Brenman 343 Posted March 17, 2019 Popular Post Share Posted March 17, 2019 A very lucky experience that I had back in my senior year of high school: My parents divorced when I was very young, and my father had remarried a woman named Susan shortly thereafter. Susan had a daughter of her own named Cassie. Cassie and I had grown to become close friends when we very young. We were about the same age, and we spent many nights playing card games and board games together as there was not much else to do in a house for two kids with way too much energy, up til 3am every night riddled with adrenaline. Cassie was very chubby as a young girl, but I had to admit that I found her face very pretty in spite of her chubby non-figure. One incident struck me perhaps a bit more than it should have. While playing truth of dare on night, I chose dare ,and she said to me, "I dare you to kiss me!" And so, without thinking, I leaned in and obliged her silly dare. When I kissed her however, with her right hand behind my head, she pulled me in tight and made out for me for much longer than was appropriate for two people who were now ostensibly siblings (step siblings). I still to this day wonder what made her do such a sultry thing, but I think now, that as we both had just begun to enter the age of puberty, it was nothing more than hormones and natural exploration that compelled her to dare me to kiss her, and then prolong that wicked kiss, and after all, we weren't blood related right? "That was fun." was all she said afterward. As we grew older however, things between us changed. Cassie had begun to do all sorts of exercise routines in order to lose the extra weight she had been born with, and her figure had grown scandalously sexy. She never could have achieved the figure she had had she not been chubby as a young girl. I have to admit, it was her butt, her big, beautiful, behind. She had lost most of the excess weight she had been endowed with from birth, but try as she might, she couldn't get her behind small, the way she wanted it, and you must remember, this was the 80s, so pancake ass was in back in those days, long before everybody fell in love with the "thick" girls of hip-hop music videos. I however, must have been some sort of a pioneer of the "thick" (or thicc, as they spell it) fetish, for I found myself less and less comfortable as I was struggling with raging hormones and shared a house with my voluptuously built step-sister. There were a few occasions that particularly woke me up internally to the slowly rising tide of lust I was to develop for Cassie. Once, after completing a long exercise routine to one of those corny old "fitness" videos, she came into my room, completely drenched in sweat. "You stink Cassie, get out of here, go take a shower!" I said to her as she entered my room and walked up to me. (Secretly she didn't smell at all, and looked ridiculously sexy with her hard abdominal muscles expose in her tube top, her little poky nipples just barely visible beneath the fabric.) "I need to ask you a question, but please don't tell anybody about this." she said quietly. "Okay." I replied. "I'm really trying to slim down" she said. She then turned around, revealing her beautiful butt in tight, spandex shorts. My jaw dropped, my mouth watered, and dick twitched when I saw those two, globular butt cheeks pushing against the stretchy shorts material. There is a youtuber with a figure similar, Vantoee, for you to get an idea of my Cassie's fit, yet curvaceous, behind. She had sweat pooled at her crotch and up the crack of her big round butt, darkening the material in those areas, and she stood there for a moment, and I was confused suddenly. I thought she had turned around to make for the door to close it, but she just stood there. "I know it sounds weird, but I need you to tell me if my butt's getting any smaller, I think it's still too big." She then suddenly pulled down her shorts about halfway down to reveal about four inches of butt-crack, and those gloriously round butt cheeks, that beautiful ass, glistening with sweat, was exposed just enough to arouse my hunger and make me feel instantly light headed as I stared, mesmerized. "Uhhh....." escaped my mouth against my will, and I quickly pulled my sweater over my crotch to hide what I was unwillingly experiencing, a hardening cock. "What do you think?" she asked, still facing away from me. My face felt hot and flushed, I was unbelievably turned on. "Uhh yeah, it looks great." Was all I could muster, and I regretted it instantly. We had been in good relations for years, and I didn't want to somehow ruin it suddenly just because I was horny for Cassie. "Great? That's no help! Am I slimming down or not?" she asked sharply. "Yeah, you're losing weight Cassie." I said with an ever-so-slight hint of anger in my voice, as I desperately needed her to leave so that I could furiously, ashamedly, masturbate and end my aroused torture. She turned around. "Thanks I guess, Im gonna go do more." she said, and left. I took care of myself in about twenty five seconds. "This could get bad." I thought to myself. A couple more incidents took place to stir up my hormones, due to my step-sister. Once, upon just waking up, I walked into the kitchen just in my boxers and a t-shirt. My dad worked weekends at the time and he sat there, eating cereal at the kitchen counter, dressed up for work. "Morning." we said to each other. I reached into the fridge and grabbed the cranberry juice to pour myself a glass. When I shut the fridge, Cassie had entered, wearing nothing but a thin cotton t-shirt up top, nipples poking through, and tight, nearly see-through panties over her gloriously thick thighs and her tiny little pussy, just the slightest little cleft of camel toe saying hello for the morning. My father looked up and said to her sharply, "Cassie, put some clothes on, you're not a little girl anymore!" She looked surprised and annoyed, and looked over at me. "He's only in boxers!" she said defensively. "That's different." replied my father. "How?" she asked. "It just is, Cassie, now go!" he said. She turned around and waltzed quickly from the room, her fit yet fat ass waving goodbye to us, the fabric of her panties being so thin as to reveal her butt crack between those two basket-ball sized butt cheeks. I stared for a second before looking quickly to the ground, lest my father see me ogle his wife's daughter. The incident that really soiled our relationship with each other, at least temporarily, was when she was doing her exercises one day, and asked me to help her. I was supposed to hold down her feet to help her to do crunches, tightening up her already sexy, sweaty stomach. I agreed, and it started off innocently enough, but when she leaded back to the floor for her first crunch, the fabric of her tiny little