FART FANTASY

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

MARCIA'S DILEMMA DAY FOUR By Peter Love, October 1996

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Marcia awoke with a new sense of freedom. She had wanted freedom for 10 days, but the freedom she had discovered was not at all what she had expected. All she had wanted was freedom from demands of others. For the first time in her 24-year marriage she had the options of choice for an entire 24-hour period each day. This is why she had decided to stay home rather than travel with Bill to Dallas. Little did she realize how these days would change her life.
She stretched, got up and went to the bathroom and came back to bed for a few minutes. By this time she had finally come to the point where every time she had to pee she didn't have to make a panty-wetting, orgasmic production of it. Oh, it was still exciting, but it wasn't demanding. She felt she now had control over her new-found sexual stimulus rather than it having control over her. What should she do for sexual excitement today, if anything? Well, she would just play it by ear and see what happened. Perhaps Sue would come over and they could do something strange together. She chuckled at the thought, but it was just that--a wild thought that came into her mind and left just as quickly.
Suddenly it came to her that she had volunteered at Darren's and Michelle's old elementary school to help teach remedial reading to a group of children who were having trouble. "Geez, it's Tuesday and I almost forgot I have to be at school at 10. Damn!" Marcia was not a profane person nor did she have a vulgar vocabulary, but she knew all the words and when to use them effectively. She was a true lady, but under the right circumstances could come out of her cultural shell and deliver a verbal bomb. Perhaps that is why she was fun to be around--you just never knew what to expect. Mostly, she was a "geez, hell, and damn" person much to her mother's lament. "Marcia, if you are going to say geez, you might just as well say Jesus," her now- mid-sixties mother would scold.
At the school she met her new class of troubled readers. There were only four of them, and she was pleased that with only four she could really give them individual attention. Only one was a minority student and obviously ill at ease. This was going to really be a challenge both from the standpoint of the material and that she had not been in a classroom for over two years. There was no shortage of teachers or substitutes and the calls for help had diminished until it was finally zero. Marcia didn't mind because she had plenty of work at home, and these last two years she had been working two days days a week for a national market-research company.
She had dressed modestly for the tutoring, but her attire was suitable for most anything casual. As she was pulling out of the school parking lot she realized she was only 6 blocks from Sue's. The steering wheel turned in Sue's direction as if it had been robotically controlled. Had she thought before she left the house she should have given Sue and ring, but she was so absorbed in getting away on time for the orientation and the class that she just didn't think of it. "Perhaps she is home; perhaps she isn't, or is home but busy. Whatever." There was no urgency in the decision to see Sue, but she now felt a compelling warmth toward her old/new friend. She was an old friend of 7 years in the making, and a new friend of 4 days since the revelation.
Sue's little Dodge Neon was in the driveway rather than in its usual place in the garage, and Marcia guessed she was about to leave. "As long as I am here I might just as well stick my head in the door and yell hello," Marcia muttered. With about three bounds Marcia was at the front door tapping lightly with the door knocker. Marcia had always been an athletic-type person and had never had a weight problem. Good genes, I guess, as both her parents were lean and mean even in their later years. Sue welcomed her with open arms, "Where are you going all dressed up?" Marcia twisted her mouth into a little cockeyed grin which friends had learned to read as a little white fib was being hatched, "Oh, I came to see you, or are you too busy for lunch or something?" Sue looked at the clock, "Hey, its lunchtime. Why don't I make some sandwiches and we can go down to the park and gossip while we eat. I'll throw in a couple of cans of diet Coke into the cooler and we'll have an old-fashion picnic." Out the door they bounded like a couple of teen-agers. One could almost expect them to be holding hands.
They sat on a park bench overlooking the Missouri River. Marcia spread the large towel and Sue rationed out the drinks and sandwiches. "I only made one large sandwich which I thought we could share. We, well at least I, don't want to get any heavier than I already am," moaned Sue. Marcia chuckled, "Sue, you are not overweight. You haven't gained a pound since I first met you."
"Perhaps not since we met, but I am 7 stinking pounds heavier than at college graduation, but that happened right at first. I had a new job, money, and no conscience, and ate with abandonment. Twenty pounds later I looked at myself in the mirror and shuddered. Took off 13 of them, but these last 7 seem to be glued on forever," Sue moaned.
