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Bear789

New Member
  • Content Count

    28
  • Joined

  • Last visited

1 Follower

About Bear789

  • Rank
    Fidgeting

Personal Information

  • My pronouns are..
    he/him

My Kinks

  • I'm into..
    Bedwetting
    Diapers
    Hyper wetting
    Watersports
    Cuddling
    Face-sitting
    Licking
    Pee drinking
    Tomboys

Recent Profile Visitors

2,722 profile views
  1. Thanks! Thanks! The follow, though, presents a bit of a problem: I do have quite a bit of social media presence, but it's with my real name, and face, and everything else. I'd rather keep my SFW presence isolated from the NSFW, you might imagine I will definitely post interesting stuff I do or write here, though!
  2. Sometimes I write or draw stuff to get some fantasies or thought that start to get a bit too recurrent out of my system. Occasionally I also feel the need to share these with other similar minded people. Well, all this to say that I couldn't help but draw this thingie here this week, and I don't feel it should be confined to my kinky art folder Hope you like it.
  3. I'm glad you liked my story and rember it so fondly! You might be interested to know that there are two other chpaters I posted last year:
  4. I could've happened had I been able to either stay in touch or at least see her again as we grew, and as I finally discovered that there's a sexual component in this for me. Unfortunatly, though, it's too far back in the past, and it didn't feel sexual at all at the time, so my remembering of her is more on the intellectual. trying to rationalize things side, let's say? Wouldn't know a better term.
  5. Bad. I don't like the pretend variety, it's even worse when it's genuine. I like stuff (and this applies to any sexual stuff, to be honest) when girls are enjoying themsleves, and are naughty on purpose.
  6. Thank you everybody, interesting answers! It seems that porn is a popular starting point. What made you click on a link about pee? In my case it was kinda hidden what was about. I was just looking for female masturbation videos. It was titled something like "very wet orgasm", at the time I had no idea that there was more than one sexual wetness, let's say Oh, yes, that's the thing I enjoy the most. I'm not really interested in desperation, and the humiliation aspect, if if it's just staged, turns me off. I like naughty, confident girls making a deliberate mess. This is an interesting answer. So I guess it wasn't sexual at all at the start. When did it connect to sexuality? As someone said, she was 12. And so was I. I think she might have inconsciously planted something in my head, but I never thought at her in a sexual way.
  7. I'm curious about origin stories What got you into this fetish? What happened the first time you tried it? Did your first time coincide with the moment you discovered that pee had sexual connotations for you? In my case I'm kinda struggling with finding an answer. On one hand, there has been a precise beginning I remember: I was a teenager browsing the internet for... documentation to tackle the hormonal surge I was having that day, so to speak, and I happened to stumble on a video of a girl masturbating and peeing. That one got me and I came back to it a couple of times in the next few days, thinking that it was the powerful orgasm she had and the overall "realism/believability" of the scene that got my attention, but in the end I had to admit that the peeing had it's part, so I started to look for pee content specifically, and here I am. I've done very little on my own and never with a partner, I prefer to be a spectator for some reason. On the other hand, I find that answer somewhat unsatisfactory and tried to go a bit deeper, and I think that brings me to another point in my life, somewhat earlier. I've always been bladder shy, hated public toilets and urinals, never managed to go out in the woods or together with friends when we were kids and playing together, or hiking with my family. When I was about 12, during the summer holidays, I became friend with a really rude and tomboyish girl about my age who was spending her vacation in the same village, next door to our family. Since we lived so close in, let's face it, a place full of old farts, we ended up spending a lot of time together, even when the other kids were not around and... well, she wasn't bladder shy at all. She used to pee with the bathroom door open if her relatives were not around scolding her. She peed in the fields or in the woods when we were taking a stroll or walking home after having played outside with the other kids. And she did not break engagement/conversation when she needed to go, she just kept talking while peeing as if it was the normal thing to do, and expected the same from you and she got mad if you dared to interrupt the chat or break eyesight. Not only she didn't care one bit if I was watching her, she occasionally used me as a privacy wall of sort when going outside and had me stand guard for or potential passerbys. It wasn't sexual (at least for me, I actually considered her literally crazy), although it felt naughty to see a girl's privates exposed like that. If she had ulterior motives, she never made it evident. I still think that she is the key to my fetish, though, because pee or not, I'm still attracted by her kind of woman.
  8. Hi everybody! I'm posting about a project of mine I'd like to put back on track, I hope it's a valid topic for this section of the forums. I've been working with another member of this community, Charlie Kirby, on an erotic videogame project with a significant lesbian & pee fetish component (you might say that the pee fetish is the main course of the whole thing, as there are many other games who touch other topics. More stuff may be added later, but I want to start from there). Unfortunatly Charlie stopped contribuiting at the beginning of 2018, and the whole project stopped. I tried to put it back on track several times, but I probably chose the wrong approach, so now I'm trying this one and see where it goes The jist of the project is this: it's a text based life-sim/choose-your-own-adventure type of game that follows the adventures of a girl (for the time being; there's a vague idea of adding the option to choose a male protagonist, but that would require to basically double all the content, which is not a sane thing to do right now) who comes from a small town and a very strict family, moves to another town for university and takes advantage of the newfound freedom to explore her fetish and her sexuality. The main gameplay theme is progression (from small small experiments to more complex stuff, but also in other aspects: improve your apartment, your student career, social life, etc) and player choices (in the sense that all content should be somewhat optional, it's up to the player to create their own path through the game, and they should be able to skip any content - especially on the sexy side - they don't find appealing); the main narrative theme is personal enjoyment, self experimentation and fun. I don't want to add any humiliation, ageplay, forced sex, other stuff of that category; this is a really important point: it's a turn off for me, plus I feel that there are already too many games with that kind of material. Also no scat. I'd like a good chunk of the game being focussed on deliberate actions rather than accidents. I'd like the game to stay grounded in reality as much as possible; no magic, no contrived unrealistic situations, only acceptable, gamey, breaks from reality. I do NOT need the contributor's actual personal stories, pictures or anything from real life. I'm not trying to scam free porn off of anyone. There's plenty out there, I don't need to scam people for that. We need material about the characters in the game, not us There's no hurry here, I fully understand that it's quite a long commitment, but also I'm aware that anything comes before hobbies, therefore there are no deadlines whatsoever; with Charlie things worked like this: we had an on-line shared document we could both edit. She would log in whenever she had time and was in the right mood (could be once a week, once a month, whatever; as long as there's communication everything goes) to work on stuff and comment on my edits (sometimes she wrote pages, sometimes just a couple of notes; again, it doesn't matter); I did the same on my own time. In two years, we happened to interact in real times only twice (just to reinforce that I'm not trying to scam people). That document is basically dead, as Charlie was the admin, but I recently recreated it on DropBox papers, waiting for new contributors In terms of end goals, I consider this a hobby project for the time being, however if I manage to put it back on track and produce something with enough content to be playable anytime in the future (before we reach retirement age, that is :P), I'm considering to open for donations and Patreon or something like that, and at that point I'll obviously share any revenue the game will ever make. I'm not looking for a massive team. Just one or two people to start with, as I feel larger teams lead to more troubles than good for this kind of hobby projects, especially in terms of coordination. Ideal traits for collaborators: - Native English speaker: I'm not one, I need someone who can write well and proofread what goes in the game. - At least one woman: as I said, I want this to be a somewhat realistic simulation of the pee fetish from a female's perspective (or at least, as realistic as a game allows without becoming a chore), so I'd like someone who can keep the thing grounded and prevent it to go down the wishful fantasy/horny fanfiction route. - Active ractitioner of the fetish: for the same reason as the previous one. - Can write/brainstorm ideas more or less autonomously after the initial exchanges: as I found out, if we have to wait for all of us to be available online at the same time before anything happens, the project will remain stuck at it's current stage forever. The current target is Unity, so if you happen to know a bit of C#, that's a bonus. I'm covering the art and coding departments (more the art than the coding, as I'm a professional comic book artist but only a self.taught amateur coder) Does anyone find this interesting? PM me! I'm also open to discuss it in this topic and explain it more, so if you're just curious but not really sure you'd like to commit, feel free to post and ask whatever you'd like.
