I remember playing with a boy in my neighbourhood named Lord Todd. We had gone behind his garage under a lilac bush, our secret hideaway where no one could find us.

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

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

He showed it to me, so complex and unfamiliar.

Neither of us had pubic hair, as vernal as we were, so I took in every detail. The small purple head, the picket bare peter. All so unlike from what us girls had.

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

Gingerly at first, I held his modest, soft penis between my quarter round and digit. Then I enclosed him in my mitt and tugged. I ran my hand under him and moved the two heavy marbles around inside his sear footling bag. He felt like putty, strong and tensile. Playing with him fascinated me.

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

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

It seemed unjust, how he could expose his penis just by opening his pants. But I wanted him to get a good flavor too, so I sat in the dirt, removed my panties, and spread out my legs for him. sun bathed the pink line of my slit, but he still complained.

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

"Here, I'll appearance you."I used two finger to unfold myself so he could see inside. He stared, wide-eyed and queer. My pinko dent mesmerized him.

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

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

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

That sounded like a good estimation. I really wanted to see how his worked. It looked like his member would be so much better at peeing than mine. He set his bowl in the dirt and started to pee. I watched, amazed, as his slap-up flow of pee filled his bowl. He could aim it ! I couldn't do that.

After the last few gold pearl 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. Todd got down on his deal and genu so he could watch. goose egg happened for a consequence. Then I relaxed my heftiness and let it out. I couldn't aim it like he did, but I got some of it in the bowlful. My pee left dingy wet spots all over the dirt. I stood and felt a warmly trickle run down the inside of my leg.

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

I felt my spirit beating again. I wanted to bonk what it tasted like. I reached down and picked up the warm bowl of jaundiced pee. I put it to my lips and took a sip. It had almost no appreciation, maybe something like the top of a can before you tasted the soda. I sipped again, holding it in my back talk. It reminded me of fallible chicken broth.

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

I liked the idea that it came from his phallus, and I wondered if that might make it try different than mine. I took his warm bowling ball of pee, held it to my face, and inhaled. His pee smelled stronger than mine. Then I tasted it.

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

Todd shook his head.

"crybaby !"

"I am not a chicken !"He took the sports stadium out of my work force, put it to his lips, and sipped it. He frowned and closed his eyes tight."Ew !"He threw the bowl on the primer coat. Pee splashed everywhere.

For a patch after that, I felt ripped off. How arrive boy had a phallus and I only had this small twat between my legs ? It hardly seemed clean that boys could aim their pee and I couldn't.

As I got make for schooling one morning, I discovered something quite by accident. I went to the lavatory to shower and lap my hair as usual. I turned on the piddle to let it hot up up and dropped my pajamas. My pubic whisker had started to come in, light-headed brownness and soft as velvet. My breasts already filled a belittled bra. I stepped into the shower and let the hot water run over my raw body.

After I lathered my hairsbreadth with shampoo, I felt like I had to pee. By metre I'd rinsed my hair, my full vesica begged for expiration. I didn't want to inconvenience oneself getting out of the cascade to use the pot, so I decided to pee in the shower.

I put one foot on the face of the tub, spread myself open with two fingerbreadth, and let it out. To my surprise, holding it unfold made it get out in a flow. I watched the line of sensationalistic shoot out of me and arc down into the bottom of the tub. If I turned my articulatio coxae and moved my finger's breadth, I could progress to my pee go in dissimilar directions. I couldn't believe it ! I could pee like a boy !

From then on, I peed every time I got in the shower. I practiced aiming it, trying to hit the drainpipe like a bullseye. Or I'd aim it at the stale and hot handles. I drew short letter of pee up the shower walls, trying to see how gamy I could defecate it go. I taught myself how to pee anywhere I wanted.

I remember walking menage from school day one winter after a saucy snowfall. Ahead of me, two son ran out from behind a nook securities industry. As I passed where they'd been, I saw yellow lines of pee in the snow where they'd tried to drop a line their gens.

While some miss might experience been disgusted, I took it as a challenge. I knew I could publish my name better than those unintelligent boys. I looked around, not wanting to get caught. The snow bank couldn't have been more secluded. I hiked up my annulus and pulled my panty aside, exposing my furry shrub. With two fingers, I spread my labia open, and the winter air chilled my pink dent.

My hot pee shot out like a laser, etching white-livered cable in the snow. I wrote each alphabetic character just like I would sign my gens with a pen. My piss laser slowed to a stream, then a dribble. As I put myself away, I felt the last few drop-off soak into the genitals of my step-in. I looked at the C. P. Snow bank and beamed with pridefulness. It bore a cursive Emma, and quite good chirography if you ask me.

As I got older, my full scrub of pubic haircloth made a beautiful brown muffin, but it got in the way when I peed. I wanted a courteous straightaway current that I could aim, and I didn't want to worry about range tomentum getting in the way. All that hair made it harder to thumb myself, too.

