For a man not that drawn to other cocks, this photo stirred a fantasy in Mick that he would not soon let go of.
Mick could feel this semi-stranger’s beautiful cock drenching his own bared phallus in a warm, enveloping embrace of running piss, thoroughly wetting his rigid length, his swelling balls, even snaking down and slipping though his anal opening’s tight door.
Then the owner of this pretty pissing meat would kneel and suckle his own golden wash off of Mick’s pulsating cock, as the man worked Mick into an orgasmic frenzy. Mick, from the sheer forbidden heat of this moment, soon sent his own jetted, sticky spray into the worshiper’s willing face.
His new dirty partner would smile at Mick, the grin glistening with piss and dripping seed, as he moved into to offer Mick a kissed sample.
As the two broke, the filthy fantasy went, the hard-cocked stranger would look at Mick the novice, and say “Your turn. Do me the same way. Please. Piss and all. Then kiss me.”
For some reason, Mick suddenly found that for him, the piss made everything more palatable. So, Mick went there fully in his ravenous mind, and as he imagined every last taste and grunt and cumwash over his own pissed-coated tongue, Mick came in thunderous torrents all over himself.
Then, just for effect, Mick intently pissed all over his own cum-spattered torso, smeared his hand in the warm, sticky cocktail, and slathered it on his mouth for the final imagined kiss.
He had no idea where this fantasy came from.
He also had no idea how to get back from it.