Mother & Step-Daughter Piss Fetish

She thought a prompt and urgent extinguishing of that fire would be best. She removed her lenses, washed her face, tidied her hair and padded along the hall. Michaela's light was still on. Perfect. She knocked lightly and opened the door. She hadn't figured out what to say but something would pop up to mitigate her guilt. Michaela didn't stir. Therese stepped closer. Her step-daughter was curled up, fast asleep, holding a hankie at her nose.

Therese leaned over and kissed her forehead.

'Aw, I hope she didn't catch a cold, out in the garden all night, silly thing.'

Then the pale pastel yellow colour of the hankie caught her attention. Michaela was clasping it tight. Therese tugged at the material and the girl's hand moved, opening, divulging the secret theft of her dirty drawers. The clutched hand moved away from her face to divulge yet more evidence.

Michaela was nuzzling and suckling on dark purple cotton underwear. Therese recognised those as well. She stood up straight, her head spinning. She was shocked. Astonished. An immense pleasurable relief drained all the tension away. She hadn't been imagining it! Micki's extra attention and long craving stares, it was all real! She smiled a wide, wicked smile all the way back to her bedroom. She climbed into bed and hooked one leg over her husband's thigh and began to hump against him like a bitch in heat. She kissed him.

"Hey, big boy, wake up. C'mon, wake up! Hey!"

"Wassamatter, wassit? Wassit!?"

"Come on, wake up," she kissed and humped and pawed at him.

"What is it? What's the matter?"

"I'm horny, come on, wake up and play with me."

"Nahhh, I'm beat."

"Don't be like that," she kissed him deeply and breathed his wine-soaked breath, "I'm horny, I want you."

She curled her fingers around his flaccid cock and mashed some life into it. After a few minutes of kissing and molesting, she felt him thickening in her grasp. She whispered filthy suggestions about her hot, wet, tight cunt until he surrendered to her military tactics.

"Alright, alright. Just, just let me throw some water on my face, will you?"

He scrambled messily out of bed and into the bathroom. Therese contorted on the sheets as if in agony. Her fingers danced across her breasts, her fake nails teased her nipples.

"Hurry, baby, I need some," she purred.

"Alright, okay. Jesus!"

Her husband stood over the toilet, urging the urine that had painfully filled his bladder to get on with it. After a disappointing dribble of pee, he washed and gargled then walked back into the bedroom to find Therese happily snoring. He got on the bed and shook her shoulder. She was dead to the world.

"Fucking hell," he sighed.

*******

There then began a sequence of not-so-subtle subterfuge in which Therese contrived a number of ways to allow her step-daughter to accidentally discover her soiled undies. A recurring favourite was asking Michaela to pop into her parents' bedroom to retrieve some trifle where there would just happen to be that day's discarded pantyhose or panties laying around. Therese enjoyed seeing the flash of private thrill in her step-daughter's face when asked to perform this errand.

Therese found that the game began to occupy her thoughts throughout the day; she'd be sitting at work in some pointless meeting and her thoughts would stray to the sweaty scents her pussy and butthole were currently implanting into the material of her underwear and she'd shift around in her seat, covertly spreading the aromatic stains she imagined would later be snuffled by the knicker-sniffing Micki.

Sitting on the toilet, she would visualise the cute, chubby girl kneeling between her legs. Would she dip her tongue into the flowing stream of piss or push her face in to be splashed joyfully? Would she lap at it like a cat or swallow mouthfuls at a time?

Peeing became for Therese a sensuous and lust-filled activity; habit would make her reach out for some tissue to pat dry her dripping labia but then she would pause, remember her pervy pantie sneak-thief, and pull up her underwear to be sodden by the remaining drips. In the car, on the commute across the city, Therese would happily let out a long, slow fart and smile to herself that some fetid fragrance would indelibly leave a trace for later inhaling.

Every evening, Therese would go for a run around the park and she took to wearing the same jogging underwear day after day. Returning from an invigorating session after a few days of this, she walked into her bathroom and peeled off her sweat-drenched clothes. She held up her begrimed hipster sports panties and smelled them.

'Pewf. Hot damn! Maybe that's too much?'

She buried them deep in her laundry basket. Later that night, however, she'd checked and sure enough they'd gone.

She'd grinned and said, "That dirty little cow," but then a pang of jealousy had twisted a tangle inside her.

