The Dirtiest Experience Yet!

Online dating is like a negative lottery for many members of their desired site. The ratio of guys to girls is generally 95:5 and for the females, it is like searching for a needle in a haystack. For genuine men (rather than the players), standing out from the crowd of 'dick pics' with limited vocabulary is an ongoing challenge. When decent guys get noticed then they must exercise caution because there are a lot of damaged females out there. With these caveats in mind, online dating has its merits and enables some purely unique fantasies to come true.

A few years ago, I was trawling the list of supposed female 'matches' and came across a curious profile of a young woman who lived close by. In her description of herself, she noted that her profile had previously been reported to the admin as seeking money for sex but that wasn't the case. Her profile was genuine, and she was seeking something specific from a fuckbuddy. She was looking for older men for casual encounters in public places or at their homes as her home was off limits because she was house sharing. She was seeking fantasies to satisfy and went on to mention her own. She wanted to experience golden showers, "Even if we meet up and you get your load off, if you want to piss on me or in my mouth then I'm up for it." She was up for being filmed so long as privacy was assured (a big gamble in today's networked age) and she went on to describe her body and looks in terms that suggested a lack of confidence. The photos she supplied underlined this; chubby, stretch marks, no shot of her face. She was 23 and seeking a male in his 40s or older. The sex acts she was prepared to engage in was as extensive as it was depraved. Her profile reeked of desperation, submission and a lack of self-worth. Whilst not predatory in anyway, I added her to my 'favourites' list purely based on her description of wanting to engage in golden showers with the anticipation that she might update her profile and reveal further details about herself. I had no intention of pursuing her, but little did I know that we would indeed meet up in the future.

Fast forward a few months and I was using the live chat functionality on the dating website (access for paid up male members, females access it for free without membership). When people I've added to my 'favourites list' log on to the site, I received a notification. One this day, this young woman with a longing for golden showers logged on for first time since I viewed her profile. Curious, I sent her a 'whisper' and to my surprise she responded (remember the 95:5 rule above?). We chatted benignly for a while before I suggested we move to a private chat room where the general conversation of the mob was eliminated. She agreed. We chatted some more but the conversation wasn't sexual. We agreed to meet online for chats again.

About a week into our online socialising, she broached the topic of sex (we were on an online dating site after all). Attempting to stand out from the crowd of dickhead males that infest such sites, I had kept the conversation plutonic to build a level of trust and comfort. She asked me what I liked sexually. At this point, I could have laid out my whole, filthy table of depravity but I kept it generic not scare her off. So far, so good. She even sent me a face photo which was in line with my evaluation of her. No Miss Universe but no ugly duckling either. When she described some of her recent one-nighters, my impression of her lack of self-esteem was reinforced. Guys used her for what she offered, and they gave nothing in return which left her feeling hollow inside. I guess I'd be just another profile passing through her panties but if they were the boundaries then we'd both respect them.

Over the course of another week, we chatted sex in a private online room; she told me she would play with herself to climax over our explicit dialogue, "You give good online" she said one time. I was glad I made her cum from our conversation as the odds for a meeting were on the rise. I wanted to raise the issue of golden showers with her but didn't want to scare her off, despite it being her fantasy that interested me. Anyway, one day I felt confident enough to raise it.

"So, I have to ask. What's the appeal of golden showers?"

I expected a long pause while she overcame her embarrassment. Instead, I saw that she began trying a reply immediately.

"When I was young, like, ten or so, I was with a boy from school and we walking home through the park. He asked me if I wanted to watch him pee."

"And?"

"I said ok and he took his cock out and peed on the ground LOL."

"What did you think of it?" I asked in growing anticipation.

"I couldn't take my eyes of what he was doing. It made me feel funny inside."

"Then what?"

"He asked me to pee too."

"Did you?"

"Not that day but I did later."

"Had he been peeing for you after that first time?"

"I few times LOL"

"What made you pee for him?"

"Well, I didn't know it at the time but watching him pee was turning me on and he kept asking, so one day I agreed."

"What happened?"

"I squat down the ground, pulled my knickers aside and peed on the ground. It was hard at first, but then it came out and puddled on his."

"How did you feel?"

