Posted by Lynx on December 11, 1998 at 13:17
I am a single black male, who happens to be unemployed right about now, so that would explain why I'm working for a temporary employment agency ( hereafter to be known as TEA ). But I'm jumping a little ahead of myself.
As I said, I'm a black male, who- sexually speaking- is as atypical a black male as can be. Of course, watersports happens to be one of those things that typical black males aren't into ( typical black males aren't into any "kinky" sex, other than oral and/or anal, by the way ), but as I said, I'm anything but typical.
Now, you may think me weird, but I'm not one of those people who happens to think that the aroma of fresh piss is erotic. Oh, sure, I like the smell of it when it's diluted ( a GREAT deal ), but in its normal concentrated form, it reeks, at least to my nose. I'm not into GS- really, my fascination with WS is mostly just about watching, and seeing a woman who fights a losing battle with her self-control. I like watching as she breaks down, that mixture of relief/terror/embarrassment on her face as her bladder defiantly empties itself, ignoring her pleas for patience. Hearing the sound of splashing pee as it falls from between her legs, whether it be in her pants, or in a toilet bowl, is just this side of heaven. I love the look and feel of wet panties, especially as she is spurting out of control, her fluids wet and glistening against the fabric. I like the feel of it, pouring out into my hand, or raining down upon my groin as we make love. I don't even mind a small spurt or two to taste, to add a sharper hint of tang to her already heady taste of love juices. But, that's all, I'm sorry to say.
What does this have to do with the story? It's only a bit of background on me, but then again, it will also define for you, in some ways, just what it is about WS, and this story, that turn me on.
Okay, as I've said, I'm currently unemployed, and so I'm working assignments at a TEA. On this particular morning, we were being called into a training session, for another assignment. The instructor sat us down- eight women, and three men- had us introduce ourselves, and began our training.
Now, at about the halfway point of that morning, a nurse entered the room, passed out drug testing consent forms, and waited around while we signed off on them. She then walked out of the room, and a few minutes later, called the lot of us down the hall, to retrieve our testing kits.
Inside each kit was the collection bottle, the testing solution and strips, and the sealant for each bottle. The nurse had us open up each kit in front of her, sign off on that event, and then, armed only with the bottle and sealant, to troupe off to the bathroom.
Now before, I'd worked in one of the adjacent buldings to the one we were in, and in that particular building, the bathrooms were in a little alcove off of the main hall, and were the mens on the left and womens on the right, as you faced the alcove.
Little did I know that the arrangement in this building was the exact opposite.
So, not paying any special attention to the signs, I paraded straight into what I thought was the mens room.
As I walked in the door, I saw in the mirror facing the stalls a door close. I didn't see who it was, and they didn't see me. I walked into the bathroom, and only in passing did I wonder why there might be a door on the stall to the urinal. I went into the last stall-- the handicapped one; I usually take that stall, since I don't feel like a canned sardine in it-- and began to fill up my collection bottle.
There I was, standing at the toilet, cock in my hand, pissing away into the collection bottle. I hadn't the slightest clue that I was in the wrong place, and was about to call out to the "guy" who was supposed to be in there with me, and make a few joking comments about drug testing and urine collection.
The bottle I had in hand was approaching the halfway mark, and I was just gathering air into my lungs to speak, when I heard the outer door open up, and an unmistakably female voice cut through the air.
'What in the world is a woman coming into the men's room for?' I wondered for a second, before my brain kicked in, 'Is this supposed to be a co-ed bathroom, like in Ally McBeal?'
Then my brain started working, and I suddenly realized that I was inside the Women's bathroom!
I almost dropped the collection bottle- which, by the way, I was still trying to fill- and ended up splashing a little bit onto my hand. I realized immediately that I had to be VERY quiet, both in finishing up, and in making sure that I locked the door behind me-- don't ask me why, but when I'm only taking a piss, I don't lock the stall door behind me.
Finishing up, I tightened the screw cap onto the bottle, set it down on the rim of the toilet, and wiped my hands as best I could. I most certainly couldn't go out of the stall and wash my hands; even as the first woman was going into her stall, the other one, the one who I thought was a "guy" was coming out of her stall, and still another woman was coming inside.
Very quickly, I whirled around, and pulled the door that last two centimeters closed, and very slowly, very quietly-- thanking God that the locking mechanism wasn't old and rusted-- locked the door.
Then I realized that I wasn't standing correctly-- that is, with my feet facing outward, like I was sitting down, like a woman. Any woman would know in a heartbeat that I wasn't female that way, so I grabbed the collection bottle, and stood in the middle of the stall, facing the door.
Then the giggling fit started. Quite a few times it threatened to overwhelm me, and make me laugh out loud. By the way, I happen to have a deep voice, so laughing would have also blown my cover; that I couldn't allow, so I covered my mouth, and tried to breathe deeply, so that I couldn't laugh.
But, even in the midst of this, I was still listening-- while, of course, I was watching out of the little crack at the door, looking at the mirror to see when the coast would be clear for me to get the hell out of there-- and I heard glorious things. Remember, there were eight women in my training class, and I'd beaten them all-- except one-- to the bathroom, and you know how long it takes women to take care of business. And also, three *other* women came into the bathroom, as well, including a very pregnant woman in red, who took the stall right next to mine, where I listened to her piss a very strong stream into the bowl.
I was standing less than a foot away from this woman while she pissed in presumed anonimity, as she forced her bladder to empty itself, my cock-- now that my own bladder was empty-- almost painfully erect, halfway between heaven and hell, and holding onto a bottle full of my own urine, and trying not to laugh; getting discovered, especially as each minute went by that I stayed in there, was surely the route to me losing my position with the TEA. I wasn't going to jepordize that, even if I had to stay in that bathroom for the next half hour.
Fortunately, though, it wasn't that long-- although, as I said, with a sum total of eleven women coming into the bathroom, with me having to wait until the last two women were completely secured inside their stalls before bolting out of the bathroom, my wait was nearly fifteen minutes.
I spent the next half hour in training class laughing my fool head off. Everyone looked at me as though I'd inhaled just a little too much laughing gas at the dentist. But, I most certainly couldn't tell them what I'd found so funny.
At some point, I put more posts up, regarding my fantasies, and mishaps. But, in the meantime, if you wanna talk to me, don't hesitate to email me. *smile* Ciao!
TigerLynx
Email: tigerlynx74@yahoo.com