shorts were pulled tightly against her womanhood, revealing the shape of two beautiful lips, as though begging for a kiss. “Oh to be those shorts upon those lips, that I might have a kiss.” I soliloquized internally to myself watching this ridiculously sexy burlesque show of the female anatomy. I was uncomfortably turned on watching her, and when she did her final crunch, breathing heavily, and tried to pull herself to her feet, she lost her balance and fell forward onto me, and the worst part was, her right hand fell, open-palmed, right onto my engorged, hard member, through my thin basket-ball shorts. Feeling it, she looked up to me and smiled a quick smile that then rapidly disappeared as she looked right into the eyes of her step-brother. A look of disgust quickly washed across her face as I blushed deeply. “Umm, okay.” she said, shaking her head, as she left the room abruptly. We didn’t speak for nearly a week after this little incident, and our relations were never the same thereafter. Cassie became a cheerleader in our high school. She was definitely one of the hotter girls of the school, and I was incredibly annoyed that even friends of mine commented on her curvaceous figure. One nerdy kid, Jim Loftman, even went so far as to capture a polaroid shot up her skirt during her cheerleading drills one day. Fortunately, I made him never to tell anybody who the picture was of, but the polaroid shot of the tight, cotton panties stretched over the bodacious bottom of the mystery girl circulated among male students of the school before a teacher confiscated it and ripped it to shreds one day. Cassie soon got a boyfriend, and there is nothing to arouse disgust (or ashamedly, lust) like the sound of your step-sister fucking in her bedroom, just next door to yours. The event that I’m about to describe to you happened on homecoming night. It was a magical decade, the 80s. Huge bouffants of teased, colored hair and skin-tight neon jeans populated and colonized the fashion sensibilities of the females of the day. Bright lipstick and face glitter facing you everywhere you went, looking like Andy Warhol pop-art renditions of once familiar faces, having you believe that with style both as vibrant and as ubiquitous as it was, the girls must have been trying to blend in, not with their background, but with each other, like a pack of zebras. Slasher movies, cocaine, bowling alleys, and REO Speedwagon’s “Keep on Loving You” set-dressed the decade, never guessing that the culture would ferment, over the succeeding years, like a sweet wine, and never like vinegar. It was homecoming night, and my step-mother decided to chaperone a little pep rally party at our house at the time. This wasn’t unexpected, Susan had become friends with many of the mothers of the neighborhood and town, and that friends of mine’s parents were friends with my own, like an odd, expanded Brady Bunch episode, joyous and agreeable. The event had started at about 6 o’clock that evening, and multiple families had gathered at our house for finger sandwiches and even a few apple-tinis, getting inebriated and rallied-up for the return of the home team of our little New England town. Mrs. Clarkson had showed up, eager to help my stepmom with the errands and chores. Mrs. Clarkson was a long time family friend of ours, was the mother of one of Cassie’s friends Emily, and perhaps in some way most importantly, was also one of our (Cassie and I’s) teachers. Mrs. Clarkson taught chemistry, and was exceptional at teaching her subject. She was also a real health-nut, and was incredibly fit. I had known her for years for the connection she shared with my mother, and knew her once as Lisa, but when I had made the mistake once of calling her Lisa in class, she politely but adamantly informed me, in front of the rest of the class mates, “You’ll call me Mrs. Clarkson, Alex.” And since then, I had stuck to calling her by the preferred name, Mrs. Clarkson, inside and outside of class. Maybe it was because I’d known her since I was a small child, or maybe it was because she was currently a teacher of mine at the time, and a wholesome teacher deeply and passionately involved with the state of affairs of education, going so far as to consistently try to rally support for the teacher’s union, but for whatever reason, I had never seen, or thought, of her as being very attractive. She was a slim woman with a pretty face for sure, but I think I had some sort of a mental block against her for how I conceptualized her in my mind, as exactly the sort of patriotic, all-American figure who would almost certainly frown upon certain favored vices and pastimes of mine, like smoking copious amounts of marijuana, the way I had taken to in those days. Tonight was different, however, Mrs. Clarkson, later explaining that it was the only skirt she had had in red, the school’s color, had shown up wearing a skirt that in school may have been just a little bit too tight short and a little bit too tight for academia to deem appropriate, and looking her up and down, it was almost surreal just how subtly erotic Mrs. Clarkson suddenly appeared. She wore high-heels, elevating her ass gracefully like a ballerina standing on tippy-toes, and her legs were long, tan, and taught, rock hard calves, tight, muscular thighs, exposed up to just a couple of of inches beneath her beautifully rounded behind, taught and muscular from hours of stair-master routines and squat weight-lifting. Her skirt was short to be sure, but was also incredibly tight, painted on her like a second skin. It was so tight in fact that you could clearly, too clearly, see the pushed out outline of her panties beneath, a beautifully articulated triangle squeezing her beautifully round, taught behind. I gazed at her from afar, down the hallway from my room, and wondered for a moment if she only appeared as mysteriously, unexpectedly, sexy to me because I was so stoned. I had just smoked a joint beside my open bedroom window, and now, in my cannabis induced paranoia, feared that my lust may appear to be just a little bit too obvious as I gazed at the bright red skirt enveloping her derrière, and being stoned, I took joy in the way the red plastic party cups she carried matched the color of her vibrant red skirt. She looked cinematic, Mrs. Clarkson did, in much the same way as Mrs. Robinson from The Graduate did. “What a Fox”, I thought to myself. It wasn’t only me apparently, as just as Mrs. Clarkson walked into the kitchen, the half-drunk mothers instantly erupted with comments and whooping applause. “What a skirt!” I heard one woman say. “Are you joining the cheerleaders tonight Lisa?! With that skirt you ought to be the cheer captain!” Another woman said. “I don’t see a skirt! All I see is legs!” My stepmother Susan said. “What exercises do you do? I hate to say