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Posts posted by nopjans
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Very nice. I wonder what other objects and scenarios it might suggest?
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I'm enjoying these. At one point I had chatGPT spinning some pretty interesting stories but they clamped down the method that I was using and I haven't worked to engineer new prompts.
See if you can get it to describe making some bold choices in a museum or art gallery.
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On 3/21/2024 at 8:36 AM, Db1990 said:
I love it, I all ways piss in my hotel no mattter how nice or cheap it is. This was the Chicago Ohare Marriott.
I've stayed at that Marriott and pissed on the carpet in a room there too.
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Contains naughty peeing and light vandalism.
Authors Note: I was messing around with ChatGPT and kind of surprised by what I was able to get it to generate. You can't start by just asking it to write a naughty pee story. The restrictions against explicit content kick in pretty hard. But over the course of time I was able to coax it into accepting a world where peeing anywhere was permissible. I kept pushing the limits of what it deemed acceptable, and then it started writing some pretty surprising content (with prompts from me, so it absorbed some of my writing style.) It's not too graphic as using words like pussy will make it stop cooperating.
In one scenario it created four women named Zara, Elise, Bianca, and Lila. (It had created other groups on other prompts, but this combination of women was interesting to me so I used them in my future prompts.) The output leading up to this is also fun, but this where it got kind of nuts. In this scenario, the four women are in an abandoned, run down, but formerly opulent theater. Some of the writing is repetitive but I still enjoyed it. I have done some editing to remove some, but not all, of the repetition.
The Theater Part I:
Bianca, with a twinkle in her eye, gathers her friends around in the private box of the theater, ready to weave a tale that blurs the lines between the theater's opulent past and their current mischievous escapades.
"Imagine," she starts, her voice taking on a dramatic tone, "we're back in the golden days of the this place, when this theater was the jewel of the city. Picture it bustling with the elite, the air filled with the rustle of silk gowns and the subtle scent of expensive perfumes."
She gestures grandly to the faded surroundings, "Here we are, in one of these exclusive private boxes, draped in finery, our eyes fixed on the stage where a grand performance unfolds. The actors are the best of their time, and the play is so captivating that the audience is spellbound."
Bianca sits elegantly on one of the plush chairs, leaning forward as if caught in the grip of the performance. "Now, imagine," she continues, "in the middle of this mesmerizing play, you feel the urgent call of nature. But the play is at its peak – the drama, the tension! Leaving for even a moment could mean missing the climax of the story."
Her friends lean in, caught up in her narrative. Bianca's expression becomes playfully conspiratorial, "So, what does a distinguished lady of the manor do? Miss the pivotal moment of the play or...?" She pauses for effect, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
She scoots to the edge of her seat, "With the utmost discretion, of course," she says, adopting the posture of a refined but daring aristocrat, "you decide not to leave. Instead, right here, in the midst of luxury and high society, you subtly relieve yourself. The play is too enthralling, and you, my dear friends, are far too cunning to let something as mundane as a trip to the powder room ruin your evening."
As Bianca enacts this final part of her story, her friends erupt in laughter and applause, fully enjoying the vivid image she's created – a blend of historical elegance and their own irreverent sense of adventure.
"The show must go on," Bianca declares with a flourish, concluding her tale, "and so must we, in our own, shall we say, unconventional way!"
In that moment, the private box of the theater becomes a bridge between the past and present – a place where the echoes of grand performances meet the bold spirit of four friends, rewriting history in their unique and audacious style.
Part II:
Elise, poised with a flair for the dramatic, leaps on to the railing of the private box. She begins her story, her voice echoing slightly in the grand, dusty theater."Picture this, my dearest rebels," she starts, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "We're not mere spectators in this grand theater, but the crème de la crème of society, draped in the finest silks and jewels. The play before us is a spectacle, the talk of the town, featuring the most renowned actors of the era."
She gestures grandly to the empty auditorium below them, "Here we are, in our private sanctuary above the common crowd, basking in the glory of our elevated status. The play unfolds, each scene more captivating than the last, a feast for our cultured sensibilities."
Elise moves closer to the edge of the railing, her movements graceful yet filled with a sense of daring. "But then, amidst the climax of the performance, a most human urge strikes – the need to relieve oneself. The thought of descending to the common areas, mingling with the masses, is simply unbearable. And to leave our private haven? Unthinkable!"
