I hadn’t seen one of my regular clients for quite some time. I was beginning to think he was just not into me anymore. Even worse, I found out that he had been together with one of the girls who had just joined the agency. I knew she was barely of legal age. The ’19’ on her sedcard was an overstatement.

Then, a few months later, I heard from him again. He wanted to see me for an 18-hour overnight date. Of course, I said ‘yes’, but I couldn’t help being a bit pissed off that he would rather spend his money on a ’19’-year-old than spend time with me. I hadn’t taken him for the kind of person who was into teenagers. It creeped me out a bit. Just a bad flavor in my mouth.

Our date started out very awkward. I couldn’t get it out of my head that he was seeing me out of some misplaced sense of loyalty when what he really wanted was a younger version of myself. I didn’t want to bring up that I was a bit pissed, and he was more reserved than usual as well. Then the bubble burst.

“You know, Alyssia, I have to tell you that I wasn’t sure we’d be going on another date.” He seemed genuinely sad. “When I asked if you were available and was told you already had a booking, I should have just let it go.” My head was racing, but I tried to stay calm on the outside. If he kept talking, maybe I could understand what was really on his mind. Being an escort was at times like being a therapist combined with the skills of a mindreader.

“Back in June, I wanted to see you again, but when you were not available, I ended up agreeing to see Kaylie instead. I didn’t really think we’d get along, but your boss was pretty persuasive.” I’m thinking, June. I wasn’t really busy in June. Maybe a short date here or there, but nothing that I would not have moved around for a good client.

“She could have been my daughter, and I must have been her first client. It was honestly one of the worst dates I could imagine.” OK, now I was relieved. Whatever made him skip over me, it didn’t seem to be directed at me.

“When did you see her, because I don’t think I was away or very busy in June?” I tried to figure out what games were going on behind my back. I wasn’t naive. Young girls needed clients to stay within the agency. Without girls, the agency wasn’t making any money. So the ‘demand’ was spread around enough to give young girls a sense that they are in the right business.

When we checked dates, it turned out I had nothing, and his request to see me never reached me. He was lied to, and by not telling me, I was as well.

“So you say that you didn’t know. I don’t believe it. I know as a client, I’m getting into bed with a business where ethics may not be valued, but I thought you were better than that. If you were really lied to, then quit and become independent.”

Wow, now he was about to either accuse me of lying to him, or being OK with being lied to. Neither is what happened or what I would accept.

“I promise, I had no idea. They kept me in the dark, but in all fairness, when we had our first date, I also stepped into Julia’s shoes. Remember, you wanted to see her for a second date in Munich and instead, I saw you.”

“How the hell do you know who I saw when? What kind of gossip place is this?” He was getting agitated. I better tell him what was really going on.

“No, that was different. Julia lives in Munich and she doesn’t do any dates in her hometown. She asked me if I could step in. So, I did. And that worked out alright, didn’t it?” My foot was now doing the talking underneath our dinner table. Sliding up his leg, dropping my heels.

“Fine, so that was different, but I’m still pissed off and I don’t know if I can really trust you.” Oh was I going to make sure he could trust me.

“So you’re not mad at me?” My puppy dog eyes, said, ‘pretty please’, while my foot was beginning to massage his growing erection under the table. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” He was a pretty predictable client. He liked my latex kink; I hadn’t seen too many other sides of him.

“Well, I’m pissed, and since you are the only one here who seems to know what’s been going on, you’ll just have to let me piss on you before our date is over.” I didn’t see that one coming! But to be honest, I was kind of excited. When he said he wanted to piss on me, I could feel with my foot how his cock got really hard. He didn’t say it because he wanted to punish me, it was something that turned him on!

“It’s a deal. You can piss on me. I tell you what, I’ll be your personal urinal tonight.” God was his cock hard when I said he could do it. He must have had this as one of his fantasies for a long time. He could have said something earlier, I don’t mind. But I suppose he was too much set in his own ways to try something new. Seeing it as ‘punishment’ allowed him to share a fantasy with me that I was more than happy to make a reality.

We both knew how talking about pissing on me turned him on. The idea that I would be his personal urinal, an object he could use at his pleasure, turned him into a different person. Dinner lasted a bit longer and I kept returning to my promise every time the server asked if we needed more water. I encouraged him to have plenty of water. I encouraged him to think of me as his toilet.

It was like a barrier had come down for him. He couldn’t wait to get back to our room and move on to the next part of our date. There was more intimacy, genuine intimacy, than I had experienced with him before. Without his cock telling me how he felt, I would never have known. He had his own inhibitions. Fortunately, his cock didn’t.

What started as an awkward date, turned into an amazing one. Late in the evening, we took a shower, I went on my knees in front of him, opened my mouth wide, and he poured his warm stream of piss right into me and over my face. I couldn’t have wished for a sweeter taste in my mouth to finish our evening.

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