Date: Tue, 28 Apr 2020 08:35:57 -0400
From: Brad Gibbons <thepatternking@gmail.com>
Subject: "Floorpissing" Sixth Installment: The Floorpiss Club 1

"FLOORPISSING": THE FLOORPISS CLUB - PART 1
by BadBoyKal

If you enjoy this story, let me know! Your emails are the only way I'll
ever know that anybody's so much as read these things... And I think
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it afloat, if you have the means to help.

It was time for an official outing for the Floorpiss Club - thus was called
a confederacy of four friends joined together in opposition to dry
bathrooms everywhere. They did the best they could to meet at minimum once
a week (and usually the members saw action individually every week
too... there was no upper limit to the fun each boy could have!). The
buddies were all 16 years old, students at A. Woody High School. They
didn't live too close together, but that was okay: Calvin had a car (and a
license!) which the Club used to get to their outings.

The boys were Steven, Nicky, Calvin, and James; the last three were all on
the soccer team (and Steven had been last school year) - the team had
gotten all of them acquainted - and the "mysterious puddles" they noticed
in the locker room - and especially in the restrooms of their away games -
made them eventually figure out their shared love of floorpissing. Until
they created Floorpiss Club, not a one of them had done a floorpiss with
another boy! (little brothers excepted)! It could be way hotter, they
realized... It amped up the fun 'cause it makes floorpissing clearly a
game, and in doing so cuts off all the anxiety which a solo run might
make. (You're not gonna be worrying about getting 'caught when you got
three brothers at your back who are all 100% as committed as you are!)
Lastly, as a Club the boys could split up and usually cover the "whole
territory" in one single round!

Take today, for instance. It was Stepven's turn to be captain - the four
huddled outside Calvin's car as their leader shared his plan. "Okay--Nicky:
I want you to take just the big open space--not between the urinals and
shitters, just the 'main floor'." Nicky smiled broadly, his wolfish green
eyes flashing brightly. "Oh, and, uh, play as much as you want with the
counters and sinks and all, too.

James, you're gonna start at the wall next to urinal 1 and cover from that
area, across the floor and into stall 1." The serious, black-haired, tall,
bespectabled youth Club member piped up with a "Roger."

"Calvin, you're gonna take urinals 2-4 and the walls and floor that go with
that space, too. The smallest of the Club members in a dark blue Simpsons
T-shirt and khaki cargo pants, Calvin gave a curt nod and say "I can manage
that," his dirty-blond hair with its cowlick right at front catching
Steven's attention as he gave acknowledgement.

"Now, this isn't a particularly tight mission. You all know your
territory--feel free to cover it in any way you like, and there's no need
to sweat it even if you choose to only cover part of it. Alright! Any
questions?" Tall, athletic Steven, in a dark-sleeved T-shirt and green &
black basketball shorts, looked each boy in the eye one more time before
breaking the huddle. Mirth shone back in every member's eyes: this was
gonna be fun, and they knew it, and were wholly ready to ace their
captain's plan.

As the four started walked bathroomward, spreading out a bit, Nicky
suddenly realized there'd been something Steven forgot. "Wait, Steven, hold
up! You didn't tell us the obstruction reaction plan!"

"Shit!" interjected young Calvin. "How'd we miss that?" Obstruction
reaction was the Club's parlance for how to handle interlopers - boys, men,
and even janitors, who might be in the bathroom when the mission began, or
enter it before they'd made getaway.

"Right: obstruction reaction. Obstruction reaction for this mission is:
continue full steam ahead." Nicky only smiled broader at this, while Calvin
faltered a bit (getting caught was not his favorite thing, by any
means--but he'd do what the Club demanded); there was nothing to be read
from James' expression.

The location chosen for this mission was Berryby Park's bathrooms; it was a
pretty typical, above all low-risk, target. (Unlike, say, the mall, which
has its own security, a public park was a place you'd not expect to get in
trouble for floorpissing at--even, to be honest, if you got caught! These
shitty bathrooms had seen their fair share of floorpissers over the years,
and if you were exceptionally lucky, you might even see the evidence of
another dude's work already decorating floor and walls!) This was one of
the city's smallest parks, taking up one block of a residential
neighborhood. It boasted an open field of grass, a brightly-colored jungle
gym (with a bathroom building, housing both men's and women's restrooms,
set back from it and to the side), and three large old oak trees. (This is
the same park featured in"Dean and Zach" and "Zach and Peter," if you've
read these previous "Floorpissing" chapters.)