it girl, but your butt looks fantastic!” My stepmom’s drunk friend Kelly uttered. “There’s something it reminds me of!” She said. The women paused awkwardly before laughing uproariously together at this shared moment of drunken gaiety. I decided, eventually, in the ironic way that makes sense only when you’re high, to make my presence known, thinking that if I did so, nobody would suspect that I was high. I strolled into the kitchen, and as I did so, the women all turned and greeted me joyously. The next couple of hours proceeded with me hanging out with my stepmom’s friends, helping out with the casseroles and finger sandwiches and generally having a good time. The women drank cocktails and iced tea. I was fortunate enough to have a couple of apple-tinis myself, imbibing the intoxicating liquid happily as I relaxed into the atmosphere more and more. “We won’t tell anyone you’re not 21.” one of the women, my stepmom’s friend Kelly, said, before they all laughed simultaneously. In the way that alcohol seems to blur the imagery around just slightly, like watercolor painting, more and more I became aware that one thing stuck out consistently in the kitchen panorama around me. It was Mrs. Clarkson’s long, gorgeously toned legs and her cheeky, bright-red skirted butt. Her ass was just sumptuously sexy as it waved around in the air, elevated by her clacking high heels just above my crotch level as she pranced around the kitchen performing chores in preparation for homecoming night. This was the most of Mrs. Clarkson’s legs I would probably ever see, I thought. She had also grown warm, and had at point removed her sweater, exposing her round, swan-like shoulders. The cocktails relaxed us and the iced tea invigorated us with it’s caffeine, and it was all around a good time for everyone. At one point, Mrs. Clarkson was hopping ever-so-slightly, trying to reach a glass on a high shelf, and as she did so, her beautiful butt bounced and jiggled in her tight skirt, oh-so delicately. She truly appeared to be a ballerina of a woman, with her gorgeous, slim figure painted in her form-fitting outfit. “Here Mrs. Clarkson,” I said, as without thinking, I quickly reached out and grabbed her by the waist to lift her up high enough to reach the glass, and immediately regretted this action as I performed it, for even while having the best intentions as I did, it was incredibly inappropriate for me to lay my hands onto a woman’s body, and my teacher’s no less! Her waist was so soft, yet so thin, her abdomens taught from working out, and as I set her back down to the floor, her blouse rode up, revealing her beautiful midriff, belly-button exposed. I blushed hard as I set her down, feeling mortified, but nobody seemed to notice, and Mrs. Clarkson only turned to me, smiling benignantly, as she said, “You can call me Lisa tonight, Alex.” “I know what you’re butt reminds me of!” Shouted Kelly suddenly. “It’s like a Valentine’s Day card!” Everyone laughed. “It is! It’s so bright and red with that skirt, and so heart-shaped at the same time!” Kelly exclaimed loudly. “Kelly’s trying to say she finds your gorgeous ass romantic, Lisa!” Debbie said drunkenly. “You just called it gorgeous!” Said Kelly. “Well it is, but I didn’t call it a Valentine’s Day heart!” Replied Debbie. “Her butt is heart shaped! Well it is! Narrow thighs expanding into two round little melon-shaped butt cheeks on top! And with that red skirt, it does look very Valentine’s Dayish! Okay?! Turn around! Let us see it again, Lisa!” Shouted Kelly. Still a little stoned, I was amused at the irony of the way these women could shout things out that men could only narrate to themselves quietly inside our heads. Mrs. Clarkson suddenly, and unexpectedly, turned around, bent at the waist, and arched her back, displaying her gorgeous derrière for all of us as though it were a delicate piece of jewelry she were showing off. The women cheered, and Mrs. Clarkson even waved her butt side to side playfully, she must have been proud of her figure and appreciated this opportunity to show off the hard-won results of her workout regimen. I could only stare, slack jawed, at my teacher’s sexy display, and I stared prolongedly, feeling entitled somehow because she, after all, had decided to show off. Man, alcohol goes a long way, I thought to myself. “See? A perfect shaped heart!” Said Kelly, the ice cubes in her iced tea jingling. One of the women threw a dollar bill in Mrs. Clarkson’s direction as a joke, and she then turned around, and seeing me, she blushed a deep red, her cheeks nearly matching the color of her skirt, also ironically concealing her other cheeks. “Okay, would you guys stop it! There’s a student of mine right here!” She said, glancing quickly at me, still blushing. “Okay but you’ve gotta show me your workout routine sometime!” My stepmother said. “Deal.” Replied Mrs. Clarkson quietly. Just then, the doorbell rang, and everybody looked up. “That must be the Richardson’s! They’re new to town and are supposed to follow us to the school the back way!” My stepmom said. “They don’t know the back roads in this area and I told them I’d show them around a little bit.” She then turned to me. “Alex, would you go and check to see if your sister is nearly ready to go?” “Sure.” I said, and left the kitchen to go and see what Cassie was up to. The alcohol and the iced tea had gotten to me by that point, and I actually needed to pee quite badly. I also had developed a shameful, painful erection what with Mrs. Clarkson’s sexy antics in the kitchen. What a night, I thought to myself as I proceeded down the hallway. I turned into the hallway bathroom, and as I did so I was abruptly greeted with the sight of another unbelievably sexy vision. My stepsister was already in her cute little red cheerleader’s outfit, and was busy meticulously applying makeup to her already pretty face. Her face was only inches from it’s reflection in the mirror; she often liked to get very close to the mirror when she did her makeup, being the perfectionist that she was. But this bathroom had a sink counter that jutted out nearly 3 feet from the wall, forcing Cassie to stand straight legged and bend over hard at the waist in order for her to get her face so close to the mirror, touching up her eye lashes, and this action had the result of her forcing her big, beautiful, butt out behind her, much like Mrs. Clarkson’s sexy display. And because she was in her cheerleader’s outfit, her short, frilly, little skirt did nothing to hide her big shapely ass. My stepsister’s big, round, watermelon-sized behind was fully exposed beneath her high-ridden skirt, the cotton material of her panties being so thin as to reveal the perfectly vertical line separating her two big beautiful butt cheeks. It was like a porn-star pose, the way my sister was bent over