Public Fun

Margaret shifted her weight, a carefully neutral expression on her face. She tugged at my sleeve and I leaned towards her, feeling the heat of her breath on my ear as she hissed quietly, “Let’s get out of here. I’m not gonna make it if this queue keeps stalling like this.”
I nodded. The queue to the loos was truly impressive; people in various stages of discomfort were watching their places like hawks to ensure a few minutes of privacy in the smelly bluish interior of a porta–potty. Marge and I lined up ten minutes ago and we still were too far from the plastic grails, and when I say “we,” I mean my wife, because I for one hadn’t been drinking ale.
Walking stiffly, Margaret followed me away from the squirming crowd. I headed towards the parking lots, feeling my wife’s fingers clench and unclench as she fought to keep her bladder from flooding her shoes. We skirted a group of laughing teens; one of the girls lifted a water bottle over her head and squirted a clear stream at her friends among squeals of laughter. Margaret whimpered at the splashing sounds and paused momentarily, head bowed. Her rump looked delightful under her skirt as she bent over just a little bit, grinding her thighs together as discreetly as possible.
I’d have hated for her to embarrass herself in public – Marge has always been the type to dwell on misadventures, and a public wetting would throw her into a few weeks’ miserable funk. I looked around. There was a low stonewall not far from here, a few people sitting on it, enjoying the sun. I steered my wife towards it as she started walking again.
“Andy! What are you doing?” she hissed furiously. “Take me to the parking lot, I have to go!”
I untangled my fingers from hers and put my arm around her shoulder. “You won’t make it to the lot. See this wall? You can sit in my lap and go like you were on the potty.”
“There are people around!”
“Nobody’s gonna pay attention to another happy couple snuggling on the wall.” I winked, looking down at her adorable face scrunched up in an anguished expression. I was feeling a certain need also, but mine wouldn’t lead to a big accident… just yet.
The wall was low enough for me to sit comfortably. Before I did so, I quickly unzipped my jeans. Marge was facing away from me, stepping from foot to foot as she waited for me to pull her in my lap. I lifted her skirt with one hand and freed my engorged cock with the other, voluminous cotton fabric shielding me from any onlookers. My wife’s buttocks and labia were clearly outlined through her favorite large white panties, as she wasn’t fond of the sensation of having her butt flossed. I saw no wet patch in the crotch, but that didn’t mean we had time to spare.
Pulling her panties halfway down her thighs, I guided her into my lap. Her pubic hair tickled my cock head as it pushed against her labia, and she almost jumped in shock.
“What the hell are you doing?”
I held her around the waist, very pointedly not pushing against her bladder as my straining cock throbbed under her crotch. “Never mind. You can pee now, hon… We’re facing away from the people, nobody will see it.”
Marge shook her head furiously, the motion causing her labia to rub across my cock head. I bit my lip and slowly rolled my hips back, dragging the edge of my helmet against her lips. “C’mon, Marge. I know you absolutely need to pee…” I licked her ear and kept whispering. “You’ll feel better once you go. Pssssh…”
“I can’t go like that! I’ll get you wet.”
I sighed, nuzzling the back of her neck. “That’s the point. Pssssh… You have to pee on me…”
Her body was stiff as a board. She thought for a moment, and then gave a small nod. “Okay, I’ll try.”
I could feel her strain, but nothing came out. I moved my hips again, pushing my leaking cock head between her damp labia, aiming for the clit. Margaret strained again, biting her lip in determination, and I felt a small hot squirt hit my cock. The stream stopped almost immediately and Marge whimpered. “It’s so hard to pee like this!”
I held her patiently, rocking slightly, and was rewarded with another squirt. My wife’s head was resting on my shoulder and her urethra was releasing small, desperate spurts at intervals too long for my liking. I yearned for her to bathe my hardness in a flood of pee as I rubbed against her wet furry lips and coated the inside of her skirt in cum, but her body wasn’t cooperating. The naughtiness of finally realizing my dream of having my cock out in public was bringing me ever closer to the edge, and I didn’t want to finish before she could.
Suddenly my wife moved forward, a longer squirt of pee travelling along my cock and leaving trails of dripping heat across the head. The flaring rim dragged over her wet vagina, and when she bucked her hips, her hole engulfed half of my straining cock head. My shaft was throbbing against her, my rim locked just outside her vaginal opening.
I moaned, balls aching with the need for release, and then it happened.
Another squirt of hot liquid spurted from her deep urethra, hitting the perfect bull’s–eye at my fraenulum. My cock jumped, the head flaring as semen pulsed up the tube and smeared the walls of her entrance, over and over, as Marge’s body finally gave in and let her pee escape in a hissing flood that battered powerfully against my fraenulum and dripped down the underside of my cock, soaking my black jeans. My wife’s pee washed off my thick semen as it leaked all around my cock head, the slimy wet feel compounding my ecstasy. I have never had an orgasm this long, my balls seemingly producing new portions of cum on the fly to send it boiling up my cock to mix with Marge’s hot urine.
I don’t know how I kept from bucking my hips and moaning out loud, but I did. Nobody noticed a thing, even though my hand found its way to Marge’s breast and pinched the nipple as she relieved herself, flooding my helplessly twitching cock for what seemed like an eternity.
Margaret’s stream stopped at last, my cock still hard at her entrance. She sighed contentedly, reaching to squeeze my hand. “You’re completely crazy, d’you know it, Andy? And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
By: Growth Spurt