An erotic story by Jeremy Edwards - (c) 2006

Playing tennis with Candice was always hard work–for both of us. We each hit the water bottle a lot during those luxurious summer Sundays on the court. And then sometimes, when the sun began its slow, late-afternoon descent and we were ready to relax the pace a bit, we’d pull a couple of beers out of her cooler.On one such occasion, it became clear at the end of yet another close match that Candice and I were both jiggling for a good piss, as the brews and H20 coursed through us.

“Do you have to pee as badly as I do,” she called to me from across the court. This end of the park was empty except for us, so she was able to shout this fairly personal question without any inhibitions. It sounded sexy, though, to hear my beautiful lover shouting to me in the open air about how she had to take a leak. I’d had the good fortune to observe that Candice embodied a particular kind of erotic beauty on the commode, her soft, intimate regions the source of ashimmering fountain. So for her to mention the need was always enough to turn me on.

“You know it!” I grinned, as we met at the net. I noticed her left hand darting momentarily to the front of her shorts. Her knees were pressed together. She smiled in a way that looked a little kinky.

“Wanna try something?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said, agreeably. I didn’t know what she had in mind, but that question–and that smile–had always led to nice things.

We headed off the court in the direction of the changing rooms, and Candice took my hand. “I thought it might be fun to do a double wetting,” she said softly.

I didn’t get her drift. It had sounded like she’d said “double wedding,” and the two of us had barely discussed marriage. But I was too intrigued–and too eager to take my dick out of my shorts and let the beer flow–to hold things up with a lot of questions.

To my surprise, she led me right past the locker building, into a secluded bit of lawn beyond. A moment later, while we swayed and held ourselves, she surprised me further by sitting me down on the grass, and then seating herself on my lap, with her back to me. Feeling her ass on my fly made me start to get hard, but I was still ready to spill over with pee any second.

Candice jiggled on top of me, and I finally realized what she had in mind. “Okay,” she announced, with a touch of breathless anticipation in her sexy voice. “When I count to 3 we both let go, all right?” She didn’t wait for an answer, but began to count. “1 . . . 2. . .3!”

I heard a lewd hissing from under her ass, and I did my part by relaxing every tensed muscle in my lap. A warm, wet bliss rolled over me as my tennis shorts soaked up Candice’s flood of womanly water and my own bladder full of fluid. Her saturated crotch generated a river that merged with my own spreading wetness, a confluence of mutual release that mingled intimately where her throbbing cunt pressed through our flimsy clothing, urgent against my pumping hose.

Even while we were still wetting, her moans indicated that her enjoyment had crossed way over the line from the basic physical pleasure of urinating into something powerfully sexual. And when we finally, finally finished, we could not peel our soaked shorts and underwear fast enough. I had quickly developed a huge erection, and her piss-glistening pussy was slick and hungry. With our pants at our ankles, she wriggled her ass back down toward my lap until her wet lips kissed the tip of my member.

After an instant of this titillating contact, we screwed our sexes further into place and began a delicious bounce. Her back, warm with perspiration, pressed tightly against my chest, and her ass squirmed against my abdomen. I heard the sounds of pee-kissed flesh squishing to our rhythm. As I fucked her right there on my lap, I reached around to finger her nipples through her tennis shirt, taking care also to tickle her under her arms, which was guaranteed to send Candice into ecstasies. Her climax and mine came rushing through us mere instants later.

Scarcely had the orgasms receded when she hopped off me, squatted mere feet away, and let loose another torrent of pee, this time onto the dry grass. She giggled girlishly while I watched the luscious stream roar out of her. Her bare ass pulsated as it watered the terrain below.

***Jeremy Edwards (AKA Jerotic) hangs his hat (or is that a cap with little horns?) at My Space. Be sure to visit him there and give him a holler. He is a most interesting bloke and I will tell you more about that tomorrow. So make sure you come back!

This entry was posted on Wednesday, August 30th, 2006 at 12:36 am and is filed under Bad Boys Gone Good, Brain Games, KinKergarten, Rhetorically Yours. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.