There was a long pause as they munched and sipped. Finally, Sue looked at Marcia and said, "Come on, Marcy, I know you have something on your mind because you don't usually just stop in." Marcia was silent for a few thoughtful moments and then spoke. "Sue, first of all I can't thank you enough for the wonderful help yesterday. I went to bed last night and felt as if 10 tons had been lifted from my soul. I woke up this morning feeling like a new person. What would have happened to me if it were not for you? Geez, Sue, I can say that you saved my life, or at least made life fun again. After dumping on you about my accident in John's father's car I realized for the first time since I was 17 years old that I was now truly free of that miserable load."
Sue looked at her feet and whispered, "Oh, honey, it was nothing at all. That's what friends are for. But I was wondering what would have happened if I had not been a watersport enthusiast and had been judgmental about what you had told me. It's not something that you can tell just anyone, not even your closest friend unless you have an inkling that they, too, might be interested. Supposing you had made a mistake in approaching me with your troubled mind and I had told you it was really sick behavior? That would have just about finished you because I would have confirmed in your mind Bill's assessment that enjoying peeing was sick. Believe me, when I decided to do that spa thing, it was a calculated risk on my part. When I told you that Don liked me wet, it was even a greater risk. When I told you I wanted to get into your spa fully dressed, I watched your body language for any clue to your feelings. When I told you that Don liked me wet, I watched you again, and you could not hide the excitement from my scrutiny. When we undressed your nipples were erect and very hard, and I knew it was not because you were chilly. Oh, Marcy, I knew then you were probably stuggling with what I struggled with as far back as when I was just a kid."
Marcia looked puzzled as Sue continued: "Did you think you were the only kid who got turned on by wetting their underwear or their bed? I was a bed-wetter until I was 8 and enjoyed it as a young child. However, later I came to hate it because I couldn't go to camp nor could I go to a friend's house overnight. Those fun slumber parties were out for me. Each morning I would awaken to the stench of a pee-soaked bed and the shroud of shame that accompanied it. Each morning I would awaken hoping to be dry so that I could run downstairs and joyfully tell my mother. Believe me I suffered. My last wet bed was when my cousin got to go on a neat trip with my uncle 'because she doesn't wet the bed.' For most of my life I hated the wetness and the smell of pee because it reminded me of my youthful misery. I know, you wonder how I managed to overcome this hatred of pee and get to a point where I could allow Don to pee on me. Let me tell you it wasn't easy.
"At first I had to pretend to like wet clothes, and when he asked if I would wet my panties for him I almost vomited. However, I knew by then it was very important to him and I had better do my best to get over my hang-up about pee. The first time he asked if he could pee on me I cringed inwardly, but smiled and said, 'Why not?' The thought of it was terrible, but when he did, it wasn't so bad at all, and after a half-dozen times or so I had to admit that I actually didn't mind; in fact, I kind of liked it. Oh, don't get me wrong, I am not turned on by any other man's pee, just Don's because it it part of him. Then one night we were planning to have wet sex and he asked me to sit on his stomach, face him and pee on him. I started to undress, and he grabbed my arm and said, 'Please, no, let's do it with our clothes on.' Luckily, I had not yet gone to the bathroom and emptied myself. I always did that just before sex because so often I got the urge to just relax and pee when we were making love. I was repulsed by the thought I might pee and I thought Don might be also, not giving it a thought that he might want me to soak him down as well."
"How do you want me to do it," I asked. He got on our water bed with all his clothes on, unzipped his pants and took out his penis. He didn't have any trouble locating it because it was hard as I have ever seen it. I got into position and he pulled my skirt back so that he could tuck his penis into my crotch and watch me do my stuff. As I waited to get relaxed enough to pee, I could feel the throbbing of his heartbeat in his penis between my legs, and that really turned me on. Until that moment I was just acting out his fantasy with no feeling of sexual excitement. Darn, I just couldn't relax. I tried pretending I was sitting on the toilet or anything else that might work. But it just wouldn't happen even though I felt like I was bursting. Then a thought came to me and I suggested to Don I get the vibrator out of the dresser and see if that might let me relax enough to accomplish this thing.
