No Words

Now you probably shouldn't arrange anything with an anonymous dude over the internet but, boy, is it hot! The illicit, explicit communication that sees you expose yourself, not physically, but sexually and emotionally in a way that seems to be extraordinarily harder in person. It's so erotic. And then there's the anticipation of carrying out your arrangement. Countless cum has been spilled just thinking about what you are going or want to do.

Anyway, I'd met a guy on the internet who almost lived in the same city as me (I live in Coventry, England and he lived in a village, technically, on the outskirts) and we'd made this arrangement.

It had certainly been awesome putting it together but, as I got dressed and prepared to catch the bus, I was feeling extremely nervous. I was wearing a tennis outfit essentially: close fitting white t-shirt, white shorts, white socks and white trainers. We had made sure it was a lovely hot summer day.

The first 'rule' of our scheme was that I wasn't to adjust my cock in any way, i.e., if I got hard there would be no tucking it into my waistband or otherwise disguising my bulge. And wouldn't you know, I had been hard for ages. So it was with what felt like a massive tenting in my shorts (though it was probably hardly noticeable by anyone else!) that I left the house and strode across a few streets to a bus stop where I hoped no-one would recognize me.

Part of the fun is the anonymity. Knowing that you do disgusting or unusual things but your neighbours and friends think you are entirely respectable and clean living. Phew!

I approached the bus stop and, yup, there was a queue. That was good and bad. Bad, because I felt incredibly exposed and nervous. Good because I might be able to get on the bus without the driver seeing my erection and telling me to clear off. That said, the nervousness started to have an effect and my shorts subsided.

The bus arrived and while the journey was uneventful, my cock had had time to think and was pretty stiff as the bus made its way to the village and my destination. Still, I didn't feel so exposed as I alighted with lumpy shorts.

I pulled the scrap of paper out of my pocket (I only had the paper, my front door key and the bus fare home in there) and checked the address and little map. It sure was quiet round here. I followed the directions and soon arrived at the close and made my way to number seven, at the end of a little cul-de-sac. It was quite open, the house was clearly visible from all the others.

I rang the bell and knelt on the mat. I took the keys and map and money out of my pocket and placed them an arm's length away. I knelt up straight and even though it had probably only been about five seconds since the first time, rang the bell again.

Shortly, the door opened and there was, I presume, my correspondent. He didn't say a word, pulled out his swollen but not properly stiff penis and pointed it at me. He exhaled deeply but gently.

A second or two passed. Then it came.

His first stream splashed between my knees but he quickly adjusted. The second full stream hit the side of my chin and splashed up into my ear which made me shudder involuntarily. He giggled and starting working on drenching every inch of me with his warm, golden pee. He did one sleeve of my t-shirt, moved across my chest and soaked the other sleeve.

I loved the cloth becoming saturated and feeling of it clenching onto me. I got outrageously erect at the feeling of the piss running down my chest and tummy inside my shirt.

He moved his hosing down my shirt and into my groin. My shorts just filled with piss and it felt like I was completely naked on this stranger's doorstep. My clothing felt skin-tight with only a dick-shaped protrusion where my shorts used to be.

My shorts drenched, he quickly splashed my legs and that was the end of that stream.

He wasn't quite finished though and stepped forward slightly. My face was almost touching his dripping dick. I bowed my head. He relaxed once more and let another stream go, this time over my hair.

It ran down my face, dripped off my nose, stung my eyes and, wonderfully, ran my back. I could feel the pee soaking inch-by-inch into the back of my shirt, grasping my erotically charged skin bit-by-bit as it may its way down. Bizarrely, the feeling was such that as it ran down my back I swear I could feel it on my throbbing cock.

The stream stopped again. I heard the door close gently. I stayed kneeling for a few seconds, letting the wanton eroticism of the moment envelope me. I could feel urine seeping down my clothing, into cracks and crevasses. And, damn, was I hard!

I stood up and felt a wave of pleasure as my clothing settled into a new place; gravity caressed me through my unequivocally piss-soaked outfit. I really felt I was danger of ejaculating spontaneously as drips escaped my shorts and traveled slowly down my legs, twanging every hair. I swear it wouldn't have been more stimulating if the sexiest, most beautiful, closest friend in the world had been running their fingers or tongue up and down my leg.

Time to go home. This time no amount of nervousness could dampen (!) my dick. It wouldn't have been any more obvious if I had been naked or a t-shirt that had a giant arrow on it and the words 'Look everyone, a hard cock.'

There wasn't anyone at the bus stop and so I was wondering what was going to happen when I boarded. The bus pulled up but the driver looked away as he opened the doors and by the time he looked back I had already boarded, paid and stated my destination.

I went and sat on the back seat which was empty. I must admit, I tucked myself in the corner and looked out the window. I suppose it was a bit cowardly and, perhaps, to be more charitable, I avoided being offensively brazen. No need to upset people. Not ever.

I arrived at my stop and got off, erection still amazingly intact. I strode back home. Even though I was delighted at having being hard for the entire journey (about half-an-hour) and, in fact, the majority of the day so far, I knew I'd have to get rid of it soon.

He should be here in about an hour. Time for a luxurious wank and, of course, to start drinking.

Comments welcome or speak dirty to me through the link below.