Mark and Me – Part 4
[In which Mark and Cam go on a week’s hike, and Mark asks Cam to urinate on him.]
During the two week break between semesters, Mark and I decided that we’d like to get out of town and do something other than study or just sit around the apartment. Both of us had enjoyed camping and hiking in the past so after a little thought we decided that we’d go on a one-week hiking/camping trip in a nearby state park. The park offered some mountains, but none that were more than moderately difficult to hike, a lot of good hiking trails and camping spots, and from past visits Mark and I knew that at this time of the year with the cooler temperatures there would be few other visitors and we’d pretty much almost have the place to ourselves. It took us a couple of days to accumulate the supplies and camping gear that we’d need and get everything packed in Mark’s car and then we were off.
It wasn’t a long drive so we arrived at the parking lot by the desired trailhead, signed the log-in/log-out book and were hiking toward our first camping destination before noon. It was a warm day – well “relatively” warm for December with the temperature in the upper 40’s but the sun was shining and after a half hour or so of hiking we had warmed up and were really enjoying the hike. In the early afternoon we ate the sandwiches that we’d packed and drank some water as we hiked along. An hour or so later as I was hiking behind Mark I noticed that the seat of his jeans was wet and that the upper part of the legs of his jeans were also wet. “Well, I guess it doesn’t make any difference”, I thought, “As we’re unlikely to meet anyone else on this trail.” So when my own bladder began sending me signals that it needed to be emptied I didn’t stop walking but just let nature “take its course” and soon both Mark and I were walking along with sodden jeans.
After we’d reached our first destination, had set up camp – really just a couple of sleeping bags under a tarp in case of rain - and carefully prepared a small fire to cook our supper, I rummaged around in my backpack for a dry set of jeans and briefs. As I was getting ready to change into dry clothing, Mark asked, “Why worry about it? They’ll dry off faster if you just leave them on and let your body heat help dry them.” Yeah, I guess that he did have a point there, and anyway the feeling of my wet jeans and underwear wasn’t at all unpleasant so I shoved the dry clothing back into my pack and continued wearing my wet clothing. By the time we’d finished supper and cleaned up it was dark and we had a longer hike ahead of us the next day so we crawled into our sleeping bags and soon were asleep. In the morning we had a quick breakfast, broke camp and were soon hiking toward our next destination. And when my bladder started sending me signals that morning, I didn’t even think about stopping and just wet myself again.
For the rest of the week, Mark and I didn’t worry about stopping to answer the “call of nature” (well, except for bowel movements, of course) and by the end of the week, wearing same clothes, you can guess what we smelled like – kind of think about how the dirtiest Boy’s Room that you were ever in smelled – and that was us times ten. But the smell didn’t bother us, in fact we found it pleasant. Of course, at the end of the week when we had to rejoin society, we stopped at one of those small laundry/shower stops outside of the park that catered to campers and took a quick shower and put on clean clothing and packed our urine-soaked clothes and sleeping bags into trash bags and sealed them up to hide the odor. When we got back to the apartment we washed everything up, showered again and shaved erasing the final traces of out week long “water hike.” Well, almost “everything”, I saved the pair of briefs that I’d worn that week and sealed it in a plastic baggy as a souvenir of that hike.
It was nice to be back in our apartment, warm and dry and with better food and less bugs – for a day or so, anyway. But after that we began to miss the freedom of that week’s hike and our enjoyment at being able to wet ourselves continuously for a week. Just sitting around the apartment, and waiting for classes to start in another week, and occasionally wetting ourselves again just seemed like, well, kind of like – boring. Clearly, living in the same building with others, and having to leave the apartment for shopping and entertainment, and shortly for classes, we couldn’t do what we had been able to do on the hike. In a way it was a little depressing.
But once classes began for the Spring semester, both Mark and I were so busy that we didn’t have to worry about being bored. If I’d thought some of the Fall semester classes were hard, the Spring semester classes were even worse. At least Gabby was in one of my classes so that gave us an excuse to hang around together – as if we’d even needed an excuse.
It was in early March and Mark and I had an unusual weekend – very little homework or tests to study for – and we were just sitting in front of the TV on Saturday evening, drinking beer and watching whatever happened to be on ESPN at the moment. In truth, we’d started on the beer in mid-afternoon and by 8pm or so we were both a little woozy. Anyway, Mark was at one end of the couch, playing with his wet crotch, and I was at the other end thinking about how I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do more – take a leak or have another beer – when Mark looked over at me and said, “Cam, you want to try something new?”
“New, like what are you talking about, I don’t follow you”, I responded.
Mark stood up from the couch, a little unsteadily, and said, “Follow me”, as he walked into the kitchen. Once in the kitchen he sat down on the floor, drew his knees up to his chest, leaned his head down on his knees, and said, “Now, pee on me.”
It took a few seconds for what Mark had just said to sink in and then I said, “Pee on you? No fucking way! You’re fucking out of your fucking mind.” Hopefully Mark got the message.
Guess he didn’t because he immediately responded, “You’re some kind of fucking great friend. I ask you for a simple favor and you fucking refuse. Who don’t you just go back and finish watching the fucking TV.” Man, he sounded really pissed off (no pun intended). So, I’m like, “This is so fucking weird”, but Mark had been pretty specific and forceful so I figured that, “Well, it’s his fucking body, so what the fuck”, and I unzipped my fly and pulled out my cock and held it in my right hand and gave a little “push” and a yellow stream shot out of it and splashed on Mark’s lower back.
“Not my back – me head”, he mumbled and so I raised the stream up and it landed squarely on the top of his head as its intensity increased. Man, I must have had to take a leak way more than I had realized as the stream continued for what seemed like forever – drenching Mark and leave him sitting in a large yellow pool on the kitchen floor. Finally my stream tapered off and then stopped. Mark then raised his head with his blond curls plastered down by my liquid, licked a couple of drops of yellow liquid from his lips, smiled at me and said, “Thanks. Your turn now?”
“No fucking way”, I said with a look of disgust on my face as I stepped back, turned my back on the sodden creature on the kitchen floor, and left the apartment.
[to be continued]