5 comments/ 136760 views/ 12 favorites To Pee Or Not To Pee By: Van999 Your comments are welcome and please vote! Thanks! My wife had just pulled my pants off my legs when the phone rang. She was standing over me as I sat on the couch, wearing the transparent blue nightie she knew I loved. "Shit!" I said. "Don't answer it," she said. "I have to, Terri. There's a lot of last minute stuff going on before the conference tomorrow. It might be important." I glanced at my watch. It was 9:00. I got up off the couch, and standing there in my underwear, I picked up the phone. "Tom Gentry." "Mr. Gentry, this is Lisa Martin from the second floor. I mean, I'm not on the second floor now... I'm at home, but I work on the second floor and I'm so terribly sorry to bother you at home, but I'm only calling because Mr. Jenkins told me to call you." It was a woman's voice. It sounded like a young woman. The second floor... the depths of hell... the accounting department. Sam Jenkins, the head of accounting, I thought to myself. Over the years I'd had plenty of run-ins with him. Every time one of our engineers needed as much as a penny for what they were working on, they had to go through Sam. What trouble had he brewed up for me now? My wife had moved in front of me, and began grinding her ass against my crotch. I could feel my cock coming to attention. "Am I interrupting you, Mr. Gentry? Do you have one quick second?" "Tom," I said. There was a pause. "I mean, call me Tom. No, you're not interrupting anything. What did the old scoundrel want you to call me for?" There was a giggle on the other end of the line. "No, he doesn't want anything, I mean, he just told me to call you because I want something. I mean, I don't want something, I'd like to ask something...because he told me to." She sounded nervous. Meanwhile, I slipped my briefs down and nestled my now hard cock between Terri's warm asscheeks. "Go on," I said. "Well, I'm only calling because Mr. Jenkins said I should..." "So tell me what you want?" I was beginning to get a little annoyed. Terri leaned forward, and with my free hand, I brought my cock down until it slid between the mounds of her pussy. She let out a little moan. "O.K., sorry," she said, "You know the conference tomorrow?" "Yes." "Well, I would never ask you this Mr. Gentry..." "Tom," I interrupted. "Tom, I'm sorry. I would never ask you this...Tom, but Mr. Jenkins said I should call you. I've only worked here for four months, I mean, I'm just new in accounting, but he thought I should go to the conference to get a little background about what the industry is all about." I slowly thrust my hips forward, causing my hard cock to slowly slide into Terri's wet passage. I let out a little groan. "Mr. Gentry, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm still here. Tell me what you want." "Sorry," she said, "It was all planned I'd be going to the conference with Mrs. Russell..." Terri moaned again as I pushed deeper inside her. "Anyway, something personal came up with Mrs. Russell, and she can't go until the day after tomorrow, and I don't have a car, I take the bus to work, and I know this is asking a lot, but Mr. Jenkins told me to ask you if I might possibly...if I might possibly get a ride with you." Christ, I thought, she's finally come to the point. The conference was about a four-hour drive from our headquarters, and since there was no direct flight, the four or five of us who were going had decided to drive. Now, Terri was thrusting herself back and forth against me, her ass slapping hard against my pelvis. "Uh, I guess," I said, "where do you live?" "Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Gentry..." "Tom." "Thank you so much...Tom. And it's not out of your way, Mr. Jenkins said. He said you go right by my apartment on your way to the interstate." Meanwhile, Terri had one hand braced on the coffee table as she increased the speed and force of her back and forth motions. I could see her other hand was busy too, fingering her pussy. "O.K., give me your address," I said. I had to lean backward and stretch my arm out to reach a pen and piece of paper on the bookshelf. Trying to keep my hand steady as Terri rocked back and forth against me, I scribbled down the address. Terri screamed and I could feel a boiling deep in my balls. "I'll be there about 9:00," I said, as I felt the first blast of cum fly out of my cock. "And I'm sorry," I asked, my voice quaking, "what's your name again?" "Lisa," she answered, "and thank you so much, Mr. Jenkins." "No problem," I moaned, as Terri let out another scream. Sam owed me big time for this, I thought as I hung up the phone and pounded my spurting cock deeper into Terri's cunt. ***** Lisa was waiting for me at the curb in front of her apartment. I loaded her suitcase in the trunk. "Nice car, Mr. Jenkins," she said as she got in, "This will be a first for me. Mercedes is my favorite car, but I've never even been in one before." "Tom. Call me Tom." "O.K....Tom. It just feels funny, I mean, with you being an important person in engineering and all, and me a bookkeeper... and you being a little older, I just wanted to..." "And just how old do you think I am?" I asked, as we pulled onto the street. "Oh, I wouldn't want to guess," she answered, "I might be too far off either way." "Well, I'm thirty-nine, and I certainly don't feel like I'm ready for the old folks home just yet." Lisa giggled. "Look," I interrupted her, "we're all human beings working for the same company so we're all equally important, and nobody should be calling anybody else by their last name. Except maybe for your boss, Jenkins, I'm not sure he's human." She looked up me in shock. When she realized I was joking, she put her hand over her mouth and laughed. "He's O.K. He's a good boss," she said, "He makes sure we're always learning new stuff and new ways to do things. I really like working for him." Lisa was probably twenty-two, maybe twenty-three, I figured. She had an attractive face, with full red lips and blue eyes that almost seemed to twinkle as she looked at me. She had an expressive, animated way of talking, her hands in constant motion and her facial expressions mirroring her words. She was medium height, and from what I could see, she had more of a full-figured build, not fat by any means, but definitely not skinny. Her breasts and hips seemed to fill out the skirt and blouse she was wearing. I soon found out Lisa liked to talk, which was fine with me because four hours is a long drive, I realized, and having her along would certainly make the time go faster. She soon was telling me how she'd moved to the city to attend a two-year business school. Sam had hired her soon after she'd graduated. It had taken her a long time to make new friends, she told me, but she got together regularly with some of the other girls she'd gone to school with. For some reason, I just felt comfortable listening to Lisa. She had a pleasant, soothing voice