CONFESSIONS OF A PUBLIC PIDDLER

[privatewiddle 70]

This is a fictional autobiography of a girl who enjoys peeing in public/water sports. It’s based on a girl I knew when I was younger who I’m calling Abbie and who was an habitual public urinator.  Many of the incidents I describe are based on true events.

I have always been obsessed with peeing. When I was a girl I always envied the boys who could pee anywhere when we were out playing, it seemed unfair I had to go home to use the toilet. The thought of actually squatting and peeing in public always appealed to me but I didn’t really have the nerve to do it until I met my boyfriend Steve. I was 19 and still living at home but we used to walk home to his place after a night of drinking with his mates which took about 20 minutes and by which time I was dying for a wee. Steve would often go down an alley for pee or even sometimes duck into a shop door way for a sneaky pee while I had to watch and control myself.

My outdoor peeing epiphany came one night when we’d stopped at the local chip shop for something to eat. Steve ducked outside for a pee and left me to queue for the food; coming back a few minutes later. I was dying for pee myself and decided if he could pee in public so could I.  ‘I need a wee as well, I’ll be back in a minute” I told him amazed at my daring. He didn’t comment so feeling emboldened I went outside. Having stated my intention I now discovered I had no idea where I was actually going to pee. The shop was on a busy main road but I was determined to accomplish my mission, after all Steve must have peed somewhere nearby.

Next to the takeaway was a petrol station which had a car wash behind it. There was a dimly lit alleyway leading down the side of the kiosk and around the back to the washing area. There was nowhere else to go and no one passing by seemed to be paying me any attention so I slipped down the alley. My heart was pounding because a girl sneaking behind a building on her own at this time of night could surely only be doing one thing. I expected to be challenged at any moment but nothing happened. The alley went down the side of the building but it was still in view of the street so I kept going. At the bottom it turned left and around the corner was the metal frame of the car wash with it’s large roller brushes standing idle. The car wash was brightly lit but just before you got to it there was an L shaped recess set into the side of the building which was partially in shadow.  I could see a dark streak on the brickwork and a puddle at the base so I’d found Steve’s peeing spot.

It was now or never so trying to keep calm I walked over to the far corner of the recess where the two walls met at a right angle and where there was the most shadow. I backed into the corner, slipped down my jeans and knickers and squatted awkwardly. It was then that I learned one of the first lessons for public peeing if you’re a girl. Squatting is very awkward in trousers and is best avoided where ever possible as they are stretched across your legs and it stops you from getting a good low squat with maximum stability. As I lowered by bare bottom towards the paving slabs below me I kept expecting sirens to go off or a search light to suddenly illuminate me but nothing happened. I pulled the crotch of my jeans up with one hand so they were out of the way and looked down. In my youth in the eighties pubic grooming wasn’t yet fashionable and I could see my hairy pussy hovering a few inches above the ground. I was amazed at my daring; here I was half naked in a public place, my most intimate parts bared for all the word to see and about to do something that was not only illegal but some would say disgusting and anti-social. Nevertheless I had come so far I couldn’t back out now so I tried to relax and squeeze out a little pee. After what seemed like an age I managed a little squirt which splashed gently onto the concrete beneath me.  Still no alarms or sirens so emboldened I managed a slightly longer trickle which dribbled slightly across the inside of one thigh. This is when I learned the second lesson of public peeing. It’s better to pee with a steady stream. If you’re tentative you’ll get dribbles and if you’re too forceful you get splashback so slow and steady wins the day. Deciding to go for broke I started peeing as if I was sitting on the toilet back home and I was rewarded with a musical tinkling noise of pee hitting concrete. A dark puddle started to form underneath me and spread outwards along the paving slabs and the noise of my peeing got louder as my urine was now splashing in the puddle I was making. Remarkably I found that I felt great, here I was sticking two fingers up to a society that frowned on female public urination while turning a blind eye to the antics of the males of the species. I was pissing somewhere I shouldn’t be pissing and where I could be caught at any time but what was even better I was getting away with it!

My first public piss wasn’t a complete success, the ground wasn’t even and a river of piss flowed out of the main puddle and down the pavement until it enveloped my shoe but the sight of my river of piss escaping and flowing brazenly along the slabs and out of my hiding place into plain view was exhilarating.  After peeing for about 20 seconds my bladder wasn’t quite empty but I decided I’d pushed my luck as far as it would go. I bounced up and down a few times on my haunches to shake off any dribbles of pee still clinging to my pussy flaps and stood up pulling up my jeans as I did so.

Stepping out of my hiding place I surveyed the scene of the crime with something like pride as my piss stream continued to snake along the ground shamelessly announcing to the world that I’d just casually squatted and emptied my bladder in a semi-public place without being caught. I felt exhilarated and almost disappointed there was no-one there witness my triumph.

I walked back around the corner and down the alley to the road feeling rather smug about my achievement. When I emerged onto the main road there was no one about and my crime had gone completely undetected. I felt like shouting ‘I just had a piss behind there and no-one saw me’ but that would have slightly defeated the object.  Re-joining Steve in then shop I hoped he’d quiz me on where I’d peed and how it had gone so I could recount my ingenuity and audaciousness but he didn’t say a word even when I tried to get a response by telling him I’d peed on my shoe.  Disappointed I collected our food and we went home.

