Ondinist

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  1. Ondinist

    Valerie 22 - Paris

    Léa was sitting in the kitchen of her mother's flat in Neuilly, a prosperous and rather genteel suburb of Paris, sipping black coffee but ignoring the half-eaten croissant that lay on her plate. It was Saturday morning, a week after her return from London, and she was feeling at a low ebb despite the bright sunshine of a cold, crisp November day. She had two days of dull boredom to look forward to before she returned to her lycée and the relentless teasing of the clique of girls who had persecuted her throughout her school life. It had, of course, never occurred to her that the group was now actually jealous of her for being singled out to attend a high-powered mathematics seminar, for making a week-long trip to London unaccompanied, for the publicly delivered praise she had received from her professeurs for the positive impression she had made on the Imperial College staff and, most unforgivably of all, for returning looking far more poised, self-confident and chic than the timid little mouse they were used to disparaging so easily. Léa had even started to attract approving looks from some of the boys in the school. For Léa the worst thing of all was that her relationship with Daniel, the boy she had met at the seminar and who had seemed so nice and kind, was over before it could even be said to have started. He had emailed her soon after her return to Paris, wanting to arrange an opportunity for them to meet up again but after much reflection and heartache, she had replied a couple of days ago to explain about her susceptibility to wetting accidents and to say that for this reason it was best that they did not see each other again. That night she had cried herself to sleep. Since then she had heard nothing from Daniel - silence. He might at least have said goodbye, she thought. ------------ The door intercom buzzed. A moment later her mother called out "Léa, there is an English boy outside who wants to see you. Do you want to speak with him? Shall I allow him to come up?" Puzzled, Léa replied "I'll go down and see who it is." She walked down the communal staircase and opened the front door to the apartments. There, standing on the steps and holding an enormous bouquet of flowers, was Daniel. "I thought it would be better if we talked face to face" he said. "I hope you don't mind." ------------ Daniel had arrived on the overnight coach from London and was due to return the same way that night. He had never visited Paris before so Léa decided to give him on a one-day tour of the city's most famous sights. They started by taking the Métro to Hôtel de Ville and braving the icy wind as they walked across the Pont d'Arcole to Notre Dame cathedral. After admiring the Gothic interior they had taken the rooftop tour, laughing as they photographed each other among the gargoyles that leered out over the city. Concerned to hear that Daniel had had nothing to eat for 24 hours apart from a rather stale cheese roll at the coach station in London last night, Léa proposed an early lunch. They found a small restaurant in the Île de la Cité and when they were seated in a snug corner Daniel returned to the subject of Léa's email. "You were extraordinarily brave to write so honestly about what must be a difficult subject for you. I wanted to explain, face to face, that for me it doesn't matter at all. Although we've only known each other for a few days I already know that I'm in love with you - I've never been more certain of anything in my life. "And since you have been so open with me, let me be honest in return and tell you something that embarrasses me when I think about it. "The night after the symposium ended I dreamed of you. You were lying beside me, half asleep, and you were wetting the bed. The strange part for me is that was the most erotic thing I have ever imagined. At that moment I wanted you so badly. And don't forget that this was long before you told me about your - problem - so I had no particular reason then to associate you with wetting accidents." Léa's eyes grew round. "When did you say you had this dream?" she asked. "Oh please don't be offended!" Daniel stammered. "I - I only told you because I want you to believe me when I say that if you wet yourself sometimes it wouldn't put me off....I don't want you to think I'm weird or something...." His voice tailed off. "No, I'm not offended - not at all. I just want to know exactly when you had the dream." "It was that Friday morning a week ago, just as I was waking up. About seven, I suppose it would have been." "Because the truly bizarre thing is" said Léa slowly "I did wet the bed that Friday morning. I'd slept very deeply all night and I was in that unreal state between being asleep and awake when everything is completely relaxed. My body just let go. I was horrified when I realised what I was doing because I was staying with my friend Valérie in her London flat. Fortunately for me, she was very kind about it. "And I don't wet my bed very often - not more than once a year or so - so that's quite a coincidence. If it is a coincidence." They looked at each other in astonishment. After a moment, Daniel reached across the table and took Léa's hand in his. "So" he said, looking deep into her eyes. "Will you allow me to be your boyfriend?" ------------ After lunch they walked hand in hand across the Pont au Double and picked up one of the glass-topped riverboat shuttles for a ride along the Seine. Léa pointed out the sights of Paris as they passed and they eventually disembarked at the foot of the Eiffel Tower. "Wow - its huge!" said Daniel, gazing up. "Let's go to the top!" Excitedly he led the way to the ticket kiosk. Like many Parisians, Léa had never been up the tower and she was not at all sure she wanted to do so now but she didn't want to spoil Daniel's evident enjoyment of the city - her city. She secretly hoped there would be an impossibly long queue but, this being lunchtime in France, they found they would only need to wait about thirty minutes Daniel bought them hot coffees to help counter the cold wind. Léa wondered if she should take the precaution of going to the lavatory beforehand but they had both used the restaurant's toilet only an hour ago and she told herself that