and I found myself laughing as she told me stories about her childhood. We'd been talking for at least a half an hour when I suddenly realized I didn't even know if she was married. "So you're not married?" I asked. "No way," she laughed, "I'm not ready for that yet." "Any boyfriends?" "Uh, yeah," she said in a flat voice. "You don't seem too excited about him," I said. "He's alright, I guess. We get along, but most of the time he's just interested in, you know...one thing." Lisa put her hand over her mouth and giggled. "Yeah, men are real pigs, that's all they ever think about," I said with a chuckle as I glanced at her. She was blushing slightly. "I mean," she continued, "it's O.K. with me and all, but not all the time." "It can't be all the time," I said, "or your boyfriend's name would be Superman, Man of Steel." Lisa laughed. "No, of course, not all the time like that, but he thinks about it all the time, or at least makes me think about it all the time." "Makes you? How?" I asked, glancing at her with a confused look on my face. Her blush seemed to get deeper. "I mean, he asks things of me...asks me to do things." "Yeah," I repeated, "men are real pigs. But it takes two to tango." "I know," she said, "but men can be so stupid sometimes, so silly." "Like last weekend..." she started to say, but her voice trailed off. "What?" "No, it's too silly to talk about." "Tell me," I said. "Being in your car reminded me. I mean, it's dumb, not like he's a mad rapist or something, and I don't want you to get the idea I'm some weirdo." "So tell me." There was a long pause. Lisa sighed, as if to say, 'what the hell, I'll tell you'. "We were driving up to the lake. It's like an hour and a half trip, and we're no sooner out of his driveway than he wants me to...take off my jeans and go the rest of the way like that. With nothing on... down there. Is that weird?" "But you did it?" There was another pause. "Yes, but only because he asked me to." "But if he didn't physically force you, that means you took off your jeans because you wanted to. Right?" "I guess, but it still felt a little strange sitting there for that long. I mean, with cars passing us and everything." "You say it was a strange feeling, did you dislike the feeling?" "I...I didn't...no, I guess not," she said, "but it wasn't just that." "What else?" "I mean, dumb things," she continued, "God, I can't believe I'm telling you this stuff. I mean, by the time we're there, you'll know more about me than I do," she said with a laugh. "Go on." "Well, you may have noticed I like to talk. I can't help it. I've always been that way. So I end up doing the talking for both of us, for me and my boyfriend, with me saying twenty words for every one of his." "Some people are like that," I said, "you can't hold it against a person for being the quiet type." "No, there's more to it than that. When we're alone, he likes me to talk in a way...in a way I'm not used to talking." "What, like in German or French," I asked with a smile. "No," she giggled, "not like that. Like, he wants me to talk...dirty. Not just when, you know, we're...doing it, but all the time. Like on that drive to the lake..." "Tell me." "No, it's too silly." "No, really, I want to hear about it," I said, "I really do." "Well, I'm sitting there beside him, and he wants me to face him, to sort of...you know...show myself to him, so he can see me when we're driving. I was a little scared because he'd take his eyes off the road for so long I was sure we were going to wreck. "But that's not enough, me without my jeans. I have to say things. Like, for a solid fifteen minutes at a time, I'm not allowed to talk about anything but, you know...sex stuff. And he makes me use all the words I wouldn't normally use. He says it sort of...turns him on. That's got to be weird!" "Sounds like your boyfriend is pretty normal to me," I said with a chuckle, "and besides, you agreed to do it." "But only to please him." "You wouldn't jump off a cliff if he asked you." "Of course not." "How about cut off your foot?" "No," Lisa giggled, "I wouldn't do that either." "So there, you've set limits on what you'll do to please him. And you do these things either because it brings you pleasure directly, or because it brings you pleasure to bring him pleasure. Or maybe even both." "I guess you're right," Lisa sighed, "life can be complicated." "It sure can. Do you like this guy a lot?" There was a long pause. Then Lisa slowly shook her head. "No, not really," she said in a small voice. "But you must have some feelings for him. I mean, if a stranger told you to take off your jeans you wouldn't." "I certainly wouldn't," Lisa said with a laugh, "because I'm not wearing jeans, I'm wearing a skirt." "O.K., smart ass, if a stranger told you to take off your skirt." I glanced at her. "Hmm," she said, looking at me with her eyebrows furrowed, as if pretending to be deep in thought. "He'd have to ask first, then I'd see how I felt about it," she said, breaking into a laugh, "If it was some bum on the street, I'd say no, but you never know, if some handsome guy in a Mercedes picked me up..." Suddenly realizing what she'd said, Lisa put her hands up and covered her face. She turned beet red. "Oh, God! I didn't mean pick me up in a Mercedes," she said in a stumbling voice, "that's just a phrase. I meant, if some guy in a Jaguar or a nice BMW picked me up." I turned toward her and chuckled, sympathizing with her embarrassment. "Whoops," she said with a little giggle. "What if you knew the guy in the...Jaguar was married?" I asked. "I don't suppose letting him see me in my panties would wreck his marriage." "But what if he wanted you to talk dirty to him, like your boyfriend does?" "I might give him a break, give him a little thrill. Maybe he'd really like it, and maybe his wife is too shy for that sort of thing. And maybe it would make me a little excited too." "But this guy in the Jaguar, what if he was really attracted to you and you knew you really turned him on, and you knew if he saw you in your panties, and you were talking dirty to him, it would really arouse him, and it would be natural for him to expect... more would happen...later. But you also knew because he was married, nothing permanent could come out of it, it would just be a one time deal." There was a pause. "I'd have to consider the situation," Lisa said, "if the stranger was someone I was attracted to, I might consider, uh, getting together with him, even if I knew nothing long term would come out of it. Hey, it's possible this guy would be a great lover and we'd have a terrific time for a couple of days. Then I'd go back to my boyfriend, and he'd go back to his wife, and the two of us would always have fond memories of those brief moments of bliss we spent together." Lisa giggled, "God, doesn't that sound so romantic! I didn't know I had it in me." There was another long pause. I turned my head toward her. Suddenly, her eyes and mine locked together, and something happened - some unspoken communication, some subconscious understanding passed between us. For the next several minutes, we were silent. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I could see Lisa turn toward me. "Do you think the stranger in the Jaguar would like it if I took off my skirt?" Lisa asked softly, "Would it excite him?" "Yes," I said, "It would excite him a lot." "And do you think he would really want her to talk dirty to him?" "Yes," I answered. "But how would I know he wouldn't be offended by such filthy language? What if it turned him off?" "It wouldn't turn him off," I said, realizing there was a slight tremor in my voice, "It would really turn him on, no matter what you said. I know." I turned and looked as Lisa reached down and undid the buttons on the side of her skirt. She raised her hips and slowly slid her skirt down and pulled it off her legs, the entire length of her thighs now visible to me. They looked smooth and soft and inviting. Higher, her panties were partially hidden by the bottom of her blouse. She undid the bottom three buttons and pulled the bottom of her blouse apart until I had a clear view of her stomach, and lower, the contours of her hips filling the shear material of her white panties. "And do you think the stranger in the Jaguar likes what he sees?" she said in a whisper. "Yes, he likes it a lot," I said, looking at Lisa, then back at the road. "Now, I'm running my finger up and down the front of my panties," Lisa continued," It's too bad the stranger in the Jaguar has to keep his eyes on the road, or he'd see the front of my panties were wet." I glanced down as her fingers slid across her panties, the bottom of them nearly transparent from the moisture. "And would the stranger in the Jaguar want me to take off my panties do you think? So he could see my pussy?" "Yes," I said, my voice quivering. Lisa undid her seatbelt and raised her hips, sliding her panties down her legs. Then, she turned toward me and leaning back against the car door, she put her right foot up on the console, spreading her legs wide apart. I glanced down at her pussy, now fully exposed. Her pussy hair was brown, and trimmed neatly to a thin vertical strip. Below, the red lips of her pussy gaped open, glistening with moisture. "I'm taking my finger now," Lisa continued in a soft voice, "and running it down both sides of my pussy, stroking my wet pussy lips." She let out a little whimper. "Do you think the stranger would want to see my tits?" "Yes, I know he would," I said, my voice almost a groan. Lisa undid the remaining buttons on her blouse and pulled the front of it open. She undid the clasp in the front of her bra and shook her shoulders, allowing her breasts to spring free. Released from the confines of her bra, her breasts were much bigger than I'd imagined. Round and full and heavy, her areoles were at least three inches in diameter, with little brown nipples protruding from their center. "Now," Lisa continued, "I'm keeping one hand on my pussy and using the other to play with my tits, to stroke them, to caress them, to pinch my nipples and maybe pull on my nipples until it begins to hurt." I had to use all my will power to keep my eyes focused on the highway. "Do you suppose by now the stranger would be getting a little aroused?" she asked. "No, I think by now, he would be very aroused," I answered. "Do you suppose his cock would be a little hard?" "No, I think by now his cock would be hard as a rock." "Good," Lisa continued, "Now, I think I would ask the stranger to undo his pants and take his cock out, so I could see it as I played with myself." I realized my breath was coming a little faster now. I could feel my erection pushing against my pants, straining to break out. I braced one knee against the steering wheel to steady it, and awkwardly undid my belt and pulled my zipper down. I raised my hips and slid down my briefs, allowing my pulsing cock to spring out into the open. Lisa let out a little gasp. "The strangers cock is very big. Much bigger than I'm used to." "Now," she continued, "it's not my fingers stroking my pussy lips, it's the stranger's hard cock stroking up and down against me. He's...you're rubbing the head of your cock gently against my cuntlips, then you're using it to make little circles around my clitoris. And with your hands, you're gently pinching my nipples, then tugging on them, pulling them. Lisa was using her hands to mimic her words. She held one nipple in her fingers, and was pulling outward, stretching and distending her breast into a sharp cone. I couldn't help myself, I put my hand around my cock and slowly began to stroke it. "And then I would want your cock in me. I would want your cock deep in my cunt." I glanced down as Lisa inserted two fingers into her pussy. "Oh, God!" she said as she pushed her fingers deep inside. Her breathing was louder now, each breath coming in a short little gasp. "Yes, Tom, I want your cock deep inside me. I want you to fuck me, to fuck me hard, to push your hard cock deep into my cunt." Lisa's face was flushed as she played with herself. Now, she had both hands on her pussy, and her breasts swung back and forth with her movements. A series of short, staccato whimpers started coming from her mouth. "Oh, God!" she screamed, "Fuck me! Fuck me hard, Tom! Pound your cock deep into my cunt!" A visible shiver shook Lisa's body. "Oh, fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she screamed out, "I'm 'gonna cum! I'm 'gonna cum now!" Suddenly, Lisa's head rolled back. Her mouth opened wide and from the back of her throat, she let out a loud, piercing scream. Her hips suddenly began to jerk up and down and I watched as her entire body began to quake, her heavy breasts flying up and down on her chest. To Pee or Not to Pee To Pee or Not to Pee Or When You Gotta Go, You Gotta Go. So far all my stories have been pure fiction, so I thought it was time to branch out and try my hand (no pun intended) at non-fiction. The following four short stories are completely true. Only the names have been changed to protect the peeer. Your comments, thoughts and your own stories are very welcome. Last year I was chatting on-line with a friend when the subject of her small bladder came up. She was telling me that she was planning a car trip to East Texas with her kids and that it was necessary to carefully plan each rest stop in advance. I told her that I understood as I had a wife, kids, grandkids, pets, etc. and that we also frequently made long road trips. That got me thinking of funny "peeing" stories that I then shared with her and I'm now sharing with you. For the record, I do not have a "peeing" fetish and those of you that do may find these stories less than satisfying. But for some reason, the Great Creator did combine the urinary function for both males and females within our genitals. I have no idea if this was some sort of cruel joke in which He cracks a smile