As much as she was enjoying the game, it was a little one sided. There was a gathering injustice that needed to be addressed and the longing in her loins was telling her it needed to be soon.

The next day was a hot, humid Saturday. The Jelphes had been on a family visit to a dim, distant relative and returned feeling bedraggled and exhausted by the sweltering car journey. As the car pulled into the garage, Jefferson had ejected himself announcing his intention to spend the rest of the day cooling off in the pool. Michaela's father stood by the car stretching, yawning and clawing at his crotch.

"Erm, whatcha doing there, honey?" Therese asked.

"I'm so grungy," he replied, adjusting his underwear through his trousers, "The ol' family jewels are-"

"Okay, ew! Officially gross." Michaela slammed the lid on the conversation as she slammed shut the car door and stomped inside.

"Well, I was just saying," her father grumped, "I think I'll join the boy in the pool."

Therese locked the car and walked up to the house with a growing conviction.

'Today,' she thought, 'I wanna play.'

She took some time cooling down with a tall, iced drink then headed to her step-daughter's bedroom. She knocked, opened the door and found the room empty.

Michaela was sitting on the toilet in a restive contemplation.

She was thinking how nice it was spread her thighs and let the air get to her 'bits and bobs' after being cooped up in the car for hours.

Lately, she'd been rubbing her chubby, red, pussylips raw in a state of constant arousal; she masturbated so often that her fingers appeared to be permanently seared with her own pussy-scent; she could sit in class and lose herself in dreams, covertly sniffing the fragrance of arousal from her skin. And all the dreams were about Therese. Other girls were cute and other women were attractive but no-one came close to Therese.

Today her step-mother had modelled a transparently tight dress with beautiful dark blue patterned nylons. The effect, as ever, was startling and frustrating. She was frustrated that she'd never look that good. She was frustrated that she'd never get to touch that body, those pert breasts, those long, long legs. Not only that but she'd never get to touch anyone who looked that good even. A big, fat blimp like her? She needed to lower her sights.

More than once she'd decided on a resolution to break her obsession. It was unhealthy. It was very distracting. Her grades were falling. Sneaking around pinching her underwear was demeaning. She wanted more in life than being some grubby gusset-sucking weirdo.

"Well, no more," she told herself sternly.

Then she pissed, feeling the gushing warmth leaving her and she knew she was addicted. There was no way out. The physical tingle when she tinkled was just adding to the sensual revolution happening in her groin.

She reached a hand through the space between her thighs and brought up a leaking cupped-hand near to her face. She sniffed at the vaporous smell. It wasn't as exciting as the pee stains on her idol's underwear. Blatant curiosity forced her to dip her tongue in the shallow pool of pee. She opened her fingers, the remaining pee drained on to her wide thighs. She rolled the fluid around in her mouth. It wasn't at all bad.

'If I ever got the chance to taste >her

Therese was standing in the centre of her bedroom when she opened the door, the sound of the flushing toilet could be heard down the hall.

"Oh, hello?" Michaela said, surprised.

Michaela's frizzly mess of hair was damp and plastered to her brow. There were visible sweat patches under her arms.

'Look at her' Michaela thought, 'She looks impeccable as always, not a hair out of place.'

Therese' tight floral summer-dress was short enough to have quickened Michaela's breath whenever she'd dared to briefly ogle during their family outing, with an unconscious tease she was fiddling with the hem to reveal even more of her silky blue stockings. In comparison, Michaela felt like a sack of boiled pig meat.

"Micki," Therese cleared her throat and tucked her hair behind her ear, an adorable nervous gesture Michaela had noted, "Micki, I... I'm just going to come right out and say it."

"Okaaay?"

"It's been two weeks since we... began our thing. You know, with the panties?"

"Yes?" Michaela squeaked.

Therese stepped closer, then closer again until her dry cheek was touching Michaela's clammy one. Michaela felt hot breath blow across her ear.

"I want a pair of yours," Therese whispered.

She stepped back to assess her step-daughter's reaction and found shocked distress written across her face.

"Unless you don't wanna?" Therese added quickly.

She reached out a hand and touched the goggling girl's arm.

"If you don't want to swap, that's okay, I, I, I just..."

"Um, I'd like that," Michaela said quietly, looking at anywhere but her step-mom's face.

