"Ellie's" Story: Part 1

[Dr.P 1,454]

"Ellie's" Story, Part 1

Notes: I decided to try something new, since posting my memoir or "documentary" about  my relationship with "Ellie," told as I experienced it, from my point of view. I have written a FICTIONAL story about the same relationship, from the point of view of my female partner, getting into her head (and body), with her sharing her feelings about peeing, and its role in her sexuality, if any, before, during, and after her connection with me. I present both parts as if they were stories or posts on PeeFans, by "Ellie" herself. Readers who have read my factual account, "Ellie," in the "Real Pee Stories & Sightings" forum of PeeFans may wish to read Part 2 first, for a direct comparison of the same events, as experienced by the two of us.

Of the half dozen, or so, "wet" relationships I have enjoyed, over a lifetime, "Ellie" was the least well known to me, on many levels, and the hardest to write about. Although I dated her off and on, and was fairly close to her for more than ten years, I was never able to develop a full-on "wet" relationship with her, with two-way conversations about interests which we may have shared, but didn't recognize in each other, during that entire time. Sadly, this was a missed opportunity for both of us, I think.

In PART 1, she tells the story of how her early experiences caused her to develop a very deep, strong, and lifelong connection between peeing and sexuality. This account is almost entirely fictional, although I have used some facts which she told me about her early life, in it. In PART 2, I have her tell her own story of her relationship with me, and how my behavior and reactions affected her, and us, as she recounts some of the same events I described in my memoir, plus other events, seen through her eyes, from her point of view, which was entirely different from mine.

Hope this alternate point of view is enjoyable to you readers. I would particularly enjoy hearing from you, dear ladies, to see if these stories are credible in the eyes of women. Could you believe they were being told by a woman? In other words, can a man actually transcend the gender gap in a fictional story about something as intimate, personal, and gender-specific as peeing, and its connection with sex? It would also be fun to read about you ladies' own experiences, trying to gauge, or initiate a man's interest in your peeing, or how you communicated your interest in peeing to him.

Dr.P

 

"Ellie's" Story, PART 1: "Pee and Me"

By Dr. P

I just read a memoir, written by a "Dr.P," of an intimate relationship he had with a woman, several decades ago. I am absolutely certain that I am that woman. Although things happened pretty much as he said, physically, there was a world of difference in how we saw and interpreted them. I love having the opportunity to tell our story, as I remember it, and I will, in Part 2. But first, let me give you readers a little background on my life, before I met the guy I knew simply as "P." (Not using his full name, for obvious reasons.)

I grew up in a relatively small town in the Southwest, toward the end of the Great Depression, and we didn't have indoor plumbing until I was in my teenage years. So I was accustomed to not having a whole lot of privacy for my bodily functions, and even had to pee outside, on occasion. That was pretty much the norm for the community in which I lived at that time, and nobody seemed to attach much importance to closing and locking bathroom doors, just to pee, even if they had indoor plumbing. I never thought much about peeing in a sexual way, until I started dating, at about 16 years old.

I remember my first real boyfriend and I making love at his house, in his bedroom, once, when his entire family was away. Afterward, I got up and went to pee in the tiny bathroom, which was immediately adjacent to his bedroom. The walls were very thin, and I'm sure he could hear me very clearly. I had become aware that my peeing sounded different from most other girls, in the girls' bathrooms at school, because it usually gushed out fast, making a hissing sound, rather than a soft, melodic tinkle, like most of the other girls. At first, I was a little embarrassed by that, but nobody ever said anything about it, so I forgot about it, pretty much.

I don't remember whether I even bothered to close the bathroom door that time, since my boyfriend was kind of zonked out on the bed (I thought), after quite a wild love-making session. I guess my pee made a pretty wicked hiss, because I really had to go badly. But otherwise, I thought nothing of it, until I went back into the bedroom.

He was definitely awake, with a strange look on his face, and another raging hard on, not more than ten minutes after we had come together! I smiled and asked him what had caused that? He looked embarrassed, and wouldn't tell me. Needless to say, we made love again. I didn't think any more about it for a while. I didn't have much experience at that time, but I had heard that teenage boys were loaded with hormones, and capable of some amazing sexual performances. Naively, I didn't make any connection between my peeing within earshot of him, and his renewed excitement.