she couldn't really need to go again so soon afterwards. It was just imagination....wasn't it? They crowded into the lift for the first and second levels. Léa was disconcerted by the massive girders flashing past the windows and by the way the lift floor adjusted to keep the car horizontal as it climbed the splayed leg of the tower. Her heart was racing but she managed to stay outwardly calm. They spilled out on to the busy second floor with its restaurants and gift shops and joined another queue for the long ascent up the spine of the tower to the top. This much smaller lift car was even more crowded and Léa and Daniel were huddled close to the glass side, watching the rooftops of Paris slowly recede below them. Léa started to panic. "I don't like this!" she whispered to Daniel. He put his arms protectively around her and held her close. "Its OK, he murmured. Can't be much further now." The lift slowed, the view disappeared and the doors opened on to the narrow platform at the top of the tower, open to the elements apart from a balustrade topped by a cage to protect the suicidal and the terminally stupid. When Léa felt the whole tower rocking slightly in the wind she almost wet herself. She clung to Daniel's arm and squeezed her legs tightly together. "You really aren't happy up here, are you?" Daniel asked with concern. Silently she shook her head. He led her straight back to the lift doors. There were people waiting but they were able to get in to the next lift down. Léa brushed away a tear. "I'm sorry" she murmured, looking away from him out of the window. "Those tickets were expensive and I've spoilt the whole thing." Daniel turned her around to face him and kissed her gently on the forehead. She looked sorrowfully up at him. Tenderly, he wiped away a tear from her other cheek and gave her another gentle kiss, this time on the lips. Once back on the ground they walked hand in hand across the Pont d'Iena to the Trocadéro gardens. On the far bank of the Seine the Eiffel Tower stood magnificent in the autumn sunshine. Daniel put his arm round Léa's slim waist, drawing her close to him as they gazed back at one of the most romantic views anywhere on the planet. Eventually, she broke the silence. "I'm never going to go up that bloody thing again!" ------------ From the Trocadéro they walked up the broad, tree-lined avenue to the Bois de Boulogne, the forest remnant that now forms a huge park on the western side of the city, just south of Léa's mother's Neuilly flat. Léa's need for a pee was increasing by the minute. There are plenty of public lavatories on the streets of Paris but almost all of them are sanisettes, automated pods that Léa's claustrophobia would never allow her to use. She would rather wet herself - and occasionally did. They entered the park close to the the Lac Inférieur and Daniel suggested hiring a rowing boat. By now, Léa was preoccupied by how badly she needed to pee but she felt ashamed of herself for curtailing their Eiffel Tower visit so, without protest, she stepped delicately in to the boat and sat in the stern. Daniel clambered in, sat down facing her and picked up the oars. He rowed her slowly round the lake's central island, looking at the lovely creature opposite him in her warm jumper and heavy winter skirt, her scarf wrapped stylishly round her neck. She was crossing and re-crossing her legs restlessly and he was surprised to see that what he had taken for thick tights were actually thigh-high socks with a glimpse of white briefs between them. He wondered what she was thinking as she gazed out at the beautiful scenery. She was, in fact, thinking how cold it was getting and wondering whether they would get back to land before she soaked her knickers, her skirt and the boat's seat. Mercifully for Léa, they did make it back before disaster struck. Even then, despite Daniel's steadying hand, she almost lost control when she stood up in the swaying boat and stepped on to the landing stage. They set off on a narrow path that Léa knew would eventually bring them out of the park close to her home. When they had gone a short distance into the woods, she stopped walking and looked around to make sure that nobody was in sight apart from Daniel. "I'm sorry" she said "but I need to pee desperately and I'm not going to get home before I wet my culotte. I'd rather do it here, out of sight, than have a public accident on the street where I live." She stepped on to the grass beside the path, spread her legs wide and let go. Daniel watched as a stream appeared beneath her skirt and pattered on to the ground between her parted feet. When she eventually finished, Léa came up close to Daniel and said apologetically "You did say you wouldn't mind...." By way of answer he took her in his arms and kissed her passionately. She felt him hard against her. "Are you going to do that every time I wet myself?" she asked with a smile. "Oh, I expect so!" "In that case maybe I'll do it more often" she murmured, looking up at him with a naughty girl expression. He gave her another long, passionate kiss. "I think we'd better get back to the flat now" Léa said, disentangling herself and resuming their walk. "Mother insists you have dinner with us before you travel back to London tonight. I think she approves of you. Arriving with flowers is definitely her idea of how things should be done." Despite the rapidly cooling wetness between her legs, Léa felt happier than she had been for many years. She had wet herself in front of Daniel and it didn't matter. Even better, he liked it! Smiling up at him she said "If I'm going to have accidents-on-purpose just for you, I must buy myself some nice little culottes - do you say panties in English?" "British girls call them knickers" he replied, not really caring what she called them as long as he was there when she was wetting them. "Panties is more American. But as you're French you can choose for yourself." "You're so kind!" she replied with a mock curtsy. "Panties, then. It sounds prettier." They emerged from the park and walked up the street towards Léa's mother's flat. Turning a corner they came face to face with two of her tormentors from school. The expressions on their faces when they saw her hand in hand with Daniel was something that Léa would treasure for a long time to come.
  2. Ondinist

