Oh, the Memories

Note: This story contains Female Wetting, Male Wetting, Foreplay, and Sex We were eighteen, shy and innocent; had been summer friends for ten years. Both families having cabins by the small lake, we just had to be together. There were more young people around that we met, became friends, drifted apart. But Kate was something special. And that summer something changed. It was the annual midsummer feast, everybody gathering in the clearing by the bay, barbecuing, playing games, children dipping their toes. My family had arrived that afternoon, my little sister seeking her best friend, and I hoped Kate was there. She was. Brown hair parted in the middle, green eyes, her body a little rounder than last year. Dressed in a white blouse and Levi’s jeans, barefoot in sandals. There was something in the air the instant we met. Oh the innocence. This is in a country where the concept of “dating” is totally unknown; it’s perfectly normal and accepted for a boy and a girl to be together informally, I could drop in on her anytime, we could go for a walk, we could slip off somewhere with no fear of retribution. Maybe because of that we felt that we had all the time in the world, there was no need to rush anything. We talked, summing up the past year, I watched the way she brushed her hair back behind her ear, followed the movement of her lips, noticed the curves of her hips in the worn jeans, saw the hint of straps under her blouse. She had no boyfriend, and I had no girlfriend. Pause. “Let’s walk,” she said. She led through the trees, to another undisturbed bay. It was way past midnight, but still light. The smaller children had gone to bed, and the grown–ups relaxed with lake–chilled beer. I watched her bottom as she walked, brushing past the bushes, jumping fallen branches. We sat on the boulders in our special place, silent. “Want to bathe?” I wondered. “I didn’t bring a …” She smiled at me. “Stupid answer. Of course I will.” She rose, still smiling. Unbuttoned her blouse ever so slowly. Kicked off her sandals, unzipped her jeans, folding her clothes neatly. She wore white cotton panties and kept her bra on. I’d seen girls in magazines, undressed in all kinds of underwear, but this was the sexiest sight I’d seen. We stepped gingerly down to the water, shivering as it rose to our knees and above. I watched her thighs slip into the water, watched the white cotton turn dark and then disappear. Holding our breath we submerged, swimming outwards with slow strokes. I imagined her body gliding through the water. I took the opportunity to relieve myself, enjoying the warmth. I imagined her doing the same, letting go in the water. After some minutes we turned back and climbed onto the rocks again. The air was still warm; we sat down to dry. “Oh, I forgot to pee,” she said, smiling coyly. “Well, you’re wet already,” I blurted out, “so just go in your panties.” “Okay,” she said, spreading her legs slightly, letting it flow through the white cotton and down the rocks. I had to adjust myself to keep from spraining my briefs. “Let’s go back,” she said. “I’m thirsty.” She stood up, turned her back to me, and removed her underwear before putting her jeans and blouse on. I could see her nipples through the fabric, and the thought of her naked in her jeans turned me on immensely. About five AM, clutching cold beers by the dying fire, our hands met and held. The next day we met in the bay again, finding our way to the boulders. She wore a flowery dress, bra straps showing. Shyly we embraced and kissed, then sat down to drink Cokes and talk. “You made me pee my panties last night,” she said, stroking my arm. “I didn’t have to persuade you,” I answered. “Well, I just wanted to do it. Did you mind?” “Oh no! It was the most sexy thing you’ve ever done.” “Really?” “Yes. It was – like we belong together. Doing private things in front of each other.” She squeezed my arm. “Can I watch you pee?” I rose and unzipped my shorts. She stared as I sprayed the bushes, sitting with legs apart, giving me a glimpse of her panties under her dress. She wet her lips. “Now you,” I said, zipping up. Slowly she got to her feet, dress waving. Her breath made her breasts heave. She brushed her hair back with that familiar gesture and looked at me. “Shall I pee for you?” I nodded. She touched the hem of her dress, coyly. Her eyes had a different expression. She lifted her dress a couple of inches, showing a tiny bit of white panty. Then she pulled the dress above her navel, giving me a flash view before dropping the hem again. “You sure you want to see?” She said teasingly. “Come on, Kate, show me again!” She lifted her dress once more, this time letting me see her panties and the bare belly above them. She turned around, showing me her lovely butt before dropping the dress again. Facing me, she reached up under her dress, pulled her panties down to mid–thigh, and squatted. The golden stream burst from her dark bush, running over the rocks under her. She let the stream dwindle, and then rose and pulled her panties back up. “Oops,” she said, “the last drops went in my panties.” I embraced her and kissed her.
