That man pissed like a fucking racehorse.  If she didn’t know better, the sound alone would have her believing he was blasting a firehose instead.  It took everything in her to keep her eyes on the lookout and not glance to check on what was happening back there.  And the way he groaned in relief as he emptied his tank?  Ugh, what was wrong with him?  What was wrong with her?

“You about done?” she asked, masking her intrigue as impatience.

“Almost,” replied Dude over the noise of his mighty piss stream.

The flow eventually tapered off and the sound of his zipper announced his completion.  She turned around, looking down at the puddle on that asphalt that looked more like a pond.  She couldn’t form a snarky remark.  Maybe she’d had too much to drink, but she was utterly awestruck.  With a shake of her head, she managed to reign herself in.

“Let’s get home.”

“You gonna crash with me tonight?” he asked, tossing an arm over her shoulder as they continued back to his place from the Fire in the Hole.  “Would prefer you not to have to go all the way across town alone at this time of night.”

“Aww… And you claim you don’t care.”

Dude barked out a laugh.  “Care?  Please.  It’s selfishness if anything.  Something were to happen to you?  I’d be the very first suspect, and I’d prefer not to be questioned.  Too much shit they could find on me even if I wasn’t found guilty.”

He wasn’t wrong there.  He was both the sketchiest person she hung out with and the person she was with most often.  “Fine.  If you insist, I’ll stay.”

She wasn’t thrilled to be staying in his dumpy trailer, but it was only a few minutes away and she did not belong behind the wheel this tipsy.  They walked through the dark, deserted trails of Paradise before they ended up in the lot that he called home.

Inside the trailer, Dude headed straight for the fridge.  His night of drinking wasn’t done yet; he retrieved a six pack from within and walked it over to the couch.  She stood near the door and watched as he plopped down onto the couch, cracked open a cold one, then chugged it to completion.  After burping into his fist, he pulled another can free and held it up for her.

“You gonna stand there looking stupid all night or join me?”

At the invitation, she stepped over the clutter to sit herself beside him and sunk down into the worn plaid cushions.  She accepted the beer that he offered to her and he was already reaching for another.  Watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed the next beer, her thoughts began to drift back to him pissing in that alley.  If he kept drinking like that, his bladder would be full again in no time.  She took a sip of her own, trying to cool down the heat rising in her cheeks.

The night progressed and they kept drinking.  Rather, he kept drinking; she kept nursing the one beer while watching him.  Five beers in.  Sixty ounces…  Not to mention whatever was leftover from what he’d had earlier, if anything.  Man.  She took another sip as her mouth grew dry.

“Dude,” she blurted out, hoping to distract him from whatever mindless bullshit was playing on the TV.

“Hm?”

“How much can you drink?” she asked.

“Usually until I pass out.”

“No, I mean…”  She hesitated, trying to consider how to phrase the exact question she was trying to ask.  “How much can you hold?”

He continued looking at her with a blank expression until her words finally seemed to click to his buzzed brain.

“Like my bladder?”

“Yeah,” she said.  “A normal person would’ve gone to piss by now.”

Dude shrugged.  “Think the doc said mine’s enlarged or something.”

“Oh.”

“… The fuck you blushing for?”

“What?” she balked.  “I’m not—”

“Bullshit,” he said, cutting her off.  “You into that or something?”

“Yeah.”

Her blunt response shut him right up.  The room went quiet, only the sound of the dripping faucet echoing through the silence.

“Shit, really?” Dude quietly asked after a pause.  When she nodded, he ran a hand over his head and chuckled.  “Guess I should have figured.  You’re into almost everything else.”

She nodded again.  It wasn’t like this was a huge secret fetish of hers.  It was just something she happened to enjoy…  Even more when he was involved, for some reason.

He stood up without warning and began walking across the trailer.  “C’mon.”

She rose to her feet, no questions asked.  He flung open the door to the bathroom and gestured for her to enter.  She met him where he stood and stepped inside.  The room got cramped when he followed her in.

“So…” He started to unbuckle his belt.  “You into watching or being the urinal or what?”

She shrugged.  “Both.”

“Get in the tub.”

She squeezed past him to step into the tub and sit down.

“Can’t say I ever did this to someone who wanted it,” he laughed while unzipping his pants.  “Open wide.”

She didn’t know if he said that to be funny or not, but her mouth dropped open before he’d even pulled his dick out of his boxers.  He stood outside the tub and got in the stance.  With cock in hand, he aimed it right for her face.  She let out a soft gasp at the initial splash of the warmth on her skin.  Sputters began when it touched her tongue.  God, he needed to start drinking water.  His piss was foul, in both taste and smell.  He aimed lower, hosing down her tits before pointing even further down.  There was so damn much of it. 

He leaned over her, holding the wall to steady himself without stopping.  The stream hadn’t weakened in the slightest.  She was getting absolutely drenched.  She squirmed beneath him, feeling herself growing wetter by the second, and not just from his piss.