Just Letting GobyGwenWinter©
A story published on an special-interest internet site finds an enthusiastic reader, giving her the impetus to experiment with water-sports, first alone, then with a male partner.
Hi, my name is Gwen. I'm a fit, attractive, lively twenty-something and I live in the west of England. I live with my male partner, Clive, who's almost twice my age. It's an established and mutually satisfying relationship, which just keeps getting better. One reason for that is our firm agreement, which I insisted on from the start, that I could have sex with other men, on a frequent basis, according to my needs.
Clive is fit and in excellent health, and he has above-average stamina, but even so, it was obvious to both of us, from the start, that my needs would exceed his capacity to meet them. Any man I'd met would have faced the same situation. The fact is, I'm getting hornier and hornier, all the time. As time went on, the discrepancy would simply become steadily more obvious.
I should mention that Clive is entirely straight, with no fetishistic tendencies, and he isn't in any respect submissive, and I have no intention of pushing my luck by openly going against his wishes. He likes the idea of having me around, as his unruly, uninhibited "Slut Wife", but only up to a point.
Now, our agreement isn't just that I'm totally free to fuck other guys, whenever and wherever I feel like it. I'm working towards that, but it will take time. It's not quite that simple, but the rules are straightforward. I arrange all the meetings, at times convenient to both of us, the condition being that all events take place in threesome or small-group situations, with Clive as an active participant.
That works well, in the party situations, as Clive is a sociable bloke with a laid-back attitude and a dry sense of humour. The threesomes sometimes need a bit more work, especially with first-timers, as the guys aren't always sure where the limits are, but things soon settle down, and then we can concentrate on having fun. Quite a few of our party guests come back for a threesome, and in the same way, it's always nice to welcome a guy whom we've met on his own, to one of the parties.
So I can truthfully say that I'm still a devoted, dutiful partner, as I wouldn't get involved in anything that Clive wouldn't be happy about. But when it's a question of wanting to meet a guy I like the look of, on my own, my imagination can get very active. So active, in fact, that my fantasies can be full of surprises.
A short time ago I discovered an Erotica item on a special-interest website, written by a young woman called Amy. In her story, Amy is at home on her own one day, spending her time watching porn films and masturbating, much as usual apparently, and on an impulse, decides to find out what it's like to bring herself off at the point where she's absolutely desperate for a piss. She describes the resulting orgasm as "mind-blowing".
Amy begins her story by talking about how incredibly aroused she can get when she's on her own indoors. She wakes up feeling horny, and she has to masturbate. She keeps teasing herself, over and over, pausing for a while and then starting again, and carrying on like that until she can't take any more.
Then she has to bring herself off; she says the orgasm this gives her is truly mind-blowing and well worth the wait. She gushes heavily, and the tension in her subsides for a while. That's never the end of things, though, as by then her clit is so sensitive, that before long she feels compelled to start wanking, all over again.
Next, she describes what happens when she discovers how all that sexual tension is heightened still further, by the feeling of having an urgent need to take a piss. She tries holding on to that feeling for as long as she can, wanking her clit vigorously all the while, until the compulsion becomes unbearable, and then she just lets go, completely, soaking her jeans and making a huge puddle of piss all over the kitchen floor.
As she does that, a massive orgasm shakes her body. The excitement has become so intense that she just has to keep wanking, and seconds later she climaxes again. Her legs almost give way underneath her, and she ends up sitting down in her puddle, delighting in the warmth and wetness, and in the sheer wanton dirty naughtiness of what she has just done.
Taking Amy's advice
Having read Amy's piece, I decide straight away to try her experiment for myself. She explains exactly what you have to do, to take the most intense pleasure from the experience. Patient, careful preparation is clearly the key to getting the best possible result.
To begin with, you have to be in the right kind of horny state of mind and body, from the time you get up in the morning. Then you have to work on yourself, getting some nice fantasies going, and keeping your clitoris well stimulated. At intervals, in between, you have to give yourself a thorough fingering, stoking the fire underneath your G-spot until the pressure really starts to build.
The only question is, how much pressure will you actually be able to stand? The longer you hold out, the more dramatic the release, when you finally decide to "just let go".
When I decide to put Amy's advice to the test, I follow her guidance as closely as I can. I even select the same location in the house, namely, the kitchen. There's plenty of space there, and it's a functional environment, which is easy to clean. Somehow, too, it feels naughtier to be playing there, than in the bathroom.
Unlike Amy, though, I don't really fancy wetting myself in denim jeans, and so I take a look through my wardrobe, to see if I have anything suitable. I put on my latest outfit, a short, sleeveless sheath-style dress in soft, shiny, ultra-smooth black latex. With nothing at all underneath, it clings to my body very closely, and gives a nice fetish feel to the proceedings.
With the dress, I wear some black stilettos, with shiny steel heels, to complete the effect. Dressed like that, I like to imagine myself as a guest at some kind of kinky fetish party, or as the star of a hardcore video shoot.
I've thought about having a session with one of my favourite toys, but Amy doesn't mention anything like that. She's obviously very skilled with her fingers, and knows exactly where to touch herself, and how, to get the most intense response. I think about her, as I work on myself in just the same way.
I love the way she talks about getting turned on by her own state of arousal. She quickly realises how excited she's getting, and that way she gets herself even more worked up. As her pussy gets wetter and wetter, she pulls out her fingers and delights in their glistening stickiness. She takes a moment to inhale the subtle, bittersweet fragrance of her fresh juices, and she relishes the tangy flavour as she licks her fingers clean.
For me, eventually, the point is reached where I'm simply not capable of holding back any longer. I'm desperate to take a piss. I make my way into the kitchen, roll up my dress, and then take up my position, leaning back against the worktop, legs well apart. My patient, delicate finger-work has brought me to a state of extreme arousal, and now I'm willing myself to come.
And then, just as Amy had said it would, it all happens very fast. A few sharp, spiteful slaps of my fingers against my swollen clit, and suddenly the juices are flooding out of me, as a violent orgasm rocks my body.
Gripped by a compulsion to push myself to the limit, I keep slapping, releasing a showering gush of juices all over the floor in front of me. I succumb to an overpowering wave of relief as the piss pours out of me, spraying and splashing in a wide arc, right across the floor. The sense of release is so overpowering that I lose myself in it completely.
Hardly aware of what I'm doing, I keep slapping away at my pussy, and within seconds, with the piss still streaming out of me, I've climaxed again, letting go with another spraying gush.
Barely able to walk, I stagger back to the living room, with my dress still rolled up, and sit down on the sofa. My juices are still oozing from my soaking wet pussy, to form a warm puddle of sticky moisture underneath me. I sit there like that for quite a while, overcome by the intensity of the excitement that I've just experienced.
I wish that I could pick up the phone to call Amy, right here and now, to share it all with her, every detail of it, from start to finish. It has been, as she'd promised, an amazingly intense experience.
At the end of her story, Amy starts to wonder where her discovery is going to take her. I've been hoping she would submit another Erotica item, about what happened next, but so far, she hasn't done so. Still, I'm grateful to her for getting me started with this most exciting and gratifying fetish, and now that I've tried it once, I, too, have become hooked. Just like Amy, I know that this is merely the start of something that I'll have to take further.
Not just that, though. I know, as well, that I'll want to share this experience. Now, as I've said, it's already clear that Clive isn't going to be interested, and I shan't be raising the subject with him, for the time being, at least. I'll have to find someone who shares my interest. If I could do that, then, as Amy said, who's to say where this could lead?
At our most recent party, a week or so ago, Clive and I met a lovely guy by the name of Matt. He had a great time with us, and it didn't take him long to realise that I really fancied him. He was a nice-looking bloke, a little older than me, well educated, very clean and presentable, and an enthusiastic participant from the start.
I'd say he was a man of roughly average endowment, but with plenty of experience, and no lack of imagination. I enjoyed his company, and I was impressed by his stamina. I really liked his attitude, which was laid-back and good-humoured, and he and Clive got on really well, too.