That was my first public piss but it wouldn’t be my last by any means, I couldn’t wait for another opportunity to break the taboo of female public urination and after that I always found an excuse to have a pee on the way home from the pub. I started wearing short skirts or dresses to the pub so that it would be easier to squat if the opportunity presented itself. Steve sometimes went down the alley round the back of some shops on the way home if he needed to pee and so I did too. He’d pee against the nearest wall and I’d go a bit further down and squat in the doorway of some ones garage where I could enjoy watching my piss cascade down the ramp and pool in the gutter at the base.  Once someone left their empty garage door open and I went inside and squatted down by the side wall and pissed all over his floor. I found the more daring and anti-social my peeing place was the greater the thrill I got from getting away with it.

My favourite peeing place was down a side road leading to a small industrial estate not far from the garage where I’d had my first public piss. I’d tell Steve I was bursting for a pee and I’d be back in a minute and disappear down the road. There was a row offices which were all empty at that time of night. At the side of the offices and out of sight of the street was a car park which was also empty and Steve probably thought I was going to squat in a dark corner of it somewhere to do my business. He was wrong.

Before you got to the car park there was a small forecourt separated from the road by a low wall. It led to the main entrance to the offices which was set in a deep porch. There were large glass doors leading to a reception area which was always in darkness. By now I’d got much better at peeing outside so I’d casually walk across the forecourt and into the doorway having made sure there was no-one around. Safely hidden I’d slip off my underwear and stow it in my handbag which I placed against the wall out of harm’s way so it didn’t get peed on. I’ve found it’s much easier to squat if you are knickerless and if someone surprises you it’s also easier to stand up and make a quick exit if you not struggling to pull up your panties first. Safely hidden from passers-by I’d hitch up my skirt and squat down with my back to the doors, legs spread as far apart as possible for balance and enjoy the sensation of releasing the pent up pressure on my bladder. The entrance had a coarse coir mat in front of the doors emblazoned with the word WELCOME. Well it certainly was welcome to me but probably not in the way they intended! My pee stream would hit the mat and start to form a small puddle which would spread outwards until the edges started soaking into the fibre and a dark stain would expand out steadily as my pee continued to splash in the puddle which I was adding to as fast as the mat could absorb it. I liked peeing there because of the sheer cheek of it and the fact that the mat absorbed my pee well enough that I didn’t have to worry about getting my heels wet. When I finished I just stood up collected my bag and walked out as if nothing untoward had happened leaving a large damp patch on the mat slowly creeping outwards from where I’d just peed. Another good public peeing tip is to leave your knickers off and drip dry on the way home. Steve never asked where I’d been and I never volunteered that I’d just urinated over an office welcome mat in case he didn’t see the funny side of it. I often wondered if the office staff going to work on Monday realised their doormat had been peed on during the weekend. I’d only have an excuse for peeing there if we hadn’t made our usual piss stop in the alley or petrol station so it didn’t get peed on as regularly as my other peeing places; probably only once or twice a month. It did whiff a bit of stale pee once when I’d used it a bit too often but mostly it was okay. Even if they did realise their doorway was being used as a toilet I bet they’d never have guessed the culprit was female. 

[whiskey35 306]

Great set of stories @privatewiddle, can't wait for more of Abbie's piss stops.🙂

[privatewiddle 70]

CONFESSIONS OF A PUBLIC PIDDLER

BRANCHING OUT

Steve liked a quite adventurous sex life but unfortunately for me Steve’s kinks didn’t extend to pee. I experimented once by sitting on his lap when we were in the bath together and releasing some pee over his dick but he reacted like he’d been electrocuted so that was that. His ultimate fantasy was to have a threesome with me and his best friend Jonathon but Jonathan was shy with girls and had no girlfriend of his own. He was funny and always paid attention to me and I knew he probably fancied me a bit and truth to tell I liked him but nothing ever happened.

Steve worked shifts as a on the railway so a lot of the time he wasn’t around at night. My job in the hairdressers was 9 to 5.30 and so I was free most evenings. I got bored staying at home so I started going to the pub we frequented on my own. It was a lengthy bus ride from where I lived but there would always be someone I knew to talk to.

If Jonathon was there he’d would walk me to my bus stop and wait with me when it was time to go home.  I’d peed in public a few times in Jonathan’s presence as he sometimes walked some of the way home with me and Steve after a night out. He was stunned the first time I casually announced I was going for a wee and disappeared down the alley by the shops, however I kept noticing that after that he would make an excuse to go for a wee afterwards and he always went to the spot I’d just been as if he was checking out the puddle I’d left.  I wondered if he was secretly interested in pissing like I was. The route to the bus took us in the other direction to my usual peeing places and I’d never stopped for a pee on the way to the bus before. However one night I’d had a bit more to drink than usual and was feeling a bit bolder.  As we stood at the bust stop I told him “I really need a wee, where can I go?”  Jonathon looked a bit surprised and flustered. “I don’t think there’s anywhere around here you can go” he said looking about furtively. 

“Do you think anyone would mind if I went in their front garden?’ I teased.

“Yes” was his unequivocal response but I’d already spotted an opportunity. Not far from the bus stop was the entrance to a pedestrian tunnel leading under the main road. “I’m going in there” I giggled and started walking towards the steps leading down to the tunnel.

“What if someone comes?” Jonathon asked concerned. “You can come and keep watch, I’ll be perfectly safe if you’re there”  I said demurely. Without another word he followed me down the steps and into the tunnel.  Inside it was dark as the roof lights had long since been vandalised, the concrete sides were covered in graffiti and it smelled strongly as if I wasn’t the first person to have had the idea of peeing there. I made my way to the far end and stopped a few feet from the exit.

