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Alfresco

The Rugby Girls

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Alfresco    910

It is a new year, so I thought it was time to write a new story. I'm hoping this one will become several chapters, but here is the first one.

Chapter 1 – First Training Session

I was very excited. I had always been a bit of a Tom Boy and following try outs last week I was waiting for a letter from the local Ladies Rugby Team to let me know whether I had qualified for a place. I was just arriving home from work on Friday evening and pushed the door open to find a letter waiting for me. I tore it open and read “We would like to thank you for your interest in joining the Caverton Ladies Rugby Team and for attending Try Outs last week. We are pleased to be able to inform you that you have qualified to join our training squad. Please attend your first training session on Tuesday evening at 6pm, where you will be issued with CLR team strip. Please bring your own boots”. I jumped with joy and spent the whole weekend with anticipation for what Tuesday would bring.

Tuesday arrived and I went to work as usual – I worked in a garden centre in Caverton, where my duties were mainly keeping the outdoor plant area well stocked, watering the plants and advising customers. At 4:00pm I clocked off and headed home for a quick change out of my garden centre issue green trousers and matching green polo shirt into a tracksuit and trainers. I had a bite to eat and a couple of drinks then headed off to the local club. CLR were not exactly a major league team and their training ground was somewhat modest, consisting basically of a marked out field with a portacabin for changing rooms. I was met by the head coach, a young lady called Susan, who issued me with a pair of black shorts, a red and black rugby top and long black socks. She directed me to the portacabin to change and I headed inside, where I found several other girls already changing. I said hello and introduced myself as Toni, then I removed my tracksuit bottoms and pulled my new black shorts over my legs and pulled them onto my curvy backside. I noted that they were a snug fit rather than the more typical loose fitting shorts that are normally seen in male rugby teams, but looking at the others in the room, I realised that they all were snugly fitted, so that was fine. The top was a similar snug fit, emphasising my boobs and wrapping nicely round my flat stomach. Looking round the room, I felt a little intimidated as a lot of the girls were bigger than me and I felt like I might get pulverised on the pitch. I headed out of the door with a woman called Sam and we turned right towards the pitch where we started warming up. I noticed a few of the girls turned left towards the back of the portacabin, which I thought was a little odd, but then I figured that the store must be round there and they were going to get some training equipment. However, I soon noticed them returning empty handed, but I had more important things to worry about, like listening to the coach and soon we were heavily into the training. It was hard work and tiring, so I kept taking swigs from my water bottle. After 40 minutes, we had a break and I really needed a wee. I asked Sam where the toilets were and her response surprised me a little; “I’m afraid there aren’t any”, she said “we could only just about afford to get the portacabin – far less any toilets or plumbed in facilities.” I must have looked a bit shocked, but she continued “Don’t worry, come with me”. Sam led me to the side of the portacabin and round the back. The sight that met me took me aback for a minute. Susan and Fiona were both squatted down on the grass behind the portacabin, shorts and knickers at their knees, feet apart and their bums just above the grass. They were spraying streams of wee between their legs, watering the grass in front of them. Susan has a tissue in her hand, finished up, wiped and tossed her tissue into a nearby bin. Fiona didn’t worry about such delicate practices – she simply wiggled her bum, stood up, hauled up her shorts and ran back out to the field. I wasn’t sure about this – I’d not peed outside in a long time, but I really needed to go. Sam said “It is OK, it is standard practice here ; we all need to piss and we have to make the best of what we have – look, we even have a loo roll dispenser attached to the portacabin wall under this cover and a bin especially for used tissues”. I was slightly impressed, but still not sure until Sam turned her back to the wall, dropped her shorts and squatted down to release her own jet into the grass. I decided I had to join her, so I took some tissue from the dispenser, took a furtive look around, then gingerly lowered my shorts and knickers in one go. I got stage fright and couldn’t go for a minute. I had to try and relax, but it felt so strange. Then, I felt the pressure at my urethra and suddenly my wee burst forth. I was weeing outside! It felt strangely liberating and I allowed my eyes to shut as I felt the much needed sense of relief between my legs taking me to a place of total relaxation. As my stream splashed into the grass, it gradually lessened in force. I opened my eyes and realised that Sam was looking at me. She had finished her own relief and was stood waiting for me so we could return to the pitch. I suddenly snapped back to the real world, feeling slightly embarrassed. I quickly wiped, snatched up my shorts and tossed the tissue in the bin.

During the second half of the training, I noticed during a pause in proceedings that Toni had dropped to one knee and pulled the leg of her shorts to one side. She was weeing nonchalantly onto the pitch whilst listening to the trainer and nobody was batting an eyelid. Sam spotted me looking and said “That’s another technique that is quite common round here – as there are no toilets, some of the girls don’t even bother going to the portacabin. They prefer to avoid interrupting their training on the grounds that if they are going to pee outside anyway, why bother going round the back?” Sure enough, no sooner had Toni finished and snapped her shorts back in place, Jenny was pulling her shorts to the side and adding her own fresh steaming liquid to the field. I noted that the whole process only took her about 30 seconds, just a few seconds longer than her actually weeing – it was actually very convenient and as the field was deserted apart from the team members, it made total sense.

