May's Days - Tea in Bed II

Here is the other half of the Tea in Bed weekend as I persuaded May to write it. There are fewer characters because she sticks closer to the facts, Robert.
I wish Robert had let me type this because I’d have done it better.
To explain about me first: I was always the fat girl at school, the one nobody wanted on their team. I grew up on a new housing estate in a town in Cheshire and I really only had one friend, that was Rachel who was tall& thin. The girls said “Here comes 10” because she looked like a 1 and I was short and round. She used to come by my house almost every day till we were 16 then she left school and got a job. I stayed on and was very lonely.
After A levels I found a job as the office assistant in a plastics firm, office ‘dogs body’ more like. One day a spotty technician said he would take me to a ‘Rave’ at a hangar on an old airfield. He had hardly ever spoke to me before and I just thought this must be what boys were like. Nobody had ever asked me out before and although I didn’t like him much I was still quite excited and spent all afternoon getting ready.
He turned up at nearly 9:00pm and his car already had 5 other people in it. As I came hurrying out someone said she’s too fat to go in the back she’ll have to sit on your knee Frank. I didn’t know any of the rest and I had to sit on Frank who smelt as if he never washed. Once inside the old hangar they left me. I wouldn’t be telling this if I hadn’t met Janey there but she was high on some happiness pill and took pity on me. We danced a bit and drank some cokes. Some of the people were quite friendly but they only made space for me to dance in their circle. I had to walk home in the middle of the night. So you see I was a bit of a social failure. What I did learn on the walk home was that I could hold my pee.
When I was 25, the firm sent me off to a secretarial college one day a week and there I met Janey again. She was the opposite of me– long soft fair hair, bright and bold, with really good dress sense. She did something called ‘Liaison’ at the USAF base being ‘sassy’ with grumpy visitors. Me, I did the photocopying, made the tea, filed reports, and generally ran errands. I don’t much like describing what I look like but Robert says I should. I’m 5’ 5”, about 9 stone with long wavy, wiry black hair. I part it in the middle to make me look longer and thinner.
Mostly I avoid jeans because of my bottom and as my top is 36 I’m sort of square. It always seems best to wear shapeless things so as to disguise this. My best feature is big brown eyes.
After each day at the college a group of us would go for an hour in a pub and it was in these gatherings that I met Rissa. She’s getting married to a footballer. Janey and Rissa were very good to me and got me to join in more. We even talked a bit about peeing and I discovered that there was fun in it. Soon I was playing hold it games when my parents went out on a Saturday afternoon and I told the girls about it. I got a computer for the course and soon found the ‘Allday’ girls’ story. In no time the three of us were doing ‘hold its’ from 11 in the morning till we got home at 7pm after college.
Rissa came by one Saturday and we tried to do the same having decided to wait till my parents returned at 7. Well, they were an hour late and when they did get back they wanted help lifting some boxes out of the car. That nearly finished Rissa. My mum used the toilet before she could get there so she stood by the back door in a really elegant pose with her toe pointed to the drain and peed down her leg. It worked; there wasn’t a drip on the driveway. I had a bit of a problem explaining the damp patch on her chair after the evening meal we had prepared.
At the time I didn’t know it but the end of exams camping trip was a plan hatched by the other girls to get me out of my shell. Peeing on your own is nice but it really needs company and as the rest weren’t keen on sharing a hotel room with a girl who wets the floor this was a compromise. I knew nothing about all this till long after.
I suppose this a fairly typical account of what it’s like to be a girl who is the wrong shape. People feel sorry for you, boys ignore you, other girls try to help, parents look on unable to give advice except to say join a club, get some exercise, dress smarter. You need confidence to do all those things and I rated nil.
On the Friday of the camping weekend we piled into a couple of cars and set up the tents in a field overlooking a shallow valley. Then the peeper struck. Rissa went to use the toilet tent and saw a man with a goatee beard and a baldhead watching from 20 yards away by the hedge. She ignored him but as she came out he was there still with binoculars pretending to watch birds. She told us about him and I saw that in the next hour or two as he sauntered around the field he was always following her with his gaze. He was directing the binoculars into her tent, staring as she walked back to the cars. At the farmyard wall she almost bumped into him with his back to her and one hand suspiciously in his pocket.