Her friends lean in, caught up in her vivid narration. Elise's posture becomes more theatrical, as she teeters on the brink of the railing. "So, what does a woman of such high breeding and unparalleled sophistication do in such a delicate situation? Why, she takes matters into her own hands, or rather, her own seat!"
Elise mimics the posture of a high-society lady, her expression one of faux haughtiness. "With a flair for the dramatic and a disregard for the mundane rules that govern the lesser folk, she rises to her feet. And with the elegance befitting her status, she perches herself upon this very railing."
As she narrates, Elise positions herself as described, her figure silhouetted against the backdrop of the theater. "And there, in a bold move that defies convention, she turns her private need into a public spectacle. With a flourish, she relieves herself right here, her stream cascading down like a rebellious waterfall, an act of defiance against the norms that seek to confine her spirit!"
Elise's enactment of the story, as audacious as the tale itself, leaves her friends in awe. The sight of her stream arcing out of the box and onto the seats below is both audacious and liberating, a physical embodiment of their collective spirit.
As she concludes her act, her friends respond with applause and laughter, swept up in the daring and theatricality of the moment. "And thus," Elise declares, bowing theatrically, "she remains the undisputed queen of her domain, unbound by societal expectations, a true icon of independence and audacity!"
Elise, still perched on the railing with the poise of a seasoned storyteller, continues her narrative, adding a new twist that heightens the audacity of her tale.
"Imagine, if you will," she begins, her voice tinged with a playful edge, "a distinguished gentleman in the audience, engrossed in the gripping drama unfolding on stage. He's the epitome of culture and refinement, a regular patron of the arts."
She gestures towards the empty seats below, setting the scene. "There he sits, in the best seat in the house, his eyes never wavering from the stage, utterly captivated by the performance. But then, something unexpected happens."
Her friends watch in anticipation, hanging on her every word. "A sudden sensation, a drop of something unexpected. At first, he thinks it's a mere trick of his imagination, a stray thought interrupting his focus on the play."
Elise leans forward slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But then, it happens again. Another drop, and then another. Confused, he reaches up to touch his head, only to find his hand wet."
With a dramatic flair, Elise looks upwards, mimicking the gentleman's actions. "He glances up, and lo and behold, what does he see? Above him, in the private box reserved for the elite, is our high-society lady."
Her posture shifts, embodying the brazen character of her story. "But she's not merely watching the play. Oh no! She's perched on the railing, urinating with pride and defiance, utterly unconcerned with the world below her."
Elise's friends burst into laughter, captivated by the vivid imagery of her tale. "The gentleman is aghast, frozen in shock and disbelief. There, above the hallowed theater, a member of high society is breaking every rule of decorum in the most spectacular fashion."
As Elise concludes her story, her friends applaud and cheer, thoroughly entertained by her imaginative and bold storytelling. "And so, our lady in the box rewrites the rules of the theater, leaving her mark in the most unconventional way," Elise says with a final, dramatic bow.
Part III:
Lila, standing confidently on the stage of the theater, begins her story with an air of boldness that matches the character of her tale."Picture this," she starts, her voice strong and clear. "The theater is packed, the air is electric with excitement. On this stage stands a great actress, known far and wide for her daring performances. Tonight, she is the star of a play that has captivated the entire city."
She strides across the stage, embodying the confidence of her protagonist. "As the play reaches its climax, the actress finds herself in a bind. The urge to urinate grips her, urgent and undeniable. But our heroine is not one to shy away from a challenge."
Lila pauses, looking out into the empty auditorium. "With the eyes of the audience locked on her, she makes a bold decision. Why hide? Why conform? She is a star, unbound by ordinary conventions."
Lila moves to the edge of the stage, her movements exaggerated and theatrical. "In a moment of audacious brilliance, she squats right there, at the edge of the stage. The musicians in the pit below look up in disbelief as a stream of urine cascades down from above."
Her friends gasp and giggle at the vivid imagery. Lila continues, her voice filled with the drama of the scene. "The audience gasps, shocked by the unexpected turn of events. But our actress, ever the master of her craft, maintains her poise. She transforms this bold act into a part of her performance, unapologetic and fierce."
