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Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} PISSING PRACTICE {Hungry Guy} (MF F/M WM BF Mpov Fpov Fdom Msub ws anal cheat interr)
Date: Wed,  7 May 2003 12:10:06 -0400
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{ASS} PISSING PRACTICE {Hungry Guy} (MF F/M WM BF Mpov Fpov Fdom Msub 
ws anal cheat interr} 
BY:  Hungry Guy (hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com or 
hungryguy@literotica.org)

Foreword:  This is a work of fiction.  None of the people in this 
story are real.  None of these events ever happened.  This story is 
nothing more than words that came from my imagination.  Any 
similarity to any real people, places, or events is purely 
coincidental. 

This is one of my original stories that I wrote before the Internet 
was a sparkle in Al Gore's eyes.  I just found it while rooting 
through some old floppy disks, so I cleaned up the spelling and 
grammar a little and decided to post it.  So please forgive me if it 
seems a little lame compared to my more recent stories. 

Operators of erotic story web sites, whether free or fee-based, have 
my permission to post my stories for public reading, provided that 
credit is given to "Hungry Guy" (hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com or 
hungryguy@literotica.org) as the author, and as long as you don't 
make changes other than fixing typos.  Even beware of fixing typos, 
for I occasionally use local slang and dialects that may be flagged 
by your spell checker.  Thanks.

    ###

    _*RALPH*_

    Ralph unloaded the last crate off the truck at 5:30 and checked 
his watch.  "Whoohoo!  A half hour of O-T!"  He gave the lading 
papers to the boss and punched out.  He walked across 14th street to 
the subway and stopped in front of _Edge Play,_ that new kink club 
that opened a few months ago.  He knew that he couldn't afford to 
drink in Manhattan, but he was curious.  He opened one of the plate 
glass doors and entered.  Standing in a hallway, he saw a BDSM 
bookstore on the left and a novelty store on the right.  He entered 
the novelty store and browsed around a bit.  He came to a wall full 
of novelty tee shirts with such sayings on them as, "I came on 
Eileen," and others.

    His jaw dropped when he saw what one said.  He looked for his 
size in the bin below the wall and grabbed a shirt.  The clerk came 
over to him and asked, "Can I help you?"

    "Yeah," he answered.  "I'll take this shirt, but what's a co-ed 
beer pissing contest?"

    The clerk told him what a co-ed tandem beer-pissing contest was 
while they approached the cash register.

    He checked out and headed back outside to go home with his prize.  
He took the subway down to the World Trade Center then hopped a PATH 
train home to the Jersey side.  

    Once home to his studio apartment in Newark, Ralph opened the 
package with childish anticipation and draped the shirt on his bed.  

    He nuked a frozen pizza for dinner, showered, and got ready for 
the night.  After pulling his jeans and shoes on, he donned the 
bright yellow tee shirt that read in bright red letters, 

    CO-ED TANDEM
    BEER-PISSING
    CONTEST WINNER
    SUMMER 2003
    _EDGE PLAY_

    All set, he headed back out.  He stopped for a drink at his 
regular hangout, DJ's Bar and Grill -- a "guy's hangout" where 
there's usually a ballgame on the big screen.  Not the kind of place 
you'd go to meet women, but a good start to the evening.

    DJ came over to Ralph as he sat at the bar. "Hey Ralph, what'll 
ya' have?"

    "Gimme a Guinness, DJ."

    "Comin' right up!  Say, what's with the shirt?  What the hell's a 
co-ed tandem beer-pissing contest?  You really won that?"

    "Naw!  There ain't no such thing.  I got it in some novelty shop 
at a kink club in the city.  I got it as a joke to see how people, 
well, girls react."

    "Ain't no girls in here tonight."  DJ was right, there wasn't a 
female in the place; but it was the end of footbowl season and the 
bar was filling up with guys to watch the Superball game on the big-
screen TV.

    Ralph started to watch the game, but when he saw the Giants 
bungle the first play at the start of the game he decided to bug out 
after downing his beer.  He headed down the street to Waves, the new 
place with the vibrating dance floor.

    Ralph could hear _Rammstein_ pounding the street from half a 
block away.  The place was jumping to _Mutter_ as he entered.  He 
squeezed his way up to the bar and ordered another beer.   He didn't 
recognize anyone he knew, but he did notice people giving him odd 
looks.