"I slid off my perch on his stomach and got the vibrator, plugged it in and got back into position. Don, being an electrical engineer warned me not to let the vibrator get wet because there was a good danger of electrical shock. At that time we hadn't bought our battery operated vibrator. Well, Marcy, I'll tell you that what followed was absolutely wild. I was using the vibrator and getting close to an orgasm when all of a sudden the pee began spurting out from me, and my orgasm erupted all at the same time. I know I should have pulled the electric vibrator out of my crotch, but it felt so darn good I would gladly have accepted any shock that came my way. At the same time I was spurting and cuming, the vibrator accidently came in contact with Don's penis and I think his orgasm residue was found on our bedroom ceiling. From that time on I was sold on watersports, and Don and I have grown so much closer over these years. It's not for everyone, but it sure was for us." Sue was finished with her story and both girls sat in silence.
Marcia broke it with a question: "You know, Sue, since yesterday I have been wondering why there are no support groups around the country for people like us? They have support groups for everything else so why not for those of us who are turned on by watersports, as you call it? You turned out to be my support; what about those who don't have a Sue for a friend? I'm sure there are thousands of people wandering in the same darkness as both you and I were as teen-agers as well as in our adult life. It's okay to be an alcoholic or an alcoholic's spouse and need support; it's okay to need support if you have a disabled child; it's okay to need support if you have an abusive husband, or you have been a battered, sexually-abused, child; it's okay to need support during times of grief, or if you have some particular disease or condition. If I were raped I could find a support group to help me through the rough spots and to understand what was going on in my mind; but it is evidently not okay to need support for such a benign behavior as enjoying sex and water at the same time."
"Hey, Marcy, you have and good idea there. But how could you advertise it: 'Support Group For Those Who are Intentionally Incontinent?' There should be a way, and you'll probably come up with an idea. Perhaps it could be conducted secretly by anonymous phone counselors. You just call a number and talk, like phone sex except there are no charges. Oh, I suppose some pious do-gooder would get wind of it and think he or she was doing God a big favor by exposing it or shutting it down. Long ago I came to the conclusion that God doesn't need our help, like in the Crusades. If God wanted the Holy City in the hands of Christians He could have just used some of his holy power and might and eradicated all the so-called heathen with some plague. Who are we to think we can help God? Oops, sorry, I didn't mean to get on a soapbox, but this really makes me angry at our pastor when he starts in on the horrible sin of abortion and that as Christians me must close down these abortion clinics at any cost. That's God's business not his. Geez, that enrages me. Oops, I'm beginning to use your word, geez."
Sue thought that Marcia had an excellent idea but that's probably as far as it would go. There were millions of good ideas and inventions that were conceived in man's minds but never made it past the drafting table. "Let's just keep our eyes and ears open to see if we can discover a few others who enjoy what we do. Hey, Marcy, I got a good idea. Don and I have been surfing the Net in our spare time and there are newsgroups for just about every subject. Not only that, but Don discovered by accident a Website that is 100% watersport oriented. Why couldn't there be something on the Internet that would bring people from all over the country and even the world together quietly for some type of therapy? Ah, I don't suppose it would work. There are too many weirdos around and the Net seems to have more than its share. Well, something might turn up somewhere, somehow."
The women picked up their towel and refuse, and left their scenic view to return to their respective homes. Sue was fortunate to have Don coming home to her in a few hours. Marcia had about five days to wait. As she was settling into her favorite chair to enjoy reading, her mind kept reverting to Sue's revealing how she peed on Don's stomach and how excited he was. She had to admit that the story really had turned her on. Perhaps she could go to bed tonight with her fantasy husband and do the same thing. Yes, why not? She put down her book and began to make her plans for this evening's sexual production. Why go through all that stuff with getting out the shower curtain and the towel. Why not just sit in the bathtub as though I were sitting on Bill's stomach, cum with her vibrator and just pee on herself and imaginary Bill? On the way home from their picnic, Marcia had stopped in at Walgreens and searched out the vibrators. They had a battery operated one that was shaped just like a penis, and she was embarrassed to take it up to the checkout counter. "Geez, the checkout girl will know exactly what I am going to do with it."
Right after her snacky supper which consisted only of a container of vanilla yogurt with blueberries, she begin planning her sexual frolic. "Need liquid, lots of it. I want to be bursting with excitement and the longer I pee the greater the excitment. Beer would be a big help, but only several cans this time. Too much the other night and it dulled my enjoyment," Marcia talked audibly to herself. She again dressed for Bill, because at this juncture of the new wet life, she didn't have any special garments in her own mind to enhance her excitement. She decided to just wear what she had on. Of course, Bill would like some sexy panties which in his case were not thongs or hi-cut briefs. He liked panties, and he loved to feel them on her butt and the more cloth in them the better. She had always liked pink lingerie, but so often when wearing white, the pink would show through. Now she didn't mind showing off a little of her bra or panties as long as it was in good taste, but she figured it should at least be the same color. She had a drawer full of panties because Bill never complained about her buying them no matter what the cost. She had black ones, red ones, blue ones, green ones, and one pair that was nothing but fine lace except for the cloth crotch.
