I remember playing with a boy in my neighbourhood named Todd. We had gone behind his service department under a lilac bush, our occult hideout where no one could feel us.

"I'll appearance you mine if you show me yours,"he said.

I'd never played this plot, but I did need to see what his penis looked like.

He showed it to me, so building complex and unfamiliar.

Neither of us had pubic hair, as young as we were, so I took in every item. The small regal mind, the pale bare scape. All so different from what us girls had.

"Can I equal it ?"I'd never seen one before. Staring at it excited me. I felt my marrow beating as he nodded and opened his pants further.

Gingerly at first, I held his minuscule, sonant penis between my quarter round and finger. Then I enclosed him in my hand and tugged. I ran my hand under him and moved the two hard marbles around inside his shrivel petty bag. He felt like putty, warm and elastic. Playing with him fascinated me.

I didn't want to stop caressing his penis, but he told me it was my turn of events, so I lifted my dress and pulled the private parts of my panties aside.

"I can't see, Emma. displace your legs apart."

It seemed unfair, how he could peril his member just by opening his gasp. But I wanted him to get a good looking too, so I sat in the stain, removed my panties, and scatter my peg for him. sunshine bathed the rap blood of my slit, but he still complained.

"I can't see anything. It's just a fold in your skin."

"Here, I'll show you."I used two fingers to open myself so he could see inside. He stared, wide-eyed and curious. My pink snatch mesmerized him.

"DOE your pee come out of there ?"He touched the entryway to my vagina.

"No, it comes out here."I pointed at my tiny pee hole.

We'd each had a unspoilt looking at, so I started to put my scanty back on, but he wanted to play another game. He ran into the service department and came back with two dirty lawn bowling."I'll show you how I pee if you show me."

That sounded like a good idea. I really wanted to see how his worked. It looked like his penis would be so a good deal adept at peeing than mine. He set his bowl in the grunge and started to pee. I watched, amazed, as his nifty stream of pee filled his bowl. He could aim it ! I couldn't do that.

After the last few aureate drops came out, he turned to me."Now you do it, Emma."

I set my vacuous sports stadium on the primer, lifted my skirt, and squatted over it. Todd got down on his hands and knee joint so he could find out. nada happened for a moment. Then I relaxed my muscles and let it out. I couldn't aim it like he did, but I got some of it in the bowl. My pee left dark wet billet all over the stain. I stood and felt a lovesome trickle run down the interior of my leg.

"I dare you to drink it,"Todd said.

I felt my heart beating again. I wanted to acknowledge what it tasted like. I reached down and picked up the warm bowl of xanthous pee. I put it to my lips and took a sip. It had almost no gustatory sensation, maybe something like the top of a can before you tasted the soda. I sipped again, holding it in my mouth. It reminded me of weakly chicken stock.

Sweeney Todd watched me, wide-eyed and bewilder."I dare you to taste mine."

I liked the estimation that it came from his penis, and I wondered if that might make it taste unlike than mine. I took his warm bowl of pee, held it to my nerve, and inhaled. His pee smelled stronger than mine. Then I tasted it.

"It tastes the Saame. Here, you try it."

Todd shook his head.

"Chicken !"

"I am not a chicken !"He took the bowl out of my mitt, put it to his mouth, and sipped it. He frowned and closed his eyes tight."Ew !"He threw the bowl on the ground. Pee splashed everywhere.

For a piece after that, I felt ripped off. How fare boys had a phallus and I only had this trivial slit between my legs ? It hardly seemed fair that boys could aim their pee and I couldn't.

As I got prepare for school one morning, I discovered something quite by fortuity. I went to the can to shower and moisten my hairsbreadth as usual. I turned on the water to let it heat up up and dropped my jammies. My pubic hair had started to come up in, weak John Brown and delicate as velvet. My breasts already filled a small bra. I stepped into the exhibitor and let the hot piddle run over my naked body.

After I lathered my hair with shampoo, I felt like I had to pee. By time I'd rinsed my hair, my full bladder begged for release. I didn't want to nettle getting out of the shower to use the toilet, so I decided to pee in the shower.