    He sauntered over into an opening at the shiny brass rail and 
watched the dance floor.  After a moment, he caught the eye of a girl 
leaning against the rail a little farther down.  He didn't recognize 
her, but he smiled back at her.  A moment later, she was standing 
next to him leaning against the rail.  

    He caught her eye and said, "Hi!  You're new in here.  I haven't 
seen you here before."

    "No?  I come here once in a while with my friends, but not too 
much."

    "You like to dance?"

    "Sometimes.  But what's a beer pissing contest?"

    "Well, if you don't know, then you don't want to know."

    "Oh.  Okay.  Well, if you'll excuse me, I see my boyfriend just 
coming out of the men's room.  See ya' round."

    Ralph found another spot against the rail to watch the crowd.  He 
finished his beer and met no other prospects so he decided to try 
somewhere else.

    He headed across the street to Jack's -- a mellow just-hang-out-
and-drink-and-shoot-the-bull kind of bar.

    "What'll it be, Ralph?" asked Jack.

    "I'm drinking Guinness tonight."

    "Comin' at ya!"

    Ralph moseyed over to the ancient pinball machine and shoved a 
quarter in the slot.  As he played, a couple of guys had gathered 
around to watch.  Playing intently, they didn't say anything to each 
other as Ralph racked up his score on the machine.  One of the other 
guys set a quarter on the machine.  Ralph finally ended with 102,457 
points -- not great, but not too bad either.

    "Okay, beat that!" said Ralph as he relinquished the machine to 
his challenger.

    The other guy started to play as Ralph watched.  He was watching 
as the score passed the 100,000-point mark and then noticed two girls 
on the other side of the machine looking at his shirt.  Ralph looked 
back at them and grinned.

    "Whad'ya win?" asked one of the girls.

    Ralph never though about what the prize would have been and 
answered the first thing that came into his mind. "A thousand bucks 
each."

    "But what is a co-ed beer pissing contest?" asked the other girl.

    Ralph walked around the machine up to them.  "You don't know what 
a beer pissing contest is?" Ralph asked with mock surprise.

    "No," answered both girls together.

    Ralph leaned close and whispered into one of the girls' ears.

    "Ick!  That's gross!" said the girl, making an ugly face.

    The one girl whispered to the other girl, who responded, 
"Ewwwwww!"  

    Both girls scurried away giggling and going, "Ewwwww!" together.

    Ralph left Jack's and wandered down the street, around the 
corner, then down another street for several blocks until he crossed 
some _Conrail_ tracks.  The sidewalk was gradually growing in 
disrepair, and the buildings were gradually becoming less sturdy 
looking.  He suddenly realized, with some anxiety, that he had 
wandered into the hood.

    He was about to turn back when he noticed a bar on the corner he 
was approaching.  It was a rather seedy looking windowless hole-in-
the-wall kind of place.  There were a couple of black guys leaning 
against the cracked dirty stucco wall next to the doorway.  They 
ignored him as he went inside.

    Inside, there ware a fair number of people.  It wasn't packed, 
but he was careful not to bump anybody as he walked up to the bar.  
He took a seat on one of the torn and decrepit stools and waited for 
the bartender to notice him.  

    "What'yo having, dude?" asked the bartender.

    "I'm drinking Guinness."

    "Don't got that fancy shit," the bartender said.  "How about a 
Bud?"  

    "I guess that'll work." 

    The bartender served him and then left him alone.

    Ralph looked around, trying to avoid eye contact with anybody.  
It was a mixed crowd of men and women, as you would find in most any 
bar.  He was self conscious about being the only white face in the 
place, but they seemed to be ignoring him inasmuch as people in any 
bar would ignore anybody they didn't know and who was minding his own 
business.

    He swung back around and continued drinking his beer when he 
noticed someone sit next to him.  Looking up, she was a tall slender 
black girl with long hair all in braids, and wearing tight jeans and 
a bright purple tank top over her ample curves.  Catching her eye, he 
said, "Hi!"

    "Hi yoself!  Whatchoo doin' here?"

    "Drinking this beer.  What about you?"

    "Nuthin."

    "Want a beer?"

