Getting the Brown Ball Rolling

After submitting a couple of stories from later in life, I feel better able to write about the girl who gave me my first scat experience. Her name was Ruriko.

It is still hard for me to see why it took us that long to get together. I was living in Tokyo, and one evening each week I met Ruriko after work near Azabu-juban and gave her an English lesson in a café, as thousands of other self-employed or income-supplementing teachers were also doing across the city. I had known Ruriko vaguely for years since meeting her when she had been studying abroad, and her English was fine, but she was feeling that her career had stalled and wanted to brush it up to improve her opportunities.

Ruriko was tiny: about five feet tall perhaps, but very pretty. She had hair cut relatively short then: a chin bob cut that she was letting grow a bit; she used to have a different fringe almost every week and I looked forward to guessing what style I would find on her. Her breasts were small, otherwise she would have been unstable; but she liked to wear gorgeous stretchy cardigans, and she often wore tight midi or knee-length skirts, pencil or pleated just slightly at the bottom, that showed the shape of her bum almost as clearly as if she had chosen to put nothing on at all.

After about three months -- really! - of meeting every Wednesday, and exchanging occasional souvenir gifts when one of us had been away, as autumn passed the thought finally took shape in my slow head that she might like me enough to meet up outside a damned café. Perhaps, creaked my mind, she had been dressing nicely and taking care to touch up her makeup in between clocking off work and meeting me not merely because she liked to be well-turned-out in general. I knew she didn't have a current boyfriend. So with nothing to lose -- I wasn't even charging her, as we were old friends -- I asked her one day at the end of the lesson, before we packed up.

"Ne, Ruri-chan." I was nervous; I'm not smooth at chat-up. "I see you every week here. I'd like to see you more often. Are you doing anything this weekend?"

She must have had pretty good self-control, because she managed not to show either a smile, which -- fortunately -- was her inner reaction; or the wide-eyed soulful, apologetic look of a genuine refusal, which she let me fear for a moment. She kept a poker face, and then said "Yes."

Blast.

"But not next weekend," and she leant quickly across the table and gave me a two-second smack on the lips. She was closer to the door than I was, and had stood up, shouldered her bag and left the café before I had finished blinking to check this was real. The smell of her lipstick kept me daydreaming all the way home.

This was in 1999: no smartphones. Ruriko and I had mobile phones, but personally I hardly used mine. I got a call from her on my landline, the next evening. After greetings she got down to it:

"Nigel, I'm really sorry I couldn't say yes for this weekend. I'm going out with a couple of girls from work on Saturday, we arranged it ages ago."

"It's fine, next weekend is fine. I'm on holiday next week, so I'm not busy this weekend or next."

"Oh? Aren't you going anywhere?"

"I'm going on a train trip by myself for a few days at the beginning of the week, doing some hiking in Nagano. I was going to come back on Wednesday evening for our lesson."

"Hmm." There was a few seconds' silence.

"Why, hmm?"

"Nigel...would you like to stay with me for a few nights?"

Glory, angels and trumpets. "Stay? Yes, I think I can just possibly manage that." Ruriko lived on the other side of Tokyo from me. "Ruriko, it'll be brilliant to be with you not just for an afternoon. But you, have you got holiday?"

"No. So I thought, why not cancel next week's lesson, then meet me after work on Thursday, and stay at my flat until Sunday. Can you, I mean is that OK?"

"More than OK. I can't wait."

"OK. But also, are you...quite open-minded?"

That could be code for all kinds of things, I thought. I hoped Ruriko didn't mean there would be other guys there, or that I was going to have to dress up as a superhero. "Um. I think so. Can I have a clue?"

"No. See you in a week, at the same place we usually meet. Bye."

Ruriko made a loud kissing noise down the phone -- another loud-kiss-to-end-the-conversation - and rang off. I was anxious about how open-minded I needed to be, and why. As it turned out, Ruriko pushed my limits very hard -- harder than I might have guessed I could take, if I'd been asked to write down what I liked and what I didn't. But you don't know, sometimes, until you try.

The week passed incredibly slowly, considering it was holiday and I had an interesting trip to boot. I got out of the city on the Sunday evening, hiked for three solid days (leaving Ruriko a message one evening, I'm-at-a-hot-spring-inn-wish-you-were-here), and spent Thursday morning getting home. That evening I had shaved and smartened myself up, packed some clean clothes into a holdall, and was trying hard by five-fifteen to seem nonchalant as I loitered outside our usual spot.