"The musicians scramble, soaked and stunned, as the actress continues her lines. The audience, after a moment of stunned silence, erupts into applause, completely enraptured by her fearlessness. She has not only broken a taboo but turned it into a spectacle of liberation and strength."
Lila concludes her story with a triumphant smile. "And so, the actress cements her legacy, not just as a great performer, but as a symbol of boldness and unbridled freedom."
Part IV:
Zara, inspired by the theatrics of the moment, steps forward to take her turn, ready to add her own twist to the stories being woven in the once-grand theater."Let me tell you about another actress," Zara begins, her voice echoing with a dramatic tone that fills the theater. "She, too, graced this very stage, known far and wide for her daring performances and her ability to capture an audience."
Zara walks confidently to the edge of the stage, mirroring the actions of her character. "In the middle of a riveting scene, she feels the urgent call of nature. But our actress is no ordinary performer. She sees an opportunity to turn a simple act into a spectacle."
Her friends watch in anticipation as Zara lifts her dress, mimicking the actress in her story. "With the audience hanging on her every word, she boldly walks to the very edge of the stage. The crowd watches, spellbound, as she lifts her dress."
Zara continues, her voice taking on a tone of bold defiance. "And then, in a moment that would forever be etched in the annals of theater history, she does something unthinkable. She urinates, right there, from the stage onto the front row."
As she narrates, Zara enacts the scene, her stream striking a seat in the front row. The impact clears away the layer of dust, leaving the velvet soaked and marking a stark contrast against the backdrop of the forgotten theater.
"Imagine this," Zara says, drawing her friends into the scene she's about to weave. "A distinguished gentleman is seated right there," she points to the front row, "dressed in his finest attire, fully immersed in the theatrical marvel unfolding before him. The air around him is thick with anticipation and the rich scent of the theater's opulence."She steps closer to the edge of the stage, her expression mirroring that of the enraptured audience member she describes. "His eyes are fixed on the star of the show, a stunningly beautiful and talented actress. She commands the stage with grace and intensity, captivating everyone, especially our gentleman in the front row."
Zara's friends are hanging on her every word, drawn into the narrative. "As the actress approaches the edge of the stage, the man is utterly spellbound, lost in her performance. She's the very picture of elegance and allure."
With a dramatic pause, Zara continues, "But then, in a twist that no one could have anticipated, the actress begins to urinate. The stream, majestic and bold, arcs gracefully from the stage. The first few drops land on the person next to our gentleman, leaving him in stunned disbelief."
As she narrates, Zara mimics the actions of the actress, her own enactment adding a vivid layer to the story. "Quickly, she redirects her stream, and now, our well-dressed gentleman finds himself soaked as well. The shock, the surprise on his face – it's a mix of disbelief and bewilderment."
The girls laugh and cheer as Zara completes her tale and her re-enactment, thoroughly entertained by the vivid imagery and the playful audacity of the scenario. "And so, our actress not only captivates her audience but also leaves them with an unforgettable experience, literally making her mark in the most unexpected way."
Zara's story, blending humor, shock, and a daring disregard for convention, perfectly captures the essence of their adventures in the theater – a celebration of boldness, a challenge to norms, and the unbreakable bond of their friendship.
Part V:
Elise, with her natural athleticism and flair for the dramatic, captivates her friends with a story that mirrors their own daring spirit."Imagine, if you will," Elise begins, her voice resonating in the grandeur of the private box, "a time when this theater was the center of high society's universe. Picture us, four beautiful, powerful, and wealthy women, gathered in this very box, adorned in our finest gowns, jewels sparkling under the theater lights. We're engrossed in a magnificent opera, the stage alive with passion and color."
She gestures to the theater below, setting the stage for her tale. "As the night wears on, the performance, though breathtaking, stretches longer than any of us anticipated. One by one, we begin to feel the unmistakable call of nature."
Elise steps gracefully to the edge of the railing, her posture confident and poised. "Now, we are women of high status, unbound by the tedious conventions of modesty and decorum. The first among us, inspired by a mix of impatience and boldness, steps up to the railing. With a look of nonchalance, she lifts her dress and begins to urinate, right there, her stream arcing majestically out of the box."