in front of the mirror, and after a moment I noticed that she was also shifting her weight back and forth between her legs, and her thighs were trembling slightly. It definitely looked like she needed to pee urgently, and had most likely put it off for too long, engrossed with the process of her makeup. I quickly cleared my throat at the sight before me. Hearing me, my sister looked up in the mirror and spotted me. She smiled. “Is it time to go?” She asked. “Yeah just about” I answered as I made my way past her to the toilet, which had a waist-high dividing wall blocking my lower half from her view. “I have to pee, Cassie” I said as I unzipped my fly behind the waist-high dividing wall. “Do you wanna get out now?” “Just go, it’s not like I’m going to look, I’m busy here.” She said, still bent over, doing her makeup, her legs now stepping from foot to foot quickly. In a moment, I started pissing a loud, hard stream against the water in the toilet bowl, and at once, I heard a loud clacking sound and looked over to see that my stepsister had thrown down her plastic little makeup case, and had immediately, frantically reached down with her right hand to squeeze her crotch tightly through the panties beneath her skirt. “Ow!” She exclaimed having hit her hand on the counter as she had reached down. I continued to piss hard into the water. “Oh my godddddd, Alex” she said, her voice sounding guttural and strained. “What is it Cassie?” I said, looking over at her. She had stopped doing her makeup entirely now, and was standing upright, her right hand glued to her crotch, squeezing tightly, stepping briskly from foot to foot, her face looking extravagantly beautiful in her makeup, but at the same time looking highly distressed, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth hanging open, obviously desperate to relieve herself. She opened her eyes and looked into mine longingly for a moment, her cheeks flushed. “What are you doing, Cassie?” I asked, a little embarrassed for her. “Nothing, I have to pee too, okay, would you hurry up?” She asked with a pleading tone in her voice as she bounced up and down a little. “I can try.” I said. She laughed at this. Then exclaimed, “Oh god, I can’t laugh, or I’ll have an accident.” “Way too much information, sis.” I said. “I know, I’m sorry.” She said, looking away from me, back to the mirror. “Guys we need to go!” Susan yelled to us down the hall loudly. “Okay!!!” Cassie yelled back. “I’ll use the bathroom at the school, come on let’s go now.” Cassie said to me briskly. “I’ll meet you out there.” I said. I finished up, my cock still a little hard at the sight of my stepsister’s sexy little pee dance, and made my way down the hall and out to the car, my stepmom locking the front door behind me. It was extremely cold out, winter having come early that year, and ice lined our driveway. I patted my jacket and smiled as I remembered I had a few more joints and a lighter in my jacket pocket. When I approached the car, I heard Mrs. Clarkson ask, “You think I have time to run back in and nip into the bathroom, Susan? I could really use a quick break.” She said with a quiet, reserved voice. “Yeah I need to piss pretty badly, Susan.” Debbie proclaimed with less reservation in her voice. “Oh my god, don’t even get me started.” My stepsister said. “I already locked the door, come on, let’s just go, you guys can use the bathroom at the school.” My stepmom replied. I climbed into the backseat, next to Cassie in the middle and Mrs. Clarkson at the passenger side. My stepmom electing to drive, with Debbie beside her in the front passenger seat. The other women traveled in a different vehicle. The drive went smoothly, with casual conversation. Cassie’s thick thighs jiggled constantly and frantically beside me, exposed about halfway up in her cheerleader’s skirt, but she made no verbal mention of her bladder’s need to evacuate it’s contents in spite of her frantic squirming. Mrs. Clarkson’s muscular, toned, legs squirmed and bounced a little bit too, in her also very short skirt, that infamous, bright-red skirt. We were at the school in about twenty minutes, and we all made our way into the gymnasium. I sat down at the bleachers. “Show me to the bathroom, Lisa.” Debbie said to Mrs. Clarkson, and they both made there way out of the gymnasium and down the hallway. Cassie quickly greeted her fellow cheerleaders and told them she’d be right back, but that she quickly needed to pee. “Yeah, good luck with that, Mr. Roberts locked the bathroom when he left earlier, I guess the idiot forgot that it was homecoming.” Said Sally to my sister. I always found Sally cute. She was a good cheerleader and a good student, with a pretty face, short, dark hair, thick-rimmed glasses, and a petite little figure. Years later, I discovered an actress that looked almost identical to her, Lucy Hale. Sally was a bit of a goody two-shoes, and a bookworm as well. Over the years I had developed a bit of a crush on her that I told no one about, just gazed at her occasionally in the hall, or in the few classes we shared together. “What? That’s impossible.” Cassie replied. “No it’s not, believe me I tried.” Sally replied. Looking down, I noticed that Sally’s legs were crossed, and she was bobbing at the knees, the tell-tale signs of a girl with an urgent need to urinate. “What the fuck is with the bathrooms being locked?” Debbie was saying loudly and angrily as she and Mrs. Clarkson made their way back to us. “The idiot janitor locked the doors, forgetting it was fucking homecoming!” Cassie replied. “What the fuck?!” Said Debbie. My stepmom shushed her. “Language, Debbie, we’re at the school now.” My stepmom said. We all sat down, Mrs. Clarkson sitting directly beside me, Debbie beside her, and my stepmom on my other side. The cheerleaders began performing their drills and tricks to entertain the audience before the competing teams arrived. Mrs. Clarkson’s shapely legs bounced frantically beside me, and every time she stood up to applaud the girls, I got a facefull of that bright-red heart-shaped ass, squeezed tight in her little skirt. Cassie and the other girls performed their cheers and drills beautifully, and the audience loved it, I couldn’t help but notice that many times, her face looked a bit worried, but she kept a forced smile upon her face at all times, regardless of the fact that she kept her legs crossed tightly between each different drill the girls performed. Sally, my crush, looked far less confident, her pretty, innocent face looking extremely anxious the whole time as if she were screaming to herself internally, “please don’t wet yourself, please don’t wet yourself, please don’t wet yourself...” over and over again, and between each drill, she turned away from the audience, and I, paying attention to her, observed that she had taken to holding herself between each drill. I decided to go to the locker room and check in with the team, given that I was friends with some of the players and even Coach Jenkins. I stood up, and made to exit the bleacher pew to the aisle to go out to the locker room. “Where are you going? Is there another bathroom?” Debbie asked, grabbing my arm as I passed by. “The men’s locker room, I’m going to see some friends of mine.” I said, looking down at Debbie’s bouncing thighs, her pleading, desperate eyes, this woman who was my mother’s age, reduced to squirming around like a little girl.. Feeling sympathy, I sighed and told her, “Come with me, I’m sure Coach Jenkins won’t mind if you used the toilet in the men’s locker room.” “You absolutely cannot! You’re going to go in front of a bunch of high school boys Debbie? What’s the matter with you?” Asked Mrs. Clarkson sharply. “Well I’ll use the stall Lisa, Jesus.” Debbie said with annoyance clearly audible in her voice as she stood up to follow me. “Yes but they’ll all see your feet and... well you know... hear you.” Mrs. Clarkson Said. I wondered if she had thought through this option too and had decided that it was just too embarrassing, just too exposed, for her. “Lisa, at this point the little fuckers can watch me piss in the sink. I’ve gotta go.” Debbie said. She pushed me on the arm urgently. “Let’s go, Alex.” She said We moved down the bleacher. “She didn’t just say that.” I heard Mrs. Clarkson Said to my mom as we walked away. “And in a school!” Debbie and I made our way out of the gymnasium and down the long hallway to the men’s locker room. Debbie’s breaths were panicked and shakey sounding and her steps were quick, her jeans making quick, swishing noises as she walked. “Fuck, I’m sorry I snapped at Lisa, Alex, but I’m breaking my neck for a piss here.” She said to me as we walked quickly down the hallway. Looking over at her, I saw that she had her left hand buried in her crotch. She blushed when she saw me looking at her and said, “Eyes forward, Alex.” When we finally reached the locker room, Coach Jenkins was standing in the doorway, the guys in their basketball uniforms standing just inside, talking. “Well this sucks.” I heard one of them say. Debbie removed her hand from her crotch and walked right up to Coach Jenkins. “Excuse me” she said nudging past him, but he stopped her. “You can’t come in here miss.” He said.”that’s game rules, that goes for you too” he said to me. “Besides this is a men’s locker room, honey” he said to Debbie. “Sir, you don’t understand how badly I need to pee. I’ve had a lot of drinks and now I really must go to the bathroom.” She said with a shakey voice. All the guys stared right at Debbie, hearing this. “I’m afraid I can’t let you in here miss, the rules are clear.” He said, adamantly. “Please sir, my piss is going to be clear” she said suddenly, as she bent at the knees and squeezed her crotch. (Debbie often had a habit of making rude jokes, no matter the audience). Coach Jenkins didn’t find her comment very funny, and looking her up and down, this grown woman holding herself like a little girl, he said back, “You’re not coming into this locker room miss!” He said as he blocked the doorway with his body. “Please sir, I beg you to let me use the toilet”. Debbie pleaded, bent over, squeezing her crotch hard, her legs bent at the knees. “Let the milf have a piss, Coach.” Exclaimed one of the players. “Who said that?!” Coach Jenkins asked angrily, looking back at the player. Nobody responded, and he let it go, looking back at Debbie. “Rules are rules.” He said. “Oh my god!” She exclaimed, and made her way back down the hall to the gymnasium quickly. Coach Jenkins and the guys watched her blue jeans clad butt as she walked away. I felt terrible for Debbie, having to beg and plead for the toilet like a little girl and being cruelly denied the privilege. I turned back to the locker room, feeling slightly angry at Coach Jenkins who stepped back inside the locker room to the back somewhere, shaking his head. I motioned my friend Brett over. “Game’s been postponed to another day man. One of the other teams players got food poisoning and they don’t want to play without him” Brett said. “Really?” I asked. “Yeah man. Coach Jenkins is gonna go announce it over the intercom.” Brett said. I pulled out a joint from my pocket. “You wanna come smoke with me in that case?” I asked. “Nah you go ahead, we gotta change and get outta here.” Brett replied. We said goodbye to each other and I made my way out the hallway exit, out into the freezing cold night. I went to hide behind s dumpster to smoke, marijuana still being highly illegal in those days. The dumpster was surrounded with a sheet of ice, evidently frozen water that had leaked from the dumpster somehow. I lit up my joint and took a couple puffs. Before long, I was completely stoned again, dreamily watching as my little clouds of smoke made their way upwards towards the night sky’s constellations. Suddenly, I heard quick footsteps moving towards the dumpster, and quickly crouched down and froze, peeking out, paranoid. Around the dumpster came Sally, moving briskly in her cheerleader’s outfit. “What the hell is this?” I thought to myself. Sally looked supremely cute and innocent in her little red uniform and thick rimmed glasses, this little Lucy Hale look-alike. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god...” she was saying, as without even seeing me at all or smelling the joint I had snubbed out against the ice, she quickly, with lightning speed, squatted down to the ground, pulling her panties to the side of her little pussy as she suddenly issued a fire-hose-like torrent of urine that shot, with incredible force, three feet out in front of her onto the ice on the ground. “Huuuuuhhhhhhhhhuuuuhhhhhhuuuuuhhhhh......” she whimpered, sounding as though shewas nearly crying with the relief. She moaned prolongedly as her pussy shot forth a hard, hissing stream onto the ice in front of her, huge clouds of steam rising from he point of impact between the ice and Sally’s urine. “Fuuuuckkkkkk.....godddddddd......Sally proclaimed as she continued to piss with unbelievable force onto the ice, literally four feet away from me. I couldn’t believe my eyes, here was my innocent, sweet crush, the petite, bespectacled, bookworm beauty, in her cheerleader’s outfit, squatting with her cute little butt hovering above the ground, her legs spread in a wonderfully lewd posture, pissing out a torrent, moaning with her desperate relief. Her eyes were shut, her head leaned back, and her mouth hanging open as she pissed and pissed away, like 55 seconds in now. I looked down at her pussy. It was tiny, fit for a petite girl like her, and looked ridiculously tight. My cock was straining against my pants of course, and I tried not