Posted by Max on August 04, 2003 at 06:40 [62.49.216.38]
In Reply to: Re: hotel pee posted by Louise on July 31, 2003 at 06:20
Hello Louise
I've read several of your posts, here and in other threads, and I believe you might be interested in some of my experiences.
First of all, I want to say that I don't like to see a man urinate deliberately in public. My wife, and most of the other women I have asked, they all feel the same. But they become very excited to catch sight of a man who has tried to be discreet and hide himself.
Let me tell you about this Saturday. We (ma femme et moi) were at a small theatre en plein air, seated on the grass. At the interval, everyone in the audience rose together and headed for the single loo. We were near the front by the stage, and so we would have been almost last to get to the loo! Instead, we walked around the corner to a quiet street nearby.
It was dark by this time, with few streetlamps, and so first my wife pulled down her pants and crouched between two parked cars, while I watched and stood guard. It was so quiet there that the noise of her spatter must have been audible for a long way. When she had finished, it seemed almost a minute later, I took her place between the cars. Almost as soon as I had started, she whispered "There's someone coming!", and she squeezed in beside me. But I couldn't stop. When I wee outdoors I usually let down my pants to just above my knees, because I like the feeling of freedom and the coolness of the air (I am sure you will understand this, Louise), so the two women who walked past us had a full view! We heard them talking about it all the way to the end of the street.
We were both very turned on by what had happened. We ran back to the theatre, and in the darkness of the second half we secretly touched and played with each other.
In another thread, I have seen you write that you wish clothing manufacturers would make women's' pants with a long zip to make outdoor wees more easy. On our French holiday last year (we visit France at least once, usually twice a year) we were walking home from a restaurant in Blois one evening (tu es familier avec Blois de tes voyages avec ton mari, Louise?). It wasn't late, about nine o'clock, and as we turned a corner towards our hotel we saw a young woman standing by the wall, with the zip of her jeans open and her pants and slip down over her hips. She was weeing against the wall, while her copine waited in the car. As we came near she turned her head, saw us, and smiled. Her wee was in clear sight, and as the stream began to falter she caught the last spurts with a tissue and dried herself, with not a drop spilt on her clothes.
If you would like to hear more, Louise, let me know.