Moaningful Confessions | Mr. Squirt, Mr. Peanut Butter

Moaningful Confessions | Mr. Squirt, Mr. Peanut Butter

It was your average Saturday night on Re-O week, I'd finished up at Castle and figured it was time to pull. I had just seen the guy that ghosted me pull another bird and I needed to crack on. With perfect timing, I got a Snapchat from a Tinder guy who I had been talking with a little. I thought, “yeah, let's give this guy a chance”, and we headed to his place, which was scarily close to mine. At this point, I REALLY needed to pee, but I decided that I was a big girl and I could hold it. I got there, and we head up to his room. After a few minutes of awkward small talk, we started kissing, which resulted in his hand down my pants. We got to the juicy stuff and started fucking. 

I thought I was doing a good job holding in all the urine I had stored in my bladder. Then, I felt something wet on my thighs. I just ignored it at first, until I looked down and saw a clear liquid all over my legs. At this point I thought to myself, “fuck. Did I just piss on this guy's dick?” I got up to see the horrific puddle and mess that I had just made spanning about a quarter of this dude's bed. I went to the bathroom to see if I still needed to pee, and turns out, I did! I peed a LOT. I realised I must’ve actually squirted. I thought this stuff in porn was fake and had no clue I had this talent, as no other guy had made me squirt. 

But I was still extremely embarrassed of the mess I had just made and needed to get home.  I told Mr. Squirt “I’m just gonna go home, sorry, I’ve never done that before.” He was disappointed that I didn’t stay, and we began to chat about his room. This led to Mr. Squirt telling me about his love for peanut butter, and the fact that he just eats it straight from the jar. I didn’t think much of it, until he showed me his drawer which had probably 15 empty jars of peanut butter he had smashed. I realised it was definitely my time to go home, and maybe this Mr. Squirt guy was actually kinda weird. 

The next week rolls around. He had sent me a few Snapchats, and on Thursday I agreed to him coming over since I felt bad for not staying last time. We fucked again and I didn’t squirt, which I pleased about, because I just knew that washing my mattress protector would've been a bitch. Afterwards, there was absolutely no good chat from Mr. Squirt and I realised I actually didn’t like him as much as I’d thought. He slept over, said some weird shit in his sleep, we woke up, and fucked again. Then, it happened. 

I could actually feel it coming, so I grabbed a towel mid-sex and placed it underneath to catch the waterfall that was about to come out of me. It was a torrent. I've been too embarrassed to hang out with him again since then. It's just too messy. Sorry Mr. Squirt, it's nothing personal. 

Actually, maybe it was the peanut butter.

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Have something juicy to tell us? Send your salacious stories to moaningful@critic.co.nz. Submissions remain anonymous. 

This article first appeared in Issue 16, 2022.
Posted 6:36pm Monday 25th July 2022 by Critic.