Ilya springing piss kink on shane, they're laying there post fuck and ilya is still inside him because Shane doesn't like to be empty and ilya needs to piss and has a sudden horrible idea. He just releases himself into Shane and Shane is so humiliated and embarrassed and turned on that Ilya would do this to him.
Me luring people in to the wonders of piss kink while also building my own harem of piss enjoyers:
Anon you are speaking music to my ears! Shane and Ilya stumbling into new kinks is my absolute favourite for them. Like they have no clue what they're doing but 'fuck that was hot. we have to do that again. and not question what it means. at. all.' And then, dear reader, I was possessed:
For Shane, the filthier a kink is...the hotter he gets about it. That's just part of his shame thing. He should Not be getting turned on by the fact that Ilya has just pissed inside him and he can feel the warmth of it filling him up, the pressure building inside him. As Ilya finally finishes draining his bladder he pulls out, breaking the seal, and a fucked up mess of cum and piss bubbles and sprays out of Shane's ass, dribbling down his thighs and all over the bed. And Ilya. Who is now hard again. Shane is bright red and panting, the humiliation washing over him and taking away his words. He whines high in his throat like a wounded animal. He wants so bad to be angry or annoyed or anything else toward Ilya that's not burning desire. Ilya had moaned throughout it, as if it was the best feeling he'd ever felt. "I'm sorry Shane," he'd gasped. "I have to. Can't hold it. Feels so good." Shane feels very conflicted because he likes doing things that make Ilya feel good, would do anything for him really. But this was truly so fucked up.
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He starts getting Weird about it, as Shane often does with things he doesn't understand. He finds himself standing outside the bathroom, listening through the door to hear Ilya pissing. And as the toilet flushes he scurries away, busying himself with whatever task he can find. It progresses over the course of a week. Shane starts coming into the bathroom while Ilya is still using it. He flurries in with that air of familiarity and intimacy that comes with a long term relationship. He's never done this before though. But now, there always seems to be a load of washing that needs to be done and their towels absolutely need to go in, and no it can't wait. Or a random item has gone missing and it always mysteriously turns up in the bathroom. As if it's the last place he can think to look Shane just wanders in with a frown on his face, scanning every corner of the room until oh what a surprise, there is the missing thing! It becomes a more frequent occurrence, with Shane just popping in all the time to ask Ilya random questions like if he wants milk in his coffee, which he always does. And sometimes he'll just sit himself up on the bench beside the sink and babble away about some random hockey news, as if it simply couldn't wait. And every single time his eyes are furtively glancing at where Ilya is standing over the toilet, holding the base of his thick cock in his hand as a steady stream of clear hydrated piss is leaking into the bowl below.
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Ilya is used to his husband being a little weird sometimes. Most of the time it just means he's processing something in his own way and he'll come to Ilya when he has it all figured out. Ilya loves watching and waiting, the suspense of it excites him. It happens on a lazy Saturday during their summer break. They're rewatching old hockey games from their rookie season, reminiscing. Ilya stands up and starts to leave the room. Shane turns his head to ask where he's going. "Just going for a piss Shane. What, you want to come with? You will get lonely?" Shane pauses and looks at the floor, "Yeah, I might." Ilya hears the shake in his voice and he knows they're close. Close to Shane asking for what he wants. Ilya heads to the bathroom, Shane following a couple steps behind. He stands at the toilet and looks at Shane, "Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Ask me, Shane."
"I don't know what you mean." Shane is breathing hard, eyes averted to Ilya's crotch. He does not have a subtle bone in his body. Ilya grins. "What do you want, malysh?"
Shane closes his eyes for a moment and swallows before stammering out, "C-can I...hold it? W-while you go? Please?"
"Since you asked so nicely, yes, you can. You will be my good boy and help me so I don't make a mess all over the floor. We would not want that, would we Shane?"
"N-no. That would be -uh bad. So much um- cleaning to do."
