Piss Queen — Reprint

Shannon Barber
5 min readAug 11, 2022

Originally appeared at the Weeklings July 2014

Content warning- Pee Kink

I DID NOT GROW UP to be a Piss Queen.

[image description: a brown skinned femme person wearing dark lipstick and bright leather restraints. Photo by Kamaji Ogino: https://www.pexels.com/photo/crop-woman-in-bdsm-collar-lying-on-bed-5066282/]

After a month or more complaining about my unrequited baby lesbian love, I was set up on my first blind date by my patient friends.

She was slightly older than me, Butch, kinky, smart, funny and above all not looking for a serious girlfriend — according to her text message.

She met me at a prearranged bus stop and stood with flowers in hand and looking dapper. When we hugged I put my nose against the skin of her neck and smelled a spicy resinous scent that I discovered was actually a hippie oil knock off of Obsession. I blushed when she stepped back from our hug, made shy by her gaze that sped from my eyes to my tits to my shoes. She licked her lips.

There was a moment when we started walking hand in hand, that I watched her out of the corner of my eye. She gave people that Yes this is my girl look. Being a chubby femme Black girl, I rarely saw that kind of want on the face or in the eyes of my dates and I’d realized then, I ached for it. I remember her warm hand on the small of my back as we walked to the restaurant. When people looked at us, she tightened her grip on me. She didn’t try to pretend we were just friends; it was obvious to everyone that I was hers.

If I close my eyes now and think about that date, I can’t remember the exact details. We had an intense nerdy conversation about Dune. We debated the possible ramifications of lesbian Bene Gesserit faction taking over Arrakis. Between the nerding and flirting we talked about other books and our mutual newly acquired love affair with swing dancing.

After dinner we shared a cigar, a scotch and cheesecake — my favorite dessert. Then, I was ready to hand over my panties.

So when she asked if we could see each other again my answer was a resounding hell yes.

By our second date, I was blinded by the booty. My mind was set on fucking the smirk right off of her face. All I wanted was to get back to her apartment and get naked.

Over a big plate of fries and a pitcher of beer, we established: