This story contains: A transgender man (post-operative chest and pre-operative genitalia), male-to-male sexual relations, and nontechnical language for trans male sex organs. What may be referred to as the clitoris will be called a dick, cock, etc., due to the preference for linguistically masculinizing his more phallic sex organ.
*****
Intriguingly enough, there was no disastrous confrontation the moment Peter shut his door. Even as the bathroom door audibly creaked open, even as he could hear Amar’s footfalls heading for his own bedroom—ruined with Peter’s piss—nothing came of it as soon as he had expected. The anticipation was miserable, making him wary about the very idea of leaving his bedroom to fetch drinks, a snack, anything. It had been a long time since he ever did anything to Amar that would warrant expecting a huge reaction, and he was not about to try to stumble into an argument while his friend was still fuming.
The wait was too long, so Peter waited for the telltale sound of Amar walking around the kitchen to stop, getting up for water once the silence was punctuated by the other bedroom door closing. It had been hours since he drank anything, and the sound of Amar going back and forth from his bedroom to the kitchen reminded him he was parched. He was quick, chugging half of the glass he poured before refilling it to take it back to his desk. Peter set the glass down and turned to close his bedroom door, only to see Amar standing there in a tank top and tight white underwear. All he could do was stare down uncomfortably at his friend, utter shame and embarrassment rendering him unable to come up with a decent starter or an excuse of any kind in time.
“Had fun today?” Amar piped up, stepping forward into Peter’s bedroom. “I did.”
Peter mumbled, “Decent coffee.”
Amar took a few more steps closer, forcing Peter to step back until his legs hit the edge of the bed where he sat down. He swore his roommate did not seem as angry as he should have been, because so far, Amar was being nonchalant. Were there a possibility that he would be stupid enough to somehow miss the smell and obvious sight of piss on his bed and floor, Peter might have found relief in that, but he knew him better than to be so unobservant; Amar must have been up to something.
“I almost feel bad,” Amar continued, standing in front of Peter with his arms crossed. He was parading a strong sense of moral superiority, exercising great restraint and serenity in the face of this horny heathen with his gaze casting a deliciously condescending glint. Those deep brown and down-turned eyes, normally bright with vigor or soothingly cool with contentment, sent a shock through Peter’s nerves straight to the heat sparking in the pit of his groin. “I saw what happened in there.”
“I don’t know what to say…”
“I figured you might ruin some part of the apartment, but I almost didn’t think it’d be mine!” As soon as Amar let a smirk slide past, Peter furrowed his brow in bewilderment.
“Did you do that shit on purpose?” He was starting to feel the rest of the outright shame fizzle out as a different fire burned hot within him.
“Only God knows.”
“God has nothing to do with this, you degenerate.”
Amar tutted, “Look who’s talking. I know you loved it. You loved leaving a mess for me to find.” Peter glanced down at Amar’s bulge, tightly pressed against his briefs as it twitched into an irresistible erection. “I didn’t just hear you, I heard how wet you were. You really didn’t hold back, did you?”
Speaking of his cunt, fresh cum pooled in Peter’s underwear as Amar continued running off the highlights. Reaching down to press his fingers against his smaller bulge, Amar grabbed his own gaziantep escort and they both jerked themselves off, staring at one another. Peter’s mouth watered as Amar tugged on his own cock through his briefs.
“I pissed all over your floor,” Peter admitted, enthralled by his friend’s audible breathing, “after soaking your fucking bed. Did you like the smell?”
“You should’ve seen me,” Amar let out an airy laugh, pulling the waistband down to free his seven-inch dick. It was almost comically thick on a body that skinny, wrapped in a significant amount of foreskin and coupled with a heavy pair of shaved balls hanging underneath. His hand wrapped around the length of his cock and stroked slowly, gliding the foreskin over the head to cover it completely, peeling it all the way back, and repeating. “I know you jacked off in my room. I humped the puddle in my bed you left for me and came in your mess.” The rhythm of his strokes tantalized Peter, drawing desperate images in his mind about how badly he wanted it.
“Fuck…” Peter was rubbing his three-inch cock more vigorously, the thick folds of his cunt already noisily sliding together. Conscious of the wet sounds, he made no effort to conceal them, shifting to lift his ass off the bed and yank his underwear down. Watching Amar fixate on his freshly exposed front hole made Peter’s dick throb. “Are you just going to jack off in my room? What do you want?” That sounded more desperate than accusatory.
