Valentine Surprise

She stood stiffly with legs clenched tight and both hands pushed firmly against her groin. A gorgeous brunette, her exotic tanned features contorted by a longing desperation that served only to enhance her natural beauty. Robbo felt his penis harden inside his jeans. There was nothing she could do now. A slight sigh and a faint look of shocked realization started to form on her face. Then the first trickle as her long held urine started to seep down the inside of her stocking clad legs from under her pristine white dress. There was no avoiding it now. She was wetting herself!
Robbo was rudely startled out of his daydream by the shrill ring of the telephone. He turned and glared angrily at it, shifting slightly on the kitchen stool as he did so. Suddenly the beer mat came free from under its wobbly leg and the stool rocked violently causing Robbo to make a startled grab for the edge of the kitchen table. The phone continued to ring. Robbo gave it another angry glare then looked back out of his kitchen window at the street below. The beautiful brunette in the white dress with the Spanish looks was gone. Typical. It was Valentine’s Day and she was probably the nearest thing he was going to get to release his fantasies, if only in his head.
Into its third ring now and Robbo just glowered at it like it was the root of all his troubles. Alone on Valentine’s Day and feeling completely dejected. Well he had been trying. Out on the pull last night– a few pubs and a club. After seven, or maybe eight, pints of lager the girls just did not seem interested in his romantic slobbering. Maybe he was looking for too much. Spoilt by Ibiza last summer. Oh Stephanie. Robbo remembered that first night so well.
She had staggered up to him inside Manumission. Plastered. There was always something that turned him on about a girl who is drunk. Maybe the knowledge of what the alcohol sometimes does to their self–control, and maybe, just maybe, they end up having a naughty accident.
‘Can you help me?’ She had purred in a sexy Spanish accent, her pleading doe eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief.
‘Sure.’
‘I’m really, really desperate for the toilet but the queue for the ladies is sooo long I think I wont make it.’
‘Uh’ was all Robbo had managed to gargle in surprise as his penis jumped to attention.
‘Can you take me to the toilet– to the gents’ room, please? Or I think I will wet myself’. Robbo looked down at the tight black miniskirt she was wearing, with the dark stockinged legs and the black high–heeled shoes. His overactive imagination could almost picture the puddle of pee forming around them.
‘Will you?’ Stephanie pleaded. ‘I don’t feel safe going into the gents on my own’.
‘Oh of course, no problem,’ Robbo asserted manfully as he led her through the dancing crowd. They never made it.
There was a queue for the gents as well. Stephanie gasped in alarm when she saw it, then quickly led him to a seating area to the side.
‘Don’t you want to go?’
‘Its too late’ Stephanie looked as if she was going to cry. She crossed her legs tightly. ‘I’ll never make it now’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Will you kiss me?’
‘Uh?’ Then Stephanie embraced him in a long and passionate snog.
Mid snog Robbo overcame his surprise and slid an arm around her waist. Alcohol removing his inhibitions, he slid his hand lower, then onto her leg, and up her seductively short skirt. She uncrossed her legs. Robbo remembered it so well. In an instant his fingers were probing her most intimate place through the warmth of her panties. Then the warmth grew wetter and her snogging more passionate and she completely pissed herself.
She stayed the night in his hotel room, and the next day things got even hotter. It turned out that wetting was her thing. She did it everywhere. She wet herself on the beach. She wet herself at the local Spanish market. She even wet herself on his lap, and Robbo captured it all on her camcorder. Then she was on her way. New travels, new boyfriends, new wet adventures and Robbo was left bitter with broken promises. ‘I’ll call you.’ She promised. ‘I’ll send you a copy of the tape’ she promised. She even hinted at setting him up with a girlfriend she had who lived somewhere in South London, and he believed her. What a prat he felt now, after all those months under sobering mournful gray British skies.
Then the telephone stopped ringing and clicked onto the answer phone. Robbo just looked at it. It was probably just another irritating git trying to sell him British Gas again or something.
‘Hi Robbo its Stephanie. Remember me?’ Started the message seductively. ‘Long time no see, but I know its Valentine’s Day over there and you are probably out with some lovely lady right now … ‘ Robbo recovered from his startled surprise and launched himself off his stool towards the telephone.