  9. Hi everybody! One and a half, possibly two years ago, I posted a series of three short stories that were quite well received. I also said that I originally intended to write more, but I had ran out of inspiration. Well, inspiration came back this summer and I wrote two more chapters (the second being almost a chapter and a half, given it's length and the fact that it contains two episodes), plus I pulled a George Lucas and went back to fix things that probably didn't need to be fixed in the original three tales (a move that no doubt will prompt fans to yell for years that they know that "Sam pissed first" and everything else is a lie), so I thought I'd repost the whole thing here. They'll come out as quickly as the forum lets me post. I hope you'll enjoy them. As the last time, I'll appriciate comments and grammar nazis, as English is not my first language. I'm somewhat certain that this time I'm done with this series, as I fear more tales will get repetitive; also the intention was to keep it grounded in reality, and I feel that the last tale is a bit exagerated (but I like it the way it is). Never say never, though. We'll see. Brace yourself, it's LONG. 1 I met Samantha (Sam for friends) in high school. You wouldn't call her a beauty: short, the face a tad too thin and long, the jaw and chin a bit too angular, skinny to a fault (despite seemingly having a black hole installed inside her stomach, if you had to guess by how much she eats) and basically flat chested. Her surly attitude and a seriously bad case of Bitchy Resting Face Syndrome didn't help making her popular, but it's one of those cases when actually there's plenty of sweetness and charm under the thick rough crust created by her extreme shyness. I was attending an art school; five years in total, at the end of the second year you had to choose a specialization path for the remaining three, which meant that at that point you basically ended up in an entirely new class, with new people. The first day of our third year I sat next to her because she was a somewhat familiar face. She was in another class during the previous two years so I never actually interacted with her, but I saw her walking down the school's corridors and I knew about her reputation, so, being quite shy myself, I appreciated the idea of being paired with the quiet loner one for the first few days in the new class while I tried to gauge the new classmates at my own pace. After a few days of mostly silence, during a lunch break, she started off by introducing herself as "the coarsest girl ever". I looked at her, neatly dressed, properly seated, a reasonable level of table manners, and couldn't help but laugh and point at another girl on the opposite side of the room, spreading all over her chair, chewing loudly with her mouth open at the epicentre of a small but violent dust storm of bread crumbs. Sam frowned and answered "You don't know me yet." It turns out that her definition of "coarse" is cursing like a sailor and having a special brand of dry, inappropriate, cynic and deadpan sense of humour; when she saw that I'm not turned away by the first (I can't care less, in fact) and that I'm actually quite fond of the latter, she started to mellow. It took almost a year to crack the outer shell and make her feel at ease with me, but when it happened, she became one of my best friends, and we're still in touch to this day. Once you pierce through her armour, she goes from fully restrained and secretive to fully unrestrained and open basically overnight. It's as if she has all this boiling steam inside and when you poke a hole through the containment, it vents out on you all in one blow. At that point we talked and joked about almost everything; her sense of humour included a talent for finding innuendos and double entendres, which lead to somewhat open talks about sexual topics, which in the end lead our friendship to occasionally cross into the field of friends with benefits. It's worth telling the story of the first time we had sex even though it has nothing to do with pee, because it shines some light on our relationship and Sam's true personality. We were in Paris for a school trip, visiting art museums; in my class there were twenty students, eighteen girls and only two boys. This required careful planning on the professors' part. There were six rooms booked for the students: four large ones, with four beds, and two smaller, two beds rooms. Us boys got one of the small ones, Sam and another girl got the other one, all the other girls were put in the four beds ones. Ironically, I wasn't the one the professors were keeping an eye on: my fellow male classmate had a girlfriend and they took care to keep them separated and put her in one of the large rooms where they thought mischief was less likely to happen. We were also dragged around the city on a tight schedule for the whole day for several days in a row, probably endeavouring to physically tire us in a further attempt to prevent "inappropriate behaviours". Of course it was all for nothing, as, a couple of days in, some switcheroo happened at night: I was booted out of my room, the girlfriend took my place, Sam's room-mate went in the large four bed room left by the girlfriend because the other three girls didn't want me, so I ended up with Sam in the other small room. It may seem a theme in our relationship, but I honestly had no naughty plans, nor with Sam, nor with any of the other girls involved; it just happened. Even more ironically, it all started with a slightly insulting joke on Sam's lack of curves. As soon as I settled in, we of course started talking and joking about what was probably going on in the other room. "We're going to behave in this room, however", I said at one point. "Besides, if you take off that pyjama jacket I'll have a hard time distinguishing the chest from the shoulder blades." Don't think it was mean, jokes like this were a common occurrence between us, and she was more than capable of answering back, which was what I was expecting. She didn't fight back, though. Instead, she said "That's unfair because I can't yell back at you as it'll cause troubles. I'm not mad though, I know you speak out of ignorance, so I'll have to school you." She pulled her jacket up, revealing her naked tiny boobs, and pointed at her nipples. "See these darker thingies? They mark the front side. Downstairs there are other clues as well." Being a diligent pupil, I had to study said clues in depth, and that was the beginning of our on and off sexual relationship; nothing too serious nor too continuative, we talked about it WAY more than we did anything (at least together). It turns out that despite our frankness about sex and our occasional indulgence in it, there was one thing we both hid from each other: our pee fetish. This is the story of how I discovered it, and possibly it opens the way for the stories of the subsequent escapades this discovery led to. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ A few years after high school ended, we were having a New Year's Eve party at a friend's vacation house in the Alps. It was a thin and tall town house in a small village, with four floors: there was the entrance floor at street level, with the kitchen and a living room; above it, two other floors with a couple of small rooms each and a bathroom. Finally, a large basement room, which, since the house was built on a slope, was partially underground on the road side but had a balcony that opened on the valley on the opposite side. We had the party in the large basement. At about two in the morning, we were all drunk enough that things went tranquil and that the crowd split in smaller groups which moved upstairs to other rooms in the house for quieter chats; me and Sam ended up in a small room with a sofa on the top floor, where she was planning to sleep. I'll make it clear that we were not wasted, merely tipsy enough to be more inclined than usual to joke, laugh and be silly, and probably overstep some inhibitions. And therefore we joked, laughed and behaved silly. At some point she said, "Stop acting like an idiot, if I keep laughing like this I'll pee myself!” I promptly ignored her, and after a while, matter-of-factly, she added "There, now you did it. Happy?" and laughed a bit more. Thinking she was joking, I told her to go eff herself. She didn't bother to argue, she just lifted her skirt to show that indeed there was a small wet patch on her green panties. It was the first time I ever saw actual peed garments in person, so I probably stared at them longer than I should have. Anyway, she pulled her skirt back down, got up and said "I'd better go to the bathroom before you make me make a mess. I'll have to sleep in here, you know." I was thinking at that wet patch, happy that I was lucky enough to have a female friend who was in the habit of pulling up her clothes and expose her private parts to prove her point, when Sam came back, locked the door, sat on her ankle in front of me and asked, straight to the point: "Do you like peed panties?" I don't know why, I didn't want to confess her this fetish, so I just said "Don't be silly." "You were staring at them a few minutes ago." "Well, of course, I tend to watch when a girl pulls up her skirt in front of me, you know. Also, the fabric was sticky enough that I could almost see your pussy through it." "Nonsense, you've seen my pussy before, and with nothing in the way obstructing the view to boot." You could argue that no matter how many times you've had sex with someone, you'll always find her private parts arousing, but alcohol is not conducive to logic debates, and besides I had the impression that she was trying to go somewhere with that topic. Indeed, since I wasn't answering, she went on, "I enjoy them." "Wet panties?" "No, biscuits. Of course it's pissed panties, that's what we're talking about! You know, sometimes when my flatmate is not at home and I don't have to go out, I just pee in my pants whenever I need. If