every time we drop trowe in order to relieve ourselves, or if there is some greater purpose we mortal humans are just now starting to explore. In either event, society does dictate a certain degree of modesty in the act, as our genitals are temporarily exposed. Further, it does give all of us a chance to "get in touch with ourselves" at least six or more times a day, which is not a bad thing. The following four shorts stories and additional little anecdotes are from the collection of e-mails I sent my on-line friend over a period of several months. Story #1 -- Back on the Farm My first two years of grade school were in a small farming town south of Dallas, Texas in the mid-1950s. I was a city boy and I have never lived on a farm, but in this small town, many of my classmates did. Kristy was a cute little blue-eyed, blonde-haired farm girl who sat next to me in class and we became friends. As a city dweller, I walked or rode my bike to school most days as only the kids outside of town had school bus service. Kristy's mom picked her up after school every day and sometimes she'd offer me a ride home. It was only five blocks to my house, but I was a fast learner and riding in the back seat of her mom's Chevrolet sure beat the hell out of walking. Occasionally I was invited out to the farm for what you'd now call a "play date." Her mom would drive in and pick me up for a day on the farm. Her whole family got a kick out my naiveté in regard to farm life and barn yard animals. And I'm sure I had that "deer in the headlights" look on my face more than once. One of those experiences came on a bright Saturday morning when Kristy and I were playing in her barn. I had never been in a barn before and I loved climbing up into the hay loft and jumping off into the huge plies of hay on the barn floor. The smell of the freshly cut hay filled my nose and even 50 years later, the smell of hay instantly takes me back to that day. We had been playing for about an hour, when all of a sudden, Kristy stands and facing me, pulls her shorts down, squats and pees. I was speechless; it was clearly one of those "deer in the headlights" moments. I had two brothers and of course I'd seen them pee many times. And I knew there was an anatomical difference between boys and girls, but I'd never actually seen it! Now in all honesty, I'm sure she didn't do it to impress me. In fact, I'm sure she didn't think a thing about it. She simply had to pee and there was no reason to run to the house or to even excuse herself for a minute. She had three older brothers who I'm sure she had seen pee outside many times and besides, the cows do it, the horses do it, so what's the big deal? The entire event probably took less than 30 seconds and her pants were back up as if nothing had happened. But, it was still nothing less than a watershed event for me; obviously as I still vividly remember it half a century later. I looked Kristy up on the Internet a few years ago and we did start exchanging e-mails for a while. She didn't remember me or any of the events from that day in the barn. But she did half-way believe me, as I just simply knew too many details of her farm and the two years of grade school we spent together. I eventually got around to telling her that I'd seen her naked, but I never did tell her about the peeing thing. It just never came up in conversation... And we only corresponded for a month or so, but it is and will always be a sweet memory for me. The innocence of youth is a wonderful thing. * * * * * * * I can't think of any more memorable peeing stories from my youth (remember, this isn't a fetish of mine), but I do have one very funny "lesson learned" experience. Being raised in Texas, even a city boy knows you never pee on an electric fence. But somehow that nugget of common sense doesn't always carry over to other seemingly harmless inanimate objects. One Saturday morning when I was in Jr. High (Middle School these days), several of us guys were to meet over at my friend Ernie's house. When we got there, Ernie was in the midst of mowing his family's yard. He was rather pissed off (so to speak) and explained that he couldn't play until he finished cutting the grass. At that moment the urge came over him to take out his frustrations out on the lawn mower, which was still running at the time. He turned his back to us, pulled out his pecker and began peeing on the lawn mower. Well, you don't have to be raised in Texas to know what happened when his stream hit the spark plug. The jolt knocked him both figuratively and literately flat on his ass. It was about the funniest thing my friends and I had every seen. We all laughed so hard we cried. So just keep in mind, the next time you're "pissed off" just make sure that whatever you piss on, can't piss back. * * * * * * * Story #2 -- It happened on a Mountain Top Many years later I had an assistant name Jamie. She was still a college student when I hired her and in many ways she was an innocent young thing. But on the other hand, she was a twenty year old coed with a very active social life. This was her first real professional job and at first we were both a little cautious about exploring topics of a personal nature. But over time, we got familiar enough with each other to share a dirty joke or a risqué story from time to time. Eventually she told me stories about when she and her girl friends were out for a night of drinking, they would all try to hold off that first pee for as long as possible; for once you "broke the seal" as she called it, you'd then have go every 30 minutes for the rest of the night. I'd always called that phenomena "priming the pump" and I was glad to hear it was just as true with women as it was with men. But, I do like the expression "breaking the seal" much better and I've used it ever since. She also told me that when she or her friends really had to pee and a public restroom was not available, they would duck behind a dumpster in the nearest alley and "Pop a Squat." I loved that expression. I'm not sure why, but it's just so cute and descriptive. I can just see five or six drunken college coeds all standing in an alley, beside a dumpster, shielding their drunken friend while she "popped a squat." Jamie also told me a story about the time she was at some Frat party and after hours of drinking, she really needed to pee. For some reason, she didn't want to use a bathroom in the house and decided to use a Port'O Can out in the yard. It was very dark and admittedly she may have had a drink or two too many, but once inside the Port'O Can, she pulled down her pants and because she didn't want to sit on the toilet seat, she "squatted" over the hole. Keep in mind; this was a girl that knew how to pop a squat. Unfortunately, in the dark, she failed to realize the toilet seat cover was down. And Instead of her pee going through the open hole, as she expected; it splashed all over her butt, her legs and her pants that were down around