The Fluid Swallower

"Just relax and let it flow."

I stood up and positioned my cock near Rachael's mouth, who was masturbating furiously.

Closing my eyes, I attempted to unblock the plumbing.

The task was difficult.

"Think of work."

"Really?" I asked in surprised that meant the three beauties that I desired the most and I gained strength.

Concentrating on the more mundane aspects of my job, Rachael's suggestion worked, and before I knew it, I released a stream of yellow fluid all over her body much to her delight.

"Oh yeah!" I opened my eyes to see her massaging the fluid into her skin with one hand while furiously smashing her clit with the other.

Rachael orgasmed hard and fast with a mouthful of piss in her mouth which she swallowed readily. So, she was capable of orgasming more than once.

She took my semi-hard shaft in her hand and squealed in delight as a last drop of piss dribbled out. Then, Rachael took me down her throat for a traditional blowjob this time.

"Can we fuck?" I asked, not wanting to waste an opportunity.

"No, baby," Came the expected reply, "I'm sore down there."

"Arse?"

"That cock is going nowhere near that hole, ever again!"

"But I need to come!" I said rather pathetically.

"Then come down in my mouth."

I wanted pussy badly, but the compromised offer was better than nothing, I suppose.

Rachael asked me to lie down, and I closed my eyes and let her go to work and earn my orgasm this time.

To my surprise, she rose to the occasion and stuck at her task until the second of my two fluids filled her mouth while I buckled in pleasure.

While better than anything that proceeded it, my orgasm was not very strong or memorable. The piss play was, however.

And that was the last we saw of each other till Christmas,

So, Xmas rolled around, and I was happy to get away from the oppressive atmosphere of the university. That first semester as a freshman was one of the most difficult challenges of my early adult life, but, life became brighter, more productive, enjoyable, and sexually experimental.

That was in the future, though.

A few days into the Xmas break, my younger brother and I drove to the "delightful" seaside town of Scarborough -- soon to acquire the dubious moniker of "Scarbados". I parked the car in the North Street car park and, as I wandered towards the shopping strip, I bumped into Rachael and her feisty Grandmother.

Coincidently, our parties were both there for Xmas shopping.

"Hi Jason," Exclaimed a visibly excited Rachael who threw her arms around me and hugged me tightly, "Good to see you again!"

"Yeah, you too," I replied with feigned but convincing sincerity.

After some minor small talk about our university experiences, including some introductions between our parties, I suddenly asked if Rachael wanted to catch up for a drink in our hometown that evening. It was not my intention to do so, but some voice inside me did the deed without my conscious consent, probably based on my lack of success in Sheffield during my first semester.

"I'd like that," Rachael's eyes immediately brightened at my offer, thinking, like me, that she was on the winning ticket. "Let's meet at the Bay Horse at 7 pm?"

"Done, see you there."

With that, Rachael pecked me on the cheek and directed her Grandmother in a different direction to where we were heading.

Back home a couple of hours later, after a shitty and unrewarding shopping experience, in a rapidly fading winter sun, my mother said that Rachael phoned and could we make our meeting an hour later. On my behalf and without my input, my mother agreed probably harbouring a diminished hope that she could mash Rachael and me together.

The time change was advantageous as it allowed me to enjoy a couple of pre-date drinks with my school mates at different taverns. Dutch courage was a double-edged sword where dating and I was concerned. Still, a couple of beers before meeting Rachael would settle my nerves.

Suitably fortified, I walked the short distance to the Bay Horse and noted the rapidly falling winter temperature. The outstanding characteristic of the British pub scene is the roaring fires that greet patrons when they enter. Layers of insulating clothing are instantly discarded the moment one takes his or her seat with their drinks.

Rachael was fashionable early and secured a table in a crowded loungeroom. I noticed that she was sipping on a vodka-based drink. I ordered a pint and sat down opposite her on a low stool.

"Give me a kiss!" Rachael reached over the table and pursed her lips.

Not knowing who might see this and embarrass me, but not wanting to disappoint my guest, I closed my eyes and reached forward. Our lips met, and I was immediately struck by the cherry Chapstick flavour of her lips. I felt a slight jump in my groin.

To my surprise, we had a joke-filled evening, interspersed with some flirting. The increased level of drunkenness in me made me relax to the point where I was not too fussed about who saw me with Rachael. Looking back, I was ashamed of my undeserved ego. My prophetic mother's wisdom ultimately won the day as I grew up, older and more experienced.

"I've missed you!" Whispered Rachael in my ear as I changed my position to sit next to her.

"Oh, how come?"

"Come?" Cooed Rachael ever being brash, "Mm, I love cum."

I snickered at her smuttiness.

"I know," I responded, "But why have you missed me?"

"Haven't been getting any at Uni." She answered, at least acknowledging that at worst all we enjoyed was a physical relationship.

