Popular Post gldenwetgoose 17,781 Posted December 6, 2019 Popular Post Share Posted December 6, 2019 I wasn't sure whether to post as a true account or here, but since I've changed a few details I'll consider it as fiction - hope you like it. Cast your mind back to the glorious days of the summer... and each year I have a contract to photograph a music festival in London. Mention festival and most people think of muddy fields and tents, but this couldn't be further from that. It's a tribute festival to one particular global band - I won't mention their name because I'd like to stay anonymous. Basically though, for the same week every year over 50 tribute bands and artists and several thousand fans make a pilgrimage to the festival. Most of it takes place in a huge hotel and conference venue. I must admit I'm not really into the band, but the people are great and the money's not bad. It sometimes has unexpected benefits too... Becky took my breath away from the moment I saw her - very 'girl next door' in a petite way. She had long dark hair, with a pair of sunglasses perched on top. A tightly fitted black t shirt branded by the festival organisers perfectly emphasised small but perfectly formed breasts and then she wore an ankle length loose floaty skirt with bright floral print and sandals. I saw her even before the bus pulled to a halt. It was the Saturday morning and the festival had laid on a fleet of buses to ferry guests from the hotel into the suburbs for a set of daytime gigs at a couple of pubs the band had started performing at. As I got off the bus with my heavy camera bag I spotted a couple of the organisers I knew and went over to chat through my brief for the day. They called Becky over and introduced her to me - it turned out she had a smile that could melt the coldest heart and a really nice personality to match her looks. After a few minutes of small talk I headed off up the road to start my work. Late morning I headed back past the bus stop towards the next pub, and took the opportunity to say hi to Becky. This time though she looked less comfortable - the smile had worn thin and she was pacing. "You OK there Becky" I asked. "Well I would be" she replied with half a smile, "but they've all gone off and left me to receive the buses. And I'm bursting for a wee". I tried to feign innocent concern despite the huge excitement switch in my brain that had just been flicked on. "How about I take over here for a couple of minutes? That way you can pop to the loo in the pub - don't want you being uncomfortable now." "It's ok, I can hold on a bit longer. The next bus shouldn't be long." With that I tried to make some reassuring noises, trying not to look too interested and carried on to the next part of my assignment. The afternoon passed quickly enough, but I couldn't stop day dreaming about my latest crush. After all she'd said those magic words "I'm bursting for a wee' - I love it when a girl says that so innocently. I conjured up multiple images of her finally rushing into one of the pub toilets... Once behind the safety of the ladies' toilet door would she have jammed a hand between her legs to help her tired muscles. Would she have been wearing coloured or plain panties. I couldn't decide whether she'd be yanking down boy shorts to sit on the toilet, I could imagine her in boy shorts. Or would she be ripping a thong aside to gush from a high squat. I wondered if she was a fast desperate gusher, but perhaps with her petite frame she was a long steady trickler.... Somethings I'd never know. Thinking all these thoughts though gave me a fantastic feeling tingle for most of the afternoon. Afternoon followed into evening with me photographing the main tribute show of the night on the big stage. I get a huge buzz out of that aspect, my go anywhere pass is a perk of the job but lets me on stage, backstage and into all the venues. After the show I finally grabbed something to eat whilst backing up the day's images. I knew I had a busy day ahead and should rest, but at the same time I was ready for a beer or two. After a change out of the corporate shirt I headed out of my room down to the hotel bars where live music was still playing. The biggest bar also had the better of the bands playing and I headed in. Whilst I was waiting to be served I surveyed the room, taking in the angles I'd be shooting from if I still had my camera. My heart leapt as across at the other side of the room in the shadows I spotted Becky. The sunglasses had gone and the long skirt replaced with a frayed pale denim miniskirt. As I walked over she didn't notice me until I was right next to her, then she gave a startled jump as I shouted 'Hi, thought it was you!" over the loud music. "Shit", she exclaimed "Sorry, shouldn't swear. It's just you nearly made me wet myself, creeping up like that. I was miles away" "Sorry - didn't mean to make you jump. And you haven't, have you?" Becky laughed, "No - but I should warn you I am a bit tipsy" "Nothing at all wrong with that, you'd had a busy old day. Hope the guys showed up so you could make it to the bathroom...? You were looking pretty desperate when I saw you." Becky laughed again "Don't worry, I don't mind holding on, would it sound weird if I said the longer the hold the better it feels? Sorry that's probably just me, it's a bit of a weird thing". I was very glad of the dark corner we were in, as I felt a huge bulge appearing in my pants. "So, guess it did feel good when you finally made it to the bathroom?" I asked. "Well it felt good to release, let's just leave it at that". "No, do tell" I prompted, trying to play a fine line of curious innocence and hoping that my raging excitement wasn't written all over my face. "You know I had that long skirt on, well it came in handy - about ten minutes after I'd seen you I just, like, sort of stood on the grass verge.... and you know.... well, do I have to spell it out ?" "Wow" was the first word that slipped out of my mouth. "Didn't your legs and clothes get wet? I mean... I mean I'm not judging or anything.." Becky laughed. "I can't believe I've just told you that, I must be a bit more drunk than I thought. No it was fine, I mean yes it did trickle down my legs, but soon dried. And I didn't have any pants on anyway. You're not grossed out at me are you?" Of course I wasn't. My whole weekend had just been made complete and was getting better by the second. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I mean needs must, right? And no, not grossed out in the slightest, actually a little the opposite." Becky laughed again "No shit Sherlock - that was obvious from the moment I said I needed a wee, it was written all over your face. Talking of which...." Without another word Becky grabbed my hand, turning to face me and placed my hand midway up her thigh, the bottom of her skirt tickling my wrist. Becky closed her eyes and raised her head slightly. After a couple of seconds I felt my fingers suddenly get warm, then felt the trickle of hot liquid, down Becky's thigh and over my fingers. Slowly at first and then increasing to a steady flow. That's that question answered I thought - slow and steady. All the time I wanted to run my fingertips upwards to the source of the golden stream, but thought that would be a bit to much so instead just kept my hand still. The steady flow continued for at least 30-40 seconds before dwindling back to trickles which tracked over my fingers. "So it was a bit like that really" smiled Becky. "Ooh, that feels so much better. Was that ok for you?" Licking my fingers I smiled back at Becky "Mmmm, sweet - can tell you've been drinking lager. But not complaining - that was amazing." With that we walked arm in arm back to the lifts. Fortunately there was just the two of us in the lift and as the door closed Becky whispered "Am I a naughty girl? Wetting my panties like that?" As she said that she pressed herself closely against me, our lips met and she placed my hand back on her wet thigh. This time slowly pushing it upwards until it reached warm, wet soft fabric. I could feel the fabric rippling across smooth peachy skin and my fingertips dipped into the top of her slit. Becky moved her hand away and whispered "Go on, do what you wanted to. Don't stop". We certainly didn't stop. Not until daybreak anyway.... Thanks for reading. I'll be back at the festival next summer - hope Becky is too. 3 14 Quote Link to post
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