her ankles. I wasn't there and I didn't see or hear any of this first hand, but it was a funny story and why she told me about it, I'll never know. I was several months later we were on business trip together in Utah. During the day, it was business as usual; but after five, we were just a couple of tourists. The first night I took her to Temple Square in downtown Salt Lake City. I guess the Mormon thing just didn't do it for her as she was not very impressed by the stateliness of the place nor its historical significance. So the next night, I decided to make it up to her. After work we headed up to Park City. This was several years before the Winter Olympics were held there, but the city had already been selected and preparations were underway. We stopped for dinner at a local brew pub and both ordered a beer. She was not quite 21 at the time and it took some pretty fast talking from both of us to get her served; but we eventually were and we both had a couple of very nice beers with dinner. Those that know me, know that I've never been one to "back track" some road I've just traveled. So instead of taking the freeway back to Salt Lake City, I opted for a more scenic route up the eastern face of the Wasatch Mountains to the crest, and then down Big Cottonwood Canyon Road to the city below, and eventually our hotel. Our route took us over five or six miles of bumpy gravel road as we wound our way up the side of the mountain to the Brighton Pass. As we reached the summit, the sun was setting out over Nevada 140 miles in front of us and the lights of the city below us were just beginning to come on. It was truly a beautiful sight and a spectacularly glorious evening. As I stopped the car to take in the truly inspiring view, Jamie announced, "I really need to pee!" Since neither of us had the foresight to have used the facilities while in Park City, I agreed that I could also stand to stretch my legs. So I parked the car and told her to head south down the crest trail and I'd head up the trail the opposite direction. We agreed to meet back at the car in five minutes; which I assumed would be plenty of time for the necessary business at hand and provide the appropriate degree of modesty for both of us. Five minutes later I was back at the car waiting for her when here she comes up the trail with a somewhat shaken look on her face. I jokingly asked her, "Did everything come out alright?" Well, apparently not. She explained that just as she had pulled down her pants and squatted, holding on to a tree for support, a group of hikers came walking up the trail. She was in mid-stream and there wasn't much she could do, except give these guys a much better view of the moon then they hadn't been expecting that night. She seemed a little embarrassed by the incident, and she didn't want to go into any further details. But I'm sure the moment she got home, she couldn't wait to tell her girl friends how she got caught peeing in the woods with her boss. * * * * * * * Admittedly there does seem to be a difference between boys and girls in their attitude about peeing in the woods. This was never more evident than when I was a Scoutmaster. My wife would never go camping with the troop as she always claimed being out in the woods brought out a "Lord of the Flies" syndrome in otherwise civilized young men. And after my first summer camp experience I'm afraid I had to agree. It was hard enough just to get the boys to leave the camp to relieve themselves. And if it was raining, the younger boys would just simply pee out the flap of their tent rather than get wet running to the latrine. But the most notable experience for me was during my first year as Scoutmaster. The boys would have peeing "sword fights" at the edge of camp. One afternoon a couple of younger boys got into a "dual" with a couple of older boys and apparently lost pretty badly. In retaliation, the two younger scouts fill a canteen cup with urine and climbed a tree to wait for their adversaries. As the two older boys returned from the evening flag ceremony, in full uniform, the younger boys dumped the contents of the canteen cup on the older boys. What happened next apparently surprised the younger boys, but of course didn't surprise me; the older boys climbed the tree and beat the crap out of the two younger boys. And to add insult to injury, I disciplined the younger boys, but not the older ones (rank does have its privilege). Again, the moral of the story is, when you're "pissed off" just make sure that whomever you piss on, can't piss back... Or beat the crap out of you. * * * * * * * Story #3 -- No Place to Go Brenda was my second assistant and worked for me for many years. Like Jamie, she was a couple of decades my junior, but over the years we became very close friends and good drinking buddies. Within a month or two of coming to work for me, we took our first business trip together. These trips were primarily training trips for her so she could learn about the business, but it was also nice to have a travel companion and we always tried to get in an hour or two of sight-seeing while on the road. We had three stops to make on this particular trip. First was a stop in Maryland, then one in northern Virginia the same day. The next morning, we had one final appointment in southern Virginia before making a mad dash back to the Baltimore airport for our flight home. It had been a very busy trip without much free time, but we were hoping to get back to Washington DC with enough time for a leisurely lunch and hopefully a little sightseeing before racing to the airport. Brenda doesn't drink coffee, but I do, and she did have a couple of Red Bulls before our morning appointment. The meeting went very well and we were both very excited about our apparent success with a potential new client. So excited, we both forgot to stop by the "facilities" before jumping in the car and heading north on the freeway. Somewhere about 50 miles north of Richmond, a huge overhead signed flashed, "Accident Ahead, All Lanes Blocked." That was very helpful information, except that it was unfortunately too late for us as we had already past the last exit before all traffic came to a complete and utter stop. All north-bound lanes of Interstate 95 had totally been shut down and there was nothing but a three lane parking lot ahead for as far as the eye could see. After a few minutes Brenda announced that she really had to pee. I agreed that the same urge had occurred to me, but it didn't look like we were going anywhere soon. After another few minutes I noticed that she was beginning to squirm in her seat. Now the car was a rental, but even at that, her peeing in the seat probably wasn't a very good idea. So I offered a solution. Since we obviously weren't going anywhere, I suggested that she run into the woods on the right and I would run into the woods on the left. Virginia does not have service roads on their freeways and the woods were very dense on