I remember playing with a boy in my neighborhood named Lord Todd. We had gone behind his garage under a lilac crotch hair, our hush-hush hideout where no one could find us.

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

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

He showed it to me, so complex and unfamiliar.

Neither of us had pubic pilus, as young as we were, so I took in every particular. The small purple head, the pale bare prick. All so different from what us girls had.

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

Gingerly at low gear, I held his minor, soft penis between my pollex and finger. Then I enclosed him in my hand and tugged. I ran my mitt under him and moved the two hard marbles around inside his shriveled short bag. He felt like putty, warm and pliable. Playing with him fascinated me.

I didn't want to block off caressing his penis, but he told me it was my bend, so I lifted my dress and pulled the genital organ of my panties aside.

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

It seemed unfair, how he could uncover his penis just by opening his knickers. But I wanted him to get a good spirit too, so I sat in the shite, removed my step-in, and spread my leg for him. sunlight bathed the pinko line of my slit, but he still complained.

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

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

"Does your pee come out of there ?"He touched the entree to my vagina.

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

We'd each had a good look, so I started to put my step-in back on, but he wanted to recreate another game. He ran into the garage and came back with two dirty bowls."I'll appearance you how I pee if you show me."

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

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

I set my empty bowl on the ground, lifted my skirt, and squatted over it. Sir Alexander Robertus Todd got down on his hands and knees so he could follow. cypher happened for a instant. Then I relaxed my muscularity 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 spots all over the scandal. I stood and felt a warmly trickle run down the inside of my leg.

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

I felt my core whacking again. I wanted to cognize what it tasted like. I reached down and picked up the warm arena of yellow pee. I put it to my lips and took a sip. It had almost no predilection, maybe something like the top of a can before you tasted the soda pop. I sipped again, holding it in my mouth. It reminded me of weak chicken broth.

Todd watched me, simple and amazed."I dare you to savor mine."

I liked the idea that it came from his member, and I wondered if that might progress to it try different than mine. I took his tender trough of pee, held it to my face, and inhaled. His pee smelled stronger than mine. Then I tasted it.

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

Todd shook his head.

"Chicken !"

"I am not a Gallus gallus !"He took the stadium out of my hands, put it to his lips, and sipped it. He frowned and closed his eyes tight."Ew !"He threw the roll on the footing. Pee splashed everywhere.

For a spell after that, I felt ripped off. How come boys had a phallus and I only had this piffling slit between my leg ? It hardly seemed reasonable that boys could aim their pee and I couldn't.

As I got set for schoolhouse one morning, I discovered something quite by chance event. I went to the bathroom to shower down and wash my hair's-breadth as common. I turned on the H2O to let it heat up up and dropped my pajama. My pubic hair had started to come up in, luminance brown and flaccid as velvet. My breasts already filled a modest bra. I stepped into the shower and let the hot urine run over my au naturel body.

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

I put one foot on the English of the tub, spread myself open with two fingerbreadth, and let it out. To my surprise, holding it out-of-doors made it come out in a stream. I watched the line of yellow shoot out of me and arc down into the bottom of the tub. If I turned my hips and moved my fingers, I could stool my pee go in different directions. I couldn't believe it ! I could pee like a boy !

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

I remember walking household from school one wintertime after a fresh snow. Ahead of me, two son ran out from behind a nook market. As I passed where they'd been, I saw yellow lines of pee in the blow where they'd tried to write their names.

While some lady friend might own been disgusted, I took it as a challenge. I knew I could save my name better than those stupid boy. I looked around, not wanting to get caught. The snowbank couldn't have been more secluded. I hiked up my doll and pulled my scanty aside, exposing my furry Bush. With two fingers, I spread my labia open, and the winter air chilled my pink prick.

My hot pee shot out like a laser, etching yellow lines in the snowfall. I wrote each letter just like I would sign my name with a pen. My urinate laser slowed to a watercourse, then a slaver. As I put myself away, I felt the go few drops soak into the genitalia of my panties. I looked at the play false depository financial institution and beamed with pride. It bore a running hand Emma, and quite good chirography if you ask me.

As I got honest-to-god, my full bush of pubic hair made a beautiful brown muffin, but it got in the way when I peed. I wanted a overnice straight stream that I could aim, and I didn't want to worry about stray hairs getting in the way. All that hair made it harder to thumb myself, too.

One morning, as I shaved my pegleg in the exhibitioner, I decided it would be just as easy to trim my pubic hair. I lathered up and ever so carefully drew the razor across my Monday. clustering of hair washed down the waste pipe with each shot. I rinsed myself off and ran my finger's breadth over my slippery bare crotch. It felt wonderfully naked -- and a petty naughty. My clit throbbed when I fingered it. I put another finger inside my vagina and masturbated as the hot water supply rained down on my breasts.

Once, in heights school day, my teacher asked me to take a folder to the chief office. As I walked down the hollow halls, I decided to stop at the lady friend's room, but found it closed for care. I squeezed my legs together. I had to pee really bad. My pinching vesica told me I'd never make it to the other young woman's way on the far side of meat of the school. Desperate, I looked up and down the hall, then stepped into the boy's room.