"The audience members below, initially oblivious, soon feel the unexpected shower. They look up in shock, only to see a regal figure above them, unconcerned with the commotion she's causing. Her focus remains solely on her own comfort and convenience."
Elise's friends are captivated by the imagery, hanging on her every word. "One after another, each lady in the box follows suit. We step forward, nonchalantly lifting our gowns, and join our friend in this act of brazen defiance. Our streams join in a rebellious chorus, raining down upon the unsuspecting audience below."
Elise, further immersing her friends in her vividly painted scenario, continues her story with a sense of audacious drama that perfectly mirrors the spirit of their adventurous exploration.
"As the shocked audience members sit below, drenched and dumbfounded, their gazes turn upwards," she narrates, her voice filled with a mischievous tone. "They look in wonder at these high-society women who display such a blatant disregard for convention. To these elite ladies in the box, the audience is no more than a mere backdrop to their grandiose display of indifference."
Elise gestures grandly, as if addressing an invisible audience below. "The scene becomes even more surreal when an attendant, as composed as if this were an everyday occurrence, enters the box. He carries a stack of fine cloths, each as luxurious as the gowns the women wear."
She mimics the act of receiving and using the cloth, adding a flourish to her performance. "One by one, the women in the box accept the cloths. With an air of casual elegance, they each wipe themselves dry. Their laughter rings through the theater as they complete their act."
Elise's friends watch in amusement as she enacts the next part of her tale. "And then, with a carelessness that speaks volumes of their view of the audience below, they toss the soiled cloths out of the box. The cloths flutter down, unwanted gifts, landing haphazardly among the audience members."
"The women in the box watch with mirthful eyes as the cloths find their targets, their laughter echoing off the walls of the theater. To them, it's all part of the evening's entertainment, a display of their unshakable status and the freedom it affords them."
"The cloths, heavy with their disdain, flutter down onto the audience, a final act of disregard. The women in the box simply laugh, their amusement at the situation clear. They've turned the theater into their toilet, the audience into mere props in their display of haughty indifference."
"For the audience, the night was supposed to be about the opera, the spectacle on stage. But suddenly, it became about something else entirely."
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3 hours ago, Darkguy said:
Even better than part 1 in my opinion. Looking forward to more.
Thank you. I agree this part is better than part 1, and I hope the next parts turn out as good.
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Part 2 published. Please let me know how you all like it.
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contains female pee vandalism, male/female oral sex
Continued from Part 1After pissing in the stairwell, Katrina and I went our separate ways. I saw her in the hotel lobby after the end of the last session, and she waved at me to come over. "Eric! How are you doing? Got any plans for the evening?"
"Oh, uh, well, nothing much. I guess I was going to grab some dinner and then maybe catch up on some emails and stuff before going to bed. So, uh, not really anything, no."
She stuck her tongue out at me and laughed. "Wow! Living it up I see. Listen, some vendors are taking me out to dinner. I think you should come along too. Your company would be in the market for an AI-assisted market analysis and segmentation tool, right?" She winked.
"Oh, well, I don't know. If we were, I'm not sure I'd be the one making the decision on that. And anyway-"
She squeezed my arm and spoke quietly. "I don't want to go by myself. Come with me. We'll have some fun after, I promise."
"Oh, OK. Great. Sure, count me in. The vendors will be cool with me coming?"
"Oh yeah. They're wooing a bunch of prospective customers. Just play along and enjoy a good meal on someone else's expense account."
"Sold!"
"OK. I'm going to go change, but meet back here in 45 minutes."
I started walking to my room to get changed as well, but we both started walking in the same direction and got on the same elevator together. "I'm on the 19th floor. You?"
"17, please." I pushed the buttons for our respective floors, but before the doors could close, an older man entered the elevator too. He pressed the button for the 5th floor, and we rode up in silence.
After the interloper departed on the 5th floor, Katrina waited a moment for the elevator to begin its ascent. Without looking at or speaking to me, she pulled her skirt up over her hips and pulled the crotch of her panties aside. She spread her legs wide and her prominently protruding labia slowly parted. I felt my mouth go dry and suddenly heard and saw a pale beam of piss falling straight down onto the carpeted floor.
