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  1. Well, here it is, folks. The grand finale. A year and a half's worth of stories, leading us here. Before we get to the story, I want to thank all the fans who supported me. Without that, I would have given up on this story arc long ago. As it is, I'm walking away not because of any lack of acclaim on this forum, but because one, I'm getting a little bored, and two, it's best to end on a high note. No need for a slow decline. And I hate stories left unfinished. Best to wrap it up. What's still to come? I will put all the "Season 3" stories together, with a couple bonus tales, and make that available; then I'll release the complete set, possibly with still more bonus content. Maybe a glimpse of Meagan & Parker's future. A little behind-the-scenes stuff, too. I wonder... perhaps a Q&A? "I write omofic that somehow turned into a romance novel. AM(M)A!" [Ask Me (Mostly) Anything] There are a lot of callbacks and references to prior stories in here. Mostly in italics, occasionally in the dialogue. Sort of a "grand tour/greatest hits" approach. I was tempted to go track down all the stories but that would take me ages. If you'd like to read everything, or just want to know what Parker's remembering in this story, just PM me for the PDFs. And now, with no further stalling... time for the curtain to go up for the last time. Enjoy. (Oh, and if you've read my stories you know what to expect, but there will be sex. So much sex.) ----------------------------------------------------------- Congratulations (Graduation Day) For once Parker woke up first. He checked the clock: they could sleep a little longer. But he didn’t go back to sleep. Instead he watched Meagan breathing, the rise and fall of the sheets over her chest, hair splayed out across the pillow. It had been a good night. They’d had a lot of good nights lately, and good days, and what could have felt like something winding down instead felt new again, new and exciting, headed for the future. He was the luckiest kid on the planet. And she was just about to be a college graduate. Her alarm started to beep. He reached across her and turned it off, then proceeded to wake her in his own way. He’d thought about going down on her, but instead he used his fingers. That way when she slowly woke, and stretched in that sleepy-sexy way, he could see the expression on her face. Which was delightful. “Mmmmmmm,” she said, smiling, eyes still half-lidded. “’Snice. Kee’ goin’.” He kissed her, and did. Keeping his thumb on her clit, he slipped a finger into her. She was already getting a little slick. He kept it up until she started to breathe a little heavy, then backed off a bit. She made little protesting noises. “I’d keep going,” he said, “but your alarm went off a few minutes ago.” “Doesn’t matter. Keep going.” “We’ll be late for graduation.” “It was cute when Willow and Oz did it,” she said. “Keep going.” “As you wish. But maybe this way instead...” Now he did go down on her. Her little murmurs of approval turned into moans of delight. She was getting closer when he paused (letting his fingers take over) and asked, “Do you want to wait until tonight?” “No.” “I just don’t want you to miss anything…” “We’ve got time,” she gasped. “Keep going.” He chuckled, and went back to licking—but he left his finger where it was, beckoning. It didn’t take long after that. “Fuck yeah,” she said. “Now that’s how to wake up.” She tried to sit up, failed, rolled over on her side. He came up to join her. “So what do we need to do?” he asked. “Well, I need to shower, and get breakfast, and then get dressed. But first I gotta take my last piss as an undergraduate.” “Line-up’s at 9:30, ceremony’s at 10—and it’ll last for a couple hours.” “Are you doubting me? After all we’ve been through?” “Never.” “Better not. Besides, you know the plan. And I’m gonna stick to it.” “I’m excited.” “Fuckin’ right you are,” she said, feeling up his hard-on. She sat up, more sucessfully this time. “Pee, then shower, then breakfast, then gettin’ dolled up.” She got up, wrapped a towel around her, and grabbed her shower bag. With one hand on the doorknob, she said, “Hey.” “Hmm?” “Wanna come watch?” “Yes please.” He threw on some shorts and they went down to the bathroom together. The house was quiet. Trav, Zach, and Cara were graduating too, but they were all downstairs. So no one saw Meagan and Parker slip into the bathroom together. She stood by the toilet for a moment, posing a little for him. “If you’re just gonna stand there, can I go first?” Parker asked. “Oh hell no.” She unwrapped the towel, to his delight, and sat down on the toilet. Then she frowned. “Hmm, I gotta do something else, hon. Maybe you don’t wanna be here for that part?” “Um—yeah, I’ll go. But I really do gotta pee too.” “Mmmkay. Let’s pee together.” She opened her legs. He needed no further urging. Mingling their streams together felt… well, right, in its own weird way. He said so. “Symbolic, almost,” he said. “Mmmhmm,” she said, tracing the length of his cock with her finger. “So much. Our own twisted little symbol. But now I’m about to drop a bomb, hon, and I don’t wanna shit all over your metaphor.” “Leaving! I’ll get breakfast ready,” he added as he stepped out. “Thank you!” Breakfast wasn’t fancy—just cereal, trying to use up the last of the milk before they moved out. Besides, they were going to have a big meal later that day. He took the bowls back up to the room, and she came back in not long after, hair dark and wet around her shoulders. She closed the door behind her, then unwrapped the towel and let it drop. He admired her body as she started taking clothes out of the closet. “Wanna eat this cereal before it gets soggy?” he said. “Mmkay!” She sat down on the bed, still naked, and took the bowl from him. They ate quickly and quietly. She caught him looking more than once, and her eyes flashed with delight and desire in acknowledgement. Then she stood up and took her cap and gown out of the closet. “So I know I had that whole outfit planned,” she said, “but how about this instead?” And she put the mortarboard on. “Just that?” “Mmmhmm!” “That’s a strong fashion statement,” he said. “I feel like the president might frown on it…” “Oh, just because I’m hotter than her?” “Nah, every woman in the crowd would be thinking that.” She grinned. