Wet Thoughts On A Wet Day

Its raining hard outside, I'm on my second cup of caffeine and watching the fish swim about their tank- and I'm needing to pee badly. Which naturally enough leads me to be sitting here squirming excitedly and pondering my favourite fluids.

Blood, of course, smeared across lips and thighs. Ejaculate, of various varieties, stinging my tongue and sticking limbs together. Sweat leaving salty outlines on the sheets and tingling on fresh wounds. Spit straight from one mouth to the other, in my eyes and dribbling down my chin. Tears soaking into pillows, lube leaking from me when I stand up, milk seduced from engorged breats. WD40 and diesel, greasing back my hair and scenting my skin. Cold coffee and flat beer quenching hard-earned thirsts. Cold creeks washing the dirt from my feet, warm ocean waters crashing against aching bodies stretched open and sore. Piss consumed straight from the source, trace elements and toxins hitting the back of my throat.