Some days later we went to the bay again, putting our towels down on the grass fifty yards from the water. She wore her swimsuit under her dress, so there was no need for tricky maneuvers to undress. The swimsuit was dark blue and fit incredibly tight on her shapely body. Last summer the fabric had been hanging loosely on her chest. After lying still for a while she rose on her elbows and looked at me. “I have to pee,” she said, crossing her legs for emphasis. “Just go in the water,” I said. “I don’t feel like bathing yet.” I pointed to the bushes. “Back there, then.” “Too far,” she said lazily. “Watch this.” She sat up, removing the towel from under her. Sitting spread–legged on the grass she let go in her swimsuit, turning the color of her crotch into shining black with a hissing sound. “There,” she said, “didn’t that feel good!” I lay on my stomach to avoid embarrassment. She kissed my neck and whispered: “One day I’ll pee in your lap.”
She turned nineteen in August. There was a party, of course, featuring everybody. I put on my best jeans and even buttoned my shirt all the way up. Kate was stunning. The Levi’s girl was transformed into a lady, with her hair set up, a halter–top, and a tiny miniskirt over tan tights. We ate and drank, danced, and owned the world. Late in the evening she held me, eyes shining, while she moved from foot to foot. “Martin. Come with me.” “Where to?” “You know, when a girl’s got to go…” She squeezed her legs together. “And I’ve got a present for you.” “But it’s your…” “Shhh. Come on.” Walking on high heels in the woods didn’t seem easy, especially as she appeared to need a bathroom quite soon. Well out of sight of the others she stopped. “Sit there. No, take your jeans off first.” I did as I was told. She sat on my lap, straddling me, giving me a full view of her white panties through the tights under the short skirt. I held her butt, and she kissed me. “Look at me,” she said. “No, down there. I told you I was going to do this.” To my amazement she began peeing, flooding her underwear and wetting her skirt. She took my hand and put it on herself, letting me feel the hot flow. The stream ran over my thighs. She put a hand in my briefs and grabbed me. “Some day I’ll sleep with you. But until then…” Walking back, my eyes were fixed to the wet crescent on her butt.
The last Saturday of the holiday we went for a long walk. We camped by a stream, unrolling blankets and sleeping bags, building a fire, making tea. I had a couple of cans of beer in my sack as well. The night was hot. Kate sat on a log by the fire, having changed from jeans to black leggings, sipping beer. On the way she had stopped to pee a couple of times, just squatting in front of me, grinning at my interest. She emptied the can, flattened it, and put it back in my sack. She rubbed her belly. “My bladder is full,” she said. “Do you want to sleep with me?” I held her and nodded. She pressed her body against mine. “I want you in me,” she said. “God, I’m nearly wetting myself. Undress me!” I pulled the sweater over her head, taking care to touch her breasts and soft armpits. Then I took hold of the elastic waistband of her leggings and pulled them down, feeling the curves of her hips. She wriggled her butt to aid me. Standing in bra and panties she smiled at me, both innocent and daring. I knelt down and kissed her belly while stroking the soft insides of her thighs. She moaned and held my head. I slid my hand up, cupping her sex, feeling warm wetness against my palm. She shivered. “Come,” she said, pulling me down on the blankets, removing my clothes. I lay beside her, stroking her belly, kissing her breasts, slipping my hand inside her panties. She peed, a strong, short stream, warming my hand. I nearly came on the spot. I knelt between her legs, fascinated by the wet circle in her crotch. I touched it, pressing the wet fabric against her sex, prompting another spurt. Slowly I removed her panties, exposing her dark bush and her moist slit. Pressing softly on her belly made her pee again, in a beautiful golden arch. I couldn’t wait any longer and entered her. Afterwards we lay on the soaked blankets, caressing, kissing. After getting her breath back she straddled me, wet bush tickling my stomach. “Tell you something?” She said. “Yes, Kate?” “We’re moving.” “Oh. Where?” “Two blocks from you. This autumn we’ll be schoolmates!” With that, she lifted her butt, looked down on herself, and peed all over me.
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