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Shane was right where he wanted to be. Scratch that, he was right where he needed to be. Pinned against the bed underneath his husband as Ilya ground his hips down into Shane’s, encouraging the hot rush of blood that coursed through his gut and into his growing erection.
Ilya threaded his hand through Shane’s hair and tugged hard, just how he knew Shane liked. This night had happened a dozen times over already, and Shane was sure he would never grow tired of it. It was routine, it was perfect.
Well, almost perfect. Shane had to pee. Like, really had to pee. To the point where it was hard to focus on the pleasure over the press on his bladder, especially with Ilya adding additional pressure every five seconds. He had drunk a lot of water after dinner, and was now paying the price. Shane was stuck at a semi, no matter how much his husband was turning him on.
Ilya of course noticed almost immediately. During a breath for air, he glanced down at the lack of a tent in Shane’s briefs and furrowed his brow.
“You do not want sex tonight?” he asked, already moving to dismount Shane.
“No- no I do,” Shane quickly clarified, grabbing at Ilya’s waist to pull him back down. “I just need to pee.”
“So pee?” Ilya offered, rolling off him so he could use the restroom. But Shane did not move. “You do not need to pee?” he asked, looking at him like he was stupid.
“I do,” Shane said, but offered no additional explanation. Ilya looked at him expectantly, somewhat dumbfounded. Shane’s face flushed deeper than it already was. “I cant-” he began, voice tight with embarrassment. “I can't pee when I’m hard.”
Ilya glanced down at his groin.
“You are not that hard.”
“Ilya,” Shane whined and covered his face with his hands.
“Shane,” Ilya deadpanned. “What are the options? Go try. Your cock will get soft and then I will make it hard again.”
Shane huffed, more embarrassed at his own dysfunction than annoyed at Ilya, but he still shot his husband a nasty side eye as he slid out of bed and sulked to the bathroom. Leaving the door open, he took off his briefs all the way and deposited them in the hamper before standing over the toilet.
His dick was not fully erect, but it was nowhere near flaccid. Certainly not soft enough to pee. Shane exhaled sharply though his nose, frustrated at his bladder for ruining the moment. He closed his eyes and tried to relax enough to let the pee flow out.
His bladder clenched again but did not find relief. Shane gritted his teeth against the pressure, growing more agitated, which did nothing to help him relieve himself. He tried to tighten his core and force the pee out, but all this seemed to do was make him harder than he was to begin with.
A sharp stab of desperation pierced his gut. As it peaked, it left a warm feeling in its wake, somewhere between pain and pleasure but without the euphoria of release. Usually Shane liked peeing. The relief was always satisfying especially when the need had built after a long run or a game or a movie. It was human, a natural and primal instinct to enjoy the release. At least that is what Shane told himself. What he would less readily admit was the fact that he sometimes deliberately held his pee, let it build so that the release would be better, longer, pleasurable even. A private indulgence. But nothing like this. This was torture.
Another wave of desperation pushed on his lower belly, but his semi, which now qualified as a full mast, would not let it come out. Shane clenched down and doubled over his bladder. Need grew into a hot bubble of arousal in his gut, the pressure of the piss mingling with the swell of blood to his cock.
Shane groaned softly at the feeling, the denial of release. Fuck he was turned on. Hardly two minutes ago, he could not get hard because of the pressure on his bladder. Now his desperation was making him so horny he could hardly see straight.
Ilya must have heard him struggling, because suddenly there were footsteps behind him and Ilya was at his back, kissing up his neck, his hands pressing down onto Shane’s hips.
“You are still hard,” he murmured into Shane’s collarbone with a not-so-subtle smirk. Shane could die of embarrassment if he weren’t so turned on.
“You aren’t helping,” Shane replied, rocking his hips back to nudge against Ilya’s erection which was now being pressed into his ass.
Ilya hummed. “Yes, but you are harder than before,” he observed. Shane blushed.
“I can’t get soft,” he said, sounding whiner than he intended.
Ilya tut-tutted, running his hands over Shane’s hips and up his sides. His breath was hot against Shane’s neck.
“I think you like it,” he purred, hands creeping forward to Shane’s stomach to where his distended bladder was pushing. “I think,” he pressed down over the taught skin, earning a gasp and a moan from Shane as another sharp jolt of pleasure-pain hit his gut, “that this is turning you on.”
He was right. Shane was so hard it was becoming painful, more painful than the fullness of his bladder. His cock was standing straight up, nowhere near angled at the toilet bowl below him. There was very little hope left of peeing before dealing with his arousal.