Ruriko appeared, looking good as usual in a white sweater with tight vertical cables and a black skirt, bang on time, squeezed one of my hands in both of hers as a kind of hello and marched purposefully into the café without a word. Bemused, I waited three or four minutes, until she emerged through the door, and I only recognised her a second before she took my arm. She had kept the sweater on, but now had on a pair of circular-lens sunglasses and a soft grey peak-cap -- very chic -- and instead of the black, cute-but-decorous office skirt, was wearing a brown leather or faux leather hip-hugging miniskirt. She grinned. "You look smart" -- that was generous, but I had a shirt rather than a T-shirt, slacks rather than jeans, and actual shoes -- "so I'm glad I decided to dress up. Walk slowly with me."

"No choice, have we, with that skirt? You look sensational, but I'd love to see you try to run."

So we walked, hand in hand mostly. After a few hundred yards we were at a station. I looked at Ruriko to see how she felt about a staircase in that miniskirt, but everyone was going down -- like us -- not up; and she obviously had no problem. Ruriko bought a couple of bottles of tea in a convenience store, then we took a train, changed once, and ended up on the Marunouchi line.

"We're going right to the end, to Honancho," said Ruriko. "It's not the closest station to my house but we can walk through a park on the way. Drink your tea," she added. "Finish it."

Until a couple of stops before the terminus, there were no seats. We stood, and Ruriko asked me about my hiking trip. "When I got your message from the hot spring," she said, "I wished I was there too. I love hot springs. I'd like to go with you someday."

"It was a good hotel," I agreed, "and not busy. I don't mind it if other men are there in the bath, I mean I don't mind being naked and all that, but I never know what to say after 'good evening'. Much nicer if it's empty."

"What about the trails?"

"Pretty empty too, most of the ones I went on."

"That's good. Privacy. You can pee if you need to and not worry about other people."

That hadn't really occurred to me as the main reason less-crowded hiking trails were nicer, but I nodded. For women it's a more important concern, perhaps.

Eventually enough people had got off and we sat down next to each other. Straight away, Ruriko whispered to me: "Do you remember what I asked you last week, on the phone?"

"Yes. I haven't really stopped thinking about it, wondering, you know."

"Neither have I...Nigel, do you really like me? Will you definitely stay with me this weekend?"

I trusted her. "Yes. So, are you going to tell me?"

"You will stay? Whatever I do?"

"Yes. I love being with you, whatever."

"All right then. Let's get some more tea when we get off."

"I'm full of tea."

Ruriko pushed her sunglasses forward and looked at me over them, eye to eye. "Not full enough."

At Honancho, I took Ruriko's hand again as we went up the escalator and stairs. "Some guys behind us are getting a good view," I remarked as we reached the top. "Ah," replied Ruriko, "you will get a better one." By now I thought I knew what Ruriko had in mind, and I was eager.

Round the corner from the exit, there was another convenience store. I had got the idea by now. "I'll get it this time then," I offered, and bought another two bottles. We drank as we walked along. When half of hers was gone, Ruriko put the bottle back in her handbag.

"I need to pee," she said.

"How far is your house?" I didn't think that was the point, but just in case.

"I don't care...the park is another five minutes. I can make it. What about you?"

"I'm...OK, but I don't really want any more tea."

Ruriko's expression mingled excitement, physical distress and some deeper vulnerability. She was now too uncomfortable, however, to worry too much about whether I was going to react how she hoped. "Finish. You have bigger, um, bladder."

Yes, but I had the added discomfort of a semi-erection. Never mind. I finished my bottle, and by the time we reached Wadabori Park I was ready to go, but Ruriko was more than ready; she was bursting. She was hunching over, and clamping her thighs as much as she could while still taking steps -- even in her tight skirt it was obvious, and very sexy. She was holding both hands over her crotch as we went. We walked into the park, and Ruriko headed straight for a copse of low trees thirty yards inside the entrance. The park was sparsely lit, and it was almost dark, but there was enough light from the streetlights by the entrance to see fairly clearly. It appeared deserted. Instead of going under the trees though, Ruriko sat on the edge of a low bench beside them, pulling her skirt right up to her waist and dropping her bag as she did so, fully exposing the white unadorned knickers she was wearing underneath, and beckoned me urgently to stand right in front of her.

"Nigel. Watch. Ohhh!"

