Thursday

The balancing act

Coming out of the bathroom bearing the bowl, one stood in His study doorway and indicated the patch of tile that allows him a good view when one pees. He looked at it, shook his head and said no I think we will use the coffee table. The bad slave lip curled... having just finished folding laundry the table was covered in neatly folded stuff and the usual electronic paraphernalia... all of which would have to be moved... and none of which was going to get one peeing any sooner. In the wink of an eye it was whipped away... strange how domestic He can become under the right circumstances.

Hopping up onto the table, which is a solid piece of the ex's that He took a fancy to (there is that Scorpio planning in action), one positioned the bowl and carefully knelt over it. No, I think it would look better with you squatting. Adjusting the position one tried again and waited for his cue of satisfaction. He nodded and settled into the couch, masturbating while he watched. Squatting there one waited for the body to comply... and discovered that one couldn't actually pee in that position. Every once in a while one finds a position like that. It means one will be practising again in the near future... it gives Him a better view.

Shifting back to the original position the body complied and produced a stream of light golden pee. It splattered against the side of the bowl making a tinkling sound before pooling on the bottom. When finished one looked at Him for permission to get up. Stay there He said. Standing up, He took the step to where one was, balanced precariously over the bowl, and shoved his dick in one's mouth and came in a quick hot burst down one's throat. It seems that table is the perfect height. Now you can go He said. Leaving one to scramble off the table in a less than graceful manner.