About a week later, we were making love in his car, at a local lovers' lane. We had finished a six pack of beer, between us, and were feeling quite relaxed. We both came, and I needed to pee, so I just opened the car door, sat on the running board, spread my legs, and let it fly onto the pavement. My stream hissed wickedly again, and splattered loudly on the asphalt. He was right behind me, inside the car, listening to it all. When I finished peeing, I asked him for some Kleenex to wipe with. He handed it to me, and I saw the same strange look on his face that I had seen the previous week, and felt another growing hard on, pressing against my back.

Now, I was quite sure that his renewed excitement was somehow related to my peeing in his presence. So I asked him again. This time, the beer loosened his tongue, and he confessed that hearing my hissing pee, splattering on the street, was a huge turn-on for him. I questioned him again about the previous week, when he had obviously heard me peeing in his toilet, and he admitted that that had been a huge thrill, and had turned him on then, too. I asked him why he wouldn't tell me that, the previous week, and he said he was embarrassed by his reaction, and thought I would get mad at him, if he admitted to it. I assured him that I was not mad at him at all, just curious, and I got him off again by hand, just to prove it. He was very relieved, and began confiding in me and sharing his feelings more readily.

Our relationship grew closer, and much more intimate, sharing our secret pleasures, whenever we could. He was still kind of shy about his interest in my peeing, but he slowly began to open up. He actually sneaked a peek at me peeing beside his car one night, but he couldn't see very much, because it was too dark. He finally got up the courage to ask me if he could come with me and watch me pee on the toilet at his house, so he could have a clearer view. I had never been shy about my peeing, and I wanted to see his reaction, so I readily agreed to let him watch me. We didn't have too many opportunities to be together at his house, because his family was usually around, but we finally got a chance, a couple of weeks later. We had a few hours worth of time, and we managed to score a few bottles of beer, to supply plenty of liquid, and help us relax.

I wore a skirt, blouse, bra, and panties that day, thinking that outfit was more feminine and sexy than jeans or shorts. Also a lot easier and quicker to get out of the way, if I needed to pee in a hurry. We sat on the couch, kissing, making out, and drinking our beer, getting more and more aroused and relaxed, as the alcohol took effect. Finally, I announced that I had to pee, got up , took his hand, and brought him with me to the bathroom. I lifted my skirt up above my waist and gathered it around me there, out of the way, slipped my panties below my knees, and sat on the toilet, with my bare thighs a few inches apart, as was my usual habit. I watched him intently, all the while. He knelt in front of me, with his face very close to my knees, almost between them, and stared at my pussy. I adjusted my position to give him a better view, opening my legs a little wider, and leaning back slightly more than usual. I asked if he was ready, and he stammered a "yes." He was so excited, he could hardly talk!

So I started to pee. I had drunk quite a lot of the beer, so I had a full bladder, and my pee gushed forward, spraying, and hissing a lot, with a few drops sprinkling the front of the seat, as well as my legs. He was absolutely mesmerized by it, and didn't even seem to mind a few droplets reaching his face! When I finally finished peeing, he grabbed me and kissed me passionately. I forgot all about wiping, yanked his pants down, and made him sit on the toilet. Then I squatted over him, as if I was squatting to pee again, but facing him and the wall, rather than forward, and impaled my dripping wet pussy on his hard cock. We both came, almost immediately. I felt that I was well rewarded for letting him watch me pee!

Of course, now that he had seen me pee, he had a million questions. I guess he had never seen a girl or woman pee before, which I found hard to believe. I think that my sharing my secrets with him turned him on, too, so he liked to ask questions. He told me that seeing my pee come out in a spray, rather than a round, smooth stream like a guy's, was extremely sexy, and turned him on like nothing he had ever seen before. I told him that was just the way mine usually came out, naturally, and thanked him with a kiss. I was thinking that that always made its direction a little harder to control, so I had to be careful, especially when sitting on these indoor toilets. When I peed in the old outhouse, I didn't really sit down, just squatted over the hole, and let it spray wherever it wanted to. A few dribbles here or there didn't matter. Now I had to sit all the way down, and be careful not to sprinkle the white seat, or leave yellow dribbles on it, or on the floor, near it. I didn't tell him any of that. Didn't want to burst his bubble. Did it always hiss and spray like that? (Hiss, yes; spray, not as much, unless I had to go really bad, as I did that time.) Did my legs always get wet, as they had that time? (No. Not usually. That only happened because I leaned back to give him a better look.) Could I pee standing up, like a guy? (Not really. I had tried it once. It sprayed all over my legs, and was pretty messy, so I didn't try it again.)