    Anxiety

    This rang true for me. My demons were not about pee but they were powerful demons nonetheless. All of us who have been through this dark place are on your side. Good luck.
  3. Ondinist

    Valerie 21 - Bistro

    Hi Lhansen! Great to hear from you! Yes, its definitely time to hear from Angela again. I haven' forgotten your very sexy account of the ladies sunbathing and drinking wine on the shore of a river that was too cold to bathe in - with inevitable consequences for their swimsuits - but haven't found a way to work it into a story yet. Unless...... One more Léa story on the stocks, then back to Angela and her girls.
  4. Ondinist

    Valerie 21 - Bistro

    Once again, thanks to all for the positive feedback to this and previous stories, it means a lot to me to know that you are enjoying them. Thanks in particular for the ideas for future story lines. It is always difficult to think of new angles so as to prevent the series becoming repetitive. Please keep the ideas coming!
  5. Ondinist

    Valerie 21 - Bistro

    It was the last day of Léa's stay with us at Valerie's Docklands flat and we were having a farewell evening meal in a local bistro before she returned to France the next morning. Léa's first visit to London had not started well. She was a small, rather scrawny, nervous, shy and socially awkward girl who seemed much younger than her 17 years and she had wet herself during the long trip from Heathrow Airport to Valerie's Docklands flat (Valerie 20). The following day, Valerie had taken Léa under her wing. Léa had emerged from Valerie's local hair and beauty salon with a cropped, street urchin hairstyle and subtle makeup that skilfully enhanced her elfin features, after which the girls had gone shopping in Valerie's favourite boutiques for some well-chosen fashion classics. Léa's transformation into a gamine beauty had given a boost to her self-confidence. Not that this had stopped Léa wetting herself. Only this morning, as Valerie and I were having breakfast, Léa had appeared in tears, pee dripping from her soaked boy-shorts and a large wet patch on the front of her t-shirt. Between sobs she confessed that she had slept deeply all night and had only woken up a few minutes ago when she realised she was wetting the bed. Valerie had put a comforting arm round her heaving little shoulders and led her gently away to shower and change. As we dined by candlelight in the restaurant, I noticed that Léa, now looking poised and alluring in the peach-coloured dress she had bought earlier in the week, was attracting a great deal of attention from the young Italian waiter, who never missed an opportunity to top up our, and especially her, wine and water glasses. Léa's soulful eyes sparkled with excitement as she talked enthusiastically about the mathematics seminar she had attended. "I've decided to apply for a place at Imperial once I have completed my baccalauréat" she announced. "Why there, particularly?" Valerie enquired. Rather to my surprise, this innocent question caused Léa to blush deeply. There was, she murmured quietly, a boy - "trés sympa, trés gentil" - who had engaged her in conversation during the coffee break on the first morning of the seminar and they had sat together for the rest of the conference. He was a first-year maths student at Imperial and they had exchanged mobile phone numbers to keep in touch when she returned to France. Léa, it seemed, was discovering that she could be attractive to boys and it was an entirely novel experience for her. But suddenly her mood changed. "What's the use?" she sighed, eyes downcast. "It will never last." "Why shouldn't it?" asked Valerie. "As you both know by now, I sometimes have - accidents" Léa replied in a subdued voice. "Sooner or later it would happen when I am with him and that will be the end of it." "Is there some kind of medical problem?" asked Valerie gently. Léa shook her head. "The doctors say there is nothing at all wrong physically, though I do have a smaller than average vessie - I don't know the word in English - so it can fill up rather quickly. "When I started school I was too shy to say that I needed the toilet and sometimes I ended up making a puddle where I was sitting. The other children teased me mercilessly and that just made it worse. All the way through my school years I have been the rather strange, maigre girl who is a maths freak and wets herself. - I don't have many friends." Léa was looking down, twisting her napkin in her hands and seeming close to tears. "Well, you have some friends now!" said Valerie firmly. "Oh, I know!" Léa replied with sincerity. "You have been so kind to me, Valèrie, and you too, Tom!" Her French accent really was rather appealing, I thought. "Going to university is an opportunity to re-invent yourself" said Valerie. "The students there will almost certainly all be strangers so they won't know about your past accidents and how you were teased at school. You can put all of that in the past." "You'll probably still have accidents from time to time but you can manage them to limit the embarrassment and minimise the damage" said Valerie. "It starts with wearing the right clothes so that if you do wet your knickers there is no obvious sign afterwards, even if it is embarrassing at the time. Even better, if you think you might not make it to the loo you may be able to find somewhere to wet yourself discreetly without anybody seeing what you are doing. "I often wet myself, sometimes by accident but more often on purpose. I really don't like using public loos so in summer I wear a short skirt or dress and have bare legs so that I can easily wet my knickers instead. And although I don't often wet myself on purpose when its cold, I never wear tights, just in case. Thigh-length socks under a heavy winter skirt keep me nice and warm and I can still do a wee in my knickers if I need to, without getting everything else wet. "So now you know why I suggested buying hold-up stockings rather than tights to go with that new dress of yours!" Again Léa blushed in embarrassment as she contemplated the possibilities. I signalled for the bill. The young Italian waiter brought it over and topped up Léa's glass one final time. "One other thing you need to know," said Valerie, "is that boys are not always put off by a girl wetting herself. Although I often do, Tom and I have been together now for three years. What's more, last summer I wet the bed in my sleep, just like you did this morning. The only difference was that Tom was in it at the time!" Léa smiled shyly at me. "And you know that Emily and Amanda both wet themselves" Valerie continued "but Jack and Callum don't mind. In fact, between ourselves, all three boys rather like it!" Léa's large brown eyes grew round. "Is that - a thing, with boys?" she asked, almost in a whisper. "Certainly with some boys" I confirmed. "So if this boy of yours is put off by you having an accident, just tell yourself that he is not the one for you! But somehow, my guess is that he won't be put off." The waiter reappeared with our coats and was particularly attentive about helping Léa into hers. "I think he wishes he could keep you!" Valerie murmured quietly. Another deep blush. We left the warmth of the restaurant and stepped into the icy November wind that was gusting around the tall buildings. Valerie shivered. "I really should have gone to the loo before we left" she commented. "Me too!" said Léa. Valerie slipped one arm into mine and the other into Léa's and the three of us walked, heads-down into the cold wind off the Thames, back towards Valerie's flat. "You might get a practical demonstration of how to wet your knickers under a winter skirt in a minute!" she said. Léa giggled. "The demonstration might be too late for me by then!" After ten minutes of hurried walking we gained the relative warmth of the entrance lobby. "Come on, come on!" muttered Valerie as she waited for the lift to descend. Eventually the doors opened, we stepped inside and I pressed the button for our floor. Both girls stood with legs crossed as the lift made its way up to our floor. Léa started to cry. "I think I'm going to wet myself!" "Me too!" said Valerie reassuringly. "Try to hold it until we get inside the flat if you possibly can. Here, Tom, take off our coats, quick!" The lift doors opened and Valerie hurried ahead with the key to her flat. As she fiddled with the key in the lock, Léa sobbed in quiet distress and a few drops of pee spattered on to the stone floor beneath her. The door opened and the two girls hurried in to the hallway. "OK Léa, we can do it here on the floor" said Valerie. In fact Léa was already wetting herself uncontrollably where she stood. Hastily she lifted her dress out of the way, revealing white hold-up stockings, a small, very wet pair of plain white cotton briefs and a stream of pee that was splashing on to the hall floor between her parted legs, forming an expanding pool between her shoes. Facing her, Valerie spread her legs wide, put her hands on her hips beneath her lifted skirt. She gave Léa a mischievous grin then, with a look of sweet relief on her face, she started to pee through her dark blue satin panties, creating a second puddle that spread outwards until it joined up with Léa's. I felt myself growing hard as I watched both girls straddling the flood beneath their feet and pissing steadily on to the marble floor until they were completely finished. I attempted to cover my embarrassment. "Er - coffee, anyone?" Valerie winked knowingly at Léa and both girls collapsed in helpless giggles. I still don't know what the joke was.
  6. Ondinist

    Girl pees in front of her mother

    The spanking aspect does nothing for me (its not actually shown in this clip anyway) but the girl and the outfit are just perfect!
  7. Ondinist

    The Wet Sickness

    Unusual, imaginative, definitely worth continuing with!
  8. Ondinist

    I Think You Should Just Pee Your Pants

    No complaints whatever you decide to write. But best wishes to the much-loved witty and fun optimistic Katy.
  9. Ondinist