Today there were rather a lot of children playing on the jungle gym--by the
looks of it, eight or ten. A smart-looking black-haired man in his forties
sat on a bench using a tablet; a young mom said on another, watching her
children on the jungle gym and keeping company to a baby in its
stroller. No further adults could be seen, which the boys took as a good
sign (correction: *those averse to getting caught* called it a good
sign. ;).

The park being so small, in no time the four mischief-making pals reached
Ground Zero of the Floorpiss Club's mission of the day. The men's bathroom
was on the right side of the building, and its door was just right of
center of it. Inside, it gave way to a broad open area; opposite it were
the three sinks, set in a whitish counter; the left wall held two
paper-towel dispensers. On the same wall as the door were the four urinals
(which all were quite satisfied to know would not be receiving even the
slightest drop of their combined four bladders'-full), and, across from
these, three stalls (these of rusty brown-coated metal, the walls of which
left a gap at the bottom, as one would expect). The floor was crude
concrete--it was the sort that, when it got wet, changed color from a
lightish gray to a very dark one (you'd even say "brown") when it was
wet. The walls were of cinderblocks mauve in color, which also partook of a
color change (this bit was unusual and fun, and a real plus of this
location)... the boys all approached the place hoping to take advantage of
it.

It could be more fun to piss down bathrooms that was more upscale, to be
sure—big stores, the mall, restaurants—but there was
a certain excitement in hitting shitty ones like this. That color changes
heightened the stakes: in light of it, it wouldn't be possible for anyone
who came in and saw their work to miss what they had done.

There was no talking as the boys filed into the room: all of them knew what
to do. They'd not been paid any mind, but if an onlooker had seen them file
one-by-one in through that door, it'd not be surprising at all if they'd
correctly guessed that they were up to no good/on a mission. (There was a
notable sense of purpose in their strides... also, there was the fact that
the guys were far to old to be going into the bathroom together just to
keep each other company!)

James was first inside; then, Nicky and Calvin; Steven brought up the
rear. As each entered and reconnoitered, he was immediately struck with an
important fact: the door to stall 3 was shut, and some thin (child-sized)
legs could be seen underneath it! James smiled in obvious enjoyment at this
twist--Nicky's smile grew naughtier--Calvin got a bit tense--Steven's face
showed no emotion but determination. So, they'd have an audience (of
sorts)! Who knew how it'd turn out... would he exit the stall before they'd
finish? Would he join them? Who could say!

Nobody broke a stride, though. Stephen spoke low but clearly as he moved
toward the end of the stalls: "Calvin, I might share your territory a bit
since stall 3 is occupied." "Okay" the latter said.

And, they're off! Each boy unzipped the fly on his shorts, unbuttoned them,
and undid his belt (the exception being James, who skipped that part and
reached directly for his cock through his underwear's hole)

"Okay, boys," Steven said loudly. "ONE... TWO... THREE!"

Out of four young teenage penises, yellow liquid started flowing.

Nicky began in the middle of the room, facing the sinks. He arched his
stream high, reaching as high as his breast, raining piss on the floor. He
moved steadily forward toward the counter: His enjoyment was evident and
his face intense. Just as he got to the counter he heard out a
shout--apparently from the twelve-year-old bathroom companion. "Wha-what
are you doing? You can't just pee all over the place! Why are you doing
that?"

He simply ignored this and got to the part of his territory he'd most
looked forward to. Bearing down with all of his might and thrusting his
hips forward to elevate his cock, Nicky's dark-yellow stream shot up onto
the counter! He blasted some off to the right and then walked along the
counter to the left, leaving it splattered and splotched with a liquid
which any passerby'd immediately know was piss. At this point the
twelve-year-old was saying "Stop it! I'm gonna tell my mom on you."

"Is your Mom at the park?" Asked James.

"No, but... I'm gonna run home."

"Well go ahead and run, then---faggot." 'Twas Calvin that'd spoke
this---surprising the others who all knew he hated floorpisses with
interlopers.

Nicky, meanwhile, finished coating the counter and moved onto the wall
where the paper-towel-dispensers were. His stream moved lightly, quickly
across the wall till he reached the first paper-towel-dispenser, beneath
which again he bore down with all his might... His stream shot considerably
higher, indeed, but fell just five or six inches shy of hitting the
paper. "Darn it," the beautiful boy said under his breath. He'd been so
looking forward to that part! Wetting paper was SOO SO hot!

Nothing to do about it, though. With the rest of his tank, he first
dribbled onto the wall some more, then turned away from the wall to his
left to spill the remainder of his bladder on the open floor not far from
the puddle'd he'd made starting his piss.

