Watersports - A Jar of Piss vs. What I'm Actually Into

It always takes me by surprise when I discover that not everybody thinks the same way that I do. (What the fuck? What do you mean that there exists an opinion other than mine?) I had one of these moments back in March at KinkFest.

One of the workshops I attended there was on the subject of watersports. The woman in charge of the whole presentation talked about urination as a D/s activity: A dom(me) pissing on his/her sub, making the sub drink urine, watching people pee, etc. All sorts of piss-play related things, including what’s healthy/safe, and so on. She also answered questions that the attendees had. One of the first questions asked was about the best ways to store urine for use in later play. And just how long you could store a big jarful of piss before it went bad.

“What,” I asked myself, “Would anyone want with a jar of piss?” It was a rhetorical question that I was being asked by myself. I knew some of the watersports uses for piss by the jarful. And I know that everyone has different kinks, and different preferences within categories of kink. But I was at this workshop because watersports turned me on. And being confronted early on in the hour-and-a-half with the concept of the jar of piss made me sit there thinking, “Ew! Gross!”

My Initial Interest

The first place that I ever encountered the concept of pee-as-sexual was (surprise, surprise) in a couple of letters published in Penthouse magazine. After reading the first letter with a golden shower theme, I found myself thinking, “Yikes! I had no idea that people did that.” Then after noticing the read-out on my arousal barometer (yes, the one in my pants) I remember thinking, “Now I want to find a girl to do that with.”

I’d occasionally find other letters in Penthouse (or similar publications) on the topic, and they were usually letters that I’d end up masturbating to.

Years and years later, I was over at Johnny Dirtnap’s apartment, watching some of the new additions to his porn collection. One of the tapes he’d just gotten was a really low-quality product. It looked like somebody had just filmed some fucking while fooling around with their camcorder and decided to market it. The action was a big massive orgy taking place in someone’s house. The camera operator apparently just wandered around from room to room, filming various people fucking before getting bored and moving on to the next couple (or threesome, foursome, or moresome).

And just when we were about to give up on the tape, the camera suddenly follows a woman as she heads out of the house into the backyard. Once outside, she squats down with her knees bent and her left hand on the ground behind her, giving her a tripod’s balance. She spreads her knees apart, and spreads her pussy lips open with the fingers of her right hand. As she’s doing this, I’m thinking to myself, “What, she had to leave the busy orgy so that she could masturbate in private?”

But then I got it. Because a stream of liquid shot out of her vulva. She leaned back a little, and let fly with a fairly impressive arc of piss. She continued pissing until her bladder was empty and my corpora cavernosa was full. I turned to Johnny Dirtnap, motioned toward the remote in his hand, and said, “Can we see that again?” (We did. Several times.)

I’d eventually find other porn that included peeing scenes. More watersports letters in erotica magazines. Then I saw what almost looked like an opportunity to do more than just fantasize about the act.

Shortly after my correspondence with CJ turned sexual for the first time and we had started occasionally getting together for naughty foreplay-type activities in between rounds of lust letters, she mentioned having had a longstanding fantasy of letting a man ejaculate onto her face. It seemed like such a dominant action for a man, and such a submissive thing for a woman to allow. It turned her on. And while I wanted to cum on her face (and did a few times as our physical encounters continued over the years), my initial response to her confession was to agree that she was right, and that it would be a very dominant act. But . . . if that’s the kind of thing she was interested in, how would she feel about submitting to an even more dominant act. She’d let me spray her face with my jism . . . would she consider letting me spray it with my piss?

She eventually informed me that she would indeed let me do that at some point. (And just for the record, that point never actually arrived.) In correspondence, she was willing to let me pee on her. She was willing to let me watch her pee. She was even willing to consider peeing on me, if I wanted it. Outside of the relatively safe framework of letter writing, however, she never wanted to get into it. “Not this time. Maybe next time.”

Which, of course, made me want it even more.

Atypical Reasons

The tendency to pee on somebody during sexplay is usually considered to be a BDSM activity. Specifically, a subset of D/s play. The typical reasons to urinate on somebody are to dominate them. To assert your ownership of them by ‘marking’ them. To humiliate them.

