It was about a year and a half ago, I was sitting in my work truck having a lunch break and leching at any remotely sexy looking female who happened to walk by, fantasizing about kinky sex. Such has been my custom ever since I can remember. At 53 I still had a raging libido and quite simply did not get enough sex to satisfy it. I could still quite easily orgasm two or three times a day.

My wife and I had always looked after ourselves, eating properly and having active lives. My job as a farrier is particularly physically strenuous, as such I was still well muscled and tanned from working outside much of the time. I was in rude health.

I still have a full head of brown hair with just a hint of gray and hazel eyes which I’m told still have a sort of boyish charm. Working with horses, you either get aggressive and shout and push and stay permanently pissed off – it’s a difficult job with a surprising requirement for finesse and the horse constantly fidgeting can be frustrating – or you develop a sort of Zen sereneness, doing what is required all the time soothing and talking to the animal. Often we develop a sort of charisma, a chattiness and banter to keep everything pleasant and friendly, even if things are going wrong

Women, who are the vast majority of my customers, love the second approach. There is something about farrier men which some woman find attractive. Maybe it’s the muscles, maybe it’s the horsemanship skill, I don’t know, but I’m not unaware of being ogled at sometimes and of course there is always the flirting.

This all did my uncontrolled sex drive no favours, even though I did well to hide it in order to maintain professionalism.

My wife Helena was also still a picture of health and sexiness, belying her 53 years and bearing of two children. She still fitted in the clothes she had when we were married 29 years earlier. I guess you would say her body was of the “modeling type”. Very lean and slender, very little fat with small, still teenager-like breasts. Some would say her body was almost on the boyish end on the female body spectrum. She was built for speed, not comfort. She was very fit, her abs the envy of anyone who happened to get a glimpse of them.

What made her sexy enough even at 53 to often be approached and propositioned from other men was her beautiful face, her cute ski ramp nose, sparkling blue-green eyes framed by her voluminous wavy blonde hair that cascaded down to the middle of her back; oh and those nipples which almost always presented themselves through her top. Yes, atop those perfectly shaped small breasts were the most prominent erect, overtly raunchy nipples.

Yet she had been raised by parents with Victorian values which we had never been able to get past sexually. Our sex was always very vanilla with nothing more risque than the occasional 69er. Amazingly however, Helena had the most intense orgasms and came to them quite easily and frequently. She always seemed try to control herself however and never really let herself go wild and enjoy them fully, almost embarrassed by their intensity. She aways seemed to be holding something back.

The frequency was also on the wane. Her seemingly decreasing interest in sex I always put down to boredom, tiredness or just a declining libido. This was distressing for me because still madly in love with her, I still wanted to fuck her every which way til Sunday, not withstanding my growing perversions and developing kinks.

Living on acreage gives you a certain amount of privacy. Typical of any male, when I needed a piss I’d just whop it out and go, often in front of my wife. I guess she felt what was good for the goose was good for the gander and eventually would do the same. When she needed to go she’d just pull down her panties squat down and let it go, often also right in front of me and often giving me full view of her pussy as she pissed. I don’t know whether it was trying to erotic, trying to make a point, or just being completely comfortable with each other.

Helena is a gusher and her bladder must be huge as she pisses in great volumes, gushing out like a fire hose. I’m not sure at that point whether Helena knew the sight of her piss flooding from her beautiful full sized pussy was a major turn on for me. I would become instantly hard at the sight. I never mentioned this perversion to her wishing not to offend those sexually obstructive Victorian ideals and dammit, I never wanted her to stop doing it.

Helena was into some bizarre health practices, none more so than her recent use of urine for health. Part of this protocol was to drink from one’s own morning urination which she did every day. Often as I gave her a kiss goodbye as I was off to work I could still smell it on her breath. It was intoxicating and I’d drive off with a hard on, wishing it was my piss I smelt on her breath.

Having such a strong libido and a sex life on the wane, I made use of Internet porn to jack off to. I loved all the hard core stuff. Things I’d love to have done with Helena but couldn’t suggest. I’d downloaded and saved my favourites to a file on my hard disk, never believing my technophobic wife would ever find them. There was all sorts of stuff on there, all the hard core stuff, orgies, multiple creampies, oral creampies, a little bit of bondage etc.