"What?!?" I couldn't find any other words as I watched this woman who looked like she'd walked off Mount Olympus flagrantly treat this elevator like a urinal. She just shrugged and continued pissing. Right as we reached her floor, the torrent ended. Katrina wiped her pussy with her hand, collecting the piss that had stubbornly not succumbed to gravity's pull.
She extended her index finger and pressed it to my lips. "Shh!" I could taste the sharp, savory tang of piss mixed with a sweet, earthy flavor. The rest of her hand, she wiped on my shirt, leaving an unmistakable damp patch. I had been marked and claimed. "45 minutes, yeah?" It was more a command than a question.
"Uh huh," I croaked as she walked into the hall. The elevator doors closed, leaving me alone with the piss-soaked carpet and a raging boner. What the fuck was going on? What had I gotten myself mixed up in?
I went back to my room in a daze. The whole time I was getting ready, I kept thinking I should bail. While I was showering, I decidedI should send Katrina a text, tell her I was feeling sick and would have to pass on dinner. While shaving, I decided that I would just stay in the room for the rest of the conference, order room service, and head to the airport without talking to another soul. As I put on my nice dinner clothes, I thought I should call my wife and tell her I love her. Riding the elevator down to the lobby, I looked down at the dark patch on the rug and knew that I couldn't do any of those things. I imagined what it must be like to fuck a woman so wild, so free. Maybe nothing would happen, but the only way to be sure was to be wherever she was going to be.
Katrina was was talking with a group of plain people. In this crowd, she stood out, dressed in a red silk blouse and black pencil skirt. The blouse was tailored such that her magnificent breasts threatened to spill out, but somehow stayed contained. The skirt hugged the curves of her bulbous butt and toned, athletic legs. She saw me and waved me over. "Eric! This is Jerry and Leo from Peregrine Technologies. Gentlemen, this is Eric."
After I exchanged pleasentries with Jerry and Leo, we took an Uber to a very nice steakhouse. They made shop talk, and under different circumstances, I'd probably hit it off well with them. They seemed nice enough and were enthusiastic about their company and product. But truly, I wasn't paying much attention to them. My focus was solely on Katrina. What would she do next? I felt like anything could happen with her at any time. It was exhilarating and exhausting.
Dinner and drinks was delightful. The food was delicious, the drinks were strong, and the service was top-notch. Jerry, Leo, and Katrina made engaging conversation. But as the meal was wrapping up, Katrina reached under the table and squeezed my cock in my trousers. The other people in the restaurant were oblivious.
"Gentlemen, thank you so much for a wonderful evening. I have to admit, I am dying for a smoke. Would you be offended if I stepped out for a few minutes to take care of that."
"Not at all," said Jerry.
Katrina stood up, walked a few steps and turned back. "Eric, would you care to join me?"
I am not a smoker, but she didn't have to ask me twice. We walked together outside where the air was slightly cool and crisp. Once we got past the front door of the restaurant, Katrina fished around in her purse and pulled out pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She lit one up and then kept walking toward the parking lot. I thought it was considerate of her not to smoke near the restaurant's entrance, but I should have known she had something else in mind.
"I've really got to piss too," she remarked.
"Oh, well I'm sure the restaurant has a nice bathroom. Everything else in there is pretty fancy." She rolled her eyes and scoffed.
"Yeah. Or I could have some fun. Let's see... there!" She excitedly ran over to an wxpensive-looking Audi sedan and opened the passenger door. "Ooh, it's perfect," she cooed.
"What? I'm confused. Is this your car? How'd you unlock the door?"
"No silly, it isn't mine. OK, here's the secret. When the doors on this model lock, the side mirrors fold in automatically. I saw this one sitting here with the mirrors out and I knew it would be it unlocked. Simple, really."
Moving with a grace and charm utterly at odds with what she was about to do next, she climbed in and assumed a squatting position on the car's passenger seat. The fine leather strained beneath the sharp points of her stiletto heels. Her gorgeous, swollen pussy emerged as she pulled her skirt up, revealing she wore no panties beneath it. A jet of hot piss lept from the glistening mound between her thighs, landing rudely on the car's dashboard. It had just been an exploratory stream, apparently, as it shortly ceased. "Oh, that feels good." She opened the glovebox and repositioned herself slightly, then opened the floodgates once again. The sound of piss pattering all over the contents of the glovebox and Katrina's laughter filled me ears.
