Posted by mr_wiz_38 on December 07, 1998 at 21:19
My recent fantasy is partially based on a real woman that I met a while back. She came down from Cleveland for a day of sales training. I was fortunate to have her for the day. She was a knockout. Tall beautiful sexy blonde in outstanding shape. Had just a touch of worry under her eyes (wrinkles) to give her an ever so slight, hardened, know-what-she-wants appearance.
We spent a day selling together. I was a true gentleman. I maintained a professional attitude all day. Inside I was just screaming to probe her mind to see what she was about. After work, I suggested TGI Fridays for appetizers and drinks. She seemed to hesitate before answering, knowing full well that business protocol doesn’t apply after hours. Her enthusiastic “yes” made that knotted feeling that I’d had in my stomach all day even more pronounced. I was on top of the world just being around her.
After a few glasses of wine the conversation got very personal. She told me about her recent marriage and I about mine. She must have felt completely comfortable with me. She answered all my questions. Told me how prior to marriage she masturbated herself to sleep every night. And now, how her husband is offended that she’d have to touch herself “there” to get off. As if his dick should be enough. Boy is he missing the idea! I shook with fear and debated with myself for a long time before telling her about my fascination (almost an obsession) with beautiful women and water sports. Only my wife knew of this frequent element of fantasy and I was telling a virtual stranger. I was terrified she’d think me weird. Anyway, after 4 hours of kinky conversation we kissed and hugged and then parted company. No way the real thing could match the excitement of the self-revealing conversation that we had shared. Why ruin it with actually having sex. Maybe we would not have communicated in bed like we did in fantasy. Besides, we both felt an obligation to certain moral standards. But what if we should meet again?
Anyway, she is the focus of my fantasy.
It’s a warm spring day so Jennifer feels comfortable in a sexy short miniskirt and blouse. As she walks from her car into the shopping mall, her mind races with hot steamy fantasy. There is something about a gentle breeze out of the south and springtime that always seems to get her juices flowing. She wishes she had masturbated earlier while at home as she had contemplated, but too many distractions prevented it. Now her mind is nearly consumed with thoughts of relieving that tension. While completely heterosexual, she does fairly regularly fantasize about other women. Today is no different. Except that a powerful, almost overwhelming thought won’t loosen its grip on her mind. She can not help but think about that guy she met during sales training in Cincinnati. Perhaps because of him, perhaps not, she feels driven to do something totally against social convention, something forbidden. She wants to get dirty. While she had masturbated while thinking about the Cinti guy several times in recent months, today, she could almost feel his breathe on her neck. She feels powerful vibes. Was he thinking about her at this precise moment? She’d nearly got herself off on the long drive to the mall just thinking about him. Needless to say, she feels a little sticky down there. So the first stop is going to be the ladies washroom in the mall.
The bathroom is clean and brightly lit. She looks at herself in the mirror examining her face and hair. She laughs a little to herself and wonders how she could always be so consumed with sexual thoughts and how often she masturbates. And one thing was obvious to her now. She couldn’t even look herself in the mirror without thinking about touching herself. A woman as stunning as she had been stared and leered at lustfully by so many people for so many years, it’s no wonder she’s come to see herself in this same way. Her beauty is radiant. So natural, earthy, unadorned.
She looks anxiously towards the door from which she had just entered the bathroom. A woman and her child enter. She throws a friendly glance their way and pretends to be touching up her hair and what small bit of makeup she is wearing. A few moments pass and the woman and child leave. Jennifer slowly reaches down and gently touches the womanhood between her legs. She’s slightly alarmed and amused to find it bulging through her soft cotton panties, which are thoroughly soaked. Until now she hadn’t even touched herself! It must have been the wiggling in the car seat and those torrid fantasies she was having, she thinks to herself.