“Right, you stand outside and keep watch while I have my pee” I commanded. Obediently Jonathon took up position outside the tunnel where he could watch the stairs up to the street. I’d worn a short denim skirt that finished mid-thigh so squatting was easy after I’d removed my knickers. I had peeing outside down to a fine art now and I followed my usual procedure of putting them in my bag and setting it down a safe distance away where it wasn’t in danger of getting wet.

I crouched down by the wall in my usual wide squat with my dress hitched up around my waist and released the pressure on my bladder. The floor of the tunnel was made of ribbed rubberised non-slip tiles and as my pee stream splattered on the floor it pooled briefly before starting to run along the grooves in the rubber tiles at right angles to where I was squatting. The tunnel sloped downwards slightly so multiple rivers of pee started streaming back down the tunnel. Being somewhat more experienced now I shifted my one foot forward while keeping one hand on the wall for balance so I was at a slight angle to the river of pee flowing under me and kept my precious high heels dry. As I peed noisily on the rubber floor I looked back at Jonathon. To begin with he kept his back to me to give me some privacy but eventually he couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer and turned his head. I looked him straight in the eye and gave him a wicked smile to show I didn’t mind being watched in the slightest. As I was slightly angled towards him with my feet spread wide to avoid the river of pee running down the tunnel behind me he had a fine view of my dark bush and protruding pussy lips. He looked on transfixed as I continued to spray the floor with urine as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be pissing in a underpass  at nearly midnight with you boyfriends best friend.  I made no effort to hide myself and he didn’t look away so I continued to pee for a full 30 seconds or so. Eventually I gave myself a shake and stood up, pulling my skirt down and recovering my bag. Jonathon came over to me and we both stood and admired my handy work. The puddle had flowed down the grooves in the tiles until they had eventually overflowed and formed two thick rivers which were racing down the tunnel and had already covered half the distance. “Wow that’s impressive” Jonathan said admiringly and we both burst out laughing. “Your turn” I told him hoping he’d take the hint. To my surprise and delight he gave me a knowing smile and turned towards the wall unzipping his fly and I saw him reach for his dick. Unfortunately he now had his back to me but I wasn’t about to miss the show. I brazenly sidled up behind him and put my arm around him so I could look over his shoulder, making no attempt to hide my interest in his cock and imminent urination. 

He was initially surprised at my actions but then seemed somewhat pleased at the unexpected attention. He calmly aimed his dick at the wall and released a thick stream of piss onto the wall.  I couldn’t help noticing his cock was bigger and thicker then Steve’s.  His piss sprayed against the concrete and ran down the wall in a broad streak before starting to pool at the base.  Not for the first time I found myself envying the ease at which boys can piss in outside.  

“You lucky bugger, I wish I could pee like that, I’d love to be able to aim” I told him.

“Go on then” he encouraged nodding down at his still pissing dick. Not needing any further encouragement I reached out and took his dick in my hand and experimentally moved it from side to side spraying an arc of piss against the wall. Then I moved it up sending a fountain of pee up the wall as far as it would go before spraying it around in a zig zag pattern.  I was having great fun and was rather disappointed when the stream finally started to wane and eventually dribbled to a halt.

Reluctantly I released his dick but it didn’t escape my attention that it was now rock hard and he’d clearly enjoyed it as much as I had.  Jonathan now seemed a bit embarrassed by his erection and quickly stuffed back in his jeans. “Come on, let’s get your bus” he urged and we made our way back tom the stop, leaving my puddle and piss stream still snaking across the floor and Jonathan’s piss running down the walls. Nothing more was said until the bus came when I said goodbye and thanked Jonathan for waiting with me.  “I enjoyed peeing with you” I added cheekily as I got on board and blew him a kiss as we left.  He just smiled and waved back.

 

[privatewiddle 70]

WET FUN

After the incident in the underpass I was more convinced than ever that Jonathan was interested in pissing and that if I wanted to explore my own kink I’d have to find a way of involving him as my boyfriend definitely didn’t share my liking for water sports. Luckily Steve’s fantasy of having a three some played into my hands I let it be known that I wasn’t against the idea as long as it was with his best friend.  He was only too eager and we agreed to try and set something up.

The chance came when Steve’s parents went away for a weekend and we had the place to ourselves. After the pub we invited Jonathan to come over to watch some videos that Steve had got from someone in work.  In the eighties porn videos still weren’t widely available so the chance to see some genuine hard core action wasn’t to be missed so he readily agreed.  We’d already had quite a bit to drink by the time we got home and Steve had laid on a plentiful supply of beer in the refrigerator.

We started off with some fairly mild stuff but as the night went on we gradually got the more adventurous stuff. We were all getting increasingly turned on until at one point I unzipped Steve’s jeans and started wanking him off on the sofa.  When we got to a part where a girl stood on a car bonnet and pissed another girl who was giving a guy a blowjob underneath I reached over and started rubbing Jonathan’s crotch. He was hard already and didn’t object so I freed his dick and started wanking then off simultaneously. Steve couldn’t believe his luck and had his jeans off in an instant. I went down on him while still wanking off Jonathan then I turned and tugged down his jeans so I could suck him off as well. After that I undressed and went down on all fours so they could spit roast me with Steve shagging me from behind while I fellated his best mate.

Afterwards we curled up on the sofa and before long Steve was snoring loudly.  Taking my chance I stood up and wordlessly beckoned Jonathan to follow me as I walked out into the hallway completely nude. He padded along obediently and I led him into the dining room. 

“That was great, I really enjoyed it, you’ve got a much bigger dick than Steve.” I flattered him.