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” She took the flat hat off and combed her wet hair out. “Hang on, let me get a picture with the funny hat,” Parker said, going for the Polaroid camera. She laughed and put it back on and posed for him—framed in the closet door, one hand on her hip and the other on the frame, a triumphant/seductive smile on her face and nothing on her body. Click. Then she took the hat off again and started putting together her wardrobe for the day. The base layer was her best bra and panties—the same matching dark-red satin pair she’d worn two years before for his first birthday present. They still brought out her hair and her eyes amazingly. “No, silly—here… I’m about to leak, I’m gonna piss right now…” “Wait!” “There’s no way I can wait any more!” He could almost hear her stream splattering on the bottom of the trash can. He watched as she tucked her breasts into the cups of the bra and hooked it up. Strange how putting it on could be almost exciting as taking it off. Then he flashed back again, this to the first time she’d ever taken that bra off for him: “No, let me, you’ll take forever...” Next a pair of jeans—but at least not ripped—and a pair of brand-new Converse sneakers. “I do love your mom,” she said. “I honestly think she was mortified,” Parker said. Meagan shrugged (oh, so amazing when she wasn’t wearing a shirt yet!)—but she did blush a little. “I’ve got my style. Deal with it.” Making a virtue of financial necessity, he thought—but instead he just said, “Graduating in jeans and sneakers is not my mother’s way.” “I know. But she bought me new jeans and sneakers anyway. That’s why I love her.” “Mmmhmm. For the record, I think my dad loves the idea.” “Probably.” She slipped into a blouse, her solitary concession to the formality of the occasion. Then she brushed her hair again. “Wearing it down?” “Best thing about me,” she said. “Oh, I very much beg to differ.” “What, you’ve got a different contender?” “Well, let’s just say you’ve got many excellent qualities that are all jockeying for first.” “Yeah? Let’s hear ‘em.” “These,” he said, running his hands over her boobs, “and these,” down to her hips and legs, “and of course this...” tapping her bladder. She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and those too.” “What?” “Your eyes.” She smiled. “See?” he said. “Your eyes are just… amazing.” “No, I can’t see,” she said, shoving him gently, “because I can’t see my own eyeballs!” He grabbed her, starting to steer her toward the mirror, but she laughed and said, “Mirrors lie, don’t you know that by now?” “Then let me be your mirror. And this mirror says you are stunning. Every inch of you.” She kissed him. “And I’m so proud of you.” “Thank you,” she said. “For all of that.” They made out until she saw the clock. “Crap. I should head over.” “I’ll walk you there.” “I was hoping you would.” Outside it was a bright spring morning, already warm. It would get still warmer, with those clear blue skies. They walked hand-in-hand onto campus. She was wearing her funny hat, and had her gown draped over an arm. The graduates were supposed to line up in alphabetical order inside Cole Hall. Ahead of them, the rest of Meagan’s graduating class was converging. Young men stood around, dressed sharply in ties and wingtips—or just in t-shirts and shorts, pretending that they were naked underneath. Parker briefly contemplated Meagan doing the same, only actually naked under the gown, but decided it wasn’t the time. Young women flocked together (with the occasional proud loner), in high heels and skirts or dresses, with well-done hair and immaculate makeup—or, rather closer to Meagan’s style, in t-shirts and flip-flops. There was a decided hippie aspect to their school sometimes. Meagan outshone them all—at least to Parker’s eyes. “Here’s where I get off,” he said as they reached Cole’s front door. “See you on the other side.” “’Kay. Love you.” “Right back atcha.” They kissed, and Parker went in search of his parents. In time they called him, since they hadn’t been able to find him either, and with a little bit of phone triangulation, Parker finally tracked them down. Since they were not officially family, they did not have reserved seats. But it was an outdoor ceremony, and they could get a perfectly fine view off to the side. Donna Daniels had managed to get a program, though, and they flipped through to find Meagan’s name. “Oh, she got honors!” Donna said. “She didn’t tell us...” “Departmental and college,” Will Daniels added. “She didn’t tell me either,” Parker said. “I don’t think she knew! She was really worried, down toward the end…” The sun shone down through the leaves of the trees all around them, casting lovely intricate patterns of shadows. At times this was the most interesting part of the program, while waiting for the good parts. The various speakers droned on, the various performers performed. Finally names began to be read and graduates began to proceed across the