She again glances towards the bathroom door and becomes extremely anxious at the thought of someone walking through and finding her reaching up into her skirt and touching herself. Yet, strangely, the anticipation of such a thing happening is arousing. No way any shopping is going to get done until this tension is relieved. She runs her fingers over her bulging clit in circular motions for a while. She stops momentarily and removes her hand from inside her panties to feel herself through her drenched panties. She feels the size of her bushy mound and pulls the panties up a bit and thrusts her hips so to feel her clit rub against the stretched panties. Over and over she does this until she feels an uncontrollable explosion coming on. She grabs her purse and goes into a stall. In here she straddles a toilet and once again reaches up into her throbbing heat. The orgasm comes not a moment too soon. She falls back onto the seat. Exhausted, she drifts off into a lazy daydream.
She is walking down a beach. The gentle ocean tide cools her feet as the scorching hot sun beats on her back and bare ass. She feels so vulnerable in her thong. It shows so much. But this is invigorating, so different from everyday work. There she is responsible for so many others. Handing out directions, giving orders. At work she’s in charge. Out here on the beach she is like a child, carefree, vulnerable. Won’t someone take charge of me! she wishes to herself.
Many beautiful people dot the beach today. Several women with athletic builds in flattering bikinis. There is even some studly muscular men with bulging masses packed into their skimpy bathing suits. Jennifer wades out further into the cooling ocean waters. She can feel the eyes of others penetrating her. She knows they are looking at her perfect tanned ass. She goes out just far enough to feel the waves brush like feathers upon the warm mound between her legs. She gently touches her hardening nipples through her bikini top. Her mind flashes intermittently with visions of a sensuous brunette woman and a tanned muscular blond man back on the beach. She wonders what they are thinking as they watch her from behind.
Jennifer can actually feel the coolness of the water in her dream as the coolness of the bathroom air has by now penetrated the dampness of her wet panties.
Jennifer turns to face the beach. As she does she takes a small step closer to shore. The ocean water is now just a few inches below her crotch. She feels carefree and vulnerable, but also feels daring, and knows she’s on display. Hmmm. If they could only see what I’m doing now. I wonder if they can see. I wonder if their getting off on it, she thinks amusingly to herself. You see, Jennifer is peeing into her bikini, actually, her panties, as she sits over the toilet in the bathroom stall. The flow of hot pee warms her chilled pussy. She holds her hand just underneath her crotch. The pee fills her hand and topples into the toilet below.
This is all too much. Jennifer is aroused all over again. Even more so than before. My God, she thinks, I’m in a public washroom sitting on a toilet peeing into my panties and masturbating myself. The thought only enrages her more. She shivers as she might on a cold day just at the thought of what she is doing. It enthralls her. She is now totally abandoned. She is going to massage her clit until she shakes with orgasm after orgasm. She now shuffles around in her stall. She moans a little, now more, now still more loudly. She is oblivious to what is going on around her. Her hand rides her clit feverishly. Ahh! Ahh! Oh...ya.. ahh...ahh. It is happening again. Deep inside her vagina wriths. Her hips thrust maddeningly, her vagina enthusiastically riding the fingers of her right hand as her left hand delicately fondles the clitorous now almost too swollen to touch.
A sudden bolt of anxiety shoots through Jennifer. Her head spins and her heart pounds so loudly she swares she can hear its echo off the bathroom walls. Her face blushes a deep red. For someone had come into the bathroom! They must have heard what she was doing. Dear God, she thinks, exasperated. If my heart would just stop pounding! She holds her hands over it as if to cover up the sound of its fierce beating. The footsteps fade, the door clunks to a close.
Jennifer quickly gathers herself. She removes her pee cum drenched panties. She bunches them up into her fist. She swings open the stall door. She hurries to the sinks. She rinses her panties, looks over her shoulder to the door. She squeezes them out and stuffs them into her purse. She grabs a paper towel, wets it with water and quickly touches clean her vagina. She doesn’t bother to dry it. She looks into the mirror. Her face is flush redder than she can ever remember. She sighs, takes a deep breath. Her heartbeat softens. She feels so dirty, so disgusted. Nevertheless, her face wears a beguiled almost amused expression. But this doesn’t last long.