Despite living in the same town, I did not want a real relationship with Rachael, and I think over the last six months, she came to realise it. So fuck it, let us simply fuck for pleasure's sake.

"Sure you have," I said, "Me, on the other hand..."

"Oh, don't lie."

"No," I responded, earnestly and honestly, "Life outside of the home is more challenging than I realised."

"So, you're not getting any?" Asked Rachael with eyes wide in surprise.

I shook my head in depression.

"Woe is you," Mocked Rachael, "And me."

"It's easier for a woman."

"Yes, it is," She replied thoughtfully, "But it is harder to get what you want."

"Meaning?" I asked, not sure where Rachael was going with this conversation.

"I seek quality over quantity."

"Don't we all?"

"It's not as easy as it sounds." Words that ring true today.

"So, you have been getting some at Uni?"

"Of course," Answered Rachael with a smile, "But it hasn't been...fulfilling."

"Oh?" I was under the impression that every hole was a goal even for women.

Mind you; there was one experience I had last summer that underlined Rachael's point that validated her statement.

"Anybody can drunkenly fuck someone else," Rachael began, "But to be fulfilled, you need a connection."

"A relationship?"

"Not at all," I sensed Rachael's frustration with my naiveite, "An ongoing connection with a sense of exploration makes for some mind-blowing sexual experiences."

It was apparent how this night was going to end up.

We arrived at my place around 10 pm. My parents were in bed upstairs, and I could hear my father snoring loudly from the bedroom. At least my folks would not know about our liaison -- the perfect crime.

"You want wine?" I asked, opening the fridge.

"If you're offering..."

It was my parent's wine that I was offering, but one glass would not be missed.

"Here you go."

We clinked a wine glass with a beer bottle and took respective swigs. The intense look of Rachael's eyes into mine resembled fire tearing through a dry forest.

Neither of us finished our drinks before we crept upstairs to my bedroom.

Once inside, we kissed passionately and tore each other's clothes from our bodies. I picked up Rachael's chunky frame and gently laid it on my bed. When I laid down beside her, she pulled me beside her. Unexpectedly, Rachael aggressively swung her hip over mine, straddling me. During these gymnastics, our lips were rarely broken as we kissed with a ferocious intensity.

I expected Rachael to plant my raging spear in her shaved cunt, but I was again pleasantly surprised. Instead, she broke our kiss and shuffled down the bed.

Goody, I was going to get a blowjob.

And a blowjob I received.

Unlike all previous encounters, Rachael took her time and did an excellent job of turning me on. I guess she finally got the memo that when I gentleman invests the foreplay time on a lady, it is reasonable to expect the same in return. Better late than never from Rachael.

"Do you want me to do the 'thing'?" Rachael asked when she brought me to peak hardness.

The family bathroom was next door to my parent's bedroom. If we engaged in water sports, they would hear for sure, and we would be busted.

"We can't do it here."

"Don't worry," Rachael reassured with a smile, "I won't spill a drop."

Uncertain as to her boast, disappointed over so many others in the past, I reluctantly agreed because Rachael had done an unusually useful job in blowing me to maximum hardness, as well as peak horniness.

Thus fortified, Rachael spat on the palm of her hand and massaged the saliva across her fingers. A moment later, she took my raging length down her throat and then I felt her lubed fingers make their tentative way towards my sphincter. I momentarily tensed up at first contact.

Rachael's practised method soon relaxed me. The twin actions of blowjob and anal penetration had me seeing stars, the pleasure indescribable.

Seconds into this action, I felt the unbearable combination of pleasure and pain, as Rachael simultaneously sucked on my helmet and digitally massaged my prostate. I felt short bursts of non-orgasmic discharge that sent me wild. At no point was Rachael's lips disconnected from my length, but I heard the distinct sound of swallowing as she drunk down my piss.

Minutes later, I was still writing in pleasure and plain, but I was not discharging yellow fluid. True to her word, Rachael emptied my bladder. My fluid was in her stomach.

"Yummy!"

Mercifully, Rachael released her grip on my member, and I slumped back on the bed, relieved that the unbearable intensity on my bladder had slackened.

I glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table, thirty minutes had elapsed and what an experience that was.

"Turnabout is fair play!" Smiled Racheal proudly while gently stroking my post-piss hard-on.

I was still not sold on the concept of golden showers, but it did intrigue me. Previously, etiquette demanded I politely, and without complaint, drink everything Rachael gave me, else I might be denied an orgasm.

"Don't worry, I won't pee on your bed," Rachael reassured me with a grin as we shuffled positions, "Just drink what I have for you."

Just to be sure, I surreptitiously grabbed a towel from the bathroom and laid it underneath Rachael's amply buttocks.

