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"Ellie" What Might Have Been: An Alternative Scenario.

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"Ellie" What Might Have Been: An Alternative Scenario

By Dr.P

Summary: This is a story with its beginning in a factual, bygone reality, described in Part 1, where I made a critical decision to conceal my interest in her peeing to a girlfriend, whom I ended up dating, and having a sexual relationship with, for ten or more years, off and on. In Part 2 of this fictitious version, I make the opposite decision, in the same situation, and the scenario unfolds in a very different direction, starting with a long and intimate fictitious conversation about her peeing, and her attitudes toward it, followed by our entry into a "wet" relationship, possibly in Part 3, which I have not yet written, where I watch her pee, in addition to listening to her, and we engage in other forms of pee sex, licking, etc. The situation of Part 1, and the fictitious conversation of Part 2, may be interesting to readers who have found themselves in similar frustrating situations, in reality, as I have. I wrote a different fictitious scenario, illustrating a somewhat different approach to the same situation, with the same lady, entitled "I Thought You'd Never Ask" on October 2, 2017.

Part 1. The Reality.

Here is the story, beginning with the real situation, at the time, in the early 1970's.

"Ellie" was an attractive lady, with whom I worked, in the 1970's and '80's. She had stunningly beautiful legs, which she loved to show off, wearing the shortest of miniskirts throughout the entire decade of the 1970's, and beyond. (Like Ally McBeal on US TV in the late 1990's). She was a few years older than I, recently divorced, and reputed to be a "swinger," at the time.

She was a "Good Ol' Girl", born and raised in Texas, and seemed a little more adventurous than other women, even in that time of the "Sexual Revolution", in the US. Just for fun, during that time, she clipped her company badge to the side of her panties, and simply lifted her miniskirt to show it to the male security guy, on entering the facility in the morning. She told me she didn't care who looked up her short skirts. She really meant that, and I was always delighted to sit across from her while we talked!

Although "Ellie" was having an ongoing affair with another guy at work, we had many long and stimulating conversations. I was drawn to her, and openly pursued her for several years. We could talk, and we connected on many levels. Eventually, after I helped her manage and escape a particularly nasty political situation at work, we became very close friends and began dating occasionally, but not yet sleeping together.

Finally, I convinced her to go along with me on a short business trip, to an adjacent state. We knew we would be sleeping together on the trip, and talked about it intimately and enthusiastically. She told me to bring along some "protection", since she was off the pill. (Her steady boyfriend had had a vasectomy, while I had not, at that point.) We traveled by car for most of a Sunday, talking animatedly all the way. After checking into the motel, we showered separately and dressed for dinner, all casually and uneventfully, since we had 3 days, and there was no hurry to "jump each other's bones," as the saying went, at the time.

We were about to leave for dinner, standing together between the bathroom door and the room door, talking about the restaurant we had chosen, and how far it was from the motel. She asked me how much time it would take to get there. "About a half hour," I said. She turned to me, took my hands in hers, looked deeply into my eyes and said, "I have to "go" before we leave, OK?"

Without waiting for my answer, she slipped into the bathroom, moving the door slightly, to a half-closed position, but still open about a foot, on the knob side, with a lesser gap, on the hinge side. She left it there, as if it didn't really matter to her, since she was just following a social protocol. "Go ahead, get comfortable, we've got plenty of time to make our reservation," I replied, trying to sound as casual and relaxed as possible.

Her manner was a huge (and very welcome) surprise to me, maybe a pleasant shock would be more accurate, since we hadn't yet slept together, and she was about to pee with no real visual or sound barriers between us! I was accustomed to women nervously closing and locking bathroom doors, and even running tap water to cover their peeing sounds, in similar situations, no matter how "liberated" they pretended to be. (This was in the early to mid 1970's.)