Suddenly startled, Jennifer’s heart again pounds through her chest. In the mirror, behind her, she sees a woman. Jennifer spins to look at her. The woman is attractive. Perhaps in her late 30’s. Brunette. Dark brown eyes.. A full figure. She wears a queer penetrating yet blank stare. Jennifer’s emotions are spiraling out of control. Reality stands 3 feet in front of her, staring her in the eyes. Jennifer is convinced that this is the woman who had just overheard her masturbating in the stall. She has come back in to investigate.
For what seems like an eternity, the two women stand staring into eachother’s eyes. Jennifer has never felt more vulnerable, more ashamed. Yet, she can see in the brunette’s eyes no blame, no ridicule. Slowly, Jennifer feels herself relax. Her heartbeat softens, still more, still more. She becomes keenly aware of the nakedness beneath her short skirt. She looks like a pathetic, scared child awaiting punishment for a being bad. The brunette senses this as she ever so slowly inches closer to Jennifer. Jennifer does not move. The Brunette feels awkward. But she cannot resist trying to take advantage of the vulnerability, fear and shame etched so conveniently into Jennifer’s reddened face. The brunette’s mind is flooded with anticipation, her heart is dropping into her stomach, her legs are acting like her moral conscience and are holding back. She forces herself to concentrate on her thoughts and ignore her quivering legs. Successfully, she moves to Jennifer. She presses her lips upon Jennifer’s.
A gentle kiss.
Jennifer feels her own breasts rise like an erect penis. She can not believe what has happened during the past half hour in this mall bathroom. Maybe this room is possessed or cursed or more appropriately, blessed! A thought of disease, aids, illness flashes into Jennifer’s mind and then dissipates as quickly as it had come. This is all so erotic that thoughts of safe sex now seem trivial, ridiculous.
Still without speaking, except with their eyes, the two women move into the same stall Jennifer occupied just moments before. Being led back into this same tiny space Jennifer feels as if the walls are collapsing down upon her. It is terrifying. Yet she does not care. She straddles herself over the toilet as she pulls her mini skirt up to her waste. Her womanhood is completely exposed. Remarkably, Jennifer’s lust has not yet been drained. Like a hypnotized subject, Jennifer obeys the brunette’s commands. While still staring directly into the brunette’s eyes, Jennifer reaches down and gently reacquaints herself with her glorious pussy. Still swollen, but again very wet. Jennifer seems to gain energy and power from the brunette’s intense stare. Jennifer is proud of herself now.
What a woman I am. How incredibly beautiful, soft and sensuous I am. I am here now for this woman. And she is here for me. I am here for her pleasure; she for mine. She drove me here from the beginning. This witch has possessed me. She is so beautiful. I feel like a child. She is my teacher. And she is fucking me. Fuck me bitch. Fuck my virgin pussy. I am a dirty little girl. I have bad thoughts. I want you to touch me here. Here....With her mind Jennifer points to her glistening pussy. The brunette witch obeys Jennifer’s thoughts. All this is said without words being spoken.
The witch’s tongue darts atop Jennifer’s clit. She closes her eyes and moans with heavenly pleasure. The witch pinches Jennifer’s nipples just hard enough to feel some pain. It feels good. She then moves her hands expertly over her full breasts. I’m a 14 year old girl and I am being raped, Jennifer squeals in her heated thoughts. She is leaning back fully extended over the toilet. Her legs spread wide.
The witch is still fully dressed in blue jeans and a casual top. She is here only to please Jennifer. Jennifer feels the “witch’s” fingers enter her vagina and her butt hole. She thrusts wildly, the penetration is more intense than anything she has ever felt before. The witch’s tongue continues its work. She cries out like an infant in need, in want. She purrs like a grown woman....in heat. The witch’s fingers slide in further. Jennifer is saturated with deep deep lust. The tongue feasts, the fingers dig. Jennifer cums once, twice, three times.