“Don’t you think I deserve recompense?” Amar panted, “You ruined my bedroom, so I think I get to ruin something of yours.”
“My bed?”
Holding his foreskin back, Amar placed a firm hand on Peter’s shoulder, pointing his dick at Peter and tensing for a moment. “Yeah, and you.”
He knew what was coming and did not flinch away as Amar released his first spurt of piss onto Peter’s fuzzy chest. The shock came from Peter’s disbelief that Amar would stoop to his level of depravity, but this surprise only sweetened the sensation of hot pee rolling down over his soft gut and into his silver pubic hair. Peter kept rubbing off, waiting impatiently for the rest to come; it was clear that Amar was having trouble pushing past his erection.
Another short surge of urine shot out, this time onto Peter’s face, twisting his lustful expression into a mix of utter disgust and guilty delight. A soft sigh fell from Amar’s lips as the stream steadied into a more powerful flood. Emptying his bladder all over his bare body and face made Peter feel the weight of his supposed punishment, soaking in the spray and removing his hand to let it trickle over his cock. A wet spot was growing between his legs and seeping under his ass. Amar would not let it end there, rattling off a string of degrading truths too obvious not to expose him for.
“You like getting covered in my piss, you dirty slut?”
“Fuck yes,” Peter panted, leaning back a bit and spreading the lips of his cunt wide, pulling up to present his hard dick straight forward and out of its hood.
Amar tilted his cock down to hose Peter’s exposed dick, making his thighs twitch fiercely under the intense over-stimulation of a harsh jet. Moaning loudly, hopelessly taken by the rough pleasure firing his nerves, Peter jerked his hips upward into the spout, bucking to try and vary the exact points of pressure on his vulnerable three-inch erection as piss continued to rain heavily down onto it. “Bet that feels good,” Amar huffed. “You’re too eager to be a toilet, Peter. Is that all you’re good for?” The stream lessened to a trickle and stopped, leaving Peter with his hips suspended in the air a few desperate moments too long, silently pleading with his eyes for more. “Come on, you hatay escort freak, I need an honest answer.”
“Yes,” Peter breathed heavily, giving in to his trembling thighs and settling down in the big wet spot on the bed. His judgment clouded by intense arousal, he went on to demand beyond his worth in this punishment, begging, “I’m your filthy toilet. Fuck your toilet’s dirty cunt, please, it needs your fat cock…”
The hand on Peter’s shoulder migrated to the back of his head as Amar pushed his own hips forward, pressing his cock against Peter’s lips. Peter gladly took it into his mouth, lavishing the head with hungry tongue strokes and savoring the soft foreskin with gentle sucking between lightly pinched lips. He loved the feeling of his friend’s uncut dick on his tongue, trapped in his hot mouth. Pushing his tongue underneath the skin and gliding it over the glans before taking more of the dick into his mouth, Peter bobbed his head quickly to the satisfying sound of Amar moaning above him, blunt fingernails digging into his buzzed scalp.
“Your cunt doesn’t get to be fucked,” Amar insisted, making sure Peter would not slack on the job by forcing his head and moving his hips. Every few thrusts inward were punctuated by a harsh grunt, as if all civilized control was escaping his body and being displaced by feral heat. “You jacked off and pissed all over my room, you don’t get fucked for being disgusting. You should be ashamed, begging like a little bitch for such a big man. Can’t the slut take care of himself? You can fuck your own hole when you’re done sucking me off.”
Now neglected, Peter’s own little dick throbbed painfully from under-stimulation, urging him to turn his hips back in his seat and grind his erection and wet cunt into the soaked blanket. Cum smeared into the warm piss puddle as Peter rocked desperately in place, humping to the rhythm of his back-and-forth motion on Amar’s cock. Every now and then, Peter willed the back of his throat to tolerate Amar’s full length, and the pressure of his nose and brow on the other man’s lower abdomen elicited stifled groans of pain and quiet seething; his bladder was still somewhat swollen with piss. The thought of him letting go inside of his mouth had Peter rocking his hips even faster, whimpering and huffing desperately through his nose around a mouthful, while bringing a hand up to clasp Amar’s hip and press a firm thumb against the sensitive area.
“If you keep pressing on it, you’ll make me piss in your mouth,” Amar warned, not showing any indication of being genuinely concerned; Peter, in return, showed no indication of being anything but delighted. “Yeah, you’ll take every last drop, won’t you? Oh, fuck— you’re going to drink my piss and cum like the toilet you are.”