Calvin's assignment was urinals 2-4. He began his floorpiss stading in
front of urinal 2 with his back to it. It turned him on to be facing out
like this, so anyone (even his pissing brothers!) could see his cock and
stream. <Left, right, left, right> Calvin waddled and swung his tiny
fair-skinned penis as he sprayed the floor all around. They he steered a
wide right-hand turn, leaving a single line of piss that arched out to
graze the wall on the far side of urinal 4. During a brief moment doing
zig-zags on the wall, the boy made his threat to tell on them. Calvin
clenched up inside--almost, he stopped pissing! but he checked himself and
went on. That was when James asked the boy if his mom were there, and the
boy said no. "Oh, thank God" Calvin said under his breath: and he was very
truly relieved---so much so that he felt up to calling the kid a faggot
when he threatened run home.

He finished his piss by marking the actual titular element of his
territory: he pissed between the urinals, against the walls, on both sides
of all urinals 2-4. It had been a big piss-load, and he'd spent it well.

Steven had arguably the most interesting job that day, because included in
his territory was an occupied stall. He took his own declaration of a "full
steam ahead" obstruction reaction very seriously... this meant he should
make every reasonable effort to mess up stall 3, despite the kid inside
it. The kid wasn't gonna like it... You can bet Steven was, though! He'd
never had a situation quite like this one when he was floorpissing... it'd
be interesting for sure.

He'd been planning on starting in stall three and getting it real good -
all floorspace, all four walls, and (most especially) the toilet
paper--before doing the same to stall 2. That'd take care of his whole
bladderfull if he did it real throughly. Now that they were there and saw
stall 3 was occupied, sadly his fun would be mostly confined to stall
two. Well, *mostly*... but not all! He'd a deliciously naughty idea: He was
gonna get as much piss into stall 3 as he could, and screw the little
faggot taking a shit.

So he started on stall 3, as he'd planned. He got the corner where the
stall-post met the wall, then he pissed right into the crack on the side of
the stall door! He back up to lengthen the arch of his stream, maximizing
how much passed UNDER the stall door and into the stall. (It was at this
point that the kid'd began yelling.) To the other door-crack next (and
Steven was really amused to see that quite a bit of piss was spraying
through the crack, toward the occupant whom Steven could see on the toilet
yelling at him right then. Steven merely smiled.

Onto stall 2. He'd used more piss than he'd expected on stall 3, so he
wanted to do 2 by order-of-precedence. Most important: Getting his teenage
boy urine to soak all into all the toilet paper rolls, ruining them and
leaving a nice memento back for the next guy ;). There were THREE rolls
out! His lucky day. Quickly he sprayed all three in one swoop; then he got
closer to them and held his cock a mere two inches from one, simply pissing
several seconds letting the liquid really SOAK IN DEEP. Such fun was this
toilet-paper destruction, he took great pleasure in repeat this for each of
the other two, just about nearly exhausting his piss supply! There was a
little bit more, though, and his second-priority target was clear: get more
into stall 3! Waving dick left and right, the cute teenage redhead pissed
as much as he could under the partition, after that simply exhausting his
bladder into that puddle he'd just made 'tween the stalls, in the hopes
that it might grow and spread even more. Confident and satisfied, Steven
shook off his dick and zipped up.

James began against the wall to the right of urinal 1. After creating a
pretty cascade of his urine down it, the quiet black-haired teen did a wide
sweeping turn into the open space of the room (technically Nicky's
territory, but the other Club member'd forgive him--all in fun). Then he
headed toward stall 1, slowly waddling toward it and shaking his dark,
delicious, ample penis sweepingly UP and DOWN, creating spray patterns on
the floor as he got to the stall. The allure of the toilet paper couldn't
be overstated, but unlike Steven, he was going to save the best for
last. (James was very thankful, at times like these, that his bladder was
especially large.)

So our well-respected smart, good-natured buddy sprayed first onto the
toilet seat— liked to get that, just to make sure to annoy
anyone who might wish to sit down on it. Then he turned around and got the
door... then followed the wall on the right of the stall to the
back... swooped across the floor cutting in front of the toilet, and
finally set in upon the toilet paper, still doing pretty good on his piss
level. Being taller, the tops of the toilet paper rolls were actually right
at cock level; the fun thing James decided to do was to just rest his cock
right on top of the middle one, let go ot his dick and just piss
away. (James was a very quiet, obedient, intelligent, and well-behaved
kid... no one at school would have every dreamed this was how he was
spending his free time. But, what could James say? It was crazy fun, and
sexy! His floorpissing brothers, then, knew him at a depth that no one else
in his life did.)

