A Recipe For Pineapple & Mango Chutney

Ballard Moxoc

As I rush off to the bathroom of my grandmother’s house, my bladder fills me with pain, because I filled it with liquids. My groin area throbbed as I hobbled my way to the bathroom on the far side of the house. I did not get an erection, as I normally would when my penis area throbs, as the pain was too immense. I finally reached the bathroom. I opened the outer screen door with great haste. I opened the second door with slightly less haste as it was oaken and bulky. I locked the inner door, turned around, only to discover the toilet seat was broken and would not stay up when I lifted it. I struggled with the seat as my urge to piss grow ever stronger. Somehow in this urine filled haze, I had managed to unzip my fly and when I sat down to get a better grip on the toilet seat I could not help but consummate the act of urination. Out from my pants flowed a strong stream of urine. It was fairly pale in color and most unruly. The relief was tremendous, almost as if a giant amazon warrior was stroking my penis, which was many feet in length. I tried to keep erotic thoughts to a minimum as I didn’t want to distract my urinary system from fully emptying my bladder. After 4 minutes of pure, constant pissing, I noticed that the urine was not being contained to the toilet. The front of my pants was starting to become quite darkened by the waste fluid, and the carpet around the bottom of the toilet was nearly sopping wet. I tried to stop pissing, but unless I could manifest the fists of God himself, nothing was stopping this stream of pure elation. I debated whether or not to try to remove my pants, as they were most certainly going to have to be dry cleaned after this was over. As I was lost in thought, the piss kept coming. It soaked the walls, the shower curtain, the toothbrush holder (and corresponding toothbrushes), the sink, the hand towels, the doorknob, the mirror, and any other toiletry that was left unattended. The force of my urine stream was so strong it even managed to open the medicine cabinet and ruin a perfectly usable bottle of aspirin, a mildly usable bottle of NyQuil, a tube of toothpaste, and several boxes of contraceptives. It also managed to break the lock on the bathroom door.

Panic engorged my butthole. I was now overly concerned with someone walking in and discovering the nearly piss filled room. The damage would be hard to hide, and I can only assume my relentless and vigorous torrent of piss made quite the cacophony. I summoned all the strength of my power, panic, and embarrassment to momentarily stop urinating so I could fix the lock on the door. I could still feel the prying hands of my bladder wanting to burst out once again, so I knew I had to move quickly. I ripped my pants off and threw them into the bathtub. I shimmied over to the door, careful to avoid stepping on either of the carpets, and attempted to repair the lock, with all my knowledge and brute strength. Sadly, neither were particularly notable. I jingled it several times, but the door would occasionally slip open. I had to slam it forcefully to keep my dirty secret to myself. Unfortunately, this all took some time, and the overwhelming feeling of needing to continue my piss was starting to become unbearable. Also unfortunately, it was about that time of the day where the cleaning crew reached the far end of the house. A short, stocky black woman tried to enter the bathroom. I attempted to push her away, but her love of cleaning toilets overpowered by arm’s ability to keep the door shut. I tried to tell her I was naked, but she pretended not to understand English, nor the sight of my imperiled penis. Somehow, she seemed completely oblivious to the deluge of piddle that was strewn about the bathroom. We started to have an argument when she wanted to move to the bathtub, and I shouted several phrases in Urdu. I grew more and more impatient, as I could feel my bladder wanting to give out. I started to spasm as if I had a lobster clawing to get out of my anus. She still seemed unphased. I could feel my urine starting to trickle down my urethra. Luckily for me, it was quite a long urethra, so I knew I had about 20 seconds to remove her from the bathroom. I repeated my Urdu phrases and started to shove her out of the way. We struggled briefly as she cursed at me and punched my right elbow. She then threw her cleaning bucket into the bathtub and ran away. Sadly, this exchange did arouse me slightly. The benefit was I bought myself several more seconds to lock the outer screen door correctly. I turned towards the toilet and put my penis in my hand. Just as I could start to squeeze the piss out of me, you flung open the curtain to the shower.