    She just shrugged.  Ralph waved the bartender over with a dollar.  
"A beer for the lady, please."

    The bartender glanced at her, and she said, "Gimme a Dos Equis."

    Ralph leaned closer to her and whispered, "You have good taste in 
beer!"

    She just shrugged again.  Ralph started to wonder if he should 
just make a quick escape before he got into trouble; but he 
cautiously glanced around and saw that still nobody was paying him, 
or the girl, any attention.

    He looked back at her and she was reading his shirt.  "Wha's 
tha'?" she asked.

    "What's what?" asked Ralph.

    "Wha's a coo'ed beer pissing contest?"

    "Do you really want to know?"

    "Yeah!  I wan' know!"

    He leaned closer to her again. "It's where a bunch of couples, 
guys and girls, compete to see who can piss the most beer into a 
pitcher.  Each guy gets tied down on his back onto a long narrow 
padded plank and they stick a plastic pipe over his wiener and into a 
pitcher.  Each girl then sits on her guy's head with her pee-hole 
over his mouth.  She then has to chug as much beer as she can until 
he fills the pitcher.  Whichever couple fills their pitcher first is 
the winner."

    "Oh yeah," she said, "I knows this othah' bar that did that.  I 
wanted to do it, but mah las' squeeze tol' me I was a ho' fo' wanting 
to do it.  But he was a playah' so I dumped him anyways."

    Ralph scratched his chin wondering what language just spoke in.

    "How much yo' win?" she asked.

    "We each won a thousand bucks."

    "A thousand bucks!  Whoa!  Yo gonna be doing this contest again?"

    "Naw, she and I broke up and I don't have a partner for the one 
coming up."

    "There's going to be anothah' one?"

    "Yeah, they do it every month.  The next one is happening in a 
few weeks, I think."

    "Oh man, you ain't lookin' fo' a partner are ya?"

    "Well, maybe.  Are you interested?"

    "Shit, man!  Fo' a thousand bucks, yo can drink mah piss!"

    "Well, okay.  Give me your number and I'll call you a few days 
before the contest.  It'll be at _Edge Play_ in Manhattan. "

    "I ain't got no phone, sugar.  An' I ain't never heard of no 
_Edge Play."_

    Setting down his beer, "You want to come with me, then?"

    "Sho', why not?"

    Ralph finished his beer, stood, and motioned her to follow him.  
Ralph noticed a few eyes on them as they left the bar together, but 
nobody hassled them.

    They walked down the street and back across the tracks.  "By the 
way, my name's Ralph."

    "Latoya."

    They eventually arrived back at Ralph's apartment.  "Have a seat 
on the sofa, Latoya.  Want a beer?"

    "Sho."

    Ralph brought out two Guinness', opened them, sat on the sofa, 
and handed her one.

    "What's on yo mind, sugar?"

    "I thought we could practice for the contest if you want.  You've 
never seen a beer-pissing contest before, it might improve our odds.  
But it's up to you."

    "Wha?  We ca' practice here?  Now?"

    "Sure, if you want."

    "Sho, why not.  What we gotta do?"

    "Finish your beer first."

    They finished their beers and Ralph dragged something from his 
closet.  It was a 3' high, 8' long narrow padded wood table -- 
obviously homebuilt.  It was especially narrow and more thickly 
padded at one end and had two built in wooden clamp like contrivances 
at the other end and one on each side in the middle.  He also brought 
out a small plastic pitcher, a 4' long 1" diameter plastic hose, and 
a sports timer clock.  He then went into his refrigerator and brought 
out a case of Guinness.  Ralph set the beer on a table adjacent to 
the bench.

    "Okay," said Ralph after he had set up all this stuff.

    "Okay what, sugar?"

    "We, well, both undress now."

    She gave him a dry look but he started undressing and so she did 
too. When Ralph was fully naked he got up on the bench and lay down 
on his back with his arms and legs in the open blocks.

    After getting naked herself, she walked up to him.  "Do you wan' 
I should close these blocks, sugar?"

    "If you want," he answered.

    While lying on his back, he watched her as she moved over him 
along the side of the bench.  He had never done a black girl, and it 
was odd how her whole body was so -- black.  Looking up at her 
breasts from directly underneath, he saw how her nipples were darker 
black then the black of her skin.

