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Four O’clock on a Friday in early November and it is already dark.

I drove up Karl-Johanssonsgatan and was met by a dazzle of car headlights coming down the opposite side of the street. Red brake lights glowed in front of me casting their glare onto the wet cobblestone surface. Amber-colored streetlights above cast a yellowish glow over the dull concrete sidewalks.

It was a spontaneous idea, perhaps more of an excuse. Stop by the trendy little coffee and tea boutique in Majorna and pick up some of that Irish Cream-flavored tea I liked so much, then see if Ulrika was home.

I pulled my car up alongside the curb about 20 meters down from the shop, which was situated on the corner where Karl-Johanssgatan intersected Kustgatan, a double-laned stretch that cut south then merged on to the motorway where you could join the parade of traffic heading towards Tingstadstunnel. After you emerged from the half-kilometer long pipe, you met the shining metal and glass office buildings of the city center where the big business took place.

For now, I was only interested in buying a small bag of tea, and the prospect of seeing Ulrika. I pulled out my phone and texted her. Told her I was doing some shopping in the neighborhood and would love to see her if she had the time.

I loved the smell of the shop. A warm mix of all the varieties of the coffee and tea delicacies lined up along the walls. Trays of chocolates and other colorful candies were on display in the glass cases by the front counter. I was the only one in the store.

The proprietor, a pleasant middle-aged Persian woman, greeted me from behind the counter. After I told her I wanted some of the Irish Cream tea, she reached for one of the large gold tins in the shelving unit behind her. She pulled off the top and offered me a whiff. I sniffed at the rich chocolate smell and nodded my head in satisfaction.

My phone dinged.

While the woman filled a small paper bag with the tea, I looked at the message from Ulrika:

“Hi, sure just got home…I’d love to see you for a little bit.”

Hmm, only for a little bit. She must have plans tonight. But at least I was going to get to see her.

I paid for the tea, thanked the shopkeeper then left.

Ulrika’s flat was only a few blocks behind the main thoroughfare in a maze of streets full of multi-storied apartment buildings. The neighborhood was a mix of arty types, recent university grads, and immigrant families with small children. I found a parking spot behind a moving van where a group of friends were laughing and joking as they unloaded furniture and cardboard boxes. I assumed from the joviality that someone was moving into their first apartment.

She was still in her work clothes, black slacks and loose white blouse with a wide collar. I had never seen Ulrika dressed up like this before. It ran contrary to the image I had of her as a young, free-spirited anti-establishment type.

“So, how are you?” she asked while walking around the apartment clicking on lights and straightening up. Apparently she hadn’t been home very long.

“Good,” I replied emphatically. “Just get home?”

“Yeah, I got your text just as I was getting off the tram.”

“Oh, sorry for the intrusion.”

“No, not at all.”

She came up to me and threw her arms around me. I held her around her waist. I studied her face. A group of red acne spots were clustered istanbul travesti near the corner of her mouth; a few were dotted on her forehead. I would assume when she left the house this morning, they were covered up with make-up. Her pale blue eyes were as beautiful as ever.

We kissed. Her mouth had the sourness of someone who was tired and hungry. But there was still the faint scent of shampoo in her ash-blonde hair. We dug our tongues into each other’s mouths.

“So, do you want something to drink?” she said, suddenly pulling back from the kiss.

“Sure, what do you have?”


“I’m driving, unfortunately.”

“I have alcohol free.”

“Great, I’ll take one.”

She went to the fridge and pulled out two bottles of alcohol free beer and opened them.

“Here you go,” she said handing me one. I took a drink. Alcohol free beers always tasted a bit strange to me, not entirely convincing. All they did was make me piss without the buzz. But better then water I guess.

“Cheers,” I said raising my bottle to hers. She clinked her bottle to mine then we both took a drink.

We kissed again, but this time the cold beer had washed away the sourness in her mouth leaving behind a pleasant sweetness.

“So, how was work?” I asked.

“Not bad, just trying to understand all this stuff.”

“What stuff is that?”

“Just all the techie stuff.” She took a long drink from her beer then continued, “Who would have ever thought that a liberal arts major would be working for a cutting edge tech firm.”

“Stranger things have happened,” I replied.

“I suppose so,” she shrugged. “But not so strange, I guess. I’m working in public relations and I don’t see any of our engineers having those skills.”

“It takes all kinds.”

“Yep,” she raised her bottle and we performed another toast.

“How was your day?”

“Pretty quiet. Not too many people in the office on Fridays. Kind of nice actually.”

She nodded then took another pull from her beer. We chatted for while and stopped to kiss every now and then. I was getting aroused but it didn’t seem she was interested in sex. When my beer was finished, I set my beer down on the coffee.

“Well, I’ve got to get going. It was nice seeing you.”

She placed her hand on top off the growing bulge in my jeans.

“Here, before you go…” The slow caress of her hand increased my excitement. I felt the ooze of fluid seep from my cock.

She slipped off the sofa then sunk to knees. My heart raced. Her delicate fingers started to unbuckle my belt. I reached down to help her.

“No, I got this,” she reassured me.

I took my hand away. She unsnapped my jeans then pulled down the zipper.

“Looks like someone’s waiting to come out,” she cooed.

I found it interesting how most girls, even a self-proclaimed lesbian like Ulrika, always referred to a guy’s cock like it was a small pet.

“It’s waiting for you.”

“Yes…” she whispered, then grabbed the swollen shaft and pulled it out from the restraint of my underwear.

“I think you missed Ulie, didn’t you?” she said while admiring the thick, vascular length. She shook her head quickly from side to side forcing the strands of hair away from her face then licked the pre-cum from the tip.

I exhaled.

“Yes, Ulie missed you too.”