stage. When they hit the L’s, Parker began searching what he could see of the line, looking ahead for Meagan. He spotted her fairly quickly. She was obviously looking around for him. He waved, but this didn’t help. Then, just as she stepped up onto the stage, her eyes made one last sweep across the crowd—and locked onto him. He put his hand up. She grinned, wide enough that he could see it from forty yards away, and put her hand over her heart. Then: “Meagan McAllister!” She strode forward, red academic gown swirling around her jeans and sneakers, took her diploma firmly in one hand, shook the president’s hand with her other—and as she came down off the stage, she punched the sky in triumph. Then there were the last impatient moments—everyone from M through Z, for instance, and the presentation of the Class of 2006, and the turning of tassels… Finally the cheers rang out, the applause rained down, and the graduates processed out onto the quad, where they broke up and found their families. Meagan was laughing, laughing out loud, as she ran to Parker and the Danielses. She picked Parker right up off his feet and spun him around and kissed him, and then hugged Donna and Will almost as enthusiastically, and everything about her radiated the words I did it I did it I did it! “Well done,” Donna said. “I got pictures of it all,” Will said. “Hope they turn out okay.” “Thank you,” Meagan said, still half-laughing, her eyes bright. “Thank you for coming, and for taking pictures, and… and for everything…” “You’re welcome,” Donna said. “How could we not come? We hear you’re going to be in our lives a while longer yet. And we hear that our son has found an exceptionally sensible, clear-eyed young woman to love.” Meagan hugged her again. “To put it another way,” Will said, “Welcome to the family.” So then Meagan had to hug him again, and started to cry. And kept laughing, at the same time. When her sobbing guffaws had settled down in Parker’s arms, and when she’d dried her eyes, commented on the benefits of not wearing makeup, and posed for a succession of pictures with the Danielses, and when they were walking somewhat aimlessly through campus, exulting in the warmth of the sun and the sheer joy of the day, Will said, “So! Lunchtime?” “Yes please,” Meagan said, and they piled in the Daniels car and headed off. Donna had wisely made reservations some weeks before, because the town was small and therefore graduation filled up every acceptable-for-parents hotel and restaurant quickly. It was the kind of restaurant that might have made Meagan nervous on any other day—it was not really a Converse sneakers kind of place, and the prices almost exclusively came in small, discreet double digits. But today she was on top of the world, and besides, the parents were paying. So she wore her mortarboard into the restaurant (but not the gown) and defied the world to question her attire. Then she set the funny hat aside to tie back her hair and actually eat. And drink. Parker watched her steadily plow through a glass of water, a glass of wine, and then another water. She nudged him with her knee under the table to draw attention to each new glass she drained. Parker felt his pulse begin to climb, for he knew the plan. “So you wanna head out now?” “Sure. Bring your water bottle.” “Bring yours. I’m gonna want more than just one bottle if I’m going to pee all over campus…I’m gonna probably have to pee in—oh, about ten minutes, after all that water. Where to next?” The memory of that most-memorable Thanksgiving break faded as the conversation came around to an important issue. “So, this summer at the camp again, and then you start at Michigan in the fall,” Donna said. “Right,” Meagan said. “The scholarship came through, and I’m getting the loans lined up. Makes me a little nervous, that part. But honestly, the roughest thing about all this is that I’m going to ‘that school up north.’ My family’s always been on the OSU side.” Donna and Will both looked a little blank. “Football rivalry,” Meagan said dismissively. “Doesn’t matter. It might matter to my family. But to me? Does not matter at all.” “Have you told your family that you graduated?” Donna asked. “I’m gonna send them a picture of my diploma,” Meagan said. “Parker talked me out of writing ‘Haha, got it anyway’ on the back.” “How wise of him,” Donna said. As the meal wrapped up, they made arrangements for the next day. “We’ll be over at ten to help you move out,” Donna said. “What’s next for you two today? Parties?” “Well, maybe,” Meagan said. “But mostly we’re gonna take a walk and just enjoy the moment.” “Be careful you don’t stay out too long,” Will said. “Forecast says there’ll be thunderstorms this evening.” “We’ll be fine,” Meagan said. She poured her third glass of water, ice and all, into her bottle, and then took a sip. The elder Danielses dropped them off at Franklin House and waved their further congratulations and take-cares. As Meagan and Parker walked up to the big white pillars, Parker looked up at the house and said, “Weird that we’re leaving tomorrow. And a little sad.” “Sad? We had some rough times here.” “And some great times.” “ ’Kay, that’s fair.” “And we’re about to have another great time.” “Mmmmhmmm.” The house was empty—none of the other graduates or celebrating housemates had come back yet—so they could speak freely. “How you doin’?” Parker asked. “Oh, I’m starting to feel it a bit,” Meagan said, and took a swig from her bottle. “Only just now?” “It was hot out in that robe! I was sweating a little. Don’t worry, I’ll make up for lost time”—and she took another swig. “I just want to change clothes, speaking of sweating—and then we can go.” She ran