He was clearly up for more “You are absolutely stunning” he told me. “Do you want to try something a bit different?” I asked him coyly and he just nodded enthusiastically so I removed his shirt so we were both naked and told him to lie down on the floor.  I knelt down and sucked him until he was hard and then straddled him on my hands and knees with my pussy just a few inches from his erect penis. He thought I was going to ride him but I had other ideas. I bent my head down so I could see his dick poking up between my legs and tried to release a bit of pee. Luckily after all the beer it wasn’t that difficult and I managed a little dribble which trickled straight down from my pussy lips and splashed on his belly. My heart pounded in case he reacted the same way Steve had when I’d tried peeing on him in the bath but I needn’t have worried.  “You dirty girl, go for it. Do some more” he urged.  That was all the encouragement I needed and I adjusted my position slightly and released a spurt of piss that sprayed over the head of his cock. I was massively turned on now and raising myself up a bit I pissed all over his shaft and watched delightedly and my stream ran down and started pooling by his balls while his public hair got all matted and flattened around the base of his dick.  I couldn’t have stopped now if I’d wanted to, which I didn’t, and I continued to pee on him as I watched two rivers of piss flow down each side of his balls and down the inside of his legs onto the carpet. A large wet stain started to spread outwards between Jonathan’s splayed legs as my piss started soaking into Steve’s parent’s expensive cream carpet.

The outrageousness of the situation made me giggle out loud. Here I was, naked as the day I was born, on my hands and kneed in the middle of my boyfriend’s parent’s dining room pissing on his equally naked best friends cock! Not only that but I was soaking their expensive carpet with my piss.

If Steve woke up now and caught us god knows what he would have said and my brain was telling me to stop now before the damage to the carpet got any worse but the longer I kept it up and the bigger the mess got the more thrilling it was.  I continued to pee over Jonathan’s prick and balls for a good 30 seconds and finished up by shuffling down a bit so the last few seconds of my stream missed his balls and splattered directly onto the sodden carpet. Jonathan was rock hard by now so I mounted him and we bucked in silent ecstasy until we both climaxed violently.

Afterwards Jonathan said that it had been fantastic and admitted he’d always been turned on by watching me pee on the way home from the pub.  He asked how I knew he liked peeing and I explained it was because after I’d peed he always found an excuse to go and look at my puddle.

We both laughed, then got dressed and said our goodbyes. I woke Steve up and we went to bed. He was soon asleep but I stayed awake for a while and quietly masturbated to the memory of flooding his best mate’s prick and balls in hot piss. The following morning I checked the dining room carpet dreading what I might find but it had done a good job of absorbing my piss and apart from a small patch that was slightly darker than the surrounding carpet they was hardly any noticeable damage!

[PInPublic 1]

Thanks, loved these stories, especially Abbie’s first adventures in public pissing 😎

[knarf11 74]

@privatewiddle

Thank you for these great stories I hope you can write some more soon

[privatewiddle 70]

CAUGHT IN THE ACT

After my naughtiness with Jonathon I wanted to repeat the adventure as he was obviously more on my wavelength when it came to pee than Steve was.  Intent and opportunity were two different things however.  Steve’s house was off limits now his parents were back and Jonathan and I still lived at home, but where there’s a will there’s a way and fucking Jonathon and pissing on him was all I could think about and I hatched a plan.  The next time Steve was on night shift I went to the local pub on a day I knew Jonathon would be there and wasted no time in getting him drunk.

When we left the pub he offered to walk me to my bus but I pushed him into a doorway and we started making out.  I told him to follow me and he obediently did as he was told. I’d had quite a bit to drink and needed a wee but I wasn’t going to waste it by pissing in an alley as I had other plans. He was a bit bemused when I took him to where Steve lived as he knew Steve was in work but followed me without question.  I led him down the driveway past Steve’s dad’s car to the garage at the side of the house. The garage was locked but I knew from experience that the lock was faulty and a sharp tug sent the door sliding open. Steve used this trick whenever he couldn’t be bothered getting his key out.  “Quick, get inside” I told Jonathon.

“Are you sure?” he asked.  “Yes I’m sure, his parents will be in the living room at the back, they won’t have seen us.” I told him.

Once inside I closed the door, I didn’t dare put the light on but wasted no time in pushing Jonathon against the side of the car and getting his dick out so I could go down on him. I was bursting for a piss by now and experimentally tried the car door.  Steve’s car was his pride and joy; but working on the railway he had free rail travel and so he took the train to work and left the car behind. To my amazement it wasn’t locked but the interior lights came on and lit up the garage so I quickly turned them off.

I pulled off Jonathon’ s clothes and pushed him down across the front seats before getting undressed and straddling him with one knee on the passenger seat and one foot on the floor.  In the back of my mind I had the feeling this might be a mistake but I was past caring.  I supported myself with my hands on his shoulders with every nerve in my body tingling with anticipation.  “I’m going to pee on your dick” I whispered in his ear and eagerly relaxed the muscles on my bladder. In the dim light I watched my pee jet out from my pussy. I peed as forcefully as I could  directing my  powerful piss stream onto the head of his erect penis and enjoying the spray as it fanned out across my thighs, the car seat and the floor.

If Jonathon was surprised he didn’t show it and lay there patiently as I emptied my bladder over him. Shuffling backwards I directed my powerful stream onto the shaft of his penis making even more mess as urine streamed down his dick and balls onto the seat. I was rewarded with a groan of pleasure from Jonathon. “Oh God yes! You wonderful dirty bitch!”  which I took to be praise. Finally my piss stream trickled to a halt, the last couple of spurts dribbling across his balls.  We were both highly aroused by the awful thing we’d just done to Steve’s car and I mounted him and fucked energetically until we both came.