both sides of the freeway. She said, "No, they'll know what we're doing." Well duh, I thought, but I was still thinking about the prospect of returning a smelly wet rent-a-car if we didn't think of something fast. As luck would have it, the left lane did begin to slowly move as drivers started using the "Official Vehicles Only" cross-over between the north and south bound lanes of I-95. We did make it to a McDonald's and a public restroom in the nick of time. So my story would have ended here, except that we lost so much time on the highway, we had to skip Washington DC all together and headed directly for the airport. Once safely beyond airport security, we did have enough time for a few beers in the airport bar and once on the plane, Brenda started drinking up my free drink coupons that Southwest Airlines gives out to their frequent fliers. In those days, Southwest still had the facing seats so that when the plane was full, you had six passengers all sitting together like old friends. And since the seats were still pretty close together, if you had a traveling companion, you would normally seat facing each other so at least you were playing "footsies" with someone you knew. By mid-flight, Brenda was well into her beers and feeling no pain. As she told story after story to the four helpless travelers sitting with us, she got louder and louder. And with the punch line to each story she would reach over and slap my thigh and kick the bottom of my seat at the same time. As I knew she would, she eventually got around to the story of us being stuck on the freeway. After finishing the story and downing the last of her latest beer, this guy next to her asked, "Sooooo... the two of you are on vacation?" "Nooooo," she loudly announces as she slaps by my thigh hard enough to leave a mark. "Heeee's my boss!" That wasn't our last business trip together, but it was the last time I brought free drink coupons. * * * * * * * Donna is one of Brenda's best friends and a drinking buddy of ours. I absolutely love partaking in happy hour with these two girls, as they are both quite a hoot and after a tough day at the office, they really can put a smile on my face. In fact Donna is so funny that sometimes the two of us just get off in our own little world and Brenda becomes the third wheel. This is exactly what happened one night at the Shoal Creek Saloon. Brenda had gotten up to "break the seal" just as Donna and I were starting on our third pitcher. With Brenda in the ladies room, the logically topic of discussion seemed to be, "Why do woman have to wipe after they pee?" I told Donna that I had seen a porno movie once where there was a scene of a woman peeing. And for the uninformed male, like me, it was another watershed moment, so to speak. The scene was filmed very up close and in super slow motion. From that moment on, I forever understood why females have a need to wipe, or at least blot, after peeing. In fact, I now wonder why they don't shower after every trip to the ladies room. It does give a whole new meaning to the expression, "powder our noses." Well, by now I was laughing so hard, I was crying. Sometimes I really crack myself up -- especially when I've been drinking. But not to be outdone, Donna launches into a story of when she was a teenager and babysat for a little boy in the neighborhood. She was probably 13 or so and the kid was probably 3 or 4. He told her he had to go potty and so she took him to the bathroom. As he stood at the toilet peeing like a fire hose (the good old days), she calmly pulled off a foot or so of toilet paper and wrapped it around her fingers. When the kid was finished, she tried to hand him the neat roll of paper. The kid simply shook himself and looked up at her like she was frigging nuts. Which she was! By this time, Donna and I were rolling on the floor with laughter; apparently we crack each other up. When Brenda got back to the table, we were both in hysterics. She just rolled her eyes and left us to go play pool with any poor sap she could lure into a game. This brings me to the subject of "drip drying" and my next story. * * * * * * * Story #4 -- Not a Political Comment Several years later, I met Ariel at one of my favorite bars in Washington DC. I had been working all week and I had to work again on Sunday; but Saturday, I had the day off. I'd spent most of the day sight-seeing and ended up, as planned, at the Capitol Brewing Co. I had never been there on a Saturday night before and I was very surprised to find the place almost totally deserted. The bar is an oval-shaped island with probably a 100 bar stools. Most nights, if you weren't there by 4:30 or so, it was standing room only. But, on this particular Saturday evening, there were only three or four patrons in the whole place. Since it's in the heart of downtown DC, I guess the usual crowds are all political types and lobbyists who head home for the weekends. To Pee or Not to Pee Anyway, there was one young woman sitting on the back side of the bar entirely by herself. She (how do I say this nicely) had a rather boyish figure, but she was clearly female and the only one in the place. There were probably twenty empty bar stools on either side of her, so my choice of seating was obvious. I sat one bar stool away from her and ordered a beer. She was probably in her early 30's, with sandy blonde hair cut in a rather short "page boy." She was wearing well worn blue jeans and a western long sleeve shirt; and though I didn't notice at the time, she was probably wearing cowboy boots. She was very "Tom Boy" looking and in a city like DC, she did seem a little out of place. She was quite shy and I'm sure she felt pretty self-conscience as she was a long way from her normal environment; but after half a beer we started chatting. The place was still nearly empty and within 15 minutes I moved to the bar stool next to her. I'm not sure all what we talked about over the next two and-a-half hours, but I learned that she was from Montana, she worked for the state and was on the first "out of state" business trip in her life. I also learned that she had just recently broken up with her long-time boy friend. And who would get ownership of the house they had built together with there own hands, was still in doubt, as was custody of their German Sheppard they had raised from a pup. I can't remember the dog's name, but she sent me a photo later, and he was a good looking dog. The funny thing is that she repeatedly asked me if I knew she was girl when I sat down next to her. Well, frigging duh... I may not have known her sexual orientation, but there was never any doubt she was female. And the longer we sat and chatted and the more beers she had, the more and more apparent her sexual orientation became. After almost three hours of drinking, eating and more drinking, she excused herself to the ladies room. Eventually even a cowgirl has to break the seal. While she was gone, I paid both tabs, hers as well as