upstairs and came down again just a moment later, having swapped her button-down blouse for a t-shirt with the college name emblazoned across her breasts, and her jeans for cut-offs. Then they locked the door behind them and headed out. They were bound for a place they hadn’t spent a lot of time, until quite recently: the river valley. The river had carved a notch in the prairie here, not quite a gorge but deep enough that several streets crossed it on bridges. Down below those bridges was a park, if park was the right word. It didn’t get a lot of attention or traffic, especially away from the main road down to it, and was edging into wild, unclaimed, certainly unkempt land. There were some old abandoned buildings along that road, of some historical significance but without much care. And the river flowed serenely through it all. They were going to the river. It was about a twenty-minute walk from Franklin House to the valley floor: they had to cross one of the bridges, turn left and then follow a fishhook-shaped road down back under the bridge they’d just come over, and then down to the bottom. They passed the old buildings, the concrete shells no longer roofed, and went south along the riverbank, following the little path that walkers used. They met a few people here and there. Having gone pretty far south, however, they came to the edge of what seemed parklike and crossed over into the land that was much more untended. The path got narrower and the bushes got bigger. Then they re-found the little place they’d discovered on an earlier expedition: a little grass patch by the river, not so overgrown, but still mostly hidden by the bushes on either side and a tree overhead, which kept the people in the houses above from seeing anything. Having just walked for the better part of an hour, Meagan and Parker sat down on the grass and cuddled. “How are you doing?” Parker asked again. “Oh, I’m just fine. Gotta pee a little bit, but that’s no trouble yet,” she said cheerfully. “I got my lover, I got a warm spring day, I got my diploma—what could be better?” “Well, from my perspective: having to pee a little more.” “Gotcha covered,” she said, and took another deep pull on her water bottle. He rested his head on her shoulder. “Love you.” “Yeah you do.” “So how are we gonna do this?” “Well, according to the plan… “Oh, sorry, didn’t mean today. I meant when you’re in Ann Arbor.” “Well, excuse you for being so vague. Also for ruining a perfectly good setup for a ‘doing you’ joke.” “Oooh, a tragic loss! My deepest apologies.” “ ’Kay. So you mean long-disctance. Well, there’s this thing called Skype.” “I’ve heard of it.” “We’ll have to get webcams, but I think those aren’t too expensive… and I may have hinted that they’d make a great graduation gift…” “Heh. You’re brilliant.” “It’ll be important for way more than sex. I think we should make some commitments around communication.” “I agree, that’s gonna be critical. Every day?” “We definitely need to text every day. Even if it’s just ‘How’d your day go, less than three.’ ” “Huh? …Oh, I get it. Mmkay. But not calling?” “Let’s call on Skype… twice a week? Three times?” “Twice a week for sure. But we can go higher.” “Agreed. And one of those should be date night. I don’t want to suck up all your social life, though, so maybe not Friday or Saturday?” “Tuesday, maybe? So we’ve got something to look forward to at the beginning of the week?” “Mm, nice idea. But we may need to adjust based on our school schedules. Still, no matter about that, here’s what I’m thinking for date night: call on Skype and eat dinner together. And then after that… well, be sure you’re alone.” “Mmmmmmmm.” “It’s funny, I think it’ll be easy to do our kinks online, at least by comparison. It’s the other kinds of sex that’ll be harder… but we can show off for each other, I guess.” “I can see how we can do my kink,” he said, thinking of a dramatic exchange of texts two summers past. “You just drink a lot of water before dinner and then keep me updated. But yours?” “Easy. Imagine this. It’s a Tuesday. Lunchtime. You get a text from me: ‘Last piss until tonight.’ Then not long later: ‘Just finished my water bottle. Going for a refill. Goal: finish it by the end of class.’ Two hours later: ‘Done. Shall I fill it up again?’” “Oooh. I’d say yes, of course.” “Then later you get another from me: ‘Study time! One sip for every page. 54 pages assigned tonight.’” “Mmmmmmmm.” “Then we meet for dinner online. You can see that I’m already locked down, but I pour myself a glass anyway. You can see that I’ve got to cross my legs. By this time you’re all hard.” “Yeah, I can believe that.” “And then I tell you, ‘You get to come when I pee. Not before. And you only get to touch yourself when I do.’ And then I’ll proceed to hold it for you, on camera, for another hour.” “Oh, yes. I like this.” “But it won’t just be holding. It’ll be posing. Legs crossing. Stripping. Teasing. Every now and then I’ll grab my crotch, and then—but only then—can you jack off.” “Yes, please.” “Then imagine,” she went on, gently running her fingertips over the bulge of his hard-on, “as I take the camera into the bathroom, and stand in the shower—naked, wriggling all over the place. Finally the only way I can hold it in is to hold myself. So of course you hold yourself too. But then I work up the strength and I take my hands away, so you have to stop…” “Mmmmmmmmmm.” “And since just telling you this story has gotten you all hot,” she said, still stroking the crotch of his shorts, “I think it’ll work great once I actually do it.” “Uh. Yes. Yes, yes, yes.” “Can’t do that every week,” she said. “But at least once a month.” “Uh. Wow. Suddenly