Like Father, Like Son

Sue Frederick took a shallow breath and tried to maintain her composure. She had not accounted for the extra pressure on her bladder from the huge soft drink her employee had ordered for each of them at lunch. It had fallen in well with her plan so she had said nothing. Now she was beginning to wonder about her timing, to say nothing of her bladder capacity. Reminding herself of her goal, she gave herself a quick caress between her legs, then another because it felt sooo good the first time. Art would not know what hit him!
At 135 pounds on a five foot three inch frame, the dark haired accounting supervisor could have been a bit chubby, but Sue had been blessed with a firm, ample bust topped by richly dark red nipples and a deliciously shapely bottom with a life all of its own. Sue had a pleasant but not beautiful face. She was very attractive in a sexual way, her dark eyes always carrying a look of seductive promise. It was a look most men became aware of quite immediately. Sue usually remained on their minds but few approached her, as she was a competent professional dealing with professional people. Still, in her 39 years she had not lacked for male attention. (And occasionally female if truth were told) Sue had recently developed a slightly different taste in men, though. She wanted a man who was ready and old enough to appreciate her. She also wanted a man who would piss his pants for her and enjoy her pissing as part of their sex life.
She had become interested in wet sex as the result of a traffic jam. She had scheduled a sex date with her husband that night and was caught in traffic needing desperately to pee. The longer Sue had waited in traffic and the more horribly desperate she became, the more aroused her body had become. By the time she got home she was completely confused, nearly in orgasm and could not keep her hands from between her quivering legs. Sue, wildly hot and leaking piss in spurts, had lost control as she entered her home. She had completely pissed her bright red business suit, piss gushing through her black satin panty girdle and slip– totally soaking her nylons, dress, shoes and the carpet, and then collapsed in a screaming orgasm in her own hot wetness, her hands probing through her saturated pissy clothing, trying hysterically to reach her searing wet tunnel. She had looked up to see that her straight–laced lawyer husband had watched, disgusted, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. While it had turned her on incredibly and awakened in her a voracious longing for wet sex, it did nothing for her husband (what a fool!) who promptly divorced her and began to search for Mary Poppins. Now she was ready to share her wet interest with a man of similar tastes.
While having her mate participate in wet fun seemed quite natural to her, the first experience had ended in her divorce, so, yes, she had been very, very careful about introducing her interests to Art. He was a good friend and, as if to complicate things even more, a subordinate with whom she had become intensely desirous of. She had dropped hints and cultivated her persona for months to try to show him her interest without jeopardizing her job. She had noted Art looking at her on occasion, and the bulge in his pants suggested approval. Sue made pee jokes often, and showed desperation to some degree in her attempt to gauge his possible interest in a wet relationship while observing Art’s reactions carefully. Sue was almost sure he was interested in her as a wet girl. She was certainly sure enough now to find out.
Coming out of her thoughts, Sue noticed the time. It was almost 5 o’clock. Art would be getting ready to leave so it was time to ambush, oops, ask him to work late.
Art Johnson was 6 feet of handsome manhood, and a brilliant accountant to boot. He had liked Sue immediately when she had been promoted to a supervisory position and enjoyed working with the lively young woman who was nearly twenty years his junior. He would have liked more, but in this day and age the wrong word in a workplace could end a career. Still…. She seemed to always need the restroom but never went. Sue liked to work late with Art and they often had lunch together as well. But, there had never been anything he could see as a clear come–on, so he maintained his distance. He liked her sense of humor also, she was always joking about how she was bursting to pee and wondering what it would do to his car seats, or if she would make it to the restroom in time. Of course, she always did. How he would love to wet himself as she pissed her panties with him! For Art, age and looks were secondary. To be sure, that was the common thread of Art’s sexual being. With every woman he ever met, his first thought he had was how he would love to see her desperate, then to wet her panties and enjoy it with him. Art suspected he had felt that way since birth, having no memory of not being aroused by this thought.
Art looked up as Sue entered his office, bringing a smile to his face and a warm rush to his genitals as she fidgeted in front of him. “Art, please stay this evening and work with me on that tax issue. I’ll buy dinner.” Of course Art readily agreed.
The work went well and they finished as seven o’clock arrived. Art and Sue both loved Italian food and they decided to have dinner at the Italian establishment across from their office building. They both had a satisfying meal and a few glasses of wine as well. They had to hurry back to the office to collect their things before the building was closed at eight thirty, though. The wine had relaxed and warmed them both and Art watched Sue’s shapely bottom swaying in her tight white suite skirt as she crossed the street slightly ahead of him. “Boy, would I like to…”
His thoughts were interrupted as Sue reached her hand back to him, smiling playfully and exclaiming “Hurry up Pokey!”. Art noticed that Sue seemed playful but was more fidgety than he had ever seen her. She had commented on needing to pee as they crossed the street but was now ignoring the restrooms. Art wondered again, for the millionth time… was she a wet girl? It was a thought, which occupied much of his time these days. He too desperately needed to piss as well but decided it would be rude to say anything. He would just wait until he got home and then go– if he didn’t make it, it would not be the first time. Art really enjoyed pissing his pants, whenever and wherever discretion allowed. Aside from his Internet friend Dave, it was a secret he could not share with anyone. The thought of Sue’s need to pee and his trying to get home without pissing his pants excited him and he cautiously shifted his swelling manhood to allow room. He looked at his watch. It was eight twenty two; just barely enough time to collect their things and leave. Yes, he would have to wait.
