Gay piss drinking at club

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements. Heavy smoke is quickly filling my car, and I can't take my eyes off of his crotch. Almost like he rewired my brain.

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Remembering, yes, but also fantasizing: drinking Mason's piss in my shower, in a movie theatre, at a club, during a concert, on road trips, when he comes home drinking at night, when he doesn't want to get out of bed, when he doesn't want leave the poolside, in a tent, whenever, whenever, whenever. Oh, fuck.

I would like to do more than that, I want to tell him. He passes me the joint and I take a long draw on it, pulling in air, holding, exhaling. It's clear where his cock lay as it thickens. My heart thunders. I reach for his zipper, but Mason doesn't wait. He shifts his hips off of the seat and slides his shorts and underwear down, his half-plump cock smacking against his thigh as he frees it.

His balls hang club on my car seat. One hand slides up his mid-section, lifting his shirt to show his hairy belly. I can't help but groan. I would be embarrassed about how badly I want this, but I want this man to know everything about me. I want him to know that I would do every single one of those things I've fantasized about.

He moves his hand out of the way, his cock lolling slowly to the side. I bury my nose in his pubes. He hasn't showered today. I'm okay with that. Gay want to live here. He squirms in his seat. He really needs to go. I piss my tongue down the length of his cock. It pulses, flexing against my lips. I want to take my time. I want this to last forever.

I also want him to piss in my mouth, so I slip the head of his dick between my lips.