Jennifer lays sprawled over the toilet. The witch has finished her work. She stands up. Jennifer opens her eyes and looks at the brunette. There she stands, towering above. Then without any cause or warning, the brunette looks down at her own crotch and watches as her bluejeans darken as she pees into them. Hot steamy pee floods her pants. She looks up at Jennifer. Jennifer is fascinated. This woman knows my fantasies. She knew what I was thinking and doing earlier!
The brunette removes her wet jeans. She looks at Jennifer. Jennifer knows what to do. She reaches into her purse and removes her own still wet panties and hands them to the brunette. The brunette removes her pee cum drenched panties and hands them to Jennifer. Jennifer puts them on. The Brunette puts on Jennifer’s panties. And then pulls out a new pair of jeans from her shopping bag and puts them on. She puts the wet pair into her shopping bag. She smiles and walks out of the stall. Her footsteps fade and the door shuts with a clunk.
Jennifer stands for a few moments in the stall. The sweet stench of the soaked panties that she wears between her legs drifts up to her nose. What have I done? Did I cause this all to happen? Was that woman really some kind of love witch? Or could she just have seen what I was doing through the crack in the stall door and thus know how to turn me on? Then again, maybe that guy from Cinti brought all this on with his powerful thoughts? Hmm Yes?
As Jennifer walks out to her car she gives furtive paranoid glances to passersby. She wonders if they know what has just gone on in the women’s washroom and if they can smell the sweet odor eminating from her wet pee cum soaked panties. She hurries into her car, shuts the door, and wonders how she can get in touch with that guy from Cincinnati.
My recent fantasy is partially based on a real woman that I met a while back. She came down from Cleveland for a day of sales training. I was fortunate to have her for the day. She was a knockout. Tall beautiful sexy blonde in outstanding shape. Had just a touch of worry under her eyes (wrinkles) to give her an ever so slight, hardened, know-what-she-wants appearance.
We spent a day selling together. I was a true gentleman. I maintained a professional attitude all day. Inside I was just screaming to probe her mind to see what she was about. After work, I suggested TGI Fridays for appetizers and drinks. She seemed to hesitate before answering, knowing full well that business protocol doesn’t apply after hours. Her enthusiastic “yes” made that knotted feeling that I’d had in my stomach all day even more pronounced. I was on top of the world just being around her.
After a few glasses of wine the conversation got very personal. She told me about her recent marriage and I about mine. She must have felt completely comfortable with me. She answered all my questions. Told me how prior to marriage she masturbated herself to sleep every night. And now, how her husband is offended that she’d have to touch herself “there” to get off. As if his dick should be enough. Boy is he missing the idea! I shook with fear and debated with myself for a long time before telling her about my fascination (almost an obsession) with beautiful women and water sports. Only my wife knew of this frequent element of fantasy and I was telling a virtual stranger. I was terrified she’d think me weird. Anyway, after 4 hours of kinky conversation we kissed and hugged and then parted company. No way the real thing could match the excitement of the self-revealing conversation that we had shared. Why ruin it with actually having sex. Maybe we would not have communicated in bed like we did in fantasy. Besides, we both felt an obligation to certain moral standards. But what if we should meet again?
Anyway, she is the focus of my fantasy.
It’s a warm spring day so Jennifer feels comfortable in a sexy short miniskirt and blouse. As she walks from her car into the shopping mall, her mind races with hot steamy fantasy. There is something about a gentle breeze out of the south and springtime that always seems to get her juices flowing. She wishes she had masturbated earlier while at home as she had contemplated, but too many distractions prevented it. Now her mind is nearly consumed with thoughts of relieving that tension. While completely heterosexual, she does fairly regularly fantasize about other women. Today is no different. Except that a powerful, almost overwhelming thought won’t loosen its grip on her mind. She can not help but think about that guy she met during sales training in Cincinnati. Perhaps because of him, perhaps not, she feels driven to do something totally against social convention, something forbidden. She wants to get dirty. While she had masturbated while thinking about the Cinti guy several times in recent months, today, she could almost feel his breathe on her neck. She feels powerful vibes. Was he thinking about her at this precise moment? She’d nearly got herself off on the long drive to the mall just thinking about him. Needless to say, she feels a little sticky down there. So the first stop is going to be the ladies washroom in the mall.
