A shopping trip (Kaymala pt 9)

[BeneathMyWillow 840]

Hi folks, here with another Kaymala story. This isn't really a series you need to read from the start, but if you want to, you can find the first episode here, or the first introductions of Layla in part 7 and Freya in part 8. This story contains nonchalent peeing and peeing in naughty places, as well as sex and nudity.

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The tram pulled up to its platform, and its passengers unloaded into the misty morning air. Across the road was the Kusti shopping mall, the largest in the country. Its glass front made a promise of the light and warmth inside. Most of the passengers hurried inside.

Layla held back, watching with interest a couple of men who had disembarked just before her. She supposed they had been crossing their legs inside the tram, not wanting the inconvenience of peeing in the crowded space. Now, as soon as they were in the open air, they turned, unzipped, and relieved themselves against the side of the tram. Apart from Layla, the disembarking crowd barely glanced at them, even as they walked through the wisps of steam rising from each man’s piss-stream.

With a pneumatic hiss, the tram doors closed and it pulled away. One of the men was still pissing -- he took a sharp step backwards as the vehicle began moving, not quite avoiding being splashed. His friend chuckled.

Layla made her way into the shopping mall, catching up with her friends just inside the doors. Almost as soon as she was inside she started sweating, and realised why nobody else was dressed for the winter weather. Kaymalan people liked to keep their buildings hot, and inside the mall it was as hot as summer.

“You can leave your coat here,” said her friend Simon, guiding Layla over to a cloakroom by the doors. She gladly handed her coat to the person behind the counter, paying a couple of kroner.

Now that she was inside, Layla looked around the mall. The whole building was circular. A gallery encircled each level, and looking out over the railing, Layla saw one floor below them and at least three floors above. Escalators carried shoppers between floors.

And despite the weather outside, everybody here was dressed for summer. Layla saw crop tops, shorts, miniskirts, and -- since it was Kaymala -- a few people of all genders casually walking around topless, and one or two who were completely naked. After months of winter in London, where everybody was bundled up in thick coats, it was a liberating feeling to see so many people dressed (or indeed undressed) so freely.

Layla’s friends too were dressed for the heat. Olivia wore a green dress that just barely covered the key areas. She had worn leggings for the journey, but slipped them into her bag as they entered the mall. Freya wore jeans and a hoodie, but now that they were inside she let the hoodie hang open, showing her boobs to the world. Simon wore shorts and a t-shirt. Layla was starting to feel over-dressed.

“Wait for me a second, would you?” asked Simon. He stepped up to the waist-high glass barrier that overlooked the floor below, undoing his flies as he did so.

Looking around, Layla saw he was far from the only person to make use of the conveniently-placed half-wall. She could see at least a dozen people peeing against it. She was intrigued to watch the people on the far side of the gallery, who were facing towards her, their piss running down the glass between them. And it was not just guys, but several women had also lifted skirts or dropped trousers to standing-pee against the glass, while many more were squatting beside it.

Layla noticed now that there was a drain running around the edge of the gallery, collecting Simon’s piss and that of everyone else relieving themselves against the barrier. It seemed to be the way Kaymalan public spaces worked -- not many bathrooms, but lots of drains in the places people were most likely to pee.

A loud moan from somewhere above cut through the hubbub. Layla looked up, and saw, up on the top floor of the mall, a woman bent over against the railing, while a man entered her from behind. She moaned again as he thrust against her.

Simon, who was just fastening his flies, looked up and chuckled. “Every time I come here there’s a couple screwing up there,” he said. “People just can’t resist it.”

The four of them rode the escalator up to the next floor. Layla stood behind her friend Olivia, and watched with interest as the girl lifted her skirt above her waist, showing her tanned behind, and pissed straight down. Her piss splattered on the steel steps of the escalator, before trickling away through the gaps between the steps and into the mechanism of the escalator. With practised timing, Olivia finished up just as they reached the top of the escalator.

At the next floor they split up. Olivia and Simon had some errands to run for the hostel, while Freya said she would take Layla around some of the clothes shops. Layla was trying not to stare at Freya’s cleavage, which was visible through her open hoodie -- and the hoodie swayed as she walked, occasionally slipping so that one tit was completely on display. Freya didn’t seem to mind when this happened, pulling the hoodie back into place with a casual shrug.