to breathe, lest she hear me, as she finally finished up her deed and stood up, before walking back towards the gym. I heard people’s voices now and figured the announcement of the postponement of the game must have been made now and we would all be going back home. I stood up and walked over to Sally’s puddle. I couldn’t believe it, Sally had melted a hole in the ice about three feet in diameter, still steaming. Big bladder capacity for such a petite female. I guess she really had to go, I thought to myself. I walked back to the gym where the cars and voices were audible. “Alex! Over here!” I heard. Looking over, I saw my stepmom motioning to me outside her car. When I got to the car however, Michelle Richardson, another friend of my mother’s, had taken the front seat, apparently needing a ride home as her husband had to leave early for unexplained reasons. She lived near us, so this made sense, but I wondered how we were all to fit now, as the backseat now contained Debbie, Mrs. Clarkson, and Cassie, all of whom were squirming around frantically, thighs bouncing up and down in the backseat. Cassie quickly jumped out. “Get in Alex, you’re sister has to sit on your lap.” Susan said. I did as I was told, I got in the car. Cassie quickly sat down on top of me, and I shuddered at the sexy sight of Cassie’s globular buttcheeks settling down right on crotch. Her cheerleading skirt was pushed up when she sat down, and her thin-pantied bottom sat down hard on my still hard cock. Fearing she might feel my erection, I immediately pushed her forward onto my left leg, and she stayed there, pushing her womanhood hard against my knee. My jeans had a rip down the front of the left pant leg, and my skin was exposed there. We took off, my stepmom driving. “They really ought to have had the facilities available” said Mrs. Clarkson. “That was completely ridiculous! It’s a home sports game, and no audience member could use the bathroom?! I’ll have you all know I’m filing a complaint with the school about this tomorrow.” Cassie had taken to pressing her pussy, as hard as she could, right onto my hard, kneecap, and it occurred to me suddenly that she was using my knee to hold herself. She was even subtly rocking herself backwards and forwards on my knee, unable to sit still. She wasn’t the only one, however, as just to the side of me, Mrs. Clarkson and Debbie were frantically bouncing their thighs up and down now and were breathing frantic, short breaths, almost as if they were practicing CPR breathing exercises. “I was so close to peeing in the locker room toilet. But that fucking coach!” Shouted Debbie angrily. My stepmom and Michelle could only look to each other in the front seat, then look back out to the road before them as they drove on. “Can you please try to drive faster, mom?” Cassie pleaded after about five minutes into the drive. Her rocking motion on my knee had grown in it’s range and intensity, like a girl on a see-saw. Debbie squeezed her crotch with both hands, her jeans making their shwishing sounds with the frantic movement of her legs, and Mrs. Clarkson meanwhile was breathing heavily, frustratedly trying to press her right hand into her crotch, to no avail because the tight material of her skirt wouldn’t allow her to with any real effect or pressure. “I’m sorry, but I have to do this.” Mrs. Clarkson said, to no one in particular as she suddenly lifted herself from her seat, and quickly pulled her skirt up to her waist so that she could press a hand against her crotch, and I was wrong earlier, this was the most of Mrs. Clarkson’s legs I would ever see. Her taught thighs went all the way up, and the left side her tight, round ass rubbed against the side of my right thigh as she squirmed in her seat. She looked incredibly fit and sexy, her bottom being barely covered by lacy, black thong underwear. Two fingers of her right hand were making frantic, circular motions over her black, thong-clad pussy, trying desperately to keep the floodgates from breaking. Debbie’s shwishing sounds grew noisier, her legs looking as if they were going to start a fire with the friction of their movement. “Aaghhhhh...I have to peeeeeeee...” she exclaimed in a strained voice. I was unbelievably, uncomfortably, almost torturously turned on due to the circumstances, three grown women, two of them milfs, one a teacher! And one my voluptuous stepsister, all simply dying to pee, struggling to hang on. “Please mom, drive faster.” Cassie exclaimed again. “I’m going as fast as I can! You three need to calm down!” My stepmom shouted back. “I can’t calm down until I peeeeeeee.......” Debbie said, sounding as though she were going to cry. My sister was now rocking her pussy on my knee as though it were some sort of mechanical bull ride, and it was amazing how with just a thin layer of cotton between her pussy lips and me knee, I could clearly feel two distinctly separate, vertical lips rubbing themselves hard against my exposed flesh, as though trying to kiss me with them. I shifted my position, just to see how Cassie would react. She lost her balance, and turned back to me with pleading eyes. “Please, I need your knee.” She said to me as she readjusted her body weight so that her pussy was pressed firmly against me knee. She rocked her pussy backwards and forwards hard against the top of my knee, and I nearly fainted with the sight of my sexy sister’s fat ass as her muscles clenched and released on my left leg. “What do you mean you need my knee?” My stepmom asked, confused. “Not your knee, Alex’s knee!” Cassie exclaimed in a desperate voice. She was now letting out guttural, moaning noises as she rocked back and forth, seemingly riding the mechanical bull ride for all she was worth. “Uuhhhhuhhhhuuuhhh....” she uttered, as her big butt rocked to and fro, her pussy pressed as tightly as possible to me hard knee. I felt the desperate need to cum, and end my prolonged torture, I was so unbelievably, unbearablely turned on, thanking god my boner the as in a relatively comfortable position in my pants. “Well what do you mean you need your brother’s knee?! What does that mean, Cassie?!” My stepmom asked. “Mom! Do I have to spell it out for you?! I’m pressing my vagina against Alex’s knee so I don’t wet myself! Okay?!” Cassie snapped angrily. “You watch your tone and your words young lady!” Susan snapped back. Susan looked back at us now, and seeing Mrs. Clarkson with her skirt hoisted up around her waist, her fingers circling her pussy frantically, looking like she was frigging herself, my stepmom snapped at her next. “Could you stop touching yourself in front of my kids, Lisa?! Jesus!” Mrs. Clarkson just continued. “I can’t stop or I’ll have an accident, Susan, I’m so sorryyyyyyyy...” she cried, still circling her pussy through her thong underwear. I felt a very wet crotch