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The elevator chimed, the car had arrived. Our reflections separated as the doors slid open, revealing the dark wood interior with the red carpet. This private elevator was only used by Mr. Smith and a few other associates whose offices were on the 32nd floor of the building. We stepped inside and turned to face the front. I pushed the button marked "32."

As the doors slid shut Mr. Smith turned to me, his usual smirk on his face, his hands on his belt buckle.

"I need to piss."

I felt my mouth run dry at his words. I knew the man, I knew he meant right here, right now. I glanced at him, he was already unbuckling his pants. My pussy began to throb.

I turned to face him and sunk to my knees, putting my leather folio off to the side. As he unzipped his fly I unbuttoned my blouse to my navel, letting my F-cup breasts free. I pushed my breasts together and up with my hands, just the way he liked.

I glanced at the lighted numbers at the top of the elevator. Fourth floor. I opened my mouth wide.

Mr. Smith pulled his cock free, but even flaccid he was a good five inches or so. He took a step forward and lined his trajectory up with my pink tongue. He smiled down at me as he began to pee.

The first stream hit my chin, but he corrected a bit and suddenly his acrid piss was landing directly on my tongue. He knew how to hold back so he didn't fill my mouth up too quickly, that way I got a good taste of it before I swallowed.

"That's a good girl," he cooed. "Open wide for me. Don't spill a drop."

My eyes teared up as he kept filling my mouth with his yellow piss, the taste tingled on my tongue. I kept swallowing as much and as quickly as I could so as not to spill, and so as not to drown. With each swallow my pussy throbbed harder, and it took a lot of control to keep my hands presenting my breasts to him instead of wandering under my skirt.

"There we go." Mr. Smith said. He was keeping one eye on the elevator numbers too, we were on the twelfth floor. "You're such a greedy slut, there was no way you'd let me use the executive wash room when your thirsty throat was right here."

I couldn't say anything, I just kept my mouth open and he kept his stream of piss hitting my tongue. I prayed no other executives or board members tried to get on the elevator from another floor, what a mess that would be. We passed the sixteenth floor, almost halfway there. I swallowed another mouthful of piss, and another, all while keeping one eye on the lit numbers above the elevator door.

"You're the dirtiest secretary I've ever had," Mr. Smith complimented me. "You're the first whore to let me use her mouth like a urinal. Are you getting off on this?"

My brows furrowed and I nodded vaguely without spilling a drop.

"You love gargling my piss, don't you? Is your pussy wet?"

His stream was letting up, good thing too since we were on floor twenty-two. I nodded a little too vigorously this time, his piss hit my chin and dribbled onto my full breasts before I recovered and was able to line my mouth back up with his stream.

He took a step closer as he finished peeing, his weaker stream of urine meant he needed to get a little closer to make sure it landed in my mouth.

"That's it," he said. "Swallow every last drop. Don't mess the carpet."

The burning in my pussy was insistent, I'm sure I had a big wet spot on my satin panties. We were on floor twenty-six by the time the last few drops dribbled from the head of his penis into my eager mouth. He shook his cock so that the final drops hit my tongue, my lips, my chin. He watched me swallow the last bit as he tucked his penis back into his trousers. I licked my lips while he watched, tasting the last of him.

"Say it," he growled while buckling his belt.

"Thank you sir for using me as your private toilet," I said, my voice hoarse from drinking his piss. My nose was still filled with his scent. "I enjoyed swallowing your piss."

He smiled down at me while I buttoned my blouse.

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