There was just one awkward moment, and that was during a brief lull in the proceedings, about an hour after we'd started. I said that I'd need to go to the bathroom, for a pee, and Matt asked if he could accompany me. He was charmingly shy and discreet about it, but evidently keen enough to feel able to put the question, in front of Clive and the other party guests.
I was intrigued, and would have agreed, straight away, if only to satisfy my pressing curiosity. It so happens, though, that Clive wouldn't have approved of anything like that, and I had to offer Matt a demure apology.
Somehow, though, I could see he was aware that, but for Clive, I'd have responded differently. I wasn't at all surprised, then, to receive a text message from him, the following day, asking whether I could arrange to meet his request, in a one-to-one session. Now, I'd already explained to him that, as things stood, I never offered one-to-one appointments, of any kind, but he must have thought that he'd have nothing to lose by getting in touch.
When Matt contacted me, I still wasn't sure exactly what he had in mind, though of course I had a rough idea. I didn't want to take the edge off our shared fantasy, though, by having him spell it out in so many words. Instead, I took the opportunity to tease him a little. I sent him a message in reply, worded as though I knew precisely what he was after, and suggesting that his ideas were much too kinky for my tastes.
As I've said, he'd no doubt guessed that he'd aroused my interest, and that I'd be open to persuasion, without too much more effort on his part. From my side, however, I had no intention of agreeing straight away. I explained that this would be very tricky to arrange, even if I was willing to agree to his requests - which, I assured him, I wasn't - and reminded him of the details of my domestic situation. I also suggested that there would be other girls willing to offer the services he was after, for the right price.
Just as I'd hoped, Matt immediately became even more insistent. He knew all about the situation with Clive, of course, but he also knew that I was often at home on my own, when Clive was at work. After a little more playful prevarication, I told Matt that he could ring me, so that we could talk about his request.
I was intent on giving the impression that I was in no hurry to meet, but Matt kept the pressure on, and eventually I said he could call round on the next weekday morning, which was the Monday of the following week.
On the Sunday before that, Clive and I were up rather late, and we got through quite a few glasses of one thing and another. We were celebrating his birthday, a couple of days in advance, as some of his friends wouldn't have been able to join us, on the day.
To try to alleviate the effects of a hangover, I switched to drinking plain water, for a while, before going to bed. The next morning, Clive left for work at the normal time, and I slept in a little later than usual. When I got up, I had some more water, and then some fresh fruit juice, followed by several cups of tea with my breakfast. As far as Matt's visit was concerned, I could hardly have been better prepared!
Waiting for Matt
This morning, I've put on an outfit that's just like the one I'd been wearing at the start of our last party. I've gone for the smart, secretarial look, with a provocative edge: crisp white short-sleeved blouse, pleated charcoal miniskirt, and shiny black stilettos, with no underwear. I feel great, dressed like this, but if I were to decide that I didn't want to stay dressed, I could be naked in seconds.
Now, I've already told you how I discovered the awesome pleasure of home-alone solo piss play, after reading a story that I found on a website. Well, today I'm going to be having fun with those naughty piss games once again, but this time, I shall have a playmate.
I'm so excited that I can hardly contain myself. I still don't know quite what my playmate is going to want to do with me, when he gets here, but even the thought of a fit young guy just standing close by, watching my antics, as I put on a show to let him see how dirty I can be, is a massive turn-on for me, and I just can't stop thinking about it.
I'm on my way to the bathroom when the doorbell rings. Matt has arrived a couple of minutes early. I'm dying for a piss, but the last thing I want is to have a male visitor loitering on the doorstep, in full view of the neighbours, and so I turn around and scurry to the front door, to let him in.
This isn't how I'd wanted our session to start. My plan had been to welcome my guest while I was still in a relaxed and comfortable state, and to ease into things slowly, with some nice, gentle teasing, continuing from where I'd left off, at the end of our phone conversation, last week. That way, I'd have had time to work out exactly what it was that Matt was looking for, and to make up my mind about how far I was willing to play along.
