It was the day after Easter. Our house had been the meeting point for the extended family for our traditional get together and now that the festivities were over, plans were underway for everyone to leave and return home.
Some of the family had left the night before and now my mother and father were packing various aunts and cousins into the 4x 4 for the drive to the airport.
My younger sister had gone off to stay with friends for the week and I was left at home with Julie my mother’s step sister, who was staying on for a couple of days.
I thought little of it really. Julie busied herself around the house, tidying and washing up, while I tried to stay out of her way, watching nothing in particular on TV.
As she swept by with the broom Julie nudged my legs, to get me to lift them out of the way.
“Are you intending to sit there for the rest of the holiday?” she said wearily, “I think you might just take root on that sofa!”
It could have sounded like a bit of a scolding but it wasn’t really, Julie and I had always been quite fond of each other.
Actually “fond” doesn’t quite fit the bill when it comes to describing my own feelings.
It might sound a bit weird but Julie had long been the object of my adolescent fantasies.
She lived in an old rambling cottage in the country, all flowers, fields and farm animals, and my sister and I had often stayed there during summer holidays.
The growing pains of sexual awakening were well exercised as I would often try to sneak peeks down Julie’s ample cleavage. I told myself she never noticed but I was sure she did really, although she never acknowledged any of my indiscretions, and certainly never encouraged them.
Now that I was in college and much more grown up, I would have loved for her know that I still found her attractive at 36, but of course given the family set up that was completely out of the question.
Nevertheless, she had kept her figure, and her face was still young and fresh for her age. Her hair, which was nicely cut, straight and on the shoulder, might have had a touch of colour to keep its soft dark lustre, but everything else was in the most alluring good shape.
In fact, I always credit Julie will being the source of my pee fetish
. As a young boy, in those dog days of summer, with hormones racing through my sinews every time Julie brushed past, I was acutely aware that behind the closed door of the bathroom she would be “dealing with” her need to pee
. The pictures I conjured in my brain were the most vivid my rabid imagination could muster.
I tried to listen at the door whenever I got the chance but the walls were solid and the door heavy so it was never very clear.
Now, here we were, some years later, and she was staying over at ours. And by chance, I found myself home alone just me and her.
It occurred to me that right now might be a good time to take advantage of our much less sturdy construction to fulfil my boyhood dream.
My head was suddenly alive to the possibility of a good listen.
As I moved out of her way and stretched out on the sofa, I yawned conspicuously and casually announced that I thought I might have a beer.
“What, at two in the afternoon?” asked Julie glancing at her watch.
“I’m on holiday Julie, and actually, so are you. Why don’t you put that thing away and have one with me, you’ll wear yourself out with all that housework, and I’m sure Mum did it only yesterday”.
“Hmmm…oh go on then” she replied, “I’ve almost finished anyway, I’ll just nip up and change, get me a cold one from the fridge”.
The ploy had of course been to get her drinking to make her need the loo. I figured I had at least two hours before my parents got back, but as she was going upstairs I wondered whether she might actually need to go now.
As she disappeared into her room I loitered at the bottom of the stairs. She emerged after about two minutes with a change to a black stretch halter top and a bright lemon skirt just above the knee, and yes; she walked across the landing into the bathroom.
I slipped off my shoes and silently sprang upstairs, two at a time and pressed my ear to the bathroom door, listening intently for a telltale rustle of the skirt and hopefully the tinkling sound of her pee.
Nothing. Not a murmur.
My heart pounded as I pushed my right hand down the front of my jeans and strained my ear.
There was still no sound. Just as I began to realise that she wasn’t using the toilet after all, the lever clicked and the door opened.
She had the sort of fright you see on candid camera when someone pops their head out of a wheelie bin!
Her legs turned to jelly and she just squealed.
“For Chris’sake Steve what the hell are you doing?” She was genuinely disturbed as the reality of the situation dawned on her.
The fact that I was perving at the bathroom door was left unsaid, but she knew all right.
She just stared at me through crossed eyebrows as I sheepishly disappeared into my room making some lame excuse about just coming up for a DVD, and I had wanted the bathroom but couldn’t tell if it was free. It was pathetic!
Her body language was all indignant annoyance and at last she spoke up.
“You knew I was in there didn’t you” she accused.
“I wasn’t sure Julie, I though I’d better check in case you’d forgotten to lock the door”. - I tried to bluff it out.
I was nervous though and I couldn’t conceal my clumsy pretence.
“Steve, you were listening at the door, don’t try and hide it”.
Oh God. I was well and truly busted. I now had the choice of whether to continue the ridiculous charade or come clean and apologise.
I chose the latter, mainly because my embarrassment couldn’t get any higher and the affected innocence was failing spectacularly.
“Look I’m really sorry, it was just an impulse, I was on my way to my room and saw you go in and curiosity got the better of me.”
“But in the loo? I just don’t get it, I know when you were younger you were easy to see through, trying to look down my blouse and stuff, but this is strange”.
My ignominy was complete.
“You mean you knew all about that?”