The point of no return became obvious to Peter when Amar grabbed both sides of his head, fucking his mouth to the sound of his own rapid panting. Unable to control his hips the way he would have liked—his head trapped, and spine bent forward—Peter halted and thrust his hand under his cunt, uselessly crushing his palm against it as Amar used his mouth. A finger slid between the folds and Peter managed to fuck his front hole, although the angle did not let him get any where close to climax. Just as he thought to try to fix his position, Amar’s noises reached the peak of their carnal crescendo as a series of expletives were bit back by grit teeth and Peter’s mouth filled with a taste that he had been missing for a long time—cum. Rope after thick rope of hot cum filled his mouth, nearly choking him as one of Amar’s orgasmic thrusts propelled a spurt of cum into the back of his throat. He had only just swallowed when a much stronger, saltier taste followed as Amar hatay escort unleashed the rest of his bladder’s contents into Peter’s throat.
Eagerly draining his roommate, Peter continued sucking gently on his cock even after Amar stopped driving it in, gulping down his acrid piss. It was demeaning to be used so callously, and the realization of how damning it was to his imagined superiority as a man alongside Amar was settling in as the peak excitement of his friend finishing ebbed away. Despite his far more imposing size and physical strength, and regardless of being a near decade Amar’s senior, Peter was made the bitch and he keenly accepted his fate, no matter how easy it would have been to reject the humiliation entirely. He could have knocked Amar off balance just by standing up in his space and teased the bravado out of him. Instead of asserting his dominance, Peter was topped off with and doused in piss, left with a burning desire in his aching dick as Amar withdrew with a patronizing ruffle of the graying hair on top of Peter’s head.
“I’m satisfied,” he sighed contently, turning away to head for the door. “Don’t give me a reason to make a repeat of that,” Amar paused at the threshold, thinking for a moment before clarifying, “Or do, if you can take it.” He shut the door behind his laugh.
Pushing himself off the bed, Peter wiped his mouth before tossing all the sheets off the mattress in a desperate attempt to save his bed. Not even the frustrating labors of trying to reverse the source of his regrets took away the desperate need to cum.
After toiling with the mess, Peter stayed undressed and pounded the rest of his glass of water, forgotten from earlier, heading out into the living room to plant his bare ass on the leather couch. The material stuck to his sweaty skin, apparent by the sound it made when he spread his thighs wide to expose his glistening cunt to the cool air. His cock was stiff and heavy with blood, still throbbing miserably. Now resigned to the depraved rivalry Amar unwittingly started with his retaliation, Peter waited for Amar’s bedroom door to open again before slowly rubbing his dick. Moving his fingers up and down its length, pressed firmly, Peter watched Amar step out and stop to stare back. He made eye contact as he dipped his fingers into his front hole and swiped the oozing cum all over his cock, moaning lowly as his motions quickened with side-to-side strokes.
“You missed this,” Peter rasped, propping a heel up on the edge of the couch as his fingers flew hurriedly over his dick, “when I was in your room. You can come watch whenever you catch me. Fuck, that feels so good…” He would not dare close his eyes as Amar stepped closer to watch from the hallway, rubbing his cock through a fresh pair of boxers. They wouldn’t stay fresh for much longer, which Peter relished in as he curved his fingers downward to attack his climbing ecstasy with aggressive fingering. His front hole twitched just before being penetrated by three digits at once, and he wasted no time in picking up the pace as his other hand went to clumsily rub his dick raw to the sight of Amar pulling out his own. “You like watching me? You want this wet cunt around your cock? Who needs this dirty fucking slut, huh? Fuck, I’m so close… God, yeah, jack off for me! You love my hot cunt, fuck! I’m cumming—!”
His hips bucked the air as his orgasm coursed violently through him, entranced by Amar’s own quickness to ejaculate on the floor. Peter jerked as he squirted two sizable spurts of piss onto the floor between his legs, some of it landing on the couch with the small pool of cum that lay there already. It was a ploy to gauge Amar’s response, and although it was not as much as what he left in his bedroom, it was enough for Peter to see how enraptured Amar was by the sight of him urinating.
Peter settled there, letting the air blow in from the window over his slick shrinking cock as he thought of how to earn his keep above being Amar’s greedy toilet.