    Very Short Stories - A Forum Game

    How about a haiku? For example, Bare toes in soft sand Blue bikini, spreading warmth Dark sand, sweet relief
  10. It was a lazy Sunday morning in Valerie's Docklands flat. Some hours ago Valerie had woken me up by sensually caressing me under the duvet. Once she was certain she had my undivided attention she had straddled me and lowered herself on to my rigid cock. There are worse ways to start the day. After I had brought her to a shuddering climax she leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. "You'd better hurry up and finish down there - I'm bursting for a wee!" "Then am I entirely safe with you on top of me?" I enquired. Still mounted on me, Valerie sat upright, arching her back and running her fingers through her hair as she considered the question. "Who can say?" she replied with an air of unconcern. "But if not..." she giggled..."you'll be the first to know!" I exploded inside her. Still giggling, she rolled off me and dashed into the en suite. I heard a stream of pee patter into the shower tray, followed by the sound of running water. I flung back the duvet and followed her into the shower. -------------- Valerie had finished her brunch - two large glasses of orange juice, bacon and eggs and plenty of hot black coffee - some time ago and was now sitting at the kitchen table reading the Sunday Times on her iPad, one long and flawlessly-shaped leg crossed over the other. Her dressing gown was open at the front, revealing that the only other thing she was wearing was a pair of dark blue cotton hipster briefs. Absent-mindedly she had slipped a hand between her legs and was jigging her free foot as she read. The house phone rang. I walked over to the wall-mounted receiver and answered it. It was Angela wanting to talk to her daughter urgently. Valerie stood up and padded barefoot over to the phone. Angela talked for some time. Valerie's brow furrowed. It was clearly something important and not good news. "Oh...I'm sorry to hear that....yes, of course....he has been frail for some time..." She turned to me and gestured for something to write on. "Yes of course she can, Mummy....No, no problem at all.....yes that's fine." Valerie was jigging up and down restlessly but obviously did not want to terminate the conversation. OK, just a minute....Air France 1780...arriving at 1345....Terminal 4...got it." She crossed her legs. "That's OK. I'm sure Tom will...." Her dressing gown was open at the front and I could see the fabric of her briefs start to dampen between her legs. "No, it really is no trouble....it will be nice to see her again...." The damp patch gradually increased in size as Valerie slowly and involuntarily leaked into her knickers. A stray droplet tracked its way down the inside of her left thigh. She rammed her free hand between her legs and held herself tight. Still the conversation went on. "Yes I will...does she know?..." Two or three rivulets of pee were escaping past her clenched hand, snaking down her legs and beginning to pool on the floor around her feet. "Yes of course...I'm sure she is...." I fetched a towel, walked over to Valerie and held it between her legs through her open dressing gown. She flashed me a smile of thanks and let go. The towel grew heavier and I felt warm moisture against my hand. With a final couple of squirts, Valerie finished peeing through her knickers into the towel. "No, that's fine. Leave it with us." I opened the door of the washing machine and lobbed in the saturated towel. Valerie continued to talk on the phone, her soaked knickers still dripping on to the floor. "Yes, yes, you'd better get going.....Do let us know how things are when you get there.....Love to Daddy!" She put the phone down. ----- When she had changed into a clean pair of cotton hipster briefs - pink this time - and added her wet knickers to the pee-drenched towel in the washing machine, together with another towel she had used to mop up the kitchen floor, Valerie sat down and poured herself a fresh cup of coffee.. "Grandad - Daddy's father - is in a nursing home in Gloucestershire. He's been very frail for some time and the home phoned this morning to say that he's taken a turn for the worse and that they think Daddy should get down there as soon as he can. "Anyway Léa - remember her? - is apparently genius-level at maths and her Lycée has organised for her to attend a three-day seminar on maths in code-breaking here in London. It's quite a compliment for her to be invited as she's much younger than the other delegates. "Léa has never travelled abroad on her own so her mother had asked Mummy to pick her up from the airport and look after her whilst she is in London. They were supposed to be seeing the sights tomorrow and then she has the seminar on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. But now Mummy and Daddy have had to drop everything and drive to Gloucestershire so she's asked me if we can look after Léa instead. It's lucky that I don't start my new job until next week! "I'll organise the spare bedroom for her and give Emily a call as we're due there for dinner tonight. Would you be a sweetheart and meet Léa at the airport for me? Unfortunately she's coming in to Heathrow, not City, so you'll need to leave soon. Do you mind?" ----- Valerie had texted Léa before she left Paris so she knew I would be meeting her but as I stood in Heathrow's Terminal 4 arrivals hall waiting for her to appear I was not at all sure how she would be feeling about it. On the only occasion we had met before, when she had spent the day with us at the villa in Tuscany, she had been too shy of me and the other boys to admit that she needed to pee and had ended up wetting herself [Valerie 18]. An only child that her mother had kept rather sheltered, Léa seemed to me to be rather young for her age - she must be at least sixteen, maybe seventeen - naive and somewhat vulnerable. Was, her unworldliness an aspect of her mathematical genius or the result of over-protective parenting? I also knew that such fragile self-confidence as she possessed had taken a severe blow recently when her father and mother separated acrimoniously. Léa walked through from the customs hall and looked around uncertainly until she saw me. Petite, slightly underweight, with an elfin face and large, brown eyes, her plain haircut, her short but shapeless shift dress and her 'sensible' shoes did nothing for her. She gave me a limp, damp handshake and I took her bag. "Pleasant flight?" I asked as we descended the escalators to the Heathrow Express platforms. "I don't really like flying" she said hesitantly. "It feels - claustrophobic - is that a word in English? And why do they have to lean over so much when they are turning?" "Something to do with balancing forces" I replied. "You could ask Jack tonight - he's an airline pilot so he can explain it when we go to Emily's flat for dinner tonight. Just change the subject if he starts writing formulae!" We had just missed a train so we had a fifteen minute wait for the next one to leave. As we were waiting I explained to Léa that Heathrow is London's main airport but it is some distance to the west of London whereas our flat in Docklands is on the eastern side of the city. A new direct rail link is being built but until it opens the journey across London is slow and tedious. And, to complicate things further, the Jubilee tube line that serves Docklands was closed that day for weekend engineering