This is a tale, written by an adult and intented for adult reading. If you're not a legal adult where you live, if this subject matter is illegal, or if you are offended by male/male sex, don't read any further.
URINATION/RAUNCH - adult M2M sex Copyright 2011 webbrohmer@hotmail.com
THE WET STORM
Bike riding; you pedal up and down, you move forward, you go places fast. When everything works together, it's beautiful, especially when a ride takes you somewhere you don't expect.
Like the time the spring storm came in. The clouds piling up to the west carried the threat of a major downpour. Weather forecasters had that part right, even down to "late in the day." I knew that, but I wanted to ride that day so I gambled that I'd beat the rain home.
I'd not gotten far when a gust of cold wind hit my back, followed by the spatter of rain. Immediately, I pulled over and dug out my raingear from my pannier: fluorescent yellow wind parka and a bandanna I do-wrapped around my head. Now ready for the storm to do its worst, I pedalled my ass full-tilt down the Burke-Gilman trail.
The full wrath of the storm hit me as I reached my turn off. Quite impatiently, I waited my turn at the four-way stop and quickly pushed off, banked a right and rode up to the Roosevelt Bridge. Now came the tricky part; the bridge ran north/south but the storm blew in from the west. That meant I'd be hitting crosswinds with nothing but a painted line between me and traffic.
Wisely, I chose not to think about that. I hunkered down and successfully crossed the bridge. At the other end a traffic light turned red. I used this chance to catch my breath, grab a swig from my water bottle and allow myself some celebratory squirts of pee into my shorts. I'd been liberally hydrating the whole trip, hoping to pee my shorts. This was as good a place as any.
The light changed and I pushed off. I'd need to make a left turn at the next block, crossing two lanes of heavy traffic. The best strategy was to ride slowly, allowing the traffic to dissipate.
By now, the rain was pouring, the cars were splashing me and I was starting to chill.
The traffic thinned. A bus approached. A quick look behind showed a large enough gap to squeeze into and my turn was coming up fast. It was now or never. I signaled.
The bus roared past and I began my turn. I was too close and caught its draft as it passed. A cold blast of wind hit me.
Down I went.
Instinctively, I tucked my arms so my wrist wouldn't break when I landed. Pavement seared my leg as I skidded across wet asphalt. Car horns blared and tires screeched in my ears.
I rolled onto my back only to find myself staring at a car bumper inches from me. My bladder let go and I peed my shorts involuntarily.
Clutching myself to stanch the flow, I sat up.
A figure knelt beside me and a handsome, dark-bearded face peered at me from beneath a hooded rain jacket. The man attached to it touched my arm-the one I was clutching myself with. "You OK?" It was a soft and gentle young man's voice. Suddenly I felt better.
I nodded, trying not to think about how close I'd come to becoming Left-Lane Lasagna. I swallowed, trying to speak but all I could do was shudder.
"Is he all right?" someone asked.
"Think so." The young cub looked at me again. "Hurt bad?"
I shook my head no and eventually squeaked out, "Road rash."
"I'll put your bike in my car; I'll get you off the street then think of something. OK?"
I nodded. "Ouch pouch. Saddle bag."
He knew what to look for. He unfastened the bag from beneath the bike seat as easily as I'd like to see him unfasten his pants.
The rain and wind pounded at me, drenching me to my bones as I fished for my first aid kit, trying to not get everything wet.
Moments later my benefactor was back, carrying a large opened sleeping bag. "Here." He placed a firm hand under my arm and helped me to my feet before draping the bag over me.
"I don't want to get your bag wet."
"It's old." He helped me sit down in the seat. "I bought it to keep in the car in case I got stuck in a snow storm. Never happened, but I want my money's worth." His voice was very soft, a rich vanilla pudding sound.
He closed the door and I clutched the bag around me. My shoulder throbbed and my left leg stung and ached but I needed warmth. I heard him rearranging items in the back of the Subaru, then the thud of the bike. "Pannier's here too."
