Did I mention we are weird? (09-08-2010)

So the past Monday morning started off weird for all sorts of reasons. The Man didn’t have work, the oldest kidlet didn’t have school, my brother has spent the night, and I was leaving mid-morning to go workout. Without any rugrats. (It was a weird and liberating feeling.) I got breakfast provided for the family and quickly hopped into the shower while everyone else was eating. N had been in and out of the bathroom while I showered, using the facilities and then putting His contacts in. On the second trip in, He suddenly slid open the shower door and grinned at me. It was cold and I was a bit torqued that He was letting in all this freezing air.

“I have to piss” He said.

That’s all I needed to hear. I dropped to my knees at the edge of the tub, arms crossed under my breasts, pressing my breasts up and together for Him, my mouth open (but my tongue curled up to block my throat), eyes shut. This is the mandatory pissing-post pose. Yes I just made that term up, but hey, there you go.

I wasn’t irritated anymore. I wasn’t rushing through my mental planner trying to ensure I didn’t forget anything. I was just a slave in the tub waiting to be pissed on, waiting to be marked, reduced, claimed and loved.

I just was.

As His piss washed over me and I heard the slight sigh stream from His lips, I melted a little more into the floor. There is nothing like being pissed on, in my mind. It’s fraught with tangled emotions, negative connotations, distaste and shame. When He pisses on me, I feel completely free to be nothing more than His slave for that moment. To embrace the warmth of His fluid, smell His very unique scent, to receive something no other has ever earned the right to. I feel His ownership flow over my skin and the essence of Him soak in.

I can’t say I was this ecstatic about being His when He pressed His still pissy dick into my mouth and said “Suck it”. But I did, wincing as the strong bitter taste spread across my tongue, making me work harder to find that pleasure one gets from really stripping the life out of a man through his cock. And suddenly He was there, waiting, trembling, before He let out a groan and filled my mouth with a new salty taste that I hastily swallowed before it made me gag. And as I cleaned Him off with my tongue, He smiled down at me and said “Thank you, slave.”

No Monday morning could ever be bad when I start it with His piss running down my face and chest and His cum warming my belly.

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