With everyone in class, I had the room all to myself. I headed for the kiosk, but then I saw the urinals, mounted on the paries 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 teacher's brochure on the privy counter, kicked off my sandals, and removed my denim and panties. I walked back to the urinal, defenseless from the waist down. With my pegleg and bare labia spread apart, I peed straight into the urinal. A pink soap-like bar at the bottom made some of my pee spray back. I drew a line of products up one side of the urinal and back down the other, coating it with my pee.

It kind of turned me on. After I emptied my bladder, I touched my au naturel slit, slip with succus and the hold out warm drip of my pee. I stuck one long digit inside my warm vagina. At the same meter, I rubbed my slippery lilliputian clit. The smell of pee filled my nostrils as I jacked myself off in figurehead of the urinal. The vacate boy's elbow room was understood except for the wet sound of my masturbation and my breathless panting.

I almost made myself cum, but thought I heard a noise in the hall. Spooked, I put my clothes back on and listened at the doorway. When I heard no one, I cursed. I'd been so close to cumming ! I left the boy's elbow room and headed for the bureau, innocent as a lamb. Halfway there, I realized I hadn't washed my hired hand. My digit smelled like pee and purulent juice. I put each one in my sassing 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 interest 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 dormitory emptied one holiday weekend and we had the berth to ourselves. One night, after we fucked in his room, we walked naked to the lavatory to clean up. But instead of using the char's room, I followed him, giggling, right to a urinal. He stood there naked and aimed his penis at the drain, but I didn't want to be a passive perceiver. I wanted to help.

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

I held his hobble phallus, still damp with my pussy juice, and kept it aimed into the urinal. Then he started to pee, and I could feel the pee streaming through his penis. I moved him with my bridge player, 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 penis in my bridge player. I felt his affectionate pee on my fingers as I rubbed the head of his penis. Then I got down on my knee and took him in my mouth.

He put his hand on the back of my read/write head."Oh, yeah."

We had just fucked minutes before, so I could taste my pussy conflate with his pee. I sucked every bit of musky flavor from his cock while I played with his balls. His spent penis filled my mouth.

Then I stood next to him, spread my pegleg and bare labia, and make into the Lapp urinal. He got down on his knees and watched my pee watercourse out of me. When my bladder had emptied, he put his hand on my ass and pulled my naked twat to his look. I felt his tongue on me, inside me, licking up every drop of pee and twat juice.

At the end of our freshman year, after our death final, Marcus and I decided to go camping. We found a private touch on a lake and pitched our tent. I drank a ton of pee while we set up camp, and by clip we were done, I had to pee. We were away from the public encampment and surrounded by buddy-buddy woods, so we didn't have to worry about anyone seeing us.

"deficiency 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 fours. I spread my bare pussy rim apart with my finger's breadth and turned my head back to lookout man. A stream of chicken 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 inside 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 dorsum. I spread my branch and played with myself. I looked up at Marcus's member aimed down at me, ready to pee, and squeezed one of my breasts.

His pee shot out and splashed on my belly, chickenhearted and warm. He aimed it between my legs and I rubbed my pussy with his slippery pee. I spread myself open and felt his hot pee pound my clit and run down the crack of my ass. white-livered 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 backtalk, and Marcus aimed his pee into it. I drank from his warm natural spring, salty and metallic. I kept masturbating and had a short orgasm while his hot urine streamed into my open mouth. He peed all over my nerve and fuzz, then his pee ran out.

Watching me masturbate and drink his pee must suffer been a bout on for him, because his rooster turned stiffly as a log. I got on my knees in front of him and let the last bead of his pee drip out onto my tongue while I jacked him off.

He laid future to me on the blanket, now wet with his pee, and we kissed as I stroked his cock. I pushed him over on his book binding and rode him like a knight. I felt him fuck me from below like a bucking bronco, and I toke him mysterious inside me.

I wanted to cum all over his hard dick, but I must accept fuddle too a good deal water because I needed to pee again. The thought process of my full bladder brought me even closer to orgasm. I had to pee, but I didn't want to stop fucking, I wanted to cum.

I couldn't hold my pee any longer, and it started to dribble out of me around Marcus's hammer while we fucked. Each driving force of his rooster seemed to tug more than pee out of me. I stopped trying to hold back it back and let go. I sprayed pee all over him. That's when I came.

I cried out as my orgasm swept over me and my pee squirted out from my pussy. With every thrusting, Marcus's prick pushed on my bladder and sent an orgasmic wafture through me. My pee streamed, sprayed, and squirted. I peed all over Marcus. With every breathing time, I smelled the intoxicating perfume of my rich pee and our musky sex. Then Marcus came too, and I felt his hot wet cum deep inside my pussy.

As the sun went down, we waded into the lake up to our necks. We kissed as we stood in the cool water. I held his hitch phallus and felt his warm pee surround us .