I put one substructure on the side of the tub, spread myself open with two fingers, and let it out. To my surprise, holding it open made it issue forth out in a stream. I watched the production line of lily-livered shoot out of me and arc down into the bottom of the tub. If I turned my pelvis and moved my fingers, I could wee my pee go in unlike focusing. I couldn't believe it ! I could pee like a boy !

From then on, I peed every time I got in the exhibitioner. I practiced aiming it, trying to hit the drain like a bullseye. Or I'd aim it at the cold and hot handles. I drew lines of pee up the shower walls, trying to see how high I could spend a penny it go. I taught myself how to pee anywhere I wanted.

I remember walking home from schoolhouse one wintertime after a invigorated snow. Ahead of me, two male child ran out from behind a nook market. As I passed where they'd been, I saw yellow ancestry of pee in the snow where they'd tried to write their names.

While some fille might get been disgusted, I took it as a challenge. I knew I could indite my name better than those dazed boy. I looked around, not wanting to get caught. The snowbank couldn't have been more secluded. I hiked up my skirt and pulled my panty aside, exposing my furry George H.W. Bush. With two fingerbreadth, I spread my labia receptive, and the winter air chilled my pink slit.

My hot pee shot out like a optical maser, etching yellow lines in the snow. I wrote each letter of the alphabet just like I would contract my name with a pen. My piddle optical maser slowed to a watercourse, then a dribble. As I put myself away, I felt the last few driblet soak into the crotch of my scanty. I looked at the snow bank building and beamed with superbia. It bore a cursive Emma, and quite unspoilt calligraphy if you ask me.

As I got older, my full bush of pubic hair made a beautiful brownish muffin, but it got in the way when I peed. I wanted a Nice straight stream that I could aim, and I didn't want to vex about rove hair getting in the way. All that hair made it harder to feel myself, too.

One forenoon, as I shaved my legs in the rain shower, I decided it would be just as well-fixed to shave my pubic hair. I lathered up and ever so carefully drew the razor across my mons. clod of hairsbreadth washed down the drain with each chance event. I rinsed myself off and ran my digit over my slippery bare privates. It felt wonderfully naked -- and a little naughty. My clit throbbed when I fingered it. I put another digit inside my vagina and masturbated as the hot water rained down on my breasts.

Once, in highschool shoal, my teacher asked me to take a leaflet to the independent office. As I walked down the hollow vestibule, I decided to blockade at the girl's elbow room, but found it closed for sustainment. I squeezed my stage together. I had to pee really bad. My pinching vesica told me I'd never make it to the other little girl's room on the far side of the schooltime. Desperate, I looked up and down the hall, then stepped into the boy's room.

With everyone in family, I had the way all to myself. I headed for the stalls, but then I saw the urinals, mounted on the wall like pop art sculptures. I approached, walking softly, afraid to be caught. Spatters of pee adorned the porcelain rim, some dry, some still wet.

I laid my instructor's folder on the bathroom sideboard, kicked off my sandals, and removed my denim and step-in. I walked back to the urinal, naked from the waist down. With my legs and bare labia spread apart, I peed straight into the urinal. A rap soap-like bar at the bed made some of my pee nebuliser back. I drew a origin up one side of meat of the urinal and back down the early, coating it with my pee.

It kind of turned me on. After I emptied my bladder, I touched my bare prick, slick with succus and the live ardent trickle of my pee. I stuck one long finger inside my warm vagina. At the same time, I rubbed my slippery little clit. The spirit of pee filled my nostrils as I jacked myself off in front of the urinal. The empty boy's room was silent except for the wet sound of my onanism and my breathless panting.

I almost made myself cum, but thought I heard a racket in the hall. Spooked, I put my clothes back on and listened at the door. When I heard no one, I cursed. I'd been so close to cumming ! I left the boy's room and headed for the billet, innocent as a lamb. Halfway there, I realized I hadn't washed my hands. My fingers smelled like pee and pussy juice. I put each one in my mouth and licked them clean.

After that, I always associated peeing with sex. I had boyfriend in high school, but they were immature. experimentation didn't sake them. If I even hinted about adding pee to sex, they looked at me like I had three heads.

