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The Stranger's Cigarette Lighter. A Phallic Symbol?
Two drunk girls caught peeing chat up a passing young man by asking for a light.

Piss Drinking Story By John Martin

"C'mon Shaz, let's get outta here or we'll never get home". Tracey was pulling Sharon's arm in an effort to pull her towards the door of the nightclub. But Sharon was more interested in checking the guy's phone number, not easy with hardcore techno blasting out from massive speaker stacks only a few feet away. "Put him down Shaz, you don't know where's he's been!" With that, Tracey finally succeeded, and they both headed towards the door.

All five girls staggered out of Club Marina together. It had been a good night, especially for Sharon who'd nearly scored. But there were rules to be followed. On Girls' Night Out, they all arrived together and they all left together. Whatever happened in between. They always preferred to leave half an hour before the club closed to make sure they could get a taxi back to Helen's place. She had a really kewl stereo and there was plenty more partying to be done!

As usual, they headed towards the back lane which led to the taxi rank near the railway station. Everyone else went to the nearest one, just round the corner from Club Marina. But the queue was always a mile long there; by contrast the one near the station was nearly always deserted. It took a bit longer to walk to, but they'd never had to wait more than a couple of minutes for a cab.

They made their noisy, erratic way down the lane: by day a normally busy delivery road for the shopping centre, but always deserted at night. As usual Sue had drunk far too much; she could hardly walk. She was clinging hard onto Debbie's arm, who wasn't much better. They passed a side alley leading to the back of a department store.

"Hang on, I need a wee!" said Helen, who was never very organised about these things and always seemed to need a wee. There was no-one else in the lane, so she squatted down over the gutter, pulled her panties over to one side, and a silvery stream emerged from between her legs, lit by the street lamp. All the girls were giggling and pushing her. "Aw, fuck off Trace," she said, "I don't wanna get me shoes wet. Keep a look out for me, will ya?"

"Oh Christ, someone's coming!", said Sharon. "Yeah, yeah, very funny. Pull the other one it's got bells on". But this time Sharon wasn't joking. Turning into the end of the lane and heading their way was a fella. Helen was beginning to panic. "Shit, I can't stop! Well stand in front of me will ya, I don't want him to see me, you fucking cunts." The girls dutifully stood in front of Helen and pretended to shield her. But they weren't trying too hard.

Within seconds the young man drew level with them, oblivious to what was going on. He kept on walking. He'd just finished his late shift at the sorting office, he was tired and he was on his way home. As he passed them, Tracey shouted out.

"Hey, my mate fancies you!". He turned slightly, blushed, but carried on walking. "Just a minute, have you got a light?" said Debbie, who had managed to fish a ciggie out of her bag and was waving it expectantly in the air. The young man did smoke and without thinking pulled his cigarette lighter out of his left pocket and stopped. Debbie made no attempt to move, so the young man flicked the lighter, a flame appeared and he stepped towards her.

"I'll do that, if you don't mind", said Debbie, taking his lighter from him and lighting her fag. The young man looked worried. The lighter was very special to him, being a present from his very first girlfriend, nearly five years earlier. He had never handed it to anyone else. "Please be careful with that", he said, not taking his eyes from it. He reached his hand out, but Debbie drew back.

"Oh, it's valuable is it?", she said, tauntingly. She examined its long slim silvery lines and read out the initials inscribed in the bottom. "'P.J.N.' - is that you then?". The young man was looking irritated now. "Ye-yes, now can I have it back please?". "Okay, but only if you tell me what they stand for." The young man bit his lip. "Okay, Paul Nellist, now can I have it back?".

"And the 'J'?", said Debbie, enjoying her power over him. Paul blushed a little and said softly, "Julian, if you really must know." He extended his hand again and Debbie threw the lighter over his head across to Sue, shouting "Catch!". He was getting visibly worried now. He turned and stepped towards Sue who backed away, revealing Helen still squatting down hoping somehow that she wouldn't be seen. But it was too late. She cursed. She'd never been seen taking a pee before, and she was pretending to get annoyed. But in reality she was also becoming slightly turned on by all this. But Paul had hardly noticed her, his mind intent on getting his lighter back.

He stepped towards Sue again and reached out to her. She immediately threw it over to Helen, who by now had managed to stand up, her panties still pulled to one side. "Quick, hide it!" said Debbie. Helen gazed at its smooth, silvery lines and had an idea. Without saying a word, she opened her labia with her left hand and eased the lighter into her vagina. She pushed it all the way in, pulled her panties back in place, and pulled down her skirt.

All the girls stood and hooted in unison. "She's only pushed it up her cunt, the clever bitch!", said Debbie, who wished she'd thought of that.

Paul was still staring in disbelief at what he'd just seen. Perhaps he was having a bad dream and he'd wake up soon? Did he really just witness seeing his cherished lighter get swallowed up by that girl's cunt?

Helen looked at him straight between the eyes and said, "Why don't you get it back, Julian?". The girls all collapsed into gales of laughter as they formed a circle around him. This was all getting too much for Sue who had started wetting herself. She was pressing the top of her pubic bone hard and staring straight ahead, her face contorted in concentration. They could see she was desperate. Debbie whispered something into Helen's ear, who promptly let out a yelp of joy and nodded vigorously.