At the end of the training, Susan congratulated me on my efforts and said that I had fitted well into the team. I went back to get changed. I was a very muddy, but there were no showers, so I had to make do with a quick wipe down with a towel and pulled on my tracksuit for the drive home. As I was leaving the room, I noticed that the two ladies who exited in front of me turned to the left, presumably to make use of the “toilet” before hitting the road. I decided that wasn’t a bad idea and I thought I should probably get used to the “facilities”, so I followed them round the back. Jane was wearing a short skirt and she simply stood with her legs apart as a stream fell straight down between them. Julie was wearing trousers and pulled them down slightly as she adopted a high squat, with her rear towards the portacabin. The pee erupted from her and hit the wall of the portacabin, washing down it. The two girls laughed at the effect. I grabbed some more tissue and squatted down next to the bin, easing my jogging pants down just clear of my bum. As once more I started watering the grass, I realised that the Julie’s bum was right on my eyeline and I had an excellent view of her jet of pee forcefully emerging from between her legs and splashing the portacabin wall. I didn’t set out to look, but I found myself transfixed, watching as the arc of the stream weakened and dropped until it became just a series of drips to the floor. She wiggled her bum and pulled up her trousers without bothering to wipe. I was now coming to the end of my own pee, so I wiped, eased my jogging pants back into place, tossed the tissue in the bin and headed for the car, totally worn out, covered in mud, but somewhat exhilarated. I was looking forward to my next session already.

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Sophie    905

Great story, really enjoyed reading this . I'm looking forward to chapter two, especially if it continues like this .

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steve25805    31,444

Great story, Alfresco. Looking forward to the next installment.

It's great to see that in the last two or three months, the story-writing on this forum has picked up a lot in terms of quantity whilst remaining just as high in quality. Good stuff. :thumbsup:

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paul66    65

good story, i looking forward, the girls became more naughty, so much locations in and out a sports area.......

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Alfresco    910

Chapter 2 – The first game

The following Saturday, the team were playing in a match. I wasn’t deemed ready to play in the team, but they invited me along to watch and see how the tactics and skills were used in a match. There are not many ladies teams in our area, so many involve a bit of travelling. This one wasn’t too bad, only about 45 minutes away, so the plan was to meet up at the club and take four cars with four or five people in each to the opponents ground. I had breakfast and then made a coffee in my travel mug and filled a 1 litre bottle with water and headed for our club ground, where a few of the ladies, including Susan and Toni had already arrived. Shortly after my arrival, Sam pulled up and got out of the car. She was looking uncomfortable as she said hello and immediately squatted at the back of the car, pulling her shorts to one side and peeing a torrent into the gravel whilst in full view of us. “Ahhh, that’s better!” she said, “I should have gone before I left, but I was a bit worried about being late.”

Other cars arrived and soon the whole team were assembled. “We are leaving in five minutes girls”, called out Susan. This statement caused a few of the girls to disappear behind the portacabin and a few of the less inhibited girls popped a squat amongst the cars. Fiona pulled her shorts down as she squatted and flooded the gravel behind her car whilst Jane pulled hers to the side and did another standing pee like she had at the training session. Although I had become familiar with the team’s general relaxed attitude to peeing, I wasn’t feeling ready to be quite so open, so I walked to the back of the portacabin where I joined Sam and Julie who were both already in position – Julie doing her trademark high squat whilst Sam squatted low to the ground. As I wasn’t playing today, I was wearing a knee length dress, which meant that I was able to crouch down for a quick squat and still be mostly hidden by the dress. I wasn’t wearing knickers, so it was really easy. I felt the familiar surge of pee down to my urethra followed by a short trickle falling into the grass. I didn’t have much to release as it wasn’t long since I’d left home, but once again I strangely enjoyed the feeling of air around my naked pussy and the freedom of peeing wherever I happened to squat and not worrying about where it landed.