“I am right?” Ilya asked, his fingers tracing circles over Shane’s bladder, trailing down in loops towards the trimmed pubic hair that preceded his erect cock. Teasing, taunting Shane.
“I can't pee like this,” Shane groaned, unable to hide the pure desperation in his voice.
“No,” Ilya whispered and nipped Shane's earlobe, “you cannot.”
Shane flushed in humiliation and arousal. He was going to have to beg for it. Ilya knew what he needed. He knew he needed to cum first. Ilya, his evil, hot husband, was going to make him beg to pee. It was the hottest thing he had ever done.
“Help me,” he gasped, his cock twitching at the thought. He did not have to turn his head to know that Ilya was smiling devilishly. But still Ilya said nothing. Shane whined. Far past the point of hot and bothered he was burning and desperate.
“Ilya,” Shane pleaded, drawing out his name. Ilya only responded by pressing his thumbs into Shane’s bladder again, hard.
“Fu-uck!” Shane gasped, his body jolting forward as a small pulse of piss spilled from his hard cock and dribbled down the shaft. “Fuck Ilya help me,” he blurted. “Make me cum please. Please let me pee.”
“Shower,” Ilya commanded gruffly.
Turning around to follow, Shane finally caught sight of Ilya. His pupils were so blown his eyes looked black, and his flush was almost enough to match Shane’s deep red embarrassment. His erection was straining against his boxers, and there was a small damp spot where his precum had leaked. He stared at Shane hungrily, starved, eyes glazed over with want.
Shane could not remember the last time he had seen Ilya this turned on. Probably when they were both vivacious twenty-somethings in a hotel room, lost in the passion of their then-secret affair. The sight was almost enough to make Shane forget his desperation. Almost.
Ilya pushed Shane against the tiled wall with one hand and began to tug off his own underwear with the other. Shane got to work helping him, his erect cock bumping against Shane’s thigh once it was free. He kicked the soiled fabric away as Shane wrapped his hands around his shoulders. Ilya splayed one hand against Shane’s lower stomach and lubed the other with spit, wrapping it around Shane’s cock.
Shane gasped at the pleasure then yelped when Ilya pressed his heel into his bladder. Ilya swallowed the noise with his tongue, licking into Shane’s mouth hungrily. He stroked Shane’s cock firmly and slowly, twisting his grip torturously. Shane tried to kiss back, but all his focus was on keeping himself upright. It might have been easier to focus on the pleasure over the desperation now that Ilya was giving his cock attention, but the hand on his bladder made sure he did not forget.
“Oh fuck,” he gasped as another wave of desperation approached his cock. Ilya tightened his hand around the base before pushing down hard on his bladder, intensifying the pressure tenfold. “Ohymgod,” Shane moaned through gritted teeth as piss tried and failed to force its way past Ilya’s vice grip. The line between pain and pleasure disappeared. His legs buckled.
Ilya breathed hot and heavy into his ear, their cheeks pressed together as he helped Shane right himself, one hand still on Shane’s erection.
“Ok?” he checked in.
Shane wanted to say something along the lines of yes, this is so hot, I’ve never been more turned on in my life, but all he could manage was a curt nod, his mouth open and panting, eyes pleading for more. Ilya looked at him with dark, horny eyes as he resumed his tugging, pressing forward so that he was grinding his own erection into Shane’s hip.
Shane moaned as the pressure on his bladder was joined by the pressure of his building orgasm. Ilya groaned against his neck, jerking his hips against Shane’s. He massaged Shane’s bladder gently but firmly and picked up the pace on his cock. Shane felt heat coil below his bladder as his balls tightened. He was going to cum soon. And once he came, the inevitable would happen.
“Ilya,” he whined, warning.
“Cum for me,” Ilya replied, his own voice breathy and deeply aroused.
“No-“ he gasped. “I'm gonna pee.”
Their bodies were pressed tight together. Shane was going to pee on Ilya, on the both of them, if he did not stop.
“Yes,” Ilya moaned. “Pee.”
Shane's gut tightened. His voice caught in his throat as the wave of pleasure crested. Then it crashed down and exploded. Shane cried out as his orgasm crescendoed, clinging to Ilya for dear life as he lost control of his body. The pleasure was unreal, the fullness of his bladder only intensifying the release of his orgasm.
