Ode To A Cali Courtesan Ch. 02

She stares at it from the side, her head coming around to admire it from below.

I actually do need to piss, but it's harder to do with her here than I thought. I've never done this before, it's never really been my fantasy and it isn't really now -- it just somehow happened to fit with this mood. It seems right!

She holds it up and out, skinning back the foreskin as much as the hard rod will allow her. It snaps back almost instantly.

It's hard to get the cock to angle down into the bowl, it keeps springing up. She has to hold it down.

The rod is half in the shaft of light from the hall, half in darkness.

As she dandles it, pushing the head towards the bowl, she adjusts her knees on the ceramic tile.

"Did you ever, "she says, almost conversationally, which is absurd and surreal but somehow delicious "just piss in front of a girlfriend when you were drinking beer late at night? And don't you know she was jealous?" She giggles. "I used to always want to see how far my boyfriends could piss. It was a turn on, you know?"

I say nothing.

"I would say 'hey, just I bet you could make a pattern in the snow, you know?' And then I would say to him 'just pull it out and try. Let's just see you try.' Always they would do it eventually. Then I could see their cocks and I could maybe get to suck them."

She swallows hard. Her eyes never leaving my cock.

This isn't making it easier to piss but I am enjoying it.

"I loved to see them piss," she whispers.

She angles the head down. Her hand falls below the head,

"So is this how it's gonna come out. This is how you get to hold it. I'm so jealous." she asked her breath coming harder now.

She loosely holds the cock in her right palm, aiming the hose first one way, and then the other.

"The piss stream," she groans. "I wish I could do this."

"Hold it right so I don't get your whole bathroom dirty, for god's sake, Megan, concentrate!"

"Yes, sir. But. Don't be cruel to me, Roger," she says, low and almost trembling, "you know what I am asking. Is this how you hold it when you piss on your new girlfriend," she repeats.

Now that's never been my thing. But, why not encourage her? I had the brutal confidence of knowing this was my fantasy, bought and paid for.

So, I nod. I have never done any water sports, but today, Megan is on a roll -- let's see where she goes.

"This is how I piss, yes," I say.

"Mmm. And you order her to clean you up, don't you?"

"I do."

Again, I'm lying totally, but why not? This isn't a scholastic test.

I see the outlines here of my rasping cock, the shadow on the bathroom wall. Her body profiled next to it.

Her eyes stay on it, and she looks almost entranced.

I am amazed.

Megan really has, like all great marketers, saved the best savory and champagne for the First Class ticket holder.

She softly holds it as if it is precious.

"This is how you do it?"

"Yes, more or less, although you're essentially playing with it, too -- a no no in a public bathroom."

"It wouldn't be if I was there with you." She giggles. "I could be your piss attendant."

"Good."

"Yes. You order your girlfriend to go into the bathroom so you can fuck her, don't you?"

"Yes."

That's not a lie. I have done that.

"When did you do it last?"

"At a place called Bisou."

"What do you do to her?"

Her hand softly jacks the cock.

At this rate, it'll never be soft enough to piss. But I like this.

"She comes to the restaurant without panties -- they come off in the car before and I lock them in the glove compartment.

I'd never done this exact thing, but I know what Megan wants to hear. And it bears enough resemblance to the truth that it can turn me on, too.

"Then what?"

"I take her out back, actually, there's a place behind the dumpster that nobody goes very often, which is rare for Santa Barbara."

"Do you fuck her?"

"Sometimes."

"How?"

"Usually from behind, kicking her legs apart, spread eagling her."

"You ass fuck her." Megan moans as she says this, her eyes darting to my cock, then to my ass, then back again.

She has removed her left arm from around my hips and her hand is now softly nuzzling at my crack, one finger just lightly flickering over my asshole.

"You take this magnificent hard cock and you kick her legs apart and you fuck her in the ass bareback," she murmurs.

"I do, yes. Look, I've got to piss, honey. Stop turning me on," I laugh.

She giggles, too.

"Well I want you to, I wondered why you haven't."

"Because you're making me hard as nails."

"And I can't stop." she wails. "You'll have to stop me. Don't you know anything at ALL, MASTER?!"

I knock her hand away.

Now she is simply sitting on her hanches, next to the bowl, her eyes level with my cock. She makes a relieved sound.

I take the cock in my hand. God, it's hard as steel!

"You and I - if you take me out I will suck your cock in a restaurant bathroom."

She just can't stop herself.

I grunt.