We got into the cars and headed out on our 45 minute journey to the opposition’s ground. They were another small team, but they had managed to secure a National Lottery Grant and had built a small stand. It would probably seat a couple of hundred people and at the back there were a few doors; home changing room, away changing room, ref’s room, gents’ toilet, ladies’ toilet and a small tea/coffee bar. Several groups of spectators were milling around and there was already a queue emerging through the ladies’ toilet door. Looking at the queue, I was regretting the decision to drink the coffee on the way over, but thought it would be fine as there was bound to be a toilet in the changing room. I went in with the team and found that I was wrong. So, reluctantly I went out to join the toilet queue whilst my team mates got changed for the match. Jane came out of the changing room with me, muttering something about lack of facilities and joined the queue with me. We could see it wasn’t going to move very quickly and Jane looked at her watch, considering that warm up was to start fairly shortly. She walked to the front of the queue and asked if she could cut the line as she was playing and had to get on the pitch, but one of the “ladies” at the front got a bit gobby and told her to wait her turn like everyone else. At this point a handsome bloke was just leaving the Gents and seeing the way Jane was being treated, he said that if she was in a hurry then she should use the Gents. Jane didn’t need a second invitation and strode over to the Gents as the bloke held the door for her. Seizing the opportunity, I walked in with her and was greeted with the sight of three urinals and one cubicle. There was a guy stood pissing in the nearest urinal and I couldn’t help take my eyes away from the sight of the glistening liquid pouring from his healthy sized cock. The cubicle was locked and there were some not particularly pleasant noises coming from within. It could be in use for a while. Jane said “I’m not waiting for that!” (pointing to the cubicle) and strode up to the third urinal where she pulled her shorts to the side, thrust her pelvis forward and started spraying a laser jet of pale yellow into the urinal. The guy who was pissing looked across in amazement as he was finishing up, his stream dwindled, but his cock started to rise, probably helped by the fact that he started giving it a few strokes as he took in the sight of Jane washing the porcelain. The bloke who had let us in stood there gobsmacked and then came out with “Bloody hell! You’ve got better aim than most blokes!!” Jane laughed and continued to rain her pee into the urinal until it dwindled. She cut the flow and just a few stray drops fell to the floor before she snapped her shorts back into place and turned to me. “Your turn Tanya”, she said. I’d never tried peeing standing, but I vowed then and there that I’d be trying it at home in the shower later. In the meantime, I needed a solution, so I hopped up on the nearby sink and as the two men looked on, I washed the sink, being thankful for the second time that day that I’d omitted to wear any knickers. The guy at the urinal had turned round now and he said “You’ll have sopping knickers after that love!” I replied cheekily “No problems there!” and lifted the dress briefly and let him have a quick glance at my nakedness with the stream pouring from between my legs into the sink. He still had his cock in his hand, seemingly too distracted to have got around to putting it away and I saw him give another couple of tugs as his jaw dropped for the second time in as many minutes.

As we left the Gents, another two men were coming in – they seemed a little surprised to see us emerging, but Jane simply said “excuse us” and we passed them by.

Back in the changing room, we found that the girls were all changed and getting ready to go out. Susan announced “Five minutes girls”. Sam responded “OK, just got to go and pee” and headed for the door with others following. Jane said “Bad idea – ladies, the queue is horrendous”. “Sod that” said Fiona and she headed for the showers, where she turned to face us and squatted down, pulling down her shorts and peeing onto the shower floor, splashing her boots in the process. Sam and Jenny joined her, as did several of the other girls, whilst another girl, Gemma, simply squatted over a drain in the middle of the changing room and Julie, went into a corner of the room next to the lockers, slipped her shorts to her knees exposing her firm rounded buttocks as she reversed into the gap between the lockers and the wall, adopting her usual high squat and peed down the wall, a pool gathering at the base of the wall and running like a narrow stream across the tiles toward the middle of the room. Mia was sat on the slatted bench where she had got changed. She slipped her shorts down and remained sitting on the bench. Very shortly, her stream could be seen falling between the slats to the floor where it bounced and splattered onto the floor, splashing her boots and lower legs. During all this, Susan had been looking around and when she noted that everyone was done, she announced “Right, if you are all done, let’s get out there!” and we headed out to the pitch for the match. I noticed that Susan hadn’t peed, but I guessed she may have used the shower whilst Jane and I were in the Gents.

At pitch side, there were two alcoves for the teams built into the structure of the small stand, below and in front of the sloped seating for spectators. We gathered around the away team alcove and I sat on the bench whilst Susan got the girls to do stretches and warm ups. Soon the match was underway and Susan and the two substitutes, Fiona and Ellie, came and sat on the bench with me. They were all wearing their rugby tracksuits with the long team jackets over the top. Susan talked me through the game and pointed out tactics being used and relating it back to our training. About 5 minutes into the game, she slid backwards on the bench so that her backside was hanging over the back of the bench and she reached up under her coat and slipped down the back of her jogging pants. Whilst continuing to watch the game and provide commentary, she nonchalantly released her pee and I could hear a faint hiss – barely audible due to the noise of the crowd. I only heard it because I was right next to her. Her stream went on for ages and eventually dwindled to a few drips, when she gave herself a bit of a shake and slipped her shorts back up. “I really needed that”, she said. I asked why she hadn’t gone in the changing room with the others and she replied “Well, I could have done, but to be honest I prefer peeing outside. Some of the girls only have the relaxed approach to peeing out of convenience and necessity from experience at our pitch, but a few of us actually really enjoy peeing in different places. Mia, for instance, likes to pee onto things – like the bench in the changing room. Julie enjoys her high squats, and likes to have a wall to pee onto behind her and I prefer peeing outside and feeling the fresh air around my pussy as I pee. I love the idea of peeing where I shouldn’t when people are nearby. This is especially good as there are several hundred people right behind us, but they didn’t notice a thing! The team kit was chosen with more than looks being considered. This long jacket, for instance, hides activity below, so it is OK to pee on a bench and not expose yourself. The shorts are deliberately black as it is OK to wet yourself and next to nothing shows”.