"Very erotic at the time. We knew it was naughty and wrong. I've never done it since but every time, I think of that experience, I get wet."

"Do you act on that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you play?"

"Sometimes."

"Do you come hard?"

"Yes LOL"

This conversation was certainly making me hard.

She asked me whether I had any previous experience and I replied that I had. Amanda, alert now, asked me to describe them and I imagined that she was playing with herself as I recounted my history. I began by describing how I watched Videorama-banded German pornos (actually dubbed French films) from the golden age of the 90s - the Harry S Morgan era - before going onto my experience with Sandra, described in the story Winning the Golden Ticket. I went on to tell Amanda how my ex-wife would "squirt" but it was really piss when she begged me to fist her. There wasn't much in the way of replies from Amanda as I typed out these experiences, so I hoped she was busy while reading the lines on the screen.

When I finished my tales, she said they were "hot" and observed that I had plenty of experience with water sports.

"There's always room for improvement." I replied.

"How is that?"

"I've found that the key to enjoying it is creating the right mood, whether it be the intimacy or just wanton lust."

"So, if you were to show me, what would you recommend?"

"I would want to make you trust me and be comfortable being with me. We've both got to enjoy it."

"Ok."

"How does that sound?" I asked, trying to gauge her thinking.

"Yeah, good." The mood seemed to have changed, distant.

I sensed that she had lost interest in our conversation, possibly after orgasming over my stories. It was also getting late and it was a "school" night so we said our goodnights and agreed to meet up online again.

Despite checking my account, I didn't see her online for a few days which, naturally, disappointed me. About a week later, I noticed she was 'live' and despite my first impulse to ping her, I played it aloof, seeing if she would make a move.

She did, "Hi Jason" said the chat message.

"How's it going?"

"Much better now." She replied.

"Where've you been?" I enquired of her absence.

"I've been on the rags!" She responded, rather crudely.

"Ahh"

"Yeah, wasn't feeling horny with the cramps."

"Fair enough. All good now?" I enquired, hopefully.

"LOL yeah."

We continued to chat further, and I tried to venture the conversation into the risqué territory but that was when she floored me.

"Do you fancy meeting up sometime?"

Rhetorical answer, "Sure."

I was taken aback by her forwardness, thinking I'd lost her judging by her earlier online absence. She reiterated that her place was out on account of her housemates and their newborn. I would have offered mine as I lived alone but I knew she would decline on personal safety grounds, so I suggested a nearby bar or café, but she had something else in mind.

"We could meet at Tollington Oval on Saturday and take it from there?"

"Yeah, ok."

Amanda was being sensible, and it worked for me too. If she turned out to be a psycho, I'd rather deal with that at a location that wasn't my house or favourite watering hole. She also told me that there was no explicit promise of sex to which I assented.

We only had 48 hours to wait and the build-up to the meet was intense. The hours, for me, slowed down to a crawl. We'd exchanged mobile numbers and reassuring text messages flowed back and forth to assure us that our date remained on track right up to midday Saturday. Despite that, there was always a nagging doubt in my mind that she'd fail to turn up because it seemed too good to be true.

Saturday finally arrived. The Melbourne weather forecast was for a hot, humid day, followed by an intense summer thunderstorm, likely to wash the city clean. I meticulously prepared myself; a complete trim of my downstairs region, deodorant and aftershave. I was hot to trot. At 4pm, when I stepped out of my house, the air was heavy and oppressive, with storm clouds building. I walked the short distance to the park to suss out the situation and I had with me a chiller bag of beers to help ease the meeting (I'd already consumed a few pre-date beers to help me along).

I arrived at our designated meeting spot and noticed the oval was all but deserted; just a couple of dog walkers and some kids kicking a football as they walked from one end to the other, no doubt heading home before the storm hit. The oval itself was nestled in substantive parkland. There were thick trees all over the perimeter, providing shelter and shade. Within the grounds, there were coin-operated BBQs, gazebos and tables for family gatherings. I had chosen a spot close to the tree-line where a toilet block was located. Convenient really, given the potential action that might occur. Depending upon the weather, we'd be taking shelter in a gazebo or the toilet block. I sat down at a nearby table, looking across the oval, waiting for a sign of Amanda's arrival, quietly sipping on another beer and checking my phone.