work. Léa had seemed tense whilst we were underground but as soon as the train burst out of the airport tunnel into the afternoon sunshine and swept over the flyover on to the main line towards Paddington she relaxed visibly. But when we left Paddington's vast, echoing arched roof for the warren of underground walkways that led to the Bakerloo line platforms her tension returned. The crowds on the escalator, the screech of wheel flanges on rails, the warm, dusty air all seemed to spook Léa. A train was just leaving as we walked on to the platform so I led her to the far end where I knew the trains would be less crowded. Almost immediately the next train swept round the bend and into the platform and I was glad to see that the last car was almost empty. We sat opposite each other on facing seats and I kept up a line of idle chatter to distract her from her apparent anxiety. Edgware Road, Marylebone, Baker Street - our rapid progress through the station stops seemed to give Léa a little reassurance. But after we left the brightly lit station at Regents Park and plunged once again into the dark, narrow, tube tunnel the train slowed and stopped. Beneath the floor a brake air compressor cut in briefly - then silence. Léa was breathing rapidly, she crossed her legs tightly and her fingers pawed at the fabric of her seat - she was close to panic. I crossed over and sat next to her, putting my arm round her shoulders. She was sweating and shaking with fear and her eyes were those of a hunted animal. "Its OK Léa" I murmured. "Its probably just a red signal. We're right behind that other train, I expect we're waiting for it to leave the next station." Sure enough, a few seconds later the brakes released with a sigh and our train ran forward into the platform. We changed lines at Oxford Circus, walking through narrow underground passageways and stairs crowded with shoppers, then as we walked on to the Central Line platform a train suddenly erupted from the tunnel right beside us. Startled, Léa jumped with fright, then froze, her legs crossed tight. The train whined to a halt and flung its doors open. For a moment I thought Léa might refuse to board the train. I put a reassuring arm round her shoulder and guided her on. "Not too far now" I reassured her. There were seats to be had but she perched herself by the door at one end of the car. Tottenham Court Road, Holborn, Chancery Lane, St Pauls, Bank. Mercifully there were no tunnel stops this time and I was soon leading her through another maze of underground walkways and plunging even deeper downwards to the Docklands Light Railway platforms at Bank station. A train was waiting, almost empty, with its doors open. We boarded but Léa did not seem to want to sit down. "Léa, love, what's the matter?" I asked gently. She made no reply. "Do you need the loo?" She nodded. "Have you wet yourself?" Another nod. She wiped away a tear. "Anything worse?" She shook her head emphatically. "Well, that's not too bad then" I said brightly. "Do you still need to go?" She nodded vehemently and wiped away another tear with the back of her hand. At that moment the doors closed and the train moved off, climbing the steep incline and emerging into sunlight. "Its only about ten minutes to our stop and as far as I know there aren't any loos at the stations" I said. "I think you will find it easier to wait if you sit down. We chose a pair of facing seats and Léa perched on the edge of hers, raising her dress clear at the back as she sat down and briefly revealing her plain white knickers with a damp stain between the legs. Shadwell, Limehouse, Westferry, Léa was shifting in her seat with discomfort, crossing and re-crossing her legs. I kept up a one-sided conversation on the history of London's Docklands to try to distract her but I doubt she took in a single word of it. As the train took the flyover at West India Docks she stood up. I thought she was about to pee on the floor but she walked up and down uneasily for a few minutes before sitting down again. We emerged from under the skyscrapers of Canary Wharf and trundled over the bridge to Heron Quays. "This is our stop" I said. "Just a short walk to the flat." Léa hurried ahead of me down the escalator from the platforms and out into the warmth of a fine autumn afternoon. The office blocks were deserted and very few people were around on this Sunday afternoon. We took one of the walkways beside the water. Suddenly Léa stopped walking, put her face in her hands and started to cry as pee flowed down her legs and into her shoes whilst other streams fell from beneath her dress and splashed on to the paving stones. I put an arm round her little shoulders and kissed her lightly on the top of her head as she continued to wet herself helplessly where she stood. "Its OK, love, there's nobody watching. Anyway, I bet that feels a whole lot better!" She smiled shyly up at me through her tears. ----- That night, after making love, Valerie and I lay in bed quietly discussing Léa. She had dissolved in tears on Valerie's shoulder as soon as we arrived at the flat. Valerie had taken her to her room, soothing her and helping her to deal with her soaked knickers, socks and shoes. Léa had emerged an hour later, freshly showered and having borrowed some of Valerie's makeup to mitigate the effects of her earlier crying. Over pre-dinner drinks at Emily and Jack's flat, Emily had skilfully encouraged Léa to tell us about the seminar she would be attending and Léa, sipping an Orangina, had talked with enthusiasm about the uses of mathematics in code-breaking. Dinner had gone well - Léa had even been confident enough to ask Emily if she could use the loo - and now Léa had wished us goodnight and gone to her room. "I've told her there is a mattress protector on her bed and I've put a spare sheet in her room so she's not to worry if she wets the bed" said Valerie. "But my real concern is how vulnerable she is at the moment. She'll be going to university next year where she'll find boys taking an interest in her and her in them. One of them could so easily break her heart whilst she's like this. The underlying problem is her lack of self-confidence and I'm going to do something about that." "What do you have in mind?" I asked. "You'll see!" Valerie replied enigmatically. ----- The next evening I returned from work to find Valerie and Léa sitting on the balcony enjoying the evening sunshine, Valerie with a glass of chilled white wine, Léa with an Orangina. Léa was transformed. Her hair had been expertly cut in a gamine style that complemented her pixie face, its natural mousey-brown colour enhanced with subtle highlights. She was wearing make-up that emphasised her Audrey Hepburn eyes, applied with such skill and delicacy that it did not detract at all from her youthful freshness. She was wearing lipstick of a natural shade , her eyebrows had been lightly plucked and shaped and her nails manicured to perfection. She was wearing a plain, peach-coloured knee-length dress with a large belt that drew attention to her slim waist. Its understated elegance spoke of expert tailoring and it swayed seductively as she rose gracefully from her seat and walked across to greet me. She was beautiful and she knew it. Confidently, she took both of my hands in hers and said "Tom, I want to thank you properly for being so kind yesterday. I really do appreciate the way you looked after me." She stood on tiptoe and kissed me lightly on the cheek.
  11. Ondinist