At half time, we were losing slightly – 15 points to 12, all the girls came into the area in front of the alcove for a drink and a pep talk. I noticed Jenny and Toni both dropping to one knee and pulling her shorts aside for a discrete pee whilst pretending to stretch. Sam and Jane both sat on the grass, with their knees pulled up towards their chests and their feet just in front of them. I noticed Sam’s crotch starting to glisten as she peed into her shorts and the liquid gently flowed through into the grass. Jane’s crotch also started glistening, but she was peeing a little harder and I actually saw her stream push through the cloth forming a small jet into the grass just in front of her. Mia came and sat on the bench and was soon peeing through her shorts onto the seat. The best thing was that I doubt if anyone in the crowd even suspected a thing. By the time they all got up to go back on pitch, the wetness on Mia, Jane and Sam’s shorts was not even noticeable.

The second half went pretty well for us and with five minutes to go, we were holding our own with 21 points each. Gemma was running forward towards a try, but the opposition was too much and she realised she wouldn’t get through, so she put in a final drop goal and put us into the lead by 3 points. The final whistle blew and after shaking hands with the opposition, the girls came off the pitch.

Back in the changing rooms, the mood was high due to the win. The girls stripped off and went to the communal showers where the water cascaded over their muscular forms and stripped the mud off their naked bodies. I saw Jane stand with her legs apart and giggle as she thrust her hips forward and peed in the shower. Her stream caught Julie on the leg, which caused some laughter from other girls. In retaliation, Julie stuck her bum out and peed backwards, catching Jane on the thighs, which enlisted further merriment from the girls. Some of the other girls probably also peed whilst showering, but they didn’t make a show of it. However, Mia came out of the shower dripping wet and walked naked across the changing room to the bench where she had been before. She sat down and whilst drying her top half with a towel, she spread her legs and a golden stream erupted from her pussy, splashing the floor in front of the bench. Susan was congratulating the team on the win, with the background hissing and splashing coming from Mia’s direction.

I figured I would need to pee again before hitting the road. I debated going in the shower area, but I didn’t want to get wet. The toilet was bound to have a huge queue again as all the spectators were leaving the stand. The floor was already covered in wet patches from where the team had left trails of water on leaving the shower, so I decided I could just add to it. I squatted down and spread my legs and allowed my pee to flow forth, splashing to the floor just in front of my shoes and mingling with the other wet patches on the floor. Susan looked across approvingly and several of the other girls gave me a smile.

Soon we were heading out to the cars to travel home. I was travelling with Susan along with Sam and Fiona. Susan unlocked her car and we went round the back of the car to put kit in the boot. Susan dipped down, hidden by the car and slipped her jogging pants down and hitched up her coat whilst she jet washed the tarmac of the car park. We got in the car and drove away, leaving a sizeable puddle at the edge of the car park, which was running through the parking space and out to the car park.

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daemoniak    92

Another excellent instalment, thanks Alfresco. I really liked the shy recruit getting bold enough to pee in the sink and flash the bloke and I am looking forward to her "corruption" by the naughtier Susan "Outdoors", Mia "Bench" and Julie "Wall".

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wetwulf    365

An excellent story, Alfresco, even hotter than the first. I love that Susan finally admitted that the girls were free to wet themselves. I look forward to reading more about these girls!

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uniloo    79

It will be interesting to see what happens at a home game when the opposition team (and spectators) discover the lack of toilet facilities. I hope that a future chapter will cover this.

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Alfresco    910
It will be interesting to see what happens at a home game when the opposition team (and spectators) discover the lack of toilet facilities. I hope that a future chapter will cover this.

I've been wondering about that one. My initial thoughts were that this team would always travel away because they didn't have proper facilities to entertain another team, however, it could turn out to be a very interesting event, so maybe I will go down that route as well. So far, in my mind, I've got at least three more episodes formulating. Just need to get time to actually write them!

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Alfresco    910

Thanks Sid and Peedude. I'm a bit behind on my writing - busy life and all that. I must find time to do the next chapter. I have it all formulated in my head but just need to put fingers to keyboard.......

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Alfresco    910

Chapter 3 – More training and life in general

About a month has gone by since I wrote about our first match. Since then, I’ve been attending training sessions and have got very used to the idea of peeing behind the changing rooms or next to the car and yes, I’ve even got myself relaxed enough that I’ve peed on the pitch during training rather than wasting time running off behind the changing rooms. I have developed a technique that works well for me and is quite discrete. I tend to kneel down, sit on my ankles, move my knees apart a little and using one hand I move my shorts out of the way using the other hand on top of my legs to give a bit of cover. The only way anyone would see what I’m doing is if they were right in front of me and the only people that would be that close would be team mates who wouldn’t mind anyway. I’ve got this off to quite a fine art now and that means I no longer ever end up having to be desperate and hold during training. All I need is a quick 30 seconds out and that is enough. I pee quite hard and I love the way the jet hits the grass between my legs, causing a foamy puddle, which soon soaks away into the ground. My legs get a few splashes, but that just helps wash off the mud!