I feel really frisky I may keep them on for the rest of the day and pee through them again later a couple more times. It depends." She shrugged and smirked. At this point, despite my best effort, I felt my penis standing to attention, and she noticed it despite my attempts to change position to hide it (or possibly because of that). She put a hand on my crotch, where I was somewhat literally pitching a tent with the fabric of my trousers, and said "Gotcha! I knew it!", then she leaned on me and whispered in my ear "You know, I actually just did it in the bathroom". "What?" I'm actually not that dumb, I was just trying yet again to keep up the appearances for some stupid reason. "Ate a biscuit", she answered, and smirked again. She leaned back, raised her skirt once more and showed me a much wider and wetter patch on her panties, starting from her crotch and shooting up between her butt cheeks. There was no "almost" there, I could clearly see the fabric, now semitransparent, clenching to everything, her pussy lips, her dark bush, her buttocks. And there was no "almost" in terms of my erection as well, no sense in faking anything now. I was speechless because up to that point pee had always been nothing more than a naughty fantasy for me; I watched videos and read several sexy stories on the topic, but never acted on it nor felt the need to bring it in a sexual relationship. I did not know how to react, whether to go all in or back away and keep it a mere fantasy, but in the end I did not have to take any decision, as Sam was already unzipping and pulling down my pants, so I let her take control of the operations. She sat on my right thigh and while I was registering the feeling of warm peed panties (and her pussy through them) pressed against the naked skin of my leg, she started humping my thigh and jerking me with the right hand. Then, when humping stopped being enough, she slipped the left hand inside her panties, all while I was just there, like an idiot, not contributing to anything. Anyway she seemed quite capable and content to do all by herself and we both reached a powerful orgasm. After we regained our breath, Sam took off her panties, still damp and still warm, used them to clean up my sperm and wipe herself, and threw everything in a small plastic bag she picked from the travelling bag she had with her for this short vacation. She cheekily licked one damp finger winking at me, then curled up against me on the small sofa, where we cuddled a bit before falling asleep. The next morning we were quite aware of what happened, but she downplayed it as "another one of our escapades" and a weak attempt to discuss the pee fetish was met with "we will, but not now." Anyway I didn't feel nor I had the impression she was feeling any kind of regret, and in fact the first day of the new year went on business as usual (and indeed some months later I had the confirmation that not only nothing bad happened that night, it was actually the start of something better that I'll tell you next time). Bonus fact, Sam had no spare panties, so she went around commando-style for the rest of the next day until we went back home. Thankfully her skirt was thick and long enough to hide it. I obliquely teased her a bit about it, but with her usual style she answered "If you dare let anybody know, I'll kick your balls till they come out of your ears." 2 It took a while, after that New Year's Eve party, before the topic resurfaced. Sam and I had our usual quasi-daily chats while working (we are both freelance graphic designers/visual artists, which means that our computers are turned on basically the whole day, that we spend a lot of time in front of them, and that nobody is going to bother us if we take small breaks to type things in the Facebook chat or on Skype from time to time), but it was business as usual: asking suggestions, comparing works, making snarky comments on something idiotic the client of the moment asked or said, a bit of news/mood-of-the-day; stuff like that. Pee entered our conversation once when we were videochatting on Skype on a Friday evening (yeah, lame, I know), with vague discussions on when it started, what we like, where the boundaries are, etc. Don’t get your fantasy geared up, it was an almost clinical discussion; what I gathered was that Sam was already experimenting with this fetish for quite some time when we first met in high school, that it had been a domestic and private affair she didn't feel the need to share with anybody else until recently, that she loved the feeling of wetness and heat on her skin and occasionally liked the taste and that she valued the naughtiness factor of “doing the ‘wrong’ thing” over everything else; also, that the boundaries were hormones-dependant: in the heat of the moment she could be naughty and careless, but when the arousal settled down, she wanted her and her stuff to be fresh and clean as quickly as possible. She also added that her pee fetish seemed to have some sort of slow cycle, swinging over the course of months between mild obsession to almost total lack of interest irregardless of the sexual drive of the moment. On my side, I told her that I discovered it through internet surfing, that I like to watch but never had nor felt the need to have any direct experience prior to our night at the party, so I didn't really know where my boundaries were, but I love nonchalance and confidence over anything else and that I don't care and sometimes I'm even turned off by pain and desperation, feeling or even only pretending to feel shame, humiliation, regret, and such; also, as stupid as it may sound for someone with this fetish, I’m a bit germophobe, so I too am not too fond of feeling dirty/smelly. She said, "If you like to watch, I'll give you something to look at sooner or later", winked and that was it for the topic that evening, and for the immediate future. What a tease! Soon after that day, every freelancer’s favourite time started: the deadline traffic jam season. Scientists should investigate it. I’m ready to testify that clients are a special race of human beings who periodically go in hibernation, then wake up all at the same time in specific months and call you one after the other with jobs that must be completed at all costs for the day before yesterday. Two peculiarities of the lingo of this weird race is that “for the day before yesterday” is meant to be taken literally, while “at all costs” is just an idiom that doesn’t actually refer to any kind of pecuniary aspect; don’t let common sense, a dictionary or the laws of physics fool you. My deadline crunch time was acceptable, but Sam’s seemed really bad. I could see her getting progressively more and more frantic on our Skype chat until, about three weeks later, I got a mid-afternoon Skype videocall. As I accepted it I was greeted by an extreme close-up of Sam's teeth, a fraction of a second before having my ears blown off by the scream “DONE!” She was shouting straight into the webcam’s microphone “The end! Finished! Completed! Archived! Sent! Job done! Case closed! Other-synonyms-I-can’t-come-up-with-now! I. Am. FREE!” I meekly peeled my eardrums off the wall behind me while she added “Half a day in advance as well. I am indeed the best”, then she put the webcam down and adjusted the angle to give me a complete framing of the scene as she ostentatiously put her feet on the desk with her legs crossed and leaned back on her chair with one hand behind her head; she was trying hard to give her best ‘cartoonishly arrogant boss’ impression. She reach out of the frame to pick up a bottle and took a good sip of water acting as if it was some kind of rare and expensive wine. “Brilliant”, I replied, stone-faced. “You know what happens when you deliver earlier than expected? Enjoy tighter deadlines next time.” “You’re only jealous because you can’t yet sprawl on your chair like this.” Another sip of her pretend precious wile, this time with her pinky pointing up. Deliberately boorish, you had to admire it. “I still have a couple of things to do, but I’m in no hurry. What are you going to do now, with your reacquired freedom?” “The same thing I do every time a complete a tight deadline, Pinky. Masturbate furiously”, with her usual sarcastic smirk. “Thank goodness you started a videochat, then.” “It was a joke, you literal wanker. Plus, YOU still have work to do. Focus. I know I’m irresistible, but don’t let me distract you.” We chat idly for a while as I went on working; standard bantering, occasional teasing, our usual stuff. She was lazily browsing the web while we talked, I guess; I could occasionally hear Facebook notification sounds, or a muffled Youtube video. She casually took a couple more sips here and there. I didn’t really pay that much attention to the chat window, I was mostly focussed on Photoshop and the job. It took a while, but finally my brain registered that Sam’s answers had become monosyllabic and the sounds in the background had changed. A faint static noise with occasional hissing, squishy sounds and some short panting. I moved my eyes from the monitor with Photoshop to the one with the chat window and saw that her expression had changed too. She was very intently watching in what I presumed was the direction where her computer screen was. “Sam?” “Mmmmm?” “Sam, what are you doing?” I asked with that kind of ‘I’m-not-angry-I’m-just-disappointed’ tone you’d use when talking to an unruly kid. “I’ve... got distracted.” “Sam, are you seriously watching porn?” Same tone. “Ehm...” “While we’re chatting?” “It’s not my fault.” “Of course not. This time you were really convinced that Pornhub had finally started broadcasting MyMiniPony cartoons and you just wanted to check it out.” “It just… happened. You browse Reddit… you absent-mindedly include some ‘special’ subreddits, just out of habit… you follow a couple of posted links… you land on something interesting… feel a nice bladder pressure... a couple of weeks of built-up steam that lowers your common