She led Layla to a store that she said was one of her favourite chains, and a smiling clerk welcomed them inside.

Layla was surprised to see two women in the very first aisle of clothes, right by the window. One was stripping off her clothes, while her friend leant against the nearby shelves and chatted to her. Once she was down to just her underwear, the girl took a dress from a rack nearby and slipped it on, admiring the look in a nearby mirror. Looking around the store, Layla could see other people in similar states of undress trying on the clothes on display. Mirrors, tables and benches seemed to have been placed around the store for such a purpose.

“Do people not use changing rooms here?” she wondered.

“What’s that?” said Freya, who had walked on ahead. Layla hurried to catch up with her.

Walking further into the store, she also noticed several patches of walls left deliberately empty. The walls there were tiled, and had drains underneath. Layla had an idea what these were for, an idea that was proved right as she watched a man who was getting trying on clothes nearby.

He had stripped off both his trousers and his underwear in order to try on a pair of swimming trunks, but before he could put them on his phone rang. As he chatted with the phone held to his ear, he took a couple of steps over towards one of those tiled patches of wall and pissed, hands free, spraying both the wall and the floor beside it. A shopping attendant who walked past paid him no mind, except for eyeing his bare backside.

Looking further along Layla saw two girls squatting by another of these patches of wall, happily chattering away with their jeans around their ankles, while two trickles of piss ran along the sloping floor to the drain.

Freya noticed what Layla was looking at and laughed. “You know, I worked in a clothes store when I was a teenager,” she said. “I grew up in a small town place, quite different to here. The manager was a stingy guy, he didn’t want to pay to put all this drainage in place. So he just put up signs all over the store, you know, ‘We are unable to provide drainage and politely ask customers to step outside the store to relieve themselves.’”

“What happened?” asked Layla.

“Oh, everyone ignored the signs. Some people just pissed on the floor like usual and maybe didn’t notice there were no drains. Other people pissed in all the hidden corners of the store, behind clothes racks, you know, sometimes even on the clothes. What else were they gonna do, step out into the cold winter air and pull their pants down? After a couple of months the manager had to give in and pay a plumber to put drains in, plus hire in an army of cleaners to get rid of the smell.”

“Did you have to tell people off for peeing in the wrong places?”

Freya laughed. “We were supposed to, but we didn’t care, did we? We were annoyed by the lack of toilets as well. We had great fun finding places we could piss without the manager noticing. We used to take turns to say, ‘I’m just going to tidy the shelves for a bit,’ which was our code to say we needed to piss. My favourite was to get my cock out and then pretend to be straightening out a clothes rack or something while I secretly pissed underneath it. Another girl found a place where there were two display tables with a few centimetres gap between them. She’d sit up on the table over the gap -- she always wore a skirt -- and she’d act like she was folding the clothes on the display table while she pissed away down the gap.”

“Your childhood was very different to mine,” said Layla. “If I’d done that sort of thing, the trouble I’d have been in … my mum wouldn’t let me get a job even, in case there were boys working there.”

“She should have been more worried about the girls,” said Freya. “I lost my virginity to that girl with the skirt, in the staff break room. The manager walked in on us, and yelled at us for taking too long on our break.”

“Did you know you were trans?”

“I knew, but it was early days, right? I was still working out what it meant to me. Well, maybe I still am working that out, who knows. Oh, hey, let me take a look down here.”

She wandered down the underwear aisle. There was one other person here: a topless woman pulling bras off the shelf one by one and holding them to her chest. Freya pulled out something lacy and held it up for Layla to see.

“What do you think?” she said. “Is the bare boobs under the hoodie a good look, or would it be sexier with the bra on?”

Layla blushed. “I don’t know. The bra’s nice, but … I guess I like the look you have already. It’s very casual.”

“Just casual, or casual yet sexy?” said Freya.

“The second one.”

Layla was blushing even harder, and Freya laughed.

“Casual yet sexy is the look I strive for,” she said. “All right, no bra. Come on, let’s find something for you.”