Ilya pulls his cock out of his sweatpants and wills it to not get hard so he can actually piss. He positions himself in front of the bowl and waits. Shane licks his lips and clears his throat before reaching a tentative hand out to grip at the base of Ilya's cock. His hand is warm and soft, the callouses disappearing over their summer break. Shane is staring intently at the tip of Ilya's dick, as if he's willing the piss to start flowing with his mind and he doesn't want to miss the moment it starts. Ilya sighs as he slowly starts to release, short spurts of warm piss splashing into the bowl before turning into a steady stream. Shane is transfixed. His eyes are glued to the light golden liquid now tapering off and dribbling out of Ilya's dick. Ilya pats the back of Shane's neck smoothing his hand over his hair. "Ok baby," he murmurs, "Give it a little shake for me." Shane complies, still not meeting Ilya's eye, his face flushed pink. He tears off a square of toilet paper, gently dabbing Ilya's tip before flushing the toilet and quickly tucking him back in his pants. Shane turns to go wash his hands when Ilya grabs his wrist to stop him. "What do you say malysh?" He tilts Shane's chin up until his eyes meet the dark glimmering pools of brown belonging to his husband. He quirks an eyebrow up and Shane mumbles out, "Thank you."
"See? It is much better when you ask for what you want, yes?" Shane nods his head as best he can with Ilya still gripping his chin. Ilya pats his cheek twice before walking out of the room.
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Ilya wonders how far Shane will take this. He's still acting shifty, making up flimsy excuses to be around Ilya while he's pissing. He even encourages Ilya to piss outside while they're on a hike and he stares the whole time, cheeks pink and mouth open. Shane has also started to pushing bottles of water into Ilya's hands, reminding him of the importance of staying hydrated. He tells Ilya it's optimal for them to drink four litres a day as high performance athletes. It's making Ilya piss like a fucking horse. The next time something happens Ilya isn't fully expecting it. They're working out in their home gym. Ilya is rotating through sets of weights while Shane is trying to hit a new record on the stationary bike. Ilya had thought that Shane was too preoccupied and wouldn't notice if he quickly ran off to use the bathroom without him. He was wrong.
Shane had forfeited what was shaping up to be his new personal best to instead rush after Ilya in the direction of the bathroom. He came to a sudden stop in the doorway, narrowly avoiding a collision with his husband who stood there with his arms crossed over his broad chest. "Going somewhere, Shane?" Ilya raised an eyebrow at his husband standing in front of him, panting, sweaty and flushed, perhaps from more than his intense workout. "O-oh uh, just needed to use the bathroom. I-I- I thought you were going to the kitchen." Shane stumbled over his words, clearly nervous. Ilya's spine tingled. Finally. He had been waiting for Shane to get up the nerve to try again, to ask for more. Now here he was, blushing and stammering and pretending he needed to use the toilet. Ilya knew he was pretending because Shane always used the toilet before his workout so his routine wouldn't be interrupted. Ilya was very curious now.
"Um- do you need the toilet too?" Shane asks, twisting his fingers into the hem of his shirt. "Yes Shane. Is why I am here." Ilya stares him down, making him squirm even more. "Oh. Uh, do you wanna go first?" Ilya is feeling particularly evil and decides to call Shane's bluff. "Is ok baby. You go first. I will wait like good husband." Shane huffs out a breath, then chews at his lip before walking past Ilya into the bathroom. He turns back around quickly, blurting out, "Or you could- while, I mean, um. We could-" Shane gestures between the toilet and himself, praying that Ilya will connect the dots. Ilya flicks his gaze between the toilet and Shane, slow and calculating. If he makes the wrong move he could startle Shane and lose all of this progress. "What do you want Shane?" Ilya asks, his voice soft and deep, "Show me."
He watches as Shane toes off his reeboks, moving closer towards the toilet before pulling his shorts down and kicking them to the side. Ilya raises a brow as Shane's shirt follows too. They maintain eye contact as Shane sits down on the toilet, palms flat on his thighs. Ilya's gaze roams over the expanse of smooth skin before him. It's enough to get his dick excited but he wills it down, knowing it soon needs to perform in other ways that require it to not be hard. Shane tilts his head, gesturing for Ilya to come closer. He moves to stand directly in front of Shane who is looking up at Ilya through his eyelashes, big brown eyes pleading with him. Ilya places two fingers underneath Shane's chin, tilting his head back further as he leans down to whisper in his ear, "Where?" A shiver runs through Shane at the low rumble of Ilya's voice.
