Connor is talking about his model trains again. It’s not that I dislike trains specifically; it’s just… not exactly the most riveting of subjects. Especially when you really have to pee. The sun’s been blazing all day, and without air conditioning, I’ve been drinking water to stay cool. Probably more water than was prudent, I think wryly. I can feel my bladder pushing against the waistband of my athletic shorts, and I surreptitiously squeeze the end of my cock through the thin fabric as Connor rambles on excitedly.
“Oh man, though, I’m so excited to check out the Seattle Train Show this year. This is the first time I’ve lived close enough,” he says, taking his eyes briefly off the road to glance at me. “You ok, Dylan?”
“Yeah, man, I just… I really have to pee,” I confess. “Is there anywhere we can stop soon?” I look hopefully up the road, but there’s nothing but brown fields for miles. “Was there a sign for a rest stop or anything?”
He scrunches his face for a second and then replies, “I don’t think so, dude. I don’t remember one, at least. Is it really that bad?” I side-eye him and don’t respond.
A minute later, I groan inwardly at the pressure building in my bladder. The feeling of fullness is intense, and I know I can’t wait much longer. A few more minutes go by, and I’m reduced to squeezing myself desperately through my shorts, rubbing my shaft and pinching my glans. Connor looks over a couple times sympathetically, but doesn’t say anything. We come up over a small hill, and there’s suddenly a turnoff into a parking lot with a few cars in it.
“Hey, Connor, maybe that’s a park-n-ride or something. Maybe there’s a bathroom,” I say. He pulls his truck off the road and into one of the spaces, and I hop out, heading towards a small building at the end of the impossibly large lot. I wonder briefly why Connor didn’t park closer to the building, but get distracted by my bladder surging in protest of my quickened pace. I know that I’m close to losing it.
Suddenly I notice a man walking away from the building, heading towards a truck. His white shirt is off and tucked into the back of his jeans, and his torso glistens with sweat. A very curly, light colored carpet of fur covers his bulging pectorals, and continues down his abs, disappearing into the front of his tight jeans. I take a couple of running steps toward him, but think better of it as my body threatens to soak my underwear.
“Hey, man! Is that a bathroom?” I yell towards him, waving with the hand that isn’t pressed to my cock, trying to hold the dam against the torrent of piss which is trying to escape me.
He turns and sees me, and says, “Nah, it’s just a tool shed for the equipment… hey, are you ok?” He looks concerned as I stumble to a stop in front of him, a stricken look on my face. I look into his impossibly light blue eyes as I feel a jet of hot pee escape my urethra and soak into the front of my underwear. His eyes widen as he sees the wet spot appear on my white shorts. “Are you…? Do…” he trails off as the spot widens. I can feel my muscles giving way as pee leaks out of my swollen cock, wetting my underwear. I hang my head.
“Hey, bud, it’s ok. There aren’t any bathrooms for miles; it happens to everybody,” he says comfortingly. I don’t look up, and suddenly feel his thick, furry arms wrap around me as my bladder releases in earnest; the pee shoots out of my dick, rushing through my underwear, a warm wetness that spreads quickly across my body.
And suddenly, my eyes blink open, and I’m awake in the darkness. But I’m still peeing. And there are still arms around me. I freeze, and terror causes me to pee even faster, creating a soft hissing noise as piss sprays through my briefs and into the bed. And onto Connor, whose muscled arms are, strangely, around me. We’d fallen asleep on separate sides, and now this. I can tell that our crotches are pressed against each other, and realize with a feeling of horror that my piss is soaking my underwear and going directly onto his cock. Which is… Stiffening?
Connor murmurs unintelligibly, and pulls me closer to him, my face pushing into the soft, curly hair on his chest, and my pissing dick shoving against his hardening cock as his pushes back against me. I flinch and close my eyes, but he doesn’t seem to be waking up. His cocks twitches into a full erection as the hot piss from mine runs over it, and suddenly I feel his muscles tighten. He moans lightly, and I feel a hot, sticky liquid hit my chest as his cock twitches again. The torrent coming from my dick starts to slow as I feel jets of cum erupt from his pulsing rod, accompanied by a couple soft whimpers from one of us. I think it’s him, but, to be honest, it could be me. Or both of us. Fuck if I know.
My mind races. I know he was asleep, as only a wet dream could have gotten him from arousal to cumming that quickly, and I pray furiously to whatever god can hear me that he stays that way. I think furiously as his body relaxes, trying to scheme some way of cleaning us up without him waking. My conniving is wasted, however, when I hear him give a soft sigh above my head.
“Dylan? Oh, sorry, man, I must have rolled over in my… WOAH,” he says, reaching down between us. “Is this? Did I – you? Holy shit,” he says, as I feel his hand running down the soaked sheet and across my taut stomach. “This wasn’t me, was it? Is this… cum?” he asks, as his fingers touch the hot, thick liquid on the ridges of my stomach. He sits up and flips the light switch by the hotel bed, softly illuminating the bed as he pushes the upper sheet off of us.
I sit up. “Um… Yeah, it is,” I say, my eyes wide, searching his eyes for his reaction. I’m still terrified as I say, “It’s actually yours. I, um… Kinda wet the, uh… the bed.” My mouth is as dry as the brown grass outside. He gives me a questioning look, and I continue, “I woke up to you holding me as I was wetting, and you, uh… You came on me while I was pissing on you.” His eyes widen a bit and the corner of his mouth quirks up.
