The Summer of '89

"Why — do you need to shower or something?"

This time the amusement was subtle but unmistakable.

"No, I need to ah... find something to wear..."

"I'll bet," she said, with a barely audible snicker, and the cellar door closed.

I used water from the running washer to clean my face and body as best I could, and used a dirty towel to dry off. My heart raced as I rifled through the clean laundry to find something decent to wear. What could she be thinking, I pined, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I really thought things might get really weird between us now, and that we probably would want to just avoid each other, at least for a while. I'd never dreamed that she would want to risk being with me so soon, and alone to boot. What could we possibly talk about, if not the "incident"? It was at least 5 minutes to the boardwalk. I anticipated a very nervous, silent walk to the beach.

After I'd dressed in something suitable, I ran up the stairs and began to wait for her to come out of her room. Two months earlier, that would have irritated the piss out of me, but now I felt I could wait forever for this goddess and feel nothing but gratitude at her eventual company. I gradually became aware that my breath must smell horrible, with that persistent slight ammonia aftertaste, undoubtedly a side-effect of drinking Angie's piss. I went to the bathroom and quickly brushed my teeth.

When Angie finally appeared, my jaw nearly hit the floor. She was wearing a tight white, ribbed sweater with a plunging v-neck that had the dual effect of emphasizing the size and shape of her tits where they were covered, and drawing your eye directly to the cleavage where they weren't. Her shorts were a tad looser, but did nothing to disguise the fact that her hips were perfectly articulated to that amazing waist. She did a quick spin, beamed at me and asked, "What do you think?"

"Angie, let's get you out of here before my mom sees you and makes you change!" was all I could think to say, but I felt my cock starting to get hard again. As I followed her out the door, I couldn't help staring at her ass, which — as beautiful as she was everywhere else — was by far her best feature in my opinion. It had perfect width, and was almost impossibly round. I'd seen her in bikinis and I knew that the skin of her bottom was perfectly smooth, and in spite of her exaggerated curves, she was very tight and firm.

I felt faint as I thought to myself, this beautiful girl just pissed on me no more than an hour ago!!

When we got out to the sidewalk in front of my house, I fell in beside her and we began a leisurely stroll toward the crashing waves of the beach, which was about four blocks away. Sure enough, things were silent, and I at least felt awkward.

"That was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, Bradley," Angie said, breaking the soft silence of the moment.

I couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic, but she sounded sincere enough. Still, how does one respond to someone who is complimenting you for letting them piss on you, I thought. I decided you didn't, and struggled with the urge to pick up our pace to end this interminable walk.

"I mean, it's one thing to let me pee on your face," she continued with barely concealed bemusement, "but it's another thing entirely to open your mouth and drink it!" I sensed she was looking at me as she said these amazing words, and I tried to meet her eyes. I saw an intensity in her I'd just seen for the first time in the basement before. In the light of the streetlights, her pupils were quite large, and that gave her eyes that oversized quality you see in an anime drawing. To me, the effect was the same as looking into bright sunshine, and I quickly looked away.

"No, look at me!" she demanded softly. "I want to see the look in your eyes when we talk about this."

She had stopped dead in her tracks. I stopped too, then turned and looked up until our eyes met again.

"It's one thing," she repeated, "to let me pee in your mouth, and quite another to actually drink it, but what I think was so very sweet of you was to kneel down and lick my piss off the cellar floor after I left..." She waited a moment for the shock to register on my face, and then satisfied, smiled in such a way that I can only describe as evil.

"I... I... I... How did you—"

She laughed easily. "I went outside and looked through the cellar window at you! I knew you hadn't come and I just knew you would want to 'finish', so I went outside to watch the show! Let me tell you, I got way more than I bargained for! That was worth this whole stupid summer!" Then she laughed outright at me, and the twinkle in her eye accentuated her obvious glee.

Once again, I found I was also at a total loss for words.

"That was the sickest thing I've ever seen," she said, and turned again toward the beach, resuming her stroll. "God, I loved it though! You have no idea what it feels like — how goddamn good it feels — to watch somebody kneel down and literally lick up piss, YOUR PISS off the FLOOR!"

It took me a moment to regain my composure and take a few quick steps to catch up with her. We were almost at the boardwalk.

"You really liked it?" I asked, barely able to hear my own voice.

"Come on, Brad. What girl doesn't like being worshipped? You've just taken it to such a literal extreme, I just can't get over it. I mean, it really WAS nice, in a very kinky sort of way..." She smiled. "You know what? I think it was so sweet of you, that if you want I'll let you fuck me, or suck your cock or something. Would you like that? I mean, you really earned it, I think."

In a day that had been filled with stunners, this one may have taken the cake (at least up to that moment), and I couldn't make up my mind which was more unbelievable: that my incredibly gorgeous, sexy cousin would offer to let me have sex with her for drinking her piss, or that her tone was so incredibly sincere in the offer!

"Come on, stupid!" she said, teasing. "It can't be that hard to accept! I'll let you do anything you want, but just this once! What's it going to be?"

I suddenly felt a sense of great emergency, like watching a great and eternally locked door of opportunity open up briefly. I couldn't think about it long, and I remembered how good she looked when we walked out of the house a few minutes ago...

"Let me kiss your ass, Angie! Show me your asshole, and let me kiss it!" I blurted out, and I almost slapped my hand over my mouth to stop the rush of words.

"Ha!" Angie exclaimed in amazement. "You can do anything you want, and what you really want is just to kiss my ass??"

"And lick it and suck it," I finished. "Your assHOLE," I added quickly to make sure I was clear.

We were at the boardwalk. She grabbed my hand and started pulling me in the opposite direction of the rides and flashing lights that reflected off the weathered wood, away from the buzzing of groups of kids our age, a few beach codgers, and the occasional cop. She pulled me toward the stairs leading to the beach, and then we walked down toward the water. The sights and sounds of the boardwalk began to fade. We walked in silence for about five more minutes, hand-in-hand, and the sound of the crashing waves began to become the dominant sound.

Then we walked back away from the shoreline toward the boardwalk, but here it was quiet, dark, and quite deserted. She led me under the boardwalk, and I sensed that she had come here before. Now we were truly alone. The distant rides and signs of the amusement piers combined with the softer light of the moon to provide just enough illumination that I could see her face clearly. Her anime-cartoon eyes were larger than ever. She looked like a dream.

She pulled off my jacket, and threw it down into the sand and then sat down on it. She looked up at me and patted the sand next to her, and I sat down next to her.