Afterwards we dried ourselves using an old Jacket of Steve’s which he kept in the car and started getting dressed. “That was out of this world, you are the sexiest, naughtiest girl I’ve ever met” Jonathon told me.

“I haven’t finished yet” I replied with a wink.  I’d kept a little bit of pee back for my coup de grace.  Wearing only a T-shirt I climbed up onto the bonnet of the car which creaked a bit in protest. Braced with by backside pressed up against the windscreen I angled my hips forwards and forced out a couple of generous squirts of piss onto the shiny paint which ran down the bonnet and dripped over the front bumper before dappling to concrete floor with spots of pee.

“You really are wicked” Jonathan laughed.

“Let’s just keep this between ourselves shall we” I giggled. “I hope Steve doesn’t realise his car’s been peed on.” I finished with a grin.

“The passenger seat is soaked, when is Steve off nights?” he asked worriedly.”

“Don’t stress, he’s working late tomorrow so he won’t use the car until the weekend. It will be dry by then.” I assured him. We finished dressing and I closed up the garage and I caught the bus home, neither of us knowing our acts would come back to haunt us.

All was well until the weekend when Steve came round to see me, he was very angry. “Someone’s been in my garage and in my car” growled.  Apparently I hadn’t closed the garage door properly and to make matters worse he’d found a come stain on the passenger seat. We’d done it in his car often enough for him to recognise the signs. I played dumb and hoped he didn’t notice me colour up.  Worse was to come.

We met Jonathon in the pub for our usual Saturday night drink and my heart sank. Although they’re considered tacky now; a love bite was a badge of honour amongst our age group in those days and in the heat of passion when I was fucking Jonathon I’d marked his neck. Although it had faded in the last 48 hours there was an unmistakable purple smudge partially visible above his collar.

As the night went on Steve became more inquisitive as to where the mark on Jonathan’s neck came from and as he didn’t have a girlfriend it wasn’t easy to explain.  Eventually I came clean, well almost!  “I gave it to him Thursday night. We were both pissed and he said he’d never had one so I did it for a laugh” I thought I sounded convincing but I think he put two and two together and realised it had been us in his car.  We left the pub early and his friendship with Jonathan soon petered out.  Much to my disappointment we hardly ever saw Jonathan again but at least Steve never found out I’d pissed in his precious car.

[Alfresco 11,610]

Great stories and I'd love to meet someone like Abbie and spend time with her!

[privatewiddle 70]

MARKING MY TERRITORY

After the Jonathan debacle things underwent a seismic change.  Steve’s grandmother lived just outside the city in council flats. This was at the time the government was encouraging people to buy their own homes and the longer you had been a council tenant the bigger discount you got in buying your council home off the government.  Steve’s Gran had been a tenant all her life and so bought her flat for the price you’d pay for a second hand car today. Then she moved in with her sister and sold the flat to us for a bargain price. She pocketed a handsome profit and we got a flat ridiculously cheaply. Everyone was a winner, except the government and the tax payer who made a huge loss on what the flat was actually worth but we won’t dwell on the morality of it!

So Steve and I were now living outside the city and well away from my old haunts, he still travelled to work free on his British Rail pass but I couldn’t afford to travel to my old job in the hairdressers and so I jacked it in. To be honest I was only the dog’s body, washing hair and sweeping up so it was no loss. I got a job in a local shop which was boring and low paid but kept me busy in the day.

There wasn’t much to do when Steve wasn’t around and not having any friends I was quickly bored.   Consequently, I inevitably turned to my favourite hobby of pissing where I shouldn’t to liven up my days.   Once a week I had to work until 8.00PM and in winter darkness had fallen by the time I left which made it easier to pee without being caught.  I always left work with a full bladder after a late shift with the intention of peeing somewhere naughty on the way home.

I passed the railway station on my travels and as it served a small community it was pretty basic and the trains were infrequent after rush hour was over   The platform had railings and so it was visible from the street behind it but there was an inviting looking brick shelter that was just asking to be peed in.  The shelter was open on one side but the doorway didn’t stretch the full width of the building leaving two narrow alcoves either side of the entrance which made perfect peeing places. Inside it was featureless with just a wooden bench along the back wall.  As long as there was no one waiting for the next train I’d put my bag on the bench out of harm’s way, pull down my jeans and squat in the corner safely hidden from view and let loose all over the floor.  It was very satisfying to see my pee puddle trickle out of my hiding place and into plain view in the middle of the shelter.  I’d got public pissing down to a fine art now and in no time I’d peed, pulled up my jeans, collected my bag and stepped smartly out onto the platform as if nothing unusual had happened leaving a river of pee meandering across the shelter behind me.

I often fantasised about passengers arriving to wait for a train and having to avoid my puddle while standing in the shelter and wondering who had just pissed there moments before they arrived. I sometimes met Steve off the train if I’d finished early and if the station was empty I’d take the opportunity to piss in my usual corner while I was waiting.  I was half hoping he’s notice the trail of pee leaking out across the floor and comment on it but he never did.  These days every inch of the station would be covered by CCTV but in the nineties the curse of the public piddler was still in it’s infancy thank goodness!

Sometimes someone missed their train and the station was occupied as they waited for the next one and so I’d have to turn and walk out as casually as possible.  This was annoying as I‘ve never had the ability or inclination to hold my pee for long!  My second peeing place was another 5 minutes away and by the time I got there I really needed to go. 