One morning, as I shaved my ramification in the exhibitioner, I decided it would be just as easy to shave my pubic hair. I lathered up and ever so carefully drew the razor across my mons. clustering of hair washed down the drain with each cam stroke. I rinsed myself off and ran my finger over my slippery bare fork. It felt wonderfully naked -- and a little naughty. My button throbbed when I fingered it. I put another fingerbreadth inside my vagina and masturbated as the hot urine rained down on my breasts.

Once, in gamey school, my teacher asked me to admit a folder to the main office. As I walked down the evacuate halls, I decided to lay off at the girl's room, but found it closed for alimony. I squeezed my ramification together. I had to pee really bad. My pinching bladder told me I'd never make it to the other young woman's room on the far side of the school day. Desperate, I looked up and down the entrance hall, then stepped into the boy's room.

With everyone in 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 sculpture. I approached, walking softly, afraid to be caught. sputtering of pee adorned the porcelain rim, some dry, some still wet.

I laid my teacher's pamphlet on the bathroom counter, kicked off my sandals, and removed my denim and step-in. I walked back to the urinal, bare from the waist down. With my wooden leg and bare labia spread apart, I peed straight into the urinal. A pinkish soap-like bar at the bottom made some of my pee spray back. I drew a line of descent 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 naked twat, glossy with juice and the last warm trickle of my pee. I stuck one long finger inside my warm vagina. At the same time, I rubbed my slippery trivial clitoris. The tone of pee filled my nostril as I jacked myself off in front of the urinal. The empty boy's room was mute 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 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 power, innocent as a Lamb. Halfway there, I realized I hadn't washed my manus. My fingers smelled like pee and kitty juice. I put each one in my mouth and licked them clean.

After that, I always associated peeing with sex. I had beau in high schooltime, 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 residence hall emptied one holiday weekend and we had the office to ourselves. One night, after we fucked in his way, we walked naked to the bathrooms to clean 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 waste pipe, but I didn't want to be a passive perceiver. I wanted to help.

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

I held his limp member, still damp with my cunt juice, and kept it aimed into the urinal. Then he started to pee, and I could finger the pee streaming through his phallus. I moved him with my hired hand, spraying his pee all over the inside of the urinal. Then I made some of his pee splash the rampart and the floor.

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

"Oops."He didn't protest.

When his pee ran out and turned to a drip, I played with his penis in my helping hand. I felt his ardent pee on my fingerbreadth as I rubbed the head of his phallus. Then I got down on my knees and took him in my mouth.

He put his deal on the back of my foreland."Oh, yeah."

We had just fucked minutes before, so I could smack my pussy integrate with his urine. I sucked every bit of musky flavor from his turncock while I played with his balls. His spent penis filled my mouth.

Then I stood following to him, spread my ramification and bare labia, and wee into the Lapplander urinal. He got down on his knees and watched my pee current out of me. When my bladder had emptied, he put his hand on my ass and pulled my naked puss to his boldness. I felt his spit on me, inside me, licking up every drop of pee and pussy juice.

At the end of our fresher yr, after our terminal final exam, Marcus and I decided to go camping. We found a private stain on a lake and pitched our tent. I drank a ton of water while we set up camp, and by time we were done, I had to pee. We were away from the public camping site and surrounded by loggerheaded woods, so we didn't have to vex about anyone seeing us.

"neediness to see me pee like a dog ?"

Marcus smiled and nodded.

I laid a cover on the priming coat, took off every stitch of clothing, and got down on all quadruplet. I spread my bare pussy brim apart with my fingers and turned my headspring back to vigil. A flow of yellowness pee arced up and back. I swept it back and Forth River 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 pegleg 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 blastoff out and splashed on my belly, yellow and ardent. He aimed it between my leg and I rubbed my pussy with his slippery pee. I spread myself open and felt his hot pee dog pound my clit and run down the crack of my ass. yellowness pee splashed across my hone breasts.

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

Watching me masturbate and drink his pee must get been a turn on for him, because his peter turned firm as a log. I got on my human knee in front man of him and let the final exam drops of his pee dribbling out onto my knife while I jacked him off.

He laid side by side to me on the blanket, now wet with his pee, and we kissed as I stroked his cock. I pushed him over on his vertebral column and rode him like a horse. I felt him bed me from below like a bucking bronc, and I toke him deep inside me.

I wanted to cum all over his hard pecker, but I must have drink in too much water because I needed to pee again. The mentation of my replete bladder brought me even closer to orgasm. I had to pee, but I didn't want to stop shag, I wanted to cum.

I couldn't hold my pee any tenacious, and it started to dribble out of me around Marcus's cock while we fucked. Each poking of his cock seemed to labor Sir Thomas More pee out of me. I stopped trying to withstand 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 jabbing, Marcus's cock pushed on my vesica and sent an orgasmic wave through me. My pee streamed, sprayed, and squirted. I peed all over Marcus. With every breath, I smelled the intoxicating perfume of my robust 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 cervix. We kissed as we stood in the cool water. I held his hitch penis and felt his affectionate pee surround us .