If Only

Zane Carson woke up feeling great! It was Saturday morning and he would be working on his house today. He needed to work in the attic and knew it would be best done early, before the Southern California sun turned the attic into an oven. Zane rolled out of bed, dressed and set up his ladder under the attic access door. He worked quickly, tossing all his materials, tools and water jug up into the opening. Ignoring the twinge in his bladder, Zane climbed the ladder and entered the attic. He was glad to see the generous vents at each end of his attic, which would help keep air moving. Zane had just settled in a Los Angeles suburb where he had obtained a good job in information technology. The active and fit 45 year old had purchased the house and wanted to add some electrical circuits for convenience, hence his foray into the attic. Work progressed quickly and by 10 am he was nearly done. A more serious message of urgency from his bladder reminded him he still had not visited the restroom. It also reminded him of how he came to be alone and single, in a new state, with a new job at age 45. Pausing, he reflected on all that had transpired. He thought of his wife, oops, ex–wife, wondering how they had spent 12 years together. He smiled, recalling the incident that had ended their marriage.
Their relationship had not been good for some time. They had taken a weekend trip, intended to bring them together. Instead, it had highlighted how far apart they had grown. Brenda Carson had been drinking more recently, a lot more in fact. Sadly, she was not pleasant when she drank. The trip had quickly gone from a bad idea to a genuine disaster when Brenda had discovered she had forgotten her makeup case, which also contained her underwear and nightgowns. Brenda was sure it was Zane’s fault in some way.
Trying to appease his petulant wife Zane had gone to the gift shop and purchased a sexy blue baby doll nightgown for her with matching shiny satin panties. He was sure she would like it and look good in it. She had been drinking heavily that evening too and in his absence, fallen asleep on the bed in her eveningwear. She awakened in ill humor on his return and criticized Zane for his taste in lingerie, ordering him to “throw that trash away and get me home at once!” They had left immediately, beginning the 2–hour drive back to Chicago. As they drove, his wife had fallen into a drunken sleep…and pissed herself completely, not even waking up. He had heard her piss hiss out and watched as her expensive white dress developed a distinct yellow tint. He could smell her piss as well and the incident had aroused him. His wife had wakened as her pee soaked clothing became chilled and observed his hard dick distending the front of his pants. Zane had smiled at her and indicated she looked very sexy to him. It was really the wrong thing to say. Brenda had exploded, accusing Zane of everything from causing her to pee herself to enjoying it. She was partly right; he sure had enjoyed it! He had tried for years to get her to try this just once. She had always been disgusted with his requests and over time he had given up. The verbal tirade had continued, ending only when they arrived home. There, Brenda Carson informed her husband she was “divorcing his perverted ass” and locked him out of the house. Things kind of went downhill from there.
The divorce had been dirty, painful and public. It had cost him most everything, including his business. Small towns are like that; once a decision has been made to blacklist you, you might as well leave. His business had died almost overnight when the Mayor’s only daughter divorced him and publicly aired his wet interests. He was finished there and knew it.
Returning to the present Zane realized how warm the attic was. He finished his water and set about finishing his work. It was becoming difficult to concentrate with his need to pee approaching severe desperation. As he bent down to secure a wire, his swollen bladder objected, sending a hot shot of piss into his pants. Zane knew he had only a few minutes now before he completely lost control and pissed himself. He had only a few minutes of work left so he pressed on, trying mightily not to soak himself. Finally, he finished, and not a moment too soon as another, larger shot of piss penetrated his pants. He stopped the flow only after a baseball–sized wet spot had appeared in his jeans. No big deal, he thought, I can make it down to the bathroom now that I’m finished– and it did feel nice…very nice.