As I walked down the main road through the village I passed by a grassed embankment that sloped down to the street.  There was a stone wall at the bottom where it met the pavement and half way along there stood an old fashioned red phone box.  The pavement was too narrow for the box to stand on the pavement itself and so a narrow recess just wide enough for the box had been cut into the bank and lined with brick to accommodate it. Only the top third of the box protruded above the slope of the bank so most of the sides were covered which only left the door unguarded.  It was set back about three feet from the pavement into the notch in the bank and was shrouded in darkness as there was no light inside.  It was practically an open invitation to a passer-by with a full bladder to pop in and have a quick wee and it seemed rude not to accept. Besides, I’d always wanted to piss in a phone box.

It didn’t look too suspicious for a girl to pop into a phone box late at night but once I was safely inside all pretence of innocence disappeared.  I put my bag on the shelf that had helpfully been provided to stop a girl weeing on her possessions, turned around to face the door and had a quick look up and down the street.  Due to the fact that the box was surrounded on both sides and set back into the bank you couldn’t see in unless you were directly opposite the door so as long as no-one was walking past I was safe. With the coast clear I could surreptitiously undo my jeans and drop into a squat, at which point I was below the level of the surrounding bank and could pee in reasonable privacy. 

The door of the old red phone boxes were covered in a latticework of small glass panels which made it difficult to see the dark interior but I could see out. As I crouched there I could see the brightly lit petrol station across the road. It gave me an extra thrill to be able to see people filling up their cars at the pumps completely unaware that I was crouching in a phone box with my knickers around my knees and about to pee just a stone’s throw away from them.  My heart was always thumping by that point as I felt more exposed than I probably actually was so I lost no time in opening the flood gates and letting my pee stream onto the concrete floor.  At first I was nervous about pissing in there and peed with maximum force in case I was discovered but this caused splashback and wet the bottoms of my Jeans. Eventually I realised no one could see me and I became more relaxed, just letting my piddle cascade gently over the floor as I did everywhere else I peed. Occasionally cars would pass by and once even a cyclist slowly trundled past as I was peeing but no one ever looked into my hiding place and I remained undiscovered.

I’ve peed in a few modern phone boxes since then and although they are more difficult to pee in due to their exposed glass sides the walls don’t come down to the floor so at least they drain more easily. The red box was completely enclosed and with nowhere to go my steaming puddle was left flooding most of the floor for the next unlucky caller to find.   My evil deed complete I walked daintily out of the box as if nothing untoward had happened.  Occasionally on my way to work I’d pass the phone box and see someone inside making  a call and it made me laugh to think they were standing where I’d been pissing only the night before.

Despite the fact that I peed there at least a couple of times a month the phone box never seemed to smell of urine and apart from a barely discernible stain on the concrete floor there was no evidence that I’d been abusing it’s facilities.  I couldn’t say the same for the station shelter however as there was always a persistent odour of stale urine in there. I suspect I wasn’t the only one who went in there for furtive late night pee but I’m pretty sure my regular contributions were at least partly to blame for the lingering smell.  In any case I continued to do it regardless; a full bladder has no conscience.

[privatewiddle 70]

LOCKED IN

Although I was bored living outside the city Steve loved it, he became very friendly with the landlord of the local pub and we spent a lot of time in there when he wasn’t working. I thought the landlord was a creep and tried to avoid him but I made a new friend while I was there. Maxine was a few years older than me and very worldly.  She had been a tour rep in Tenerife for a few years before returning to the UK and taking up a job in the hospitality industry. Maxine was always smartly dressed with perfect make up and highlighted blonde hair. I never saw her wear anything else but heels. She had an earthy sense of humour and a fund of scandalous tales about her time as a tour rep which kept us entertained.  Steve was very interested in her but to my amusement she clearly detested him.

On weekends the landlord would surreptitiously invite regulars to stay on after licencing hours for a “lock in” where he’d continue to serve us illegally until the early hours of the morning.  Steve would play pool with the landlord leaving me to chat to Maxine.  So that we wouldn’t attract the notice of the police the landlord would shut up the main bar, lock the doors and we’d move into the back room with lights dimmed and curtains closed. 

The only problem about this was that the ladies toilet was quite a trek. The men’s toilet was just next to the back room but the ladies was at the far end of the main bar which was in darkness.  As Maxine and I were the only girls present it didn’t occur to the men that if we needed a pee we had to go through to the main bar and blunder our way in darkness to the far end where we had to negotiate another dark corridor to find the entranced to the toilet.  Given my habit of peeing indiscriminately whenever I felt the need and the fact that I didn’t like the landlord what followed was inevitable.  

One night Maxine and I decided to go to the toilet together.  I opened the door to the main bar and was confronted with the usual near darkness. The only light was from the street lights outside which filtered through the windows on one side as no one ever bothered drawing the curtains in this bar.  We were both a bit drunk and we weaved uncertainly down the aisle which I knew existed between the tables in the direction of the toilets only for my feet catch on something and I fell heavily onto the floor. 

“Shit! Are you alright?”  Maxine asked solicitously. Cursing I got up and felt into the darkness to see what I’d tripped over.  It turned out to be the lead to a vacuum cleaner which had been carelessly left in the aisle.   “I’m OK but my fucking bag’s burst open” I grumbled. My possessions were all over the floor and Maxine and I scrabbled around for them in the dark as I got angrier and angrier and my need to pee got more urgent.

By the time I’d retrieved my things and struggled to my feet my frustration and the need to pee led to my patience snapping.  “If the bloody landlord thinks I’m going to stumble around in the dark to pee now he’s got another think coming” I snapped.  “

 What are you going to do?” Maxine asked.