James' lazy spraying-splashing on the tops of the wholly-exposed TP rolls
felt so relaxing and luxurious; no worries were there about doing a good
job, getting caught, or anything else... he calmly expelled the piss which
splayed across the paper surface, before gushing giddilly off the back of
the rolls and down the wall to the floor, splashing.

Nicky and Steven, when they finished, zipped up; Calvin and James, by
contrast, stood in the middle of their territories facing the urinals,
penises out and stroking. Calvin was already hard, from the time when he'd
finished his piss (and calling the dumb kid a faggot had been a fun move,
as well;) and James was quickly raising his mast. Calvin reached over and
grabbed James' penis; James took the cue, dropped his hand from his own
member and took up his Clubmate's in his fist instead.  Steven finished and
came out to join them; he nodded approvingly at his good friends' stroking
and started to survey their Floorpiss Club's work. He wandered, taking it
in in all the different areas of the bathroom. Calvin and James (plenty
turned on from their actions, of course) had decided unspeakingly that they
were gonna go ahead and get off. As Steven started looking at his area,
Nicky was finally finishing up and putting 'is junk away.

Just then the sound could be heard of the boy in stall 3 wiping quickly and
feverishly before flushing. Suddenly he was done; he yanked up his pants
quick as he could before stomping his way out of the stall, onto the floor
all covered in piss. He'd clearly been planning to yell something, and had
struggled to get out of the stall before the mischievers went away.  What
he saw was two sixteen-year-old boys stroking one another, though, and the
blood rushed to his head so quick he felt woozy! He stammered and couldn't
find anything to say. He blushed without, but the Club members could see
it. Nicky, who stood leaning against the doorpost of stall 1, full
nonchalant with his hands in his pockets, floated out "Uh, you okay there,
kid? The young guy was really turned on, and not sure what to do, nor how
to act/react to this. "I, um..." His eyes skittered between taking in the
cocks straight on, and looking away literally anywhere else, in
embarrassment and anxiety. (If at first the blood'd rushed to his head, now
it seemed to be rushing somewhere else!)

James was a comforting presence, despite the 7-inch monster---hard as a
rock---he was rockin' out. He addressed the boy: "Hey, kid... can you cum
yet?"

The young boy looked even more embarrassed, but in reponding, he looked
straight at James unfaltering. "Yes," he responded shyly.

"Wanna join us?" said the older teen.

"S-seriously?" the kid stuttered, half incredulous and yet also quite
clearly excited. His head was awash with new, un-understood feelings and
thoughts, but suddenly it was crystal clear to him that, yes, he should go
along with what James was offering. Already his cock was cooperating.

He walked slowly over to James and Calvin, still with each other's meat in
hand. He stood across from them; they turned slightly towards each other so
that all three, spread out, were facing each other. The kid reached for his
belt falteringly, full of both fear and excitement. When he got belt, snap,
and zipper undone, he let his shorts drop (figuring he may as well do as
Calvin had---James, by contrast, stood legs spread apart to hold shorts
up.)What remained were dark grey tightie-whiteys, protruding out at the top
with a 4-inch bulge that was in no way unimpressive for a boy of his size.

It seemed he'd gotten stuck at that step; "Go on," nudged James,
endearingly. "...okay." the boy replied.

Using both hands he carefully brought his underwear's waistband out over
his hard cock, bringing them down past his balls and wriggling them to down
below his butt in back, before letting them be, giving full space and
majesty to his post-child penis. Its skin was brown, its foreskin was
intact, and it curvely cutely (hotly) to the right.

"Okay." said James. "Now, here's what we're gonna do: I'm gonna jack you
off, you're gonna jack Calvin off, and Calvin's gonna jack me off. Okay?"

The wiry kid---one "Samson" (born to a couple of religious nuts)
nodded. James immediately reached for the boycock, and young Samson felt a
luscious tremor unlike anything he'd felt from touching himself. Half
stuporific from this pleasure, he went ahead and reached out in front of
him to put his hand around Calvin's cock. (The which was 5-and-a-quarter
inches, sort of stubby, thick enough that the young guy's hand barely fit
around it... pink and throbbing.) Never before had he touched another boy's
penis--and he had not supposed that when he did for the first time, it
would belong to a ...he had to say... "badass" highschooler he didn't know
but who was obviously way cooler than him, and who had just, for some
reason he still didn't understand, peed all over the place in the bathroom
at the park! (He'd been mad (from embarrassment) to've gotten stranded in a
room-wide flash flood of boy-piss, but now that he'd seen the perps for
himself, it was hard not to be cowed by their teenage caché.)