meanwhile on my knee, my sister seeming to slowly begin to lose the battle now. “How much longer Susan?!” Cried out Debbie. “We’re almost there. I’ll try to drive faster. Hold on girls.” My stepmom said as she floored the gas from a complete stop at a stop sign. This had the result of flinging my sister backwards onto my lap and I had to stifle a moan of lust as I watched, seemingly in slow motion as Cassie’s big, shapely ass landed in my lap, nestling my cock between the cheeks. With the pressure of my knee now, Cassie shrieked a brief, shrill shriek as her pussy issued a one-second-long spurt of piss onto my lap, before her hand quickly shot to her crotch, squeezing it tightly. Her urine was hot, and felt quite nice, but you could smell the aroma slightly now in the car. “Please don’t wet yourself ladies.” My stepmom said aloud. “Just drive mom.” Cassie said forcefully, as she positioned her womanhood upon my knee once more, the thin, wet cotton fabric clinging to her anatomy now, feeling as if her bare pussy was directly touching the skin of my knee. Mrs. Clarkson had taken to moaning aloud now, a strained, desperate moan, and Debbie just sped up the motion of her fire-starting, frantically rubbing thighs. Finally we pulled into the driveway, immediately, the doors flew open. My dad’s truck was now parked in the long driveway along with a few other cars, so we could only park at the very end. “Who the fuck is parked here?!” Exclaimed my stepmom. Cassie ran ahead, her cheerleader’s skirt flying up behind her, and made it to the front door first, running in place at the doorstep knocking on the door as hard as she could without stopping, as the door was apparently locked. I followed just behind her, Susan and Michelle a little ways behind me, and Debbie and Mrs. Clarkson hobbling with short, frantic steps, bringing up the caboose of our little train of people. My dad answered the door, looking thoroughly confused. “How is the game already over?” He asked as Cassie rushed inside past him just ten feet or so before the rest of us. My dad’s dumb friends cheered as Cassie ran through the foyer to the guest bathroom in the front hallway. “Hey Rob! The strippers are here!” One one my dad’s drunken work friends yelled down the hall. “No no guys, that’s Cassie.” My dad said, but not getting it, his work buddies just cheered on, “Well I like Cassie! Cassie the cheerleader, huh? Wow, look at that ASS!” Cassie was meanwhile struggling with another problem. My dad’s work buddies had left their bags/suitcases in the guest bathroom, apparently not having realized how this might cause a problem, and these bags were entirely blocking the door from shutting. Cassie quickly gave up trying to shut the door and tore down her panties and lifted up her skirt in one flurried motion as she slammed her big ass down onto the toilet. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH...........” Cassie cried as a Niagara-Falls-like torrent of urine erupted from her exposed pussy with volcanic pressure. The door was wide open, as were her legs, and her bare, shaved pussy was on display for the world to see as she sat there, eyes closed, moaning orgasmically as she pissed and pissed and pissed. It was an incredibly erotic show, and I couldn’t believe my eyes, or my cock, threatening to tear through my pants. “We’re not blood related.” I had to remind myself, feeling ashamed at the ferocity of my lust for Cassie. This is as the first time I had ever seen her naked, 18-year-old pussy, and my face felt hot and flushed with animalistic lust, and at the same time deep, sympathetic shame, watching these old horn dogs just take in the show, many of them holding canned beers as they watched Cassie on the toilet. Some of the guys just watched her in awe, until, opening her eyes, she quickly positioned her hands in front of herself, blocking her pussy, looking feint-headed as she continue to piss hard and loud into the toilet bowl, her largely wet cotton panties down at her ankles. “Please don’t look.” She begged the onlookers with a whimper, before continuing to sigh passionately with relief. “Ohhhhhhhhhhhh my godddddddddddd I needed thissss...” she moaned loudly, tilting her head back, closing her eyes. My stepmom then stormed into the house looking furious. Michelle just stood there, wide-eyed, not knowing what to do. “What the fuck is this John?!” She yelled at my dad. “I’m having a little bachelor’s party for Rob. He’s getting married. I thought you guys would be at the game all night. What happened?” My dad responded. “It was postponed!” Susan yelled as she stepped in front of the bathroom doorway to block Cassie. “Look away or I call the cops! This is my fucking daughter you sick pervs!” She yelled angrily. The guys understood the situation now and walked away towards the kitchen. “Debbie and Lisa are next, who’s shit is this?!” She yelled, looking down at the bags and brief cases blocking the bathroom door from shutting. “It theirs honey, we’re really sorry, we certainly didn’t see this coming!” Said my dad defensively. Debbie and Mrs. Clarkson hobbled in next, hands glued to their crotches, Mrs. Clarkson’s skirt still hoisted up around her waist, and her fit, taut, butt cheeks jiggled in their sexy black thong as she hobbled frantically in high heels through the house. “Ive got dibs on the other bathroom!” Debbie yelled in pain as she ran down the hall towards the other bathroom. “Umm, Rob’s in there, and I think he’s going to be a while.” My dad said sheepishly, taking in the whole scene, trying to keep his eyes off of Mrs. Clarkson’s fit, round ass as she stepped frantically from foot to foot, waiting for Cassie to finish peeing, tortured with the still steady sound of Cassie’s stream hitting the water below. “Oh please hurry Cassie.” She pleaded desperately, her heels clacking loudly on the tile floor as she stepped from foot to foot. “I can’t wait any fucking longer!” Yelled Debbie. “Go out to the backyard! No one will see you back there Debbie!” My stepmom suggested quickly. I stepped into the kitchen motioning Debbie to follow me, pointing at the back door. Debbie ran to the back door in the kitchen, where all the guys were, but found it locked and frantically fiddled with the lock for a few seconds, her other hand still squeezing her crotch tightly. Put of the corner of her eye, she spotted my mother’s potted plant in the corner of the kitchen. “OH FUCK IT!!!!!!” Debbie yelled, before ripping down her jeans and squatting quickly over the potted plant, releasing a highly pressurized, hard stream over the the plant, the soil frothing up due to the pressure of the stream. Her face still looked in pain as she uttered a tortured, “OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH MYYYYYYYYY GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDD........ AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH... OH FUCK YESSSSSSSSSSSS....” the guys watched as she pissed and pissed, feeling more secure watching a grown woman. Debbie opened her eyes to a group of men and a mortified looking Susan. “I’m so sorry Susan, but I’m afraid I might drown your plant. I’m really sorry, but honey you have no idea how gooooood this feeeeeels, ooohhhhhhhhhhhhh........” Debbie continued to moan. My stepmom stepped back out of the kitchen to continue yelling at me dad and I followed her. When I stepped back out in the hallway, I nearly tripped over our car. Cassie was still dribbling into the toilet, and my parents were already fighting again when Mrs. Clarkson stepped up to me frantically, her underwear still on display, and clutched my arm tightly. “I need you to take me to the laundry room, where is it?” She asked me in quick, hushed tones. “Why?” I asked. “Your cat must have a little box, right?” The desperation was screaming in her eyes and her hand once again reached down to clutch her crotch. (This lady was my fucking teacher?!) “Are you seriou...” “Listen Alex, I don’t want to expose myself in an open door bathroom or squat over a god forsaken house plant okay?” She said all of this quietly, under her breath, trying not to let my parents, or the others hear. She bounced on the spot, stepping from foot to foot. “Look, show me the fucking litter box and I’ll let you watch me pee, you little shit!” She whispered forcefully. “Better to watch a grown woman then getting a hard-on for your fucking sister. What, you think I haven’t noticed you watching her ass all night you little perv? And mine too for that matter, you need to work on your subtlety skills.” I felt deeply ashamed and embarrassed. “Oh please Alex, I’m starting to leak.” She whispered and her face looked like she was going to cry. “Follow me Lisa”. I said as I led her down the hall to the laundry room. She followed behind as fast as she could, heels clacking loudly. When we reached the laundry room, she told me to “shut the door and let nobody in”, as she quickly squatted down over the kitty litter, not even taking the time to pull down her underwear, just pulling it to the side of her pussy as she issued the third in a row fire-hose pressured torrent of urine straight into the litter box below. “Oooooohhhhhhh yessssssss, oh goddddd yessssssss yessssssssss yesssssssssss......aaaaaahhhhhhhhh” Even in her moaning, she tried to keep her voice down, but her face looked almost as if she were having an orgasm. She looked so sexy, squatting there, her landing-strip trimmed pussy on display, and I could bear the lust no longer. I stepped on the other side of the washing machine, so that she couldn’t see me below my torso, though she knew full well what I desperately needed to do. She nodded sympathetically at me, and I unzipped my pants and stroked my self lightly. I had barely touched myself, before my knees buckled as I shot my load at the laundry machine just before me, moaning with the pleasure, I just couldn’t take it any longer. Mrs. Clarkson just closed her eyes and breathed heavily as she finished peeing forcefully into the litter box below her. When we emerged from the laundry room, Cassie, humiliated, had taken to her room, and there was now an entirely different situation to be dealt with, Debbie, in her peeing pleasure, had apparently then taken to rubbing herself to an orgasm, much to the pleasure of the onlooking guys. Susan and Debbie were now fighting over this. “I had to Susan! you know I have sexual hang-ups! Guys haven’t looked at me with as much desire as these guys did tonight in ages! I’m sorry, but this was the first orgasm I’ve had in weeks Susan! Have some empathy!” Debbie pleaded to my stepmom. “Jesus Christ Debbie! You and I aren’t drinking together again for a long while!” My stepmom snapped angrily. The fighting continued for a long while, and pretty soon the “real” strippers showed up, and were made to leave, having been explained that the party was over. My dad still tipped them for showing up though. The next day, Cassie didn’t seem to mind the incident a bit, and treated it as though it were just some big, quirky, comedie-of-errors like episode. As for Mrs. Clarkson, we never mentioned the incident directly ever again, but the first day back in class she did ask me, “You done any laundry lately Alex?” Smiling at me as she said it. I blushed and didn’t respond, and that was it, the closest we ever came to talking about it together. Often times, when I take a puff or two from a joint, my mind drifts back to that fateful, sexy, homecoming evening. Brown&yellow, amugeR, pguy69 and 17 others 20 Quote Link to comment
drummerdevil 60 Posted March 17, 2019 Share Posted March 17, 2019 Jesus Christ this is the best story I've read... maybe ever? Quote Link to comment
satyr 1,314 Posted March 17, 2019 Share Posted March 17, 2019 Please chill with the clickbait titles. Just let the story stand on its own. LeakyPanties, Sake, MasterXploder and 2 others 5 Quote Link to comment
jj2jjj 68 Posted March 17, 2019 Share Posted March 17, 2019 My god. What a read. Quote Link to comment
warham1995 1,016 Posted March 17, 2019 Share Posted March 17, 2019 please tell us more about your interesting life with all those hotties! Quote Link to comment
Melificentfan 1,215 Posted March 17, 2019 ✨ Legendary Member Share Posted March 17, 2019 That was a fantastic story I loved it Quote Link to comment
Nar 53 Posted March 18, 2019 Share Posted March 18, 2019 Didn't the expression 'milf' bear in 1999 with the movie American Pie? Overall great story, although I wish at least one of the girls had had an accident. daniel2 1 Quote Link to comment
Mr_g 56 Posted March 18, 2019 Share Posted March 18, 2019 I loved that. what a great story thanks Quote Link to comment
daisyduke 111 Posted March 19, 2019 Share Posted March 19, 2019 I loved that story!!!! your so good at describing the desperation part and i loved that you made it so long. also the scenario was great, I would love to hear more :3 Quote Link to comment
fantasyfan 16 Posted March 19, 2019 Share Posted March 19, 2019 Wow... Just.. Wow. That was really good. Quote Link to comment
ajioajio 10 Posted March 20, 2019 Share Posted March 20, 2019 wow that great story invents another please Quote Link to comment
Who Cares? 61 Posted March 21, 2019 Share Posted March 21, 2019 This is one of those quintessential omorashi stories. Brilliantly written. Quote Link to comment
pguy69 497 Posted March 22, 2019 Share Posted March 22, 2019 Absolutely outstanding! Quote Link to comment
Brenman 343 Posted August 30, 2021 Author Share Posted August 30, 2021 I will write more stories just as good for commissions. Message me if interested. Quote Link to comment
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