The bathroom is clean and brightly lit. She looks at herself in the mirror examining her face and hair. She laughs a little to herself and wonders how she could always be so consumed with sexual thoughts and how often she masturbates. And one thing was obvious to her now. She couldn’t even look herself in the mirror without thinking about touching herself. A woman as stunning as she had been stared and leered at lustfully by so many people for so many years, it’s no wonder she’s come to see herself in this same way. Her beauty is radiant. So natural, earthy, unadorned.
She looks anxiously towards the door from which she had just entered the bathroom. A woman and her child enter. She throws a friendly glance their way and pretends to be touching up her hair and what small bit of makeup she is wearing. A few moments pass and the woman and child leave. Jennifer slowly reaches down and gently touches the womanhood between her legs. She’s slightly alarmed and amused to find it bulging through her soft cotton panties, which are thoroughly soaked. Until now she hadn’t even touched herself! It must have been the wiggling in the car seat and those torrid fantasies she was having, she thinks to herself.
She again glances towards the bathroom door and becomes extremely anxious at the thought of someone walking through and finding her reaching up into her skirt and touching herself. Yet, strangely, the anticipation of such a thing happening is arousing. No way any shopping is going to get done until this tension is relieved. She runs her fingers over her bulging clit in circular motions for a while. She stops momentarily and removes her hand from inside her panties to feel herself through her drenched panties. She feels the size of her bushy mound and pulls the panties up a bit and thrusts her hips so to feel her clit rub against the stretched panties. Over and over she does this until she feels an uncontrollable explosion coming on. She grabs her purse and goes into a stall. In here she straddles a toilet and once again reaches up into her throbbing heat. The orgasm comes not a moment too soon. She falls back onto the seat. Exhausted, she drifts off into a lazy daydream.
She is walking down a beach. The gentle ocean tide cools her feet as the scorching hot sun beats on her back and bare ass. She feels so vulnerable in her thong. It shows so much. But this is invigorating, so different from everyday work. There she is responsible for so many others. Handing out directions, giving orders. At work she’s in charge. Out here on the beach she is like a child, carefree, vulnerable. Won’t someone take charge of me! she wishes to herself.
Many beautiful people dot the beach today. Several women with athletic builds in flattering bikinis. There is even some studly muscular men with bulging masses packed into their skimpy bathing suits. Jennifer wades out further into the cooling ocean waters. She can feel the eyes of others penetrating her. She knows they are looking at her perfect tanned ass. She goes out just far enough to feel the waves brush like feathers upon the warm mound between her legs. She gently touches her hardening nipples through her bikini top. Her mind flashes intermittently with visions of a sensuous brunette woman and a tanned muscular blond man back on the beach. She wonders what they are thinking as they watch her from behind.
Jennifer can actually feel the coolness of the water in her dream as the coolness of the bathroom air has by now penetrated the dampness of her wet panties.
Jennifer turns to face the beach. As she does she takes a small step closer to shore. The ocean water is now just a few inches below her crotch. She feels carefree and vulnerable, but also feels daring, and knows she’s on display. Hmmm. If they could only see what I’m doing now. I wonder if they can see. I wonder if their getting off on it, she thinks amusingly to herself. You see, Jennifer is peeing into her bikini, actually, her panties, as she sits over the toilet in the bathroom stall. The flow of hot pee warms her chilled pussy. She holds her hand just underneath her crotch. The pee fills her hand and topples into the toilet below.