sense… Linda won’t be home until after dinner...” (Linda is her flatmate, in case you’re wondering). Another couple of moaning from the video lead to a couple of moaning from Sam, who in the meantime had changed her pose slightly, her ankles still crossed but her thighs open, and caressing her crotch with the tip of her right hand. “On second thought, I might actually revise my previously stated opinion and distract you too.” She panted. I was about to be sarcastic but I decided to just shut up. On one hand, Sam was wearing thick white socks, grey sweatpants and a loose dark blue hoodie, the least sexy outfit you could think of (and you can just imagine how baggy it looked on someone as skinny as her); on the other hand I genuinely find there’s something magic about a girl truly enjoying herself irregardless of (almost) every other aspect of the thing. Also, wise men from ancient times teach that there’s a time when snark leads to fun, and a time when snark only earns you a well deserved insult and prematurely ends a potentially sexy videochat; this moment felt like one of the latter kind. Sam started biting her lower lip and grabbed one boob through the hoodie with the free hand. She opened her mouth and ran her thumb on her lips and slipped down a bit more on the chair. Once again biting her lower lip and caressing her chest with one hand, she slipped the other one inside her pants; her eyes nailed on the screen and her mouth opened, shaped like an O, as if she was looking at the most unbelievably erotic scene ever. She closed her eyes, bit her lip once more and the hand inside her pants started moving more deliberately. She gave another glance at the screen, then suddenly she put her feet on the ground, sitting near the edge of her chair with her legs wide open, her back arched and her left arm straight behind her to steady herself. With a deeper sigh she stopped caressing her pussy, peeled her eyes off the monitor to look down at her crotch as a dark patch appeared and quickly spread on the fabric, soon followed by a pool forming between her legs and a cascade of pee rolling off the edge of the chair and rumbling as it hit the floor. She started rubbing her pussy again while she was still peeing, the flow increasing and decreasing in intensity in sync with the movement of her hand. Her sighing became louder, and as the flood ended she gave a couple of stronger, faster strokes before peeling her hand out of the pants. The fingers were so wet they were shiny. She watched down ecstatically at her wet crotch, caressing the borders of the patch with both hands before collapsing back on the chair. She dragged her left hand up her torso to her mouth and started sucking one finger while the right hand went straight back inside her pants, moving quickly and deliberately. Her eyes closed, her moaning and panting raised until a final, deep and slow breath signalled that she reached her orgasm. She opened her eyes and looked down at her crotch with a dreamy expression, then gave a quick glance at the monitor where she probably saw that I wasn’t wasting the show she was giving me, and smiled, peeled her hand out of her pants only to move it on the wet patch, using her middle finger to lazily caress her pussy through the fabric a bit more until I came as well. Sam adjuster her position and curled her legs on the chair, I don’t know if oblivious or deliberately seeking for the pee puddle on it, and we sat there for a short time doing a bit of small talk that was meant to be telematic cuddling but soon switched to a more playful sexual bantering. “You really got it bad, don’t you?” I said at one point. “I’ll admit I’m going through the mildly obsessive phase, plus there’s this idea of bringing someone else in all this that came out of nowhere and doesn’t seem to want to go away for the time being, and it demands attention while it’s here.” “I’m not complaining.” ”Thank goodness I know this really nice guy who is being a good test subject.” Wink. “Now this is getting cold and sticky and unpleasant, I’d better clean up and shower before Linda comes home.” She blew me a kiss and closed the call. I tried my best to concentrate back on the job I had to finish, but it wasn’t easy, I tell you. 3 When I finally finished my jobs, towards the end of the month, I invited Sam at my place for lunch. I once again swear I did not plan for anything naughty on that specific day (although I definitely wanted to explore the options for the near future), I just wanted to spend some quality time with a dear friend without her flatmate in the way: they're not really friends, so Sam is always a bit restrained when she's around. This time I wanted the full Funny Coarse Sam Experience, and I wanted it live, so we chose my apartment, where I live alone, to let her feel fully at ease to unleash her personality. Besides, I enjoy cooking and I'm quite good at it, I wasn't in the mood for restaurants or takeaway food, and if you'll ever see Sam approaching a stove, run for your life and be prepared to hire a professional cleaning crew for the aftermath. Or torch the whole building in the worst case scenario. She arrived in the late morning, wearing a jumper, shirt, jeans, flat shoes, and dragging her usual huge handbag (which I always suspected being a luggage trying - and failing miserably - to cosplay as a handbag). We had a nice and fun and chatty morning as I was preparing our lunch (Sam was in a really good mod and her wit was in an extraordinary shape), had a pleasant time during the meal, then Sam offered to wash the dishes and that's when things took an unexpected yet enjoyable turn. While she was rinsing the dishes, she suddenly said, "This cold water is a stab at my poor bladder!" I quickly turn towards her and saw a dark, shiny patch expanding between her legs; I dragged my eyes up, saw her cheeky smirk and decided to play along. I started to move towards her, but she stopped me with "Don't be greedy. Also, I have to finish the chores first", which she did. The patch stopped expanding, she must've leaked just enough to wet the jeans, but I couldn't peel my eyes off it while Sam moved around the kitchen to finish cleaning stuff, went out on the balcony to put the garbage in the bins as if wearing pants decorated by a noticeable pee patch was the most natural thing ever. I was thinking that she didn't go to the bathroom since she arrived at my place and trying to calculate how much water she drank during lunch, in order to figure out what to expect from the near future. When she finished tidying up, she went back on the rug in front of the sink, stood there with her weight on her right leg and the left leg relaxed, her right hand hanging with the thumb from the jeans' pocket, and opened the floodgates. I watched the patch becoming shiny again, expand and start running down her leg; this time she didn't stop me when I went closer. I put my hands on her hips and whispered in her er not to waste it all here. She looked at me, grinned and stopped peeing. She threw her jumper and shirt on the table; I already knew that bras were rare entries in Sam’s outfits, but it’s always nice to see that fact confirmed. I picked up the wet rug, she took off her jeans and panties and used them to haphazardly wipe any spillage on the floor, then we moved towards the bathroom with our load of pee wet clothes and rugs. Despite the horniness, I couldn't help but laugh at the image of Sam walking down my hallway entirely naked but still wearing socks and shoes. Thank God she's good sport and that didn't spoil the mood. In the bathroom, she finished undressing ("There, shoes off. Happy?"), I did the same, we threw the wet clothes in the washing machine and stepped into my rectangular shower. I hugged her from behind, moved her hair on one side and bent a bit to start kissing her neck (her head barely reaches my shoulders if I'm standing straight). She licked my fingers, then I started to tease one of her puffy nipples with one hand, gently circling around the border of the areola, and let the other hand caress her body and slip down to her crotch, where I playfully ruffled her bush before starting to tease the inside of her thighs and lastly moving to her clit. When I finally put my finger inside her, I whispered in her ear, "Now you can let go whatever's left." A couple of drips. Then a violent spurt that splashed on my palm and stopped immediately. What surprised me the most was the heat. I mean, I felt heat back at the night of the party when she was rubbing her crotch against my thigh, but I didn't know how much of it was the pee's and how much was just body heat. I could see she was uncharacteristically tense and was having a bit of trouble relaxing and letting it all go. Moving my hand from the nipple to the middle of the chest, I could feel her heart beating fast. I gently kissed her on the cheek and on the neck again, she smiled. I moved the hand from the chest to her stomach and started caressing it gently. It took a couple of false starts, but finally the stream started and didn't stop, splashing on the palm of the hand I still had firmly on her crotch, and then all around as I was moving my fingers to masturbate her. I moved the dry hand back to her tiny breasts and started again to kiss her neck as I kept fingering her. When the stream ended (and she indeed had surprisingly capacious tanks) I cupped my fingers to save a bit of pee and swapped hands: the one that was playing with her boobs moved downstairs to keep stimulating her, while the one with the small puddle of pee moved up, spreading the juice over her belly and her chest. Sam took control for a bit, grabbed my hand and licked my wet fingers, then when she finally came I used my free arm to hug her and steady her while the orgasm made her legs feel a bit wobbly. I kissed her cheek and she smiled again, leaning her head against me. We then sat cross legged on the wet floor of the shower (or better, I sat cross legged and she sat on top of me; my shower may be a bit larger than normal, but it's not exactly a castle) where, after regaining her breath, she took my hard penis in her hands. "Care to reciprocate?" "Sorry! I peed right before lunch. I could try to push hard..." "Don't. If you fart I'll start laughing and you'll spoil the moment. Remember that you owe me one next time, for now you earned you treat anyway." Indeed she took good care of me despite the cramped situation we were in, then we hugged again. We kissed, and that was the moment when I realized that our on and off physical relationship was about to step up and going to be permanently on from this point onwards. Bonus prosaic fact: we took a shower together afterwards and when we stepped out of the shower I mused whether or not this was going to be a much sexier reprise of the commando-style day at the party, while her clothes washed and dried. Unfortunately she showed me that the cosplaying luggage handbag was storing a spare change of pants, socks, panties and shirt, which was somewhat unlucky for me, but confirmed that Sam definitely had stuff planned for that afternoon. 