‘Oh Stephanie, I always knew you’d call,’ Robbo almost shouted. Instead he gave a muffled yell as the stool rocked off its beer mat again and it, he and his half empty coffee cup clattered onto the kitchen floor.
‘… So I thought I’d send you something to keep you company in case you are not. Something coming to your door very shortly…’
‘Stephanie!’ Robbo yelled down the phone, half kneeling on the hallway carpet as he finally made it to the telephone. The dulcet tones of a closed connection moaned back at him mournfully. ‘Damn, damn, damn!’ Robbo cursed. Then the doorbell rang.
Making his way down to the font door of his flat Robbo cursed himself for not answering the phone sooner. The doorbell rang again as Robbo kicked aside a freshly fallen pile of property guides. It was probably just Biffo again. He usually called about this time on a Saturday afternoon, half cut and demanding that Robbo join him for a drink, which roughly translated really meant. ‘I’ve run out of money again and want you to do the buying.’ That was one disadvantage of living above Corky’s Wine Bar. Still, drowning his sorrows with Biffo was beginning to appeal to him. He opened the door, but it wasn’t Biffo.
There she stood, on his doorstep. Low cut white dress. Seductively stockinged legs, long brunette hair draped across her shoulders just the way he liked it and dark Mediterranean features displaying … no he was just imagining it. ‘Can I help you?’ Inquired Robbo cautiously as he realized that this was the girl he had been staring at out of his kitchen window. Had she come to complain? Did she have a large boyfriend waiting just out of sight ready to deck him?
‘Hi I’m sorry to bother you but… er … this is really embarrassing, but I really need to go to the toilet. I was wondering if I could use yours?’ She purred as she gave a little hop from one foot to the other.
‘The landlord wont mind if you use the toilets in Corky’s, replied Robbo without thinking.
‘Oh but I’ve just been in there. I met some girlfriends for lunch, only, they all left now and anyway there was this drunk leering at me and I don’t really want to go back in. He was a big bloke with a tattoo. He really frightened me. Please can I use your loo, its an emergency?’ Then she gave another more pronounced hop.
‘Oh that’s just Biffo!’ laughed Robbo. ‘He’s harmless, but my toilet’s much nicer than the ones in Corky’s. Go on up!’ Said Robbo regaining his senses.
He watched her climb the stairs, her pretty bottom swinging seductively under her short white dress. Wow, what a surprise this had turned out to be. ‘First door on the right!’ Robbo called after her.
‘This one?’
‘That’s it. Just go in. Sorry about the mess but I wasn’t…’
‘That’s alright!’ She called back happily, and then tried the door handle. ‘It’s stuck’
‘Shouldn’t be,’ called back Robbo as he hurried up the stairs to join her. She stood aside as he gripped the door handle. It never stuck? Robbo turned the handle, then a wave of realization washed over him like a bucket of cold water dragging him back to his senses.
Robbo pushed at the door with the half turned handle rattling against the catch. ‘Must be the cold. The wood seizes up and the door sometimes jams.’ He lied. ‘I’ll put the radiator on. It normally opens when it’s warmed up. Can you wait?’
‘I think so, for a short while,’ she smiled seductively.
Robbo looked at the phone and whispered a silent thank you. As if Stephanie would let him down, why did he ever doubt her? She had obviously got her London friend to give him a little Valentine surprise. What an amazing Valentine’s Day present this was.
‘Would you like a drink– Tea, Coffee, Beer? You know, while we wait?’
‘Oh yes please. Where shall we go, through here?’
‘Kitchen’s fine.’
‘You had an accident in here or something?’ She called back.
Robbo joined her in the kitchen and looked down at the fallen stool and the pool of coffee dripping off the table and puddling onto the floor. ‘Oh umm, the phone rang and my mind was elsewhere. I’ll get some paper to mop it up.’
Robbo returned with an old property guide and his thoughts in order. ‘How rude of me,’ he apologized. ‘I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Robbo.’
‘Nadia,’ she replied.
‘Nice to meet you.’ Then they stood in an awkward silence.