A shopping attendant smiled at them as she passed, and Layla couldn’t help staring. The woman was wearing an ankle-length skirt. The skirt had a split that went all the way up to the waistband, allowing it to hang open and reveal -- well, everything that was inside. As the woman walked, the skirt opened and closed, giving them flashes of the shaved pussy beneath. Layla was taken. It gave the appearance of modesty, while hiding nothing.

Freya noticed where Layla was looking. “They probably sell that here, if you’re interested?” she said.

As they walked over to the skirt section of the store, it occurred to Layla that the shop had no men’s and women’s section, unlike every London store she’d been in. Bras, knickers, boxers and y-fronts were all in the same aisle; jeans of every cut were beside each other on the shelf; and none of the clothes she looked at had explicit men’s or women’s labels on them.

They found the skirt, looked up a conversion table between British and Kaymalan clothes sizes, and then Freya suggested Layla try the skirt on. Layla hesitated.

“Are there any fitting rooms?” she asked.

“Oh yes,” said Freya. “Sorry, it didn’t occur to me.”

She led Layla to the back of the store, where there were just two fitting cubicles, with curtains over the doors and a divider that went from ankle-height to just above head height.

“Not many people around here bother,” said Freya, “but some people prefer the privacy.”

As they approached, a middle-aged man gave them a friendly nod as he disappeared into the cubicle on the right. Layla went into the left cubicle, and to her surprise -- though not displeasure -- Freya followed her.

Layla started to say something, but Freya gestured for her to be quiet and pointed at the neighbouring cubicle.

For a few seconds all was quiet, then they heard the unmistakable sound of a stream of liquid hitting a hollow wall and running down to the floor. Looking down, Layla saw rivulets of the man’s pee dripping down the gap between the dividing wall and the floor. His puddle spread out slightly into their cubicle, before following the slope of the floor towards the closest drain.

Layla waited for him to finish. After the stream petered out, they heard him cough once, then the zip of his flies, and then the curtain being undrawn as he went back out onto the shop floor.

Layla leaned over to Freya. “Why did he do that here?” she asked. “If he wasn’t trying anything on, why not pee out there like everybody else does?”

Freya shrugged. “Some people are shy about peeing in public,” she said. “And some people just like peeing in a cubicle. Like how, you know, some people prefer to pee outside in the open air, some people like to piss against a wall, some people like pissing in bed and some hate it, that sort of thing. Well, some people like to find somewhere enclosed, a changing room or an elevator or whatever. It’s hard to say why people like what they like, but here we try to cater for everybody’s tastes. Do people not pee in changing rooms in your country?”

“Some people do, I suppose,” said Layla. “But it’s illegal.”

Layla started to pull her jeans down, being careful not to stand in the wet patch that had spread into their cubicle. The fitting room had plenty of space for both Layla and Freya, but Layla still felt nervous getting naked in front of the other girl. It didn’t make sense -- only the day before Freya had had her tongue inside Layla, and Layla had peed in her face -- but Layla felt the butterflies regardless. Especially, as she pulled her knickers down, Layla felt conscious of how thick her bush was down there, compared to all the Kaymalans who seemed to trim or even shave completely.

“If I’m going to wear this, maybe I should start shaving,” Layla said.

“What, this?”

Freya reached out and stroked the triangle of hair between her legs.

“I love this,” she said. “Wear it with pride.”

Layla stepped into the skirt and pulled it up to her waist, admiring the look in the mirror. She tried standing with her legs together, with them wide, stepping one foot forwards and then the other, seeing what she could do to make the skirt fall open and what would leave it closed. It occurred to her what her mother would say if she saw her now, and Layla giggled.

“You like it?” said Freya. “It looks good. Are you going to wear it out of the store? You can just take the tag off and show it to them at the counter.”

“I like it,” said Layla. It would take some courage to wear it out in public, but hey, it was no worse than what dozens of other people in the store were wearing.

“Listen,” she said, as she stuffed her old clothes into a bag. “Do you mind if I take a leak here?”