    Valerie 17 - Amanda's desperation

    See Valerie 19 and thanks for the idea!
  12. We had all made an effort to look smart, the boys in dinner jackets and the girls in beautiful party dresses and high heeled shoes. Valerie wore a cocktail dress that perfectly matched her captivating blue-grey eyes, Emily's black chiffon party dress emphasised the dark, wavy hair she had inherited from her father and Amanda had a short, flouncy cerise skirt paired with a pink and lilac top, her honey-blonde hair swept up in artful confusion. Earlier, whilst we were getting ready to receive our guests, Valerie had teased me by sitting on my lap in a light blue bra and panty set, paired with sexy-looking garter stockings. Dodging my wandering hands, she had whispered that she and her sisters had all agreed they would all wear seductive lingerie to the party "for afterwards". Valerie's cooking had been a great success and at the end of the meal Emily had made a pretty speech to thank Peter and Angela, the girls' parents, for the keys to her new flat. Peter and Angela then left the party to return to their London townhouse but nobody else had to travel anywhere as Amanda and Callum were staying overnight with us and Emily and Jack's new flat was in the same block as ours. A third flat would be Amanda's after her 21st birthday. We lingered at the dining table to finish the wine - a process that involved opening fresh bottles from time to time - and to drink coffee and brandy. We were all pleasantly relaxed and the conversation was becoming increasingly uninhibited. Emily had been enthusiastically describing the work she and Jack were doing to furnish and decorate her new flat when Valerie asked, with deceptive innocence, whether she was at all worried about leaks and spillages on carpets. "I'm going to keep the marble flooring with just a few rugs" Emily replied, before seeing the mischievous twinkle in Valerie's eyes and realising that she was referring to the uninhibited pee play that we all knew Emily indulged in with Jack in his old Limehouse flat and in the privacy of their room at the villa in Tuscany. She blushed bright red but joined in the laughter around the table. "I - I mean, its such nice flooring it seems a shame to cover it up...." she stammered. "I'd stop digging if I were you" Amanda advised, to more laughter. "Don't let Valerie embarrass you" I said. "You know perfectly well that all three of us boys are wired up the same way. We're putty in your hands when you girls wet yourselves for us!" "Hard putty in your case" Valerie retorted. "Positively stiff." Callum said thoughtfully "You know, you three girls are - rather unusual in that respect - not that I am complaining for one moment! When I first met Amanda she was wetting her knickers." "Why am I not surprised?" Emily murmured. "I needed a wee!" Amanda protested, giggling. "We were on our way back to the student flats after going out clubbing and it was a long walk and it was cold! What's a girl supposed to do? And anyway, remind me, what were you doing at the time?" "Having a pee" Callum conceded. "I just wasn't doing it in my pants." "Well, its easier for boys!" Amanda declared with a pout. "In any case, as I recall the way that night developed, you didn't seem to be in the least put off by my wet knickers." "Far from it!" Callum acknowledged. "I'm just curious to know how how it all started." "It actually goes back quite a long way" said Valerie thoughtfully. We never met our grandmother because she died shortly after I was born but I gather she was very much into the hippie scene of the 1960s and 1970s, living in some sort of commune and travelling from one music festival to another. Certainly my mother and her brothers all had different fathers, none of whom stayed around. The commune didn't last long and my mother and her step-brothers were raised in a tiny cottage deep in the countryside with no proper plumbing - water from a pump and a ghastly chemical toilet in an outhouse. "They were free to roam wild whenever they were not at school and they would often stay out all day. Her brothers would simply pee into a bush whenever they needed to but they teased her unmercifully if she squatted down with her knickers round her ankles. However she soon found that she could wet herself under her dress without her brothers noticing anything. Her mother didn't mind at all and said that she used to do the same thing at music festivals because the loos were always indescribably awful." "Us three girls were brought up the same way" Valerie continued. "When we were old enough to understand, she confided in us that sometimes the easiest thing for a girl to do is to wet herself and that we were allowed to do so provided we didn't cause damage, offend anybody or embarrass ourselves. It was something to be kept strictly within the family. "It was to prove very useful on long car trips to Italy, though. When the building work on the Tuscan villa was eventually finished, Mummy went round furniture auctions and architectural salvage sites finding things to furnish it. Daddy bought a Range Rover and a trailer so that we could drive all this stuff down to Italy ourselves - on one occasion we had a life-size statue strapped to the roof rack." Amanda, who was sitting beside me, had become uncharacteristically quiet. She was listening attentively to Valerie's story, one hand cupped under her pretty little chin. Beneath the table the napkin that had been covering her lap had slipped to the floor and I could now see that she had pushed up her cerise skirt, revealing the tops of stockings, bare thighs and a glimpse of lacy panties, and was holding herself with her other hand, which was clamped between her tightly crossed legs. Clearly she was in desperate need of a pee but was determined to ignore it so as not to miss the conversation. I knew from experience that Amanda's habit of putting off a visit to the loo did not always end well - or, more exactly from my point of view, did not always end dry. Like a good host, I topped up everybody's wine and water glasses and awaited developments. "Our first car trip to Italy trip was a bit of a disaster" said Emily. "London to the villa is over a thousand miles and we were constantly having to stop because one or other of us needed the loo and that seemed to make the journey last for ever. "In those days a lot of the French motorway rest areas only had a concrete hut with a hole-in-the-floor loo that you had to squat over. What was worse, nobody ever seemed to clean them. We all hated them. So much so that at one stop I pretended that I didn't need the loo. Shortly afterwards I ended up in tears, sitting in the puddle that I had made on the expensive leather seat. Although Daddy was sweet about it I was still very upset." Valerie took up the narrative again. "When we were planning the next trip, Daddy came up with a brilliant idea. He worked out that if he and Mummy shared the driving and we only stopped for lunch and overnight we could easily do the whole trip in two days, saving a second overnight stop and a further half day on the road. "He explained that Range Rovers are used a lot for country sports like grouse shooting and owners often fit tailored waterproof seat covers to protect against rain and mud. He suggested buying a set of these and agreeing that on the next trip we didn't have to stop just for a wee. He promised that he would always stop if we really wanted to but if not we could just wee in our knickers. "We were all in favour of this as it meant a quicker journey and, best of all, we wouldn't have to use those horrible roadside loos. So we agreed to give it a try next trip. Valerie paused for a sip of wine. She shifted in her seat and crossed her legs. I noticed that Emily also seemed fidgety and had her legs tightly crossed. So, dear reader, picture the scene. There I am, sitting at a dinner table with three beautiful and elegantly dressed young women, knowing that they were all wearing exciting lingerie beneath their expensive-looking dresses and that all of them showing signs of needing to pee - at least one apparently close to wetting herself. Are you surprised that some interesting fantasies were floating into my mind? I filled up everybody's glass again. Valerie continued her story. "Mummy put folded towels on our seats and told us to make sure that our dresses were out of the way if we were going to wet our knickers. We set off off very early in the morning with Mummy driving and in less than two hours we were at the Eurotunnel terminal at Folkestone where we drove straight on to the next shuttle train, skipping the terminal building. We had a picnic breakfast in the car during the journey through the Channel Tunnel, then straight off at the other end and on to the autoroute southwards. "The fizzy pop I had drunk with my picnic soon worked its way through so I just let go and wet myself where I was sitting. It was so easy that from then onward I didn't bother to hold it at all, I just released trickles and spurts into my knickers, which were already soaked anyway. I loved the feeling of cruising down the autoroute playing on my Game Boy whilst letting out yet another warm flood. In fact I still have to remind myself not to automatically wet the seat when I am being driven on a long journey! "By the time we stopped for lunch all three of us had all done a wee in our seats so Mummy handed out fresh knickers for us to change into in the car before we went into the restaurant. All the wet things just went into a plastic container in the boot. "When we came out she put fresh towels on our seats and Daddy took over the driving. We'd all used the loo in the restaurant so we stayed dry for some time but it was a long afternoon and one by one each of us wet ourselves, including Mummy. She said she did it to save time but I think she just wanted to give it a try herself. We had been careful to keep our dresses clear and when we walked in to our night-stop hotel near Dijon there was nothing to see. Then showers, a nice meal and a good night's sleep. "The second day followed the same pattern and with an early start from Dijon we were at the villa by five o'clock in the afternoon. "Nowadays we usually fly down to Italy so the long car trips have ended but, as you know, we do have towels in the Fiat runabout because its not always easy to find a nice loo when we are out so we often wet our knickers instead. Also the villa's grounds are extensive and surrounded by farmland so we are completely private. We spend most of our time outside and never really bother to go indoors for a wee...." Amanda stood up suddenly. "Sorry to interrupt the story but I can't wait!" Her legs were pressed together. She paused and tensed for a moment before taking a couple of steps towards the bathroom. Then she peed on the floor. "Oh Val, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!" she gasped, standing immobile whilst the uncontrolled cascade between her legs splashed on to the marble between her shiny high heeled shoes. Once she had regained control she ran to the bathroom, leaving a trail of droplets as she went. I fetched a towel and dropped it over the flood. "Amanda's not the only one who's left it rather late" said Valerie. She hurried over to the French windows, stepped on to the balcony, gathered up her dress and squatted down. There was a hissing sound as a patch of wetness spread across her blue panties and a puddle formed and expanded across the balcony floor a few inches beneath her. She stayed on her haunches holding her dress clear until the flow finally ended. Then she stood up and walked back inside to make sure that Amanda was OK, a second trail of droplets marking her passage. With the bathroom occupied, I walked out on to the balcony, unzipped and pissed into the corner. Jack and Callum followed suit. At the other end of the balcony, away from the light that spilled out from the interior of the flat, Emily was standing quietly looking out across the grey moonlit Thames towards the lights twinkling on the south bank. A splashing sound in the darkness suggested that admiring the view was not the only thing she was doing and that beneath the black chiffon a third pair of panties were getting a thorough soaking. With thanks to Mikey Mike for suggesting this story
  13. Ondinist