Everywhere you looked this man popped up, always staring at Rissa. She’s a very nervous twitchy person, either high as a kite with excitement or down in the dumps with misery. During the rest of the afternoon she said she would hold it rather than have him staring at the toilet from behind the hedge. Four or five hours can be a long time when you’re up and about so I wasn’t surprised to see her holding herself once or twice.
The end came when she and Janice went to fetch a couple of cans of drinking water. Janice was striding out ahead while little Rissa had to put hers down for a rest and a relieving press on the right spot. As she bent to pick up the can he leaned out of the hedge beside her only 3 feet away. She lost it. The surprise was too much. Her tiny ohhh didn’t reach Janice who was almost back at the tents. Rissa clutched herself and filled her pants, soaked her jeans and began to run crouched over as the man made a grunting noise. The rest of us saw this part. The man stood rubbing his crotch vigorously till he noticed us watching then he pushed back into the hedge only to reappear a few moments later with his binoculars trained on the opening of Rissa’s tent. It was close to where Robert was caught later in the evening.
We decided to stay in pairs from then on and keep a look out for him. That was how we came to capture someone else entirely. We were all filled with indignation. The countryside was supposed to be quiet and restful, birds twittering, farmers sucking straw. When we caught Robert we were ready for a lynching but the idea of pissing all over him seemed an even better revenge.
You can imagine how awful it was to see the same man again when we had Robert tied down behind the tents. I had already had some doubts when he said ‘Nice if you can get it’ because I couldn’t believe that’s what a guilty person would have said. If he had known why we were so angry, as the real culprit would have done, he would have denied it.
We had a quick discussion about what to do. Clean him up, say sorry and beg for mercy was the only option. Not being a very forward sort of person all this was a nightmare to me and I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if Robert had reported us to the police and we would have had our holiday in prison. When we talked round the fire I wanted to say anything that would make him feel better. I know better than most what it feels like to be humiliated and it doesn’t turn me on. For the first time in my life I made an effort to chat up a man. To listen to him and find out what there might be to like about him.
As you already know my chat up line was the only thing I knew that wasn’t just suburban drivel. The subject of weeing was legitimate in the circumstances and I was trying to make him see that it didn’t have to be so dreadful. He took no persuading at all. By then we were on first name terms and he treated me as a girl who was trying to be nice, not ‘the fat one’. After a short while the girls left me to get on with him as we seemed to be doing so well and I think they were glad he was not raging about threatening legal action. One or two gave thumbs up as I went on chatting.
As we sat drinking by the fire he told me how his ‘torture’ didn’t come as the terrible blow it might have been since he had this interest in watersports. Goodness knows what would have happened if we had caught the real peeper. Would he have enjoyed it? Within the hour I had grown to like this man Robert. He looked at me differently from how others did, as though he were looking inside me not at my body. His eyes are blue and kind and he seems to be so much in control. He says it is due to playing ‘hold it’ but I don’t believe that. I felt that he wasn’t just passing the time till his clothes dried out but actually enjoying my company. Yes, all right, I’m naive but it turned out to be true.
The girls watched our conversation carefully and I think they would have soon spotted if Robert was not genuine. So my chaperones let me go that night and they told me long after that they had celebrated long into the next morning both for my new found confidence and their rescue from a grotesque situation.
Going straight from no knowledge of men to intimate physical relations, sorry if I sound a bit old–time, was thrilling. I felt like I was flying. Of course I read romances but I never heard of one based on wet knickers. Perhaps I was just lucky but Robert was so tender and full of fun. Thinking back I don’t see why I felt no embarrassment or why it never occurred to me that he might have just been taking advantage of a silly virgin. That first night we wriggled together like a couple of children, pissing and kissing till we fell asleep. I woke in his arms in a warm wet bed and felt as though the dreams and fantasies, which had appeared to be so dirty before, were all changed into a fairy tale.