It took Art and Sue a few minutes to gather their things and get into the elevator. Art glanced at the clock in the elevator. Eight twenty five. Suddenly, as the elevator doors closed it dawned on him… the clock had shown the same time when they had gotten off a few minutes ago. The elevators shut down at eight thirty as well! As if confirming Art’s observation, the just–moving elevator ground to a halt. They were trapped, and between floors so the doors could not open. The building would remain this way until early morning, with only a janitor inside. Even Dave wouldn’t believe this!
Sue said a silent thank you to Robert, the elderly janitor whom she had asked to stop the clock. She had met Robert in the coffee break area a few months ago and was amazed to discover him to be a very kind and educated man. Over time she had discovered he was actually a retired executive who had developed their company and that he worked a few hours at various times just for exercise and to be around the business he had helped build. He had helped her through her divorce by listening when she needed a friend. When he had learned the circumstances of her divorce recently, it was he who had advised her that there were men out there with similar interests and that she should, carefully, seek them out and follow her desires.
Sue began to panic as she realized exactly how incredibly badly she needed to pee. She would not make it another five minutes, let alone till morning! There was no turning back now! This was getting very real. Sue was also incredibly turned on. She wanted Art so badly now she knew she would melt from her own heat if she did not get relief, on both counts, soon. “Oh no, Art, Please, do something, this can’t happen! I have to pee soo badly! I can’t hold it! I can’t, really, I’m not kidding! Oh God I’m so about to pee! I’m about to pee my panties right now! Oh no, no, no, I am about to burst!”
Sue emphasized her need with a little squeal as the first involuntary squirt of hot and aroused woman pee shot into her full cut white silk panties, tinting their crotch and front a bright yellow. The faint scent of Sue’s golden fluid reached Art’s nostrils about the same time he realized her hands were cupping her crotch through her dress. The resulting yellow wet spot on the front of her dress produced an immediate full erection in his pants and hot wet piss also squirted into his underwear as he momentarily lost control at the sight of this sexy desperate woman dancing around in front of him with her hands planted firmly in her now wet crotch. Art watched Sue intensely as she regained control, her full breasts heaving; her nipples rock hard and clearly visible through her clothing. As they both regained their composure the sexual tension that had been building between them for so long peaked and began to take control of their actions. Art looked at Sue who was in turn staring at the huge erection tenting his light tan pants and now capped by an apple–sized wet spot. Sue’s control vanished at this point as the erotic sight she was witness to further moistened her sex from within. She met Art’s look now as she began to grow weak in the knees and realized the look in his eyes was one of complete and very excited approval. She had so wanted this and now it was finally happening. Art was in heaven as well, having fantasized more than once (a lot more!) of being with this sexy, exciting and now wet woman.
Through his passion Art became aware of a loud hissing sound as Sue reached out to him, her hot golden nectar, now unstoppable, shooting forcefully through her unresisting soggy panties and flowing noisily down her legs, splashing about the elevator floor. As they came together in their first frantic passionate wet embrace Art’s tortured bladder and dick gave up its hopeless fight against a relentless tide and he pissed strongly and hotly into his pants and underwear, his piss joining Sue’s in a fragrant piss cocktail, cascading in a golden waterfall down through both their clothes and across their genitals, making everything in its path hotter and wetter than either could have imagined and turning most of Sue’s skirt the same golden hue of her saturated panties. As they sank to the elevator floor in their own steaming piss puddle, Sue tore open Art’s soaked pants releasing his still pressurized pissing dick. The resulting deluge flooded her breasts and turned her now yellow blouse and bra transparent, giving Art a look at the heavenly treat awaiting him inside. Art was now beside himself with desire for this totally erotic, sexy, aroused and completely piss soaked woman. His hands quickly freed the treasures within Sue’s saturated clothing and his mouth devoured her firm and heaving breast as she slipped aside her warm aromatic still–dripping panties. Sue guided Art’s valiant soldier into the battleground and he was enveloped in her hot wetness. Thrusting, squeezing, moaning and shuddering, the battle was quickly won for both and a primitive scream neither had ever heard before erupted from each of them, blending and rising to the heavens in blissful orgasmic release.
Art and Sue slept or passed out briefly, neither was sure, awakening as their cooling puddle called attention to their plight. “Oh my God, Art! Look at us! What are we going to do?” exclaimed Sue, as she surveyed the mass of torn, wet and now cold pissy clothing surrounding them. Cold yellow piss resided in little pools in the corners of their temporary prison. To Sue, passion satisfied, panic seemed a logical next step, given their plight. Art said nothing, but reaching across her still smoldering wet body, delved deeply into his damp pants pocket producing a single heavy industrial type key. Sue watched as Art opened a locked panel in the elevator wall revealing a small suitcase containing wet wipes, clothing in both their sizes and even towels and plastic bags. Sue stared, dumbfounded. Her mind racing, she cleaned and dressed herself in silence and wonder as Art smiled warmly at her and did the same. With their mess removed and all evidence in the suitcase, Art then inserted the key into a slot marked “service” and turned. The elevator came alive, the buttons lighting up and a bell ringing for a few seconds before the elevator resumed its interrupted descent to the exit floor. As the elevator opened, Sue flushed a bright crimson when she saw Robert, her janitor friend, mopping the floor just outside the elevator. He smiled at the couple and greeted them cheerily.
“Good evening, Miss Frederick. Good evening, son.”
“Good Evening, Dad,” Art replied.
King Neptune