He gives a slight coughing laugh and puts the pad of his thumb on his lips as he looks down in what I guess is amused discomfort. “Well,” he says with a slight chuckle. “This is kinda awkward, huh?” I purse my lips in apprehension and look down as well. He asks, “Would you believe I was dreaming about you when I came?” I look up, and I see him grin at me. I notice his cock swelling, lengthening along his naked thigh. His briefs are bunched around his ankles. They must have gotten dragged off while he moved in his sleep, I think, as I stare at the head of his growing, uncut cock.
“I, uh, was dreaming about something weird. I don’t exactly remember, but you were there. And then somehow you ended up on top of me. And you were wetting yourself,” Connor says, and I can hear the grin in his voice.
I feel my cheeks heat up in an uncontrollable blush. I laugh slightly as I say, “Well, that part was real, I guess. I’m so sorry, man.”
I see our friendship flying apart in my head.
“I can’t believe that happened tonight.”
He’ll never want to see me again.
“I haven’t done that in years. Usually I wake up right before I start peeing, or at least right after the first couple squirts of piss. It usually never makes it past my briefs, and…” I trail off, having watched his cock jerk into a ramrod erection in the midst of my talking. I look up and see his mouth hanging open and his eyes boring into mine. Oh. Well then.
“That’s… That’s fuckin’ hot, dude. How, uh… how often does that happen?” he asks as he brushes his hand along my thigh. My breath hitches as his touch sends shocks of dancing pleasure along my body. I can feel an electric tension fogging the air between us as I try to draw in a ragged breath.
“It um…” I swallow hard as he brushes me again and his still-wet cock twitches. “Here and there. Once a week or so, I guess,” I give a quick moan as he grabs the soaking waistband of my underwear and starts to draw it slowly down my body. The wet fabric is still warm from my hot piss, and the feeling of it sliding down my thigh makes my head spin, and my throat clench like I’ll never breathe again. He rolls across the huge wet spot on the bed, kicking his own briefs off of his feet, and straddles my leg, his warm balls resting just above my knee as he grabs the other side of my underwear and begins drawing it down.
I’m panting now as I look straight into his eyes. He stares straight back. My heart is thumping so fast that I’m not even sure what it’s doing can still be called beating. The waistband of my briefs finally drags past my painfully hard cock, which slaps back against my abs. Connor stares at the piercing coming from the end of my dick as he lifts his leg and drags my soaking underwear down and off my feet. He leans down and stares into my eyes as he slowly licks from the bottom of my shaft where it connects to my scrotum, all the way up to the ring exiting my frenulum. He swirls his tongue lightly around my glans, and I shudder with pleasure and moan.
Slowly, he moves further up my body, never disconnecting his eyes from mine. His muscular arms support him as he hovers over me, our lips just a hair apart; our cocks in a mirroring position. I tip my head back slightly and he catches my lower lip for a millisecond in his lips, dragging it up slightly as he releases it.
“I…” I say weakly, and he silences me by thrusting his wet cock against mine, sliding its length along my ring. I gasp, and he pushes his warm lips down onto mine, his tongue immediately pushing into my mouth. I taste the salty tang of my own piss mixing with the sweetness of his mouth as his tongue dances with mine. I can’t think. Everything is hot, everything is hard, everything is soft. He begins thrusting his cock along mine, frotting with my piss. I moan loudly against his mouth, and he nips my lip with his teeth. He thrusts faster, our cocks pulsing against each other as I feel the pressure of the ring in my urethra and his foreskin dragging up and down along my shaft and glans.
He swirls his tongue around the tip of mine like it’s a dick, and suddenly I can’t breathe; I don’t want to breathe. I arch my back, grab the wet globes of his ass, and press my erection against his as I grind a moan from my throat. The first jet of cum explodes from my rod before the orgasm has even reached its apex. It splashes onto my chest, and the next explodes from my cock like fire, sailing over the last and spraying across my chin and the pillow under my head. I hear him whimper (so it WAS him) as he climaxes as well, spraying his seed across my pecs and neck. Rolling wave after wave of orgasm crests over me until I think I might drown. I move my hands from his ass to his head and press him harder against my lips as I cum over and over, my mind filled with fire.
Finally, Connor collapses onto my chest, and I fall back onto the bed, gasping for air like a newborn. As I heave for breath, I hear a slight, breathless giggle from beside me where Connor’s face is pressed into the pillow.
“Fuck, man. This trip just got so much better,” he says.
I laugh and slap his ass. He laughs with me, and lifts and turns his head to look lazily into my eyes. I turn and look back. “Not that hanging with you wasn’t amazing already,” he says. He dips down and kisses me again, this time softly. My eyes close and I savor the tender sweetness of his mouth on mine. He places his hand on the side of my face and rubs the pad of his thumb along the crest of my cheekbone as my swollen lips are caressed by his.
After a minute, he rolls off to the side, into the cool wet spot on the bed. “Oh, that’s cold,” he laughs. He grabs me and pulls me up against his chest, nipping my shoulder mischievously. He reaches down and pulls the sheet back over us, and then turns the light off.
“Um… Connor? Shouldn’t we, like… Clean up a bit?” I say, with a soft laugh. His cock is still hard, pressed against the crack of my ass.
He yawns as he says, “Nah. We got a long day ahead of us. Gotta make at least four hundred miles if we want to stay on track.” He trails away softly as he says, “We’ll get it in the morning. Or the cleaning service will. Or my tongue… or whatever…”
I roll my eyes and grin as I snuggle my ass against his cock and my back against his furry chest. “Cold,” I mumble, as sleep begins to drift slowly across my mind, smothering me in its obscuring depths.
The last thing I feel before I drift away is the enveloping warmth of Connor pissing against my back, rewarming the bed, and tucking his arm around me.