When I anointed him with his Tea in bed he laughed until he cried. It was a Saturday morning, which he told you nothing about. We did a fair bit of washing and drying before going back to the campsite where the girls all wanted to know what happened. Even those who shared the wet pleasures were a bit surprised though I told them only the thinnest details. It was the Saturday afternoon that I made my biggest steps in confidence. Robert had a camcorder and wanted to have a record of us all. Then he filmed us all acting daft. He made us re–enact the arrest but no one was willing to redo the pissing scene. He said later that he was grateful for that. Having made his short film he asked for a ribbon and tied my hair back loosely, then put his belt round my rump and hitched up my skirt till it only just covered my panties. He told me to pretend not to be a feminist and lean casually against a tree. The film showed a sexy girl with a good bosom. Even my legs came oout well. It was definitely me– but I didn’t recognize myself. Janice said, “Pissing on a bloke certainly has pulling power.” Late that afternoon we went on his boat to the nearest town for some shopping and ended up in an art gallery coffee bar where I overheard a man on a nearby table saying to the woman with him, “You never saw such eyes, one pair deep mahogany brown and the other blue like the summer sky.” If he wasn’t talking about Robert and me he could have been. Friday I was a miserable fat girl– Saturday evening I was a glowing young woman.
I had to tell you all that even though it’s not a wet story so maybe the evening will be more to your liking.
The coffee shop started the process of filling up; then we went to a restaurant and ate little fishy things washed down with white wine. Next we visited a pub with a talking Mynah bird and left it with two pints each on board. The good thing about a boat is you need not bother too much about drinking and driving. On the way back in the sunshine we were going to take it easy and pee for pleasure but there was a boat, which followed close behind leaving no chance for a toilet stop, as we had to share the locks. We were merry knowing that we each had to pee badly but needing to work through the locks with the other boat. There were cries of oops as Robert and I momentarily lost control and the strangers had no idea what was making us laugh so much. They took to us so much that to our dismay they invited us on board for…you guessed it …a drink. The couple and their engaged daughter and boyfriend told jokes endlessly which made me wonder if they knew our state. Although the holding was agony it was also a real ‘hoot.’ All the time I was expecting Robert to rush out of the cabin trailing drips. He sat there grinning and rocking back and forth while the conversation went on about boats and the weather and the canal.
He has a mannerism when he’s really desperate of opening and shutting his hand in the air in front of him and it was here that I first noticed it so I asked him. His reply, “Just trying to grasp the situation.” had us in fits, me in particular because I realized what he was ‘grasping.’ My giggling fit went on till I had to say, “The situation is getting out of hand.” He understood within a second and ushered me out very briskly giving our hosts a cheery goodbye and a promise to meet the following day.
Canal people are like that I’ve since found out.
Between our boat and the bank was quite a large gap. Neither of us dared to stretch it for fear of losing bladder control. We stood on the bank arm in arm leaning together helpless with laughter and the need to hold in a whole evening’s drinking. It was only a few feet so I said, “This is silly– I’m going for it” but couldn’t move, for a sudden tremor had come on.
“Ah very well then, I’ll make a fool of myself,” said Robert. As he stretched across the gap his shorts changed color. He grabbed himself and hurried into the relative privacy of the wheel box where the toilet is. He stood there at the window and I could hear what he was doing while he waved at me in anguish on the bank. “Come on in the water’s fine,” he said. Jigging about on tiptoes I asked him to move on so I could take his place. Our new neighbors on the next boat chose to come out and see what the hilarity was about. I could not think of what to say partly because I was hanging on so desperately I would never have been able to speak any sense.
At this point anything I did would be a disaster if only the good people would go away. Instead they offered me the use of their toilet but I knew I’d never make the few yards walk. Robert came to the rescue. “Can you swim round to the other side of the boat and get the mallet I’ve just knocked overboard?”
“Right,” I said and stepped into the water peeing as I did.
Oh what a relief as the warmth counteracted the cold of the canal. Standing there up to my boobs in the water I looked up to see the neighbors slapping each other on the back. “What a pair of piss artists, you’ve made our day, see you tomorrow.” Whether they worked out what was going on, I never found out but on Sunday morning they asked if I had retrieved the mallet and I looked stupidly at them not remembering what it was all about.
That night was one long gentle cuddle that went on for hours and hours. My virginity remained intact technically speaking mainly because we fell asleep. Sunday you’ve heard about and it’s not true that it was my game. We only called it that because Robert said, “May all your Jacks be wet ones.”
So that’s the entire story that I can tell you. Robert and I, we spend a weekend together whenever we can and I have trouble keeping the boys at work from inviting me out when I’ve got a ‘Wet weekend.’
To be continued in: May need Help
May