Lesbian Sluts get Naughty with Piss- Golden Shower Story by Salty Vixen

The frat house on Maple Street was already a sex party when Natasha pushed through the front door. Red cups lined the rail. A dare wheel sat on the beer-pong table in the front room, clicking every few minutes when someone spun it. Couches had been shoved to the walls. A girl in a cheer skirt was on her knees between two guys on the big couch, mouth full, his hand in her hair, the room half watching and half talking over the bass. On the recliner a couple was fucking with her costume top shoved up and his pants at his ankles. Masks, cheap capes, the smell of beer and sweat. Somebody yelled that the wheel had landed on body shot. A brunette lay back on the table. A guy poured beer between her breasts and licked it off while the house counted.

Natasha was still in workout clothes. Sports bra, black shorts, hair knotted at the nape, gym bag on her shoulder. She had come from the campus gym and walked into the party because Mia had texted that the basement was open and the board was already written. Mia found her by the stairs, brown hair loose, tank top stuck to her back. Lauren was with her, taller, hair up, a bottle of gin taken off the party bar tucked under one arm.

“House rule,” Lauren said, nodding at the wheel and the couch. “We stay for one round up here. Then the dare downstairs is ours.”

They stayed. A guy from the porch handed Natasha the hose of the beer funnel. She drank until her eyes watered and wiped her mouth on her wrist. Mia did a body shot off a pledge’s stomach, salt on the skin, lime after, then looked at Lauren with her tongue still out. Lauren let a boy in a plastic mask titfuck her over the neckline of her tank for the length of one song. She held her breasts together around his cock, stroked him with the soft weight of them, and stared at Natasha the whole time. When he finished on her chin she wiped it with a bar towel and jerked her head toward the kitchen.

“Done. Basement.”

The sex party did not stop. They left the basement door open a crack on purpose so the frat house came down the stairs with them: the wheel clicking, the cheer-skirt girl moaning, a chant when the next dare hit, bass through the floor. The gym lights were on. Mirrors ran the wall. Mats, bench, pull-up bar, squat rack. Mia wiped the whiteboard and wrote the line they had agreed on before the party.

Loser drinks whatever the winners make. Horny brunettes enjoy some piss cocktails. No spilling. Tits stay out. Hands stay in until we say.

“Workout first,” Lauren said. “Pull-ups. First one who drops loses. Winner picks the hole. Other winner picks where we piss.”

Natasha jumped for the bar. Upstairs someone laughed. She got nine clean reps. On the tenth her chin barely cleared and her arms shook out. She dropped. Mia managed eleven, grunting, tank riding up so the bottoms of her breasts showed. Lauren did twelve and let go smiling, sweat already running between her tits.

“Bench.”

Natasha lay back. The vinyl was warm from the lights. Lauren swung a leg over and sat on her thighs. It started as the cooldown they always pretended it was. Thumbs in the calves, then the quads, then higher, under the shorts, pressing the soft inner muscle until Natasha’s breath changed. Lauren hooked the waistband and dragged the shorts and the soaked underwear down in one pull. The smell of Natasha’s cunt hit the air between them, sharp and sweet under the beer smell drifting from the party. Lauren pushed the sports bra up and off. Natasha’s breasts spilled free, heavy, undersides shiny with sweat, nipples tight and dark.

Mia knelt. She took the left breast in both hands, lifted the weight of it, and closed her mouth over the nipple. Her tongue circled hard, then flattened and dragged. She switched, sucking the right one deep enough that her cheeks hollowed, then pressed both breasts together and licked the sweat from the crease, nose buried, spit already slicking the skin.

“Titfuck,” Lauren said. She stripped her own bra. Her breasts hung full, nipples flushed from the mask boy upstairs and from this. She climbed higher until she straddled Natasha’s ribs and gathered Natasha’s face between them, smothering her. “Open your mouth.”

Natasha opened. Lauren fed her the left nipple, then rocked so the right dragged across her tongue, wet and salt. She squeezed her own tits around Natasha’s cheeks and fucked forward in short strokes, the soft weight sliding, Natasha’s tongue working whichever nipple landed in her mouth. Mia kept sucking lower, mouth leaving the breasts shiny, then moving down the stomach. Two fingers pushed into Natasha’s cunt with no warning. She was soaked enough that they went to the knuckle. Mia curled them, found the spot, and put her mouth on the clit, tongue flat and greedy. Eat pussy. That was the whole of what she did next, licking up and down, then sucking the hood between her lips while her fingers fucked in and out.

Natasha’s hips jerked off the bench. Lauren pinched both of Natasha’s nipples while she titfucked her face, rolling them, pulling until Natasha groaned into her breast. Mia added a third finger. The stretch made a wet sound loud enough to hear under the bass from the frat party. “She’s dripping on the vinyl,” Mia said against her cunt, and kept eating her.

Lauren lifted off Natasha’s face. A string of spit connected her nipple to Natasha’s lip and broke. She stood on the bench, one foot on either side of Natasha’s head, and spread her cunt with two fingers. The lips parted, pink and swollen, clit already out.

The sensual massage turns into kinky lesbian pissing the second she lets go.