Those are the typical reasons. I’m not typical. While I do have the occasional watersports-based domination, ownership, or humiliation fantasy, that’s not the way I typically view the whole ‘peeing on your partner’ thing.

While the use of watersports is obviously kinky, most of the fantasies that I’ve had about it are almost totally removed from BDSM. I’m either just there for the activity and none of the usually D/s symbolism attached to it, or the symbolism that I’m getting from it is one of connection rather than establishment of hierarchy.

One of Mark Twain’s (seemingly infinite) quotations is: “One of life’s most over-valued pleasures is sexual intercourse; one of life’s least appreciated pleasures is defecation.” Now, I have no interest in scat play whatsoever. But I understand the sentiment. Nobody ever really goes on about the pleasures of taking a shit (except for maybe my brother, who goes on about it way too much sometimes).

Pissing feels great. Waking up with a full bladder and racing from your bed to the toilet? Or the race from the front door to the toilet after a much-too-long car ride? Oh, God, once you get there, letting that urine flow just feels incredible. It’s a relief. It’s a release. It’s fun!

Sex is supposed to be about pleasure. It’s a pleasure to pee. I’m not saying that you should turn urination into foreplay simply because both peeing and fucking feel good. But, hey, if the thought arouses you at all, it’s definitely worth discussing with your partner.

And then there’s the connection symbolism that I mentioned.

I quoted Mark Twain earlier, now I quote the Beatles: “Oh, please, say to me / You’ll let me be your man / And please, say to me / You’ll let me hold your hand / . . . / And when I touch you I feel happy, inside / Its such a feeling / That my love / I can’t hide.”

The first time that I held the hand of a woman I was in love with, it was electric. All I was doing was sitting beside her, holding her hand in mine, but I felt connected to her. Of course, this is Dot I’m talking about, and so it turned out to have retroactively meant nothing, but still – before that, I’d never understood what was behind this romantic ‘nonsense’ of just wanting to hold someone’s hand. Now I yearn to find a woman whose hand I can hold. (Sure, I also want to do other things to her, but I want that feeling I had when sitting there next to Dot that first time, her hand in mine.)

Are you going to think that I’m completely weird if I say that I consider lovers peeing on each other to be similar to hand-holding? (Wait – do you think I’m weird anyway? I’ve probably already said some pretty strange stuff in the past couple months of blogging. Maybe I’ve already blown my chance to be seen as normal. Oh well. So be it.)

Here’s the thing: The human body contains a lot of water. (There’s a common misconception that this number is somewhere in the high 90 percentiles, but according to several seemingly reliable sources on the internet, it’s actually closer to 60%. Blood is 95% water, which may be the origin of the other statistic, but I couldn’t say for sure.) The human body also is a complex interweaving of systems. Blood courses through us via the circulatory system. We are bio-electric systems. The pathway from the mouth to the urethra is a system of it’s own.

So the human body is bio-electrical and is filled with fluid channels. Liquid conducts electricity. To my way of thinking, if you let liquid flow out of you and onto another human, you’re forming some sort of circuit. And even if it doesn’t work that way in reality – even if the bio-electricity from one body isn’t channeled through the fluid being carried to the other person’s bio-electric field, even if the stream of liquid isn’t interacting with the liquid composing the majority (60%, remember?) of the other person’s body – then there’s still an abstract connection. It means something because it could mean those things. I could argue that you could almost find a spiritual connection in the concept.

All of that is the result of sitting down one day long ago and analyzing my attraction to watersports. (“I’m turned on by the thought of peeing on girls? And having girls pee on me? How sick must I be? Why on Earth would I want these things? No, really, I’m asking: Why?”) I honestly couldn’t tell you whether the above reasons are the subconscious reasons behind my basic interest in it – or the best justification for wanting what society deems gross, dirty pee-play that my brain could come up with. Either way, it’s how I see it now.

And at it’s core, if it’s about connection, then while it can be a BDSM thing – the dominant connecting with his submissive – it can just as easily be an act performed between equals.

Double Standards

But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe piss-play is automatically a dominance and submission thing after all. I don’t know how everybody feels about this, after all. I just know how I feel about it. Maybe it is everything that the typical reasons for it say it is, and I’m just one of those ‘exceptions that proves the rule’ kind of guys.