I did indeed enjoy eating Rachael's pussy as it was so tasty and fragrant. I particularly enjoyed the sensation of her orgasming on my tongue. What I did not enjoy was the fact that she regularly unleashed her piss in my mouth without warning. I made this objection several times in the past.

"I'll tell you when I'm going to squirt this time."

"You promise?" I asked half-jokingly.

"You fucking love it, you dirty pervert!"

So, I went down on Rachael's shaved and juicy pussy. I employed my usual method of tonguing her clit, penetrating her pussy, and tickling her spasming arsehole. Why she would not let me stick my cock there remained a great regret. However, gaining the brown wings was only three months into the future.

True to her word, Rachael gave me a warning when a spurt of piss was coming my way. Glad for the towel, for her stream went everywhere. My inebriation dulled the reaction from the acrid taste as I forced her fluid down my throat. Several shots later and I seemed to be reconciled to the act.

"Babe, I need you in me!" Moaned Rachael, as her bladder had drained.

I withdrew my slimy, piss-stained face from Rachael's cunt, rose on my haunches and positioned my quivering cock against her dripping mound and pressed ahead.

"Oh, yeah!"

Unsurprisingly, Rachael came within a minute of fucking, but this time she told me to keep going.

"Won't that hurt?" I asked, surprised at this unexpected turn of events.

"Just keep going." She replied, slamming my hip into hers.

This was a change in the programme but, I was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. I kept hammering away to my immense pleasure.

We fucked for the longest time ever and in multiple positions. Rachael "orgasmed" many times but, rather than stopping, she kept encouraging me to go harder.

The build-up to our meeting, the flirting in the pub, the alcohol, and the fact that we had been at it for longer than ever, inevitably took its toll on me.

This orgasm was going to be huge!

I'm going to come!" I hissed with sweat pouring down my face.

For the first time, Rachael's pussy made me climax rather than me wanking off in front of her.

"In my mouth!"

I pulled out of her slick pussy and grabbed the base of my groaning cock.

Shuffling up the bed, I positioned the helmet against Rachael's bottom lip; her mouth wide open to receive my seed with her hands on my thighs.

When I released the grip off the base of my cock, my balls unleashed rope after rope of hot semen, across Rachael's face and into her maw.

I shuddered and moaned at the pleasure of releasing an orgasm that had been so pent up over the last six months. I caught Rachael at her best, the culmination of teasing, flirting and actual sexual delivery. Our meeting was a real give and take encounter, the way it should have been from the very start. However, I long ago realised that her private intimate experience did not match Rachael's public sexual confidence.

"Fucking hell, Jason," Gasped Rachael struggling to swallow, "That's your biggest load yet."

"Yeah, well you got me turned on!" Which was true, this time.

"I should do that more often." Yes, yes, you should.

I was utterly exhausted, and it was late, so Rachael and I quickly dressed. I walked her home, and she passionately kissed me when we reached her house.

That satisfying encounter with Rachael was my last.

Christmas rolled around in short order and with all my school buddies temporarily back in town, and we went on an epic booze-bender. Maybe ten of us ended up at a friend's house as Xmas-eve transitioned into Xmas-day. We continued non-stop partying, with intermittent micro-sleeps and spews, into the afternoon until our seemingly indestructible bodies began to give out.

I tried to focus my brain on my eyes to look at my watch. I knew I was supposed to be home around 3 pm for the family dinner. I missed that deadline by two hours.

Shit! My parents were going to be pissed (no pun intended) at me, and rightly so.

I staggered to my feet, drunk, and attempted to make sense of my surroundings. Somehow, I managed to stagger home in the depressing gloom of winter. My only thought was my bed.

As I crossed the threshold, my parents gave me the dressing down I deserved, but, through the marathon of alcoholic fog, I spied a non-family member, Rachael.

"Oh, god!" I cursed internally.

My mother had invited her around for Xmas dinner, still trying, pathetically, to play cupid. Why Rachael was not enjoying Xmas with her own family was a mystery, but I found her presence irritating, to say the least, but I kept that to myself.

I hastily wolfed down some leftovers and went to bed to sleep off my dangerously threatening level of intoxication. Next day, Boxing Day, I awoke without a hangover but with heavy guilt borne of irresponsibility.

As I joined my family for breakfast, I noticed that Rachael was still here, albeit on her way out the door.

Why was she here in the morning?

Later that day, my elder brother confessed that he has 'slept' with Rachael overnight, and, unsurprisingly, agreed that she was a bedroom disappointment overall. More boast than brilliant.

That was the last I saw or heard from Rachael until the 'magic' of Facebook about fifteen years later. After graduating, Rachael settled down in Wales and had a thriving family while I lived in the Antipodes.

While I do not regret the choices made back in the day regarding Rachael, her cum- and pee-swallowing fetishes were undoubtedly unique. They certainly coloured my approach to future sexual enlightenment.