4 After the last few escapades it was clear that we were involved into something more than our usual friend with benefits situation; in short Sam and I started to date. Nothing exceptional to report there. We spent quality time together and we had our intimate moments, most of them of the standard drier variety. Some time later, during spring, we had a date whose aftermath was particularly remarkable for our tales. It started very nicely on a Friday night with sushi, a walk in the nice evening weather, then we went back to my place and, one thing leads to another, we had good old conventional sex, no pee involved; Sam spent the night at my place afterwards. The next morning I woke up and Sam was snoring soundly on her side of the bed. She’s a champion sleeper, I bet even bombs can’t wake her up. I was there laying on one side, watching Sam's silhouette outlined by the morning light coming through the window, my face stuck with the dumbest happiness smile ever. I felt a bit frisky and entertained the thought of waking her up with kisses, but then decided against it and sneaked out of the bed as quietly as I could in order to not wake her up, then went to the bathroom for my morning routine. Now, I need to digress a bit and describe my bathroom to make you better understand what happened next. To begin with, my apartment is quite old. The bathroom door is a bit wonky, it grinds against something as you close it all the way and makes a horrible loud noise. I tried to lubricate the hinges, with little to no results. Not a big deal during the day, but it was early in the morning and Sam was still sleeping, so I just left the door ajar to avoid the racket. The bathroom is small and rectangular. The door is on one of the short walls, near the north-east corner. In front of the door, along the eastern long wall, there’s the sink, then the toilet bowl. Above the toilet on the other short wall, close to the south-east corner there’s the window; next to it, on the south-west corner and extending along part of the western long wall, there’s the shower. It’s rectangular as well as I mentioned before, and the box has sliding doors that open on the corner. I brushed my teeth at the sink and then I stepped towards the toilet for my morning pee when the slight arousal from before gave me a naughty thought. I was having a bit of morning wood. I discarded the plan to pee in the toilet and upgraded it to peeing in the shower while I was washing myself. Then I eyeballed the shower and upgraded it again to standing outside the shower and pee inside it on the shower tray, without any water running, before stepping in for the shower. You might thing it’s pretty mild, but at this point I still didn’t do much with my fetish beyond enjoying whichever sexy mischief Sam came up with. Personal experimentation in the field was and still is not my forte, but once in a while I get bitten by some weird fetishist bug. Anyway, it was decided. I stepped towards the corner of shower, kicked away the rug to avoid potential mess, opened the doors, pulled my pyjama pants and underwear down to the knees, stood there with my legs as wide as the pants allowed, and started to pee on the tray. Fetish aside, it’s nice to be able to go freeform when you have a semi. I experimentally arched my stream around as yellow puddles were forming on the plate; you could already get a hint of the smell. The corner of my eye caught some unexpected movement behind me. I yelped and turned quickly to my right. The startle closed my tap, but with the sudden move I still managed to involuntarily spray some pee on the floor outside the shower. “Nice boner. I’m happy to see you too.” said a familiar sarcastic voice. The moving shadow was of course Sam. Due to my position, giving the back to the ajar bathroom door, with the light coming from the window in front of me, she could come right up to me before I could register anything. “Sam, you startled me!” “Yeah, very manly scream you did there.” “I thought you were sleeping.” “I woke up to the sound of the Niagara Falls”, she sniffed a bit, “and apparently an aroma that is not coffee.” She flaunted her signature Cheshire Cat grin. “Better than coffee, actually. I would’ve been upset if it was hot coffee that stuff you spilled on me.” I looked down and saw that I didn’t only spray the floor. A bit of pee managed to reach one of Sam’s feet as well. “Oh, sorry!” “Yeah, you should be ashamed of yourself. Next time aim better, please. Don’t waste it on the floor.” She came closer, reached on the shower tray with the foot and played a bit with her toes inside the puddle with a “hmmm” before letting the foot rest on the tray’s edge. “Are you done yet? I hope not, I too want to play ‘the little fireman’.” she said, grabbing my penis. This made wonders for my erection, but erections are not ideal for pee. I resumed my position, but I only managed to squeeze out a few unsatisfactory spurts. “Sorry, I might need a bit of encouragement.” “I’ll give you a good one.” she said, and pressed against my side. I imagined she’d masturbate me or something, but I was wrong. Oh, boy, VERY wrong. I was still standing with the legs wide. Her crotch was resting against my thigh. After a short pant from her, I felt a hiss and sudden warmth. She was peeing on my leg in full force. Her pyjama’s shorts barely absorbed the liquid, which was flowing freely out of the loose legs and on my thigh. “Oh, by the way, this is how you properly wet someone’s feet.” she added cheekily. If I were less horny I would’ve had second thoughts about the mess she was making on the unprotected floor, but I was more aroused that I’ve ever been: the warmth, the wetness, the feel, the smell, the thumping sound, her stare, her hand gently squeezing my penis... against all odds, this seemed to loosen something up for me, as I too managed to start peeing again. As Sam’s pee was thundering on the floor, my stream arched inside the shower under Sam’s control until my bladder emptied. As my stream died out, Sam pointed my penis upwards, so that the final trick rolled down the shaft and on Sam’s hand. In the end our leaks combined resulted in a proper mess. Our legs and our pants were drenched, there was a sizeable warm puddle around our feet and on the shower plate, and the “aroma” had got a lot stronger, but surprisingly for me, not unpleasant. I turned my head towards Sam. She was still grinning wildly, and she was starting to stroke my penis. I had other plans. I put my hand on her waist and accompanied her in front of me, then slid the hand inside her panties as I leaned to kiss her. My hand registered warmth and wetness from both her pussy and the clothes. She raised on tiptoe to kiss me back and put her pee dripping hand on the back of my head. I was so engulfed by my feelings for her that I didn’t object. I worked my ways to her neck with my kisses, starting with a gentle lop on her earlobe. She leaned against the shower box. I moved down to the hollow of her neck while I was raising her shirt, then went straight for her left nipple, teasing it with my tongue while I was using my hand to play with the other boob. She arched her back slightly and moaned. I trailed the tongue around the areola and gave a final playful squeeze to her nipple before I kneeled and started to kiss her belly button. I made my way further down while I removed her pants and panties, then gave her tummy a final kiss at the edge of her bush, before stopping to stare at the landscape. I was mesmerized by the way the light shone on the inside of her thighs. She was panting and looking at me. We both hesitated a bit. I had already given her plenty of oral sex in standard conditions, but never after a pee. Actually, I never tasted anyone’s pee up to that moment. But the moment was so perfect I couldn’t help myself, so I caved in and kissed her warm, wet pussy; teasing the inside of her thighs first would’ve been a better approach, but I was a bit worried about the effect the taste of her pee could have on me, so I went straight for the main attraction. I ran my tongue between her labia. It was wetter than usual, and her normal taste had a strong salty overtone, with a not entirely pleasant bitter aftertaste. When we discussed it some time later she said, “That’s morning pee for you. I don’t like it either.” and then added cheekily, “With proper hydration I can brew better stuff for us during the day, next time.” and winked. Despite the taste wasn’t entirely of my liking, the only thing I could think was “I licked Sam’s pee! I’m tasting her pee for the first time!” Part of me was hoping that she had a bit more in store for a bonus spurt. I didn’t like the taste, but I wanted more of it; I wanted to experience it fully. The thought surprised me, but it made me even hornier. I realized I was hesitating. I didn’t want to give her the impression that her taste was ruining my mood, so focussed again on her pussy. I sucked her labia, then straightened my tongue to lick from the bottom of her pussy to the top, when I finally touched her clit. I gently put my lips around it for a delicate stimulation, then sucked on it with a bit more energy. She was panting heavily and moaning and shaking, probably close to an orgasm. Her bush was tickling my nose, her hand clenching the shower box. I didn’t want to finish it there, but I gave her clit another good suck. Her knees bent a little. Instead of holding her up, I accompanied her on the floor. There was pee all over the place, but who cares. She spread her legs and used her hands to guide my penis to her pussy. I put it inside and waited a few seconds to enjoy the velvety feeling of her vagina enveloping my shaft and to let her take a breath, then started to thrust. We had sex there, in the middle of the large puddle we made before. We came. I had one of the best orgasms of my entire life. Afterwards we sat there on the floor of the bathroom, regaining our breath. We kissed again. “Have I already told you I love you?” I said. “Several times, but it’s always welcome.” Spring was off to a good start. 