    "Now what I should do?" she asked after she had latched all the 
shackles.

    "Take that PVC pipe and slip the 45-degree part onto my dick and 
let the long end dangle into the pitcher."

    She did so, and it gave him an erection as she handled his penis 
while slipping the pipe over it.

    "Now start the timer going then quick jump up, take aim, and 
start chugging."

    She hit the start button on the timer then walked over behind him 
standing there just beyond the top of his head as he lay there 
staring straight up at her.  Her hairy muff was hovering just inches 
from his forehead and beyond that he could see the bottom of her chin 
between the undersides of her black breasts, and into her nostrils.  
After a brief moment, her body rose up and straddled his head between 
her legs.  He barely had a second to see her bright pink slit peeking 
through her ebony skin through thick black hair as her twat came down 
directly onto his nose and mouth.  He quickly took a gulp of breath 
just before his view was totally blocked by her buttocks pressing 
down heavily on his eyelids.

    At first, the sensation was incredible.  He felt as though his 
head was being slowly crushed by a padded vice -- but it was 
exhilarating.  His mouth was open and he could feel the moist flesh 
of her twat with his tongue.

    Almost immediately, he felt a stream of hot sour rancid tasting 
fluid splash against his tongue and onto the roof of his mouth.  
_Gaaaaa!_  It was awful!  Pooling at the back of his throat, it took 
all his will power to keep from gagging.  It was quickly filling his 
mouth and so he tried to swallow it, but that only caused him to gag.

    He felt his body bucking on the bench, but being that he had 
about 100 lbs. of female flesh pressing down against his mouth and 
nose, his gagging didn't accomplish anything and he managed to 
swallow it all between gags.

    Oh, that was gross!  He also suddenly realized that he couldn't 
breathe!  His lungs were just now starting to scream to let his 
breath out to take another, but he couldn't.  The pressure of her 
buttocks and twat against his nose and mouth just made too tight a 
seal.

    He could feel her squirming on him as she chugged more beer.  It 
was starting to become painful and he started to wave his hands in 
their shackles to wave her off him.  All that happened, however, was 
the he got another mouthful of piss. 

    _Oh no!  Please!  Enough!  Get off!  Please!  PLEASE!  ENOUGH!_  
But she couldn't read his mind.  He struggled to swallow her piss 
again against the pain from his lungs.

    _*LATOYA*_

    Latoya wasn't sure about this white guy.  Here she was standing 
over him about to step forward to sit on his face.  

    The thought to herself, "After Duane lost his job because of that 
fight with that honkey boss what said, 'Welfare is just the 
gov'ment's way of keepin' us from gettin' ahead by keepin' us hooked 
on their handout,' it would feel so right to make a white guy kiss my 
ass and drink my piss!  And no there ain't nothin' he can do to stop 
me now if he changes his mind!"

    She then jumped up and forward and landed on his face with a 
_smack,_ letting her legs dangle to her sides.  

    She grabbed a beer out of the case on the table next to her and 
started chugging it.  Then another.  And another.  It wasn't long 
before she had to piss.  It took a few moments for her to relax 
herself before she could let it flow.

    "Take that, white boy!" she thought to herself as she began to 
relieve herself into him.  He immediately started thrashing and 
bucking.  She had to clamp her thighs tightly onto his head to keep 
her balance, but she continued to let her piss flow into him without 
pause until she had fully emptied her bladder.

    She took a few more chugs of this whitey's expensive beer and 
immediately felt the urge again.  She let him have it full force 
again as he bucked and thrashed.

    She continued to chug beer after beer and to relieve herself at 
frequent intervals.  But after a while, she noticed he had stopped 
thrashing every time she pissed.  "Maybe he's learned to chug my 
piss," thought Latoya as she reached over and opened another beer.

    After countless beers, Latoya just couldn't keep her balance on 
Ralph's head any longer and slid off and staggered back over to the 
sofa and went to sleep.

    She woke up some time later, threw up on the coffee table, and 
then went back to sleep.

    She threw up a few more times during the night and woke with her 
usual hangover after a night of partying.  The white boy still seemed 
to be asleep on that bench so she just quietly put her clothes back 
on and left.