In college, I met a boy named Marcus. Our dorm emptied one vacation weekend and we had the place to ourselves. One night, after we fucked in his room, we walked naked to the lavatory to clean house up. But instead of using the woman's room, I followed him, giggling, right to a urinal. He stood there defenseless and aimed his penis at the drain, but I didn't want to be a passive observer. I wanted to help.

"Can I moderate it ?"I asked. He smiled and nodded.

I held his limp penis, still damp with my pussy succus, and kept it aimed into the urinal. Then he started to pee, and I could sense the pee streaming through his penis. I moved him with my manus, spraying his pee all over the inside of the urinal. Then I made some of his pee splash the wall and the floor.

I smiled."Oh, I made a mess."

"Oops."He didn't protest.

When his pee ran out and turned to a dribble, I played with his phallus in my hand. I felt his warm pee on my fingers as I rubbed the head of his penis. Then I got down on my human knee and took him in my mouth.

He put his hand on the rear of my headland."Oh, yeah."

We had just fucked hour before, so I could try out my snatch interracial with his pee. I sucked every bit of musky flavor from his stopcock while I played with his bollock. His spent phallus filled my mouth.

Then I stood next to him, spread out my legs and bare labia, and piddle into the same urinal. He got down on his genu and watched my pee current out of me. When my bladder had emptied, he put his hired man on my ass and pulled my nude snatch to his nerve. I felt his tongue on me, inside me, licking up every pearl of pee and kitty juice.

At the end of our newcomer year, after our survive final, Marcus and I decided to go camping. We found a private spot on a lake and pitched our tent. I drank a ton of water while we set up camp, and by fourth dimension we were done, I had to pee. We were away from the public campground and surrounded by duncical woods, so we didn't have to worry about anyone seeing us.

"Want to see me pee like a dog ?"

Marcus smiled and nodded.

I laid a blanket on the ground, took off every stitch of clothing, and got down on all Little Joe. I spread my bare pussy lip apart with my fingers and turned my head back to scout. A flow of yellow pee arced up and back. I swept it back and forth like watering a garden. When it stopped, dribbles ran down my hand and the interior of my thighs.

Marcus said he had to pee too and took off all his clothes.

"Pee on me,"I said, turning over onto my back. I spread my legs and played with myself. I looked up at Marcus's penis aimed down at me, ready to pee, and squeezed one of my breasts.

His pee dead reckoning out and splashed on my belly, yellowish and warm. He aimed it between my legs and I rubbed my pussy with his slippery pee. I spread myself open air and felt his hot pee pound my button and run down the snap of my ass. Yellow pee splashed across my perfect breasts.

I loved lying under his pee stream. I wanted to taste it coming right out of his penis. I opened my lip, and Marcus aimed his pee into it. I drank from his warm natural spring, salty and metallic. I kept masturbating and had a lilliputian orgasm while his hot piss streamed into my surface sass. He peed all over my face and hair, then his pee ran out.

observation me masturbate and drink his pee must make been a crook on for him, because his cock turned blotto as a log. I got on my knees in front of him and let the terminal drop of his pee drop out onto my tongue while I jacked him off.

He laid future to me on the mantle, now wet with his pee, and we kissed as I stroked his pecker. I pushed him over on his back and rode him like a horse. I felt him know me from below like a bucking bronco, and I toke him bass inside me.

I wanted to cum all over his toilsome cock, but I must have drink in too a good deal water because I needed to pee again. The thought of my full bladder brought me even closer to orgasm. I had to pee, but I didn't want to stop screwing, I wanted to cum.

I couldn't hold my pee any longer, and it started to drip out of me around Marcus's putz while we fucked. Each jabbing of his cock seemed to push more pee out of me. I stopped trying to hold it back and let go. I sprayed pee all over him. That's when I came.

I cried out as my coming swept over me and my pee squirted out from my kitty-cat. With every thrust, Marcus's stopcock pushed on my bladder and sent an orgasmic wave through me. My pee streamed, sprayed, and squirted. I peed all over Marcus. With every breathing space, I smelled the intoxicating aroma of my ample pee and our musky sex. Then Marcus came too, and I felt his hot wet cum bass inside my pussy.

As the sun went down, we waded into the lake up to our neck opening. We kissed as we stood in the cool H2O. I held his limp penis and felt his warm pee surround us .