5 In May I had to attend a comic convention, so I left the city for a few days. I hat to work at the booth of one of my customers, drawing sketches on the books I illustrated whenever someone bought one. We arrived on Thursday evening, so that we could be ready to set up the booth early next day, when the convention actually opened. Day one, Friday: The first day was boring and uneventful. After dinner I went back to my hotel room, a sad little place with brown striped wallpaper, barely wide enough to have a single bed and a wardrobe in it. I sat on the bed, opened my laptop and called Sam via Skype. When she answered the webcam was recording an empty chair. “How’s it going?” her voice asked. There was a rustling noise in the background. “Well. Today it was quiet. Fridays are always lazy days at conventions, the big crowd will come tomorrow. I don’t even know why they bother doing three days instead of just the weekend. You?” “Lazy day here as well. Rainy too. It’s pouring outside.” “You should’ve come along. Four nights us two alone in a hotel room. It’s so tiny we would’ve had to sleep on top of each other, but I don’t see a problem in that.” “I bet you don’t you pervert. So, you do miss me.” “Always.” “Good boy. In that case I have a present for you. A memento, let’s say.” She stepped inside the frame and leaned against the seatback of her desk char with the arm, the weight on one leg and the other crossed over it. “Ta-dah! Noticed anything?” “You are unusually well dressed for a lazy evening at home?” I ventured. “Just that?” “You went somewhere crazy and want to brag about it?” “Getting colder. It’s the opposite of what I had in mind in at least two ways: first, I’m staying home, second, I plan on getting warmer soonish.” A mischievous smirk on her face showed that she was up to no good. “Promising!” “So, you’re not seeing it?” “A little clue?” “Isn’t anything I’m wearing familiar?” I gave it a better look and something dawned in my mind. “Ok, I’ll fall for the trap so you can have it your way and call me a pervert again. Is the skirt the one you were wearing at the new year’s eve party when, you know, pee happened?” “Indeed you are a pervert, but you guessed right!” She straightened up. “I’m also wearing something else from that night.” She raised the skirt and indeed, I saw familiar green panties under it. I straightened up and paid more attention to the chat; this was heading in a direction I liked. “They seem a bit too dry, I think I prefer to remember them the way they were the last time.” “I hoped you would. Let’s fix that, pronto.” She came closer to the webcam, framed from her knee to just above her waist. “What about Linda?” I asked. Linda is her flatmate. “It’s Friday and she has a social life, unlike us nerds. She’ll be out clubbing until late. Now stop ruining the atmosphere, I’ve been filling the tanks for hours for us and I’m too horny to deal with trifles.” She raised her skirt once again, widened her legs, reached out of the frame with her hand and brought back an impressive beer mug, which she put under her crotch. No special effects at start. A small stream started to fall gently from her pants, bending towards her right leg. She angled the mug to catch it better without stopping. The hissing got louder and the stream stronger. I was transfixed by the whole scene; despite the loud noise, the pale yellow stream was flowing gently, with an almost calming sweetness. The widening wet patch that started to show the bush under the panties, the gurgling of the pee pouring inside the mug, the bubbles where the stream met the surface of the liquid inside the mug, all was mesmerizing. I started to rub myself. Her free hand came into the frame; she put her pointer finger inside the opposite leg hole near the top, slid it down and pulled the crotch of her panties to one side. The stream danced around the edge of the pants, seemingly getting stronger for a minute as the pee that was being held inside by the fabric poured out, splashing her hand and the inside of her thighs. The hissing, without the panties to muffle it, got louder, and the stream, now unimpeded by the fabric, arched forward a bit. She quickly adjusted the position of the mug to stop the pee spraying out of it; she then must’ve decided that it worked better with the panties in place, so she slid them back. That interfered with the stream, that split for a second, creating a small rivulet that rolled along her leg before reaching the edge of the mug. The soggy fabric bulged and made the hissing sound squishier, but the stream was still flowing. She must’ve peed for at least a full minute. The gurgling of the pee inside the mug was getting high pitched as the mug filled, then the stream finally started to die down. It wasn’t a forced stop, it was the natural lowering in pressure that signals that there’s nothing left in the bladder. She slid the soaked crotch of her panties on one side to expose her pussy once again to let the last few drops fall freely inside the mug, and it finally ended. She waited a moment then took a deep breath. The mug was almost full, sparkling glares the colour of the straw on her hand. She put it down on the desk, then carefully repositioned her pants where they belonged and straightened a few kinks of the soaked fabric with both hands (I knew she did it just to tease me because she’s well aware that this kind of nonchalance with pee drives me crazy). She stepped back, raised the skirt off her bottom, sat on the chair, smoothed the skirt (or possibly dried her hands in it) and crossed her legs. Just in time for me to come, as I hastily grabbed some paper tissues from the package on the nightstand. She stared up at the monitor and said “Are you already done? Without me?” “Don’t worry, I’m more than ready for a second round, eager to see what you have in store for that mug, but I couldn’t let the previous scene go to waste.” She flaunted her signature Cheshire Cat grin as she reached to picked up the mug. “What I’ll do with this, you say?” The weight of the full mug must’ve caught her off guard, as she jolted it up, spilling some of it’s content on the desk. “Waste it on the furniture? That’s kinda anticlimactic” I said. “No biggies” she said as she wiped the drops off the table with her bare hand, then she put the mug on her lap and cupped her hands around it, like an oversized cup of tea. “Nice and warm, perfect for a rainy night.” She dipped a finger in the mug, then gave it a mischievous lick. “Well, it’s lovely. My kidneys did an awesome job today”, again her signature grin. “Now, wouldn’t you want to be here?” Just as I said, I was already standing to attention for round 2 and about to answer, but then I heard some noise and saw Sam hastily put down the mug, which spilled once again, and turn towards the door of her room. “Linda! What the…” she hissed to let me know what was going on. Ditto, I saw her flatmate through the bedroom door frantically walking in the corridor. Sam ran towards the door to stop her getting in the room, in case she’d notice what was going on at her desk. I overheard some confusing conversation, occasional screaming, then Sam came back, said “Evening’s over, gotta go” and closed the call. A downer ending if I ever saw one. Day two: As expected, Saturday was the craziest day. People were flooding in, the place was packed, hot and somewhat smelly. It turns out that sweat, cheaply painted home-made props and even cheaper burgers from the food stand all mixed together do not make good air fresheners. There were cosplayers who stuck their their cardboard swords in your eyes every time they turned around to check on their friends. There were parents who wouldn’t give a hoot if their kids were tampering with the books with their hands covered in chocolate. There was the damn Star Wars parade who patrolled the premises every other hour blasting the Imperial March in everyone’s ears. Days like the previous one make you resent being bound to the booth. Days like this one make you thank the booth every few minutes as visitors look lustfully at the chair and reasonable amount of personal space it grants you. At lunch I checked my phone and found a WhatsApp from Sam: S: -Drama happened last night. First Linda had a fight with her boyfriend, then, while she was loosing her mind, someone stole her purse. Her boyfriend gone, her money and phone gone, she couldn’t get a taxi or call someone, so she had to walk all the way home, under yesterday’s downpour. I had to calm her down and accompany her to the police.- I: -Poor Linda. I know there are more dramatic aspects of the evening, but… how did you deal with the mug and everything?