With my growing piss fetish I had saved a lot of watersports videos as well. There was some great videos of mouth pissing both hetro and female to female, pissing inside pussies and assholes during sex etc. My fetish was never about domination or submission, it was about the taboo, the trust and intimacy of two (or more) people sharing their piss with each other. That is what turned me on.

As such I didn’t save any pissing videos where there was any element of domination or abuse, well all except for one. It was titled “Piss Whore Training” or something similar. That was the title I gave it on my hard drive anyway. I just thought it was hot because of the amount the woman pissed as she was getting fucked.

As this fetish was raging in me, I had to play it out, I though there is no way Helena is going to go for this, so I had to find a fuckbuddy who shared my interest in pee sex. Her name was Kylie, a sexy blond woman in her early 40’s that like me, liked to be pissed on and into during sex. Like me, she had no interest in a relationship, she also had a partner whom she loved but who wasn’t into kink. She just wanted to act out her piss fetish and that is what we both did, in addition to all the other hard core stuff I fantasized about.

I think Helena knew the whole time I was fucking somebody else. Women have a sense about these things, but once again that Victorian stoicism that accepted the husband taking a mistress, so long as it was just sex.

My phone rang as I sat there leching and eating lunch, It was Helena so I answered, “Hi babes wassup?”.

There was a momentary pause before she answered and the tone I knew so well when something was wrong “Hello”. Then nothing, silence except for the sound of her distressed breathing. I diddn’t know whether she was angry about something or upset about something.

“What’s wrong babes?”

There was further silence, maybe 5 or ten seconds, then “What are these videos on your computer?”

Oh fuck, I thought to myself. “What videos?” I asked. Of course I knew which videos, but I was hoping she had found some of the other weird videos about conspiracy theories and whatnot, but that would not have prompted a call I didn’t think. I was in deep shit.

“The sex videos and the ones where people are pissing all over each other” she spitted out.

Frantic for an excuse, I thought of saying that I was doing research for a PhD, or secretly a CIA spy and these were dirt files on politicians, but nothing remotes plausible popped into my head in the few seconds before my panic was interrupted with her inquiring “Well?”.

A few more seconds as the resignation came over me that my relationship could possibly be over or irreparably damaged, I decided to tell the truth,”It’s urolagnia”.

“I know what it is, I want to know what the fuck it’s doing on your computer Wayne!”

I was still looking for a plausible excuse, a computer virus, hackers, friend borrowed it and I don’t know how to delete them? Coming up with and absurd lie was just going to make it worse.

As a wave of resignation wafted over my consciousness, “It’s my fetish” I dejectedly replied. My beautiful wife who I loved more than anything just found out I’m a pervert, a sexual deviant. Trying to shift the blame, a tactic I always reached for in desperation during our infrequent arguments… actually it was more an admission of the truth, I said “Dammit Helena, the way you drink your own pee and pee right in front of me all the time has always turned me on, what did you expect?”

There was no immediate reply. I couldn’t tell whether she was just digesting my comment, about to hang up on me or completely blow up. When she eventually spoke again, her tone was softer causing me to speculate that she at least partly understood. Could I sense a mischievous smirk at the other end of the phone even? I wasn’t sure. “Well… okay, but what about all this other stuff on here?” referring to the other hard core stuff I’d saved.

This was a time for telling the truth, I had no excuse for my love of hard core so I just had to lay it out, “It gets me off Helena. You know I have a huge sex drive and I use that stuff to whack myself off… and we don’t have sex that often anymore.” I said, still trying to shift blame.

I should have known better than use lack of sex as an argument weapon that is the hot button she never liked me to press and in a more accusing and angry tone she asked, “So who do you think of when you’re masturbating? Is it me or those girls?”

She was expecting to catch me out lying when I said that I imagined her. She could always tell when I lied. Except when I told her that is was indeed her that I imagined doing all that stuff with, she could tell I was telling the truth.

“So you’d want to do all that stuff to me?” she hissed.

“Not all of it, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say yes.”