The way she looked into my eyes and held my hands when she informed me of her need to pee, made me wonder if she was giving me some sort of invitation. I also wondered why she hadn't peed in complete privacy, without telling me, at all, during the time she had spent showering, and dressing for dinner, behind closed doors. That was my experience with most women I had dated, up to that time.

Seeing the half-open door, I was sorely tempted. I really wanted to watch her pee. But I knew that at this delicate point in the relationship, I didn't dare just walk in on her, or stand in the open doorway and watch her, where she could see me. To do so could be considered extremely rude, possibly frightening, creepy, or disgusting to her, thereby ruining what could be a great few days together. And I knew she would tell everyone at work what a sicko pervert I was, if she took it particularly badly. So I was torn between curiosity, lust, and fear. Curiosity and lust won, but I was extremely careful, knowing what I perceived to be the risks.

I moved silently to a point near the bathroom door, where I could see through the narrow open space between the hinge and the jamb, yet not be seen easily from her position, on the toilet. I had a perfect right side and partial front view of her, sitting on the toilet, short skirt gathered very high, around her waist, out of the way, panties below her knees, with her beautiful, smooth bare thighs fully exposed and separated comfortably, about 3 or 4 inches apart at her knees, and open all the way up to her slit, (which I couldn't see), totally relaxed. She had a length of toilet paper, which she folded slowly and neatly, while she peed, and draped carefully over her left thigh, ready for use, and she was looking down, at her thighs, rather than at the door. I could not see her pussy or her stream at this angle, but I could hear everything extremely well. This would have to do.

Although she sat in a very relaxed, nonchalant fashion, and her need hadn't seemed urgent when she told me she had to "go," her stream gushed and sprayed forcefully into the bowl, hissing loudly, stopping and re-starting three times, before slowing to a trickle and stopping, finally. Although I had heard gallons of female pee, growing up with a mother and three younger sisters, in a small house, with one bathroom, I had never heard anything like this. The gushing and hissing were a fantastic turn-on, and the stopping and starting were incredibly exciting, nearly driving me over the edge, as I imagined her spraying her inner thighs and bum, with a burst, each time she re-started!

I also wanted to watch her wipe, since I was confident, in my fantasy, that this spectacular audio performance would have left her thighs and buttocks quite wet, or at the very least, sprinkled with a few drops, from the hissing sprays, and repeated starts and stops. I wanted to see where that wetness and those dribbles had landed, on her body, and watch how she wiped them away, if she tried to.

But I quickly came to my senses and moved discretely away from my vantage point, realizing that if she looked up from her thighs, to the doorway, and caught me too close to the bathroom door, it would give the game away, and all could be lost. But I only moved a couple of feet away from the door, and feigned interest in my road map, while I waited for her to finish peeing and wiping, still able to hear everything going on, in the bathroom.

She emerged from the bathroom after a few minutes, still smoothing her skirt, and checking her bare legs in the full length mirror, presumably for dribbles.

Part 2. The Conversation.

"Good that you decided to go here! It sounded like you had to go pretty bad, and you could have been very uncomfortable, on our way to the restaurant. You look beautiful! You've got a nice tan on your legs, too!"

"Yeah, I had to go pretty bad, much more than I thought, and I'm glad I went! I'm much more comfortable, now, so we can get going, if you're ready. I was just checking my legs for stray dribbles. It sprayed a lot, as I'm sure you could hear, and I didn't want to leave, with wet legs!"

"Yep. I heard. Your hiss is very feminine and sexy. And your legs look dry, to me."

"You think my hiss is sexy? I'm a little surprised that a guy would think that! I would think that it would turn a guy off. And my spray can be messy, too!"

"It depends on the guy! I think peeing is the sexiest thing a woman can do! I love to hear it and see it, but I don't often get the chance!"

I pocket the room key, and we walk to my truck, together, holding hands, affectionately. I open the door for her, and she gets in. I compliment her,

"I love that skirt! It really shows off your beautiful legs."

"Thanks! Glad to hear that you like my legs, so much. I've noticed you looking at them." (Wink and smile.)

