Pee 'n Me

Pee 'n Me

It was the mid-seventies. I can't remember the name of the movie. All I know is that I was in college, probably twenty-one or twenty-two. And, as was usually the case at that time, I was damned horny. I drove to downtown San Francisco, to Market Street, where I knew there were porn theaters. Somehow I parked my car (parking then and now is nearly impossible in SF) and walked a few blocks to the first theater I came across. Don't ask me the name of the theater, I have no idea. It might have been a Pussycat Theater, I just don't remember. What I do remember is that there was a matronly looking woman behind the ticket counter, and admission was five dollars. That wouldn't seem like a lot today, but in 1974 or '75 it was a bit pricey. I paid my five, pushed on the turnstile and I went in.

It was dark, dirty, and the chairs looked liked they were last upholstered during the Spanish-American War. I was careful not to sit near anyone...I wasn't looking for some kind of hook-up anyway. Whatever movie was being shown had just finished (they showed these things non-stop) and a trailer for a different film came on. I do remember that this film was showing at the Kearny Street Theater, which I would soon learn showed the hardest and most violent stuff in town. I sat there stunned as I saw women wearing demonic looking masks giving blowjobs, a couple having sex while the woman was on her period (blood was all over the place), a woman with a small boa constrictor, and finally the scene that changed my life: a young woman on her back, legs spread, and gushing forth an arc of piss towards the camera. Never had I seen such "filth," as I thought at the time. I was expecting to see the equivalent of Deep Throat or Behind the Green Door. I got up and left the theater right after the trailer ended, not even staying to see the feature film. I was in there for maybe 20 minutes. I was pretty shaken.

You know when an image gets indelibly etched in your mind? That scene of the pissing girl stayed with me and I couldn't get rid of it. Suddenly, I realized I had to find out more about female urination. I was so naive at the time that I didn't even know females had an opening for pee like men do. I thought it just came from their vaginas somehow.

I told my girlfriend at the time about the pee scene. We were pretty much on the outs by then. She said there had been a time when she would have gladly peed for me, but not now. Well, fuck her. I had to see more movies that showed golden showers. Finding them, though, wasn't easy, even in the 70's. I suppose it was a matter of knowing where to look. At the time, I had no idea. I even went to see "Deep Inside Annie Sprinkle," but the golden shower scene was cut. Same with "Satisfiers of Alpha Blue." Annie Sprinkle was called "the golden girl of porn," but I couldn't find any movies with her giving golden showers. It wasn't until internet porn came out that I got to see Annie in all her gushing glory. Lord knows I love Annie Sprinkle.

Some years went by. I'd buy the occasional porn mag at the local liquor store. Then in the early 80's, video recorders and VHS came out. It was a cornucopia of porn, and I became a mass consumer of 80's smut. But even then, golden showers were avoided. Something to do with the Reagan administration and Ed Meese, that bluenose. He had seen "Taming of Rebecca," which did have a couple of pee scenes, and made sure porn was limited to just your basic sucking and fucking. He probably would have banned that if he could have, but in any case the pressure was on the producers of porn to stay within legal limits or risk arrest. I did see trailers for porn on a tape I rented, and it included "Barbara Broadcast" and a hint of C.J. Laing's pissing into a bowl. But that was it.

The eighties and early nineties were fairly conservative when it came to porn. Anything that hinted at serious BDSM was often censored, and probably the Bruce Seven films of that era (such as "Taking It to the Limit," "Buttslammers' and the like) pushed the envelope about as far as possible. I had heard that European, and especially German films were much harder, and featured golden showers and piss play, but those certainly were not on the shelves of the suburban family-owned video store I frequented.

Knowing now that the Kearny Street Theater was where the trailer that had so shocked me came from, I decided to go there. Good Lord, it was almost impossible to park. The theater is off Broadway a bit, with the San Francisco skyscrapers not far away. It's a rough area as well. I parked far away and had to walk flight after flight of outdoor, concrete stairs to get there. When I gingerly went in, I saw that there was a movie theater of sorts which consisted of a black wall with a few seats behind it. I heard the sounds of the movie. A woman was clearly being whipped or tortured in some way, as I heard screams of pain. I quickly decided not to go in there. But then there were many walls filled with VHS tapes. I searched and searched, but I couldn't find a single pee video. Finally, I went to the counter, where an attractive young woman was sitting. She had on a short black leather skirt with knee-high boots, and looked like she's been around the block a few times. She would have to had been to work there. Gathering my courage, I asked if they carried any watersports films.

"No, but we used to."

Damn that censorship crap anyway! I drove all the way to SF only to find out even the roughest theater in town couldn't sell piss videos anymore.