With long pulls of her tongue, she slathered travesti istanbul it up and down the sides of my shaft covering it with copious quantities of spit. Taking it fully in her hand, she pumped it slowly, her saliva making it nice and slippery. Occasionally she would flick her tongue across the bulbous tip and lap at the seeping stickiness.

I was in such a state of arousal I could have popped right there and then, but sensing this, she backed off giving me a brief pause to let the sensation pass.

“Don’t cum just yet. I think he wants to play a little bit longer.”

My wet, glistening cock bobbed up and down in front of Ulrika’s face, her lips and chin covered in saliva. I wanted so much for her to plunge my cock to be in her warm mouth.

And finally she did.

She took it all in, deep into her throat. Her nose and lips pressed into my pubic hair. The muscles of her throat contracted around my cock, the hardness of the head lodged inside her tightening passage.

Just when I thought she was going to pass out, she pulled up and took a big gulp of air. A glob of phloem hung from her chin.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she panted while wiping her dripping chin. After taking a few more breaths, she lowered her head then resumed sucking.

I came in torrents. She looked up at me with wide blue eyes as she swallowed. When

it was over she lay her head down on my upper thigh while she gently stroked my still hard shaft, her hand sliding easily over the slippery flesh.

Outside a couple was laughing as they passed by the window below. The sound of a car driving slowly down the street. A distant grumble of a bus picking up speed. It was Friday night.

After some minutes Ulrika looked up at me. I can tell she had been thinking of something.

“Shall we?” she asked.

“You mean…?”

“If you can.”


Ulrika struggled to her feet then I stood up. I felt quite ridiculous standing there with my pants down around my ankles.

She headed for the bathroom. I pulled up my pants then followed.

Once in the bathroom she started to strip. First the white blouse then her slacks. She hung them carefully on a hook next to a velvety yellow bathrobe with peace signs on it. She continued to take off her white lace bra then matching panties without a pause.

“What are you waiting for?”she asked, looking up at me.

“Nothing,” I said stupidly.

“I want you naked too.”

I took off my clothes then let them drop to the floor.

She stood there naked. I ran my hands over her milky white flesh then through the fluffy honey-colored hair of her bush. The smell of our bodies filled the small space of the bathroom.

“Don’t start that now, we don’t have much time.”

“Why, do you have a date?”


I backed away from her and let her pass into the shower, a tiled section of the corner

with curtain. I reached down and massaged my cock.

“Can you hand me a towel?” she asked once inside.

“This one?” I grabbed a pale green hand towel from the drying rack on the wall.

“That’ll work,” I’m doing laundry tomorrow anyway.

She set the towel down on the shower floor in a folded up square then knelt down. Her plumb-like breasts with their pale pink nipples swung from the effort. I stepped towards her then aimed my cock at her face. She closed her eyes.

I istanbul travestileri had become aware of the pressure in my bladder right as soon as I got up from the sofa. By the time I had undressed I was ready.

I let go with a hot stream of urine that doused her face then ran down her neck, washed over her tits, then trickled down the rest of her body. The smell of my piss mixed with the musk of our bodies created a corporeal cocktail of scents. Rivers of my liquid formed on the tile floor then ran for the drain.

She opened her mouth taking it in, then stuck out her tongue letting the stream splash over the flattened surface. Then she moved her head from side to side getting all sides of her face.

I didn’t realize how bad I had to piss. Alcohol free beer did that to me every time. The flow kept coming without any signs of diminishing. I aimed at different parts of her body, squirting her shoulders, tits, then her hair. Her ash blonde hair turned to a grayish brown as it became drenched with my urine.

I put my hands on my hips and leaned back a little, letting my cock do its own thing, hanging in an arch discharging the acidic fluid from my inner core onto Ulrika’s pale body. Whatever satisfaction she derived from it, I’ll never know. But whatever it was, she continued to bathe with her eyes closed, turning her body slightly to catch the stream as if she were taking a shower.

I pissed, and I pissed.

Eventually the stream began to lose its power. The arc shortened fading to a series of intermittent squirts that I forced from my near-empty bladder. When it stopped she rubbed her hands all over wet body as if she were slathering on lotion. She massaged her dripping breasts for a bit then let them fall. Running her tongue across her lips she licked at some pee then pulled it into her mouth.

“Mmmm, that was good,” she murmured.

“Do you want to do me now?” I asked.

“Maybe another time, I have a date tonight, remember?”

I nodded my head. This was going to be all for tonight, a blowjob and some pissing.

“I’m just going to shower now, but you don’t need to stay for that.”

That was my cue to leave.


I reached for my clothes on the floor then quickly got dressed.

“Can you drop this in the sink for me?” she asked with an exaggerated smile while handing me the piss-soaked towel that she had used as a kneeling pad.

I returned her smile then plopped the towel into the sink. Then I washed my hands.

I heard the sound of rushing water as I left the bathroom. Just as I was walking across her apartment and approached the door to leave, she called out, “Thank you for stopping by! Call me again sometime.”

“I will,” I replied. As I reached for the door handle I glanced briefly at the silk Pride flag hanging on the inside of the door, then exited into the dimly lit foyer. There was the smell of cooking from the other units in the building. Curry, garlic, and other exotic scents.

I knew she was meeting Johanna tonight. I pictured them eating each other’s pussies. Most likely they would spend the night together, something that she has not yet allowed me to. But I doubt she ever let Johanna piss on her.

I began a slow walk to the car down the dark streets closed in by the flat featureless facades of apartment buildings. Every now and then I would try to catch a glimpse of the life inside the lighted windows and lamented that Ulrika would be spending tonight with someone else. I had come to accept that wasn’t my role.

I was just someone with whom she could explore her twisted fantasies with. I guess everyone needed someone like that, including me.

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