‘Er…coffee please,’ began Nadia, breaking the silence. ‘A large one if I may. I had about five pints of Kronenburg down Corky’s and I think it’s gone to my head a bit.’ Robbo’s penis stiffened. She had looked a bit unsteady on her feet. A drunken girl. Oh what bliss. Robbo poured himself a beer as he switched on the kettle. The least he could do was to try to catch up with the poor mare. ‘I’d help you clean up but I think that if I bent down right now there could be more liquid on the floor than there is now.’ Instead Nadia took a cloth to the table and started scrubbing vigorously at the coffee stain on the table. Robbo squatted down beside her to work on the puddle on the floor. Her legs were about a foot apart and her dress flapped seductively across them as she scrubbed. Robbo stared, almost salivating. This girl had legs– two long stocking clad lengths of sexual perfection right the way up under her flapping dress. Robbo gazed at the hemline and wondered. Should he have a peek underneath? Could he? As she was leaning across the table then surely she wouldn’t notice if he had a quick look up her skirt. Maybe she had already started dribbling. What a treat that would be to see! The tale–tell signs of a naughty wet patch on the crotch of her panties or even the beginnings of a dribble down her leg. Then Nadia finished scrubbing, threw the cloth into the sink and sat down on the stool. Robbo just had time to slip the beer mat under the wobbly leg then just managed to avoid being hit by her knee as she swung herself on to the stool. For an instant her legs were open and Robbo had a full on view. There was a wet patch. He was sure he had seen one.
A coffee and several beers later they were laughing and joking, like old friends. She was beautiful– a strange mix of Irish and Spanish. The Spanish descent explained her Mediterranean good looks, the skin, the hair, and the entire package. The Irish possibly explaining the amount of his beer she was getting through. Where was she putting it all, her bladder must be about ready to burst? She had kept her legs crossed for the last ten minutes, and her subtle wriggling on the stool was driving Robbo wild. His penis was now constantly tight against the inside of his pants.
‘… I had this friend at College. She would only have to drink about a pint and that was it, she would be off to the loo.’ Nadia continued their surreal conversation about how much easier it was for men to go in public than women.
‘Did she ever… not make it?’ Robbo dared to ask.
‘I don’t think so, but. …’ Then Nadia burst into a stifled giggle holding one hand over her mouth and starting to go red. ‘Susan. Oh, Susan at our graduation party. She got completely plastered. She couldn’t even stand up, so we just left her sitting on the edge of the patio outside the pub. I don’t know who noticed it first but someone said something and we all looked around and there was this puddle spreading out from under Susan’s bottom. I thought she’d spilt her drink at first, and then we realized. She was wetting herself!’
Robbo took a moment to take in the image. Wow that would have been worth seeing. Then he got a bit bolder.
‘Have you ever… done anything like that?’
Nadia’s eyes rested on him in careful contemplation. ‘You know, if I don’t get to the toilet soon I think I might just have an accident on your kitchen floor.’ She said with a more pronounced wriggle.
‘Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of paper,’ Robbo teased, getting even bolder. Then he sat, enduring the awkward silence that followed.
‘Do you think that door will open now?’ demanded Nadia.
‘Er I’ll go and have a look.’
‘No I’ll do it.’
Nadia carefully slid herself off the stool and walked across the kitchen out of sight. Robbo watched her leave the room wondering if he’d pushed it a little too far. Would she find that the toilet door really would open?
After lots of rattling and banging Robbo went to investigate, finding Nadia gripping the door handle and bent double with her hand pushed firmly against her crotch. She made an effort to straighten up and regain her composure when she saw him.
‘Still no luck?’
‘No I’m going to try the ladies’ in Corky’s. Sod Biffo or what ever his name is.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ offered Robbo, trying to hide his disappointment. He must have said something really wrong. Nadia just glared at him and Robbo started to feel his skin crawl. How was he going to back out of this one?
‘No not actually into the ladies,’ Robbo managed to stammer. A smile touched the corners of Nadia’s lips.
‘No don’t make me laugh’ she stammered, then grimaced and pressed her hand tight against herself as another surge of desperation stabbed through her bladder.
‘I’ll try kicking it,’ offered Robbo feeling compelled to say something.
‘No I’m going to Corky’s,’ Nadia asserted as she turned to make her way down the stairs. She managed one step, then turned and stepped carefully back onto the landing.