mine. She was still weaving a little when she got back and protested loudly (but not for very long) that I didn't have to do that and she could pay her own tab. She exclaimed that she was on an expense account, but when I reminded her that the State of Montana was not going to pay for seven or eight rounds of beers, she quickly agreed. She tried to give me her hotel room number several times, which I declined. But as we both stood to leave, I suggested one of my famous walking tours of DC. She immediately agreed to that and off we went. I knew I was in for a very noteworthy walk, for as we reached the door of the bar, she grabbed my ass and squeezed both cheeks with the firmness of an old rancher sizing up livestock at a Montana cattle auction. Moments later when we reached the sidewalk, I held her hand to cross the street. She let go of my hand and linked her arm through mine and almost drug me across the street as she started to run. As soon as we were safely on the other opposite curb, she unhooked arms and again grabbed my ass. This time goosing me so hard I must have jumped two feet. I didn't say anything (that I remember), but I was thinking, is this anyway to pickup up a guy? Of course maybe they do it differently in Montana. We walked down to Pennsylvania Ave, through the Federal Triangle, past the Treasury Building, through Lafayette Park, in front of the north side of the White House, around that Old Executive Office Building and then down behind the south side of the White House. All the while, during my running commentary of the historical sights, she kept telling me she had to pee. Of course there were no public restrooms anywhere in sight, and I kept telling her, she'd just have to hold it. By the time we got to the Ellipse on the south side of the White House, she told me she really had to go and this was it. Though it was probably after 9:00 at night by now, the entire Ellipse was pretty well lit and I wasn't sure what she was going to do. Well, without another word, she took about five steps off the sidewalk, pulled down her jeans and popped a squat right there in front of me. I turned my back, one to give her a moment of privacy, but more importantly, to see how many people were watching us. We were only about 200 yards from the White House fence and I'm sure we were well in sight of the Secret Service. Would the Federal Government consider this a political statement, or was it just one more case of a drunken out-of-towner trying to pick up some stranger at a local bar? We weren't arrested, so I assume it must have been the latter. I did walk her back to her hotel, and despite several sincere offers, I turned down her invitation to spend the night. I was very flattered and I was attracted to her; but she was very drunk, 20 years my junior, obviously on the rebound over her boy friend, and of course I was married. We did exchange e-mails for a couple of months, but we were just ships passing in the night, and "drip dry" ones at that. * * * * * * * Isn't it ironic that as natural a bodily function as peeing is, it is still something that society demands we do in private? And obviously, when the need is urgent and privacy is lacking, some of our funniest stories come to life. From birth through adulthood, natures calling can always offer us a good laugh. I hope you enjoyed my stories and I'll leave you with thought provoking two questions: 1) Do men always stand to pee? I had a female friend ask me this once and I assured her that absolutely, other than our daily constitution, I have never known a man who didn't stand to pee. Well, now I've heard from several women who swear to me that their husband/boy friends sit to pee. Can this possibly be true? 2) Do you pee in the shower or do you know anyone that does? I heard recently on TV that peeing in the shower is common. In all my years, I have never heard of such a thing, but now I've heard from several friends who tell me, "Well, yeah ... of course I pee in the shower." Can this also be true, or are they just peeing on my leg and telling me it's raining? To Pee Or Not To Pee "Oh, fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she screamed, "Ohhhhhh, Fuck!" And then, I watched as her body gradually relaxed, her hands falling limply to her side. Her legs were still spread wide apart, and her cunt gaped open, her cuntlips red and swollen and dripping with her juices. "Oh, God!" she sighed, "I can't believe how good that was." She stared up at me. My cock was still hard and throbbing as I held it in my fist. "How much longer 'till we get there?" she whispered. "About an hour." "Can you wait until then?" she asked, "can you keep your cock hard for me until we get to the hotel?" "I...I think so," I said. "Good. I'll make it worth your while to wait. I want to feel you cum inside me. I want to feel your cock spurting it's cum into my cunt. I want you to fill my cunt with your sperm. Can you wait, baby?" I nodded. "Good. Keep your cock out, Tom," she whispered, "I want to look at it for the rest of the trip, to think what it will feel like when you fuck me. And I'll keep my legs spread for you, so you can see my cunt. And I'll keep my cunt wet until we get there, so I'll be ready for you to fuck me." I let out a little uncontrollable moan and put both my hands on the steering wheel, afraid that the slightest friction on my cock would be enough to make me cum. The next hour seemed to last forever. As we pulled off the interstate, Lisa took her bra the rest of the way off and buttoned up her blouse. She stuffed her panties in her purse and smoothed her skirt down over her legs and fastened her seatbelt. She insisted, however, that I keep my cock out until we pulled into the hotel parking lot. I felt sorry for the poor guy at the registration counter. He couldn't take his eyes off Lisa's huge breasts as they swayed and swung, braless, under her blouse, her hard little nipples trying to poke their way through the fabric. I knew I needed relief, and fast. My cock was straining against the front of my pants. It had been achingly hard now for over two hours, and it felt like it was ready to burst. I grabbed our suitcases and we headed for the elevator. I punched the button for my floor, we could worry later about getting Lisa's suitcase to her room. As the elevator door closed, Lisa reached down and pulled her skirt up to her waist. "Are you ready?" she said as she stroked her pussy with one hand, "Are you ready to fuck me?" I could only nod. "Take your cock out, baby, I want to see it again, to make sure it's still hard for me." As the elevator moved upward, I unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock. Lisa reached down and gave it a light stroke with her finger, sending a shock wave through my body. She stood in front of me as the elevator came to a halt. The door opened, and seeing no one in the hall, she motioned me forward. I picked up the suitcases and we walked down the hall to my room, my