Or, to look at it another way, there’s a weird double standard at work in my brain regarding the subject of watersports. Maybe it is all D/s. Maybe if I piss on a woman, I absolutely am dominating her. Okay, fine. I can live with that. Maybe peeing on her does mark her with my scent, and does make her ‘mine’. Sure, why not. And maybe anyone that I urinate on is unquestionably humiliated by it. Embarrassed, shamed, mortified. If that’s how it truly is, then that’s how it is.

However . . .

That’s what happens when they are pissed on by me. There’s a whole other standard for the turnaround.

If a girl I like takes off her panties and pisses on me, is she dominating me? Pfft. No. Of course not. If we’re not equals in the whole sex play thing, then I’m the Dom. You can’t dom the Dom. Not even by pissing on him. Her pissing on me is just . . . sexy and arousing. Rawr! Well then, is she marking me with her scent? Is her peeing on me binding me to her? Huh. I don’t have a functioning sense of smell, so I wouldn’t know about things like that. Am I hers? We’re either ‘ours’, or she’s mine. This just leaves humiliation. Say that she does urinate on me. Am I humiliated by this? Let me ask you . . . does it sound like I’m humiliated? I didn’t think so, either.

The Watersports Category

Pee-play. Piss-play. Golden showers. Urolagnia or urophilia. (Urophagia if we’re talking specifically about the fetish for treating urine as if it was a tasty beverage.) What am I all talking about when I say ‘watersports’?

Traditionally, if it’s a kinky activity that involves urine, it falls beneath the watersports banner. Urinating on someone. Urinating in someone. (Getting urinated on, getting urinated in.) Wetting your pants for the erotic thrill. Watching someone pee. Piss drinking. Using urine as a lubricant. And so on.

That’s all watersports. Assuming that it’s all done between consenting adults, then I would consider it all kinky sex play. Dirty, naughty fun.

Not everything on the watersports menu is on my ‘to do’ list. While I can understand why a person could get off on peeing in their pants, I can’t imagine that it would do much for me. (And I’d much rather watch a stream of urine shooting out from between a pair of naked pussy lips than just watch a wet stain slowly spreading across her pants.) I really don’t see me drinking anyone’s pee, either.

The Humiliation Play Category

I used to work with a guy who could occasionally be heard to say this about the boss: “I wouldn’t piss in his face. But only if he was on fire.” (I think that we all pretty much felt that way, it’s just that none of us ever seemed to express ourselves quite so poetically.)

Outside the realms of kinky sex, pissing on someone has always been at the very least a major insult. (Possibly the reason you give the judge for having killed a guy in the restroom of a bar.)

Peeing on a person who enjoys being peed on is watersports. Peeing on someone who is repulsed by it is humiliation. So, according to the weird little dictionary in my head, only half of naughty sex-based urine games are watersports. The other half falls under humiliation (under a urination subcategory).

For someone who isn’t really into you pissing on them – but will submit to anything you want to do to them anyway – urine is humiliation. For that matter, someone who does like you pissing on them, but feels shame for liking it . . . also, humiliation.

There’s a big difference between you and your partner peeing on one another, and just forcing your sub to get down on their knees and bow their head beneath your yellow stream.

There’s also a big difference between someone wetting themselves because they like how it feels, and wetting themselves because their master denied them access to the bathroom, and they simply couldn’t hold it in any longer. Shame. Shame and humiliation for pissing your pants there.

(I’ve also wondered if people ever make their humiliation fetishist submissives the subject of parties based on the concept of bukkake, but using piss instead of cum.)

Shortly before my humiliation fetishist email penpal dropped off the face of the Earth, she had asked me to start giving her dares to perform. Over the course of the next couple of weeks, I dared her to do three things. In the last (very short) email I received from her, she informed me that she had done two of them, and would tell me what happened in great detail when she had more time to write.

One of those dares was just a cute little exhibitionist thing I had her do, and isn’t relevant to this post. But the other one . . . the other dare started off with her drinking lots of fluids. Once she had to pee, she was to drive to her local Wal*Mart, sit in the parking lot, and drink some more. Then the conditions of the dare had her going into the store to purchase a single item – a package of adult diapers. She was to pick a check-out line that had several customers in it already. And once the checker was finally ringing up the person directly ahead of her, she was then to go ahead and empty her bladder. While standing there.