"Really?"

Michaela nodded. Therese crouched slightly to put her hands on the girl's thighs and glided them slowly up under her knee-length skirt. Her fingers touched the clammy cotton underwear and she looked up.

Michaela smiled down over her bulging double-chin at Therese's burgeoning blush. There was a long, still moment in which the universe changed unalterably. There was no going back after this. Through an open window, Therese could hear her husband and son fooling around in the pool outside. She was a wife and mother. Reality check.

Her resolve began to falter but she looked up into Michaela's large dilated pupils and found only fascination, affection and a mutual excitement. She slipped her long-nailed fingers gently into the elasticated waist that pressed into moist, chubby flesh.

"Are you sure, Micki?"

"Yes, Mum."

Therese held tighter on to the waistband and started to peel the underwear down. As the rolling bunched-up cotton got to the top of Michaela's ample thighs, she leaned down to push them further, down over the plump knees and then they dropped to her ankles. Michaela stepped out of them and Therese straightened up holding her prize to her heart. Her cheeks were now fully blushing, amazed at her own brazen bravery. She flashed a sweet smile at the girl then turned to leave.

"Um, Mum?"

"Yes, darling?"

Therese had opened the door, she looked back at Michaela's expression of protest.

"Oh! Oh, they're under your pillow, Micki, my love."

Michaela looked over at her bed then back at the closing door. She fanned herself in the merciless afternoon heat then began to pull off her sweat-soiled clothes. She lay her naked body on the bed and reached under her pillow. The panties were a skimpy, simple pair and the pale lilac hue perfectly showed off the luscious looking damp patches.

All thought of her bathroom resolution dissolved as a need to masturbate again enveloped her. No-nonsense fingers began to frig her rubbery, red-hot jellybean. She teased her fat, sticky outer and inner lips between her thumb and forefinger. They were soon swollen and throbbing.

Her fingers were podgy but could be nimble when needed. She rubbed and trapped and circled and poked while snuffling her snout in the now familiar delicate perfume of her step-mother.

Her tongue snaked out and tasted the salty, sweaty, sweet and sour flavours. She felt her slick pussy clamp on her fingers in spasms of satisfyingly dirty lust. There was no way around it, no denying it, she felt at her most sexy when she was a filthy little piggy.

She diddled in and out of her tight, squishy hole again and again until the waves of pleasure rose and threatened to engulf her, taking her to the point she was always scared to go beyond. She sensed a full orgasm would be so forceful it would somehow devastate her. She was frightened of the cascading emotions crashing through her mind. Her heart would burst.

It felt like a madness to be feared. She'd rather a slow ride of the sparkling flashes of delight back to a calm, controllable point. Her climaxes were forceful and frightening and she always backed away from them. They threatened to overwhelm her, to drown her in unbearable pressure. Glimmering but safe mini-orgasms trickled through her, from her sweaty scalp and down her arched back to tickle her clenched toes.

She lay still, dreamily picturing the debased woman of her dreams and then examined the gifted panties. She wondered what her step-mom would do with her pair. She was so glad she'd also worn a pretty pair today, blue plaid with a violet bow.

Hers were extra large, though, not like these skimpy briefs. She investigated them further and was conflicted by the barest smudge of glossy brown in the centre of the seat. The material puckered there, it had obviously spent the day jammed up between those cute, pert buttocks. She had once or twice encountered this in her collection of purloined panties but never before as so a fresh a specimen.

Her depraved mind pictured Therese, stripped of her summer-dress but still wearing today's spiked heels and light-blue stockings: Therese was bending over, one hand was massaging a tanned bumcheek, pulling it, opening up to reveal a wrinkled, glistening hole. Even her shithole looked exquisite.

Michaela groaned inwardly in a bubbling cauldron of envy and filthy lust. Eyes closed, lost in a fevered fantasy, she pressed her face into the satin-soft panties and tasted.

*******

After another, more serene and less frantic, session of self-abuse, Michaela felt the myriad ripples of joy wash away enough for her to stand. She felt as sludgy as a melted chocolate bar but she was thirsty and hungry. She threw on some slobby clothes and left her room. Before she turned to walk down the hall, a weird animal gasping caught her attention. She stepped nearer to the door of her parents' bedroom. It was open-ish.

