PO'd

Let's contemplate the simple task of pissing--that simple mechanism of relieving one's body of liquid waste. Having little experience (to wit, none) with the female expression of excretion, I will limit this dissertation to the male.

First, and obviously, the male excretes this liquid waste, or urine (it's hard enough to type this word much less two words -- so, we'll call it PISS) through his penis. Yep, your man's cock is a multifunction tool suitable for getting pissed off, screwing up, fucking around, and just generally being male.

Now, ladies, I can think of few times when your man will NOT want his penis fondled and stroked by your gentle and loving fingers. Two at least come to mind. The first is during that 'God forbid' time when he might be in the process of passing a kidney stone. The other is first thing in the morning when that hard-on your man has signifies an extreme need to relieve himself of said piss!

Commonly known as a piss hard-on, your man's erection is indeed hard, and suitable for positive stroking. And he may even welcome such loving caresses until... you press a little too hard on the poor guy's bladder. Of course, the amount of discomfort is directly proportional to the force of the pressure exerted times the volume contained in the bladder. That moaning, ladies, may NOT be due to your man's great pleasure.

Both sexes find occasion to potty break several times during the day depending on the amount of liquid ingested, the exercise level of said individual, and the corresponding temperature of his or her surroundings. Normally, going to the bathroom is not a problem.

But what happens when the urge hits and you're not in the position to act upon it? For example, I was recently driving up I-95 with bumper-to-bumper traffic as far as the eye could see (literally miles). With the nearest exit miles away, no turn off in sight, and me in the far left lane, my only recourse was the proverbial empty Coke bottle. Since I was driving, in mixed company, and without any empty container, I was out of luck. Wishing and hoping, waiting and holding, squeezing and cursing were my only companions in my dilemma.

One hour later, we're moving and I'm off at the first available exit. There's a gas station. Do YOU feel compelled to buy something just to use the rest room? I do! And, I did -- relief at any price!

So, I'm in the rest room waiting for the few other guys ahead of me, crossing my legs and squeezing tightly. I am so ready for that glorious feeling of relief.

OMG, it won't come! I CAN'T PISS! I've been holding it for so long, my body can't seem to make the adjustment to let go. 'Oh, please,' I tell my brain. 'Let go; just a little.' But, the signal's blocked.

Finally, a few drops leak out (don't try so hard). Then a small stream (that's it, loosen up a little more). And, thar she blows! Out it comes with little warning; you almost miss the urinal. You stand there feeling such relief that shivers travel up your spine. Tilting your head back, you take a deep breath and exhale slowly. A euphoric feeling, akin to a very small orgasm, washes over you as you literally feel your stretched bladder empty its load. Once begun, an act of God could not stem the tide. If a fire broke out, only the direction would change, a steady stream sure to beat back the most insistent flames.

The flow trickles to just a few drops. Another involuntary shudder courses through you as you shake the last drops from your flaccid penis. How do you spell relief?

P - I - S - S.