“Yes of course, you were hopeless. I used to just put it down to teenage angst, don’t tell me those urges are unrequited”.
I blushed and said nothing. But my contrition had calmed her a little.
“Obviously, I’m on the money”, she sighed. “Come on down and get that beer”.
“Does that mean you’re forgiving me?” I asked meekly, completely at her mercy. “This will stay just between us won’t it?”
“I just don’t get it, what the hell were you expecting to get out of standing behind the bathroom door for Gods sake?”
Something penetrated the crushing humiliation and I just stammered out “Well it can be pretty erotic to hear a woman peeing, haven’t you ever heard of that?”
“Well actually yes I have”, she replied coyly, “I’m not altogether naïve, I do have a life, but I have to say I’ve never encountered it for real”.
She picked up her cold bottle from the fridge, snapped off the top and took a long pull. She cocked her head to the side and looked at me with an inquisitive expression.
Although calmer than she had been at first, there was no letting up on the horrible awkwardness and we sat in silence for quite some time.
Offering her another beer would have seemed contrived, but I wanted to steer her back to normality.
Then it seemed to occur to her that we had created a slight dilemma.
“Now I can’t even go to the bathroom without wondering whether you’re lurking outside, I think it would be best if I just packed and left. I’ll make some excuse”.
I desperately wanted to restore our good relationship
so I tried to allay her concern.
“Do you honestly think after this degree of embarrassment that I’d try that again? Please stay and try and forget it happened”.
“I think it’s the pee thing that has me baffled Steve”, she held her hand to her brow, perplexed at a concept of arousal she hadn’t given any previous thought. “I just wish I could understand what you were expecting to get out of it”.
Well you asked for it, I thought to myself. “Well if you’re asking, its just as baffling to me that more people don’t get aroused by it” I countered.
“How do you mean?”
“Well think about it. Firstly it’s a complete mystery. It’s something we’re not allowed to see, hidden away and involving exposing the parts of the body considered to be intimately private. Surely it’s the most natural thing in the world to have one’s curiosity aroused by that scenario. Then there’s the biology. As a small boy I just couldn’t work out how it happened. Girls don’t have willies, so how on earth does it work? In fact even now it’s shrouded in mystery”.
I could see from her furrowed brow that I had her interested.
“You mean you’re fascinated by learning how a women pee? Surely it’s not beyond you to read a book or something”.
“Yes yes .. that’s all very well but its mixed up as well with sexual chemistry and ….” I stopped.
Here we go. “Well I just find you unbelievably attractive and the thought of watching you on the toilet just blows my mind”.
She covered her face in shock, then slowly her hands slid down to reveal a wide eyed glare. As she lowered them further I saw that she was trying not to smile.
She sat quietly for a good minute, not sure how to react but I could tell that she was re-thinking her plan to leave on the next train out of there.
“It’s nice to get a compliment” she eventually conceded, “even if it is wrapped up in some twisted allusion of sexual frustration”.
“Yes, well you want to try harbouring unfulfilled fantasies, its hard sometimes”.
She giggled at the unintended innuendo.
She reached over and caressed my hair and I felt an electric shock running through my body. “I think I’m starting to feel sorry for you”, she murmured softly. “I guess you’re forgiven. What time is it?”
I glanced at my watch, “Just gone three, why?”
She paused for what seemed like forever, then sighed deeply. “I’m probably going to regret this for the rest of my days but if you want I’ll give you a little belated biology lesson. I’ll let you watch me go to the toilet”.
I almost fell to the floor in shock. I just hadn’t seen that coming.
“Come on, follow me if you want to see what happens, we’ll kill this curiosity thing once and for all”.
With that she stood up smoothed her skirt, flicked her hair back out of her eyes and put her soft brown arms around my waist, pulling my tummy into hers. My erection found its natural lie under my pants and pressed into the front of her skirt.
“But its not all about you, I want to feel the effect it has on this as well”, she rubbed the palm of her hand up the throbbing shaft, through my jeans, turned and started up the stairs with me following like an eager puppy.
As we entered the bathroom, Julie closed and locked the door behind us. “It doesn’t feel natural without doing that” she said.
“Do you want me to give you a running commentary?” she asked a little demurely.
“Oh yes please”.
“Well… when a woman feels the need to pee
there’s a sort of pressure in the lower tummy just here, as her bladder fills. I’m feeling that now, and I need to get to the loo quite quickly”.
I took my jeans and pants right off and stroked my cock vigorously, Julie swallowed hard at the sight of it.
“Now I need to get my knickers and tights down, because I need to make sure my little pee hole between my legs is free and over the bowl. So, to do that I just pull up my skirt like this”.
She took hold of the yellow cotton hem at the front and started to pull it up, revealing first her knees then her flesh toned nylon clad thighs, as her hands slid round to the side to completely expose her tights and black G string, framing her v shape pubic mound.
I was moaning in ecstasy.
“Then I take the waist band of my tights like this and the elastic of my knickers and I push them down my legs like this”.
She emphasised the word push” like it was some magician’s “open sesame” to reveal the trick. What it did reveal was her perf.... more