"And...I want to do more. I want to take the head in after you piss, and clean it."

"Hush."

"And - I want to do more here. Oh, let me do that."

She reaches for the cock, I pull it away. I will never be able to piss if she keeps touching it.

"Please piss, Master." she murmurs.

I slap her rather hard. She grunts, nods, and groans.

"I'll shut up." she whispers.

"Good."

With a grunt and my eyes closing, I arch my back and close my eyes.

Trying to relax.

It's not hard. I really do need to pee.

I decide I'll just try to piss through the hard cock.

And it works, after a little plumbing flush out that I can feel.

Rather quickly, I begin to let the piss out.

I open my eyes to keep aim right.

It arcs out of the long hard cock and into the bowl with a thunderous splash.

She cries out, puts her palm into the nearly clear liquid, letting it splash warmly on her hand.

After a few moments, I stop pissing. I'm getting the hang of this.

And something tells me I should stop.

It is the right move.

As soon as the golden cock's head stops pissing, her own

blonde head moves forward towards it as if drawn to a drug.

"Look,' she murmurs." Look at your pissing cock." Her voice rises to a worshipful wail, but now abruptly lowers to a whisper. "It's like watching a race horse piss."

I clear my throat, feeling wobbly on my legs.

"The head," she cries.

She grips the pissing cock like a baseball bat, and moans.

Finally the piss stops.

Just watching the nearly clear liquid drop trembling at the end of the man meat plum head. Suddenly more piss streams out.

And I'm almost done pissing, I thought, but no.

"I can feel the piss moving through it," she groans. "Oh, god! IT feels so strong. Feel this hard thick cock!"

The piss begins to lessen again.

"I want to do more."

She half stands up and turns out the tiny night light by the toilet. I don't understand why at first, but soon I do - now only the glow from the hallway comes in, illuminating a thick shaft of light that hits the bowl itself.

Theater.

The cock is in the shaft of light from the hallway, her hands darkening it with shadow. The slit lip she puts fingers on either side of, as the light moves across it, the saliva sparkling on the bell head, the clear braid of piss arcing down still.

She gets back down on her knees next to me, close enough to touch the bowl, but again, simply on her knees, upright, and her face about a foot from my upright cock, which she must still force downwards, the wand springing strongly, a metal rod hinging at my pubic bone, which she lovingly, caressingly now holds in her right hand, pointing down, her left hand stroking it softly. Some of the piss has gotten onto the floor but she doesn't seem to notice or care at all.

I piss some more, less strongly.

The cock, which has been pissing steadily, now finally starts to slow it's stream, the bowl stream echoing.

She now leans her head against my legs, and plants a big kiss on my ass cheek, her long blonde hair falling nearly to below my knees, her whole body just stewing against mine, the cock looming above her.

I see a shadow of her head and the cock on the wall. She tilts her head up.

"You can go ahead," she says softly. "Finish. Don't you have to squeeze it?" She pauses. "And then you have to shake it."

Her head is just a few inches from the cock. She eyes it hungrily.

I nod and reach down and push her hand aside and then start shaking the cock to get rid of the last bursts of piss.

She licks her lips. She jacks back the rock hard head. I was not feeling eros, not yet, but now I am overwhelmed by a wave of lust for this incredible woman's appetite. Ecstasy fueled or not, I'm astonished and grateful.

Her breath coming harder now.

I stretch the cock out. Shaking the head of the last drops.

"I want to clean you up. I love your cock."

"Why?" I ask her, just to hear it.

"It puts me on my knees."

"Why?"

"Because I love your penis. It's my job."

She looks up at me dreamily.

"Because - I want to come with you to the bathroom when you take me to the movies. First you will push me into a stall, and then unzip your trousers. I love the sound of that, sir. I know what's coming."

"Cock." I say gently.

"Yes, COCK!" she cries. "Your beautiful cock will be coming out when that happens."

I look down and see her wide-eyed adoring eyes staring at the dripping cock.

What happens next I will remember forever and always. A new triptych in the memory of Megan's beautiful whoredom.

She reaches forward quickly and takes it in her mouth, wincing a little, her eyes closing but then reopening quickly, eyes shining.

On E!

I have to smile.

As her mouth comes forward, she whispers "because all the time when I am seeing you, I know that there is a beautiful cock behind that zipper."

She closes her mouth around the still dripping cock.

She brushes the head. Makes a keening sound.

I pull it out for a moment, just to tease her.

