Letting Go

For many years, my particular fetish was something of which I was ashamed. I also felt a lot of guilt about it. At one point, I learned that there was a name for the kind of activity that I would fantasize about: "golden showers". But it didn't immediately help me to know that there were others out there with this preponderance...the whole "fetish" world was strange and bewildering...

I would never, in former years, have indulged these ideas, even by allowing myself to entertain these thoughts. Well...at least, most of the time I would not. On occasion, my sex would carry me away. Once in a while, I would, for example, see a movie, in which characters would, for whatever reason, find the need to relieve themselves outdoors, and perhaps in front of other characters in the movie. Seeing the movie with other people always disturbed me, and I felt indignant that these scenes were included, often randomly and without relevance to the plot in scenes such as those found in Rob Roy and The Piano. It embarrassed me to have to watch them--share in their horror with friends or my family with whom I was viewing the film. But then, later, home again, and alone in my room, unable to shake these images and accompanying dialogs, I could not deny myself the release found in playing with myself. Later, sometimes immediately, I would feel guilty.

How odd it was for me, a seemingly normal, and considerably inexperienced, woman, to be so hung up on something so disgusting! Not only that, but sometimes the things that I thought about just seemed silly. For a long time, to indulge in these fantasies would not have required another person. I really couldn't even conceive of letting out my pee in front of another person, or allowing them to do so in front of me. More than anything, I simply thought about letting out my own pee, alone and unwatched, but in some unorthodox place. I yearned to do this, but I was too nervous even to release my pee into the shower.

There was one time when the long-suffering idea of doing it and the excitement I felt lead me to pee in a bowl. When I couldn't stand it any longer, I lay a shallow aluminum mixing bowl on the floor in the bathroom. Imagine my delight as I pulled up my skirts, removed my panties, and knelt down over the bowl. In order to keep my stream steady and straight, so that it did not trickle and spray all over the floor, I reached down and separated the lips of my eager little twat with my fingers. The excitement, or perhaps the position of bearing down, had made my lips incredibly plump and firm feeling, and between them, my slit was warm and creamy. I pulled apart the thick, tight labia and waited, my bladder now very full and very much needing to be emptied, as I had struggled with the urge to do this and my hesitation for over an hour now. Still, the hot stream would not immediately come. I had very much envisioned letting go of my piss in a squat position: just carelessly hiking up my skirt, dropping down, and feeling it leave me and hear it spattering into the pan. However, my experience was inhibiting me, and squatting became uncomfortable. Instead, I got down on my knees, and lowered myself over the bowl until I was nearly sitting on it. This gave me time to relax the muscles strained in my ankles and knees, and allowed me to become more comfortable with where I was, what I was doing, and about to do, and feel ready to go again.

Sitting over the bowl, my pussy so open and thick that, should I have stood up, it would have been very uncomfortable, I enjoyed so much the anticipation. In the mirrored doors of my shower, I could see myself. Still mostly dressed, and appearing only to be sitting on the ground, I realized that someone who might have seen me would have had no idea that I was doing this. Why, I could almost crouch down and have a piss outside and no one would know! I could be at like, a pic-nic or something...

Well, my full bladder was becoming very sore and wanted me to release its hot amber piss somewhere, anywhere. I tapped my clit with a finger a few times, thinking it might entice the liquid to come out, but all it did was feel really good, and evoke my body's natural response to tighten and pull at this provocation. I replaced my fingers within the crevices between my labia, again separating them and exposing the soft, pink, wet flesh between, and gave a little push to start the flow of urine. It took a few little pushes, and a little pressure of my hand over my lower abdomen, but finally, a slow, warm trickle of my piss left me and fell, collecting in drops within the bowl underneath me, making glorious little tinkling sounds as my beautiful yellow pee hit against the shiny metal.

Badly as I needed to go, my pee was reluctant. A few drops, a pause, a short stream, and my muscles would contract. This was sensational, and I was dismayed to think that I might have to perfunctorily let go of the rest of this wonderful, voluminous piss into the toilette in a completely unimaginative way. No, I would not! Again, I would bear down, giving short little pushes, a little pee escaping each time, until, finally, a nice, strong stream was emit from my tight little pussy. I sat up into a kneeling position over the bowl, and the sound became loud and invigorating. A wet steam I could feel on my thighs as my piss fell, filling the pan more and more, tiny drops splashing out and onto the cold tile floor on which I knelt. Oh, the feeling of letting it go! Unable to resist, I moved my fingers into the stream and felt how surprisingly warm and strong was the flow of pee. And so much! I should have selected a larger bowl, as this one nearly spilled over.

My pee dwindled, coming to the end. A few more contractions forced a few more wonderful little squirts out and into the bowl, and into my cupped hand. Immediately thereafter, I lay back, my pussy drenched in piss, my hand still cupping the small amount it had been able to catch. I let the golden liquid fall from my fingers over my cunt and drop down onto the floor, the tiles of which were cold against my bare rump, and fingered myself furiously, in and out and around, delving into and spreading the wetness over me. How good it felt, and how hard I came, lying there in my own piss.