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New Voices From San Francisco |
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New Voices From San Francisco |
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Anywhere in the House Based on a real Craigslist Ad By Kemble Scott
Brad
shut his eyes to concentrate. No,
don’t do that, he chided himself. Concentrating would only create even
more anxiety. Then he’d never be able to do it. He needed to do the
opposite of concentrating. He needed to relax. He
took in a deep breath, then let it go. Relax. Forget
the cold. Forget that anyone is looking. Just…relax. He
felt his body finally settle. The tension of the moment drifted away. The
stream started to flow. A little trickle at first, then a torrent. “Wait!”
Paul shouted. “Save some!” Brad
repressed the flow. It wasn’t easy. Once he’d started, it was hard to
stop. He squeezed tight until the urge was subdued. He opened his eyes and
looked over at Paul. He
was dousing all the same areas Brad had just sprayed. The shelf with the
eggs and butter. The open vegetable drawer. The carton of milk. The inside
of the refrigerator was soaked. “What
are you doing?” Brad asked. “I already pissed there!” “Sorry,
dude,” Paul said with a wide grin. “I’m like a dawg. I gotta mark
everyone else’s territory with my own.” Brad
had never been interested in water sports, but when he saw the ad on
Craigslist it clicked a switch inside. It was so outrageous, he thought at
first it might be a joke. There were plenty of those on Craigslist. People
came up with the wildest claims. Like that story about guys jacking off on
the last cars of BART trains. Yeah, right. The
pictures were the clincher. A fetish like this should not be true, but the
photographs proved otherwise. PISS
~ - ANYWHERE- In My House You Want Too - 34 (castro / upper market)
Reply
to: pers- @craigslist.org Brad
laughed out loud at his desk. Susie on the other side of the cubicle stood
and peeked over. Brad quickly called up his gmail page. “Uh, just a note
from a friend,” he lied. When
the nosy neighbor sat back down, Brad clicked right back to the listing.
The photos showed a man peeing in his own fridge. Another shot captured
him urinating into a kitchen silverware drawer. There was also a picture
of piss spurting onto a computer tower, making Brad wonder how it could
possibly continue to work. Wouldn’t he risk getting a shock traveling up
the stream? Each photo was carefully cropped so you couldn’t see the man’s face. The dick was nice, though. A pretty big one, considering it was flaccid. The writer of the ad described himself as thirty-four years old and “sexy as fuck.” From what Brad could see of the man’s athletic body, he was hot, at least from the chest down. But
why would anyone want to pee all over their own stuff in their own home? Brad
figured it couldn’t hurt to ask, so he sent the man a message. After
emailing back and forth a few times, Brad agreed to stop by the man’s
house that afternoon. He told his boss he wasn’t feeling well after
lunch and took half a sick day. Maybe
he was sick to agree to such a thing. But Brad thought Paul was
sexy, at least in pictures. They’d exchanged full body and face photos.
Brad was particularly proud of the shot he had of himself. A friend took
it at The City’s nudist North Baker Beach, and his light brown hair
looked almost blond that day. Despite his strange fetish, Paul’s
personal photo was fully-clothed, with all but the arm of another person
cropped out of the frame. Not the best picture, but he’d agreed to give
Brad a blowjob to seal the deal. Now
that he was at the house, walking around peeing on everything in sight,
Brad wasn’t so sure about the bargain he’d made. Blowjobs were as
common as handshakes in this town. What was he thinking? “Time
to refill the tank,” Paul said as he tossed Brad another bottled water. Brad
chugged down the water. “You know, I sure could use some of that head
right now. How about we switch to the second round.” They’d already
wet the bed, drenched the living room couch and soaked most of the
kitchen. How much more could they possibly do? “No,
not yet!” Paul said, his eyes revealed panic. “You
okay?” Brad asked. “Are you on crystal or something?” “No
way! I’m fine. Look, I just want to get this place swimming in piss. And
there’s not a lot of time.” Time?
