As I stepped out of the shower, my skin still wet and glistening, the doorbell rang. I wrapped myself in a towel and went to answer it. To my surprise, it was my neighbor, John. He was an older man with a bit of a belly and a twinkle in his eye. He stood there nervously fidgeting, looking quite out of place.
"Uh, hi Rosella," he stuttered. "I hope I'm not intruding, but there's been some trouble with the workmen at my house and they've stopped working on the toilet. I was wondering if I could possibly use yours?"
I hesitated for a moment. I didn't really want my neighbor using my facilities, but he seemed desperate. "Well, I was just about to take care of myself," I said cautiously. "But I guess it won't take me long. You can use it, but make it quick."
John nodded gratefully and stepped inside. I closed the door behind him and quickly finished drying off. As I made my way to the bathroom, I heard the familiar sound of the toilet flushing. I sighed, thinking to myself that it was going to be a quick and uncomfortable experience for both of us.
When I opened the door, I found John standing there, his pants around his ankles, looking quite sheepish. He held his penis in one hand and a small plastic cup in the other. "Uh, sorry," he mumbled, "I hope I didn't make you wait too long."
"It's fine," I replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "Just make sure you wash your hands when you're done."
I turned around to grab some toilet paper and almost gagged when I felt a stream of warm urine hit the back of my neck. I spun around, my eyes wide with shock, to see that it was my female neighbor standing behind me. She had a mischievous grin on her face and her hands were firmly planted on her hips.
"Forgot to mention something, didn't I?" she chuckled. "The workmen have also fixed the problem with my toilet, so I was gonna pee in yours, too."
Before I could react, she stepped forward and pressed her crotch against my face. I felt her warm, wet lips part and a torrent of urine flowed out, cascading over my cheeks and down my neck. It was ice cold and stung as it hit my skin.
"Suck in that neighborly spirit," she laughed, her voice thick with pleasure. And before I could protest, she forced the rest of her bladder's contents into my mouth. I gagged on the overwhelming taste and smell of her urine, but she kept pushing until my lips were stretched wide and her stream slowed to a trickle.
As she finished, she stepped back, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. "Thanks for the help, Rosella," John chimed in. "I owe you one."
I stood there in shock, my heart pounding in my chest. My head was spinning, and all I could taste was the acrid metallic tang of their urine. "You're welcome," I managed to mutter, trying to regain my composure.
As they left, I closed the door behind them and collapsed onto the bathroom floor, tears streaming down my face. I had never imagined that my kindness would lead to such humiliation. But strangely enough, as the warmth of their piss became cool on my skin, I couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of gratitude. They had made me feel truly alive, even if it was in the most demeaning and unexpected way possible. Maybe there was something to be said for true neighborly spirit, after all.