“Dare starts now. Mouth open. Don’t spill.”

The piss hit Natasha’s tongue hot and bitter-sharp, a hard stream that filled her mouth in two seconds. Natasha swallowed, throat working, and the next pulse overflowed. It ran from the corners of her mouth, down her cheeks, into her hair, onto the breasts Mia had just sucked. Lauren aimed lower on purpose and striped both tits, the stream breaking over the nipples, pooling in the cleavage when Mia reached up and pushed the breasts together to catch it. Natasha kept her mouth open. Lauren pissed the rest straight in, watching her swallow, then shook the last drops onto her tongue.

“Good slut,” Lauren said. She stepped down, cunt still glistening. “Mia. Her tits. I’ll open her up.”

Mia stood over Natasha’s chest, held her lips apart, and released a slower stream across both breasts. It sheeted over the nipples and ran off the sides. Lauren caught a palmful and tipped it into Natasha’s mouth. Natasha drank from her hand and licked the fingers after. Mia pissed in pulses until her thighs trembled, Lauren squeezing the tits up into the stream so the nipples sat in it. When Mia finished she dropped to her knees and sucked a nipple clean, teeth grazing, then kissed Natasha and pushed the taste into her mouth with her tongue.

Lauren wrote the next line on the board with a wet finger while her other hand worked. Lesbian sluts get naughty with piss.

She had four fingers in Natasha’s cunt, twisting, the rim stretching shiny around her knuckles. “She can take the fist. Hold her.”

Mia pinned Natasha’s wrists above her head and kept her mouth on the tits, piss and spit mixing on the skin. Lauren tucked her thumb, narrowed her hand, and pressed. The widest part of the knuckles met resistance. Natasha’s stomach tensed. Lauren fucked the four fingers deeper, pulled almost out, pushed again, spit shining on her wrist even though slick already ran down onto the bench. On the fourth push the hand slid in to the wrist. Natasha’s back arched. Her cunt clenched hard around the intrusion. Lauren held still, then fucked her with the fist in short thick strokes, the party noise from upstairs rolling over the wet sound of it.

“Take it. You lost the bar. This is the drink you earned.”

Mia left the breasts and sucked the clit while Lauren’s wrist moved. Natasha came with her heels braced on the bench edges, thighs shaking, a gush forcing out around Lauren’s hand and running down her ass. Lauren stayed seated until the spasms eased, then eased out. Her hand shone. Mia licked the knuckles clean, then licked Natasha’s cunt, tongue pushing in where the fist had been.

Lauren reached for the plastic cup on the rack. A splash of the party gin was already in it. She straddled the cup and pissed into it, the stream loud against the plastic, filling it halfway. Mia added hers, standing wide, one hand on Lauren’s shoulder, some of it missing and hitting Lauren’s thigh. Lauren wiped that up with two fingers and sucked them. She held the cup to Natasha’s mouth.

“Horny brunettes enjoy some piss cocktails. All of it. Hands behind your back.”

Natasha knelt on the mat. She put her wrists behind her. Lauren tipped the cup. The cocktail hit warm, mixed, gin-bitter under the salt of both of them. She swallowed in three long gulps. A line escaped down her chin onto her breasts. Mia licked it off the sternum, then the nipple, then kissed her with it still on her tongue. Upstairs the dare wheel clicked again. Somebody cheered.

Lauren lay back on the second mat, knees up and open, one heel hooked on a dumbbell so she stayed spread. Her cunt was flushed dark, clit swollen. “Both of you. Eat me. When I piss, you share it. Nothing hits the mat unless you lick it up after.”

The messy lesbian piss orgy with Natasha started there and did not stop.

Natasha crawled between Lauren’s thighs and put her mouth on her. Lauren tasted like sweat and the sharp edge of her own piss still on the lips. Natasha licked the slit, slow, then sucked the clit and flicked it with her tongue. Mia knelt beside her, one hand full of Lauren’s breast, rolling the nipple, pulling it, the other hand sliding under Natasha to push two fingers back into her soaked cunt and fuck her while she ate. Lauren held off as long as she could. Her stomach tightened. She grabbed Natasha’s hair.

“Now. Mouth open.”

The stream hit Natasha’s tongue and chin. She swallowed what she could and turned her head so the rest poured into Mia’s waiting mouth. They kissed through it, sloppy, piss running down both chins onto Lauren’s stomach. Lauren kept pissing, aiming at their mouths, then lower so it striped her own cunt and they had to lick it off her. Natasha sucked the clit while the last pulses hit her forehead and ran into her eyes. She did not stop. Mia caught the runoff on her tongue and fed it back to Natasha in a wet kiss. Lauren came with her hips bucking, thighs clamping, a thin aftershock of piss that Mia licked off the mat without being told.