This is all too much. Jennifer is aroused all over again. Even more so than before. My God, she thinks, I’m in a public washroom sitting on a toilet peeing into my panties and masturbating myself. The thought only enrages her more. She shivers as she might on a cold day just at the thought of what she is doing. It enthralls her. She is now totally abandoned. She is going to massage her clit until she shakes with orgasm after orgasm. She now shuffles around in her stall. She moans a little, now more, now still more loudly. She is oblivious to what is going on around her. Her hand rides her clit feverishly. Ahh! Ahh! Oh...ya.. ahh...ahh. It is happening again. Deep inside her vagina wriths. Her hips thrust maddeningly, her vagina enthusiastically riding the fingers of her right hand as her left hand delicately fondles the clitorous now almost too swollen to touch.
A sudden bolt of anxiety shoots through Jennifer. Her head spins and her heart pounds so loudly she swares she can hear its echo off the bathroom walls. Her face blushes a deep red. For someone had come into the bathroom! They must have heard what she was doing. Dear God, she thinks, exasperated. If my heart would just stop pounding! She holds her hands over it as if to cover up the sound of its fierce beating. The footsteps fade, the door clunks to a close.
Jennifer quickly gathers herself. She removes her pee cum drenched panties. She bunches them up into her fist. She swings open the stall door. She hurries to the sinks. She rinses her panties, looks over her shoulder to the door. She squeezes them out and stuffs them into her purse. She grabs a paper towel, wets it with water and quickly touches clean her vagina. She doesn’t bother to dry it. She looks into the mirror. Her face is flush redder than she can ever remember. She sighs, takes a deep breath. Her heartbeat softens. She feels so dirty, so disgusted. Nevertheless, her face wears a beguiled almost amused expression. But this doesn’t last long.
Suddenly startled, Jennifer’s heart again pounds through her chest. In the mirror, behind her, she sees a woman. Jennifer spins to look at her. The woman is attractive. Perhaps in her late 30’s. Brunette. Dark brown eyes.. A full figure. She wears a queer penetrating yet blank stare. Jennifer’s emotions are spiraling out of control. Reality stands 3 feet in front of her, staring her in the eyes. Jennifer is convinced that this is the woman who had just overheard her masturbating in the stall. She has come back in to investigate.
For what seems like an eternity, the two women stand staring into eachother’s eyes. Jennifer has never felt more vulnerable, more ashamed. Yet, she can see in the brunette’s eyes no blame, no ridicule. Slowly, Jennifer feels herself relax. Her heartbeat softens, still more, still more. She becomes keenly aware of the nakedness beneath her short skirt. She looks like a pathetic, scared child awaiting punishment for a being bad. The brunette senses this as she ever so slowly inches closer to Jennifer. Jennifer does not move. The Brunette feels awkward. But she cannot resist trying to take advantage of the vulnerability, fear and shame etched so conveniently into Jennifer’s reddened face. The brunette’s mind is flooded with anticipation, her heart is dropping into her stomach, her legs are acting like her moral conscience and are holding back. She forces herself to concentrate on her thoughts and ignore her quivering legs. Successfully, she moves to Jennifer. She presses her lips upon Jennifer’s.
A gentle kiss.
Jennifer feels her own breasts rise like an erect penis. She can not believe what has happened during the past half hour in this mall bathroom. Maybe this room is possessed or cursed or more appropriately, blessed! A thought of disease, aids, illness flashes into Jennifer’s mind and then dissipates as quickly as it had come. This is all so erotic that thoughts of safe sex now seem trivial, ridiculous.
