Watersports

Nathan looked me right in the eye when he passed me at the gym. As I was about to say “Hello” he just continued on by. I hadn’t seen him in months and was strangely excited to see him again, everything considered. I’d stopped returning his phone calls, which is probably why he ignored me. It really wasn’t my fault though. We’d only spent a total of six evenings together and it was purely sexual for the most part. Plus, he was in an open relationship, which I was cool with. It really had nothing to do with why I cut him off.

Truth was that during our time together I thought of him as a sort of brother. Maybe that’s why I was glad to see him. We were the same age and shared the same level of curiosity about kinky sex. He was a sadist, no doubt, and I tended to be more of a masochist, so we created a forum where we could explore both sides of our personalities. I’d often ask him to whip me with a belt or pinch me so that he could indulge in his sadistic side. I was glad that I could help him in that way. We were affectionate too, and would cuddle for hours afterwards, talking about life, just like two brothers would.

One afternoon, out of the blue, I’d sent him a text asking if he’d pee on me. I’d never been pissed on before but had seen it in porn so I was very curious about it. He was excited by the idea and even asked whether I’d wear a jockstrap when he did it so that it would soak up his urine (he was very creative that way). “Sure, I’ll wear a jockstrap,” I said.

He came over later that evening and stripped me down at the door. “Look at you,” he said, leading me over to the sofa while caressing my bare ass. It gave me goosebumps. He then pushed me onto the sofa, got naked and climbed on top of me with all of his weight pressing against my legs. He was stocky with a bit of a belly and had arms double the size of mine. His size and strength were somewhat intimidating, but in all the right ways.

“I should just piss on you right here,” he whispered, with a primal look in his eyes.

“Go for it,” I said even though I was worried about getting urine on the sofa. I’d just purchased it from EQ3 and didn’t want it to get soiled, but I didn’t want to ruin the moment either. He tried and tried, but luckily he could only get a single drop out, which I cleverly balanced on my chest. “I need a beer,” he said, going into the kitchen. “Meet me in the bathroom.”

My corner shower wasn’t ideal for watersports since it could only fit one person. When he joined me in the bathroom, I asked whether he wanted me to get inside of it. He stared at me for a moment with that same wild look in his eyes, then threw his right hand back and whacked me across the face as hard as he could. I was disoriented for a moment; my head was ringing. “Get on your knees,” he said, shoving me in the shower. I did as I was told, still feeling dizzy. He took a large gulp of beer and sprayed it back into my eyes. It strung so bad that I couldn’t open them right away. He proceeded to piss on me, first on my face, then down to my chest. It was much warmer than I imagined it to be and it collected at the jockstrap, soaking in like he wanted it to. When he was done, he crushed the can of beer and threw it next to me on the shower floor. “Wash up,” he ordered, leaving me in the bathroom alone.

I heaved myself up slowly, using the walls of the shower, and then pulled the soggy jockstrap down just past my ass so that it just dropped to my ankles. I kicked it off with my left foot and leaned against the wall for a moment, catching my breath. I didn’t bother moving the empty beer can from the shower floor.

Even after I cleaned myself I could feel his urine all over my body. I felt it for days in fact.

He was laying in my bed when I got out the bathroom. "Let's cuddle," he said. I was still stunned by the whole episode so I cuddled him anyway; I was in no mood for a confrontation, not after that. When he finally left I promised myself that I'd never sleep with him again. Why I got excited to see him at the gym was far beyond me.

I don’t enjoy having beer sprayed into my eyes nor do I like being whacked across the face unexpectedly (it can be hot if you ask for it). Being somewhat masochistic, his actions didn’t hurt me physically, per se—I have a high tolerance for pain—and I have since enjoyed watersports a great deal. I guess it was more about consent. I saw Nathan as a sadist who couldn’t control his impulses; it was as simple as that. Did that make him a bad person? I honestly don’t know.

Perhaps he ignored me at the gym because he didn’t understand that what he had done was wrong; that consent is key to any sort of kinky play. Perhaps he felt like I was the asshole for not returning any of his messages after that. Perhaps it didn’t matter.