Posted by need a name on June 01, 1997 at 03:26:03:
Sheila, for that matter, was one of the
few girls not wearing a cowboy hat, but her hemline seemed to be the standard. There's
something about a girl in cowboy boots, cowboy hat, and a mini skirt that would
probably send the Pope to confession. I was getting a whole new perspective on
Montana as kind of a happening place.
We got huge sodas and popcorns and sat through the bullshit feature. Pretty tame
stuff, and poorly done. But a decent shocker of an ending. Sheila was a cool date. She
sat pressed up against me and held my hand and squeezed real hard at the scary parts.
When it was over, we walked out and she waited while I went in to take the
mother of all pees. I was beginning to wonder what else she might have in mind and
decided then and there to carry condoms with me at all times in the future. We got in her
truck and she started driving me back to my motel. "That wasn't a bad movie," she said
after a while.
"I've seen worse," I said.
"There were a couple scary parts. I almost peed my pants when the guy came out
of the closet with the knife."
"Yeah, I've got bruises on my arm from that part."
"Sorry. You know, did you ever wonder, like people always say that, they almost
peed their pants. I always wonder what if I really did?"
"I expect it'd be wet." I hadn't really flashed yet on the entire scenario. Between
beer and soda, the girl had to have a good half gallon of liquid in her system, and unless
she had a remarkable metabolism, most of it was secure in her bladder. Or insecure,
perhaps, given the pressure it had to be exerting.
"Well, yeah," she said. "You know, I really should have gone back at the theater.
I've got to go real bad, now that I start thinking about it. Oh god, why did I have to say
that about peeing my pants?"
"Hey, you've got to go that bad, just pull over on the shoulder. I won't look."
"No, I'll wait. I hate to try peeing outside. I usually end up soaking my
underwear as bad as if I'd gone in my pants. You know, I can't get that out of my mind,
going in my pants. Not just the tactile, all warm and wet, but what about the like,
naughty girl thing? You know, here I am twenty six years old and wetting my panties
like a little girl."
"Well, if you've got to piss like you say you do, this might be your chance to find
out."
"You think so? I mean, it wouldn't just totally gross you out?"
"No. I've got a shower in my room where you could clean up after."
"God, I'm getting excited now. I might just do it. Whoa! I just did! Just a little."
"How much?"
"Enough. I'm wet. How much do I need... A little more. I'm not sure..." she took
her foot off the gas and slipped the transmission into neutral and started coasting toward
the edge of the road. There was a funny new noise that it took me a moment to identify
as coming from her crotch. She had her eyes half closed, barely watching the road, and
moaned softly. "I just let go," she whispered. "It feels soooo good." She took my hand
and put it on her soft thigh then guided it up her skirt. I gently stroked the hot and
soaking wet crotch of her soft panties; she responded by arching her crotch up to my
hand and peeing on it even more.
I could feel the effort she was making to stop pissing, and much to my surprise,
she did stop. I quit looking at her wet thighs and looked at her face, and she grinned
impishly. "You're not totally grossed out are you?"
"Not grossed out," I managed to say.
"Do you think this is kind of erotic?"
"Yes. Kind of."
"Would you like me to come to your motel and we could do this some more?
You and me?"
"I'm all pissed out."
"No, not like that. You and me together, and I wet my pants."
"Yes. But they're already wet."
"Then we could go to my place. I could put on clean clothes and pee in them."
"Okay." She put the truck in gear and did a screaming U-turn and headed back
toward the main part of town.
"I've got a confession," she said. "I kind of did this on purpose. Not from the
start, but after you got rid of those guys for me, the way you did it, it really sort of turned
me on. And I've always wanted to share peeing my pants with a guy, but who? Everyone
knows everyone around here, for hundreds of miles, and picking up on the hunters that
come through town is like an invitation to get gang raped. So here we are. You get to be
the guy. Can you imagine that I would get all excited from wetting my pants?"
"Funny you should ask that," I said. "I can. And, since we're being all candid, I
like it a lot. I've seen girls wet themselves before, and always thought it was one of the
sexiest things I've ever seen. Not like some little girl has an accident and starts to
blubber, that's just sad.
But you take a pretty young woman, all desperate, and she just can't
wait and finally accepts it and it's too much of a relief to get too upset about it, that's right
down my alley."
