Posted by wetwednesday on January 11, 2000 at 16:13
What Sian did next.
To be read in conjunction with earlier post “Secret peeing story; conclusion”. Please see this current board at 02:14 01/05/2000 for the first five chapters
With thanks to a helpful lady (she knows who she is) for inspiration.
Having accidentally-on-purpose written a loose end into the story I posted earlier this month, I just had to write the rest to find out what happened! You recall Sian kept a pair of Paul underpants for later. Here’s why;
Sian lay in bed. The low sunlight streamed through the window. It was Sunday, 5am. She had been awake for some time. First light at 3:45 had woken the birds, which in turn had roused her to consciousness. The bedroom window was open, and a light breeze ruffled the nets.
She released the towel between her legs and stretched a little. The towel was dry, except for a few spots of slippery liquid inevitably where she had been enjoying the peace and calm of the early summer morning. She lifted the pair of Paul’s underpants she had kept and inhaled again. A smell like sweet orange juice, mixed with something heady like jasmine filled her nose, and the thought of their afternoon together returned to her. She replaced the towel and began to pull her knees up to her waist again, squeezing her cheeks as she did so.
She never peed in bed. She did not like the thought of fermenting pee. That is why she had dried Paul’s underpants quickly by hanging them on the washing line that warm afternoon. She wanted to preserve the scent of their intermingled pee. She had put them in her bedside drawer. After three weeks, they were still important to her and able to arouse strong memories, and ,yes, another squeeze, oh yes, the towel gripped her lips one final time, yes! she exploded with orgasm.
She had decided upon having sex on her own some time ago. It fulfilled her in as much as she needed and wanted, uncomplicated but delightful. Now she had met her Epal, their shared joy of pee fun had gained a new dimension for her. She had told him so in her recent Emails. She would come at least twice a week on the basis of their shared pee fun. She was not dependent, though. She didn’t want to be and had enough other interests to distract her, should she need them. But she didn’t want them just now.
She crept downstairs so as not to wake the children. She fired up her computer and wrote an Email to Paul;
I have just enjoyed another morning with your pants I am holding ransom. Please meet me next Tuesday by the Silver Street Bridge. We can share a coffee and I will give you a present. Can you please pee me some more pants? The batteries have run out on these!
Paul got her Email. He put dark shorts on and peed his underpants several times that day, once or twice running down his leg. It did not matter, it was a hot day. He soaked the front and the crutch thoroughly several times, and left just a small come stain where he had accidentally released what was left when his erection subsided.
They met on Tuesday. They shared coffee and looked over the river. A few ducks swam upstream past leaves floating downstream. Students and couples laughed and collided as they attempted to punt past each other. They were enjoying the afternoon with lunch past and cream teas to return to, probably to sit at the same table as Paul and Sian now occupied. “ I wonder how many of them enjoy a good pee?” Sian said. “On balance” said Paul “I expect none of them. We are a bit unusual”. “I like to think of us as special” said Sian “ I don’t feel unusual, I’m just me”.
Sian handed Paul an envelope. He opened it to see his pants inside. “I washed them for you” Sian said “but then I had a little accident. No actually quite a big one, several times!” She had indeed washed his pants, but then put them on under her own Jeans and peed them, then stripped her jeans off and peed them again several times during Monday, while she was on her own. “I wanted you to share what I have been doing. I always liked it when we could both do the same thing, but I could hardly give you a pair of my knickers to take home!” she said “what would your wife say. But now you have these, and she knows you pee your pants so if she finds them she will just think you did it. You can keep these and think of me, but only when you have private pee fun. I hope you have as much fun as I had with them”.
Paul gave her his own package. “ Here you are” he said “ I hope the police aren’t watching and think we are drugs dealers!”. Sian thought, then said “but wouldn’t their expressions be worth it once they found out what was really in the envelopes! I wonder how they write that up! ”
He was glad the table had a large overhang. His erection must have nearly been touching the underside of the table. “Anymore and the table will start to lift!” he joked. “Sit back then” she said “because I have got to tell you my fanny is itchy. I put my black swim suit on underneath my dress and I am dying to go and pee through it”. They sat for a while, Paul with the newspaper in his lap, and enjoyed the afternoon sun. Sian went down to the riverside and knelt down to dabble her finger in the water’s edge. Her dress settled softly behind her. As she peed through her swimsuit, her pee ran down the insides of her legs and soaked into the grass where her knees pressed into the turf. “Environmentally friendly” she thought “poor old grass is so dry it needs some help”. She determined to write to Paul about that next time.
The story continues, I expect, but there is no more to tell, dear reader.
Keep wet and happy.