As it is, though, I'm just bursting for a piss! I know I can hardly wait a second longer. I consider asking my guest to wait, while I simply go on my own to the bathroom in the normal way, but this isn't a normal situation, and it doesn't seem right to do that. I take Matt's jacket, to hang it up, and I tell him what the matter is.
He seems pleasantly surprised, as if I'd very cleverly managed to set the situation up like this on purpose, with my timing just right. He also seems to think that I'll know what to do next, and so I decide I'd better have a stab at pretending that I do.
I take him by the hand, and lead him into the kitchen, where I stop. Now it's his turn to have to ask what's happening.
"That's right, Matt."
Now, as I've already mentioned, the kitchen has a fairly wide expanse of smooth, polished floor, which is easy to clean, and so I'm not worried about making a mess. If necessary, we could always move to the bathroom later on.
I unfasten my skirt, and toss it onto a chair, and then take up my position, leaning back against the worktop, legs well apart. I begin to finger my pussy in a delicate, provocative way, carefully exposing the tip of my clit, but not daring to touch myself anywhere near it, as it's unbearably sensitive.
I'm expecting Matt to stand opposite me, to watch me, but instead he drops straight to his knees, and gazes up at me. Even at this point, I haven't fully understood what he has in mind, as he kneels beneath me, in his smart, formal work clothes, his smiling face just inches from my pussy.
"Matt, what on earth are you playing at? I've got to go! Right now! You haven't got time to take your clothes off!"
"Don't worry about that, Gwen. It's all machine-washable stuff. Shirt, tie, trousers, boxers, all of it. And I've got a full change of clothes in my briefcase. So, go on - go!"
And as he says those words, that's what I do. Unable to hold back a second longer, I simply let go, releasing a mighty torrent of steaming piss into Matt's mouth, drenching his face and showering his body. In seconds, his shirt is soaked through. To my amazement, he holds his position, keeping his mouth wide open, to gulp down as much of the rushing flow as he possibly can. The piss just keeps pouring out of me, and he can't get enough of it.
As the tension in me subsides, a sense of relief sweeps through my body like a wave, and I know that I'm on the point of climax. As the stream gradually slows to a trickle, Matt raises his head to get closer, so that he can take all those very last drops. I reach down with my left hand, to hold him back. With my right hand, I'm at last starting to put a little gentle fingertip pressure on the soft moist flesh around my clit, and that is enough to tip me over the edge.
I know that Matt loves to see me gush, and he is already in his favourite position to enjoy what happens next. I fail to stifle a sharp, shrieking gasp as I let go for a second time, this time dissolving in a massive gushing ejaculation. The spray seems to fly in all directions, but mostly over Matt, drenching him all over again. By the time it's finally over, my legs are shaking so much that I can hardly stand.
I have to keep holding Matt at arm's length, quite literally, for the moment. He is obviously desperate to shove his face between my legs, and give me a thorough licking. Just at this moment, though, I simply couldn't handle any more stimulation, and I shall have to forgo that most desirable pleasure, for a little while at least.
I beckon to Matt to get up from his knees, and we stand facing each other. He's soaked from head to foot, and he's beaming, gleefully. I draw him towards me, to feel the warm wetness of his body against mine. The excitement is exquisite. I feel an overwhelming urge to kiss him, and before I know what I've started, I'm flicking my tongue across his face, licking up little droplets of the wetness, a tantalising blend of my piss and my juices.
The sensations, as I hold my face against his, are just amazing. Matt is a fit, masculine sort of chap, with nicely weathered skin that feels fantastic as I press against it. The moisture from my piss and juices is warm with his body heat. And to add a subtle finishing touch, I pick up a hint of a lovely, sophisticated manly fragrance, from whatever it was that he'd dabbed on, after his morning shave, and my legs start trembling all over again!
I know Matt wants more, but I'm simply not ready. What I need to do, right now, is to sit down, and try to let myself drift gradually back to earth. When the moment seems right, I pick up a towel, from a pile of clean ones on a nearby chair, and I give Matt an appreciative smile as I hand it to him. Neither of us is saying anything, but he takes his cue, and ambles off to the bathroom.