“I’m going to pee wherever I feel like it” I told her. I abandoned my bag in the middle of the floor and stepped into the gap between two tables next to the aisle. “Are you going to pee there?”  Maxine asked in a mixture of amusement and horror. I just grinned back wickedly. “Ok go on then do it” She laughed. I don’t think she really thought I would pee on the floor in the middle of the bar but she was wrong!

I was wearing a knee length leather skirt which I quickly hiked up and I crouched down between the two tables; confident I wouldn’t be disturbed. With neither the time nor inclination to remove my thong I just pulled it to one side and prepared to pee.  Steve had recently insisted I shaved my pubic hair and in the dim light I could just make out my bald pussy poised over the shabby grey carpet with a neatly trimmed vee shaped bush above it.  Tingling with anticipation I released the pressure on my bladder started peeing violently onto the carpet beneath me which was unusual as I normally peed quite gently when peeing in public to avoid splash back. This time my frustration and bad temper made me pee so forcefully my stream frothed and bubbled as it drilled into the thin carpet.  A puddle quickly formed and flowed outwards across the surface before the carpet started to absorb it and a large damp stain seeped across the floor.   Pleased with the effect my piss vandalism was having I exacted further revenge on the landlord by angling my hips back and directing my stream outwards into the middle of the carpet where I managed to direct it back and forth making a wet arc which splashed the legs of a nearby table until slowly my stream waned to a trickle. In the dim pool of light cast by the windows I could just make out the puddle slowly disappearing into the wet patch I’d made on the floor. 

Being watched by new best friend while pissing on the floor in the middle of the pub was a new thrill. “Done” I announced on completion of my evil deed enjoying the look of incredulousness on Maxine’s face.

“You are naughty though peeing all over the floor, let’s see how much mess you’ve made” she said and came over to examine the wet spot.  “Hardly anything, I’ve done worse.  One night in Tenerife when I was pissed I climbed up on a car and had a pee on it!  I‘ve done it in a plant pot in the hotel corridor as well.  I’ve never been fussy, when I need to go I just go!” Maxine said casually, which was music to my ears as that was pretty much my philosophy.

“Here have your bag back and hold mine.” Maxine instructed and to my delight she hiked up her tight fitting white midi dress and backed into the gap between the tables where I’d just peed.  Cleary this wasn’t her first rodeo as she expertly pulled her thong to one side as she squatted revealing an immaculately shaved mound with just a fine feather of dark pubic hair above her thick fleshy pink flaps.

I was shocked but also thrilled that Maxine seemed to share my liberal attitude to public urination.  “That’s my girl!” I said appreciatively. “I can see we’ve got a lot in common” I laughed.

“Fuck it, I’m as pissed off with blundering around in the dark as you are” Maxine giggled.  As she spoke a stream of urine cascaded from her pussy lips and splattered onto the soggy carpet where I’d already peed.  The puddle quickly re-established itself on the carpet and spread outwards but it didn’t absorb into the saturated material as quickly as when I’d done it and soon a puddle sat on top of the carpet and a ribbon of pee flowed outward into the middle of the aisle causing us both to giggle uncontrollably. “I’m making more of a mess than you did” Maxine sniggered.

Maxine peed unhurriedly for about 20 seconds but eventually her stream waned to a trickle and with a final squirt she was done and stood up to make herself decent. The extremities to the puddle quickly disappeared as the carpet absorbed it but the sodden part where I had already peed refused to accept any more liquid and a puddle about the size of my had print sat stubbornly on top of the pile glinting in the reflected light from the windows.

“I think we’d better make ourselves scarce, that doesn’t look too good does it?”  Maxine observed.

“Don’t worry about it, no one else is going to come in here tonight and it’ll be dry by tomorrow morning. In any case no one knows it was us, it’s our little secret.” I assured her.

OK but perhaps we’d better just use the men’s from now on?” Maxine suggested and we both burst out into hysterical laughter. Why hadn’t we done that in the first place?

“That would have been easier but not as much fun” I suggested and she didn’t disagree.  No one ever discovered we’d peed in the bar and although I was well behaved when Maxine and I peed in the men’s room together I occasionally sneaked into the bar and peed amongst the tables when I was on my own and feeling naughty.  I was right; it always dried out eventually.

[privatewiddle 70]

SHOPPING WITH MAXINE

Things weren’t going particularly well between me and my boyfriend Steve, he liked living outside the city but I missed it. I was bored when he was at work and to make matters worse he was interested in having another threesome but this time with the landlord of the pub who I didn’t like at all and who I was definitely not shagging. He’d even become judgemental about my public peeing habits. Steve had always ignored my habit of peeing in the street as like most men he wasn’t above doing it himself.  Despite that if I ducked into a doorway or an alley for a pee he’d complaining insisting it was un-lady like.  I wonder what he’d have thought about all my pee stops on my way home from work?

My oasis is this desert of unhappiness was my shopping trips to town with Maxine. On any weekend we were both free we dressed up smartly and drove into town where we shopped for clothes, make up and anything else we fancied.  We always had lunch in a café or bar accompanied with a bottle of wine before returning the multi-storey car park where Maxine left her car.  The car park was a bit run down, the lifts were covered in graffiti and the stairwells smelled strongly of piss.  Of course this was a turn on for me and I lost no time in exploiting the situation.