I didn't turn around. "Thanks."
Once back in the car, he cranked the heat and started up. "There's a parking lot over here. You sure you're OK?"
"Nothing's busted." As I said that, I realized I still had my helmet on; that wasn't helping to keep me warm. I unfastened it and peeled off my wet bandanna, then my sopped gloves.
"I'll put those back here." If he noticed the color of the bandanna he said nothing.
As we drove on, he remembered to do something I'd forgotten and introduced himself as Axel. "There's a small restaurant up here. Thought you might need soup. How's your leg?"
Now I was tearing off the alcohol swab packets. "Scraped but nothing serious. Ouch!!" That last was from a swipe of the pad against my leg. It burned and stung, and I'd need several more. I'd also need to check my thigh, which meant peeling down my bike shorts, which meant this could get really interesting. My shoulder ached so I'd have to remove my jersey to remove my undershirt to inspect that, which meant I'd be totally naked in a strange man's car. If Axel wasn't gay, I'd have to get my gaydar overhauled. He'd better be, because I knew exactly what was going to happen the moment my private parts went public.
I played cautious. "I'll need to pull down my shorts to check my hip. It may be only bruised."
"Do what you need to do. I'll be pulling off here."
Suddenly I comprehended what he said. I stopped, trying to think, while the rain pounded on the car and the windows fogged. I started to protest his kindness but he stopped me with a gentle hand on my knee. "Pete, I'm paying something forward." As he smiled at me my dick stiffened. "Please?"
Displeased I was not, at this turn of events. I nodded and peeled, arching my ass up off the seat and grunting as the lycra rubbed against raw skin. As with most cyclists, I wasn't wearing underwear so my tool popped straight up.
"This is where we get off," was his only comment. I'd hoped he was talking about the road but I was amenable to anything.
Gingerly, I touched my hip. It was sore but the skin wasn't broken, so I'd only have a bruise.
"Let me look." Axel sounded amused as much as concerned. Warm fingers brushed my thigh. "Looks just fine to me. Your thigh looks pretty good too."
We both laughed and I know we both blushed. Axel pulled into a spot under a tree, passenger side next to its trunk. If I wanted privacy, I'd have it.
"Be right back."
And there I was, sitting virtually naked in a car. Shivering again, I wrapped the bag tightly around me and huddled beneath it, savoring the warmth of the car and the smell of its leather interior. I really wanted to check my sore shoulder until I realized I needed to pee-badly. I'd drained some of my bladder but not enough. Now, cold, I really needed a piss and didn't know how much longer I could wait. I'd have to get out and pee, but was not going to do it naked, nor even with my ass hanging out.
That left one alternative. Carefully, slowly, I pulled my shorts back up. Axel had conveniently given me privacy and my shorts were already soaked. Carefully, I opened the door. I could stand or kneel beside the car, my back to the restaurant, and pee myself into ecstasy-in my biking shorts. The cedar also provided some shelter from the rain. All systems go.
I decided to kneel, to keep the pee out of my shoes. As I squatted, my tool stiffened again, poking down my leg. I grunted long and slow to get flowing until hot piss ran down my leg. The only trouble is that it was ran down my leg while I wanted it to spread across my crotch and spill down my legs. I fished inside my lycras and pointed my hard hose straight up against my belly. The piss felt so good I held my hand over my hot rod and closed my eyes, feeling it pour over my hand.
After almost a minute, the piss stopped and I wanted to jack off right there. I opened my eyes and saw Axel standing over me, holding a plastic bag, grinning. He must have walked around the tree to approach from the front like this. A wet rivulet trickled down his right leg.
"Having fun?"
"Just trying to keep warm until you get your ass back here."
"My ass is back; so's my dick and soup."
I climbed back into the car and shivered again.
Axel smiled even wider as he got behind the wheel. "Soup's hot too. You'll stay warmer if you get out of those wet clothes."