For what must've been several minutes the three boys stroked around their
little circle, their breath bated with the occasional deep
exhalation. Nicky and Steven simply loitered and watched; rather soon
Steven's hand was thrust into his shorts, but no one noticed.

Calvin shifted his weight, eyes closed in pleasure. "Oh, yeah---that's it,
kiddo! Beat my fuckin' meat!" Samson's dick jolted just a little harder at
the teen's hot profanity; he'd never heard "beat your meat," but he didn't
think he had to ask what it meant. He was clearly preoccupied by the
sensations in his knob: James' rough, large fingers touched it gingerly,
and there was something so right about how wrong it felt. He gawked at
James 7-incher (which even then was oozing out a drop of pre-cum) and to
his pubescent mind there shone in a curious sensation as if of being held
warmly and strongly.

He was pulled back from this enthrallment, though---he had started to get
close, and wasn't sure what to do about it. From James' wang Samson raised
his eyes to the teen's eyes, which were already meeting his. "I--" he said
awkwardly, "whadoo I do if I'm going to cum?"

"You fucking cum, kid!" Calvin cut in, eyes still closed; James shrugged at
the cute kid with his eyes.

Samson hadn't thought he wanted to do anything like these boys had done
with their piss, but apparently he would be leaving his *own* mess behind
on the ground. Maybe he would wipe it up, he thought... then he realized
that meant that the little spot in the middle of them would soon be
splattered with THREE loads of teen cum! --Oh, God---that was it! "I'm
cummin'!" hollered Samson. As he did his tool spasmed in James' hand (who
continued to pump it), and gummy yummy cum shot out four inches, then three
inches, then one-- and after that four more volleys glubbed out right into
the palm of James hand! Samsom would be embarrassed by that, he realized,
if he didn't feel so fucking amazing.

As he started to return from the point of being totally blissed out,
becoming once more present to reality, Samson noticed two things
that—despite his having JUST cummed then—started
jolting his boy-cock back to full hardness already. The first thing was the
sight of his cum on the floor. He felt SOO naughty! Heck, cumming on the
floor was even more hot and risky than pissing on it, 'cause one could
often mistake piss for water from faulty plumbing, but... cum was cum!

The second thing was the hottest thing that James did. After his orgasm
subsided and he stopped stroking Samson's tool, James silently brought his
jizz-covered hand up to his mouth and started SLURPing it up! The older,
dark, quiet teen sucked it all right up through his lips in a split second!
Samson felt a brand new feeling then: a weak, unsteady feeling in his
stomach, accompanied by a blissful all-encompassing adoration for the older
boy.

He was jolted back, however, by Calvin, who now was looking at him. "Hey,
kid, you're forgetting something." Samson's hand on his cock had stopped
moving. "Oh-- sorry," Samson said (and he meant it); he started back up on
Calvin with some long, slow, purposeful strokes. "Ah... that's better"
Calvin said, as he relaxed.

Steven had been watching the wanking trio intensely; he noticed that,
although Samson's hand was on Calvin's wide penis, his eyes were glued to
James practically nonstop. He'd flash his gaze up at James' face, and then
rest it once more on the log sprouting out from his legs. Now, there was
nothing wrong with the picture so far, but what if they could make it a
little better yet for the little guy? --Make up for ruining his dump?

"Hey, James," said Steven. "Why don't you let the little guy have a go at
you, too?"

James raised his eyebrows "Sure!" he said affably. "Shall we switch
directions, then, or...?"

"It's okay, man. I'll finish myself." Calvin said as he released James'
penis to envelope his own in his right hand. A second later Samson had the
pleasure of seeing him crudely spit in his hand, adding lube.

But little Samson paid Calvin little heed—in fact, it seemed his
world had been reduced down to just one person, James, and the glory of
that one person's third leg.

Indeed it was as glorious as they come! It was stout and
strong—Samson thought he could probably hang from it like a
pull-up bar! Its seven inches began quite thick at the bottom, and tapered
slightly along the shaft, likening it to an obelisk. It had a wonderful
shiny but compact mushroom head. It protruded from the boy perhaps just ten
degrees upward of horizontal.  For Samson, touching this glory was a
sacrament. He had turned his body more to face James and had reached out
with his right hand So warm, and alive-feeling, and animal-like! Gripping
it at his base, Samson was giddy to discover that his hand would not quite
fit all the way around. Without even thinking, the younger boy took a step
and a half closer to the boy and the cock that had him thrillin'. Gingerly
he cupped James' balls with his left hand... the shrivelled sac hung three
or four inches down from his shaft, lower than Samson had supposed
possible—and the balls! Why, they had to be almost as big as
walnuts! Samson played with his balls, bouncing them around from finger to
finger as his right hand cautiously but excitedly began to stroke that
excellent display of man-meat. He went up and down on the shaft several
times before daring to touch its head; he grabbed the shiny knob smack in
the middle of his hand and felt all over, soon happening to rub the glans
round and round against his palm. "Uuuh!" said the teen to this; he'd
ceased to watch the preteen boy and had closed his eyes—that
sudden low moan came as though from one comatose. The little lad kept it
up, and filled with a warm quiet pleasure and pride at the knowledge that
he was making his crush feel good.

