Cecily's Night Out

Cecily and I were out Saturday dancing, going easy on the drink, but enjoying the motion and heat. As usual, she was dressed in her favorite outfit of dark panty hose under a very, very short miniskirt and a halter–top that left her navel bare. She wore her long brown hair in a rugged ponytail, making her look younger than her twenty–eight years.She wiped the sweat from her forehead as we returned to the table, heading for a cold coke. The place was quite crowded, and a group of people had sat down right next to us. Cecily nodded at the girl beside her, stretched her legs under the table and finished the coke. The girl turned to us, saying she hoped it was OK to sit there. It turned out she was not with the group; her name was Vicki, and we talked a bit through the music. She was wearing a white t–shirt, no bra, and tight jeans, had black hair with a fringe and a ready smile. Early twenties, I guessed. When she asked for a dance I nearly rose before I realized she was talking to Cecily. Cecily looked quickly at me, and stood up, smoothing her skirt. Vicki went first over to the dance floor. I had ordered a couple of beers while they were away. They came back looking flushed, and Cecily seemed to need some fluids. The girls were talking, I was content to lose myself in the music and wind down after a hectic week. After a while they headed for the floor again. I watched them go; similar in height, but Cecily a little bit rounder although Vicki had a nice butt in the pocket–less jeans. I’m not ashamed of noticing these things; in fact, I could even talk to Cecily about it. Founded on complete trust our relationship was not threatened by appreciating the looks of other people. I saw Vicki head for the bar, and Cecily returned to me. “Got yourself a date,” I said teasingly.
She looked at me. “This is no joke. She fondled my bottom.” “What?”
She smiled wonderingly. “At first we were just moving separately, but then she put her hands on my hips and pulled me closer. I could feel her hands trace my panty lines, and I swear she had a finger under my skirt.” “Small wonder. You look absolutely stunning.” “But a girl?” “Good taste.” “John!” “OK. You mind?” She thought for a second. “Don’t know. It was strange. I got all – you know, shaky, but felt a little bit scared as well. She said…” “Yes?” Cecily took my hand and looked me in the eyes. “She said she had no panties on.” “Girl, you have a new date.” She kissed me. “Help,” she whispered. I shook my head. “This is your chance. Do what you feel is right.” “Sure?” “Sure.” Vicki sat down beside her again. They talked, Vicki emphasizing her points by touching Cecily’s arm. Cecily gulped down half her beer. Then Vicki grabbed her hand and made her rise. Fifteen minutes later Cecily was back, cramming something in her hands. Even more flushed, brown tresses hanging from her head, legs tightly together. “John!” “Yes, love.” “She wants to take me home. She’s waiting outside.” Like I said, we have a trusting relationship. What would I do? Stand up and make her leave? Demand to come with them? Get mad? I love Cecily. It’s as simple as that. “Go,” I said, squeezing her hands, which were holding some thin fabric. “If you want to. What happened?” She bit her lip. “She said she was almost peeing her pants, and did I want to go with her? She just pulled me along, into a cubicle, and stood looking at me. She was squeezing her legs, holding her belly. You go first, she said. I almost wet myself. She watched me, and stroked my knees while I was peeing. And–” “Yes?” “She asked me to take my panties off.” Before I could ask if she complied, she thrust something damp and frilly into my hands. “John, I must be crazy. I got turned on watching her pee.” “Be crazy,” I said with a silly–looking grin. “Enjoy yourself.” “Sure? –Love you!” She kissed me hard and left. Past midday on Sunday she came home, quite silent, but giving me an extra hug and looking deeply into my eyes. She changed into leggings and a sweater, and sat down in a chair. Got up again, and sat next to me in the sofa. “Thanks,” she said. I said nothing. “You’re incredible.” “No, you are,” I said, putting my arm around her. “It was weird,” she said softly. “Walking away with her. She held my hand like it was all a matter of course. I was so turned on, and could feel the nylon against my fanny with every step. Inside her apartment she led me to the living room, got out a bottle of white wine and two glasses, and we cuddled up on the sofa. ‘Cecily, she said, Do you want to sleep with me?’ I didn’t have to answer; she just kissed me. Soft kisses, I could smell her perfume and a soft girl smell. I felt her breasts against mine and put my hands on her hips. When she slid a hand along the inside of my legs I almost wet myself. Cecily took my hand and stared into space. –She put on some slow music, and we danced. Belly against belly, cheek to cheek. All the while she stroked the skin on my back, and I couldn’t resist holding her butt. Feeling the roundness. Sniffing the scent of her. Then I had to pee. She asked me to wait. Said she had to go too, but loved to hold on for as long as she could. Loved the feeling of a full bladder, anticipating the release. Sometimes I wet my jeans a bit, she said. She asked if I had ever done it.” “Did you tell her?” Cecily put her head on my shoulder. “Yes,” she whispered. “I told her about that time we missed the last bus and had to walk, and by the time we were home my shorts were soaking. She said she loved the thought of that. She wished she had seen me.” “By then I was bursting for a wee. She took me to the bedroom, put some towels on the bed, and made me lie down. She…” “Yes, love?” “She stroked me through the pantyhose, and I couldn’t help peeing myself. I was so embarrassed. She pulled my skirt off, kissed my face and said it was all right to let go in my pants. Would I feel better if she wet herself too? She sat cross–legged, and I watched while she peed in her jeans. Then she touched me again and – John, I wet her bed. And then I put my hand in her jeans and fingered her. Touched another girl’s fanny. She was shaved, John. Not a hair on her. And her pee was warm against my hand. Girl pee. I loved it.” “Cecily fondled my hand. We slept in each other’s arms all night. Woke up, stroked each other, kissed nipples, she kissed my fanny. Afterwards we showered, peeing on each other’s hands, and had breakfast just like an ordinary couple. She lent me a pair of panties and a dry pair of pantyhose. Said I could give it back some time if I wanted to.” Cecily looked at me. “Do you want to?” I asked. She thought for a while. “Maybe. But I have been missing something. Something that a girl cannot give me.” I sensed her hand on me. “But I think I need a towel.”
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