She doesn't protest, she's too involved, her eyes are pained.

I lift the cock, the head wet with piss up a few inches, presenting it to her on my open palm.

She leans forward.

I keep her head back with my palm, but her mouth now opens, spilling drool out as she almost blankly thrusts back and forth, lost in a haze of arousal, her tongue lewdly trying to lick at the dripping cock head.

I release my palm.

Wordlessly, silently, she re-mouths the wet cock.

She sucks all the piss out of the cock, nursing at it for at least a minute.

I simply stand there and feel the cleaning suck.

"If you have anymore master please let me have it."

I relax, but there is nothing more.

Amazing. Her goose neck hoovering of the piss cock can't coax anything else out.

Eventually she drops the head, and now goes to work on my balls and thighs.

I want to get into cum-rod power now, again, and I want her mouth on my penis to start to bring me to cum.

I pull my foreskin back, the head popping forward, the pink head sheened with a last bit of unexpected piss.

I just handle it for her, display it and model it.

"Oh, Captain, my captain!" she moans.

I hold it in my right hand, dandling the cock, pulling the foreskin back from the head.

She doesn't move much now, her voice is just reverent, rapt, in sub space completely.

"Yes. Please. Push back the verhaut, the foreskin, Master. Oh, please, show me what you have, it's so magnificent. Oh, god."

She moans and dips her head down and takes the bobbing cock head into her mouth.

She puts the piss-wet cockhead in her mouth.

And sucks.

And moans.

Her eyes squeeze tight.. But she doesn't move, in fact, after a moment, her tongue comes out and begins licking the cock, cleaning all the piss off of it. Then she goes back to it avidly, licking at the bag, cleaning up any dribble.

"That's right, sweetheart. Clean it up. Take the piss. There's more, too."

I pull the head away.

"I do want more," she says. She is wincing at the taste, smacking her lips, struggling not to wretch -- she's never looked more beautiful.

"In the morning I want to help you piss," she groans. "When you get out of bed, pull my hair and take me to the bathroom and let me suck on Master to help him pee."

I doubt she'd really want to do that, but again, the fantasy fuels the present.

"Just look at the cock for a moment," I order. "Don't touch it. It's still sensitive."

She stares at the cock in the shaft of light form the hall, and the broad band of foreskin now has a slight sheen to it. t's plumping up again, and the biscuit colored head is pinkening now slightly.

"Oaah.." she groans.

"And you can put me in the shower and piss on me, Master."

"Yes." That seems doable. DO I like that?

I decide I do. It's not the number one erotic pull on my list, but I would enjoy doing it.

I'm sure it'll cost me a mint! LOL.

Then she sits back on her haunches, and once again picks up the cock head and angles it down. She's clumsy but I think she's got the right angle.

I'm stoned and half asleep with dopamine.

She puts her mouth back on it.

I manage to piss a little more. Just to give her the drink she says she craves. Testing the performance just a little.

Can she hold?

She winces a little -- no doubt at the hideous taste -- but now she keeps it in her mouth. And now she swallows.

She takes the head of my dripping cock into her mouth. Her eyes wince, the taste is clearly bitter and unpleasant to her, but only for a second ,then her eyes relax and she gets happy and she begins to slurp on it. It's such a rapid change I can't help but think she's amazing.

I don't have much pee left, and it would be unchivalrous to take advantage of this.

I'm done.

I pull her off my dick, which comes away with a hard pop.

For a long minute she sucks on it, and then began to clean the balls behind it. My legs are a little unsteady from all this pleasure, and I step back slightly, putting my hand up on the wall, my loose but hard cock swinging forward over the bowl, and she starts licking it again.

I turn around and without a word present my ass to her, spreading apart my cheeks and her tongue plunges instantly right against the ring of my asshole, no hesitation, just long wet wormy strokes.

I put my foot up on the toilet bowl rim, so she can get at my ass more easily.

Now she takes her tongue and flatly plates along the nudges it methodically down each inch.

"You love ass too, don't you, whore?" I murmur. "

"I do."

She smacks her lips.

She reaches forward and jacks my cock from underneath even as she speaks right into my ass checks, her breath warm.

"You'd pulled your cock out the second time we were together and I wanted to suck it and lick your ass."

I nod.

"it comes out in your hand, you had unzipped, "she whispers, "and it was... just so perfect, and it hung down, the head just peeking out of the foreskin. And that day....oh, master, that day it was back there and you had been hot that day, your cock was sweaty, it smelled like you...i love the smell and taste of your sweaty cock, oh, you took it out, pulling it right out and it just hung down out of your fist...that magnificent head...."