‘I don’t think I can make it,’ she gasped, wiping back a tear of desperation as she hobbled past Robbo back into the kitchen. Robbo got a good look at the front of her dress, as she brushed past. There was definitely a damp spot where her hand had been.
In the kitchen Nadia stood with one leg raised and her hand pushed unashamedly up her dress.
‘What are you going to do?’ asked Robbo lamely. Nadia started a sort of hopping, treading motion and beads of sweat started to appear on her forehead.
‘Do you have a bucket?’
‘Er, yes.’
‘Can you get it… quickly?’
Robbo turned and rummaged around in the cupboard under the sink. When he turned back with his red window–cleaning bucket in hand he found to his surprise that Nadia was sat back on her stool.
‘You don’t need it?’
‘Er, sorry about that, I just got a bit desperate. I can wait a bit longer.’
‘Oh,’ replied Robbo, a bit confused, but certainly not disappointed that the performance was continuing. ‘I’d better rinse it out in case you do need it. It’s had Windowlene and all sorts all over it.’ With that Robbo clattered the bucket into the sink and turned on both taps full blast, hearing Nadia gasp as he did so. Stemming the flow to an agonizing trickle, Robbo made a show of fumbling and dropping the sponge that he had taken out of it.
Now back under the table Robbo took a close look at Nadia’s legs. The sight of a damp trickle down the inside of her tights would have been bliss, but he could make out nothing with her legs tightly crossed. As if she had read his thoughts Nadia slowly uncrossed them. Robbo was rewarded with a full on view up her dress, and yes, there was definite darkening down her left leg almost up to her knee. Then her face appeared, hair dangling down as she peered under the table to look at him.
‘Robbo what are you doing down there?’ she demanded. Robbo was startled, caught in the act. Then Nadia leaned to far. The stool started to tip sideways, one leg teetering on the edge of the beer mat. It went, clattering to the floor. Nadia grabbed the table, and somehow managed to stop from joining it on the floor. Robbo rose. Nadia stepped back to steady herself, her jaw dropped in stunned shock. Then came a hissing sound and Nadia relaxed slightly. The inside of her tights darkened rapidly and the stream turned to a torrent as Nadia stood there shocked, wetting herself all over the floor. Robbo stared at the quickly spreading puddle. This was wonderful. This beautiful brunette was standing in the middle of Robbo’s kitchen, feet slightly apart, wetting herself. She gasped, and pressed her hands against her fanny to try to stem the flow. It was a mistake. The front of her pristine white dress quickly darkened as her urine streamed down the front of it.
Nadia’s bladder took ages to empty. When she had finished she was left standing in the middle of a massive puddle. Standing there blushing and completely disgraced she offered her apologies. Offered to clean up the mess, to make it up to him somehow. Robbo in turn offered his reassurances. How did she plan to make it up to him? Robbo couldn’t wait to find out. The thought of watching a beautiful girl on her hands and knees in her soiled clothing cleaning up her own puddle really appealed to him, but he gallantly offered to clean up secretly hoping that she would insist.
What bliss. She didn’t disappoint. Robbo watched her leaving wet footprints as she hurried off down the hallway to fetch an old property guide or two. Again he whispered a big thank you to the phone and blew it a large kiss. Nadia was wonderful. Stephanie really knew what he liked.
Nadia reappeared with a large armful of papers, and a strange brown package perched on top.
‘Did you know there was a package for you downstairs?’ Began Nadia. ‘It looks like its from France. Somewhere foreign anyway, there’s an Airmail sticker on it.’
‘Airmail? France?’ Robbo hurriedly ripped the paper off. It was definitely from Stephanie. A video, and a note as well. Hurriedly he read it as Nadia got down on her hands and knees on the kitchen floor. What, more surprises? ‘Hope you like the video.’ The note began. ‘Sorry it took so long but I wanted to wait until my friend from London could come over and help me edit it. She’s training in Media Studies. We are both skiing in Chamonix now. Its amazing what you can get away with in a pair of ski pants…’ A wave of horror swept through him. If Stephanie’s friend was in France, then who was the girl cleaning up her own puddle in his kitchen?
Aaron