"Right down your alley, Huh? How about getting a little more wild than that
even?"
"Like how?"
"Like watch me dirty my pants. Not wet. Soil."
"I can think of one way that wouldn't impress me at all."
She sighed. "That's too bad. Wait, which way?"
"Well, something to do with a certain time of the month."
She was quiet for a few moments as she drove. Then suddenly she gasped. "God,
I thought I was sick! Yuck! What made you even think of that?"
"Well, I used to clean bathrooms, public bathrooms. Most of the lady's underwear
that got stuffed in the trash or down the toilets was ruined by a situation similar to the
one you're in now, or the one I believe you're proposing. But for a few days each month
business picked up for another reason."
"We can be adults about it. I wasn't even thinking about my menstrual cycle. I
was thinking about...pooping. Taking a mad dump in my panties, which I'm about to do
accidentally regardless, by the way."
"Right. That's cool by me. But, there's one thing I'm sort of curious about. You
think I might get an opportunity to hose you... er...screw you tonight? 'Cos if you do, if
that's a possible in your book, I don't have anything with me."
"Don't have any what?" she asked slowly.
"Like, rubbers."
She wheezed out a sigh of relief. "For a minute I thought you were gonna say
something about a logging accident, like you got your nuts caught in a saw."
"Oh. No."
"I think I've got some rubbers my ex boyfriend left. If I didn't throw them away..
Do they have an expiration date?"
"I don't know. Let's just stop in at a store or something."
"Wait a minute, what makes you think you're gonna need rubbers?"
"Hey, it's the nineties. You know, there's lots more serious stuff then VD these
days. You're the one I'm thinking of, I haven't exactly lead a celibate life, and it's just for
your own protection."
"Listen bub. Just because I'm wearing a short dress and hanging out with you
doesn't mean we're gonna jump in the sack right away. There's the question of what I
want to do. Maybe I just feel like sit around and talking. I like to talk. Especially to
strange men."
"That's cool with me. I'd just hate to have to interrupt a moment of passion with a
trip to the drugstore. Nothing personal."
"Well, no offense taken. And your response was polite enough that maybe we
should stop. On one condition. My skirts all wet, and it's totally obvious that I pissed my
pants. I want to go inside with you, and sort of bunch up my skirt so my panties show.
How would you like that?"
"Seems like it'd be kind of embarrassing."
"Well, you like the idea of me having pissed my panties. Maybe I like it too. I'll
tell you mine if you'll tell me yours."
"My what?"
"Your favorite panty wetters. Somewhere, you've seen a girl pee in her panties
and it drove you wild. Tell me about it. And I'll tell you about my favorite panty wetters,
girls I saw, plus my favorite times. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Well? You go first."
"Oh. Shoot. Okay. Well, I guess it probably started back when I was just out of
high school, I had a job cleaning shitters. You know, restrooms? And I'd find all this
underwear in the trash. It's not like I went rooting through the bags looking for panties to
sniff, it was just right there in front of me. On the floor, draped on the sink or the back
of a toilet. Nice little underwear, not old lady stuff or little girl stuff, but obviously the
panties off a grown woman, of a size probably I'd find attractive. Soft cotton, satin and
lace, bikinis and French cuts and string bikinis and all the cool shit you look at a girl and
hope she's got on under her clothes, there it was, with a big wet spot in the crotch and
halfway up the ass. Totally honest, I was a little squeamish about even touching
discarded panties. It's like, yuch, some girl took a piss in these and threw them away. A
few times I even got to see it happen first hand. I obviously had to close off the lady's
side while I was cleaning it, and quite a few times the extra time it took to ask me
permission to come inside was more than they could handle. Of course I was petrified of
getting in trouble somehow so I never tried to capitalize on the events when they
happened. But there was something there, undoubtedly. I saw quite a few girls pee their
pants in school, but in grade school it was just an excuse to tease them, and in high
school the hottest two babes in the entire school were also the wettest two girls. They'd
piss their pants, and woe be to anyone who gave them friction, or any other pants wetters
for that matter. It was like, a girl would pee her pants, and everyone would judiciously
avoid looking at the puddle under her chair or the dark stain on her dress. That was just
then way it was."
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