Zane quickly tossed his tools to the floor below and began to lower the roll of wire as well. The heavy wire roll suddenly slipped from his hands, crashing to the floor below. As the wire fell, it bumped the aluminum ladder. The ladder teetered for a moment before toppling over sideways with a noisy crash, coming to rest directly below the attic entrance. Zane looked on in disbelief. He had to pee! Now! As if emphasizing his mental shout his bladder released another blast into his soggy shorts. Zane stopped his flow only with great difficulty this time; he was about to lose it! His jeans bore the evidence of his battle; the wet spot now was saucer sized and extended between his legs. He couldn’t help noticing how great it felt still, even while trying to figure a way out of his situation. Suddenly, Zane remembered his neighbor, 36 year old divorcee Karen Shane, liked to garden on Saturdays, or so she had told him. She was quite a sexy lady and their friendship had started to develop definite sexual overtones. Zane didn’t really want a relationship yet, though, and when he did he resolved this time to find a wet woman who would share his wet fantasies and desires. He evaluated every girl he met first on the basis of how likely she was to be a wet girl. He rated Karen 2 out of a possible 5. It would be really great if she were, but not very likely. Still, she might be available to set up his ladder so he could get down from the attic before he completely pissed himself. He could still hide his wet spot under the oversized t–shirt he wore. Zane couldn’t handle another woman calling him a pervert for his pee fetish. He carefully worked his way over to the vent, which faced Karen’s back yard. He had to hurry; he was beginning to leak uncontrollably and it was getting painful trying to hold his pee. Arriving at the vent he was surprised to note the full panoramic view it afforded of his neighbor’s yard. Unfortunately, Karen was not outside. As Zane enjoyed the cool air from the vent he tried to figure a way out of the attic without injury. As he pondered, he heard his neighbor’s back door open and Karen appeared.
Ready or not, her body usually provoked a response from him; today was no exception. She stood, stretching in the sun wearing a thin tight t–shirt, her breasts stretching the material out where her nipples pointed skyward. The view was simply magnificent and the tightest white pants he had ever seen covered a most beautiful sexy butt. She would have hardened boiled noodles; Zane’s noodle certainly thought so. Maybe it was time for a relationship, Zane mused as he touched the growing lump in his wet jeans. He watched as Karen walked away from him, picking up her garden hose. Her walk did wonderful things to her body and something to his, too. He thought crudely, as men sometimes do, that she could use his hose anytime. The bulge in his jeans grew harder, echoing his sentiments.
Karen Shane loved spending time in her backyard. She loved flowers, plants, the outdoors and being one with nature. Her back yard was very hidden, secluded behind block walls and wood fences, offering the privacy she craved for her special times alone. There, she could dress however she pleased and do whatever pleased her at the moment without judgment from the outside world. She walked out this morning to piddle in her flower garden and enjoy the warm spring day with her most favorite activity, piddling in her pants. She had avoided visiting the bathroom this morning in anticipation of her private play and had dressed to enhance the wetness she would soon enjoy.
Her tight white pants hid her red satin panties now, but she knew they would be very visible when her golden pee flowed through them. Her nipples stirred in anticipation, the soft nubs swelling, growing longer, growing hard, wanting to be touched, pulled, pinched, sucked. Already her panties carried the sweet moisture from her wet pussy; she had not denied herself her own knowing touch this morning. It was part of her ritual. Karen would do anything to enhance her excitement, as long as the precious moment was prolonged until she could hold her golden fluid no longer. Often, the hot rushing flow, it’s fragrant intensity swirling warmly in her soaked panties, rushing uncontrollably over her swollen protruding clitoris, was sufficient to invoke a most wonderful climax. She liked that best, the untouched warmth of her sex pulsing in her own heated stream as both overflowed the confines of her fragrant wet panties. It was going to be a good day. Karen turned on the water hose to water her flowers. Her desperation peaked, her pee muscles reacting immediately to the flowing water. The fuse was lit; nothing could stop her coming flood. She could feel her pee coming now; the moment was close, very close. Karen felt the tingling path of her warm liquid begin its short descent to her panties. Her pussy began to spasm, twitching uncontrollably, wonderfully, starting to squirt hotly into her panties as she walked, flowing through to her pants, so tight the front instantly glistened as her concentrated morning woman piss flowed into them. The bouquet of her golden girl wine reached her nose almost at once, its scent sending a message of arousal to her moist throbbing slick slit. The intense longing took her breath, making her inhalation jerky and further intensifying the hotly fanned flame of desire. Karen closed her eyes, denying herself the pleasure of her own touch now, seconds stretched, time distorting, waiting until she could not stand it.