I bellowed but could not contain all the piss in my penis hole. Some trickled out onto the floor and toilet seat, but sadly none made it into the toilet. You stood, unashamed, in the bathtub, with my urine-soaked pants on your head. You tossed them to the side and looked upon the scene with an almost childlike naivety and an almost whorelike mischievousness. Even though you were slightly plump, you had a certain aura about you that made you nearly irresistible. You were wearing a white tank top that ended just above your protruding navel, with the shortest sport shorts possible that could still be considered pants. Even with my extreme need to continue urinating, looking at you, with that coquettish look on your face, in this piss-soaked bathroom, so close to my unclothed penis, gave me an erection neither of us could ever forget. You continued to look around the bathroom and focused your attention on a small puddle of piss nearest the carpet. You made a racially insensitive remark and asked me what this small tarn was, as you stepped out the bathtub, exaggerating the movements of your legs, all the while never breaking eye contact with me. I tried to make up an excuse involving prerevolutionary France but as you passed me the edge of your tank top skirted against the very tip of my penis. This slight amount of pure ecstasy left me without the knowledge of language, and I began to imagine you touching my penis with your hands and breasts. You raised your leg like a ballerina and placed it upon me so that your calf was resting on my shoulder. Your bright green eyes carved right through me and I was lost to any other calculation of the universe. You leaned up against me, with the middle of your sport shorts pressed directly on the underside of my shaft. I couldn’t contain myself and ejaculated. My semen came out akin to my piss…energetic, robust, and everlasting. A nearly continuous stream of cum raced out of my penis and onto your clothes, abdomen, face, flip flops, and I could only hope, spirit. I once again spasmed uncontrollably, but this time without the crustacean influence. It was a sexual ecstasy unknown to me, and I felt like it was boundless.

But like all things in the universe, it did cease. When I opened my eyes, I could still see yours, albeit this time, nearly completely covered with my cum. This scene was so arousing I completely forgot about needing to piss. Could your beauty and sexual potency have transformed all my urine into semen? As I pondered this, you removed your leg from my chest and seemed mildly disgusted with the sheer amount of cum you generated from my penis. You opened your mouth to speak but my ejaculate dripped from your eyelashes down into the open orifice. You tasted it with skepticism but seemed generally pleased with the result. You began licking my semen off of the rest of your body and, still all the while looking straight into my eyes and soul, began to swallow as much of my semen as you could get your hands on. You wiped your face, your stomach, your legs, your arms, your buttocks, your arms again, and your genital area, and sensually licked your fingers each time. My eyes grew wider at each pass. But the object of your desire was not my eyes, it was my once again throbbing cock, which also grew wider at each pass. You removed your clothes and kneeled in front of me. There was a think thwok when your knees made contact with the urine and semen-soaked piece of carpet. This seemed to engorge my sexual organs to the point of near bursting. As soon as your lips touched the outer edge of my scrotum, I burst again. This time, you leaped upward to catch all of my apparently delicious ooze in your mouth. Just feeling your tongue around my tip caused me to ejaculate again. This sexual ouroboros like loop continued long into the night. Thankfully I locked the outer door to the bathroom, as my grandmother tried to enter several times. Each time she knocked on the door, you attempted to laugh, but just choked on my cock. But you would not stop, you would not even remove any of the shaft from your mouth. I thought about all the sperm I had pumped into you. I thought that you would literally shit straight semen for four days. This also aroused me and caused me to continue to ejaculate without pause. I thought this state of existence was truly eternal.

Eventually, however, you died, as you were only eating cum perpetually. But nothing could stop my mighty river of sexual fluids and I stood there, with my penis in your corpse until I was turned off when you shat yourself, and it wasn’t just a large column of cum. Once I removed my cock from your lifeless form, that feeling of needing to piss returned. Apparently, cum and urine are not interchangeable from a bodily system perspective. Everything I thought today has turned out to be a lie. Despite that overwhelming disappointment, I did summon the courage to continue to urinate. After two and a quarter more minutes, I finally emptied my bladder of all waste fluids.

The black lady that cleans this bathroom is sure to be displeased.