I can’t wait for this.” “Oh, I think you can,” she purred. “After all, waiting for it right now means you get to be here with me.” “Very true.” “Can we switch positions? Your turn.” “Sure.” She leaned back against him—subtly grinding against his hard-on with her butt as she settled in—and took his hands in hers. She guided them over her body, leading them to rest on her crotch. “Help me hold it?” she asked, over her shoulder. “With pleasure.” “And pressure, please. Just a little.” With some verbal guidance from Meagan, he found the right spot and pressed against it with two fingers. He used his thumb to run over her clit, and she shivered. “That’s perfect,” she murmured, laying her hands on his thighs. “Keep going…” They stayed like that for a time, hidden from the world, not worrying about being seen, falling quiet, the sound of the river covering the small noises of fingers on fabric and pleasure in the back of her throat. He kissed her neck and hair, and sent his free hand wandering over all of her body that he could reach. He could feel the tension in her body growing, but he could also feel her total arousal—in the quickened rhythm of her breathing, in her erect nipples under shirt and bra, in the way she twitched at his touch and tightened her grip on his legs or arms. Every now and then she would take his hands in hers and hold him still for a bit, not letting herself get too close to climax—but keeping the pressure on her crotch. The returned pressure of her body against his kept him hard. They were so lost in each other that they didn’t even register the sound of thunder for a while. Then a louder roll made Meagan open her eyes. “Oh, wow, it’s getting dark.” “Dark? But it’s not that late.” “Well, we’ve been out here a while, but it’s got to be that storm. And if it’s already starting to get dark, we’d better head home quick.” Part of it was that they were in the river valley, and so in shade. But the sky was definitely getting dark overhead. Then the thunder rolled again, louder this time. They scrambled to their feet and headed back up the trail, rather more quickly than they had come—but it wasn’t long before Meagan paused, every muscle tensed up. “I think we would have had to leave soon anyway,” she said. “I’m really getting there.” And then she took another drink from her bottle. “I love you so much,” Parker said. "I know," she said. They hustled up the trail, not saying much. After about ten minutes, Meagan said quietly, “So lover? We’ve got a decision to make.” “Yeah?” “I think I’m gonna need to change the plan a little. All that water is ganging up on me. Plus the river.” “You can hold it.” “Oh, that’s not even a question,” she said. “Of course I can. But we were gonna fuck while I was still holding…” “I remember the term I used was ‘make love,’ but yeah.” “Well, I really wanna fuck.” “I can live with that.” “So I can hold it until we get home. It’ll be close, my bladder is filling fast now. But I know I can do it. What I don’t know is if I can fuck you when we get there. You might not fit.” “Gosh, you are tight.” “I’ve got to be, I’m desperate enough… oh. Oh. Yes, this feels so good, I forgot how much… please. Please. A little deeper, but be gentle or I’ll explode all over you.” “I wanted my first piss to be after we fucked but that’s just not gonna happen,” Meagan said, brining him back to the present. “So would you rather we fucked after? Or would you like me to let a little out first, and then still fuck while I’m desperate?” “Let a little out, then fuck. Absolutely.” "Thought you might say that,” she said. “So next question: do you want me to wait until we get back to the house, or do you want me to piss out here?” “I don’t suppose we could do it all out here? Sex included?” “No chance,” she said. “Not with that storm coming.” Thunder rolled—much closer now, and nicely on cue. “Yeah, that was a long shot. But yeah, out here would be great. I’ve got a place in mind, too: those old abandoned buildings.” “Perfect,” she said. “But just to make sure I’m still bursting when we get home…” She finished her water bottle in three big gulps. “And now let’s hustle before we get wet.” “From the storm or something else?” he teased. “Either one!” she said over her shoulder as she strode up the trail. It took them another ten minutes’ fast walk to get back to the abandoned buildings. It hadn’t started raining yet, but it seemed like it would any second. “Where?” Meagan asked, one hand resting on her waistband. “Inside?” “That’ll be more out of sight, yeah.” But when they went through the doorway through the old concrete wall, they found a ton of trash waiting for them. “Let’s not,” Meagan said. “I mean, yes it’s hidden, and dear god do I have to piss, but—this is not sexy.” “Agreed. Let’s try around back?” “Sure.” As they came out, however, they saw several other walkers hustling up the trail and had to wait for them to go by. Meagan clearly wanted to cross her legs or hold herself, but she stayed stock-still until the traffic passed. Then they ducked behind the building. There was still a little trash here, but more scrub bushes and last year’s fallen leaves to cover some of it. Lightning visibly flickered as they came around the corner; thunder rolled a moment later. “Pretty exposed,” Meagan said, top button undone, checking the sightlines. “But—I’ll just be quick.” A brief memory intruded: Lara at the observatory, leaning up against the wall. He shoved this aside and replaced it with the memory of Meagan pissing off of the pipe. Meagan leaned back against the concrete wall, unzipped her shorts the rest of the way, and slid them down her thighs. Then her red satin panties. She squatted