On one rainy Saturday we left for the city centre only to be held up in traffic due to a pop concert being held in the stadium. When we finally reached the multi storey car park we had to go all the way up to the level below the roof before we found somewhere to park.  I could have waited until we got to a shop for a pee but I decided to use the situation to my advantage

“Do you think there’s anywhere in this car park I can have a pee? I’m busting to go” I asked innocently as we walked towards the exit.

“Just about anywhere I should think.  I’d find a quiet corner and go behind a car, that’s what everyone else does in this dump.” Maxine advised nonchalantly. This was music to my ears and confirmation that Maxine wasn’t a prude when it came to public urination.  I had something more daring in mind however.

“Yeah okay but let’s go up to the next level there’ll be less people about” I reasoned and we made our way past the lifts and into the stairwell.  As we climbed the stairs the smell of stale urine got stronger and stronger confirming that this was a popular spot for illicit urination. My excitement at the prospect of making my own contribution grew with every step.

At the head of the stairs was a small landing with double doors leading onto the roof. The floor was littered with rubbish and used foil wraps where homeless people had been taking drugs.  There was a very strong smell of pee and at least one person had already emptied their bladder in the corner leaving a large wet patch running across the floor. Picking my way across the debris field I peered through the windows at the rain lashed roof.  It was empty of cars which was good as it meant no-one else had a reason to come up here.

“It’s pissing down out there, I’m not going outside for a wee” I told Maxine.

“You should have just gone in the nearest corner when we were downstairs like I said” Maxine grumbled.

“I’d pee in the nearest corner up here if it wasn’t so rank” I complained.

“Well hurry up and pee somewhere, and let’s go” Maxine urged impatiently as she was keen to go shopping.

“Wait I minute I’ve got an idea” I giggled.  I handed Maxine my bag and took a couple of steps down the stairs.  I unbuttoned my Jeans and pulled them and my knickers down my thighs so I could sit on one of the steps but with the jeans tight across my thighs this proved more difficult than anticipated. Instead I hunched forward in a high squat and carefully pulled the crotch up out of the way so my pants wouldn’t be in my line of fire while holding onto the stair rail for support.

Maxine burst out in peals of laughter when she realised the outrageous thing I was obviously intending on doing. “Oh Abbie you’re so naughty “. Maxine chided gently. “Go on then, you might as well. Everyone else seems to have had a pee here already.  Hurry up and I’ll keep a lookout” she added briskly peering down the stairwell.

Suitably encouraged I slowly released a steady trickle of pee in order to try and minimise the noise as it was falling from a greater height than usual but it still splattered on the step below with what sounded like the force of a hose pipe.  The stream spurted out over the step in front of me making a small puddle before settling into a more consistent flow which drummed onto the step directly below me.  There was quite a lot of splash back which left flecks of spray on the wall and down the steps in front.  I’d often wondered about the sort of people who pissed in car park stairwells and here I was becoming one of them. It was very satisfying and somehow I felt that I’d achieved a rite of passage for all public pissers. Everyone should piss in a stairwell at least once in their life I thought to myself!

The stairwell reverberated alarmingly to the sound urine pattering noisily on concrete but despite the excitement of my unspeakable act I refused to panic and concentrated on a slow deliberate pee, partly to avoid getting splash back on my jeans but also because of Maxine’s reassuring presence on the landing above keeping a watchful eye down the stairwell.

The puddle on the top step had now reached the edge and started to overflow onto the one below, first in one broad stream and then is a number of smaller rivulets that streaked down  until they merged with the smaller puddle I’d already made on the step below when I’d first started peeing. I watched entranced as that grew until it overflowed in a number of small streaks that ran down the face of the next step until they began to pool at the base.

Somewhere down below a door banged and Maxine said I’d better hurry up and finish in case someone came to investigate the noise. I wondered idly if the person who banged the door had heard the sound of running “water” from above and had wondered if there was a burst pipe somewhere which made me giggle.  After about 20 seconds my bladder was empty; it hadn’t been a really long pee as I hadn’t been desperate.  Straightening up, I pulled up my jeans and knickers and surveyed the aftermath of my act of vandalism. My piss had streamed down three of the steps below me until it has formed a puddle which had flowed across the step and under the railing.  As I watched it started dripping off the end of the step and into the abyss of the stairwell. From somewhere down below I heard the sound of drops of pee splashing onto concrete from a great height.

“Err, I think we’d better go” I told Maxine both thrilled and appalled at the noise of my escaping piddle echoing down the shaft.

“I think you’re right, come on then lets scarper before someone finds out what you’ve done.” Maxine urged.

We made our way down the stairs with Maxine carefully navigating the river I’d left on the steps so as not to get her heels wet. As we descended onto the floor below we were confronted a downpour of urine steadily raining down from above and splattering noisily on the steps below which were covered in large drops of piss..

“Oh fuck Abbie look! Your piss is leaking all down the stairs” Maxine squealed.

“It doesn’t matter. Nobody saw me do it and so they can’t prove a thing can they?  Anyway who’s going to suspect two respectable girls like us of peeing on the stairs?” I boasted airily as I was rather carried away with my own prowess.

“Some of us aren’t quite as respectable as others” Maxine said pointedly. “You’ve no shame at all” she added with what I thought was a note of admiration in her voice. “Let’s see if I can get to the  lift without getting a golden shower on my way down!” She added while gingerly skirting the trickle of pee falling from above and trying not to get caught by the spray as it splattered on the steps.

She was right; I didn’t feel any shame about pissing on the stairs or having my pee rain down on the unfortunates below. I’d loved every minute of it and it made me horny as hell. The prospect of Maxine being on the receiving end of a golden shower was one that stayed with me for the rest of the day.