He didn’t ask to do it every time he came over. Over the nine months or so I slept with him around 30 times which averages out around once a week. And he only asked a handful of those. I never said no.

We’d run to the bathroom, always post-sex and he would lay on the cold tiled floor with a towel underneath him, grinning. I would stand straight above, still in heels and some underwear. It was easier if I didn’t look at him, but at the window. At first it felt weird to just let go of my bladder and pee all over him. Funny even, I couldn’t stop giggling. The first time I was too nervous so it took a while. He waited, giving soft words of encouragement.

After the first time, it felt like a power move. He was so masculine in every other way, from the way he walked and spoke to how he fucked and fingered me, always to orgasm. More than once. Sure, I’d tried bits of pee play before, but usually with the guy wanting to do it over me. He’d often wiggle to move so the stream of piss went in his mouth or over his face. He loved it so much it was quite crazy to see him absolutely lapping it up.

I asked him what was so special about it. He told me everything, that a woman’s was so much nicer than a man’s. I never thought to ask how he knew.

I miss him a lot, especially that.