and pissed—for just two seconds. To their amazement, it shot out ahead of her a couple feet: a jet of water that came and went almost too quick to be seen. “Aaaaggggh,” she said as she squeezed it off. “Better?” “Not… really. But let’s see.” She produced a tissue, dried herself off, then whipped her clothes back up and chucked the wipe aside. “I’ve never seen you piss like that before,” Parker said. “That distance.” “Must have been partly my position and partly me squeezing,” Meagan said, clenching every muscle to be sure of her control. “I never let go entirely. I was worried what would happen if I did.” “How you feeling now?” “The rest wants out. Pretty badly.” She held up a hand. “And I just felt a raindrop.” “Let’s hurry.” They walked fast up the hill, then made the turn onto the bridge. Halfway across, the rain hit. First it was a pattering of drops. Then a few more. Then a sudden burst. They could see it coming toward them for a second, and then they were caught in the downpour. “Let’s run!” Parker shouted. “Can’t! I’ll leak!” “In this rain, who’d notice?” “You would!” “Oh, right!” They didn’t run, but they walked even faster. There were only a couple seconds between the flash and the crash now. “Three blocks to go! How are you holding up?” Parker said in her ear as they passed the gas station. “This rain is not helping at all,” Meagan said. “I’m totally gonna burst.” “Let a little more out?” “I don’t want to ruin these panties.” “They’ve got to be soaked already.” “Yeah, but not with piss.” “We can throw ‘em in the wash as soon as we get home.” “Mmm… and I might not have a choice about letting a little out, actually… mmmmkay. Talked me into it.” She paused for another second. “Aaagghg. Squeezing it off is so dang hard,” she said, and started walking fast again. “Better?” “Just a touch.” They scurried the last block and at last made it under the shelter of Franklin’s porch and pillars. The house was still dark and silent when Parker unlocked the door. “We are gonna drip all over the carpet,” Meagan said. “This carpet’s terrible anyway.” “…Right. What am I saying?” He locked the door behind them. “I’m gonna go straight down to the washer,” Meagan said. “Can you run up and bring down our other laundry? Might as well get everything clean before tomorrow anyway. I’d do it,” she said with a grin and crossed legs, “but I might pop if I tried to run anywhere.” “Understood,” Parker said. His hard-on was chafing against his sodden clothes, but he hurried. It seemed Meagan had either taken a long time to get down the stairs, or she’d been stalling for him, because she was only just starting the washer as he came down with their combined laundry in a hamper. She stripped off her shirt as he got to the bottom step—and he nearly tripped. She turned her head and grinned at his sexiness-induced clumsiness, then undid her bra. He followed her example, stripping off his wet shirt, then his socks and shorts—and then his boxers, setting his erection free. “Whew,” he said. “Wet cotton on hard-on isn’t fun.” “That’s why I’m glad I was wearing satin,” she said, putting hands to her nipples—which were indeed quite hard. She squirmed a bit as she did so. He tipped the rest of the laundry into the machine as she took off her sandals and dropped her shorts and panties. She moaned a little and clutched herself a second later, then stepped out of the puddle (of both clothes and water) on the floor and picked up her panties for inspection—keeping her legs crossed as she did. “Can’t tell what’s piss and what’s rain,” she muttered, and threw them into the washer. “Hope they’re okay.” “If they’re ruined, I can get you more.” “Yeah, but they’re the ones I wore when I first got with you, y’know? They’re special. Aaah!” “Something wrong?” “Almost leaked.” He stepped closer. “Think I’d fit now?” “Mmm—not quite.” She glanced around. “Where can I let out a little more?” “Do you have to?” “Pretty sure. Relax, I’ll still be desperate for you. In more than one way. But I do want a little time with the vibrator before I take you in me, so we need to buy some minutes.” “You wanna pee down here?” “Sure, it’ll be fun.” She pointed to the floor drain. “There, d’you think?” “Might smell.” “True.” She reached into the washing machine, pulled out a shirt that was still pretty dry, and held it between her legs—again, just for a second. Then she crossed those legs, bending forward, leaning on the washer. Finally she regained control and straightened up. “Okay,” she said. “Now I think I can take you.” “Here?” he said. “Hah, we could.” She closed the washing machine lid. “This could be my vibe for today,” she said, patting the appliance. “Girls actually do that?” She grinned, leaning back against the washer on her elbows—legs still crossed, breasts thrust out. Her hair, black with wetness, clung to her shoulders. “I have, once or twice. But I don’t suppose you brought any lube, did you.” “Nope.” “Well, I’ve got some right here,” she said, tapping her groin. “Your piss?” “No, silly. Feel me.” She uncrossed her legs, and he reached between. She was indeed wet—and not from the rain. “But I don’t particularly want our last fuck in Franklin to be on top of the washing machine,” she said. “And people might come home any minute.” “Aren’t they all at parties all night?” “Yeah, and if any of those parties are outdoors…?” “Good point. Let’s get up to the room.