A couple of weeks later, we went on a picnic of sorts, in the hill country, near a little creek. We sat on an old blanket, on the grass, ate sandwiches, and drank beer. It was a week day, and the place was absolutely deserted. We were all alone. One thing led to another, and we started making out pretty heavily. His pants were off, and he was lying on his back, with a huge hard on. I squatted on top of him, with my pussy over his cock. I looked him in the eye and gave him a mischievous grin. He looked at my pussy and grinned back. Then I started peeing on his cock. He loved it! When I was almost finished, I lowered my wet, still-peeing pussy onto his hard cock, we fucked wildly, and came together. Then we lay there together, resting for a few minutes.

He softened, and slipped out of me, and we rolled over, so he was on top of me. He said he had to pee, too, and got a wicked gleam in his eye, looking down at my pussy. I read his thought, and told him to go ahead and pee on me. We were all wet, with my pee and his cum, anyway, and we could wash off in the creek, later. He got up on his knees, between my legs, and tried to pee, but he was starting to get hard again, and having trouble. He finally managed to get started, but his aim was not very good. His stream hit my lower belly first, then my legs, and he finally zeroed in on my pussy. It felt warm and nice, and then got quite exciting when it hit my lips, near my clit. I reached down and spread my lips, exposing my clit, and told him to pee on it directly. He did, and I had the wildest, most mind-blowing orgasm I had ever had, within what seemed like seconds! I bucked and writhed so much that he thought he had hurt me, for a moment. I assured him that he hadn't hurt me at all, but had given me a fantastic orgasm. I hugged and kissed him, and we collapsed in each other's arms, rested, and dozed off for a little while. We got up, washed in the creek, and sat on the grass, while the blanket dried in the sun.

From that time on, I was totally hooked on pee sex. I associated peeing with sexuality, and the two became permanently linked in my mind and body. Whenever I peed, even alone and in private, I thought about sex, and that fantastic orgasm I had enjoyed, and often got aroused, just sitting on the toilet! There were other benefits, like feeling much closer to my boyfriend, and the pleasure I got from watching the intensity of his reactions to something as simple as watching me pee, or even just listening to me. We repeated our experience on the blanket as often as we could manage, and it was always fantastic for me.

We eventually grew up, graduated from high school, went to different colleges, and drifted apart. We never actually broke up. I dated quite a few guys after that, and always looked for hints that they might be into pee sex, too. My favorite test was to simply pee with the bathroom door open, or half-open, indoors, so they could see, or at least hear me, or in a place where they could peek at me, outdoors, and observe their reactions. Some of them showed obvious signs of interest, or made comments, some nice, some not so nice. Here, my hiss was a definite advantage. The guys who were interested often told me it was very different, and quite sexy. One guy even asked me why my pee hissed so loudly. I told him it had always done that. Others pretended not to notice, or got embarrassed when it was obvious that I knew they had noticed, or actually watched me. So I learned that all guys did not necessarily find my peeing sexy; to some, it seemed like it really was a turn-off. Others wanted to pretend it was a turn-off, because they were embarrassed by their interest in something so forbidden. So I became more careful, looking for indications of interest, before doing anything more overt.

I did find that I always had the best sex, and developed the most intimate, lasting, relationships with guys who were interested in my peeing, and found it erotic. I finally married a guy who was totally fascinated with my peeing, just like my first boyfriend had been. He told me that my hissing pee was uniquely feminine, and incredibly erotic, to him. While we were married, he accumulated a large porn collection, some of which consisted of women peeing, in various styles and postures, clothed and unclothed. I didn't mind. Our sex life was good, while it lasted. We divorced, for other reasons, and I was single again and dating, in my mid thirties, when I finally met "P."