Ilya taps a finger against Shane's bottom lip, "Here?" Shane gasps softly but shakes his head once, no. The finger rails down Shane's throat, between his collarbones to stop between his pecs. "Here?" Another shake, no. Ilya continues down Shane's body stopping again at the dark hair just below his navel. Unprompted, Shane jerks his head slightly to the left and Ilya smirks. Oh, he's so close. Shane is trembling on the toilet seat, hands now gripping onto his thighs. Ilya lifts his hand away and stands up straight again. Shane whines at the distance, his eyes already glistening with unshed tears of frustration. "Please," he whispers. "Where, Shane?" Ilya's voice is low and demanding, trying to break through the last layer of Shane's restraint.
Shane lets out a whimper and then parts his thighs, revealing his slowly hardening cock and now, a small gap into the toilet bowl. "You think i can aim that well, Shane? Such a tiny space when I am used to the whole toilet. What if I miss and make a mess?" Ilya is playing with him like a piece of meat now. Shane grits out through clenched teeth and shallow breaths, " 'S ok. Y' can." Ilya smiles down at him, "So sweet for me baby. I will do my best not to make a mess." He pushes the waistband of his shorts down underneath his balls and grips his cock firmly at the base. He gives it a slow stroke and flicks the tip, just to tease Shane. His pupils are blown so wide and his mouth looks so wet. Ilya can't wait to ruin him even more. But right now he has to focus, breathing deeply as he relaxes into his body.
The first drops slip easily between the gap in Shane's thighs and into the water below. Shane is staring at Ilya's tip again, focused intently on watching the beads of liquid forming there. As the stream becomes steady, Ilya makes an obvious effort to aim it into the gap, not letting a drop touch Shane's skin. Shane whines and thrusts his hips forward, almost as if he's going to close his thighs altogether. Ilya coos at him, "Did you want something baby?" His other hand comes up to caress Shane's cheek. "You know you just have to ask." Shane scrunches his eyes up and grits out, "M-my cock. Ilya, p-please!" He's frantic now at the idea that Ilya could finish before Shane gets what he wants. It makes him desperate. He gasps in a deep breath and shudders as he lets it out. "Please Ilya! Please piss on my cock."
Ilya lets out a groan and shifts his hand on his cock, tilting it up to let his stream fall directly on Shane's cock, and drip down his balls. Shane moans at the sensation of the warm piss on his skin, gaze intent as he watches his lower half get soaked. The dark patch of hair above his cock starts to curl as droplets of piss catch in it, glistening under the light. He feels filthy, used and like he's never been harder in his life. Ilya concentrates on keeping his aim on Shane's cock, but he's also mesmerised by the way the piss shines as it rolls down Shane's body, collecting in the crease where his hips and thighs meet before dribbling into the toilet with soft plinks. Eventually Ilya's stream begins to die down and he gives his cock a shake to let the last drops fall. He wipes his tip clean, slipping the toilet paper between Shane's thighs, into the bowl, and tucks his cock back away. Ilya reaches behind Shane to push the flush button, kissing him on the forehead as he does. "My very special toilet. My favourite. So good for me," he murmurs into Shane's ear.
Shane is still flushed and panting but he breathes out a, "Thank you Ilya, thank you." He looks down at his wet cock and grimaces, "Sticky." Ilya laughs and gently pulls him to his feet, leading him to the shower. "Come, malysh. Let's get you all cleaned up." He quickly strips off his own clothes as the water warms up and then huddles Shane under the spray. Ilya takes his time washing Shane's hair and scrubbing his body clean until he's all pink and glowing. He bundles them up in two huge fluffy towels and leads Shane to bed. Ilya drifts off to sleep with a smile on his face. Shane's nose is tucked into his neck, and he breathes in the scent of his clean hair, dreaming of when he inevitably wakes up to Shane scrubbing the bathroom from floor to ceiling with clorox, mumbling under his breath with a blush high on his cheeks.