Leaving the balls, then, Samson attacked the cock before him with both
hands: continuing to get the cockhead with his right hand, while making
long strokes up and down the shaft with his left.

Just then there came a sexy distraction from the "hands-on" "manual labor"
Samson'd set himself to. Three feet (at most) from Samson, Calvin was
starting to make little moans, louder and louder, high and higher:
"uh... uhh... uhhh... UH... UHH... UHHHH!" clearly, he was on the verge of
shooting his jizz. Now, Samson wouldn't dream of stopping his top-notch
manual work on 16-year-old he'd taken a fancy to... but he was also still
AWFUL curious to see Calvin jizz. After all, he had still, as of then,
never seen any penis but his own "bust a nut." Calvin had his head tilted
back, eyes shut and face all scrunched up, right hand rigid as he
jacked. The sophomore was bucking his hips back and forward, half jacking,
half fucking his own right fist. Just when his vocalizations reached full
volume—a triumphant shout—semen *tore* from the
dude's fuckstick's piss slight, painting the floor with sprawling messy
splashes that (unlike Samson's) really filled out the floor in front of
him, adding to the "graffiti" that the younger boy had shot a few minutes
before. Again, Samson felt the rush of pride at how hot was what he had
contributed to. Cum at all was hot enough, but cum *on the floor* *in a
public bathroom* with four older dudes? Samson's cock, which he hadn't put
up, had gone slightly down for merely a moment—at that moment it
filled back out to full-sized.

Steven, still watching from the side with one hand conspicuously missing,
called out (to Calvin): "FUCK, YEAH, bro! Man, Calvin, that was a helluva
cumshot. FUCK yeah, dude... you about to set me off next!" Suddenly,
quickly, Steven ripped open his pants, yanked down the front of his boxers,
and continued for all the boys to see what he'd started with just one hand
in his pants. "Uh—I'm so close!" Samson really couldn't believe
his luck! His hotness meter had simply busted at that point! Before he knew
it he was watching his second sixteen-year-old's cumshot, to the soundtrack
of (Stephen's) "oh, yeah! Oh, fuck! That feels so good... yeah,
fuckin'—take—all—that nut, you grimey-ass
floorpisser's paradise floor!"

James had turned his head to watch Steven nut, and he called out in
encouragement: "Dude, that is so flippin' HOT! That floor was MADE to wear
your nut on it, bro!—way to show it who's boss!" Stephen's cum
splotches were not quite as far-flung as Calvin's, but still very
impressive (this second older boy making clearly also much more cum that
what Samson had shot). Steven's load was a thicker, darker white than any
of the other cum load's Samson'd seen, and formed knotted shapes
reminiscent of boogers.

Well, fuck, all this cumming made the young dude think it was high time he
got James off. He took both hands and alternated—Right, Left;
Right, Left, stroking the monster cock firmly from cockhead to base in the
dark-brown, almost-black jungle of the teen's pubic bush. Apparently he was
doing something right, 'cause James cried
"OH—FUCKIN'—YEAH, little buddy! Stroke that cock, oh,
yeah—just like that." Something about hearing the soft-spoken,
stoic-seeming James talk like that drove Samson WILD. He kept it up, as
fast and as hard as he could manage.

"I'M STARTIN' TO GET THERE!" hollered James. Samson noticed he had started
holding his break and biting his lip in anticipation. He focussed ALL he
had on that cock.

"Oh, yeah! Almost there! Here we go!"—And suddenly, it was upon
him! The super-sized dick glubbed forth a whole stream of semen, not
shooting in separate shots but burbling out in one continuous rolling
enjaculation! To the side of Calvin's jizz art was added Jame's
contribution: A circle three or four inches across that was nearly covered
in gooey milky splotches. Of course Samson now was the position James had
been: having jacked off the latter, he discovered himself lucky enough to
have gotten thick streaks of cum on the backs of both of his
hands. Samson'd never tried cum before, not even his own. But he knew this
was the time he wanted to start! He started with his right hand, admiring
it before—why, YES, he was really doing it!—lifting
his hand to his mouth and licking the thick gobbet of boy-sperm off. It had
the funniest taste, but Samson knew in that moment that this would be only
the first of many, many times that he'd be eating sperm (from somebody or
other)! He took his time, really savoring the taste, with his left.