- S: -While she was getting out of her rain soaked clothes in her bedroom, I rushed back, got out of my pee soaked panties, used them to quickly wiped any spillage and threw them in the paper bin; then I closed my room, helped her getting ready while her mind was all over the place, and left the apartment with her. That skirt must be cursed, every time I wear it I end up walking around commando style for the night. Last time it was more fun, though.- I: -Then what?- S: -Police, then hours sitting with her while she vented. When I finally came back the room was… scented. But I wasn’t in the mood to take advantage of it any more. Besides, it was getting too strong and pungent for my tastes. I just opened the french door to ventilate the room and emptied the mug on a vase on my balcony. Hopefully if she finds anything, she’ll think that the stink is some cat’s fault.- I: -What a waste.- S: -You can say that! I’ve been planning our little moment for the whole day; I was the horniest I’ve been in quite a while, stuff that rivalled my best teenager days; I brewed the finest piss in the land, because of course: I’m awesome and my kidneys can’t help but be awesome too; and by the time I was by myself you were no doubt already snoring in your nice, non smelly hotel room and the last thing I had in mind was to get laid. And Linda! Thank God she was too upset to really think about anything, this time it was really close!- I: -What did you call it yesterday? “Trifles”? I’d plan for those next time if I were you.- S: -It doesn’t seem it’ll be happening anytime soon. I do have a lot of steam piling up, but Linda is all over the place and apparently I’ve been recruited as part of the support team. Goddamnit.- I: -Pity. I’m sorry for you.- And that was it for the afternoon. By the end of the day I was really tired, I dragged myself to the bedroom after dinner, took a shower and fell asleep soon after. Day three: Finally, the last day. It ended up being a cross between day one and two. The morning was once again crazily packed, but in the afternoon it got progressively quieter. By the evening the place looked a bit sad and downtrodden, the occasional late visitor walking around aimlessly hoping for some late discovery or some last minute discount. We packed up the booth, had the “goodbye convention” dinner and went to our rooms for the last time; we’d be going back home the very next morning. I was showering when I heard the phone chirping. When I checked it it was again a WhatsApp from Sam: S: -Open the bloody Skype already!- I fired up my laptop and instantly got a call. “What’s up?” I asked. Sam was clearly very excited and was doing a little dance on the spot. “This morning I subcontracted Linda’s support to her friends. Then her boyfriend came with an entire forest of flowers and apparently a tentative peace was achieved. Then we accompanied her to the restaurant where he invited her for peace talks round two, and she’ll be out the whole night either doing peace round 3 in more practical ways, or being supported by someone who, crucial point, is definitely not me. Blessing the luck that turned another awful day into one of the very rare awesome nights when I’m the sole ruler of the apartment, I arranged a network of spies who will warn me if something goes wrong and deal with it, and rushed home because I too eagerly want to enjoy something that sounds a lot like peace to the untrained ear.” She said, taking off her shirt and tossing it on one side. No bras, like most of the times. Her nipples were hard and pointy. “Blunt.” “Listen. There’s an orgasm that is long overdue as I was meant to have it two days ago. Plus, as soon as things seemed to take the right path this afternoon, I started to drink water like a camel that has been lost in the desert for a month. Either you stop the nonsense this instant, or I’ll take care of myself on my own.” As she was saying this, she stopped her little two steps dance and stood upright on both legs, her hands on her hips. She was still talking when the first drops appeared on the crotch of her jeans. She turned a bit to the right and crossed her legs for a moment when a tiny stream escaped the fabric and started to splash on the floor with a little tingling sound. That wasn’t the sound of liquid dropping on towels, she was likely going on the naked floor. She must’ve been REALLY eager for a mess. I love her more than ever when she’s in this mood. The sound stopped. When she uncrossed the legs, there was a long streak of dark wet fabric along her right leg. She took a deep breath. “So good… rolling down my leg...” Sam is always chatty when she has this much steam piled up. She turned again to be full frontal with the webcam, drops still dribbling from the crotch and started to unbutton her jeans. Pee was lazily dripping from her red panties when she lowered the jeans halfway down her thighs, then she put her hands on the back of her hips and straightened up. She took a step closer to the webcam. Pee never actually stopped dripping lazily and doing little acute splashing noises as it hit the floor while she adjusted, but now the stream was picking up volume. “I said down the leg!”, she murmured as she shifted her weigh on her right leg. The stream obeyed the order and started rolling down her left leg. She gave another sigh and brought both hands on her crotch. Pee gurgled like a little mountain stream, with rivulets dripping through her fingers. “Warm...”, she whispered. She dragged her dripping hands up to her belly, then stuck the thumbs inside the panties and dragged them down, halfway between her crotch and where the pants were. She had stopped peeing again, but clearly some pee must’ve pooled inside her panties, because they were still dripping and two small waterfalls briefly escaped from the two legs hole when she lowered them. The jeans, those never stopped dripping for a second. The must’ve been a lake hanging a few centimetres above her knees. She took another step closer to the camera and started leaking again. No restrain this time, the stream arched over the panties and hit the floor with a thundering sound. She didn’t care. She put her right hand through the stream and dragged it up again once, twice, thrice, each time with a deep, satisfied sigh. She lowered the pressure of the stream and waved her hips to make the stream hit her legs again. She used her fingers to spread her pussy lips and turned a bit on both sides. Pee was splashing everywhere. She brought the right hand to her mouth and sucked the middle finger. Then the pointer. “Mmmmhh”, she murmured. The stream dropped to a rivulet for a second as her left hand darted outside the frame and came back with a regular kitchen glass, which was positioned roughly in front of her crotch. She bent down a bit and shoot her final round, pee splashing inside the glass. When she moved it away the stream died and part one of the show was over. The jeans and the panties were still dripping like crazy, but only a couple of tardy drops were falling from her pussy as she rubbed it a couple of times with her right hand. She brought the glass up to give it a good look, subconsciously sticking the point of her tongue through her lips. It was less than a quarter full of pale yellow pee. She brought the glass to her mouth and poured it in in a single mouthful. She closed her eyes, keeping the pee in her mouth for a second, then gulped it down. She smiled and gave a sigh of satisfaction. The hand that was rubbing her pussy was starting to pick up speed. She licked some drops from the border of the glass and put it down on the desk. She was starting to pant. She clumsily picked up the webcam and when the commotion ended and I could see again, the webcam was framing the floor from a slightly raised position, like a pile of books or something of that nature, and Sam was sitting in the largest of the various pee puddles and splashes that were around. Still rubbing her pussy and panting, she laid back, her legs spread and her knees raised. She sloshed her other hand in the puddle then she used it to tease her nipples. The other hand kept picking up speed. Her pant got faster and louder. When she finally came she splashed the other hand on the floor once again, she arched her back and a final, tiny spurt of liquid jolted out of her pussy. She lay there for a second, catching her breath. The whole thing had been amazing. Despite my tiredness, I savoured every second of it. My orgasm had been as powerful as hers. A few moments later she rolled lazily on the floor, grasped at the camera, and when she finally managed to grab it, she put it down in front of her face. She was laying on her side, dripping pee everywhere, still panting heavily but with a dreamy, relaxed expression and a lovely smile on her face. I mimed a kiss through the ether. She sent one back. “This was you masterpiece, Sam.” No answer, just another smile. “I wish I was there to cuddle you.” “In this mess? Weren’t you germophobic?” “That was too lovely for germs to have anything to do with it.” She sent another kiss. We went on for a bit with caries-inducing telematic cuddles. Finally I said “Tomorrow I’m coming home. Have you vented all your steam? Isn’t there anything left for me?” “A day is long, steam may reach operating pressure levels again. We’ll see.” A wink. Then Sam landed back on Earth, complained that, while it had been fun, she had now to clean up, we kissed each other goodnight and she closed the call.
  10. Uncut penis here, and zero smell at the end of the day or in the underwear. To begin with, I distinctly remember at kindergarden being taught to retract the skin while peeing (so the same applies to all the other males I know, I suppose), plus being pee shy I'm not too fond of urinals, I prefer use stalls, and therefore wipe with toilet paper after peeing most of the time anyway. Also, at home I have a bidet. A nice rince after you do number two helps keeping both the back and the front side nice, clean and odour-free.
  11. Oh, definitely. I guess it's a cautionary tale for parents: if your kids are into tinkering, they will tinker. Better allow them to do it in a safe environment.