Now, the last thing I wanted was to be responsible for someone having an accident (a ‘slip and fall’ accident, not a ‘wet your pants’ accident – I was obviously eager to have my dirty little friend have one of those), so once she was finished, she was to alert the checker that, “Someone must have spilled something,” because the floor was all wet. Of course, saying this with a huge wet spot on her jeans and piss running down her legs while purchasing adult diapers would probably clue the checker in to just who it was, and what they had ‘spilled’.

That little dare? Definitely intended to be humiliation, rather than just watersports.

Getting Back to the KinkFest Workshop For a Moment

At one point during the Watersports workshop, the discussion was on using urine as a lubricant. Sure, pee isn’t as slippery as Astroglide, but it’s definitely slipperier than water, so there are watersports enthusiasts who use it as an addition to a woman’s natural wetness, or who use it when they don’t have a tube of store-bought lube at hand, or who simply use it because they really like pee.

So, upon hearing this, I raised my hand. And when I was acknowledged, I proceeded to invent (conceptually, not chemically) what just may be the single greatest fetish product of all time: Urine-Based Lubricant. I mean, hey, everybody already uses water-based lube. If urine starts out slipperier than water, then it stands to reason that urine-based lube would be slipperier than the water-based stuff.

Half the crowd laughed, the other half just kind of went, “Ooh . . .”, wishing that they had a couple tubes of the stuff. (Which made me feel like my job there was done.)

What I Want

I want to find a woman who will let me pee on her naked body. I want to urinate into her cleavage, and between her legs. I want her to spread her legs and hold herself open for me so that I can piss directly on her clit and try to make her cum like she was a 70s housewife masturbating in the shower with a waterpic. I want to pee on her ass. (And in her ass.) I want to pee between her shoulderblades and watch my urine run down her bare back. I want to stand behind her as she kneels and piss on the soles of her sexy bare feet.

I fantasize about pissing in a woman’s open mouth. This isn’t a fantasy of making her drink my urine. She doesn’t swallow – it runs back out of her mouth and flows over her chin, down her breasts, and beyond.

I want to find a woman who will pee on my naked body in return. This isn’t a desire to have urine on me. It’s a desire to have a woman urinating on me. Yes, once that has happened, there will be urine on me, and I’m fine with that (because, really, the stuff just washes right off). As I’ve said earlier, it’s all about the connection. It’s about the stream of liquid issuing forth from her urethra, it’s source her bladder inside her body. Once it’s become separate from that, it’s no longer of any use to me.

If she were to pee into a jar, then the contents of that container would no longer be eligible for the kind of watersports I have in mind. To me, watersports is a zero degrees of separation thing. Pee traveling from urethra to skin? Sexy. Pee traveling from urethra to container, then from container to skin? Gross.

I want to watch a woman urinating. I could probably sizably inflate the word count of this post by giving you reasons why, but honestly, it all boils down to this: I’ve seen women peeing in porn, and I like it. So I have to believe that if I were to be able to see a woman peeing in real life, it would be even better.

The more thought I devote to humiliation games, the more I think I want to find a woman into humiliation. If I had a submissive or play partner who was into being humiliated, I would probably use urination as an aspect of that.

(And there is the deep, dark fantasy of owning a slave, and waking up with a full bladder in the middle of the night. Do I get up and use the bathroom in this fantasy? No I do not. Instead I wake my slave and have her take my penis in her mouth, forming a tight seal at the base. Then I relieve myself, urinating down her throat until my bladder is empty.)

All of my watersports fantasies take place either in a bathroom or outside. Or possibly in a specially prepared area with things like tarps, kiddie pools, or rubber bed-sheets. In none of my little scenarios am I ever walking into a woman’s house and just pissing on her while she’s sitting on her couch. Ease of clean-up is always in mind when I’m thinking about this stuff. (The majority of the fantasy images I have take place with the peed-upon participant in the bathtub – which makes sense, because where else would you take a shower . . . golden or otherwise?)

Well, I’ve been sitting at the keyboard for quite some time now while writing this piece, and now I’ve got to go pee. (God, I need a girlfriend. One who’s into, you know, getting peed on.)