“So what things would you do to me?” she asked in her still Victorian outrage. Not waiting very long for an answer, she continued “You’d fuck me up the ass? Ejaculate all over me? Watch me getting fucked by other men? Watch me with another woman? Fuck another woman while I watch dammit?”

I hesitated to answer as Helena impatiently asked “Well?”

I thought the questions sounded more rhetorical, but I meekly offered ,”Like I said, darling, not all of it.”

“So which would you like to do?” she asked but not in a tone that was in any way invitational.

Impatient at my silence she started again “Would you urinate on me? Want me to urinate on you?” I gulped. I wanted to say “Oh, fuck yeah!” but I just couldn’t let myself say it yet, still thinking that I was up to my ass in alligators.

That question sounded different, almost like she did want and answer, but before I could say anything she venomously spitted “You’d want me to do piss whore training?”

Oh fuck THAT video, I thought to myself. I wasn’t much into B & D, but I found the redheaded middle aged woman on the vid extremely hot and I just loved how she almost continuously pisses while being fucked. In fact I skip over the domination aspects and just liked to watch the pissing. I sensed this was the one video that had her utterly concerned.

“I would never do anything to hurt you and I would never do anything you didn’t want to do Helena.” There was an ensuing pause and a very pregnant one at that. “I need to explain something to you Helena,” I said, breaking the momentary hiatus in communication, “My pee fetish isn’t about domination. It isn’t about tying people up, or tying you up and pissing on you. I watch that video because I fascinated by the sex part, how she urinates so much during sex. I don’t watch the BDSM parts of that video. For me it’s about the taboo, the intimacy and trust that two people could share their pee with each other because they want to do it and be turned on by the naughtiness of it.”

There was silence. “Are you still there?” I softly asked.

“Yes” followed by further silence. I could tell she was digesting what I had just said and formulating her thoughts. I decided I could do nothing but stay silent and wait it out.

Finally she spoke, softly and in a tone that under the circumstances exposed a great degree of unnecessary shame, “I have an admission to make Wayne…”

“Yes” I answered, trying to prompt her to speak on.

“Well…” she hesitatingly offered.

“Yes, what is it darling?”

It must have been twenty seconds before she spoke again, a very long twenty seconds. “I think I have a pee fetish too,” she blurted as quickly as she could. I was almost like she was passing a mental kidney stone. The relief that it was out was palpable, even if it was painful passing it.

I was mentally frozen and almost felt like I was going to black out at this revelation. “Really? Go on.”

“You’re going to think I really weird now” She squeeked.

“What? After what we just talked about? Babe I love you more than anything in the universe, nothing you say will change that or make me love you less. Go on tell me!”

“Well, you know I’m into urotherapy, you know I consume my own urine amongst the other things I do with it. Well, I started to find the collection of my pee was turning me on. Drinking it, sometimes I wished it was your pee. I started masturbating when I had to have a pee during the day and I enjoyed the feeling of smearing my pee all over myself, My thighs and over my breasts, imagining it was your pee.”

“Holy Shit Helena” I exclaimed, “That’s so hot! Why didn’t you ever tell me.”

“The same reason you never told me I guess” she reasoned. “Anyway be quiet there’s more. Wayne you know the video of the dark haired girl doing yoga, in the yellow singlet?”

Boy did I know the video she meant. The lady had a similar body type to Helena, it was one of my favourites. “Yes, I know the one” I said. Sitting in my work truck in the car park of a shopping strip I had gotten extremely hard listening to Helena’s testimony, and I was starting to rub my cock through my jeans, my half eaten lunch beside me on the seat, now completely ignored.

“Well, you know how she lies on her back and draws her knees up, rotating her hips back…”

“Yeah” I interrupted, a noticeable lustful quivering in my voice.

“…how she pees on herself and onto her face and mouth?”

“Uhuh” I expectantly squeaked in an uncharacteristically high pitched tone as I massaged the bulge in my pants more vigorously.

“Well… I do that sometimes.”

