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It was a cold and blustery Valentine's Day.  Bryce and Marie had just gotten home from a night of dinner and dancing.  They'd dressed up in their finest clothes and had a magical evening together.  Now evening had turned to night and it was time for the clothes to come off.

"Come into bed and get warm," said Marie.  The brown-skinned beauty had already taken off her formal clothes and put on the sweatshirt and sweatpants she normally wore to bed on cold nights.  The expression on her face and the tone of her voice suggested she was ready to take those off too.

"I will," said Bryce, who was standing in the bedroom almost fully dressed.  The handsome redhead had removed and hung up his navy blue suit jacket, but was still fumbling with his sky blue tie.  His hands were cold and stiff from the long walk from the car to the house and the ordeal of opening the front door.

"Just wait a moment," he added as he finally undid the tie.  Once it was put away, he went to work on his white dress shirt.  Marie couldn't believe how much trouble he was having with the buttons.  He seemed frustrated and impatient.  He was gritting his teeth and making little grunts each time he lost his grip, and his shoes were wobbling as he wiggled his toes.

"Are you all right?" Marie finally asked.

"Ye...no, actually.  I really need to use the bathroom."  He laughed nervously, and his wife smiled.

"Would you like a little help?" she asked.  She sounded to Bryce like a mother talking to a little boy.

"No, thanks," he replied with a hint of annoyance in his voice.  He was getting more nervous and urgent.  His left leg bounced, and his quick breaths could be heard across the room.

He angrily threw the shirt to the floor once he'd opened it up and pulled it out from his tightly-secured navy blue dress pants.  

His progress slowed when he tried to take off his belt.  He worked his fingers furiously, but they were more clumsy than ever.  His unease had gotten worse, too.  There were beads of sweat on his face, and it looked like there could be tears in his eyes at any moment.

"Sorry, but I think I do need your help," he told his wife in a shameful, defeated voice.  "Please," he soon added.

She got out of bed, walked up to him hastily, as if this were urgent business, but didn't start helping.  She just stood next to him and put her lips close to his ear.

"Pee," she whispered.  It was almost a breath rather than a word.

"No, I can't!" he mumbled, almost choking up.

Marie took both his hands in hers and sat on the bed in front of him.

"You'll feel better," she said in a voice that was louder but no less intimate.  "So will I," she added with a slight smile.  This came as no surprise.  Neither of them liked to come out and say it, but he knew she enjoyed seeing him relieve his bladder in inappropriate settings, and she knew he wasn't altogether comfortable with such activities.

"Yes, dear," he soon agreed.  It wasn't entirely his decision.  He was afraid he'd lose control no matter how hard he tried.  Now he had an excuse to wet himself.

Marie kept her eyes on her husband's face as the tension and discomfort melted away.  He closed his eyes, tilted his head, and parted his lips as a soft but deep sound of relief came from his throat.  It slowly built to a loud groan.

At the same time, Marie's restrained expression slowly transformed to a brilliant smile.  Her dark eyes glimmered with excitement, and many of her pure white teeth showed themselves.

Under Bryce's relieved moan, Marie could hear a soft trickling.  She looked down to see the toll his relief was taking on his clothes.  The dark blue pants didn't show much, but she could tell the shiny, wet splotch from the dull, dry fabric around it.  

The socks were just as dark, but the material showed wetness better.  Soon they'd absorbed all they could.  Every remaining drop of gold that made it down Bryce's pantlegs rolled over the shiny dress shoes and pooled on the varnished wooden floor.  It was quite a large pool.  It amazed Marie to think that all those ounces had been inside one man's bladder a moment ago.

She looked back up at her sweetheart's face.  He still looked a little nervous.  His face had been red from the cold, and now it was even redder.  Even after having several "accidents" in front of his eager wife, he still looked ashamed after each one.

"Did it feel good?" she asked.

His expression brightened.

"You know it did," he answered.  "Did it look good?"

"You know it did."  Marie hopped off the bed, taking care to avoid the giant puddle on the floor, and gave her husband a passionate kiss.  "Thanks for the show," she said when their lips were finished mingling.  Then she took his hand and led him toward the bathroom.  "We need to get you cleaned up."

She was talking like a mother again, but Bryce didn't complain this time.  In a strange way, he enjoyed it.

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