—You know what I didn’t bring?” “Any dry clothes for us?” “Yup.” “We’ll just have to make a run for it,” she said, her eyes flashing. She stuck a hand between her legs and started up. He followed her closely, her butt and back at eye-level. Her naked hips had never been so sexy. When they reached the top of the basement steps, however, she pulled him into the big bathroom across the hallway instead of going further upstairs. She pressed herself to him, making sure he felt the flesh of her breasts against his body, and ran her fingers along his hard-on again. Here in the bathroom the rain seemed much louder. Thunder rolled again. “What are you—?” “Remember? This is where we first met,” she said. “Just wanted to point that out. Full circle. Here I am again, desperate to pee—here you are again, so very turned on…” “I wasn’t so turned on then.” “No, and I wasn’t so desperate. But aren’t you glad I had to pee that night?” “We might have met some other day…” “I know. We did meet some other day. But it was trying to figure out why we knew each other that brought us together. That’s the first time you ever made me laugh.” “Heh. Thank the God of Hedgehogs.” “We’re still on a mission from Hog,” she said, and kissed him. “Mmm.” “And,” she went on, “aren’t you glad that I have to pee right now?” “So glad.” “That I’m desperate?” “Mmmmmmm.” “Ready?” “So very, very ready.” She poked her head out of the bathroom, clutching herself again. “Coast’s clear,” she said. “Let’s go.” They ran, then: ran naked down the hall, and through the front room—in full view of the big windows, which were wide open—and up the stairs. They were laughing by the time they got to their room, laughing with the delight of being naughty and the relief of getting away with it. “Whew, that was hard,” she said, bending over for a moment. “Okay. Still under control for now.” She went to the window and opened it up. The rain was still coming down hard. She stood, naked except for her sandals, looking out at the storm. The flash of lightning flickered over her body, and a moment later the thunder rolled deep and loud. “Can’t hold it? The rain and that angle must be making it nearly impossible.” “I promised I won’t pee until you come. So I won’t.” He teased her a moment or two longer... She was shivering with the effort of holding now, but she knew what he was doing and didn’t beg. Until she did. “Hurry,” she whispered… He savored the memory a moment, then stepped up behind her, ran his hands down her body. She gave a little sigh of contentment—which turned into a small squeak of protest as he rested his hand on her bladder and gave the very slightest push. “Don’t do that unless you want me to flood the floor,” she said. “How about this instead?” he asked, sliding his fingers down to find her clit. “Yes, yes, yes…” He kissed her neck, her shoulder. “Do you want me to go down on you?” “I wish, but I don’t think I can keep my legs open that long. Fingers are good. But I really want my vibe.” He grabbed it from the bedside, stepped up behind her again. “On a low setting, please.” “God, don’t stop, but the rumbling is making it so dang hard to hold it...” The rumble of the vibrator was a quiet counterpoint to the thunder-rolls outside. They watched as cars drove by, practically leaving a wake; they watched as people scurried past, under hoods and umbrellas. Nobody looked up at their window; nobody saw them naked as he played the vibe around her clit; nobody saw them as her breathing picked up rapidly. He slid a finger into her outer lips. “You’re really wet,” he said, whispering in her ear. “Almost there,” she said. “Which is good, because I am bursting.” His erection somehow got even harder. After another few moments she laid a hand on his wrist. “That’s enough,” she said with a gasp. “If I’m gonna have you in me, I can’t wait any longer. And god do I want you in me.” “Here?” he asked. “At the window?” “Mmm, no.” She walked—staggered—over to the bed and bent over it. “From behind me?” “With pleasure.” He found the lube, slicked himself up, and— “Holy shit, I can’t get in, you’re so tight.” “That’s ‘cause you’re competing with all the pee I’ve held for you,” she said. “I’m gonna relax, just for a second. Ready?” “Ready.” He saw the tension in her muscles ease, and he quickly guided his erection into her. She gasped. “Aw, fuck,” she said—and clamped down on him, harder than he could remember. “Something wrong?” he said. “Yes and no,” she said. “I nearly pissed there. I may have leaked. But you feel amazing. And you haven’t even moved yet…” He began his stroke—gently, trying to get a feel for what she could take. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, this feels amazing, but oh my god do I gotta pee… be careful…” His pulse was hammering. He wanted to pump himself dry, he wanted to pound against the magnificence of her ass—but he went cautiously. “Holy shit, yes, yes, yes!” “Only one thing wrong,” he said. “Huh?” she gasped. “I wanna see you.” “My face, you mean?” she said, panting. “Yeah.” “I get it. I wanna see yours.” “Can we get on the bed…?” “Yeah.” “Without me pulling out?” “Don’t think so.” He pulled out, slowly—until her iron inner muscles popped him out the rest of the way. It sent shivers racing through him. “Grab a towel, please?” she said, squeezing her legs crossed. He ran and did so. She spread it on the bed. "You’ve gotta be on the bottom,” she said. “I can’t take your weight right now.” He jumped on the bed and lay back. She knelt beside him, cradling his erection in her hand. “Have you ever been this hard, I wonder?” “Not a lot.” “I love it. So much.” “You know why it’s so hard.” “I do.” She shivered. “Shit, I gotta pee so bad. But we both gotta come first.” She swung a leg over him. Stopped, grabbed her crotch. Shivered again. Tried to slide herself down onto him. "See?” he said. “Mmhmm. Okay.” She took a deep breath… relaxed a second… Piss spurted onto his chest, just a few drops—and she slid down