They flipped Mia onto her back. Natasha straddled her face and lowered her cunt onto Mia’s mouth. Mia’s tongue pushed in, drinking the slick. Natasha ground down, breasts swaying, and let go. The stream flooded Mia’s mouth. Mia swallowed, choked, swallowed, hands gripping Natasha’s ass and pulling her down harder so she had to take it. Piss ran from the corners of Mia’s mouth into her hair and onto the mat. Lauren knelt behind Natasha and worked her whole hand back into her cunt while she pissed, the fist sliding easier this time, fucking her in time with the grind of her hips. She scooped a palmful from Mia’s cheek, smeared it over Natasha’s ass, and pushed two wet fingers into her ass while the fist stayed in her cunt. Natasha came again, shorter and sharper, pissing the last of it down Mia’s throat. She lifted off and kissed the mess off Mia’s face, tasting herself and Mia and the cocktail still on both their tongues.

Mia wanted the fist. They put her on the bench, legs up and hooked over Lauren’s shoulders, cunt open under the gym lights, the open basement door still leaking the frat party into the room. Natasha knelt at her cunt. Four fingers first, twisting, spitting, then the thumb, then the slow push. Mia’s cunt gripped and fluttered. She breathed in hitches and told them not to stop. When the knuckles passed she swore and grabbed her own breasts, squeezing hard, nipples between her fingers. Lauren stood over her face and pissed into her open mouth in a controlled stream, one hand milking her own breast as if she could force more out. Mia swallowed around the sounds she was making. Natasha fucked her with the fist, wrist deep, grinding the heel of her hand against the clit. Mia came with piss spilling from her lips down her neck, cunt clamping so tight Natasha had to hold still, and a squirt of her own wetness that hit Natasha’s chest and ran between her breasts.

They built the bowl after that, standing over it in turn. Lauren pissed first, then Mia, then Natasha, who had to be fingered to push the last of it out. The bowl was warm and cloudy, party gin still faint at the edge. Horny brunettes enjoy some piss cocktails. They passed it. Natasha drank a mouthful and kissed it into Mia. Mia kissed it into Lauren. Lauren swallowed, laughed, and poured the rest over Natasha’s breasts. Both of them pushed the tits together and sucked the cocktail out of the crease, noisy, tongues chasing every runnel down to the nipples. Then they titfucked her face between them, breasts pressed to breasts, piss-slick, Natasha’s tongue out for whichever nipple they fed her, the head of Lauren’s clit bumping her lip on every stroke.

Upstairs the sex party got louder. Someone tried the basement door, saw it was only cracked, and left when Lauren told them the gym was closed. The cheer-skirt girl’s moan carried down anyway. None of the three stopped.

Lauren lay back and pulled Natasha onto her mouth, drinking what she could still wring out of her, while Mia knelt behind Natasha and slid her fist back in. Natasha’s breasts hung in Lauren’s hands. Lauren pinched the nipples, licked piss off the skin between pinches, and sucked the clit every time Mia’s wrist drove forward. Natasha came with her forehead on the mat and both their names in her mouth.

They rotated. Mia on all fours, Lauren underneath licking her clit and drinking the small helpless bursts Natasha fucked out of her with a fist from behind. Natasha’s free hand reached under and squeezed Mia’s swinging breast, then fed two piss-wet fingers into Mia’s mouth. Mia sucked them and came, cheek on the wet vinyl, Lauren swallowing under her. Lauren took her turn on her back with Natasha’s fingers in her ass and Mia’s fist in her cunt, the bowl tipped over her chest so she drank from her own skin, eyes open, looking at Natasha in the mirror. She came saying their names in the order she wanted them next.

The orgy did not clean itself into separate acts. It stayed messy. Natasha on her back with both of them over her, Mia pissing into her mouth, Lauren pissing across her breasts, the two streams crossing on her stomach. She swallowed what she could. The rest coated her. When they were empty they lay down on either side and licked her clean in long passes — breasts, stomach, thighs, cunt — trading kisses over her clit until she came again, weaker, one hand in each of their hair. Mia wanted another mouthful and got it when Lauren pissed a last thin stream into her cupped hands and made her drink, then kissed her so Natasha could taste it third. They titfucked again because Lauren liked the look of Natasha’s face trapped between piss-wet breasts. They fisted again because Mia asked, on the mat this time, Natasha’s hand inside her, Lauren’s mouth on her clit, the frat-party bass lining up with the thrust until Mia sobbed and came and laughed in the same breath.

The bowl emptied twice. The mats were ruined. The mirror fogged to the edges. The whiteboard dare was smeared where a wet hand had braced against it. Natasha’s sports bra was under the bench. Mia’s tank was a rag by the door. Lauren’s towel from the party bar was soaked and abandoned.

They went back upstairs because Lauren said the house rule was one round before and one round after. The sex party was still on. The wheel had moved to a new dare. The couch was occupied by a different pair. Natasha borrowed a shirt that stuck to her damp breasts. Mia’s mouth was still shiny. Lauren took a clean cup off the bar, looked at both of them, and tapped the dare wheel without spinning it.

“Next one’s at the party,” she said. “Then the basement again. Workout, massage, piss, fist. Same sluts.”

Natasha nodded. Her cunt ached in the good way. Her mouth tasted like all three of them and the gin from the frat-house bar. The cheer skirt was on the floor now. The bass had not stopped. Lauren’s hand found the small of her back and pointed her toward the kitchen stairs, where the gym light was still on and the board was waiting to be written again.