Vincent's Curtsy

I’ve always been fascinated by a technique some women use as a last resort of holding back: sitting on their heels. In a recent post on a message board I learned that there was even a medical term for this, called “Vincent’s Curtsy”. This prompted me to write down the following true account:
I once had one of my most erotic – if not THE most memorable – sighting of a girl sitting on her heels. I was fascinated beyond belief and every detail was burned into my memory. It was in a pedestrian zone, shortly after all the shops had closed and most people were heading back home. So was I, when I walked by this lady sitting NEXT to a bench in the middle of the pedestrian zone. She was sitting on her right heel and balancing herself with her right hand, fingertips spread.
I noticed the expression on her face and she let out something like a moan, so I decided to casually sit on the bench about 2 meters away from her. Her left hand was over her stomach. She was trying not to hold herself – and never did during the following. She was telling, or rather muttering incomplete sentences, like (translated) “Gawd, so desperate” … “Ahh, urgent” … “Oooh” … “sssssh, gawd”
Her friend kept asking her to stand up and come with her, and said something like, “we can go over there” and told her she’d find her a spot right “over there. Come on.”
“I can’t,” was the answer. She was shivering from time to time, her face in agony. She’d bend over every now and then, clutching her belly and rocking forward on her heel. She and her friend, both in their late twenties, had been drinking – the standing one was a bit tipsy, but they weren’t drunk. They probably had a beer or two in the nearby park, went shopping before they’d miss closing time – even though one of them was desperate, and were on their way back to the park when one of them couldn’t walk any further. She sat there on the cobblestones, her pisshole pressed against the heels of her shoes and kept repeating “I can’t” – more to herself, like some kind of enchantment, pressing out the words under her breath clipping the last syllable. This went on for at least fifteen minutes. At some point the standing girl took her hand, the one the desperate one used for balancing and held it, persuading her to stand up and come with her. “It’s right there” (translated – this was in Europe she said something like “it’s right in front”), she moaned. “It won’t go back.” Then came something electrifying, when the desperate woman told her friend that, “something came,” the other one looked concerned, then asked her something I couldn’t hear.
“About two seconds,” was the reply. There was a park about 80 yards away, right behind two shopping centers. There was a narrow roofed passage between the two malls and a row of bushes right at the end. You could see them from where she was sitting. Then came the most erotic part – she tried to stand up. When her friend (who was quite sympathetic, she didn’t nag her, just kept asking her to try, “look, you can go right over there”) persuaded her to stand up slowly, she moved her left foot closer to the one she was sitting on and very, very slowly brought it close to her right leg. She kind of shuffled it backwards inch by inch. But she couldn’t cross them, which she was probably intending to do, without taking the pressure from her abdomen on her heel. Eventually (she kept sighing and letting out short and muted huffs and puffs throughout) she pressed her thighs together, and trembling she attempted to stand up. She managed to cross her legs once her (slim) ass was about 10–20 inches away from her heel, still crouching and clutching her belly.
She quickly crossed her legs further pushing her left leg as far right as she could. And then she suddenly sat down again; or rather she fell back on her heel. Her left foot crossed over her right, leaving her with almost no balance. She had obviously felt a spurt and sat back down again. But in her position she couldn’t press her heel as firmly into her crotch (try that position: kneeling with your left foot over your right) She depended on her girlfriend to hold her (remember, she was holding her hand all the while) she complained once again that she had “let go.” After quite a while she managed to stand up, crossing her legs – and not holding herself for one second – all the time. Then standing up VERY slowly, she inched her way up first bending forward and then straightening the upper part of her body. Every now and then she stopped to press her knees together. I couldn’t see any wet spot; she was wearing black jeans anyway. But if she had lost a lot it would surely have shown nonetheless. Then she stood for a couple of seconds as if nothing had happened, no pee–dance, no crouching actually she stood quite still almost relaxed before her friend directed her towards the bushes. I knew that my chance had come, but I didn’t want to spoil a lifetime sighting by making it too obvious – and if they would have yelled something at me there would have been people in the park. They went into that narrow path between the shops and I decided to go around the buildings and watch them as they were coming out to go into the bushes. After I was out of their sight I ran as fast as I could around the block and onto the grass behind the bush I suspected they were heading for. But they were nowhere to be seen. I looked into another bush and then I saw them: she had to sit down again. They were in the middle of the alley. This time she didn’t take so long. Again I saw one of the most erotic sights. She was hobbling forward, and when she had to sit down she shuffled herself forward, pushing herself towards relief with her ass on her heel. But when they reached the first bush – the desperate one declined to go there. She said something I can’t quite recall, but along the lines of, “That won’t matter that much now anyway.” Remember, this whole story up to now had taken about half an hour and I’ve never seen a woman so desperate, so it would have been a miracle if she had not wet herself.
Well back to the story: She hobbled over to the next bush – much to my delight, because I was standing right behind it. The not–so–desperate one, who I forgot to mention had approached the bushes with her belt open, showing a little bit of her light yellow (no, not that kind of yellow) briefs, stood in front of her and the desperate one went behind her. But (I swear this is true) she didn’t go right away. She stood there, legs straight but together in the shadow. She for some reason couldn’t open her belt – by then I suspected that she maybe liked her desperation. When she finally went (It was getting dark by now, so I couldn’t see all the details) it took a while before you could hear anything. In fact she sort of moaned like she was shitting and pressing it out. She had her back turned at her friend and allowed me a full front view, though obstructed by leaves and beginning darkness. She probably was totally cramped. But then I heard a splash – no noisy pressure squirt, but more like the sound of a soda can being emptied onto the ground for about three seconds. Then silence for another few seconds, another short groan and a sploosh, this time more like a water bucket. It was a lot of piss but not that hissing and that special sound of a powerful stream, more like a lot of liquid dropped to the ground. And after that it was like one of those ancient water–pumps with a crank. Swooosh, (one, two) pump, swooosh, pump, swoooosh, pump and then a long stream. I can’t tell how long it went, but must have been more than 30sec and in the end it trickled out SLOWLY. Silence. Wiping? No – then came another strong gusher… trickle… gusher… trickle… gusher. It was the second–longest pee I ever heard in my live (once I saw a woman letting out more, but that’s a different story).
At some point the other girl shielding her said something like “now YOU’RE making ME wet myself – hurry!” She had to go too, she had mentioned it a few times earlier when she talked to her friend to sympathize with her. But not anywhere near as bad. She kept tucking at her open fly pulling at the ends of her belt. Finally I wanted to know if she had wet herself. I was brave and went around the bush to see her with a little bit more light after I thought she was finished. But there she was, next to her girlfriend who had started going too, still squatting and I even saw a small trickle. “Hey,” they yelled at me and I just stood there, gaping. I went away and tried to hide myself to see how much she had wet herself. She certainly had, because, after they were both finished, she asked the other one (you could see that from the distance) to inspect her bottom and I could hear her saying “Well, you have black pants on…” I tried to follow them further, but then the police came to close up the park and I lost track. Besides I was in a hurry to reflect on this sighting ;)
Bix