James was coming back down to earth, starting to breathe more deeply again;
his eyelids were heavy with relaxation, and he watched the young boy with
affection. "My cum's not half bad, is it, kid?" The two smiled so broad it
seemed they'd split their faces, and James ruffled his hand through
Samson's hair.

With that, Calvin, Steven, and James all put their cocks away and zipped
up. Samson hesitated, because he really had to get off again... he decided
with what he supposed to be a teen-age level of nonchalance and flippancy
to just leave his pants down, cock OUT, for the time being. The only one
who hadn't gotten off was Nicky, who at this point had a noticeable bulge
in his blue basketball shorts, and had taking to rubbing the end of it back
and forth in his right palm. "Guys, uh... I think I need to get off."

Steven quipped back: "Well of course you need to bloody well get off! We
just did a floorpiss as good as any we've ever done, and you just watched
four other guys bust their nuts, and we know you're not gay, but there's
not a teenage guy in the whole city who wouldn't needa get off after
everything that's just happened."

"Sheesh, I'm just saying!" replied Nicky.

"Well, go ahead and do it, but make it quick" was Steven's (their leader's)
reply. With that the black-haired green-eyed gorgeous teen boy flopped his
dick all at once out from his elastic-banded shorts, leaving them to hang
between his thighs; he walked straight to the place where the trio had so
recently deposited their loads before—to Samson's confusion and
Steven's bemusement (at the "straight" teen)—bending down and
scooping up as much of the cum as he could in one go, and hobbling over to
the exterior wall of stall 1. Samson's confusion was evident as he watched
Nicky. "Lubricant," said the teen. When this still didn't clear up his
expression, "Cum is slimy, slick. It feels better and you can jack faster
with lube." He turned again to the partition wall: When Nicky decided to
cum, it wouldn't be willy-nilly; cum placement mattered as much to him as
piss placement, and he was eager to see it decorating that divider and
running slowly down as he left. Everyone was waiting on him, and they
really ought to be leaving the "crime-scene" at this point, so Nicky set
himself up for the kind of quick hard jerk that boys his age are quite
likely to pop out left and right, given the chance.

Leaning on the stall wall on his left forearm, left hand in a fist, face
screwed up, fist round 6-inch, slender, uncut tool, the teenager made fast
work of it. Before they knew it was "UH! UH! UH! UH!" and "OH, YEAH!" The
solid slab o' man meat spasmed and shot long, arching, pretty, glancing
projectiles of semen against the wall. He immediately opened his eyes,
admiring his work. "Yeah, that's how I like it!" and feigned taking a
picture of the cumscape with his fingers.

"Okay, kid!" Steven said to Samson. "It's a pleasure to have met you, and
we're sorry to have disrupted your shit. But, well, hopefully it all worked
out satisfactorily to you. As for us, we achieved our mission: We've all
pissed, now we've all come, and it's time for us to go on to bigger and
better things, so to speak. You're, of course, free to play with your cock
or whatever else you wanna do for as long as you see fit, just,
uh—be careful not to get caught. Adiós, amigo!"

All that was left was one final goodbye. James approached Samson and held
out his hand. "My name's James," he said.

"I'm Samson." Dropping Samson's hand, James playfully grabbed the younger
boy's cock and tugged it around a few times: Again, both smiled. "Will I
ever see you again?" Samson floated out, feeling quite vulnerable and not
having any idea what the answer would be.

"I hope so," said James. "You might see us here, although it'll be quite a
while before we hit up this same spot again... for floorpissing, I
mean. But, uh... well, I actually decided I wanna give you my number. We
get along well. We could have some good times ahead. I'm not saying I would
*date* you or anything, but, just... well, it's worth it I think to stay in
touch with people you click with. And we certainly clicked today."

Samson was so relieved. James turned to his comrades. "Who's got a pen? And
something to write with?"

"Gotcha on the pen" Steven said.

"Here—an old receipt" said Nicky.

In no time, the connection was made, and James hugged Samson goodbye,
enjoying the way the boy's boner pushed against his calves as he did
so. With that, the foursome was off.