She wasn't planning to get her top wet so bra and blouse were unimportant. She chose Bill's favoring pink panties and thin half-slip, but put the slip back for one that was full. She decided to go braless under the slip because the filmy, thin nylon slip felt good on her breasts and nipples when she moved. She had always liked that feeling but seldom went braless except around the house. She dressed for the occasion and continued reading her book and drinking her beer. One can, two cans, and then a third. She was getting close to the bursting point but wanted to increase her control so practiced just getting close and then tightening her holding muscles. One time she actually had to cross her legs and put her fist in her crotch to delay the action. Suddenly she felt a sneeze coming on but managed to stifle it. Finally, she was ready. Rather than hurry to her destination, she just sat there in her comfortable den chair and thought about what was going to happen. It really turned her on thinking about it, and she also loved the sexual feeling in her urethra when she repressed her urge to pee after almost losing control, even letting a little seep out. She wished she had quizzed Sue more on where to buy a garter belt and stockings. Perhaps it would excite Bill also. Well, that could come later.
She took out her new vibrator, turned it on and made sure it worked, and walked into the bathroom. No need even to shut the door. The house was hers, all hers, for whatever pleasure she chose. Standing by the tub she reached for her new vibrator and turned it on, wondering what kind of new sensations it might bring to her. She slipped it up under her slip and touched her clit with the end. "Ohwee, that felt too good and she had better take it way before she 'gasmed or peed prematurely. She stepped into the tub and decided to sit backward with the drain to her back. That way when she exploded, the warm wetness would run toward her crotch and under her butt rather than away from it. She felt a little silly looking the situation over, sitting backwards in the tub so she would get the maximum wetness in her pink panties and white slip with no bra. "Geez, I wish Bill were here to help me enjoy this. It would magnify my excitement by at least 10 times to have him as my partner in naughtiness." She tucked the front of her slip into her crotch in such a way that she could hold the vibrator on the outside of her slip and still massage her clit with it. This way she would also get her slip soaked in the front as well as the back.
She turned it on and it was nearly silent, not like their noisy old one in the dresser drawer. She wondered if the kids had ever heard it, ever found it and wondered what it was and how it was used. This new one might have been silent, but it was powerful, sending vibrations of ecstasy through her slip and panties to her waiting clit. She moaned as the orgasm began to mount, but it was too soon and she wanted to tease herself for a while more. In the next ten minutes she brought herself a dozen times to within three seconds of what she knew was going to be a gasping, head- rolling, moaning, orgasm that would even be enhanced by the release of her bladder contents as her cervix was in uncontrolled violent spasms. She felt her heart beating wildly and her breathing coming in short pants.
She pressed the vibrator back into her crotch for yet another tease, but this time there was no tease to be had. The vibrator had sensitized her clit to the point by this time that all that was necessary was for it to be touched. Her finger could perhaps have done the same thing. She threw her head back and moaned loudly as the spasms began. No one could hear her; no one knew what was happening except her. About the second spasm she realized her goal of peeing during her orgasm was about to not happen and she uttered one of her unusual swear words. But by the third spasm she was spurting pee all over the tub while she was experiencing so many spasms that she just knew there had to have been at least ten of them. As the spasms came to an end, she felt as though she had just done a day's work in a few minutes. Her body was limp and wet. She looked down at her now-transparent slip and it was soaked from her waist down. She lifted it and looked at her panties. Pink was a good color for wetness because it showed off the wetness against her skin better than white ones. She wanted to not only feel the wetness but to see it as well.