    Valerie 18 - Léa

    Thanks everybody! Mikey Mike, I'm also working on your earlier suggestion for a follow-up story.
  14. Ondinist

    Valerie 18 - Léa

    VALERIE 18 - LÉA "I bumped in to an old friend yesterday" said Angela as we were finishing breakfast in the Tuscan villa. "I was telling her about that fashion village Amanda went to the other day and we decided to make a trip there today to do some shopping and to catch up with each other's news." "Hélène has been going through a messy divorce and she was saying that Léa, her teenage daughter, has taken it particularly hard. She had hoped that bringing her to Italy for a touring holiday would help but apparently it isn't going at all well. Hélène says that she knows she is tense because of all the things that are going on in her life at the moment. The other day she snapped at Léa for something that really was not her fault and now they're hardly on speaking terms. "Hélène took up my offer for Léa to spend the day by the pool with you lot rather than trail round the shops with us. For one thing it will help Hélène to be able to talk more freely and for another it will give Léa some time with people closer to her own age - I hope that's OK with everybody." "Of course its OK!" said Valerie. "She'll be very welcome!" We all nodded our agreement. Angela flashed a smile of thanks and went upstairs to get ready, just as Amanda clattered down the stairs and grabbed a coffee. Valerie told her about the day's arrangements whilst Emily and Jack, today's duty cooks, picked up the keys to the battered old Fiat hatchback and left to make the long round trip to the nearest supermarket. A few minutes later a sleek black DS saloon swept up to the front door of the villa and Valerie and Amanda walked out to greet the arrivals. Out of the car stepped the girl who had wet herself at the ruined monastery (Valerie 17) and her fearsome mother. Valerie stepped forward to introduce herself and Amanda and to say that her mother would be down in a few minutes. Léa and Amanda exchanged looks of mutual recognition. Léa blushed deeply and stared awkwardly at the ground. The mother also clearly recognised Amanda. She shook her hand briefly. "Enchanté" she said, in a glacial voice that clearly indicated she was anything but. Angela emerged from the villa, kissed Léa's mother on both cheeks and was introduced to her daughter. "Glad to meet you Léa" said Angela. "I'm sure you will have a nice day with the girls." Léa's mother glanced at Amanda and pursed her lips. They took their seats and the black DS drove off. "Come on Léa" said Valerie cheerfully "Let's see if the others have left us any breakfast." ------------------ I stood up as Valerie and Amanda escorted Léa into the breakfast room. Léa was slim and potentially attractive but at the moment she seemed pale and wan and looked as though she would rather be anywhere else on the planet but here. Valerie made the introductions and Léa gave me a limp handshake. At that moment Callum walked in to the breakfast room. Léa took one look at him and burst into tears. Amanda put her arm round her, led her away into the living room and closed the door behind them. "I wonder what all that was about?" said Valerie as we looked at each other in astonishment. "Um...I think I know" said Callum. "Amanda and I saw that girl with her mother a few days ago. We had gone exploring exploring and we ended up at a ruined monastery near here. There were quite a few other people about, including them. Amanda was bursting for the loo but it turned out that they were closed. "Then therere was one of those sudden intense downpours you sometimes get round here and everybody ran for shelter in a sort of undercroft that was the only part of the building that still had a roof. The girl was telling her mother that she urgently needed to pee but the rain was torrential, there was no roof on most of the building and there weren't any loos anyway. Whilst we were all standing there waiting for the rain to ease off, Amanda wet her knickers and made a puddle on the floor. A few minutes later the girl lost control and peed in her shorts. It was all very public and her mother didn't seem best pleased." The living room door opened and Léa and Amanda came out. Léa's eyes were red-rimmed and she was clutching a paper handkerchief but she seemed a little calmer. She accepted Valerie's offer of a cup of coffee and sat at the table holding it with both hands as though for comfort. "Look, Callum has explained what happened the other day" said Valerie briskly. "Nobody here is laughing at you or thinks any the worse of you. Sometimes accidents can't be avoided - its just one of those things. And, as you saw, my sisters and I often wet ourselves, sometimes by accident, sometimes because its the easiest thing to do. It's no big deal." Léa sat silent for a moment, staring into her coffee cup. Eventually she started to talk. "It wasn't just the accident" she said. "I wet myself quite often and as you say it is not such a big thing, even though it can be a bit embarrassing at the time. But on this occasion my mother reacted as if I had done it on purpose as a provocation. "After the rain finished we had to make the long walk back to the car park. My shoes and socks were wet and we were passing lots of other people who could all see that I had relieved myself in my shorts. My mother offered me no comfort. Then she made a fuss about whether my wet clothes would spoil the car seat. "When we got back to our hotel she did not offer to go inside and get me a skirt or something to put round me, she marched me through the lobby and up in the lift with more people staring at me. When we got to our rooms my mother just said 'clean yourself up!', went in her own room and slammed the door. "I hated her for that. And it is not how she normally is. I know she is upset about her divorce but does she not think that I am upset too, at my own father leaving us? And now my mother and I are not talking to each other. very much" Fresh tears were running down her cheeks andshe started to sob. "This really is all about the divorce, isn't it?" said Valerie gently. "I can only imagine how much you are both hurting at the moment. But these bad times will slowly pass and in the meantime you still have your mother and she still has you and I think that underneath it all you both still love each other very much." Léa nodded slowly, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. Amanda took her by the hand. "Come on Léa, let me show you round the house. We'll start with where the loos are, though...." she giggled "....we don't always bother to come in from outside to use them." They walked into the hallway and up the staircase, Amanda pointing out the various rooms. Valerie let out a long sigh. "Poor Léa!" she said. "She really is going through a rough time! We'll have to try to cheer her up a bit." ------------------ Valerie, now in her navy blue bikini, Callum and I walked down through the grounds of the villa to the swimming