That problem just solved itself and I peeled off my shorts for the last time. My upper wear was next. Gingerly, I touched my shoulder; it was sore but intact. The shoulder wasn't as lucky; it's shoulder was shredded where I hit the pavement and slid. When I saw that, I recalled the screech of Axel's car as it missed me by inches.
"You've got good brakes." My eyes filled with tears as the full effect of the trauma settled in. My hand shook as I took a spoon and foam cup from him. He dumped the clothes into the back while I chowed down on the soup. Beef barley had never tasted so good.
He started the car. "I live about a mile from here. You can get a hot shower there." He spoke softly, as if understanding my state.
"I've got street clothes in my pannier."
"It's in the back. I can't get it now."
"As long as I can change before I get there."
A wicked smile creased his beard. "No point in putting them on while you're still wet. I think you'll have to go in naked."
"You mean through a garage and up the elevator and down a hallway?" My mood shifted from shock to nervousness, even though my dick didn't seem bothered by the idea. Axel kept smiling and the wet spot in his lap tented as more pee joined it.
As it turned out, Axel was lying through his well-trimmed beard. His condo was a part of a townhouse complex with a private garage. He laughed as soon as I saw the layout. "You can still come in that way. I like seeing you naked."
Two can play this game. "You first." He flashed me his 'fuck-you' finger, but by the time I'd collected my gear, he was as naked-and hard-as I was. Somehow, I had a feeling this wasn't the first time he'd ever done this.
He was definitely worth looking at, too. He was slim and lightly muscled with nary a hair anywhere below his head; even his nine-inch nail sprung from a clean-shaven pubic region. I really dig hairy guys, but somehow, Axel made the shaved body look work. His blue eyes and thick reddish-brown beard helped. When he turned to unlock the door, the flex of his muscular ass clinched the deal.
"Keep your shorts," he said as we started up the steps. "I'll need something to piss in."
The steps ended at another door which opened to a mudroom which opened into the kitchen. We dumped most of the gear and clothing by the table. He grabbed my rod and dragged me into a half-bath.
In no time, my shorts were back on (road rash be damned) and I was sitting on the toilet.
Axel pulled on his chinos and zipped them as he stepped close. "The sooner you get it out, the more you get."
He pissed almost immediately. I ripped open his fly and aimed his stiff member right at me. Axel, gentleman he was, kindly stretched open the front of my shorts. Hot, tangy piss gurgled and puddled inside them while I aimed his hose all over my torso. The sterile urine stung my scraped leg as it washed my wound. They should do that in the ER.
He cut off the flow and rubbed his fingers through the pissy hair on my chest. "Got some for me?"
"Eventually." I swallowed his tool to its root, wanting to experience a skinned bone. He moaned and stroked my beard and hair while I slurped and tongued him. When his moans turned to short gasps I stopped. "Time for your shower."
"Oh yes, Daddy." He dropped to his knees. "Please, Daddy."
Daddy was all too pleased. I blasted him with my own load. Axel didn't sit there and take it, either. He bathed in it, rubbing it all over his body, in his hair, his beard, over his beautiful boi-smooth cock and balls. I stopped peeing before I was done and sat back, transfixed by the sight of this hot bearded cub muffin-at least a decade younger than me-wearing nothing but my own piss. I wanted to drag him to bed and lick him from head to toe. I shivered again, which escalated into a shuddering session.
"I'm sorry." He climbed to his feet. "You need a real shower." He kicked off his wet pants. "The real bathroom's upstairs." He tossed some towels into the piss puddle on the floor.
"Lead on, Boi." I licked two fingers and stuffed them up his ass. His only reaction was a moan as his sphincter relaxed. My pipe got even harder and we followed our erections upstairs.
This bathroom had a walk-in shower large enough for a rugby team, assuming they were gay and very friendly. Axel turned on the water and I reluctantly extracted my fingers from their new home. While the shower heated, Axel licked himself off my fingers, then kissed me. He was an inch or so shorter than me, still tall enough for easy mouth-to-mouth. His tongue carried the bitter tang of his ass.