As she sat there in the tub enjoying what she saw and mulling the memories of the past half hour, she decided that was not going to be the end, but rather the beginning. She pulled up her wet slip so that she could place the vibrator on her wet panties and give it another try. Within ten seconds she was in the throes of another orgasm. She continued this until she had counted ten, and her vagina was getting too tender for more. She turned on the shower, totally soaking herself and noticing how big and erect her nipples were, sticking out like thumbs from beneath her slip. She wondered why she had neglected them earlier when she was teasing herself, but decided she had been too busy trying to concentrate on the simultaneous pee and 'gasm. Next time she would give her breasts a treat and include them in the foreplay. Of course, Bill, was always anxious to help her in that department. Sometimes he would just massage her breasts and nipples until she had an orgasm or two, and then they would seek their pleasures together in any way either of them chose. Sometimes it was the vibrator; sometimes it was by hand; sometimes it was by tongue, sometimes it was penis/vaginal sex, and sometimes it was all of these. Marcia marvelled at how she had lost her inhibitions over activities of sex that would have totally shocked her mother.
The only sex advice she had gotten from her mother was just before she and Bill were married. She was visiting her mother back in Cleveland at Christmas and was in her mother's kitchen. Her father left for some unknown reason, perhaps it was even planned, and her mother became stern-faced and pointed to one of the chairs. "Sit," her mother spoke in a tone that one would use to command a dog, then continued, "I have one piece of advice for you and that is that whatever Bill wants in bed, give it to him no matter how repulsive it might be to you. If you don't, he is going to go elsewhere to get it." She wondered what in the world her mother had done or was doing that she found so distasteful to come up with advice like that. Marcia wanted to ask, but decided against upsetting her mom more than she already had. Perhaps dad had asked her for a blow job or something other thing she thought was obscene. To her mother, perhaps anything other than the "missionary position" was outside of God's intentions for man. Marcia remembered a flyer tucked under her windshield wiper blade in a mall parking lot. It was printed on crimson paper and began in headline type, "God Abhors Oral Sex" and went on to add that God also abhorred any position that was not natural to mankind." Therefore, she knew there were people like her mother and whoever stuck the flying under her wiper blade who had these crazy notions.
Marcia had to stifle a chuckle. Geez, she and Bill had been having sex since the night of her high school graduation. There was a party at one of her classmates homes and his parents had left for their lake cabin and had given the kids total freedom. It was announced after much drinking and dancing, flirting and touching that all virgins were supposed to be deflowered in the bedroom. It appeared that no one took this seriously and Bill and Marcia had waited until after the party and had one of their own. Bill noticed that Marcia did not have a hymen, and wondered what had happened, but he was not about to ask. Perhaps it was with John before they broke up. Bill didn't know that Marcia was a true virgin and that the absence of a hymen did not always signify the loss of virginity. Athletic girls often had theirs rupture during strenuous physical activity. Not knowing this, many a man questioned his partner's truthfulness that he was #1 and that this was her first time. Bill was not a virgin so why should he expect his love to be?
If they were going to be sexually active they had better be responsible. A pregnancy at this point could bring to a halt one or both of their educations. Marcia went to Planned Parenthood and was put on "the pill." She marvelled at their attitude toward sex and their kindness toward the girls. They stressed responsibility and told her of the dangers of STD (sexually- transmitted diseases). Bill had told Marcia about his two sexual experiences before her. The first was a disaster, and the second not much better. In both cases it was pure passion on the part of both partners. Teenage lust, Bill called it. With Marcia and Bill it had been different the very first time. They just gave themselves to each other with the thought of giving rather than getting. They agreed that neither would have intimate sex with anyone else no matter what the circumstances. If either couldn't be trusted now, they could not be trusted later. If either stepped out of line it was the end of the relationship. And that's the way it had been during all the 24 years of their marriage. Both had received numerous interesting proposition, but had turned them down. They knew others who swapped mates and had one-night stands. That was not their business and didn't make it such, neither were they judgmental.
Marcia didn't have an orgasm that first night, but if she could have had a few "pleasure spurts" she was certain it would have happened. However, the memory of John's tirade about peeing in the car clamped a lid on that idea. The first time it had been awkward lying on the floor of Bill's VW microbus while people walked past. The second time they were at Marcia's friend's house and did more playing around. They hugged, kissed, fondled each other's genitals, and Marsh told Bill she loved to have her nipples sucked, kissed, and rubbed. Finally Bill inserted his penis slowly so that Marsh would not be hurt. They were both so well lubricated by this time that it just slid into place without effort. Bill came first after a slow rhythmic motion while Marcia was groaning with delight. As Marcia felt Bill's penis pulsing and spurting inside her it just all happened at once. Wham! An orgasm of great length and intensity exploded. It left them both limp and panting. So, it was obvious they gotten off to a good beginning in their sex lives.

End of Day Four

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