Homemade Golden Shower

Homemade Golden Shower
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One of my very best friends is the woman you want to hate: Impossibly perfect in her figure, stunningly fit, beautiful, smart, snarky, witty, an avid school volunteer and a gourmet chef, she begs to be hated. Based on her perfect breasts alone (yes, I’ve checked her out) she is deserving of the venom of other women. Just last week we spent the day together with our kids at her house, three boys and one girl between the two of us. Starting with cinnamon rolls she made from scratch and farmers market berries, we moved on to quesadillas and homemade tortilla soup for lunch and finished with a dinner that she concocted with ease from leftovers: a from scratch white ragout with lamb over penne, salad with homemade vinaigrette . For dessert she deserved homemade hot fudge over ice cream (the latter store bought, though she usually makes her own). She begs to be hated. But it’s utterly impossible as all of her fabulousness is coupled with a graciousness and niceness that makes those close to her unable to think a bad thought.
On top of all her amazing qualities, she’s also the Play Date and Sleep Over Whisperer. Parents in our preschool class called her to take their kids for first play dates sans mommy. Many a parent has used her to break their kids in to sleeping over the first time. Our sons have been best friends since day one of preschool and now even though they’re both in different kindergartens they’re still each at ease in either of our homes as they are in their own. Still, my little guy has been hesitant to spend the night at a non-relative’s. Finally, after days of his older brother camping out at his own best friend’s house next door, W started begging to sleep over at his BFF’s too.
I drove him over in the early evening, thinking that at least the boys would get in a play date if my son chickened out. But the charm of my friend and her family quickly quelled any of his qualms and he happily bopped in and down the hall with his friend, forbidding any adults in “their” room as they constructed their sleeping area. I gave the rundown to the parents: 8 p.m. bedtime latest, make sure he pee’d (supervised, because he lies) right before bed, and limit liquids. He’s been dry at night for years now at almost six, but I wanted to be extra sure.
I hustled quickly home before he changed his mind. My friend texted me at 11 p.m. saying both boys were happily asleep, no problem. She had from scratch cinnamon rolls raising in the kitchen for breakfast per W’s request, and all was well. In the morning she texted again around 7:30 to let me know that W was up with her, playing on the iPad, and they were waiting for her son to wake up. Score! Sleep over success! I was so excited to go get him and offer congratulations and thanks. However, as it turns out, I owed her much more than words of gratitude. When my mother later heard what had happened she asked if she should send flowers.
When I arrived with my other son a few hours later I got the full version of what had actually gone down. William had easily gone to sleep. However he began snoring like a bulldozer shortly thereafter, keeping his friend awake and requiring his friend’s dad to come in the room to soothe his own son to sleep. Once that was done, hours passed peacefully and my non-sleep requiring friend went to sleep around 2 a.m.. At 2:30 a.m., W woke up and appeared at her bedside. She sent him to the bathroom and then asked if he was ready to go back to sleep. “OK,” he responded, and climbed in bed beside her . He then tossed and turned for about an hour, displacing her husband to the sofa and keeping her awake. He finally settled down and everyone was quiet and sleeping for a few hours. She awoke, damp , at 7 a.m.. At some point W had pee’d on her, in her own bed, as a guest. Realizing this and opening her eyes, she found my son staring at her. Ever the charmer, and possibly aware already that he’d just given his first golden shower to a beautiful woman he wasn’t related to, he calmly said to her “You’re really cute when you sleep.”
Despite all this she has invited him over again, but has also suggested her son sleep at my house sometime soon too. Here’s hoping The Golden Rule, do unto others as you would have them do unto you, doesn’t apply to kids urinating in bed. Because I just really can’t get behind a Golden Shower Rule.
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My boyfriend and I are driving back from a weekend at home with my parents when he asks me the golden question, and although urinating on someone hasn’t ever been locked away in my secret fantasies vault, I approach the topic with the same philosophy I usually do when confronted with new sexual experiences: Why not?
“Sure I could pee on you, honey,” I reply. “Do you want to pee on me?”
“Yeah, I’d like to see what it’s like .”
So we’re going to pee on each other, that much is settled, and after a little more conversation the additional details are worked out. We’ll do it in the shower as soon as we get home and faces/mouths/etc. are absolutely off-limits. Besides being a little antsy because I already have to go potty badly and Toronto is still half an hour off, I’m satisfied with the plan. When we turn into our driveway I’m excited salvation is near and apparently, so is my boyfriend.
“Guess what?” he asks me excitedly.
“What?”
“I have an erection.”
“From thinking about the peeing thing?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s exciting.”
“It is, but it could be a problem. I don’t know if I can pee with an erection.”
“Well then I better go first. Maybe then you’ll lose your erection.”
“Or maybe it will get bigger.”
“Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” I tell him wisely as I hop out of the car, grab my bags from the trunk and hightail it inside. As soon as the bathroom is in sight the urge to relieve my bladder gets all the more violent and I start whipping off clothes like they’re on fire.
“Wait – wait!” my boyfriend protests, running in behind me as I hop out of my pants, “You look sexy! Can you get undressed slower, so I can enjoy it?”
“Only if you want me to pee on the floor and not on your face!” I yell as I skittle into the bathroom and turn on the shower. “Now get in here STAT!”
He tears off his clothes without protest and leaps into the shower. “EYYYOW IT’S TOO HOT!”
I feel the temperature. “No it’s not.” I rebuke.
“It is! It’s ridiculously hot. THIS is why you’re always complaining about having chapped skin.”
“Really? But I moisturize after showers…”
“Yeah with that horrible lotion from, like, the dollar store.”
“Hey, that stuff is classy! It’s from Shoppers Drug Mart!”
“Fine, whatever, never mind, JUST GET IN HERE AND PISS ON ME!”
He lies down on the shower floor and I step in and position myself above him. I don’t even ask if he’s ready before I let er’ rip! I produce a steady stream of pee that continues for at least ten seconds (I really had to go), and also consists of no less then two farts that accidentally eek out. Oops.
“Sorry about the farts,” I tell my boyfriend. “They just kinda came out.”
“That’s okay.”
“So – did you like it?”
“Yeah, I kinda did. It was – it was – such a thick stream.” He tells me observantly.
“Umm, well thank you,” I reply, “I drink a lot of water.”
Now it’s his turn to do business on me so we carefully switch positions. Miraculously he’s able to squeeze the pee out, despite his slight erection (and we both give out a little whoop to celebrate). But truth be told, as soon as the warm stream hits my belly I know this isn’t for me. Trying to suck it up anyway (after all, I FARTED on him), I make an expression on my face that I hope looks like a seductive smile. But as usual he catches my fake and asks me what’s wrong.
“I don’t like it.” I say, standing up abruptly mid-stream. He’s now peeing on my leg.
“No? How come?”
“Just not my cup of tea. And it smells funny.” I add.
“Oh, well that’s okay. I guess if we want to do it again you could just pee on me from now on.”
“That sounds like a good plan.”
He’s finally done his business. “ Want to have sex now? ” He asks.
We try to have sex, but either we’re too big or our shower is too small (I prefer to blame the shower) so we can’t get into any good positions . We simply proceed to fight over the soap and shampoo while trying not to elbow one another in the face. Ah, amour.
Lesson learned: Golden showers can be nice, but they’re not for everyone. If you’re the least bit curious DO try this at home and report back. Special note: I recommend trying both the pee-ee and the pee-er position to identify which you like best.
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