She really had left it until the last second. She spread her legs and put one hand over her mound, and there was a loud hiss as she pissed through her panties, all over her legs and onto the grass. It lasted for more than half a minute, I swear, until the steady flow reduced to irregular spurts. As I watched, I noticed her hand was not still, and I thought she had another kind of relief coming to her, but she wasn't there yet. As the flow stopped, she looked at me, took my hand, and held it onto the wettest part of her panties, just below where her other hand was pressing and rubbing. I pressed a bit too, and a final push from Ruriko's muscles expelled a tablespoon of warmth into my palm.

It was the first time I had done this. I stood there, with a beautiful girl's hot piss cupped in my hand. I couldn't speak a word, nor look away from Ruriko, nor do anything but raise it to my mouth and drink it. Her mouth opened too, and I sank to my knees and kissed her. She can't have got more than a taste, although she licked my tongue and my lips and my chin in an effort to get as much of it into her mouth as she could.

I couldn't hold on long. She looked at me with a beatific grin on her face. "Ruriko, I have to go too. Oh, fuck!" I stood and scrabbled at my zip, managed to yank it down safely, and heaved my thickened, almost fully-hard cock out. It wasn't how I'd imagined presenting it to Ruriko, but she obviously loved it: her eyes widened and she held it and kissed the head. "Go! On me!" she pleaded, still holding it and pointing it at her chest.

I couldn't wait another second. The fantastic release of pissing came and I had the amazing sight of Ruriko enjoying the shower. She pointed my prick at her tits, and her sweater absorbed everything; she lowered it, with difficulty, and it added to the sopping mess on her crotch and thighs as well as going over the outside of her skirt; and then she lifted it up, looked at me to make sure I was watching and not closing my eyes in joy, and sprayed her own face before bringing her mouth right to where the stream was leaving my piss-hole, and swallowing the last cupful.

Or I thought she'd swallowed it all; I swear she swallowed at least four times. But she stood up and kissed me before I had my brain back -- not that I would necessarily have hesitated, but I was just far too slow. I bent down instinctively to return the kiss, and suddenly we were sharing a mouthful of warm piss - my warm piss -- and I was hugging her sopping body against mine. I could feel the wet surface of her rucked-up skirt against my cock, and her piss-soaked sweater against my chest. Without knowing exactly why, I picked her up and held her more tightly, with one arm under her bum and one around her back, and kissed her more passionately with my cock still swinging loose and her wet underwear exposed for any passer-by to see. I was in a daze; nothing made sense; my friend was my lover; fantasies were reality.

Fortunately there was no passer-by, as far as we noticed. We tidied ourselves up as best we could, picked up our bags and walked the remaining five minutes to Ruriko's block hand in hand; it was coming on chilly but I was so high just with being close to her that the discomfort of damp clothes didn't register at all. Inside, we stripped off, started the laundry, showered and changed. I loved seeing her body in the shower: she had very dark nipples on those small, beautiful tits, pointing slightly up at me; a thin thatch of jet-black curls between her legs; and two cute moles almost symmetrically placed on her shoulder blades that I kept wanting to kiss. Ruriko turned up the heating a notch afterwards, and we were comfortable in T-shirts and loose trousers. In fact she looked much better like that than in sunglasses and a chic outfit, in my opinion.

I helped wash and chop some vegetables under Ruriko's instruction, and she cooked a soup and rice with eggs and fried veg in no time. It was almost like a date: we fed each other mouthfuls, played footsie under the table and gave each other bashful looks, but we didn't talk about the park until we had nearly finished.

"Tanoshikatta? Did you enjoy that? In the park?"

"Guess."

"I know you were pretty hard, but maybe you just needed to pee. Have you ever done that before?"

"Never. And I loved it, can't wait to do it again. But, Ruriko. It's hard to know exactly, because, I mean, I'm with you! I'm still getting used to the idea that you like me. I think you could do almost anything and I'd like it."

"That's good though...that means you are open-minded, don't you see? Lots of people, they might like the other person, but then if the other person did that kind of thing, still be totally, like...nooo!"

"So I passed, then?"

Ruriko was silent for a second or two before replying, and she looked straight at me. She had a mixed-up expression again that I can't describe well; she was obviously anxious, and embarrassed, but simultaneously determined. "I don't know yet. Nigel...I haven't finished showing you what I like."

Several thoughts flashed through my head. First of all, this was going to be great because we were going to have sex somehow. But more exactly, what was Ruriko talking about? Was it scat, or some form of BDSM, or strange toys, or what?