The first few spurts were pure cum, but the second his stomach unclenched a trickle of piss followed, mingling with the remnants of his orgasm. It flowed out of his cock and quickly became a waterfall, splashing against Ilya’s hips and cock, making an obscene sound as it splattered on the floor of the shower.
The relief was so intense Shane could only pant through the aftershocks as warm urine filled the space between their bodies, flowing in rivets down their legs and towards the shower drain.
Ilya's hands had moved elsewhere. One was supporting Shane, snaked around his lower back, while the other pumped his own cock which was now soaked in Shane’s cum and piss. Ilya’s forehead was pressed into Shane’s shoulder, face and chest flushed as he worked himself, gaze fixed on Shane’s leaking cock.
It only took a couple more strokes before his face contorted into Shane’s collarbone as he grunted and gasped. Shane was still dribbling pee when Ilya came onto his stomach, adding to the mess between them. They panted together while Ilya coaxed the last drops of cum from his cock and shook them onto Shane. He sighed, content, and then to Shane’s shock relieved his own bladder.
It was nowhere near the torrent that had exploded from Shane, but it was enough. The sight of Ilya’s half-hard cock spilling piss onto Shane’s own flaccid sex, the feeling of the warm liquid pouring over his shaft and seeping between his thighs, mingling with his own orgasm and piss, was the hottest thing Shane had ever experienced. It was nearly enough to arouse him again had he not been so spent already.
He turned his face towards Ilya’s, searching for his lips. Ilya met him half way, sloppy and wet and grateful. They stayed like that, locked together, until both of them were finally, finally finished. Somehow, it was Shane who managed to speak first.
“That was hot.”
Ilya nodded in affirmation, total adoration in his eyes as he looked at Shane.
“Like, the hottest thing we have ever done,” Shane continued.
“Yes,” Ilya agreed, still somewhat breathless. “It was filthy. And now we are filthy.”
He was right. The shower reeked of sex and urine. A path of pale yellow led to the drain. Shane’s thighs and legs were sticky where the mix of the two fluids was drying. He was beginning to feel very gross.
Ilya reached over and turned on the tap, pulling Shane under the stream when it warmed up enough. When the hot water hit Shane, his bladder released the last of its contents. He sighed, relieved, finally feeling empty. He let Ilya rinse his lower body while he lathered shampoo between his hands. They took turns cleaning each other from head to toe, caring and devoted. The smell of various soaps overtook the smell of everything they had just done together.
“That was new,” Shane mumbled into Ilya’s chest. They were toweled off and cuddling in bed, still nude underneath the covers. That night, there had been no need to change the sheets.
“It was good for you?” Ilya asked.
Shane nodded. “It was a lot. In a good way. Like when we first used a vibrator.” Ilya smiled, remembering that night. “And for you?” Shane returned the question.
Ilya blew out a long breath. “So good.” Shane smiled.
“I don’t think I've seen you that turned on in years.”
“What can I say? My husband is very hot when he is desperate.” Ilya pinched Shane’s ass when he said desperate.
Shane laughed and squirmed at the playful touch, blushing. He opened his mouth to speak but hesitated, suddenly feeling shy. Sure, they had both just confirmed that they liked everything they did tonight. But the whole experience was still overwhelming Shane. He took a second to listen to Ilya’s heart beat, calming himself, before he tried to speak again.
“We can do that again? Or- or something like that?”
“What, when you have to pee?” Ilya clarified. Shane nodded, still blushing but relaxed at Ilya having named it.
“Yes. Or when. Uhm. When you have to?” Ilya shifted so he could look at Shane better. His eyebrows were raised in confusion, or perhaps intrigue.
“When I have to pee?”
“Not- well not like,” Shane paused and huffed, searching for the words. “I liked being… desperate. I liked when you made me pee. And…” He felt shame bubble up before his next words, but he pushed through it. “I liked when you peed on me.”
There was something proud, impressed in the way Ilya looked at Shane as he spoke. A filthy but soft smile slowly spread across his face.
“I liked it too,” he said, practically purred the words into Shane’s ear.
“Peeing on me?” Shane asked quietly.
“Yes. All of it. Peeing on you. You being desperate. You peeing on me.”
Shane looked up at him, eyes smouldering and adoring. He kissed Ilya, long and deep, just on the edge of needy. When they broke apart, Ilya looked at Shane like he was intoxicated, eyelids droopy and gaze heady.
“Yes,” Ilya said.
“What?” Shane asked, brows knit in confusion.
“We can do that again.”