As I have got more relaxed I’ve found myself in situations in daily life where I have been bursting to pee and being even slightly in pain whilst waiting to find a toilet. I sometimes thought that if was a shame I wasn’t on the rugby pitch as I could have just gone there and then. Then, one time, I was working at the garden centre and was in the outdoor plants shrubs section when I really needed to pee. It was another half an hour to my break time and whilst they don’t mind me taking short breaks to nip to the toilet, the toilet was all the way back inside and it would have taken 10 minutes to get there, pee and get back, so it suddenly struck me that there was no reason why outdoor peeing should be limited to the rugby field.

I looked furtively around and saw that there was an older couple browsing the plants two aisles away, but otherwise nobody was around. I weighed up the options; ten minutes to traipse up to the building, get to the toilet and get back, or less than a minute to pee there. Well, common sense prevailed of course. I had a flat trolley with plants on that I was putting out on display. I sat on the edge of the trolley so that I was hidden from one side by the trolley, and two sides by the plants in the displays, leaving only one side exposed if anyone should happen to round the corner. I slipped my green trousers down just a small amount, perching my bare backside on the very edge of the trolley. It was still very cold, so I had my long coat on, which covered most of my modesty anyway. Then I relaxed and very quickly a strong stream was hissing and pouring out from under me, splattering on the concrete below. In the otherwise quiet garden centre It made a bit of a racket and I only hoped that the couple nearby didn’t come to investigate the source of the noise. 30 seconds later and I gave a little wiggle to flick off the last drops and quickly pulled up my knickers and trousers in one movement; the last few drops making a damp patch in my knickers. Much relieved, I smiled to myself, admiring my own sense of improvisation which had saved me wasting 10 minutes on walking up to the building (I do enough walking in this job as it is). I realised the large puddle in the middle of the otherwise dry concrete path was a bit obvious, so I grabbed the hosepipe and watered the shrubs, making sure I got plenty on the path and so disguising my misdeed.

Well, of course that was a turning point for me and a couple of days later, I found myself in a similar situation whilst taking a wheel barrow of garden waste to the compost area at the far end of the site. This was an area which was located behind a fence out of sight of the general public and consisted of four wooden composting bins about 1m high with compost at various stages. I seemed to remember that someone once said that urine was good for compost anyway, so as I entered the compound I checked over my shoulder that no other employees were following and then I moved to the bin which was the furthest from the entrance, undid my trousers, slipped them down with my knickers, reversed against the nearest edge of the wooden bin and used my hands either side to boost myself up so that I was sat on the wooden edge with my bum hanging over the compost. I let loose and first the pee dropped straight down onto the compost, then with increasing pressure it moved forward and sprayed down the inside of the wooden bin wall directly underneath me. I let out a sigh of relief along with the hissing of my pee and fully relaxed until I was empty and the last few drips were falling to the compost. I had a tissue in my pocket, so I wiped carefully and threw the tissue in the compost; well they are biodegradable anyway right?! I jumped down and pulled up my knickers, adjusting them before pulling up my trousers. There was the tell-tale sign of the pee down the inside of the bin, but I figured it would dry soon enough. The tissue sat on top of the compost though and I thought that might not be such a great idea, but I had the new load of garden waste that I had brought with me, so I shovelled that out of the wheelbarrow and dumped it on top, hiding the tissue. I left the compound pushing my now empty wheel barrow. As I exited the compound, I saw a colleague, James, heading to the compound with his own barrow of waste and I realised that maybe it was a bit close for comfort as 30 seconds earlier and he would have caught me with my pants down. Strangely, that slightly excited me as it seemed to add naughtiness to the activity rather than it just being convenience.

Later in the afternoon I passed James again and he gave me a smile, which was somewhat more than his normal grunt of acknowledgement. Then, at afternoon break, I was having a cup of tea in the staff mess room when he came in. He made his own tea and sat down opposite me. He just smiled at me at first and then eventually he asked “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“No, of course not.” I responded.

“Well it might be a bit cheeky, but earlier today, I passed you coming out of the composting compound and when I was putting the compost in the bin, I noticed a very wet streak on the back of the front wall, then when I added my compost and turned it over, a tissue turned up. Now, I know us lads sometimes pee in there to save going up to the building, but……. Do you also pee there?” he blurted out.

I felt myself flushing red, but then thought that he had already admitted peeing there himself, so it shouldn’t be a big deal. “OK”, I replied, “Maybe not my finest moment and it was the first time, but yes, I peed there this morning. I was totally desperate and it was too far back to the building, so I thought I’d get away with it, but it seems like I hadn’t bargained on your detective skills!”

I thought he was going to give me some garbage about it not being very ladylike or chastise me in some way, but his response surprised me: “That’s hot”. He simply said. Then, “If I’m not being to crude, I’d love to see how you do that. It might seem strange and I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but I really love it when girls are willing to pee away from a toilet. If you ever need a lookout, let me know”.