Still without speaking, except with their eyes, the two women move into the same stall Jennifer occupied just moments before. Being led back into this same tiny space Jennifer feels as if the walls are collapsing down upon her. It is terrifying. Yet she does not care. She straddles herself over the toilet as she pulls her mini skirt up to her waste. Her womanhood is completely exposed. Remarkably, Jennifer’s lust has not yet been drained. Like a hypnotized subject, Jennifer obeys the brunette’s commands. While still staring directly into the brunette’s eyes, Jennifer reaches down and gently reacquaints herself with her glorious pussy. Still swollen, but again very wet. Jennifer seems to gain energy and power from the brunette’s intense stare. Jennifer is proud of herself now.
What a woman I am. How incredibly beautiful, soft and sensuous I am. I am here now for this woman. And she is here for me. I am here for her pleasure; she for mine. She drove me here from the beginning. This witch has possessed me. She is so beautiful. I feel like a child. She is my teacher. And she is fucking me. Fuck me bitch. Fuck my virgin pussy. I am a dirty little girl. I have bad thoughts. I want you to touch me here. Here....With her mind Jennifer points to her glistening pussy. The brunette witch obeys Jennifer’s thoughts. All this is said without words being spoken.
The witch’s tongue darts atop Jennifer’s clit. She closes her eyes and moans with heavenly pleasure. The witch pinches Jennifer’s nipples just hard enough to feel some pain. It feels good. She then moves her hands expertly over her full breasts. I’m a 14 year old girl and I am being raped, Jennifer squeals in her heated thoughts. She is leaning back fully extended over the toilet. Her legs spread wide.
The witch is still fully dressed in blue jeans and a casual top. She is here only to please Jennifer. Jennifer feels the “witch’s” fingers enter her vagina and her butt hole. She thrusts wildly, the penetration is more intense than anything she has ever felt before. The witch’s tongue continues its work. She cries out like an infant in need, in want. She purrs like a grown woman....in heat. The witch’s fingers slide in further. Jennifer is saturated with deep deep lust. The tongue feasts, the fingers dig. Jennifer cums once, twice, three times.
Jennifer lays sprawled over the toilet. The witch has finished her work. She stands up. Jennifer opens her eyes and looks at the brunette. There she stands, towering above. Then without any cause or warning, the brunette looks down at her own crotch and watches as her bluejeans darken as she pees into them. Hot steamy pee floods her pants. She looks up at Jennifer. Jennifer is fascinated. This woman knows my fantasies. She knew what I was thinking and doing earlier!
The brunette removes her wet jeans. She looks at Jennifer. Jennifer knows what to do. She reaches into her purse and removes her own still wet panties and hands them to the brunette. The brunette removes her pee cum drenched panties and hands them to Jennifer. Jennifer puts them on. The Brunette puts on Jennifer’s panties. And then pulls out a new pair of jeans from her shopping bag and puts them on. She puts the wet pair into her shopping bag. She smiles and walks out of the stall. Her footsteps fade and the door shuts with a clunk.
Jennifer stands for a few moments in the stall. The sweet stench of the soaked panties that she wears between her legs drifts up to her nose. What have I done? Did I cause this all to happen? Was that woman really some kind of love witch? Or could she just have seen what I was doing through the crack in the stall door and thus know how to turn me on? Then again, maybe that guy from Cinti brought all this on with his powerful thoughts? Hmm Yes?
As Jennifer walks out to her car she gives furtive paranoid glances to passersby. She wonders if they know what has just gone on in the women’s washroom and if they can smell the sweet odor eminating from her wet pee cum soaked panties. She hurries into her car, shuts the door, and wonders how she can get in touch with that guy from Cincinnati.
Note: I appreciate your votes and responses to this story. I wrote it about five years ago, never dreaming I'd find a forum like wetset to present it. Special thanks to Karen11@hotmail.com for helping me learn how to use this message board and to newbiesf for introducing me to wetset and other watersports stuff on internet.
Ladies please hear this! you're 50% of the population and likely 50% of all those people turned on by watersports. So why are adult chat line and wetset contributors 85% male? This is anonymous! We men are desparately seeking female contributions on this subject. Let's hear from you!
Email: mr_wiz_38@yahoo.com