The Elusive College Party

Cynthia continued to swirl her tongue around Lyle's as Lyle continued to helplessly wet himself. The other girls eventually stopped their tickling, but that no longer made a difference; any control that Lyle might have had left was being taken away by Cynthia's gentle tongue. Lyle could tell from Cynthia's enthusiasm, though, that that was not the sole purpose of the kiss. Cynthia was hungry for Lyle, as one might be for an ice cream sundae. And she didn't stop when Lyle finished peeing, nor did she cut the kiss any shorter than Lyle would have liked. In fact, in the end it was Lyle who first removed his hands and started to pull away. Cynthia actually pulled him back to continue the kiss a little bit longer, but when Lyle pulled away a second time, she let him go.

While they had been kissing, the other girls onstage had all moved off to one side. Cynthia glanced at them, then looked back at Lyle and said, "This is my sorority. My sisters and I love college boys who desperately need to pee, and I have to say, you did not disappoint." Addressing the audience in the seats, she said, "Let's hear it for Lyle!"

The audience gave a standing ovation. Looking at them, Lyle saw that they were all smiling, and some of them were licking their lips. Lyle was embarrassed to have wet his pants in front of so many other people, but they seemed to really appreciate it, so he managed to give them a bow -- not a deep bow, but he hoped enough to be polite. After straightening back up, he took a moment to enjoy their excited expressions, then turned back to Cynthia for further guidance.

Cynthia waited for the applause to die down, then gestured toward the bathroom and said to Lyle, "The bathroom over there has a shower, laundry machines, and clean towels and robes. You can throw your clothes in the washing machine, get cleaned up, and then put on a robe. Don't start the washing machine yet; we want to wait until we have a full load. If you're anxious to leave, you can wear the robe you pick back to your room and we'll get your clean clothes back to you tomorrow; if you stay, we can get them back to you at the end of the night. It looks like someone's left your sandals just outside the bathroom door; you can put them back on once you're done cleaning up."

So they had a detailed and efficient clean-up plan. Lyle's night wasn't ruined by his wet pants. He was glad now that the girls had taken the trouble to save his sandals, since he imagined sandals would be more difficult to clean than clothes, and the pee had indeed reached his feet. Lyle took another look at the audience; they had sat back down but were still smiling and some appeared to have resumed masturbating. Then he turned toward the bathroom; the path was now clear, the girls who had been surrounding him still casually standing off to the side.

"Go ahead," Cynthia said encouragingly from behind Lyle. "We'll mop the stage while you're in there."

Cautiously, wary of more traps, Lyle started walking toward the bathroom. None of the girls moved to block him this time. Lyle gradually started to feel more at ease as he approached, then reached, the bathroom. He opened the door, entered, and then closed and locked the door behind him, all without any issues. Everything Cynthia had listed was laid out before him. The room was deeper than it was wide; two parallel walls extended away from the stage on either side of Lyle. Against the wall on Lyle's left were first the laundry machines, then a transparent shower stall, then beyond that a toilet, a sink, and a mirror. The wall on Lyle's right was covered with shelves holding various folded fabrics, which fit in with Cynthia's mention of towels and robes. Since they were folded, it might have been another trick, but Lyle didn't really care if he had to spend the rest of the party naked and wet. He found an empty spot on a nearby shelf, emptied his pockets onto it, then took off his clothes, put them in the washing machine, and entered the shower stall. He didn't bother looking for a washcloth among the folded fabrics against the far wall; he found washcloths awkward to use and rarely bothered with them.

There were a number of squeeze bottles on a shelf inside the stall, and at least one appeared to be the body wash Lyle would need to clean himself properly. He had his shower, then turned off the water and looked through the clear door of the stall at the shelves on the far wall. There were folded towels immediately across from the stall, and the room was narrow enough that Lyle could probably reach one without stepping out. The towels were all different colours; Lyle looked at them for a few seconds before settling on a beige one. He opened the stall door, grabbed his chosen towel, dried off, and then stepped out of the stall. He then wrapped the towel around himself and started to investigate the wall shelves more thoroughly.

The section closest to the shower was filled with folded towels and washcloths; nothing in this section resembled a garment. Walking deeper into the bathroom, away from the door, however, Lyle found a section of thinner folded fabrics, also in a variety of colours and several with patterns on them. Were these the robes? Lyle picked a fabric with a design he liked, took it off the shelf, and unfolded it. It did indeed appear to be a garment of some kind. It wasn't fluffy like a bathrobe, and it didn't open at the front like a kimono; it was more like a long t-shirt, although it had pockets at the sides about halfway between the neck and the hem. Lyle put his head and arms through, then removed his towel and pulled the hem of the garment down. It easily covered his knees, but did not appear to be in danger of dragging on the floor. Lyle turned around to look at himself in the mirror. He had never worn such a garment before, but it looked like a reasonable thing to wear to a party: casual, but not sleepwear.

Having reached the end of the room, Lyle turned back toward the door. The toilet was no longer useful to him, and he didn't need the sink, having just showered, so he walked back to the front of the room. He put his towel in the washing machine as he didn't see another receptacle for it and didn't want to be carrying it around, and he retrieved the contents of his pants pockets from the shelf where he had left them and placed them in the pockets of his new robe. Then he unlocked the door and opened it to look back at the stage.

The curtain had been closed, and a "Wet Floor" sign had been placed on the stage. Lyle's sandals were still next to the door; he put them back on now that he was clean and dry. The girls from the "performance" were still there, chatting with each other off to the side. Despite what they had done earlier, Lyle didn't feel particularly threatened by them, and the night was still young, so he made his way toward them. Cynthia, who was in the group, noticed Lyle approaching and turned to face him. "Are you done?" she asked, smiling pleasantly.

"Yeah," Lyle said. He closed the rest of the distance between them and then Cynthia gave him a tight hug.

After a few seconds, Cynthia released the hug and asked, "Want to come check out our dance floor?"

"Yeah, that sounds fun," Lyle answered.

"Great, let's go!" Cynthia said. She led Lyle off stage, and the rest of the group went with them. Lyle was really looking forward to the rest of this party.