Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
It was nice to not be shrugged off as usual.
“Like that would fly with your father. She lives too far away from here, and she doesn’t want to see me now anyway. I need to piss,” Miguel said and got up so fast Nero lost balance and fell on the stone that still felt warm after housing Miguel’s butt. He scowled when the last bite of the arepa slipped from between his fingers and dropped into the dirt at their feet, but as delicious as the food was, he would not have it spiced with cigarette butts and sand.
“Hey, wait!” He rose to follow Miguel, but the world blurred, and he found himself looking for support because his legs could not be trusted.
Miguel threw his empty box into an overflowing trash can and grabbed Nero’s arm as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “You’ve got ten seconds until I piss myself.”
Nero hummed and felt his own cock through his joggers. An older woman passing along the street turned her face away, as if the gesture were meant for her, but now that Nero was upright, he too felt a growing need to relieve his bladder.
“Let’s make a game out of it,” he said when Miguel pulled him away from the lights and through an arched passage. The air was infused by the trash cans looming in the shadow, but past them was a messy yard surrounded by tenement buildings on each side.
“Not if the game is you sucking my dick.” Miguel frowned, unzipping his jeans the moment they stepped into shadows dispersed only by the weak glow reaching them from a couple of the windows above. The sharp, familiar sound went straight to Nero’s balls. “You don’t drink piss, do you?”
Nero would try almost everything once, but that wasn’t an experience he’d want to repeat. “Nah. But how about we see who can keep pissing for longer? Winner chooses what we do next?” he proposed, getting hotter when Miguel’s phantom cock rested against his lips right here, in this dark yard surrounded by tall walls that led the eye toward the sky, as if they were at the bottom of a well. He would drop to his knees and work his tongue over the thick length while people in the apartments above went about their business, unaware of the couple going at it right under their noses.
Miguel squinted at him. “Okay, but normal shit, not weird sex stuff.”
Angel choirs echoed in Nero’s head when Miguel pulled his cock out. Even when soft, it was thick, dark, and so suckable Nero imagined pulling back the foreskin with his lips to tease the slit with his tongue.
Shivering, he leaned against Miguel’s shoulder and lowered his pants, ready to water the flowerbed running along the wall. Judging by the odor of ammonia hanging in the warm air, they weren’t the first ones to pop in here for quick relief.
“Sure. What about regular sex stuff?” he sniggered, trying to will his growing erection away.
“No. Ready? Go.”
Miguel released a strong stream of piss, prompting Nero to do the same. The game was so silly Nero felt like he was a kid again, just goofing off with his friends and unaware of the terrors yet to come.
It felt good.
“I’ve drank too much,” Nero muttered, focusing on the bachata melody coming from beyond the other side of the yard while their piss whispered in the dark like a prelude to something more.
“Oh, yeah? You’re admitting defeat?” Miguel asked even though it was him who swayed to the side and whose stream was weakening.
“Never,” Nero said and willed himself to empty his bladder at a slower pace, because he was not yet ready to finish their date. “I wanna go to where this music is playing.”
Miguel supported himself against the wall with a huff, but it was clear that he’d lost as the last drop still held on to the tip of his cock like a flag of surrender. He sighed so deeply Nero expected his body to deflate and collapse to the ground.
“Fuck. Fine. Maybe they have more food there.”
Nero released his remaining piss in a loud stream. “What is it Miguel? Growing weak? Want me to feed you?” he asked and bumped his shoulder against Miguel’s before tucking himself in.
Miguel groaned and shoved him away, his dick still dangling out of his fly like a prize Nero wasn’t allowed to claim. “Only if your cock is made out of churros.” He frowned. “Just imagine a dick-sized churro…”
Nero put his hand on Miguel’s hip and nudged him across the yard, to the gate on its other side, which would take them closer to where the music was coming from. “A churro molded after yours could give me diabetes, but I’d still have it. Does it come with a cream filling?”