With that, James stood up and walked away, leaving me looking still a little flushed. However, I also felt a little excitement inside me and it struck me that I was also imagining in my head James stood next to the bin, penis in hand, watering the compost. My mind continued to wander and I realised my hand had subconsciously strayed into my crotch as I imagined myself sitting there again with James watching……

Three days later, I saw on the roster that I was working with James near the bottom of the site, tidying up an area ready to receive a delivery of new plants for the spring season. I inwardly felt pangs of excitement as I realised that there could be some opportunities for fun that day. I had never peed in front of anyone except the rugby team and those blokes in the gents toilets at the away game, but this would be different, peeing in front of someone I knew and knowing in advance that he thought it was hot. I also thought that I could use it to my advantage both this time and maybe in future.

I met James in the mess room and made sure to have a large cup of tea before we went out. I also invited James to do the same. He looked at me and said “We’ll be a bit far away to be drinking too much……. Oh, I see your thinking..!” I may have been imagining it, but I thought I detected a slight stirring in his trousers. Anyway, he also drank his tea and we both filled water bottles to take with us.

Down at the work site, it was heavy and thirsty work, so we kept swigging on our bottles. At morning break time, we went up to the building and had another cup of tea, but neither of us went to the toilet. Nothing was said, but there was an unspoken knowledge that toilets weren’t going to be necessary that day. We refilled our bottles and headed back to work. I was kind of hoping that James would express his need to pee first, but about half an hour after tea break, I was really struggling and I knew I would have to make the first move.

“All that tea and water is going straight through me,” I said, “I’m going to have to let some out soon.”

“I’m glad you said that,” replied James, “I’m just about bursting here!”

Without a further discussion, we threw some dead plant material in a wheelbarrow and headed towards the compost compound. Nobody else was around, but James stood just inside the gate where he would see anyone approaching whilst I repeated the steps I had done a few days ago. I turned slightly away from him as I pulled down my trousers, hiding my own neatly pruned bush, but giving him a free view of my curvy backside. I popped up onto the wooden bin and sat there. I had a few seconds of stage fright and a tingly feeling of butterflies in my tummy knowing what I was a about to do, then my desperation surged forth and I could hear my pee blasting against the inside of the front of the box and bouncing off, spraying the compost. James looked over the side of the box and was taking in every second of the torrent jet washing the wood whilst, if the bulge was anything to go by, he was making wood of his own in his trousers! Soon the pressure reduced and the stream fell to a slow but steady stream, dropping directly onto the compost below. From a stream to a dribble and then the last few drops. I didn’t have a tissue this time, so I gave a quick shake and pulled up my trousers as I dropped forward off the box.

“Wow!” was all James could say.

“Your turn.” I responded.

“I might have a bit of a problem”, James said whilst undoing his fly. He extracted his penis, but it was pointing very much up in the air, obviously more than a little excited by what he had just seen.

After standing for a couple of minutes, he manage to get it to soften just a bit and he stood next to the compost bin. He released a strong stream which arched out into the middle of the compost. Although he had been the perfect gentleman, watching me without getting too close, I couldn’t resist temptation and I took hold of his dick and started waving it around, sending pee to the far corners of the box. “I’ve always wanted to be able to do this”, I said, “but my own plumbing isn’t really geared up for it. I hope you don’t mind.”

James’ cock stiffened a bit more, which told me that he didn’t mind, so I carried on until his flow subsided, then I gave it a little shake and left him to worry about how he was going to get it back into his trousers.

Later in the afternoon, we both needed to pee again and agreed that we should visit the compost bins once more. This time, I got James to go first on the grounds that it might be easier for him without an erection. This was very true as he pulled out his flaccid penis and simply held it in front of him whilst peeing directly into the compost. Again I gently took hold of it and started moving the stream around. I now felt a little more adventurous, so I actually got up onto the edge of the compost bin and squatted at the corner where the two sides met, with one foot on each side, facing my pussy out to the compost. I squatted low and peed hard, sending my stream well out in front of me and reaching the far side of the large bin with ease. I noticed that James hadn’t bothered to put his cock away and was casually masturbating slowly whilst he took in the sight of my stream arching across the bin. His inhibitions seemed to have reduced and he actually reached out and put his hand in the flow, causing it to splash and spray around. I didn’t object, even though some of the splash back caught my trousers. My clit was getting engorged and I couldn’t help but want his penis inside me. I got down off the bin and without pulling my trousers up, I leant forward, bending over the bin side. James didn’t need more of an invitation and he was very quickly inside me from behind. In no time at all, we both climaxed and I went weak at the knees, collapsing against the bin side. James withdrew and we re-clothed ourselves to return to work, no doubt both looking a little red in the face. James told me that it was the best experience he had had in a long while and I told him that I was likely to be peeing around the place as and when needed, so if he enjoyed what he saw then he should keep his eyes open.

