Old drunk skunk gets pissed on

Sarah, the 38-year-old blonde MILF from next door, had been nursing a failing marriage for years. Tonight was no different - another argument with her husband about finances, attention, and everything in between. She'd thrown on a tight-fitting black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places and decided to visit her neighbor Mark, who'd always been kind to her.

Mark, a handsome man in his early forties, opened his door with a welcoming smile. "Sarah! What a surprise. Come on in."

"I hope I'm not intruding," she said, her voice slightly slurred from the two glasses of wine she'd already had at home.

"Not at all," Mark replied, his eyes appreciatively scanning her figure. "Can I get you something? Wine? Beer? Something stronger?"

Sarah laughed. "Something stronger definitely. My husband and I had another fight."

As the evening progressed, Mark kept the drinks flowing. Sarah found herself getting progressively drunker, her inhibitions melting away with each sip of whiskey. The conversation turned flirtatious, and soon Sarah was feeling a familiar warmth between her legs that had nothing to do with the alcohol.

"You know," Mark said, leaning closer, "I've always thought you were incredibly attractive."

Sarah bit her lip. "The feeling's mutual, Mark. Very mutual."

Their eyes locked, and suddenly Mark stood up. "There's something I've always wanted to try with someone I trust," he said, his voice husky with desire. "Something a little... unconventional."

Sarah's heart raced. "I'm open-minded."

Mark unzipped his pants, revealing his already hard cock. "I want to piss on you."

Sarah's drunken mind processed this for a moment before she nodded slowly. "Okay," she said, dropping to her knees on Mark's living room rug.

Mark aimed toward her, but despite his erection, he struggled to start. After a moment of concentration, a small stream escaped, splashing against the wall and floor before he could redirect it.

"Sorry," he muttered, adjusting his position.

Sarah watched, a mix of anticipation and uncertainty on her face. Then, with a grunt of effort, Mark finally managed a proper stream. The warm yellow liquid hit her chest first, soaking through the fabric of her black dress and making it cling to her skin. He moved the stream upward, splashing across her face and into her blonde hair.

As the last drops fell, Sarah remained kneeling, dripping with Mark's piss. The initial excitement had faded, replaced by a sense of confusion and disgust. What had she been thinking? This wasn't her - this wasn't who she was.

Mark seemed to sense her change in mood. "Are you okay?" he asked, already tucking himself back into his pants.

Sarah slowly stood up, the wet dress clinging uncomfortably to her body. "I think... I think I need to go home," she said quietly, avoiding his eyes as she made her way to the door, leaving wet footprints on his hardwood floor.

As she walked back to her own house, the cool night air did little to sober her up or wash away the shame of what she'd just done.