“How many men have pissed down my throat?” Kelsey wondered. “I mean, not even in the three years I’ve worked as a urinal, but just today. I have no idea. I keep telling myself I’ll find another job but-”
Her thoughts were interrupted as another drunk man crashed through the door to the restroom and stumbled over to her. He grabbed a handful of her purple hair, pulled her head back so she was looking up and pointed his cock at her mouth, held open with the spreader.
The splash of acrid water was always a shock at first, but she guzzled down every drop that slid down her tongue. Sure, he missed a few times, spraying her tits and face with piss, but she was able to move her head enough to catch most of it, despite the burning pain of her scalp where he held her hair firm.
He let go of her hair, shook his cock towards her face, splashing the last few drops into her hair, and then he stumbled out again.
“I think about changing jobs, but then something like that happens and I know I can’t stop being a urinal!” she thought.
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