Then...a miracle. I had been buying copies of Nugget magazine, because they at least had articles on urolagnia. Then one day I went to the liquor store which had a raft of porno mags. The proprietors had tacked up a sign that said, "this is NOT a reading library, if you pick it up, you buy it." Scanning the shelves for Nugget, I found the Holy Grail, or at least the holy urinal. The cover of this issue of Nugget promised pictorials of women pissing! I couldn't believe it, but I grabbed a copy, paid, got out to car and started thumbing through pages. Yes! There were several full color pages of different women, with hot, nasty piss shooting out of their peeholes. I got that thing home, went into the bathroom, put the magazine on the counter, and furiously jacked off. In particular, there were pictures of a pretty blonde named Diana, outside, leaning against a tree with her dress pulled up to her waist and shooting a geyser of piss several feet. I spurted wave after wave of cum into the waiting tissue until I was just spent. I finally had reached the promised land. What was more, there was an ad that said you could buy a tape featuring Diana, called "Pee Is For Pleasure." I sent for that thing and popped it in the VCR as soon as it arrived. It was a revelation. Diana was showed pissing close-up, so you could actually see where the pee was coming from. Then there were other scenes that were obviously shot at the same time as the pictorial, because she was wearing the same dress and was in the same location. But now, I could see that gusher of piss flowing out of her pussy until she ran dry. This was it. I had found gold indeed, and although main stream porn flicks of the time didn't show pissing, at least I had something to indulge my fetish. Sometimes, out of sheer desperation, I would piss myself in the bathtub and pretend Diana or some other sexy girl was pissing on me. Hey, don't judge, I bet a lot of you have done it also!

Not shortly thereafter, the dam broke, so to speak, and suddenly films started coming out like the 'All Pissed Off" series. "Nugget" included a pee pictorial in every issue. Hustler's "Taboo" magazine featured urolagnia in almost every copy. Then, my little family-owned video store started to carry German extreme porn. The titles were in German, but it wasn't difficult to figure out what they were about. "Ficken," "pissen," "kaviar." The "kaviar" I knew probably meant scat, which I wasn't wanting to see. But "ficken" and especially "pissen," yes please! So, I started renting these and found out German porn was far beyond anything found above-board in America. Fisting, both vaginal and anal, enemas, women licking men's asses, and piss...so much piss! They pissed on each other, they pissed in champagne glasses and drank it, they had piss orgies...well, and there was scat also, which pretty much turned my stomach a bit. But the mere fact that these videos could now be had in my little old home town was incredulous to me. A couple of months later, I returned to the Kearny Street Theater and it was wall to wall German "extreme" porn. It was kind of funny, because as I looked around my eyes met those of a fellow I immediately recognized. It was Jamie Gillis, male porn star from the 70's, shopping for the extreme stuff himself. After he left, I confirmed it with the male clerk who had replaced the girl in boots.

"Was that Jamie Gillis?" I asked.

"Yes," the clerk said with a smile and kind of a little chuckle.

Turns out old Jamie was making some pretty disgusting videos of his own then, which fortunately I never came across, but read about. They dealt with coprophilia..um, no thanks, I'll pass. However, I did select a promising looking German flick that had men and women urinating in living color, right on the front of the box. Paid $80 for the thing. But finally my pee fetish was being satisfied.

A little too satisfied, though. Like any good thing, there can be too much. The excitement of the chase was over. I could watch women pee on VHS, later on DVD, and finally as much as I wanted on the computer. As a visual stimulus, it became less exciting. Isn't that always the problem with porn? Eat too much cake, and it isn't a treat anymore. It becomes commonplace and loses its appeal. But I had not ever experienced watersports myself, unless you count the times I pissed myself in the bathtub. I didn't think I stood a chance.

I finally found a woman who would let me watch her pee, and not brand me as a sick pervert. Inge was a beautiful, busty blonde woman with an overactive bladder. A few times when we were out and about, she would suddenly become desperate. Once, we were parked in a lot and there was no one else near. I encouraged her to just squat by the car door and let it go, which she did. I didn't see the pee come out, but I heard it hissing on the pavement. And when she was done, I saw the huge puddle of delicious urine she had graced the ground with. I was really turned on, and when she got back in the car we started playing around and I fingered her to an orgasm and she jacked me off. The thought that my finger probably had her piss on it made my orgasm really powerful. I think I hit the car radio with a spurt of cum.

Another time, we were going to the zoo and were walking a ways to the entrance when desperation struck again. We ducked into a grove of trees, where Inge exclaimed, "oh oh," having just wet herself a bit. She undid her jeans and I could clearly see the wet spot on her panties. I suggested that she just squat and pee behind a tree, and this time I fucking watched. I saw her little butt crack part and her pouty pussy lips come into clear view. And then she unleashed a long and forceful stream of hot piss. I just took in this gorgeous sight, and then realized I needed to pee also. When Inge finished and pulled up her jeans, I told her I was going to pee. I had a semi-erection going when I took my cock out and I knew Inge was watching me. I started pissing a geyser, knowing full well she was seeing the entire thing. I kept getting harder as I pissed and was just so incredibly turned on. But the zoo was not a place to indulge my fetish any further.

Finally, Inge was at my house and we were naked. She said she had to pee before we fucked, and hoping I wasn't ruining the relationship, I asked if I could watch. She said yes, and she sat on the toilet and raised herself up a bit so I could have a clear view. I watched fascinated as her almost clear piss drained from her, and finally I couldn't take it and put my hand in the stream. I started to finger her as her urine was splashing all over my hand. I'm afraid I did freak her out a bit when I raised my finger to my hand and licked her pee off of it. But I had finally had a golden shower, even if it was only my hand that got wet. Later, I had to pee and she asked if I wanted her to watch. I said sure, and let her stand next and slightly behind me while I urinated into the toilet.

I have yet to convince Inge to get in the tub with me, straddle me, and spray me all over while I jack off in her hot piss. But then, there's that thrill of the chase I alluded to earlier. We all like to have something to look forward to, don't we?