He excused himself long enough to grab a condom and lube from a drawer ("Be ready at any time.") before guiding me into the shower. Carefully, I was soaked the hot water then thoroughly soaped before doing himself. "Better now?"
I sighed. "Much. All scrubbed out?"
"Yessir."
I liked the way he talked. "I don't believe you. I think you need a butt check."
He obligingly turned and straddled me as I slid onto my butt between his legs. Wanting to relish the experience, I licked my way up the back of each leg as he turned off the shower. I paused briefly at the back of his knees; several old scars criss-crossed the back and side of each one; his left leg also had a scar running down the inner side. They received a gentle kiss before I moved upward to his gold mine. I spread his cheeks and licked. He tasted as warm and masculine as flannel and a pine forest.
While I probed and licked his deep hole, Axel splashed a load of piss over my now-aching cock. Without being told, he grasped and stroked it. A whimper escaped me before I resumed my boi-butt appetizer.
"May I get a ride, Daddy?"
Damn. That boi was so polite; despite my trauma and fatigue, Axel had gotten me so hard that I'd blow my wad anywhere anyway. Such a good boi deserved a reward. "If you can take it, you got it."
Axel ripped open the condom and rolled it on me-carefully, so I wouldn't blow too soon. I reluctantly permitted him to move his luscious ass away from my mouth so he could grease us both. With barely a grunt, he slid down my lubed pole like a fireman. I sat up and wrapped my arms around him while he bounced up and down, moaning and whimpering. He slowly coaxed me until I felt the troops gather.
"On your knees; gonna hump you like a dog."
He slid forward onto his forearms and I slid back into his chute. My balls slapped his smooth ass and he squeezed back.
It didn't take long. "Take it, baby!" I roared as my cock erupted and backfired to my balls. I shuddered, this time in ecstasy as wave after wave of manjuice surged up my boi toy.
Axel chanted, "Go, Pete, go!" with each pulse of my dick. I grabbed his tool and slid his precum along his own shaft. "Milk me, Daddy, milk me," he begged, then arched his back and blasted gallons of jizz. He yowled as he splattered the wall.
I grabbed him tight and we both panted amid the smell of piss and sex and soap. When I finally pulled out we were still hard.
I slapped his ass. "Whaddya mean, 'Go, Pete'. Shouldda said, 'Do me, Daddy'."
"Guess you'll have to punish me."
I wrapped around him again, stroking his rod; damn I loved that smooth dick! "What do you think boi deserves?" I murmured.
"Punish me by having dinner and telling me I'm a shitty cook."
"Baby," I licked his ear, "you're already cooking."
Before we went downstairs, Axel had me sit on the toilet while he straddled my good leg. Gently, he rubbed liniment into my aching shoulder and thigh before bandaging my scraps. I stroked the scar on his knees. He smiled but didn't say a word.
Not surprisingly, Axel was a great cook. We sat naked at the table, over grilled halibut steaks, salad and wine. I broiled some asparagus I happened to find in his fridge. He said little, letting me talk.
My bike was still in the back of his car and it was getting late, so I accepted his offer to drive me home. Since he'd forgotten to call me 'Daddy' once, I punished him by making him drive me home naked-not that it was much of a punishment. He was hard before he even got in the car and I played with his stick shift the whole way home.
After unloading my bike, I walked to his side of the car and opened the door. As soon as I spread my legs Axel knew what was coming. He cupped his hand around my crotch and held it while I emptied a final load of my now-skanky piss into my jeans. When I finished, he lubed his cock with the smelly wetness and stroked himself off. He gasped and fell back against the car seat as beautiful threads of cum splashed across his chest. I leaned down and licked it all off.
We kissed good night, swapping his cum, his beard soft and brushy against my own.
I watched him drive away before attending to my bike, wiping it down and inspecting it for damage. The rain and wind had stopped but I wanted to take extra care of my bike. It deserves TLC because it takes me on wonderfully unexpected trips.