Two days later, I was working in the greenhouse when the irrigation system turned on and the pitter patter of water made me realise just how much I needed to pee. I could see people outside the green house and realised that I was quite on display to the outside world, so I couldn’t just squat in the greenhouse itself. However, at the back of the greenhouse there was a shed, where we kept pots, compost supplies, watering cans etc. I was feeling a bit naughty, so I left the greenhouse and headed for the shed. James was outside and asked where I was going. “Just to collect some pots”, I replied, “Would you like to help me?” Of course after the previous experience, James was being very helpful to me lately, obviously hoping to see some more. He brought a flatbed barrow along to load the pots and I started passing them out to him for him to load. “Just a sec” I said and I went inside the shed, pulled my trousers down and backed into a corner. I started peeing with the stream drumming onto the floor and a puddle immediately started growing in front of me.

James called “What are you doing in there” and poked his head in the door. His jaw dropped as he was rewarded by the sight of my muff hovering just above the floor, the stream blasting out and the steadily growing puddle beneath me.

“Sorry” I said, “I was pretty desperate.”

“Don’t apologise on my behalf” came the response as he continued to stare whilst my flow subsided to the last few drips and I stood up before pulling up my trousers.

“What about the mess” he asked?

“Don’t worry, it will mostly run through the gaps in the floor boards and it will soon dry anyway” I nonchalantly replied.

However, James was concerned someone would find it before it dried, so we “accidentally” spilled a bag of compost over it and left it to soak up the pee with the intention of clearing it up later.......

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PeeGirl95    122

I actually play for a womens rugby team, and the pitch side peeing stories in this aren't too far away from the truth....

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glad1    432
I actually play for a womens rugby team, and the pitch side peeing stories in this aren't too far away from the truth....
You know, PeeGirl, the best stories always have at least some shred of truth. Perhaps you could add some of yours to the pile.

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Alfresco    910

Peegirl, i have no experience of a ladies rugby team, or even a mens rugby team for that matter - just pure imagination so I am glad I have got somewhere near the mark. Sounds like you could tell plenty of tales in the real sightings and true stories section. i would love to read them.

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whiskey35    31

I'll second that peegirl we'd all like to read them.

Another good story Alfresco showing how the rugby training has encouraged Toni to pee wherever she needs to, but with the 6 Nations ongoing at present I'm sure the girls rugby team will be either playing or watching the matches and there's bound to be more peeing going on. Can't wait for the next instalment.

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somedood123    22

Great stories. Really looking forward to more, especially with the possibility of an opposing team discovering the lack of facilities :biggrin:

I also really enjoyed the third installment. Kinda makes you wonder how they might deal with toilet breaks in large garden centers where the toilets could be a good walk away. The compost area makes so much sense. I can just imagine one of the women heading out there with garden waste and also enjoying a well-needed pee after staying busy in the center all morning :biggrin:

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Alfresco    910

Sorry for the delay:

Chapter 4 – The Coach Trip

At Tuesday Training, we were sitting at pitch side after training whilst Susan announced that our next match would be on Saturday against Benton – a small town about 2 hours’ drive away. I was elated to find that I was selected for the team; albeit only as a reserve, but at least I was going as a bone fide member of the squad. Susan continued to say that given the distance and time, we would be travelling by coach so that we could travel together as a group. As Susan was speaking, I heard the unmistakeable hiss of someone peeing behind me. I turned to see who had the audacity to pee whilst Susan was talking and saw Jenny kneeling with her knees apart, shorts hooked to one side and a dancing fan of pee spraying from beneath her well-manicured pubic hair. The stream glistened in the sunlight before hitting the grass a few inches in front of the source and soaking the ground between her legs. Jenny’s attention never wavered from Susan’s talk and Susan didn’t take any notice of the activity – it seemed that it was just a natural thing to do and no different to scratching an itch or moving hair away from one’s face. Susan went on to inform us that Benton was a small club similar to ours and that we were pretty evenly matched as a team, so it should be a good game, although there would be limited numbers of spectators because they didn’t have any stands, so it would just be people stood round the touch line. The last thing that Susan said was that it would be acceptable to bring some alcoholic drinks to enjoy on the return bus ride and therefore we should probably be either leaving our cars at home, or if we wanted to leave them at our ground then we’d most likely have to collect them the following day and find alternative ways home.

On Saturday, we gathered at our ground early in the morning and waited for the coach. We had all arrived in our tracksuits, portraying the team image. I took the opportunity to pop a quick squat behind the portacabin to release my morning coffee; by now, this was second nature to me and I couldn’t believe how much stress I’d endured over the previous years in always trying to hold on and find a toilet, crossing legs, bouncing, little squirts in my clothes, when it was so simple – feet a little apart, a quick squat down, lowering my jogging trousers as I dropped, relax and enjoy the feeling of pee surging to the end of my urethra then emerging first slowly then into a stronger stream for about 20 seconds then dropping back, finish with a few drops, quick wipe, toss the tissue in the bin and stand up pulling my trousers up at the same time. So easy that I can’t understand why people put themselves through the pressure of holding to find a toilet, which is probably going to be filthy anyway! As I’d finished my pee and my musings, I returned to join the others. Several other people popped behind the portacabin and a couple also simply dropped into a squat behind their cars whilst continuing their conversations.