She moved closer, listening. Along with the machine-like wheezes was a regular squelchy sound, again and again and again. A step closer revealed muttered voices. Carefully, secretly, she peeked.

As if projecting the video of her fantasy, she spied Therese dressed only in heels and hold-ups, leaning over her bed. Her head was down with her hair covering her face. A slight nudge of the door revealed her father was standing behind her, plunging an alarmingly fat penis in and out of his wife.

Michaela froze in place. She daren't breathe or move a muscle. She watched Therese's long nylon legs flex and take the pressure of her father's jostling pokes; her taught flesh creased with each screwing, squelching shove. Michaela noted with envy that Therese's pert, neat breasts didn't wobble and bobble around like her own.

Therese puffed and swore as she was pushed and pulled and pummelled by her panting father. Her eyes drifted down to the way her step-mother's heels dug into the plush carpet, securing her in place despite the tough mechanical shunting. Her camera-lens rose slowly up the thin, elegant curves of Therese's blue-stockinged calves and thighs until the lacy elasticated stocking-tops gave way to shuddering flesh.

She felt pangs of jealousy. Her father possessed the woman she dreamed of possessing and was proving his ownership by ramming his prick inside her. It felt like she was watching an assault as he fondled Therese's bare bottom. She was feeling that each fast, deep screw took her Therese away. The shocking spectacle of her father, naked except for his socks and with wrinkled and hairy balls bouncing, removed any erotic sentiment from the goggling girl.

'Bastard,' she thought, 'Leave her alone. She's mine!'

She went to step back and edge away from this devastating scene when a glimpse of blue plaid drew her eye to her step-mother's face. Therese lifted her head.

She whipped her damp fringe out of her eyes and snarled, "Harder, baby, harder!"

In one of Therese's hands, Michaela saw, was her own dirty knickers. Her lips dried and she swallowed painfully as she watched Therese bury her face back in the bunched up panties secreted in her fist.

"Holy shit!" Michaela said quietly as she tip-toed away.

*******

The next morning Michaela tried yet again to dress in a pretty outfit but saw in the mirror something that had all the grace of a football stadium. She stripped dejectedly and dragged on an oversized tee-shirt and a pair of old, comfy leggings. In the lounge she found Therese sitting on the couch exhibiting all her gorgeous shapeliness in a charcoal-grey dress, with red roses embroidered across her bust, and charcoal-grey nylons.

Michaela marvelled at the injustice of the universe. When she plonked down next to Therese, all her plump parts bulged out like a bag of carnival marshmallows. She was a bubble of inexplicable emotions and she had no-one she could turn to except her step-mother.

"Mum?"

"Yes, Micki, my love?"

Michaela cleared her throat and squeaked, "I saw you."

"You saw me?"

"Um, screwing... with Dad."

Therese blushed and smiled, looking away. She tucked her soft hair behind an ear.

"I hoped you would," Therese admitted.

There was a pause while this sank in.

Therese teased her dark nylon thigh with pristine, painted fingernails and asked, "Did you see what I was holding?"

"Yes. Yes, I saw."

They shared a shy, naughty grin.

"Mum? What are we doing? I mean... What is this?"

"What do you think it is?"

"I asked first."

"Childish!"

Therese rolled her eyes in an exaggerated way to relieve the apparent tension. She leaned closer on the couch. She touched Michaela's arm, then twiddled a couple of Michaela's fronds of frizzy curls.

"I think," she lowered her voice, "I think we're a couple of kinky girls who have found each other."

She watched Michaela cogitate on this and then asked, "What do you think is happening?"

Michaela's large, dark eyes looked at Therese.

The girl whispered, "I think I'm falling for you."

A broad grin spread across Therese's attractive face. She leaned even closer and kissed her sexy, confused, charming, chubby step-daughter.

"I adore you, Micki."

Michaela returned the kiss and they pressed together in a passionate but gentle embrace. Michaela's hand sought to fulfil one of her many ambitions and sailed up and down Therese's smooth, soft fabric-encased leg; as they kissed, her moist palm slid down to below Therese's knee then back up under the dress and discovered that today she was wearing pantyhose and the opaque material went all the way up to her waist. She could not feel any panties under the tights. A door crashed open in the kitchen, the door that led outside, and Therese whipped her head away. Michaela reluctantly removed her hand.