“Excuse me, Karen,” Zane yelled out through the vent. Zane was surprised to see Karen jump, then drop the hose, startled, as he spoke. Now realizing he had scared his sexy neighbor, he watched, embarrassed as Karen threw up her hands. The wayward hose fell to the ground, it’s spray directed up…directly into Karen’s steaming crotch, just starting to pour forth her hot pissy wetness. She screamed now as the cold water soaked her, standing stock still on unsteady feet as she recovered her composure.
Red panties, Zane observed with interest. I’ll bet she would have worn a different color if she knew she was going to get wet, he thought to himself, trying not to laugh. He failed miserably, laughing out loud as Karen seemed to come out of a trance, picking up the hose. She tightened the spray and sent a deluge into the vent opening in her neighbor’s house. Zane was helplessly laughing; then realizing he was pissing his pants as Karen’s hose further soaked him. Karen finally had mercy on him with her fright over and shut off her hose. Zane was a mess– dirt from the vent had sent muddy water all over him. Karen would never guess he had peed his pants.
Karen had taken only a second to recover from her start, but the sudden shock of the cold water up her heated hole had pushed her already intense orgasm to massive, mind numbing raw passionate oblivion. She had stood very still trying to remain conscious and standing. It took a bit longer for her mind to rejoin the present after this intensely consuming fiery wet peak, but Karen soon realized she had been turned away from her neighbor when she had started her furious pissing orgasm. The cold water had removed the visible evidence. Good. Zane had seen nothing. The last thing she needed was another man criticizing her needs. Recovering her voice now, the wet and sexy sweetie looked up and directed her hose in Zane’s direction in mock retaliation. “What ever are you doing up there,” she called out as she turned off her hose after a few seconds. The after effects of her passion tickled her body, a thousand nerves reacting as she shuddered involuntarily. She tried to concentrate on Zane’s answer. “Working in the attic. I’m sorry I startled you, Karen. Can you please set my ladder upright in my house?” Zane replied.
“Sure, Zane,” she replied cheerfully, happy and surprised she had followed his voice. “I’ll be right there. Karen hoped her legs would work. She went into Zane’s house and quickly set up the ladder. Zane came down to meet her. “Karen, please forgive me, it never occurred to me that you would be startled.”
“It’s ok, Zane,” the soaked sexpot replied, “I think you got the worst of it,” she replied observing the mud spattered figure before her. The wet and muddy neighbors exchanged pleasantries and parted, each to clean up. Zane watched her soaked sexy butt, highlighted in those wet red panties, walk away from him. He couldn’t help staring at her hard nipples as they had spoken; he wanted so badly to touch them. He noticed her smile, too, upon observing the bulge in his wet muddy jeans. As he turned to walk in to clean up, a single thought raged through his mind: Man, if that had only been pee in her panties!! Karen left, glancing back for one more look at Zane’s sexy wet bulging jeans. She sure liked the way he looked at her nipples but she really wished that had been hot man piss in his jeans instead of muddy water.
Karen and Zane’s busy schedules kept them apart most of the time and the relationship seemed to have only occasional weekend moments to develop. Zane found himself listening for her when he was in his own backyard. He also quickly discovered his backyard to be secluded and private and often just let go when working out back, pissing his pants when the mood struck him. It struck often.
And, so it happened that a few weeks later the neighbors found themselves working outside again. Zane was installing a lawn sprinkler system while Karen was up to her usual pee games in her garden. The old wood fence did not allow them much visual contact but sound traveled freely through the gaps between boards. Aware of each other’s presence, they each exchanged pleasantries as they worked.
Zane had begun his sprinkler job early to avoid the heat and as was his habit had not visited the restroom since the night before. He had been desperate upon waking this morning and now after several large glasses of iced tea he was absolutely bursting. He had spoken to Karen on and off as the morning progressed, but had gotten quiet as his desperation and work required his full attention. God, he had to pee. His dick, hard with piss, excitement and thoughts of Karen, pulsed, threatening to soak him in hot man piss any moment. Zane lowered a pipe into the ground, sitting on the trench edge. His dick erupted, hard and pissing at this action. He though of Karen in her wet red panties and white shorts from a few weeks ago, the image taking control as he pissed. Zane roughly stroked his hot hard rod through his pissy jeans, the heat rising in his body and mind. He could almost taste those wonderful nipples and feel the weight of her sitting on his lap, pissing as his man volcano erupted, filling his pants with the hot white lava. Stretching as he cummed violently, his foot slammed into the fragile PVC pipe he had pressurized for a leak check. With a sharp crack the pipe broke, its vertical portion instantly sending a deluge of water into the air around him.
