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HI, my name is Alex. I'm just a normal guy like everyone else, or so I thought. Right up until my freshman year of college. I had grown up in a small town with one small school for each age group and was never very confident with the ladies, so moving off to college in the big city all on my own was a pretty big deal, and exposed me to the much larger world I had never been a part of growing up. I was smart, not quite athletic enough to make a college sports team if I had tried, and played an instrument in band. Maybe slightly above average looking? Some girls called me cute (though they still didn't seem to want to go out with me, always being taken by the school jocks instead, but I digress). 

I met Angela, or Angie, in that first semester in Macroeconomics 101.  She was beautiful in a girl-next-door sort of way: brunette hair that was down to her shoulders and slightly wavy, 5'4", and a combination of fit but curvy that I adore, with a skinny waist, wide hips, and breasts I later discovered to be 36D. Best of all were her deep brown eyes and a smile that captivated my soul. She was my dream girl. So of course it took me weeks to get up the nerve to actually talk to her.

Once I did, though, we found pretty quickly that the conversation flowed easily between us and in no time we were spending more and more time together. One afternoon after I walked with her back to her dorm after classes she was finally tired of my hesitations and she surprised me with a kiss. We had the boyfriend-girlfriend talk and just like that we were a couple. I was on cloud nine.

After a couple of weeks the tentative kissing grew more passionate and our hands began to roam over each other's eager bodies during our make out sessions we would sneak when roommates weren't around.  Which is where we found ourselves one fall Friday evening in her dorm after classes, on her bed, making out fully clothed, minus her t-shirt. As we kissed and rolled around, our waists pressed together slowly dry humping each other, my hand slipped down her side and she giggled and flinched.

"Careful, I'm ticklish!" she said.

"Oh? What? This?" I responded, and reached for her sides again.

She squealed and squirmed and laughed and tried to fight me off. We mock-wrestled as I continued to try to tickle her sides while she continued to laugh and try to push my arms away. It was all still arousing in a cute sort of way.

A few moments later through her laughter she said, "Stop or I'll pee myself!" I laughed with her and kept going. "I'm serious!" she said.

"A likely story," I replied, redoubling my efforts, "Just trying to get out of it."

Her voice inflection, her body flush, her motions, all were turning me on. 

She squealed again, "I'm... not joking... if you don't... stop... I'll... I'll.."  Suddenly she squealed again, different this time, and her legs squeezed together and she tried to push me away with her arms and knees. Sensing the change I sat backwards up onto my knees and she curled herself into a ball and rolled off of her bed to stand on the floor beside me with her hands pressed hard into her crotch, her knees hard together. She looked at me with a shocked face, a little red, but still most of a that cute smile, "I warned you!"

"Are you ok?" I asked out of genuine concern.

"I'm fine," she said, "but I told you if you didn't stop tickling me I'd pee my pants."

"You mean?" I asked, eyes drifting down to her hand covered crotch.

She pulled her hands away and rounded her back to stick her crotch forward so she could look down at it, while also providing me an amazing view of her jeans and the obvious dark, wet spot that ran the length of the crotch in kind of the shape of a cucumber, slightly wider towards the back and the start of her butt. Something inside me exploded, searing every nerve in my body. It was the most exciting, arousing thing I had maybe ever seen.

She quickly stood back normal again, ruining my view, and said, "I'm sorry. This is so embarrassing. I'm too old for this."

I jumped up and wrapped my arms tightly around her, "No, it's ok. I'm sorry. It's my fault. I should have stopped."

She laughed a little and asked, "Believe me now?"  I laughed, too, and said, "Well, I do NOW."

I kissed her and held her for a moment and then said, "It isn't so bad. I could barely see anything." It was a lie, of course; I could. In fact, I couldn't STOP seeing everying in my mind's eye.

"Liar," she said, "I can feel it."

I kissed her some more, my erection still pressing against her body, more aroused than ever. "It's ok," I mumbled into her neck.

"How are you still turned on?" she asked, but not moving away or stopping me.

"Ummmm..." I paused, smelling her shampoo on her hair, kissing gently near her ear. "I dunno, it was all kind of cute, kind of sexy, kind of... hot..."

She giggled again. "You think it's cute, sex, hot that your eighteen year old college girlfriend just peed her pants?"

I stopped and looked into her eyes, her big, beautiful, brown eyes. "I mean, yeah, kinda. I don't know why. But, yeah, it kind of turned me on..." My eyes drifted away from her gaze out of shame.

She laughed, "Aww, it's ok, sweetie," and kissed me on the nose, "We're all into something, right? It could be worse. Besides, you were bound to find out sooner or later."

I smiled and looked back at her, "Bound to find out what?"

She blushed again and said, "Well, I'm a little... accident prone..." Now it was her turn to avert her eyes out of embarrassment.

My heart skipped a beat. Does she mean? Could it happen again? Could I get to see more? "You mean... ?"

"I mean I sometimes pee myself. A little!" she clarified, "Usually, I mean. Sometimes not so little..." and laughed nervously.

I pulled her close and kissed her hard, "That's so hot." In less than five minutes I had discovered I had a fetish I never knew existed.

She returned the kiss and we were suddenly making out hard again, standing there in her room. My hands slid down her back to her butt and squeezed, then slowly around her hip. She didn't stop me. My right hand squeezed between our hard pressed bodies until my fingers felt warm moisture in the crotch of her jeans. She inhaled sharply but didn't break our kiss as I began rubbing her wet crotch. Her right hand moved down my side and to the front of my pants as well. She squeezed my throbbing erection over my jeans, then fumbled with the zipper, pushed it down, and reached inside my pants for the first time. Her cold hand wrapped around my shaft and the built up excitement inside me overwhelmed my senses. I shoved my face into the side of her neck and grunted as the first rope of cum exploded into my boxers. She squealed with surprise at the first pulse but managed to pull my cock free of the fly as the second ejaculation sprayed onto her hand and the front of her jeans.

She continued to stroke me through my orgasm and whispered in my ear, "Yeah, baby, cum for me, that's it..." I could barely remain standing upright. When I was done I kissed her long and hard.

We looked down are the mess I'd made on the front of her jeans and hand. I said, "Sorry about your jeans." She said, "Why? They were already going to need a wash!" We laughed.

"I'll go clean up then we can head to the caf for dinner?" she asked. I nodded, putting myself back together.

As she turned to step away she caught me eyeing the barely visible wet spot at the front of her crotch, below the streaks of cum stains. She smiled and said, "One last look before I change." She opened her legs and bend her crotch forward for me, then spun around and stuck out her butt and bent forward, before standing back up. "Get a good look?" I just smiled and nodded. She laughed, grabbed a new pair of panties and jeans from her dresser, then disappeared into the dorm's bathroom.

I took a deep breath, exhaled, and flopped onto her bed on my back, staring at the ceiling. Who was I? What was this new discovery? 

Maybe I wasn't so normal after all.

 

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