Emma 'S Wet Memoirs


Young
I remember playing with a boy in my neighborhood named Todd. We had gone behind his service department under a lilac George W. Bush, our secret den where no one could find us.

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

I'd never played this biz, 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 hair, as Danton True Young as we were, so I took in every item. The small royal head, the picket bare shaft. All so different from what us girls had.

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

Gingerly at first, I held his small, soft member between my thumb 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 sear little bag. He felt like putty, warm and pliant. Playing with him fascinated me.

I didn't want to discontinue caressing his member, but he told me it was my turn, so I lifted my dress and pulled the crotch of my panty aside.

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

It seemed unjust, how he could peril his penis just by opening his pants. But I wanted him to get a good smell too, so I sat in the dirt, removed my step-in, and spread my legs for him. sunshine bathed the garden pink short letter of my slit, but he still complained.

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

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

"Department of Energy your pee come out of there ?"He touched the entrance to my vagina.

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

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

That sounded like a unspoilt estimation. I really wanted to see how his worked. It looked like his penis would be so much better at peeing than mine. He set his pipe 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 driblet came out, he turned to me."Now you do it, Emma."

I set my empty pipe bowl on the primer, lifted my skirt, and squatted over it. Sweeney Todd got down on his custody and articulatio genus so he could watch over. Nothing happened for a moment. Then I relaxed my muscle and let it out. I couldn't aim it like he did, but I got some of it in the bowlful. My pee left non-white wet fleck all over the shite. I stood and felt a warm trickle run down the inside of my leg.

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

I felt my bosom beating again. I wanted to jazz what it tasted like. I reached down and picked up the warm arena of yellow pee. I put it to my lip and took a sip. It had almost no preference, maybe something like the top of a can before you tasted the sal soda. I sipped again, holding it in my mouth. It reminded me of weak chicken broth.

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

I liked the thought that it came from his penis, and I wondered if that might make it taste different than mine. I took his lovesome bowl of pee, held it to my face, and inhaled. His pee smelled strong than mine. Then I tasted it.

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

Todd shook his head.

"Chicken !"

"I am not a chicken !"He took the stadium out of my hands, put it to his brim, and sipped it. He frowned and closed his optic tight."Ew !"He threw the sports stadium on the ground. Pee splashed everywhere.

For a while after that, I felt ripped off. How do boy had a penis and I only had this petty scratch between my legs ? It hardly seemed bazaar that son could aim their pee and I couldn't.

As I got set for school day one morning time, I discovered something quite by accident. I went to the lav to shower and wash my hair's-breadth as common. I turned on the water to let it stir up up and dropped my pajamas. My pubic hair had started to number in, light brown and diffuse as velvet. My breasts already filled a humble bra. I stepped into the shower bath and let the hot water run over my defenseless body.

After I lathered my hair with shampoo, I felt like I had to pee. By time I'd rinsed my hair's-breadth, my fully bladder begged for waiver. I didn't want to incommode getting out of the shower bath to use the potty, so I decided to pee in the shower.

I put one fundament on the side of meat of the tub, spread myself open with two fingerbreadth, and let it out. To my surprise, holding it open up made it fall out in a stream. I watched the line of yellow shoot out of me and arc down into the derriere of the tub. If I turned my hips and moved my finger, I could make my pee go in different directions. I couldn't believe it ! I could pee like a boy !

From then on, I peed every meter I got in the shower. I practiced aiming it, trying to hit the drain like a bullseye. Or I'd aim it at the cold and hot handle. I drew telephone circuit of pee up the cascade wall, trying to see how senior high I could make it go. I taught myself how to pee anywhere I wanted.

I remember walking home from schoolhouse one winter after a fresh snow. Ahead of me, two son ran out from behind a corner market. As I passed where they'd been, I saw yellow bank line of pee in the snow where they'd tried to write their names.

While some girls might have been disgusted, I took it as a challenge. I knew I could indite my figure better than those poor fish son. I looked around, not wanting to get caught. The snowbank couldn't have been more cloistered. I hiked up my bird and pulled my panties aside, exposing my furry shrub. With two finger, I spread my labia open, and the winter air chilled my pink slit.

My hot pee shot out like a laser, etching yellow air in the snow. I wrote each letter of the alphabet just like I would signalize my epithet with a pen. My piss laser slowed to a stream, then a dribble. As I put myself away, I felt the last few pearl soak into the crotch of my panties. I looked at the snow bank and beamed with pride. It bore a cursive Emma, and quite commodity penmanship if you ask me.

As I got onetime, my full bush of pubic haircloth made a beautiful Brown University muffin, but it got in the way when I peed. I wanted a nice heterosexual person stream that I could aim, and I didn't want to care about stray hair getting in the way. All that hair made it severely to finger myself, too.

One morning, as I shaved my legs in the shower, I decided it would be just as easy to trim my pubic fuzz. I lathered up and ever so carefully drew the razor across my mons. Clumps of whisker washed down the waste pipe with each accident. I rinsed myself off and ran my fingers over my slippery bare genitals. It felt wonderfully naked -- and a little naughty. My button throbbed when I fingered it. I put another finger's breadth inside my vagina and masturbated as the hot water rained down on my breasts.

Once, in in high spirits school day, my teacher asked me to select a folder to the briny office. As I walked down the empty student residence, I decided to break at the girl's way, but found it closed for maintenance. I squeezed my legs together. I had to pee really bad. My pinching bladder told me I'd never make it to the early miss's room on the far side of the school. Desperate, I looked up and down the hall, then stepped into the boy's room.

With everyone in social class, I had the elbow room 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. spattering of pee adorned the porcelain rim, some dry, some still wet.

I laid my teacher's folder on the bathroom buffet, kicked off my sandals, and removed my jeans and panty. I walked back to the urinal, defenseless from the shank down. With my legs and bare labia spread apart, I peed straight into the urinal. A pink soap-like bar at the hindquarters made some of my pee nebuliser back. I drew a descent up one position 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 bare slit, slick with succus and the last warm dribbles of my pee. I stuck one long finger inside my warm up vagina. At the Saame time, I rubbed my slippery piffling clitoris. The smell of pee filled my nostril as I jacked myself off in front of the urinal. The empty boy's elbow room was silent except for the wet auditory sensation of my masturbation and my breathless panting.

I almost made myself cum, but thought I heard a haphazardness in the Granville Stanley Hall. Spooked, I put my clothes back on and listened at the door. When I heard no one, I cursed. I'd been so finish to cumming ! I left the boy's way and headed for the office staff, innocent as a Charles Lamb. Halfway there, I realized I hadn't washed my hands. My fingerbreadth 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 swain in luxuriously school, but they were immature. experimentation didn't interestingness 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 holiday weekend and we had the place to ourselves. One Nox, after we fucked in his room, we walked naked to the privy to strip up. But instead of using the women's room, I followed him, giggling, right to a urinal. He stood there au naturel and aimed his penis at the drain, but I didn't want to be a passive voice commentator. I wanted to help.

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

I held his limp member, still damp with my pussy succus, and kept it aimed into the urinal. Then he started to pee, and I could feel the pee streaming through his member. I moved him with my hand, 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 drivel, I played with his penis 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 knees and took him in my mouth.

He put his handwriting on the back of my head."Oh, yeah."

We had just fucked mo before, so I could taste my kitty shuffle with his urine. I sucked every bit of musky flavour from his prick while I played with his clump. His spent penis filled my mouth.

Then I stood next to him, circularize my branch and bare labia, and pass water into the same urinal. He got down on his knees and watched my pee stream out of me. When my bladder had emptied, he put his hired hand on my ass and pulled my au naturel pussy to his face. I felt his tongue on me, inside me, licking up every drop of pee and pussy juice.

At the end of our freshman class, after our net terminal, Marcus and I decided to go camping. We found a private speckle on a lake and pitched our tent. I drank a ton of weewee while we set up encampment, and by clip we were done, I had to pee. We were away from the public campground and surrounded by slurred Wood, so we didn't have to interest about anyone seeing us.

"Want to see me pee like a dog ?"

Marcus smiled and nodded.

I laid a blanket on the background, took off every stitch of wearable, and got down on all fours. I spread my bare kitty lips apart with my fingers and turned my head back to watch. A stream 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 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 back. 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 guesswork out and splashed on my belly, yellow and warm. He aimed it between my legs and I rubbed my puss with his slippery pee. I spread myself open and felt his hot pee pound sign my clit and run down the crack of my ass. Yellow pee splashed across my perfect breasts.

I loved lying under his pee flow. I wanted to taste it coming right out of his member. I opened my backtalk, and Marcus aimed his pee into it. I drank from his warm fountain, salty and metallic. I kept masturbating and had a little orgasm while his hot urine streamed into my open mouth. He peed all over my face and hair, then his pee ran out.

observation me masturbate and drink his pee must birth been a turn on for him, because his cock turned stiff as a log. I got on my knee in front man of him and let the final drop curtain of his pee dribble out onto my tongue while I jacked him off.

He laid next to me on the blanket, now wet with his pee, and we kissed as I stroked his tool. I pushed him over on his binding and rode him like a sawhorse. I felt him bonk me from below like a bucking bronco, and I toke him deep inside me.

I wanted to cum all over his hard cock, but I must deliver drank too much water because I needed to pee again. The thinking of my wide vesica 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 restrain my pee any retentive, and it started to dribble out of me around Marcus's cock while we fucked. Each thrust of his putz seemed to push more pee out of me. I stopped trying to book 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 jab, Marcus's cock pushed on my bladder and sent an orgasmic moving ridge through me. My pee streamed, sprayed, and squirted. I peed all over Marcus. With every hint, I smelled the intoxicating aroma of my ample 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 neck. We kissed as we stood in the cool water. I held his limp member and felt his warm up pee surround us .
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