My stomach churned and my heart raced. Even though I'd seen a little of this before, I couldn't understand what was happening. How does anyone, let alone a woman of otherworldly beauty and intelligence, feel empowered to treat the inside of a stranger's luxury automobile as her toilet? The edges of the owner's manual and various documents stored inside the compartment yellowed and distorted as they absorbed Katrina's hot piss. After 20 or 30 secondds, the ferocity of the stream began to dwindle before stopping. "Fuck! Yes!" she growled triumphantly, and each exclamation was followed by a short spurt of piss onto the vehicles carpeted floor. In another act of total disrespect, she stubbed her cigarette out on the driver's seat and flicked the butt into the back seat.
Reaching out, she brushed the raging hard on tenting my pants. "Oh, does that turn you on? Me too!" She pulled down the zipper and freed my cock from its cloth prison. She then placed it in her mouth and attacked it with the fury of a ravenous beast receiving a meal after days of starvation. Her mouth did things I had never felt and cannot describe. Suffice to say it was the beat blowjob I ever received, and I did not last long. I moaned with intense pleasure as I shot a massive load of hot cum into her mouth. It felt like it would never end, but finally, I was spent.
She spit my cum on the car's steering wheel before getting out, putting her clothes back in place, and shutting the door. Looking at her, she looked flawless. You'd never know what had just occurred. "OK, we better get back inside before Jerry and Leo start wondering what's up."
My head was spinning, but I managed to form a cohesive thought. "What the fuck? I can't believe you did that... don't you feel bad? You fucking trashed that car!"
She laughed. "Yeah, it was fun, wasn't it. I don't feel bad at all. It's not my car, not my mess, not my problem. If they can afford that car, they can afford to get it detailed. It'll be fine."
"Yeah, but-"
"And hey. It wasn't me that 'did that'. It's your DNA all over that car. I hope you don't have a criminal record!"
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These were pretty good results, and I'm impressed with how you refined the prompts.
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Contains male and female pee vandalism.
I am still not sure about the title, but I can change that later I suppose. It refers to events yet to come.Last year, I was sent to a conference in Dallas by my work. The conference was held in a pretty nice hotel downtown, and my work was covering all the expenses. I'd been to dozens of conferences just like this one over the years, and was kind of dreading going to another one. They were all pretty much the same, and even if I occasionally learned some new piece of information at one of the sessions, or made contacts with others in the industry, I hated being away from home and my family.
This one was different, though. On the first day, I showed up for a session and scanned the room for an empty seat. Most of the tables were full, but one of the tables near the back only had a single occupant, a tan woman with long black hair pulled into a ponytail, wearing a sharp white blouse and a tight blue pencil skirt. She had fairly large breasts and an athletic build. She looked magnificent, and I must admit, slightly intimidating in her business attire.
I approached the table and asked "Is this seat open?"
She nodded and said "Mm hmm" without looking at me. Her eyes remained locked onto her laptop screen as she scrutinized whatever it was she was working on before the session started. I sat down, pulled my laptop out of my bag, and set up shop for the next hour.
As I opened my laptop, I couldn't help but notice a friendly, sweet smell in the air. I'm not a perfume expert, but I detected notes of jasmine and honey. I also thought I could smell a faint hint of cigarette smoke. I chuckled a bit as I had smelled that combination before at nightclubs and strip joints. The woman next to me glowered at her screen stone faced, betraying no emotion or awareness of my presence.
For the next 50 minutes, I tried to pay attention to the speaker at the front of the room, but I found it difficult to focus. I kept looking out the corner of my eye at the stone cold beauty to my right. She occasionally wrote down a note or tapped out a message on her laptop, but she generally appeared disinterested in whatever the speaker was talking about. At one point, she looked at her computer screen and frowned, then started rapidly typing on her keyboard.
I looked back at my screen and then looked toward the front of the room. The speaker mentioned something about "actionable metrics displayed in real time" but I admit I had not been attention to the presentation and really didn't care about what he had to say. I looked at my watch and saw there was only about 10 minutes left in the session.
The woman continued typing furiously before exhaling sharply and rubbing her temples. I almost asked if everything was all right, but I didn't know her, and it truly wasn't my business. The session wrapped up and a sea of people streamed toward the exits. As the woman stood up to leave, I took note of her conference badge. Her name was Katrina. Such a pretty name, I thought, befitting the beauty who bore it.