Karen had gone out earlier than normal this morning to piddle in her garden and plants, hoping Zane would be out as well. She had consumed coffee and orange juice in addition to her accumulation of fluid from the night and was beside herself trying to control her distended bladder. Her tight green panties now felt like a vise under her denim shorts and it was getting more difficult by the second to converse with Zane. Gradually, with her desperation peaking and her breathing becoming labored as her arousal began to match her desperation, Karen had spoken less. Now, she was near the fence quietly tending to her petunias. She was beginning to leak, the warm fragrance and presence of her golden fluid pushing her desire past her ability to control it. She felt her warm soft breasts, the sensitive flesh sending ripples through her body. Karen pinched one hardened nipple gently, twisting it just slightly. She wished Zane were with her now, pissing with that huge cock she had observed in his pants, pissing hard, hot man piss all over her. Her fantasy peaked, as did her desperation, the sweet warm fluid squirting forcefully through her sodden panties and shorts as her hands, unbidden, buried themselves in her pissy wet heat. Too late, she could not suppress the scream of her exploding passion. Oh no! What now? Zane surely heard her and would be looking over the fence any second to investigate! What was she going to do!!??
Zane vaguely heard Karen scream, twice, a couple of seconds apart, as the geyser of cold water fell on both sides of the fence. Damn! He had done it again! She was probably soaked and not too happy with him. Realizing the water had hidden his activity, Zane jumped up to check on Karen. Peering over the fence he observed his sexy neighbor, again soaked. But, she didn’t look mad at all, in fact she looked positively happy, flashing him a brilliant smile as she asked what had happened.
As Karen’s mind tried to formulate a logical reason for her scream, a second scream escaped her lips as cold water suddenly rained down upon her. Instantly soaked yet again, she laughed, realizing her secret was safe yet again. Karen stood, smiling widely at her good fortune as Zane’s head appeared above the fence. “Gosh, Karen, I’m sorry, please don’t be…”
“You’re not upset?” Karen replied, “No, but what happened?” The pair walked to the gate joining their properties and Zane indicated he had broken a pipe; his eyes again taking in Karen’s swollen nipples perched atop full succulent breasts, clearly visible through her wet shirt, as his jeans again hosted a large hardening lump. A little more pee besieged Karen’s soft cotton panties, running down her legs. She was not that desperate, she just wanted so badly to pee with this man, to watch him be excited as her warm fountain flowed through her panties, silently running down her legs. “Boy, you really soaked me,” Karen spoke, covering. She silently willed her twitching pussy to obey, to let her speak normally, to relax its grip on her thundering heart, to just let her breathe normally. “I guess so,” Zane replied, observing the water run down her legs. Did it look…yellow?
Ah, just wishful thinking. God, he wished that would be girl pee running down her legs! Karen shuddered, observing Zane’s wet bulge. “Well, better get cleaned up,” she said, turning to leave as more hot piss escaped and the vision of Zane’s swollen dick threatened to overcome her self–control. “God, if that was only hot man piss in his pants,” Karen thought as she walked into her back door, a hard stream of heated yellow girl pee warming her panties and shorts. Zane closed the gate as she walked away; piss again erupting from his dick. He had been leaking as they spoke; Karen made him want to just erupt in piss all over. He wanted so badly for their pee to mix, soaking their bodies, to taste her sweet nectar, to feel her stream spray hard on the base of his own hard spraying hose as they coupled, wet heat and aroma enveloping them both in a passion neither had yet experienced. Thankfully Karen had apparently not noticed his pissing. She certainly had noticed his hardness; her widening smoldering eyes and the catch in her breath were all too obvious.