After I get in, and start the engine, she continues,

"Guess you got a better look, when you saw me in the bathroom, tonight." (Wink and wicked grin.)

"Yep. Guilty as charged. I wondered why you left the door half-open, and if you wanted me with you. I was afraid I might embarrass you, if I asked. But I was totally surprised, and delighted, and I couldn't resist! I didn't know if you left the door open, on purpose, or just forgot to close it, all the way. So I didn't dare open it, and walk in on you. You're very open and relaxed. Most women close and lock the door, and even run tap water, to cover their tinkle and hiss!"

"I'm not that uptight, when I'm with a guy that I know and trust, like you. If he's seen me naked, and we're sleeping together, why would it matter if he sees me sitting on the toilet, or hears me pee? It's just a natural thing, and I know some guys are curious about it, but some are not, and some actually claim to be turned off, but I don't believe that!

"You could have asked, or just walked in. I wouldn't have minded. If I wanted privacy, I would have closed the door all the way. I was afraid to invite you in, outright, in case it might turn you off. Some guys are like that, and they could spread stories about me. I didn't know how you felt. I'm glad you were listening to me, and think my hiss is sexy. I thought you might. It has always sounded like that. It's a natural thing for me, which I'll explain, in a minute."

"That's why I left the door only halfway open, for you, since I didn't know how you felt. You could just ignore it, if you weren't interested, or it turned you off. But you must be one of the guys who is interested and turned on, which makes me feel very comfortable, with you. As long as we've known each other, we've never talked about these things, so I had no idea."

"You have a very sexy peeing style. I love the way you sit, so relaxed, with your skirt up so high, and your lovely legs open. And I really love your hiss! I think your hiss is very feminine, and extremely sexy! I love to listen to it!"

"My pee always hisses loud like that, even when I don't have to go too bad. I had a lot of bladder infections, at one time, so I have scar tissue, which makes it hiss and spray. My gynecologist wants to do surgery on me, but I don't want it. To me, it's just a minor annoyance, one of my little secrets, for you to know about me, since we're together now."

"I have to lift my skirt up high, in the front, as you saw, because it sometimes sprays high, in the front, and would get my skirt wet, if it was in the way. If I lift it up high enough, all I have to do is wipe my legs, instead of trying to get my skirt dry."

"Ooh, I would love to see that!"

"You mean you'd like to watch me do it? I'm not surprised at that! But I guess you already saw me do it, just now, if you wanted to. That's why I left the door open for you. I don't mind if you watched me, and I'm not surprised. I expected you to."

"Yes, I watched you, but I didn't get to see everything I wanted to see. Does that scare you, or turn you off?"

"No. Not at all, and you can watch me, anytime, if you want. We know each other well enough, and I'm not shy. What did you want to see, that you didn't get to see?"

"I want to look between your legs and see how it actually comes out. And I'd like to see what parts of you get wet, and how you wipe, and help you, if you'll let me."

"OK. I'll let you see and do all of that, later, when I have to go again."

"You're a dream come true!"

We stop at a traffic light, and I reach over, pull her closer, and kiss her, then reach down and caress her bare thighs, beneath her short skirt.

We arrive at the restaurant, and have a very pleasant, much more intimate dinner, than either of us anticipated. After dinner, we walk out into the parking lot, I wrap my arms around her, hug her tight, and kiss her, then take her hand and lead her to my truck. When we get back to the room, she says,

"I have to go, now. Do you want to come with me, this time?"

"I'd love to, if you'll let me!'

"Sure. Why not?" She takes my hand, and leads me into the bathroom.

She lifts her skirt, slips her panties to below her knees, sits down, and opens her legs.

"Is this how you saw me do it before?"


I drop to my knees, in front of her, and look between her legs, with my face between her knees.

"You better back off a little, or your face will get wet. Sometimes it sprays, when I start."

"I don't care. I just want to see how it comes out."

"OK. But I warned you."



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