Although I attended a few more sessions before lunch, I wasn't getting much from them. There was something about that woman I had seen, about Katrina, that just kept needling my brain. I couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous I was being. My company had spent thousands of dollars to buy my ticket to this conference, fly me to Dallas, and put me up in a pretty nice hotel. And all I was doing was mooning over some strange woman I happened to sit near for less than an hour. She was a beautiful woman, yes, but she was at this conference for work the same as the rest of the attendees. She didn't need me objectifying her, and besides, I'm happily married. Still, it is nice to admire and appreciate beauty in this world.
During a mid-afternoon break, the conference set up tables in the main hallway with drinks and snacks. As I reached for a bottled water from one of the tables, I felt someone reach past me. A familiar smell of jasmine tickled my nose. "Sorry, can I squeeze in here and grab one of those fruit smoothies before they're all gone?"
It was her! "Be my guest," I said as I stepped aside. She grabbed a bottled Odwalla smoothie and stepped back from the table.
"Thanks. They never stock enough of these at this conference."
"I know, right? Hi, I'm Eric, by the way."
"Hi Eric. We 'met' earlier today. Sorry if I wasn't terribly personable this morning. Shit always blows up when I'm out of the office. I'm Katrina."
"Katrina, don't worry about it. I understand completely. Sometimes I feel like my whole company would fall apart if I wasn't working there."
Just then, a tone sounded indicating sessions would be starting in 5 minutes. Katrina drank her smoothie quickly and smiled ruefully. "Sorry to cut this short, but I need to take care of some business before the next session. See you around, Eric." I tried not to stare at her shapely ass as she walked away, but I couldn't help myself.
With a few minutes before the next session, I figured I had enough time take care of some business myself. I spotted the sign for the restrooms and walked in the direction indicated by the arrow. After a longer walk than I expected, I found another sign with an arrow pointing down a long hall. Naturally, there was quite a line in front of the women's room. I continued walking, expecting to find the men's room just a bit further down the hall. Unfortunately, there was a sign taped to the door. "CLOSED. Please use Men's Room on 3rd Floor until further notice."
How the fuck was I supposed to get to the third floor and back before the sessions started? The elevators in this hotel were slow as hell. I would be late for my next session, but I really needed to piss. Maybe I could find some stairs and get up to the 3rd floor faster than going back to the main lobby and waiting for the elevator.
Sure enough, a little further down the hallway, I found a door to a stairwell. As soon as I opened it, I heard the unmistakable sound of liquid falling into a container. I poked my head in and looked around, only to see Katrina with her skirt pulled up above her hips, holding the Odwalla bottle below her pussy, which was well-groomed and topped with a wide strip of trimmed black hair.. A thick stream of golden piss flowed from between her smooth, swollen pussy lips into the bottle.
"Oh, shit!" she yelped as she looked up, startled by the interruption. Her piss stream cut off abruptly. "Oh, it's you! Looks like you caught me. What are you going to do?" She looked at me plaintively. She seemed frozen, naked from the waist down. I looked around and counted my lucky stars.
"Uh..." I wasn't sure what to say or do. "Well, uh..." Why couldn't I think? Why were the words not coming forth? "Uh, well... uh... I mean, I guess uh... this could be our secret?"
A look of immense relief washed over her face and she smiled. "I was hoping you'd say something like that." Then she started pissing again. The yellow stream had a musical quality as it fell into the opening atop the juice bottle, it's pitch ascending as the bottle filled up. Eventually, the capacity of Katrina's bladder exceeded that of the bottle, leading to rivulets of piss overflowing the bottle, washing down its walls, and flowing over the floor. I stood, utterly captivated by the sight and sound of this beautiful woman urinting rapturously in the stairwell of a four-star hotel. "Ohh... that's better," she sighed as he pulled her skirt back down.
I stood there with my mouth agape for just a moment too long. She thankfully punctuated the silence by asking "Which session are you headed to next?" The conference! That's why I was here. My brain felt swollen (and not just my brain). I could not focus at all, trying to process what I had seen, plus I still had to piss myself. "Oh, uh right. Uh, I can't remember, I'll need to look at the agenda. Honestly, I need to head up to the 3rd floor and hit the bathroom first. I hope I see you again, though."