erect cock swinging back a forth as it protruded out of my pants. The moment I put the suitcases down in the room, Lisa was on me. She pulled my shirt off and undid my pants, until I was standing in front of her naked. Then as I watched, she slowly stripped. She came to me and pulled my head down and we kissed, a deep, long kiss, our tongues exploring each other's wet mouths. Her breasts pushed against me, and my cock pressed hard against her stomach. "Lisa, wait," I said as I pulled my mouth away from hers, "Wait one minute, I 'gotta pee. It's been hours." Without saying a word, she took my hand and led me into the bathroom. She pushed me back until my legs touched the toilet. Raising the lid, she made me sit. Then, she knelt in front of me. "You have to leave," I said, "I can't do it with a hard-on." "I'll wait," she said, "I'm in no hurry." "But I can't, I can't do it with you here." "I'll show you how," she whispered. Lisa stood and spread her legs on either side of mine. She moved close to me, her pussy just inches from my chest, her breasts hanging over me. I looked down and saw a small drop of liquid on her pussy lips, and then another, and then the drops formed into a trickle, and the trickle became bigger, and suddenly, her warm piss was splashing against my chest, flowing down my stomach to my crotch, saturating my pubic hair. It ran off my balls and dripped down my ass, some of it streaming into the toilet, but much of it splashing out onto the tile floor. Then Lisa suddenly squatted lower, until her gushing pussy pushed against my cock and I could feel the warm liquid spraying out over the head of my cock, flowing down its length and over my balls into the toilet. And then the flow began to subside until it became a trickle again. And when it was over, Lisa knelt in front of me again and took my cock in her hand. "Now it's your turn," she said, looking up at me, "Piss." "I don't think I..." "Piss!" she interrupted, "Piss!" My cock was throbbing and hard and pointed straight toward the ceiling. A drop of precum oozed out of it's little slit. I knew my internal plumbing wouldn't allow me to piss with my cock in that condition, but I could also feel the pressure in my bladder, full and begging to get rid of its load. I closed my eyes. I felt Lisa's warm hand around my cock. A second went by, then ten seconds, then twenty seconds. I looked down and saw a little bead of urine form at the head of my cock, mixing with the drop of precum. Then, a tiny stream of piss trickled out weakly, dripping down onto Lisa's hand. Then suddenly, I felt my cock erupt. Like a dam bursting, my piss began gushing out in a powerful, uncontrollable geyser. Lisa pulled my cock down until the stream was blasting into her face. It hit directly on her forehead, splashing up into her hair and flooding over her eyes and mouth. "Yes, baby," she cried out, "Piss on me!" My urine flew into her mouth, and bubbled out from between her lips as she spoke, flowing down her breasts and splashing out over her body. "Oh, God! Yes!" she moaned, "Piss on me!" Suddenly, Lisa stood and spread her legs. She moved herself over my cock and lowered her pussy. Now, my piss was shooting straight at her open cunt. The piss splashed off her and streamed down my cock and I could feel the warm liquid gushing over my balls. As the stream began to subside, Lisa suddenly took a step backward and lowered herself to the floor, directly in the middle of the little lake of piss we'd created there. Lying on her back, her entire body dripping with my piss, she spread her legs and looked up at me. "Fuck me now...Fuck me now...Fuck me now..." she chanted in a low, groaning voice. Her eyes had a glazed, vacant look to them. With the pressure in my bladder relieved, my only thought now was to relieve the pressure in my throbbing cock. I knelt between her legs. Bracing myself on my arms, I moved forward until the head of my cock touched the lips of her open cunt. "Yes," Lisa moaned, "Yes... Fuck me now!" I moved my hips forward and down, and in one slow, steady motion, thrust my cock deep inside her. "Oh, my God!" she screamed, "Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!" I remained still for a moment, savoring the feeling of her hot passage gripping so tightly against my cock. But I couldn't remain still for long. I drew my cock back, then began a slow in and out motion - out until the head of my cock barely remained inside her, and in until our pubic hair met. "Oh, my God! Yes! Fuck me!" she cried out. As I gradually quickened my strokes, Lisa reached down, and each time we came together I could feel her hand sandwiched between our bodies as she furiously worked on her clit. I increased the speed of my strokes, and little whimpering moans started to come out of Lisa's mouth. Her head began to roll from side to side, her hair soaking up the piss from the tile floor like a mop. As her head flew back and forth, her hair, matted and wet with urine, clung to her face, covering her eyes and clinging to her mouth. Now, her moans had turned into short, staccato screams. I continued to ram my cock in and out, knowing I couldn't last much longer. Suddenly, Lisa threw her legs around me and locked her feet together. Now, her lower body followed mine, and with each downward stroke, there was a loud splashing sound as her asscheeks slapped down into the puddle of piss beneath us. I could feel a sharp tingling sensation in my balls. The tingle spread to my cock, and suddenly I felt the first blast of cum shooting out of my cock. I let out a long, loud uncontrollable moan as I continued to pound deep into her, my cock spurting wave after wave of cum deep into her cunt. Lisa's face and chest began to blush red, and I felt a little quiver go through her body, and then the quiver became more pronounced. Her head rolled back and she let out a single, piercing scream, as her entire body quaked underneath me. As my balls emptied their last load of cum, I began to slow my strokes, and I could feel Lisa's body slowly going limp beneath me and her breathing returning to normal. I stayed deep inside her, her cum-filled passage continuing to hug me as my cock slowly deflated. A minute passed, maybe two, before I pulled out. Lisa sat up. Her hair, still matted and wet, clung to her face. Lower, her cunt gaped open, her cuntlips red and swollen. A little pool of white cum had formed at the bottom of her opening and I watched as it slowly dripped down in one long continuous string until it reached the puddle of urine on the floor. Lisa slowly stood. "I'm taking a shower," she said as she pulled a bath towel off the shelf. As she began closing the glass door of the bathtub stall behind her, she turned and looked down at me, shaking her head. "Look at the goddamn mess you made," she said with a frown, throwing the towel down in front of me, "You better start cleaning it up right now." She giggled and turned on the shower. ***** The End *****