Life continued, wet for both, alone and together, always apart. Zane still suspected that the water running down Karen’s legs had been pee, but could not risk alienating her by saying anything without further evidence. Then, one evening he saw Karen arrive home from work. Zane watched, wondering, as she sat in her car, unmoving, for more than a minute. Oddly, when she finally moved, she seemed hurried and nervous. Her motions appeared jerky, awkward. Twice she seemed to just freeze, not even breathing. Karen then quickly ran inside after getting her mail. She certainly seemed to have some kind of difficulty. She attempted to open her door, quickly thrusting her hand between her legs, bending over slightly. Zane was pretty sure now what was happening. She had almost certainly grabbed her pussy. Karen appeared to be very desperate, about to burst! He knew her work was close and low–key; if she was desperate it was because she wished to be desperate. The realization made his head spin. He decided he had to know. He would risk the ridicule and rejection he so feared for the chance to be with this beautiful woman as his wet partner. He was so excited by the prospect of finally finding a wet girl that he came home from work desperate every night the following week. He walked around his back yard thinking about Karen until the inevitable occurred and hot wetness surged through his jeans once more as Karen filled his mind in his now–possible fantasy. Finally, Friday night came and he drank extra fluid in anticipation of what could happen tomorrow. He was ready.
The next Saturday was a perfect Los Angeles morning. Not too hot, a light sea breeze rolling gently inland. Karen was ready for Zane now. If her suspicions were correct, she would soon know. She had dressed carefully, all in white. She was sure enough now about Zane. She wanted her pee to show clearly, to let the hot fragrant girl nectar crowding and distending her bladder to make its presence unmistakably known. She was tired of hiding her need, ready to risk rejection, ridicule, whatever. She had to know. She had seen Zane watching her earlier this week when she had arrived home from work, desperate. She had soaked her panties as she opened her front door thinking about him. God, she hoped Zane came out early; she was really bursting and her melting pussy wasn’t helping her efforts to stay dry until the right moment.
Zane walked out into the bright morning sun blinking, his own white t–shirt and shorts contributing to the visual assault on his optic nerves. He decided to get straight to the point with Karen, to lay it on the line, to just let her know in the most direct way possible of his interest in her. Hearing her back door slam, Zane went directly to their common gate. He tripped the latch and opened the gate as Karen reached for the latch.
“Karen!” “Zane!” They spoke as one. “I have something to tell you” they again spoke as one, laughing nervously. As each struggled for the words which would, for better or worse, change their relationship and possibly their lives, desperation intervened. With no warning, Karen’s tortured pussy made its needs known. Karen shifted from foot to foot, trying desperately not to pee. As she bit her lip, legs pressed tightly together, she realized Zane had suddenly grabbed his dick, grimacing, about to burst. All the words each had rehearsed became useless, impeding baggage on a journey of minds merging, souls joining, fusion of bodies. The pee dance said it all as they came together. Lips met, kissing, sucking, cooing into ears, and urging each other to just let it go. Suddenly, both were wet, soaked, dripping running wet. As Zane’s sprinkler came around for a second run, the soaked couple parted, darting into Karen’s yard and out of its path. Zane laughed, as Karen stood, hands on hips, giving him a mock scolding look. “Zane, you must really want to see me wet!” she exclaimed. “I think you know I do”, he replied, moving toward her. “This is more what I think we both want, though.” With that, Zane pulled out the waistband of his white shorts and underwear as a thick hard stream of his hot piss rose into the air. It arched through the air as Karen moved to intercept, the stream spattering noisily from her breasts as it landed on target. Coming together, Karen’s golden flow erupted noisily, hissing hard through her panties. She had already dropped her shorts and was pulling her wet yellowed shirt off as Zane scooped her up, his own pants hitting the ground. The frenzied couple joined, Zane ripping Karen’s soaked yellowed warm panties from her crotch. Karen met Zane’s member with heated enthusiasm, driving herself down hard on his rigid hot pissing pole, her own yellow river splashing noisily from the junction of their bodies. With a rising howl of need and passion born of years of clandestine times alone and fruitless searching for a seemingly wet phantom the wet pissy couple came, sinking to the ground together as their orgasm consumed all the pent up energy in both their bodies, leaving not even enough strength for their legs to support them. In spite of this, nothing could have ever removed the smiles from their faces as they crumpled together, piss flowing again as they stared at each other in wonder.
King Neptune