Her breaths come in yanked pants now...I see her hand jacking the cock from behind, as I feel her lips on the back of my balls.

"What did I tell you to do?"

"Take off my underwear, master and give it to you."

"And what did I do with it?"

She drops her head right into my thighs, just burying her face and rolling it back and forth, her tongue licking the muscles of my upper thigh, ,her hair meshing and netting wetly against my crotch.

She pokes her tongue through her hair and nip sucks at my cock.

"I was your dick slave, Master."

I took a deep, enjoying breath, and reach back to slapp her cheek, and she bends into the slap with a sigh.

"Yes, master, your dick slave, yes, your cock slave whore, your come drinking bitch, oh, please master."

"And I put your panties around your neck."

"And then you said it. You asked."

"I asked you 'please, master can I lick your ass?"

"And I turned around and leaned against the wall."

"ad I pulled down your underwear. I didn't know you and I am always worried with someone new that I won't like the taste."

She groans.

"But I did. That's why i asked to do it. To taste you. And your ass, too. It tasted so good. So salty but so good."

My cock begins to cum rod throb now, the head in pre-pulse -- the orgasm coming soon, and she is on it instantly on it, cooing.

"Next," I yanked her heavy silover and brass collar, the links clicking and clacking.

"Then you head fucked me," she cries instantly.

I gave a groan.

"Please sit down here and let me service you," she moans.

She puts the seat down with a ceramic clatter in the narrow space.

I don't have to be asked twice for this.

It really is time to come. What else is left to do?

Next time I'm sure she'll think of something!

I turn around, my dick slapping her in the face, and sit down on the toilet and sprawl my legs out.

The lid is cold and hard on my ass.

She follows the slapping cock closely, tumbling to her knees and keeping her mouth at the cockhead even as she gets back down on all fours, and crawls between my legs on that cheap ceramic bathroom floor.

"This is my place," she groans. "Your toilet whore. I'm going to clean your cock now. Get all the piss off."

She goes to it with a will.

"Oh, this taste," she groans. "the taste of this cock...I think, 'no MEgan you will get tired of it, but no I don't...'"

As she licks, her eyes slant against my legs, her mouth bruised and wet and vacuuming, and now she murmurs into the hard thickening cock skin around the bottom of the shaft, where lithe skin accordions from pipe into the scrotum. My huge scrotal sac is spread across my right thigh, the balls draping in two directions, but knitting tightly now, and she will occasionally bend her head down to sniff at it for a long moment.

And now, freed of its constraints and also of the piss, my cock begins to vibrate -- my legs sprawl out onto the tile, I am nearly laying on the toilet now, just getting sucked by this wet-mouthed, piss-drinking whore.

The dick begins to lift up off my balls and to become a living cum rod, vibrating to orgasm. Swiftly now...

The tube of flesh sticking nearly straight up.

Metal hard.

All because of an artisan of love.

And here, with the light from the hallway illuminating her blonde body, as she has spread over me in utter obeisance and worship as I sit her, a king, on her bare toilet in this bare bathroom without even a painting or photo on its bare walls, I pull her hair back like a leash and know that there can be no better time or place to finish this astonishing suck off, the best of my life, yes it is true, the very best.

My cock has grown hard, then soft, then hard, then soft, then hard, over and over. She has worshiped my asshole in a way no whore or girlfriend or mistress has ever done before -- and will anyone ever again?

In the long, cheap, narrow mirror behind the bathroom door I see her bowed over me, legs folded, shoulders and hair shaking, the dimples of her ass heaving as her head bobs up and down on my cock, mouth in a tight suction that I would have protested an hour ago, but now, my cock so benighted by the lavish ravishing she has given it that he feels the pressure as his own.

My left hand holds her hair in a yanked up pony tail, just using her head as my suck device.

"Next time I want you in pigtails, you cocking sucking bitch, so I can head fuck you better," I murmur.

She gasps "Oh, I am just your cock milker, I am milking you, that is my purpose, only."

"You perfect clock slut," I sigh, slamming her head into my proffered pubes here above the toilet seat, over and over, her tits grazing my knees, breasts smashed flat against my thighs as she grunts in grateful servitude, every inch of her simply a headfuck doll for me now, a sucking head that has taken in everything the cock could give her and ever would give her. The leashes clinking against the ceramic toilet edge over and over.