I had in my mind that we’d have a nice air conditioned, comfortable coach, so was somewhat dismayed when the bus that turned into the car park appeared to be something from a previous age. I made a comment to Fiona and she said “It suits our purpose, it’s cheap and they don’t mind what we do on it. We’ve had trouble in the past when we have booked coaches and got a bit drunk on the way back – people have messed up the coaches and they never take booking from us again. Derek is on our wavelength, and the bus is old so he doesn’t mind if we get a little rowdy and carried away.”

We all boarded the bus and I sat about half way back, taking the window seat with Fiona next to me. “Don’t forget”, announced Susan, “All bags on the overhead racks please”. The seats were vinyl and the floor had no carpet. As the bus pulled out, it was apparent that it wouldn’t be the most comfortable of rides. Everyone chatted and Derek put some music on, so the journey passed pretty quickly. We drank coffee that we’d brought in our travel mugs and everyone was happy. About an hour into the journey, Derek braked hard at a set of lights that changed just as he was approaching them. A stream of liquid came out from under my seat and ran forward, so I presumed someone had spilled their drink from the braking. Shortly afterwards, I was starting to feel the effects of my second cup of coffee and I asked Fiona if there were any planned pee stops. Fiona laughed and said “Don’t be daft – I’ve already told you Derek doesn’t mind what we do on the bus. What do you think that is?” as she pointed to the stream of liquid on the floor. It dawned on me that it wasn’t someone’s drink – or at least it wasn’t spilled directly from the cup, but only after it had been through one of my team mate’s bladder first.

“Seriously?” I questioned.

“Yes, of course! It will be much worse on the way back and that is why we like this bus. Derek really doesn’t mind and he just hoses it out at the end of the day. That’s also why Susan said about putting your bags in the overhead storage. If you need encouragement, watch!”

Fiona pulled down her trousers to her knees and sat forward on her seat with her muff just clear of the seat. After a few seconds I heard a beautiful hissing sound and a pattering as the pee fell to the floor and spread into a widening puddle. Then, as the bus rounded a bend, the puddle spread sideways and flowed out into the aisle. Fiona sat with her trousers round her knee whilst she fished in her pocket for a tissue. She delicately wiped herself and dropped the tissue into the still spreading puddle, then raised her bum off the seat and pulled her trousers back up before sitting down again.

“See”, she remarked, “No need for pee stops. Go on – if you need to go, go!”

Although I’d become quite accustomed to peeing outside, this was a new experience for me and it didn’t seem quite right. It seemed somewhat naughty. However, whilst I was deliberating, I heard another pattering and observed that Sam, who was sitting two rows in front had her trousers at her knees, but she was sat back in her seat and there was pee falling in a wide stream from the back of the seat where the seat met the back. She must have had pee pooling between her legs and running backwards under her bottom, but she continued to sit there casually peeing. About a minute later, the pouring reduced to a few drips and Sam lifted her bottom and quickly used the side of her hand to swipe the remaining pee off the seat before pulling her trousers up and sitting back down – bound to be damp, but she didn’t seem to mind.

My mind was now made up by the increasing pressure in my bladder, so I worked my trousers down to half way between my bum and my knees, shuffled forward on the seat and relaxed. Nothing happened. I had mixed feelings coursing through my body – a great feeling of naughtiness, getting me excited and tingling, a desperately full bladder urging for relief and yet an unconscious message from my brain that this wasn’t the right place to pee, so it just wasn’t happening. So, I just sat there, trousers down, feeling very self-conscious and probably looking more than a little silly. I tried closing my eyes and pretending I was sitting on a toilet. Eventually, I could feel the pressure increasing at my urethra and finally a couple of drips emerged and fell to the floor, “drip, drip, drip” then slightly faster until I eventually managed to relax fully and a proper stream began, pattering onto to the hard floor and gaining in strength until it was pouring out in an unstoppable deluge as I opened my eyes and looked down between my legs to see it splattering below me and splashing up onto my trainers and the bottom of my jogging trousers as well as flowing from the expanding puddle under the seat in front towards the front of the bus. The relief was ecstasy and I peed for about a minute before the stream waned back to a fine dribble and the last few drips fell into the puddle. The bus rounded a bend and some of it spread out, hitting Fiona’s trainers, merging with her puddle and spreading into the aisle. I worked my trousers back up and sat there feeling a mixture of guilty pleasure and relief.

I didn’t see anyone else peeing on the journey, but I did occasionally hear a hiss or a pattering and by the time we got to the ground the floor of the bus was awash with pee. We pulled into the car park and Susan directed as we all filed off the bus, thanking Derek for driving. “No problem, pleasure as always” he said and smiled at us as we left. I noticed that even the very front seat where Susan had been sitting had a puddle under it which had run down the front steps towards the door and I also noted that Derek’s mirror had been angled downwards, so I’m sure he enjoyed the view whilst Susan had relieved herself just across the aisle from him. As we walked away from the bus, I turned and noticed through the windscreen that Derek had left his seat and was stood in the aisle, adding his own contribution to the already flooded floor.

Fiona said to me “If you enjoyed that trip, you’ll love it on the way home when we break out the beers!”

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