Samson was then left alone in the piss-soaked and cum-bedecked
bathroom. Since he was now alone, he suddenly was thinking much more about
the possibility of getting caught like that, so he decided to go back into
stall 3 in order to get his rocks off the second time. But he decided to
take Nicky's advice first. Ignoring the thoughts of "Nasty!," Samson
reached down to the thick circle of James' cum, and scooped a whole handful
of it. Then he quickly shuffled into the stall and locked the door, only
then really pausing to feel the cum in his hand. "This is SO HOT!" was his
only thought; without further ado he wrapped his slimy right hand 'round
his lizard, and he gasped at the cool silkiness produced by James' cum as a
"lubricant." It was so slimy that he had to grip much harder to get the
proper traction, but when he made that adjustment, it was so delightful he
nearly came right away.

Half a thought he gave, as he "jerked," to where he would cum that
time. Between opposing considerations for safety (not getting caught) and
fun/hotness (making a mess), the pre-teen decided he'd scoot all the way to
the front of the stall, get as close as he could to the door, and try to
shoot against it, like Nicky had done. Before he knew it, it was time! Just
before he cummed, he allowed himself a triumphal, nasal moan, before the
electricity surged through his body, and his cock spasmed, and he shot five
volleys of the white stuff, all right against the door. It looked like
snot, he thought, as it dripped slowly down.

And now Samson had to pee. He had never before thought of standing in a
public restroom and peeing anywhere he liked (save in the toilet), and even
twenty minutes or so ago he'd been very angry at the from-every-side
assault sustained against the dignity (and dryness) of his public-bathroom
poop. But all the sexiness that'd just occurred had the little guy
rethinking his initial reaction. He couldn't help think of all four of
those boys as very cool, and as something to look up to. He was glad they'd
allowed him to take part in their fun, and since they had he felt a certain
allegiance to them. And, if this "floorpissing" was what brought *them*
together—and clearly, they liked it enough to do it OVER and
OVER and OVER again—well, there had to be something to it,
Samson figured... and he was curious.

The young dude took stock of his situation. He wanted to see if it would be
fun to pee (or "piss," as older boys tended to say) around like the older
boys had done; so long as no one caught him literally in the act, he had
great plausible deniability: The whole place was already soaked from top to
bottom with the piss expelled from four teenage friends' cocks, leaving
nearly all the floor the brown of wet concrete—wet such as no
one would notice a little more wet.

Samson was feeling brave. He didn't want to cower in that stall and make a
small cursory mess there: He wanted to stand beyond in the bathroom,
running the risk of detection as he swept his pee-stream widely and wildly
across the floor!

His cock was now mostly soft. He decided not even to put it away. He wanted
to get out of the stall back into the main part of the room, and
dare-devilshly risk detection. But he could start in the stall, which was
essentially the only dry spot left in the place. He hoisted up his shorts
to walk more easily, and held his cock with the same hand; then he reached
forward with his left hand to unlock the door, and pulled it toward him.

<Here goes nothin',> he thought. Thus, standing in the middle of the third
stall, Samson began his first floorpiss. He bore down on his bladder, and
found it was hard to get going from the adrenaline. He just kept pushing,
though, and waiting, until finally, victoriously, a pale yellow stream like
from a super-soaker lashed far out from him. God, he must be pissing easily
four feet ahead! Astonishment—pride—turn-on! A puddle
was forming very, very quickly, and Samson found to his excitement that the
sound made by pissing in a puddle's subtly different than that made by
pissing in a toilet. Emboldened, he walked forward, fully out of the
stall. He was having the time of his life.

Samson suddenly started to laugh out loud! There was something so absurd
and silly about what he was doing, walked one step and then another, all
the while propelling this long projectile stream of piss four feet ahead of
him onto the floor. He started playing with his dick: He shook it, fast,
back and forth, and watched as the stream became chaotic. He shook it up
and down, hard, and saw how it compressed into harder lashes striking the
floor with force. Luxuriantly he took a long, wide turn, 270° out
toward the entrance and back, facing now the far wall abutting urinal
4/stall 3. The force of the stream of Samson's first-ever floorpiss began
to wane, and its arch started to diminish. He decided he'd spend the rest
of his stream against the wall he was facing; he got up close, cock just
two inches away, and once more waved his penis this way and that, fully
trying to COVER the wall, to BLANKET it in his piss. He didn't do half bad,
either.

Finally, inevitably, his piss stream dwindled down to nothing. He had two
or three final spurts, being sure to get it all out; and, with that, Samson
squeezed his hose out and stepped back to admire his handiwork.

After a moment of ecstatic taking-it-all-in, he recovered his senses and
hurriedly put his dick back away inside his shorts. <Thank God no one came
in,> he thought. But, yeah: He was surprised at how much fun it was... and
certainly he'd do it again. If he had any say about it, Samson thought,
he'd do it again... *with James.*

THE END