As 5pm approached, the anticipation began to build, and the beer had a noticeable effect on several areas of my body. Would she show? There were faint rumbling sound in the distance, indicating the forthcoming storm. At 5.05pm, I couldn't see anyone at the oval, and why would there when a large storm was about to strike? Sensible people would be indoors but here I was sitting on a bench, beer in hand, hoping for this filthy millennial with a fantasy for golden showers to turn up.

Ten minutes later, I was about to give up but then from the north-west corner of the oval, I noticed a figure approaching, lone and solitary, not in any rush. Was it her? I couldn't tell at this distance, but my pulse quickened with the anticipation. The figure drew closer and my heart (and cock) leapt because it was her. I stood up from the bench and waved, she waved back, the heavens rumbled, and the skies darkened further.

"Amanda?"

"Yes, hi"

"How are you?"

"Ok, I guess. Nervous." A little giggle as we hugged.

"Yeah, me too." And I was. Would she live up to her own billing? Would I?

"How's this weather?" I continued.

"I know. I didn't want to chance it."

"Glad you did." She was shaking, shivering despite the humidity.

She wore a thin, black leather jacket, a woollen jumper that promoted her "stretch-marked" boobs larger than her photos suggested, a short fabric skirt and a pair of flat shoes. She was prettier than her online 'live' appearances and she'd 'glammed' up for our meet, perhaps to impress me. I motioned for her to sit down on the park bench and we sat next to each other, not close, and gazed across the oval. There was an uncomfortable silence for what seemed like an age. I offered her a beer which she gladly accepted.

A sudden crack of thunder shook her frame. She was startled, perhaps scared.

"Wow!"

"Yeah. It's going to hit down hard." She said. That's what the TV channels kept on saying.

"Well, if we stay out here, we might get wet?" I half joked, aware of the double entendre.

She laughed and took a swig from her can, "Well, that's what we here for, eh?"

"I guess so!" So, sex might be on the agenda after all?

She gave me a knowing glance, still nervous, maybe today would be the day. Perhaps not.

We cracked another beer and I noticed she relaxed a little.

She turned to me and said, "How come you don't have golden showers as a sexual interest on your profile?"

"I guess because it's a particular kink that's not shared by many women. Putting it on my profile might further restrict my 'eligibility'". This was a reference to most of the vulgar men on dating sites that we had previously joked about during our online chats.

"So, it's a secret kink then?"

"Very much so!" We both laughed. The ice was breaking as the heavens were preparing to open.

We watched a guy, ambling across the oval with his dog, clearly in no rush when another crack of thunder hit.

"If he doesn't get a move on, he'll get wetter than us!"

Amanda laughed loudly.

"Different kind of wet though!"

"True, but I know which type of drenching I prefer."

"Really, what kind?" Amanda asked. Up to that point, we'd only chatted about her her golden shower penchant. I doubt it occurred to her that I'd be expecting some of her nectar as well. Rather than answer directly, I did my Mr Spock, raising the eyebrow thing.

"You are a dirty bastard, aren't you?" She giggled. Rhetorical, obviously.

"It must have crossed your mind?"

"Nope." She lied.

"Well, now it's out there and fair is fair."

She cocked her head in acknowledgement and looked away. We cracked a third beer and I was feeling decidedly uncomfortable. I'd have to piss sooner rather than later, preferably with her involvement.

To my surprise and disappointment, Amanda excused herself and quickly trotted over to the toilet block. Why couldn't she do it here, at the table, with me because there was no-one around and that's what we were here to do, among other filthy antics? Perhaps she felt too self-conscious and not yet ready? The best course of action was to let the play unfold naturally. Perhaps not at this juncture but at another very soon? Whilst thinking of her pissing on the toilet got me horny, it brought home to me that my own need for that convenience was not far away.

A few minutes later, Amanda came back to me, happy for the relief.

"That's better. I thought I was going to burst!" She said with grin.

"A pity you didn't!"

"Oh, that's right, you want to see me pee, don't you?" Feigned innocence.

"Yes please."

"How much?"