I started to run up the stairs but she stopped me. "Wait! There's a perfectly good bathroom right here." She winked at me. "You saw me. Fair's fair."
"But, I don't have a bottle or anything to piss in."
She scoffed. "Fuck this place anyway. Serves them right for closing the bathrooms on this floor in the middle of the conference." With that, she kicked over the bottle she'd filled with her own piss, sending it spilling all over the floor. "Oops. Looks like there's a mess any way, but you could use that bottle if you want."
My god. I felt utterly intoxicated by this woman. Against my better judgment, I unzipped my trousers and pulled my erect cock through the opening. She whistled approvingly. I aimed at the wall and started peeing. She moved her hands close to my exposed, pissing penis and asked "May I?"
"Yeah," I managed to respond, although I could barely hear the question over the sound of my heart beating in my ears. She grabbed it and started moving it around, darkening the concrete walls with my piss in a random, yet artistically pleasing way. I moaned with relief as the power of my stream waned. She redirected the stream on the the tipped over juice bottle, commingling our piss into a little lake all over the floor. "Oh my god," I sputtered, trying to catch my breath.
"Let's get the fuck out of here," Katrina said while chuckling. "That was fucking awesome. I like you, Eric. I think we're gonna be good friends."
We quietly made our way back to the ballrooms where the conference was taking place. I looked over my shoulder several times to check if anyone had seen us or was following us. I was convinced that at any second, hotel security was going to detain us while the police were called, or we would be asked to leave the property. But Katrina walked confidently, unbothered aloof. She betrayed no indication that she had just redecorated the stairwell with our piss. In retrospect, if I had known what else she was capable of, what else she would do over the next several days, I would have been pretty calm too. This was, in the grand scheme of things, pretty tame by her standards.
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I've noticed an uptick in your output, Steve and have been enjoying your stories. I have a file full of half-realized ideas I wish I could find the energy to complete.
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My wife has done it and it has thus far been permanent. No side effects other than a little tenderness the day after treatment, and it takes multiple treatments to be permanent. Also, it works best on dark hair... so if you have blonde or light colored hair, it won't work as well.
(For myself, I like public hair on a woman and prefer a well-manicured bush, but I told my wife it was her body and her choice. She seems happier not having to do any upkeep down there, which I certainly understand.)
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What an fun story. I'm curious to see what happens next!
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Do only fans scan DM ?
Yes they do. Models on OF have to be very careful about what they say and do in their DMs, or their accounts will get suspended or disabled.
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Truly excellent. Thank you for sharing!
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Oh! I have some ideas...
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These are so good so far! Keep it going, please.
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Well that is a hell of an introductory statement. Welcome.
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This has my attention. I am very eager to see what happens next.
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I have had my EV for a little less than a year and haven't seen anyone peeing at a charging station yet, but I've been tempted to do it myself a few times. Here's hoping!
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What a wonderfully written account of your beach encounter. Thank you for taking the time to compose and share it here!
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10 hours ago, marking my territory said:
Hey folks,
Not sure if this is the thread for it but if there are any big literotica surfers out there then I've been looking for this story I read when I was in my teens.
Heres what I recall:
It revolved around this fantasy queen on the day of her coronation.
It was her right as royalty to pee wherever she pleased, I believe it was taboo for anyone else to urinate publicly but when she did it it was a great honor.
She was preparing to pee on an ancient tree to annoint her power
Unfortunately thats all I remember, and I may not remember it correctly but if anyone has an inkling of what sort of nonsense I'm talking about I'd really appreciate a link! The author had a couple other stories too I think.
Thanks for letting me take the piss fellow peefans! 😁
That sounds like it might be Part III of my Piss Empire series, also published here:
If it is, thank you! If not, I'd love to find the story you're thinking about since it's on a very similar wavelength to things I enjoy.
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I would love to hear and read more stories about this. When I was younger I always liked to imagine the models in the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue having to piss during their photo shoots and just going right there on the beach.
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She messaged me that she’s taking a bit of a break from making new videos but she’s still out there and may return some day.
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Fictional Experiences Thread Page 3
in Fictional Pee Stories
Posted
Terrific! And the other installments are great too.