  12. I almost sawed off my left pointer finger. I was a kid, probably 7 or 8 years old. I've always been into model making, even as a kid. And gluing and painting wasn't enough, my plans had always been unreasonably grand and I was frequently frustrated when I couldn't follow them. The poor man's Adam Savage. Without a workshop, And actual knowledge and/or experience. Of course my parents did not allow me around dangerous stuff, that didn't mean that I never actually managed to sneakily use them once in a while. That day I was fixated with sawing a plastic toy boat in half, because I needed that shape for another model I wanted to build, can't remember what was. I can only remember the green cartoony hull. Anyway, since saws were out of question, I managed to steal a huge serrated edge knife from the kitchen, one of those knife you'd use to cut bread, and started sawing my toy boat. Really stupid thing, kids. Don't do it. I'd say that even actual saws are safer than this. Not long after I started, the knife got stuck for a bit, I forced it, being a clumsy kid I held the boat with my fingers in the way of the blade, so when the blade came unstuck, it went right through my finger. I could see solid white-ish stuff under the cut skin, at that time I thought it was the bone. Actually it was probably the tendon. I distinctly remember I wasn't even shocked or panicking, all I could think of was that my parents were going to be angry. Anyway it wasn't actually a big deal, they patched me up well at the hospital. My finger is still where it should be and it works properly, I only have a scar and a silly story to tell once in a while.
  13. I'll add my vote for the "right size for the right body type" option.
  14. Thanks! This is actually the only sexy story I've ever posted. I posted a slightly different version on another community last year (overall shorter, and chapter 2 and 3 were mashed together). I can't remember the name of the site, sorry. It's a forum, mostly dedicated to stories. They put the initial part of some posts on their home page, but then you have to register to read the rest. I did it in order to read a couple of stories that looked promising (they weren't, unfortunatly), and since I was there and I had the idea for this story in a corner of my brain, I decided to write a post. Never went back to that community since then. I've been discussing the story in a private chat with another member of omo.org, and she suggested me to post it here in the fiction section to see what happens. I definitely want to continue this, I just have to find the right idea,tight set-up and a good amount of Sam banter appropriate for the situation. I have a couple of ideas I discarded because they felt too over the top while I want to keep thi series somewhat relatable and believable; maybe I'll put together a story with those with different characters.
  15. Again, thank all of you very much! Third and (so far) final part. I'm not entirely happy with this one, it's kinda short and straight to the point, it lacks the banter I enjoyed writing in the other two. What is blocking me when it comes to writing new chapers is not the lack of ideas for the sexy part, is the lack of ideas for the framing, plus I'm a bit torn because I believe I managed to stay within a certain level of realism/believability; I feel there should be some escalation of the erotic content, yet I fear it'll start making things feel fake and exaggerated. Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it. When I finally finished my jobs, towards the end of the month, I invited Sam at my place for lunch. I once again swear I did not plan for anything naughty on that specific day (although I definitely wanted to explore the options for the near future), I just wanted to spend some quality time with a dear friend without her flatmate in the way: they're not really friends, so Sam is always a bit restrained when she's around. This time I wanted the full Funny Coarse Sam Experience, and I wanted it live, so we chose my apartment, where I live alone, to let her feel fully at ease to unleash her personality. Besides, I enjoy cooking and I'm quite good at it, I wasn't in the mood for restaurants or takeaway food, and if you'll ever see Sam approaching a stove, run for your life and be prepared to hire a professional cleaning crew for the aftermath. Or torch the whole building in the worst case scenario. She arrived in the late morning, wearing a jumper, shirt, jeans, flat shoes, and dragging her usual handbag (which I always suspected being a luggage trying - and failing miserably - to cosplay as a handbag). We had a nice and fun and chatty morning as I was preparing our lunch (Sam was in a really good mod and her wit was in an extraordinary shape), had a pleasant time during the meal, then Sam offered to wash the dishes and that's when things took an unexpected yet enjoyable turn. While she was rinsing the dishes, she suddenly said, "This cold water is a stab at my poor bladder!" I quickly turn towards her and saw a dark, shiny patch expanding between her legs; I dragged my eyes up, saw her cheeky smirk and decided to play along. I started to move towards her, but she stopped me with "Don't be greedy. Also I have to finish the chores first", which she did. The patch stopped expanding, she must've leaked just enough to wet the jeans, but I couldn't peel my eyes off it while Sam moved around the kitchen to finish cleaning stuff, went out on the balcony to put the garbage in the bins as if wearing pants decorated by a noticeable pee patch was the most natural thing ever. I was thinking that she didn't go to the bathroom since she arrived at my place and trying to calculate how much water she drank during lunch, in order to figure out what to expect from the near future. When she finished tidying up, she went back on the rug in front of the sink, stood there with her weight on her right leg and the left leg relaxed, her right hand hanging with the thumb from the jeans' pocket, and opened the floodgates. I watched the patch becoming shiny again, expand and start running down her leg; this time she didn't stop me when I went closer. I put my hands on her hips and told her not to waste it all here. She looked at me, smirked and stopped peeing. She threw her jumper and the shirt under it on the table; I already knew that bras were rare items in Sam’s outfits, but it’s always nice to see that fact confirmed. I picked up the wet rug, she took off her jeans and panties and used them to haphazardly wipe any spillage on the floor, then we moved towards the bathroom with our load of pee wet cloths. Despite the horniness, I couldn't help but laugh at the image of Sam walking down my hallway entirely naked but still wearing socks and shoes. Thank God she's good sport and that didn't spoil the mood. In the bathroom, she finished undressing ("There, shoes off. Happy?"), I did the same, we threw the wet clothes in the washing machine and stepped into my rectangular shower. I hugged her from behind, moved her hair on one side and bent a bit to start kissing her neck (her head barely reaches my shoulders if I'm standing straight). She licked my fingers, then I started to tease one of her puffy nipples with one hand, gently circling around the border of the areola, and let the other hand caress her body and slip down to her crotch, where I playfully ruffled her bush before starting to tease the inside of her thighs and lastly moving to her clit. When I finally put my finger inside her, I whispered in her ear, "Now you can let go whatever's left." A couple of drips. Then a violent spurt that splashed on my palm and stopped immediately. What surprised me the most was the heat. I mean, I felt heat back at the night of the party when she was rubbing her crotch against my thigh, but I didn't know how much of it was the pee's and how much was just body heat. I could see she was uncharacteristically tense and was having a bit of trouble relaxing and letting it all go. Moving my hand from the nipple to the middle of the chest, I could feel her heart beating fast. I gently kissed her on the cheek and on the neck again, she smiled. I moved the hand from the chest to her stomach and started caressing it gently. It took a couple of false starts, but finally the stream started and didn't stop, splashing on the palm of the hand I still had firmly on her crotch, and then all around as I was moving my fingers to masturbate her. I moved the dry hand back to her tiny breasts and started again to kiss her neck as I kept fingering her. When the stream ended (and she indeed had surprisingly capacious tanks) I cupped my fingers to save a bit of pee and swapped hands: the one that was playing with her boobs moved downstairs to keep stimulating her, while the one with the small puddle of pee moved up, spreading the juice over her belly and her chest. Sam took control for a bit, grabbed my hand and licked my wet fingers, then when she finally came I used my free arm to hug her and steady her while the orgasm made her legs feel a bit wobbly. I kissed her cheek and she smiled again, leaning her head against me. We then sat cross legged on the wet floor of the shower (or better, I sat cross legged and she sat on top of me; my shower is a bit larger than normal, but it's not exactly a castle) where, after regaining her breath, she took my hard penis in her hands. "Care to reciprocate?" "Sorry! I peed right before lunch. I could try to push hard..." "Don't. If you fart I'll start laughing and you'll spoil the moment. Remember that you owe me one next time, for now you earned you treat anyway." Indeed she took good care of me despite the cramped situation we were in, then we hugged again. We kissed, and that was the moment when I realized that our on and off physical relationship was about to step up and going to be permanently on from this point onwards. Bonus prosaic fact: we took a shower together afterwards and when we stepped out of the shower I mused whether or not this was going to be a much sexier reprise of the commando-style day at the party, while her clothes washed and dried. Unfortunately she showed me that the cosplaying luggage handbag was storing a spare change of pants, socks, panties and shirt, which was somewhat unlucky for me, but confirmed that Sam definitely had stuff planned for that afternoon.
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