"Julian, if you ever want to see your valuable lighter again, you're going to have to do something for us. Right? It's very easy; all you have to do is lie down on the floor. Well? What are you waiting for??". Paul looked at her pleadingly. He had no idea what they had in mind, he just wanted to get his lighter and get out of there. "And then you'll return my lighter?". "Of course we will", said Debbie, giggling. "Now, onto the floor!"

Dutifully, Paul lay face down. Debbie grabbed hold of his arms, pulled them over his back and sat on him. She was a big lass, and Paul let out a moan as her full weight dropped on him. Helen whispered something into Sue's ear, whose eyes bulged open. "On his HEAD?", said Sue, now ready to burst. Helen nodded, "Yeah, why not? He can't do anything about it!"

Before she could argue Sue felt another spurt of pee escape from between her legs. She could hold on no longer, so she squatted down over his head and a torrent of pee erupted from her panties. She was so desperate (and drunk) there was no time to take them off. The pee dribbled onto Paul's hair and over his head, round to his face. He moaned softly, "Aw no, no, no. Please not that..." as he realised what she was doing to him. Her pee formed a puddle underneath his nose and mouth. He lifted his head to stop himself from drowning in the stuff. It seemed to go on for minutes, although it was only about 20 seconds in reality. He felt thoroughly humiliated and just wanted to crawl away and die. But at least his ordeal was over. Or so he thought.

As the final few drops fell onto his hair, Sue realised she was now very wet. She stood up and stepped over him grabbing onto Helen's arm while she removed her now soaking panties. Not easy when you're that drunk. Meanwhile, Tracey was now realising that she was getting quite desperate too. But how could she possibly improve on Sue's performance?

"Turn him over", she said to Debbie, who was still firmly gripping him between her thighs. Together they carefully turned him onto his back, making sure he couldn't get his arms out. Debbie's muscular legs made sure of that. "Aw look, he's all wet. Maybe we should dry his face off?". Sue immediately understood and buried his face in her now sopping wet panties. He tried to move his head but Sharon used her feet to clamp his head firmly in place. She pushed down on the panties which were now firmly in place over his nose and mouth. He began to suffocate.

It was up to Tracey to take charge. "Don't smother the bastard, you daft cunt!", she said, pushing Sharon away. She tossed Sue's wet panties onto the road. "Not until he's had a little drink anyway!".

Paul was now looking petrified, but none of the girls even noticed. They were too wrapped up in their piss games to notice. Within seconds Tracey had her panties off and was standing directly over his head, which was still held firmly in place by Sharon's feet. He had no choice but to look directly up. Slowly, tantalisingly slowly, she squatted down, lowering her cunt until it was only centimetres away from his mouth. She stayed there for what seemed like ages.

Meanwhile Debbie had turned her attention to the bulge she felt growing underneath her. She decided to investigate, so she unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock. It was definitely hardening and there seemed no point in wasting it. That's the only good use to put a man to. She moved her panties over to one side, guided his glans between her glistening cunt lips, and fell viciously down onto it.

Paul opened his mouth and let out an agonised shriek. At that precise moment, Tracey's cunt lips magically parted, a small circular dot appeared deep in the folds of her sex, and a thick column of hot clear piss appeared and drilled deep into the back of his throat. Her aim was immaculate. The shriek immediately turned into a faint gurgling sound as his mouth quickly filled up with with Tracey's pee. She held his nose closed and so he had no choice but to swallow the vile stuff. He opened his mouth and gasped for air. Instead he was rewarded with another mouthful of piss, some of which he swallowed, the rest ending up in his lungs.

Meanwhile Debbie was developing a rhythm and was gradually approaching an orgasm. She hadn't had a fuck for ages, and since she had a captive bloke, it seemed pointless to waste the chance. Debbie was using him as a human dildo, Tracey was using him as a human toilet. And meanwhile his prized lighter remained deeply buried between Helen's legs, hidden deep in her cunt. The other girls looked on as Tracey gradually relieved her aching bladder into his gasping mouth and Debbie's man- hungry cunt nearly tore his cock to shreds. As she climaxed viciously, her vaginal muscles contracting painfully onto his now sore cock head, she let out a victorious scream of orgasmic joy.

Paul was fighting for breath. Debbie released her grip and stood up. Sharon moved her feet to free his head and Tracey stepped away too, her wet cunt still dripping pee. He rolled over onto his stomach and coughed, gasping for air. They had nearly drowned him in piss.

Suddenly, the enormity of what they had nearly done hit them all. "Christ, Trace, you've nearly drowned the bastard. Let's get out of here before someone comes." Without another word they all ran off up the street and headed for the railway station. Within a minute they had found a taxi and had all piled into the back of it.

"Jeez, Trace, you very nearly killed the bugger. Supposing he reports us?". "Don't worry, he didn't really get a look at us. And unless they've started putting cunts on identity parades, there's no chance he'll be able to pick us out. Relax." They all laughed out loud. The taxi sped off and Helen felt something uncomfortable between her legs. In all the excitement she'd completely forgotten about the lighter. She slipped a hand under her skirt and squeezed her muscles. The lighter gradually oozed out far enough for her to grab hold of the end and pull it out.

She held it up for all the girls to see. It was very wet with her cunt juices. She tried to produce a flame, but the flint wouldn't even produce a spark. "You see, that's the trouble with posh lighters, they just don't work", she said, tossing it carelessly out of the window and onto the road. They all laughed as the cab disappeared into the night.- The End -

Copyright 1997 by John Martin. All Rights Reserved.

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