his shaft, squeezing all the way. “That was close,” she gasped, shuddering with the effort. “Sorry I pissed on you." “Totally not a problem,” he said. She started to ride him. Still so tight. “Fuck. Aw, fuck,” she gasped. “I don’t know how much of this I can take… and I don’t want it to ever stop…” “Me too,” he whispered. She leaned forward, one hand on his chest, the other pressed hard against her crotch, trying to hold back one release while hurrying the other forward. She rode him harder. Her breath was coming faster and faster. “So amazing,” she said, panting. “It’s all so much… ahhh, god, I gotta—I gotta—I can’t—” “Can’t what?” “I’m so close…” “To what?” “I’m—” The lightning flashed, so bright it might have been across the street. In the light he saw her, bucking wildly, breasts bouncing, thighs pumping, her fingers desperately flickering over her clit or digging into his chest. Her hair was flying around her face, which was all bliss and all agony. He felt that tension mirrored in his own body. Never had he so desperately wanted to come in her. Pour himself into her, hold nothing back. Never had he so desperately wanted to wait longer. Prolong the magic. Keep the moment alive. “Love you…” he panted. “I—love—” Then she simply screamed into the thunder. The earthquake of her orgasm surrounded him. The rippling, roaring tide through her muscles somehow squeezed him tighter still. He came, came deep, came hugely, feeling like the fireworks feel as they are born and die. Her climax was still surrounding him, for she was still coming as he collapsed back onto the pillow. A moment later she collapsed onto him. As she hit him she screamed again (much less this time) and he felt her piss spurt all over his chest again. Not the flood—not yet. But it could only be another moment. She tried to say something, but couldn’t. She couldn’t manage words yet. He was shaky, overwhelmed, but he knew he could stand, and he wasn’t sure she could. He sat up, so she was sitting—still straddling him, still holding him, for somehow he was still hard. He swung his legs off the bed. She started to slide off—which would have severe consequences for his erection in a moment. He grabbed her by the butt and stood. She spurted again, and squeezed hard—with both her hand and her inner muscles. He slipped right out—but felt a second small wave of orgasm wash over him. His legs nearly buckled, climaxed-out as they were. He fell back onto the edge of the mattress. She landed on her feet, somehow. She buckled too. But with his arms around her, and his butt still on the bed, she didn’t fall. They stood swaying, leaning on each other, for a heartbeat or two. Then she spurted again. He could see her piss flowing out between her fingers. And she ran—staggered—for the bathroom. He ran after her. It was no longer spurts. It was just a slow, barely-controlled stream. It was running down her leg, leaving drops on the terrible carpet. She didn’t so much run into the bathroom as run into the doorframe and bounce off in the correct direction. The toilet was there—lid down. She ran straight past it. The shower curtain was partly closed. With her free hand she flung it all the way aside (the other was still trying and failing to dam the flood). She tried to run right into the tub, jumping over the rim. She didn’t make it—one foot cleared the rim and went into the tub, the other didn’t. If he hadn’t been right behind her, it could have been bad. He caught her as she tripped, managed to keep her from going right over. She twisted to her left and abruptly sat down, straddling the bathtub wall—and peed. It sprayed out between her fingers. It ricocheted off the tub wall and splattered upward, sideways, all over. Some went into the tub, some went on the floor. He didn’t know why he was doing it—an attempt to stem the tide, or steer it? or he just wanted to play with her gusher?—but he thrust his fingers down into the mix. Almost instinctively they found her clit. She screamed again, and a second orgasm tore through her. Unless it was simply a spasm of bliss at finally letting go. He knew enough to take his hand away quickly. She collapsed against him again. Taking her weight, he lowered himself to his knees beside the tub—kneeling right down into her puddle. One of her puddles. The thunder rolled again. A few seconds later, her stream finally tapered off. “Oh. My. Fucking. God.” “Yeah,” he agreed. “That was…” “Spectacular?” “Ridiculously fucking intense. I never want to do that again and I can’t wait to do it again…” “Maybe a little less messy next time, yeah.” “Not even that. I feel like I just died. And got resurrected. And then died again. And got resurrected again. As the Goddess of Piss Climaxes.” “I will worship you always.” She laughed, sleepily-blissfully-sexily-almost-hysterically. Cleanup took a little time. They washed themselves last, giving each other sponge baths in the bathroom, not wanting to shower in the thunderstorm raging around them. (They almost just went outside, naked as they were, to let the storm cleanse them. But it was too far to walk on their exhausted legs.) Then they laid down several towels to soak up the small pond the bathroom floor had become, and limped back into the bedroom, where they collapsed onto the bed, and made out fervently for what felt like an hour. “Thank you,” he finally said. “For everything. Absolutely everything.” “You’re welcome. And thank you. For being you.” “I think we got a happy ending,” he said. “No such thing,” she said. “Just happy middles. But sometimes…” “Sometimes you can string those middles together…” “…For a long, long time.”
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