"I'll give you another beer to help you along."

She laughed. "You're cheeky!"

Another crack of thunder, then a flash of lightning and the first drops of...rain. Nature's power startled us. Amanda dropped her can on the table, startled, and it spilled froth and beer onto my lap. She quickly recovered the can and then reached down with her hand to flick the liquid off my shorts.

"I'm so sorry," she exclaimed with a laugh, "that was right overhead!"

I turned ninety degrees to face her and hurdled my right leg over the seat.

"You missed a bit."

She knew exactly what I meant. Whilst no beer had spilled on my crotch, I signalled to her where I wanted her next hand movement. She looked at me with a knowing glance, straddled the bench like I had and placed both hands on my knees and leaned in for a kiss.

Our lips locked in a rather uncoordinated manner at first. For a few seconds, our lips adjusted, and we snogged, not furiously but rhythmically, without any urgency but with passion. I placed my hands on her hips and we continued to pash.

Raindrops became heavier and we broke our first snog.

"Yummy" she said as she leaned back and took a swig from her depleted can. Her left hand was still on my knee. We scanned the oval, not a soul in sight, good.

We kissed some more, and her hands made their way up my thighs, mine were on hers. I spread my legs a little wider, hoping to impart a hint. She giggled into our kiss, wise to my clumsy manoeuvre.

I slipped my hands under her top expecting to find her breasts encased in a pesky bra. Nothing, wow. Her tits felt bigger than the two photos she'd posted online suggested but I couldn't feel hard nipples. Little whimpers emanated from her as I kneaded her breasts whilst we kissed but her hands didn't move from my thighs.

As we continued kissing, I moved one hand from her breast to her thigh with the intention to move it under her black skirt and see what dwelt underneath. I was to be as surprised down below as I was above top. I worked my hand along the inside of her thigh, her skin felt smooth and moisturised. Widening her legs allowed me greater access and I could feel an increase in heat. Heat emanating from her sweet box of delight. When I got to her front bottom, there were no panties to negotiate, nothing, nada. She came to our date completely commando!

I negotiated my way to the devil's doorbell and found she was dripping like a fucked fridge. My touch sent electric pulses through her body while the energy in our snogging intensified. Access to her fuck hole was easy and I slipped a finger in. Shit, she was tight. For someone who herself implies in her profile to be a slut, she had a tight snatch and, on this day, it was juicy and wet. I was rock hard.

We continued kissing as I fingered her pussy. Her moans of appreciation grew louder until she broke our lip lock to announce her orgasm. She came with a whimper, despite no-one being around to see or hear, but waves of pleasure surged through her body. Her head faced the bench we were sitting on, and remained there for a few seconds, before I asked, "How was that?"

She breathed heavily but didn't look up at me. Instead, with her hands around my waist, she raised up her right hand and gave me the "A'ok" sign with her fingers. She looked up at me, flushed and we kissed.

"No bra and panties! What's the go?" I asked about her brazenness.

"Well I figured that they wouldn't be needed and so I didn't put them on." She giggled. Here's a girl with some forward planning, despite her denial 48 hours earlier that sex wasn't guaranteed. This was a big tick in my estimation.

"Now I want to return the favour." She simply stated.

She looked down at my crotch as her hands down there towards my bulge. She fumbled with the clasp and zipper but easily negotiated such a simple obstacle. She pulled down my boxer shorts to free my throbbing member, drenched in pre-cum and with a bladder about to burst. I wasn't sure how this scenario was going to play out.

She looked down at my cock, wanked it slowly, said nothing and then plunged her mouth onto it. On one of our previous online chats, Amanda told me that she liked to use her mouth to get men off. One of her pleasures was to feel men explode in her mouth. She loved the taste, the texture and the feel of a man's seed. She was a greedy swallower. She took to my engorged cock with gusto, each up and down movement of her piston-like mouth elicited moans of pleasure.

This action went on for a short time and her fellatio was great, but the pressure on my bladder couldn't be ignored anymore and so I broached the subject.

"Amanda, that feels amazing but I'm going to need to pee."

No reaction. Do I let her continue knowing that I might let go inside her mouth or do I physically restrain her until my visit to the toilet is complete?