He put his hand on the back of my head. Our dorm emptied one holiday weekend and we had the place to ourselves. I sipped again, holding it in my mouth. My pink slit mesmerized him. I kept masturbating and had a little orgasm while his hot urine streamed into my open mouth. I felt my heart beating again. I really wanted to see how his worked. I had to pee, but I didn’t want to stop fucking, I wanted to cum. Ahead of me, two boys ran out from behind a corner market. Then I got down on my knees and took him in my mouth. It felt wonderfully naked–and a little naughty. It reminded me of weak chicken broth. The snowbank couldn’t have been more secluded. I remember walking home from school one winter after a fresh snowfall. I drank from his warm fountain, salty and metallic. After the last few golden drops came out, he turned to me. But instead of using the women’s room, I followed him, giggling, right to a urinal. A
