The next day was Friday. I was a little tired all day, but after work I took the time to eat some supper before I changed and dutifully went out in search of piss. Drinking all that piss on an empty stomach had been a little rough the previous night. Nevertheless, I found myself getting excited again as I drove to this night’s chosen venue, the twenty-four-hour adult cinema downtown.

I didn’t like that I had to pay for parking and then admission was another $12. It wasn’t the classiest looking place and the movie on the “big” screen didn’t impress me either. But I wasn’t there for that.

I found the men’s room at the end of a short dingy hallway and entered it to find it somewhat brighter than the hallway, lit by the half of the ceiling fixtures that worked. With one sink, one wall-mounted urinal, and one toilet stall, it wasn’t very big.

I leaned against the wall in the corner where the stall partition met the wall and waited, breathing the mildly arousing aroma of stale urine that pervaded the room.

It wasn’t long before a young man in jeans and a hoodie entered, my first prospect. A skinny kid about five-nine, looking barely out of his teens, he seemed taken aback to find me lurking there.

“Want to piss in my mouth?” I offered by way of greeting.

“Uh ... no, man,” he replied nervously, “not my scene.” He changed direction, entered the stall and peed there, not realizing that I could see in through the gap between the partition and the wall. I couldn’t see him, but I did watch the elegant arc of his piss where it splashed into the toilet.

What a waste of good piss, I thought.

He flushed the toilet and left without a word or glance. But a couple of minutes later he returned with another guy, equally young but much larger, several inches taller and clearly overweight.

“See, he’s still here,” the smaller guy said.

“You wanna drink my piss?” the fat guy asked.

“Yes, please,” I responded in what I hoped was a friendly tone.

The two guys looked at each other. “Cool,” said the big guy while his buddy giggled nervously.

I got down on my knees and opened my mouth. Both guys seemed paralyzed for a moment. “Go ahead, dude, piss in my mouth,” I said, trying not to sound too eager. I didn’t want to display the excitement I felt.

The big guy stepped closer to me while he unzipped his fly. I saw a flash of blond pubic hair nesting the round head of what appeared to be a very small penis. But he pulled on it and it stretched a little, but barely enough to reach outside his pants. He held it and aimed it at my mouth for what felt like a very long time before, finally, just as I was about to reach my tongue out for an encouraging lick, he started to go.

His piss started erratically, coming out sort of sideways at first, hitting my right cheek, before it strengthened and hit its target. My tongue felt the force and the warmth of his stream first, and then the flavor of his sour piss filled my mouth as I let his urine collect in a fragrant pool before swallowing my first mouthful.

It was delicious! The kid’s dick might be small, but the taste and texture of his piss was grand. He kept pissing and I kept swallowing at a faster pace while still letting my mouth fill up before swallowing.

When the stream finally petered out, a few drops landed on my tee-shirt, but I didn’t mind. “Mmmm,” I hummed involuntarily as I smacked my lips gratefully. I made eye contact with the lad as he was zipping up.

“Thank you,” I said, “That was delicious!”

The skinny one giggled again. My feeder looked pleased but perplexed. “You really like it, don’t you?” he wondered aloud.

Just then, the door opened and an older guy came in and abruptly stopped, taking in the tableau. “Oh-ho!” he said in pleasant surprise, “What have we here?”

I said “older guy” but he was middle-aged really, probably younger than me. With me being on my knees, I’m sure he thought I’d been sucking cock.

But the little guy suddenly piped up. “What we have here is a piss-drinking queer,” he giggled.

The new guy looked from one to the other and back at me.

“Yeah,” Big Guy confirmed. “He swallowed all my piss!” He still had an air of incredulity about him.

“That so?” said the new guy. “Well I just came in here to use the urinal.” He leered at me. “Is that what you are? Are you a urinal?”

His words and his demeanor were like an aphrodisiac to me and brought out all my new-found submissive instincts. “Yes, sir,” I said, trying to sound humble despite my heightened excitement. “Please use me as your urinal, sir.”

I liked this guy’s attitude from the start. He stepped up, loomed over me and whipped out a nice, loose cock that, flaccid as it was, looked like a six-inch flesh-colored hose.

“Open up,” he said authoritatively. Placing his cock at my lips, he immediately put its head right in my mouth.

I happily sealed my lips around his shaft. And just in time, for his piss started flowing right away. It was more bitter and saltier than my last customer’s, but it still had that sour tang and the tinge of scorn I was learning to love.

I swallowed loudly for the benefit of my audience, which had increased as two more guys entered and stood watching. “Mmmm.” I made yummy noises between swallows, hoping to convey both my pleasure and gratitude.

“Look at that!” I heard someone say. “What a pig!” spoke another voice.

More people were coming into this small bathroom; it was getting crowded. By the time my present feeder had finished, there were three or four guys with their cocks out waiting for their turns to piss in my mouth.

“I’m next,” someone said, and a tall, bald guy in denim shoved his thick dick in my mouth and let go a torrent of hot piss.

“Glug, glug, glug...” I swallowed noisily while some of the yellow fluid escaped the corners of my mouth and dribbled down my chin. I was deliriously happy.

I looked around. There were eight or ten guys in the room watching, some with their cocks out, and most of those were stroking their cocks as they watched.

By the time I was taking my fourth drink, I saw that some of the guys were stroking each other’s cocks and one guy was on his knees sucking off the bald guy who had just been using me.

My fourth guy was deliberately sloppy, peeing on my face as well as in my mouth, which only added to the titillating degradation I was feeling. By then I was also peeing in my pants and enjoying the warmth enveloping my balls and my stiff cock.

The guys watching this display of depravity seemed to enjoy seeing me getting pissed on. “Oh yeah! Piss on him!” I heard one of them say.

By the time a fifth guy—a weathered, older guy at least my age—had his cock in my mouth, two guys had started pissing on me.

One was pissing on my head, soaking my hair, and causing trickles of his warm, fragrant brew to flow down my back. The other was hosing me down in front, from my face to my chest, until the guy feeding me told him to be more careful—he was getting splashed—so then he concentrated on just my chest.

I was really enjoying sucking on the old guy’s cock. Not too big, but not small either, it felt really good in my mouth. His stream was fairly slow, so I had time to stroke and squeeze with my tongue while savoring the sour bitterness of his piss as I swallowed it down.

At the same time, the feeling of hot piss raining down all over me made me feel completely euphoric, as if the more disgusting it seemed, the more aroused I became. I was being defiled and abused. And I loved it!

My pee-soaked clothes perfumed the car on my drive home.

As I drove, I reflected on the number and variety of cocks I had experienced, recognizing for the first time that I found them fascinating. I liked them. I liked the look of them. Not to mention how great it felt to have one in my mouth. It wasn’t just about piss any more.