Date: Fri, 10 Nov 2017 01:21:15 +0000 (UTC)
From: anathema113@yahoo.com
Subject: We Couldn?t Hold It

I hated temp work, but I had to do what I had to do. I hadn't been out of
college long when I found myself unable to find a job with my bachelor's in
English, so I went straight to the temp agency to keep up with paying rent
at my new apartment.

I was placed at a model home. The former host had quit, so the property
needed me to fill in for a few weeks while they found someone permanent. As
a result, I found myself stuck day after day in the deserted office,
wearing a suit and tie, waiting for 5:00 to come so I could go home.

Since I could barely go an hour without getting a raging boner, I found
this to be a pretty good position. Since I'd found myself without anything
to do, I'd graduated from allowing myself to look at my phone once in a
while to constantly scanning Facebook, then to watching porn, then to
full-on jerking off. Cumming never took me more than a minute anyway; I'd
always had a hair trigger and felt confident that I'd be able to rub one
out without getting caught, even if someone did walk in.

I'd just started watching a piss video on Tumblr -- two guys rubbing each
other while pissing their jeans together -- and my cock was throbbing and
leaking pre-cum into my underwear when suddenly the door opened. Shocked, I
put my phone down and stood up immediately, and I said, "Good afternoon,
how can I help you?"

The other man -- young, fit, with a dazzling smile -- looked pointedly at
my pants and said, "It looks like you need more help right now than I do!"

I glanced down and felt my face get hot. My dick was rock hard and jutting
out the front of my pants. As the stranger continued to stare, I could both
feel and see it twitching, and a wet spot had started to form at the
tip. "Oh god, I'm so sorry," I exclaimed, and I started to sit down.

The man walked toward me and said, "No worries man, it's fine, I get those
too." He moved his briefcase out from in front of his pants and showed me
his own large erection. The jeans he wore with his dress shirt were pretty
heavy, but it looked like he had at least a nine-incher stuffed in
there. He reached down and gave it a few strokes. "I saw yours and it got
me started!" he said, laughing.

I gave an involuntary groan and felt my cock strain and twitch obviously
against my soft, silk boxers. "I -- uh --" I said, embarrassed. "I'm gonna
-- I mean I might --"

"Can't hold it, huh?" he asked, continuing to stroke himself slowly. By now
his own wet spot had formed, and I watched as his fingertips played lightly
with his pre-cum. "I'm not sure I can hold mine either. I'm a little
. . . premature, to tell the truth." I pictured him cumming and felt my
cock surge again. "Say, is there somewhere I can . . . take care of this?
And take a piss too? I have to go really bad."

"No," I said, almost moaning aloud. When he looked at me quizzically, I
said, "I mean, there is -- but the working bathroom is across the lot. This
one is down for repairs right now." Now I was picturing him peeing too,
which had me right on the edge.

His face started looking strained. "Well then, we might have a problem," he
said, but then his expression changed. "Wait! I have this!" He fished
inside his briefcase and pulled out an empty 24-ounce soda bottle. "I can
just use this! Sorry, hope you don't mind," he said, before pulling his
cock out of his pants. I *did* moan aloud this time and started to hump the
air involuntarily. His dick was thick and meaty with a big mushroom head,
and since he was hard, he tried to aim straight into the bottle -- and
failed. As his piss stream started, it immediately forked, and while some
went into the bottle, the rest squirted all over the brown carpet. "Shit!"
he exclaimed, fumbling around and trying to aim into the bottle, wetting
his pants and the floor and his hands in the process. He gave up then and
just peed hands-free onto the carpet, his urine drumming on the floor and
making several dark wet spots and streaks.

"Oh -- oh god!" I moaned, almost whining, as my twitching cock also gave
up. I started shooting my load right into my underwear, soaking my grey
pants with every spurt. I rubbed the outside of my pants and tweaked one of
my nipples as I surrendered to the hot rush of orgasm, spurt after spurt
making my sticky pants wetter.

My visitor, still pissing, stared at my penis pulsing and spraying. Without
a word, he walked forward and touched my jumping bulge, then started
cranking his own dick in his other hand. "Ahhh-ahh-ahhh!" he yelled,
releasing his hot load onto the front of my pants, saturating then even
more.

As I came down, I realized how badly I, too, had to pee. I almost didn't
make it in time but quickly hauled out my dick and pissed all over the
carpet, getting the same area he'd destroyed, relieving myself while
looking him straight in the eye. "That's so hot," he moaned, hand still
working his spent dick.

As my stream ended, I turned to face him and thrust forward, dribbling the
last of my pee onto his exposed cock and hand. Our dicks touched then, and
we rubbed them together lightly, sliding them around in our mutual piss and
cum.

"I'm Sean," I said. He laughed. "I'm Alan," he said. "You wanna do this
again?" I asked. He nodded. "Yeah, I really do," he said. We walked across
the deserted lot together with our dicks hanging out of our pants and
cleaned up in the sink as best we could. He had to piss again when we got
there, so I held his dick for him while he did.

After that day, we remained friends with benefits and continued to
experiment with marking our territories in public places before
masturbating each other or ourselves into our pants . . . and sometimes
meeting up with like-minded guys. But that's another story for another
time.