To be honest, I felt like I had entered a parallel universe. This is not something I ever expected to hear from my wife. I was light headed, almost in a dreamlike state, my world, her world had just changed because it was obvious we were now going to fulfill our mutual fantasy together. Although it was great doing all this stuff with Kylie, it was just sex on a physical level. Doing these things with the woman I love, my life partner and soul mate was on another level entirely.

“You’ve gone quiet Wayne, are we alright? You don’t think I’m a freak do you?”

“NO” I blurted, almost shouting. “That’s the sexiest thing I ever heard, I can’t wait to see that. Dammit if you’re a freak, you’re the hottest, most sexiest most beautiful freak in the world and this freak wants come home right now and have freaky sex with you.”

“You want to come home and pee on me?” she mischievously inquired.

“Only if you promise to pee on me.” I bargained.

“What time will you be home Wayne?”

“About 4:00 I guess, but I don’t know how I going to work now.”

“I’ll be waiting” she chirpily said.

Somehow we manged to finish our conversation and sign off, and somehow I gathered myself up to get to the next job. That would take me up til about 3:30PM and a half hours drive home. I have no recollection of the work I did that afternoon, I can only recall thinking about Helena and anticipating what was going to happen when I got home and drinking as much water as I could. To make it worse, she kept sending me texts, actually they were sexts, another thing we had never done. I kept wondering if this was real, whether someone was playing a cruel joke on me. This was a different woman than the one I thought I knew. Well, not different, but a whole new dimension that was just being discovered, by both of us.

I was speeding on the way home. I didn’t care if I got booked I needed to get home urgently as my erection bubbled underneath by jeans, trying to burst through my fly to freedom. I also had a full bladder and was feeling just slightly desperate. I flew down our long gravel driveway, much faster than I’d ever driven on it before, bouncing on the ruts and kicking up clouds of dust. Pulling up at the door in a skid on the gravel I instantly sprang out, not bothering to shut the truck door and burst through the front door of the house, my cock bulging through my jeans.

Helena was waiting there in the middle of the room, several towels arranged under and around her on the timber floor. She was absolutely naked, on her knees, her buttocks resting on her heels. I met her beautiful blue-green eyes with mine, her wavy blond hair cascaded down luxuriantly to the middle of her back, some strands forward over her shoulders, terminating at her pert breasts, those nipples that turn me on so much, rigid with anticipation. If not for the evidence of 53 years of laughter, joy, sorrow and grief in her face, I could have bee looking, lusting at a teenager. She had an expression on her face I’d rarely seen on her, unadulterated lust. Bloody Hell this woman still looked amazing I thought to myself.

Through my peripheral vision I saw an empty bottle of wine and a pitcher of water on the side table, she had been drinking, obviously. Understandable that this new sexual adventure would need some Dutch courage. My computer was still playing one of my videos. She’d been watching them all afternoon I surmised.

“Welcome home Lover” she said.

I stood, absolutely speechless, my mouth gaping at this splendid vision before me. I surveyed down her athletic body, past her breasts down to her amazing abdominal muscles. Her knees were wide open, exposing her pussy. Stunned once again by what I saw, she had shaven her pussy, her glistening and generously proportioned labia unfettered by hair.

As I looked at her, overcome by lust, I was also overcome by absolute adoration, that this woman whom I loved that has been so inhibited has taken such a bold step over the precipice from prude to overtly sexually adventurous woman. Only a few hours ago having her conservative sensibilities shocked by finding some the most kinky and depraved videos in existence on her husband’s computer, coming to terms with them and accepting his kinks and then admitting and coming to terms with her own. Now she was about to play them out with him, with me. I was so hard, the head of my cock so engorged with blood I though it might split open.

“Come play with me” she beckoned.

I fumbled with my clothes, trying to get them off as fast as humanly possible and failing spectacularly, essentially trying to get my shirt and trousers off at the same time. Helena giggled at my unintentional physical comedy act. Eventually I succeeded, reluctantly realizing a bit of method was required if I was going to get naked. Successful, I violently threw my cloths aside in a faux tantrum. There I was, naked at last, standing there looking at her, my cock painfully erect, my balls aching from three and a half hours of anticipation. There she was, ready for her new sexual adventure, her implanted modesty, ripped up, shredded and cast out forever.