Focus. The most important thing, probably, was to reassure her. I hadn't tried any of those things much except using vibrators and dildoes with previous girlfriends, but I was determined that I would give Ruriko the chance to show me, whatever it turned out to be. I got up, walked round behind her chair and put my arms round her, and bent down. "So show me. Ruriko, don't worry. I have a good feeling tonight. Whatever you like is going to be good."

Ruriko held her hands over my arms and bent her head. It was obviously a bit easier for her if she didn't look at me. "If you...change your mind...you're still staying here. You promised."

"Yes, I promised. I'm staying with you, Ruri-chan."

She took a breath, and carried on, still talking into her hands, while I stroked her breasts underneath. "Come on then. This time you go first though. Just," she turned her head slightly up, not enough to make eye contact, "do what I say, OK?"

I hugged her extra tightly for a moment, and said "OK."

Ruriko led me back to the bathroom. "Strip off. Don't sit, squat on the toilet."

I knew what "this time you go first" had meant. I squatted on the seat, and Ruriko sank to her knees, kissed my cock, which was rapidly stiffening, and enveloped it as completely as she could. She sucked on it slowly, bringing her lips from halfway down my shaft up to the head, and down again, dribbling all over it and moving so gently that the softness of her mouth was more like a vagina.

"Do it for me now." Ruriko brought her lips far enough off my cockhead that she could just speak, without losing contact, and then sucked right back down. Her hand slipped between my legs and under my balls, and I felt her fingertips at my arsehole. She pushed and rubbed, then quickly brought her fingers back, moistened them in her mouth and returned them, and pushed one finger inside me.

Her eyes lit up -- I knew why -- and she sucked harder. I abandoned my last inhibitions, although I was still nervous, and pushed. Ruriko's head bobbed back and forth. I looked down, and saw her stroking the long turd that was swiftly descending, not obstructing it but smearing her hand with its passage. I felt my cock hardening and swelling with excitement, and my breathing sped up though I wasn't close to coming. Ruriko knew. She knew that I was loving this, that she wasn't going to have to suppress her kinks over the next three days, and that she had found someone she could share with.

"Watch me," she said, coming up off my pole for air once more. I held her head between my hands and watched her, as she used her filthy right hand to smear shit down my cock, then to hold it steady as she licked. She licked up, down and around, sucking occasionally and showing me her tongue occasionally, until I was clean.

My heart was leaping and lurching, not through shock or nerves but because Ruriko's willingness to do that, or rather the happiness I felt in her being able to do that to me without worrying about my reaction, was so shatteringly sexy. I stepped off, stood up, raised Ruriko to her feet and kissed her without thinking. Her mouth was bitterly rich and spicy but I didn't flinch. I knew I would have the chance to taste her ultimate gift too and it would be even better; for now I just wanted to be close to her, to fuck her, to show her that I loved what she loved.

"Lean over there," Ruriko said, still in mistress-mode; "I will clean you." She kissed down my chest, biting gently as she went, then turned me, pushed me firmly against the basin so my arse stuck out, and pulled my cheeks open. I let her do it as she wanted, and it was fabulous. She licked all around my hole, poked her tongue inside, swirled it within me, gave a huge gulping swallow and did it all again, and again, with gradually less licking and more swirling and probing with her tongue every time.

When she had finished I faced her and saw that her hand was busy at her cunt: indeed it had been all the while she cleaned my shitty backside. That, and her impish face with her cute nose, big eyes and lips she kept licking brought my cock back to full stand in seconds. "Ruriko," I said, almost gasping with desire for her, "I want to fuck you. Now."

"Do it here. Nigel, I want you inside me..." Ruriko closed the toilet lid and bent over, resting her forearms on it and leaving her beautiful round arse staring up at me. I touched her pussy lips, just to make sure of her wetness, and finding she was leaking juice and to spare I pushed my thick cock into her in one heavy thump. As I built up a rhythm, Ruriko put her face onto her dirty right palm. With every thrust of my cock into her, she slid it over her face and tongue. I watched her, watched her cunt flexing around me, and enjoyed the sight of her dark-brown anal patch stretching as her perineum pulled up and down with our movement. Staring at it, I wanted to know, suddenly, what she was hiding. I wanted to see Ruriko's shit forcing its way out of her tautly opened hole and to see it fall; to see her shit in a pair of panties and to see them overflow; to taste it as it emerged from her and to lick it off her skin; to hold her shit in my hands and...