Since when was there a deadline? When
Brad first got to the apartment, Paul seemed agitated. Brad thought it was
just because the guy had finally found someone willing to engage in his
fetish. People into kink get very excited when they think they’re going
to finally receive what they crave. But Paul’s jitters were more than
just eagerness. Brad sensed something wasn’t right when they took off
their jeans and shorts and they were both naked from the waist down. Paul
had a beautiful athletic body, but he was embarrassed when Brad looked. He
sized up Paul. He was in his early thirties, just as he said in his
listing, with handsome dark Italian features. He didn’t have the strung
out look of partying on meth, but his eyes were a little wild. “Okay,”
Brad said. “So what’s next?” “The
computer!” They
walked into a small office. On the floor beneath the desk was what looked
like a brand new computer tower. The outside casing was sleek stainless
steel. “It
seems a shame to wreck that,” Brad said. “Don’t you use it to find
guys online?” “I’ve
never used that computer to find guys on line.” Brad
thought it was strange how Paul put so much emphasis on the word I’ve.
He noted how the desk was meticulously organized, with a stack of floral
writing paper and matching envelopes. Maybe the guy was gayer than he
appeared at first glance. “It’s
your fantasy, bud,” Brad said. “But first – unplug it from the
wall.” Even
after it was detached from power, Brad still thought he heard something
inside hissing from exposure to two streams of pee. What a waste of a
beautiful machine. “I
don’t have much left,” Brad said. “Your ad said you wanted to drink
it and get pissed on. We’d better go do that before I run out. Of
course, when my bladder’s empty, my balls are still full. I seem to
remember you saying you wanted all of that—” “Shit!
It’s nearly five o’clock!” Paul ran out of the office and back to
the front door. He picked up his underwear from their piles of disguarded
clothes and put them on. “What
the hell is going on?” Brad said as he followed. “She
gets out of work at five! She’ll be home soon!” “She?
Who the hell are you talking about?” “My
girlfriend,” Paul said as he hastily pulled on his jeans. “Uh, I mean
my X. Bitch left me for some guy she met on Craigslist. If she thinks she
can piss all over our relationship and get away with it, then—” “Whoa!”
Brad had to catch his breath. “You’re telling me this isn’t your own
fucking place? We just pissed all over your ex-girlfriend’s apartment?
That’s fucked up, man.” “She’s
a bitch,” Paul said as he sat on the floor and tied his sneakers. Brad
grabbed Paul’s shoulder hard and looked down. Brad’s penis, still
dripping urine, was just inches from Paul’s face. “And
you’re…straight?” “Get
that thing away from me!” Paul stood up and headed for the door. “If I
were you, I wouldn’t stick around.” “What
makes you think I won’t call the cops and turn you in?” Brad said as
he got dressed. “That’s
an interesting idea. How are you going to explain to the cops that your
piss is all over this place?” Paul
bolted from the apartment, slamming the door behind. “Shit!” Brad said
as he rushed to get his clothes on and get out. ***
Three
weeks later Brad was back in his cubicle at work. The cops hadn’t
come knocking at his door, so he figured he’d dodged a bullet
over destroying that woman’s home. Using gmail had kept his identity
anonymous, hadn’t it? He’d
thought about that strange urine-soaked afternoon many times since. What
made him do such a crazy thing? He
clicked through the latest Craigslist postings. Sex of every kind was
available today. All he had to do was choose. Then
he saw the listing. PISS
~ - ANYWHERE- In My House You Want Too - 34 (castro / upper market)
Brad
stood up from his chair and peeked over to see if snoopy Susie was around.
She wasn’t. He sat back down, opened his gmail account and punched out a
message on his keyboard to Paul: REPEAT?
Copyright © 2006 Kemble Scott |
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Kemble Scott is an editor at SoMa Literary Review. Kemble’s debut novel SoMa is coming soon from Kensington Books. |
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Reproduction of material from SoMa Literary Review pages |
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