pool, carrying supplies of water to keep us refreshed as the daytime heat built up. Shortly afterwards Amanda and Léa joined us. Amanda had changed into her dark red bikini and Léa was wearing a pretty pale-blue bikini with a delicate floral pattern that showed her slim, shapely body and pert little breasts to advantage. Emily and Jack walked down to the pool carrying shopping bags and a pack of charcoal. After Valerie had introduced them to Léa, Jack set about preparing and lighting the brick-built poolside barbecue. Callum and I returned to the house to fetch a fold-up table, some plastic chairs and a pop-up canopy to give us some shade as we ate. "I texted mummy to see if Hélène wanted to join us for dinner this evening and she has replied that that would be a good idea" said Emily as she prepared food for the barbecue and unpacked cold beers and colas. "Is that OK with you Léa?" Léa gave her a grateful smile. "That would be so good - for all sorts of reasons" she replied. "I'm going to have a swim before lunch is ready" announced Valerie. She stretched lazily, stepped on to the grass, parted her legs and peed through her bikini as she swept her hair into a ponytail and tied it with a scrunchie. Léa looked at her wide-eyed. Valerie gave her a mischievous grin and said "The only house rule is that we don't do a wee in the pool. Its a long way back to the loo so we do it here instead. Coming for a dip?" Valerie, Léa and Amanda walked to the pool steps and squealed as they entered the cold water. After they had swum a few length Emily called"lunch in five minutes" so they scrambled out, picking up towels and drying themselves. Amanda paused. A stream of pee splashed on to the pavement between her feet. "Don't mind the boys if you need a wee" Amanda murmured confidentially to Léa. "Just do it in your bikini. They've seen it all before, lots of times. And they wee in their bathers too." Léa nodded, blushing slightly, but did not take up the suggestion. Lunch was the usual long, leisurely affair with plenty of water, cola and beer consumed as we waited for Jack to deliver successive consignments of freshly barbecued steak, sausages and seafood kebabs. Léa had become very quiet and just picked at her food. Towards the end of the meal Léa wet herself. Pee trickled off the edge of her seat and splashed on to the pavement beneath. Quietly, she started to cry again. I nodded to the other boys. "Shall we clear these things away and wash up?" Jack and Callum rose, scooped debris into bin bags and loaded the rest on to trays. Callum explained the back story to Jack whilst we carried the remains of lunch up to the house. We took our time over the washing up and we helped Jack with some initial preparations for this evening's dinner so as to give the girls time to comfort Léa. By the time we returned Valerie and Emily were reclining on sun-loungers and reading but Léa and Amanda were nowhere to be seen. I pulled up a sun-lounger and settled down beside Valerie. There was a large puddle on the paving beneath her sun-lounger and the openweave fabric was still dripping. "It must be a good story!" I commented. She gave me her familiar mischievous grin "I couldn't put it down!" she replied. "Do you know what the problem was with Léa at lunchtime?" "She didn't want to make a point of going back to the house to use the loo when no one else was bothering to do so, nor did she want to do a wee on the grass with you boys around and, well, you saw the result" Valerie told me. "Her self-confidence is absolutely shot, poor girl. Anyway, we've patched her together again and she seems more or less OK at the moment. Amanda has taken her up to the gazebo so that she can talk in privacy if she wants to. It was nearly two hours before Léa and Amanda returned to the poolside. Both of their bikinis had a fresh triangle of wetness between the legs. "Come on, Léa" said Amanda "Let's have a dip in the pool!" She picked up the beachball and jumped in with a huge splash, followed closely by Léa and Valerie. Emily walked over to the grass and stood still, facing away from us. Her coral pink bikini darkened between her legs and the dark patch slowly spread upwards as pee flowed down her legs, over her bare feet and into the grass. Then she walked over to the pool steps, leaving a trail of wet footprints, and descended in to the water. "What's the matter with you boys?" shouted Amanda cheekily from the pool. "Afraid of a bit of water?" The three of us hit the water simultaneously and a riotous game of pool volleyball followed, Léa squealing and giggling with delight. She seemed far happier than she had been all day. After their dip Amanda and Léa stretched out on sun-loungers side by side, each with a chilled can of cola. Amanda asked about Léa's school and they chatted about her baccalauréat studies and her hopes for studying abroad. She in turn was interested to hear from Amanda about English universities and student life. Eventually Amanda announced that she needed a wee. She got up, stretched, walked on to the grass and stood, legs akimbo. With an audible hiss she let go in her bikini. Léa stepped delicately on to the grass beside her. She hesitated, then spread her legs wide, put her hands on her hips in a defiant 'girl wetting her knickers' pose and proceeded to thoroughly soak her bikini briefs. Once again, Amanda gave her a high five. By now the sun was setting so we collected up towels and empty water bottles and set off back to the villa to shower and change before dinner. Emily and Jack were already there, preparing the evening meal. "It looks like you have managed give Léa back her self confidence" I said quietly to Amanda as we walked up the path towards the house. "How did you do it?" "It turned out she was totally in awe of you boys" she replied. "I don't think she has had much experience with the opposite sex yet and three hunky men, or at least..." she gave me a cheeky grin... "two hunky men and you, Tom, were a bit overwhelming. Don't forget that we were all virtual strangers to her when she first arrived and the idea of doing a wee anywhere near you lot was too embarrassing for her." "So I told her the story of the Budgie Smuggler Show (Valerie 3 & 4) and now she isn't in awe of you any more. In fact when I got to the bit about you standing there with stage fright she laughed so hard that she made a little puddle on the gazebo floor." Amanda darted away before I could think of a suitable response. When we reached the house we found that Angela and Hélène had arrived back from their shopping trip. Impulsively, Léa ran to her mother and gave her a big hug, exclaiming "Oh maman,je t'aime beaucoup!" "Je t'aime aussi ma chérie!" her mother replied, hugging her daughter tight and looking as though she might cry with happiness. She did not even notice the wet patch that her daughter's pee-soaked bikini briefs left on her elegant dress. With thanks to Night Rain for the idea
  15. Ondinist

    Valerie 17 - Amanda's desperation

    See Valerie 18 - and thanks for the idea!