    Latoya found her way back to her neighborhood and back to her 
roach infested apartment.  She immediately dove into her bed and 
slept through the rest of the afternoon.

    Later in the evening, Latoya felt well, at least better enough to 
go back down to Cleon's Cove.  It was still early when she walked in 
and the bar was fairly empty.

    "How's it goin' Latoya?" asked Cleon.

    "Shitty!  Yo seen Duane here today?"

    "Ain't seen that bro since last Tuesday."

    "Well then gimme a...  yo got any that?  I fo-get whats it called 
now.  It got's two n's and s's on it, yo know?"

    "Guinness?"

    "Yeah."  

    "Nope.  Ain't got it.  Why?  Some white dude asked for that same 
shit yesterday?  What's goin' on?"

    "Nothin.  Just gimme a Bud."

    "Sho' thing, sistah."

    Latoya hung out at the bar drinking as the evening drew on and 
the bar started filling up.

    Sensing someone standing behind her, Latoya slowly swung around 
on the barstool.

    "Duane!" she shouted

    "You bitch!  I heered yo went home las' night with a white boy!  
Wha's tha' shit!"

    "It ain't like that Duane!  I made that white boy kiss my ass 
real good!  But I didn't fuck 'im, Duane!"

    "The hell yo' didn't!"  He swung hard and slapped her across the 
face as she screamed out as the bar fell to a hush.

    She tried to back away from him, but her back was to the bar, and 
she was trapped between two of the barstools and couldn't get away.

    Duane slapped her again, and she fell to the floor between the 
barstools.

    Someone cried out from the door, "Leave her alone, you bastard!"

    She looked up at where the voice was coming from.  "Ralph!  Help 
me!"

    She watched Duane pull out a knife and rush at Ralph.

    Ralph jumped away into a table, knocking it over.

    "I'll kill you fo' messin' wi' ma' woman honkey!" shouted Duane 
as he rushed at Ralph again.  Duane knocked Ralph down as both of 
them rolled to the floor in a scuffle.

    "Aaaaah!" shouted Duane as he scrambled away from the fight 
rubbing his eyes. "Aaaah! Aaaah! Aaaaa!" he repeated over and over as 
he staggered around the room.

    Ralph was sitting there under the table with a small spray can in 
his bloody hand, gouged where Duane had stabbed him with the knife.

    Nobody else in the bar went to help either of them.

    Latoya crawled over to where Ralph knelt, "Oh sugar, that looks 
bad!  Let's get outta' here and I'll fix ya' up."

    Leaning on Latoya, Ralph stood and they started to leave the bar 
together.

    "Hold it!" shouted Duane, standing there still rubbing his eyes.

    "She ain't going with you, honkey!" Duane shouted.  "Woman!  Get 
yo'self over here to yo man!"

    Ralph met Duane's eye again.  "It's _her_ choice who she wants to 
go with!  Our fighting doesn't matter.  Don't you understand that?"

    Duane started to stagger toward them, the effect of the pepper 
spray not having fully worn off yet.  Ralph raised the can back up, 
pointing it back at Duane.  Duane stopped.

    Ralph said to Latoya, "Just say who you want to go with and I'll 
respect your decision."

    "I don'no what yo talkin' bout sugar, les' jus' get outta' here 
so I's can fix you up before you'se bleed to death!"

    Ralph and Latoya backed out of the bar and hurried to Ralph's 
apartment. She wrapped his knife wound with gauze, helped him undress 
and led him to bed.  She undressed herself and got in bed with him.

    "So where'd you go this morning, Latoya?  I passed out last night 
-- nearly suffocated actually.  Then when I woke in the morning, you 
were gone but you left me shackled to the bench."

    "Sorry 'bout that, sugar.  But I was so wasted last night, I 
didn't know nuthin'."

    Ralph reached over and put his hand on her arm.  "Then next time, 
I guess we should leave the shackles off."

    "What next time?  I ain't doin' that again.  Not to my main 
squeeze hero, I ain't!"

    Ralph looked down and pulled his hand away.

    She reached out and touched him, "Oh, you'se gon' go down on me 
lots'a times befo' we's done, but none of that pissin' shit or being 
tied up!  We's just gon' fuck the ol' fashioned way, sugar."

    They did.

    - END -

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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