“Well, if you do, I will as well,” said Freya, turning to face the corner of the cubicle as she spoke. Layla sank into a squat in the middle of the cubicle, lifting her skirt up off the floor. Her eyes fell on Freya’s cock, and she watched as the other girl started to piss up the wall. The cubicle was soon full of the stereo sounds of two pee streams.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Layla said.

“Always,” said Freya.

“I have actually peed in a fitting room before.”

Freya turned to look at Layla, her piss stream arcing over the wall. “Really? In London?”

Layla nodded. “A few times, actually. I knew this girl -- a housemate at uni. She was from a Muslim family, like me, only she wasn’t as strict, she didn’t wear a hijab. She had this really rebellious streak. She was the one who first got me to start drinking, and tried to get me to hook up with boys on nights out, although I was never very good at it.”

Layla stood up, wiping herself on the edge of her new skirt. Freya was just finishing up.

“We’d only known each other a few weeks and she asked me to go shopping with her,” Layla went on. “And we’d been looking around for a couple of hours. We wandered into this expensive shop, and she said to me, ‘Listen, I really need the loo, will you wait for me?’ She’d been there before so I assumed she meant that this store had a toilet. But no, she grabbed something off a shelf and disappeared towards the changing rooms. And a couple of minutes later came back looking relieved.”

Freya shook herself off and fastened her jeans. “That would be a crime in your country, then?”

Layla nodded. “I asked her about it afterwards. She just said it seemed more convenient than finding a loo. But the way she said it made me think that wasn’t really the reason.

“A few weeks later we were shopping together again. We’d just tried some things on, and then she said, ‘Could you wait for me outside, I’m just gonna go to the loo while I’m here.’ And she was, like, already undoing her jeans there in the changing room, it was obvious she wasn’t talking about finding a toilet. I stepped outside, and I could hear her peeing on the carpet. I already needed to go, anyway, and the sound was too much. So when she’d finished, I asked if she’d wait for me as well, and I went back in and did my business.”

“And how did that make you feel?” asked Freya, with a coy smile.

“Well, I felt a bit guilty about the mess,” said Layla. “But I figured that my friend had already messed it up, so I wasn’t really making anything worse. And it did make me -- you know.”

“Turned on?” Freya was grinning.

“My friend didn’t say anything about it, but she smiled at me once I’d done,” said Layla. “We went shopping together quite a few times. Every time she would say something about needing the loo and go to the changing rooms. Sometimes I did the same, not every time. One time we went into that expensive shop again and we just both grabbed something off the shelves and went into neighbouring stalls without saying anything. I peed and I could hear her peeing next to me. Then we both gave the stuff we’d grabbed to the attendant and said it didn’t fit, and we left. I never dared go back to that shop after that, in case they recognised me.”

Freya’s phone buzzed, and she glanced at it.

“Simon and Olivia are grabbing coffee,” she said. “Why don’t we pay for this skirt of yours and go join them?”

She held the curtain open for Layla to step out of the cubicle and into the store. A passing attendant smiled at them, then laughed as she saw the puddle Layla had left in the changing room floor. At the cash desks, the cashier scanned the tag that Layla had pulled off her skirt, his eyes drifting to Layla’s crotch as he did so. Layla, surprising herself, adjusted her stance so that the skirt hung open.

“Nice vagina,” said the cashier as he handed her her receipt. “I love the way you have your bush. Where do you come from?”

“From England,” said Layla.

He eyed her pussy again through the gap in her skirt. “Well, it looks like you’ll fit in well here.”

Layla smiled. She was starting to feel that she would do.

[whiskey35 306]

Good to read another Kaymala story @BeneathMyWillow. 🙂

[wetwulf 3,324]

So happy to see you returning to Kaymala @BeneathMyWillow. This was another hot chapter. I love that these stories are about so much more than peeing.

Hope to see the next chapter soon.

[Ppgirl 559]

I don't want to seem weird, but one of the main reasons why signed in here is because of Kaymala stories. Keep them coming 😍

[Lutab 1,052]

Great story as always!!

[Ms. Tito 2,396]

Reading this made me wanna start writing my Pisuaria story again. I feel dumb for going on such a long hiatus.

[Kupar 13,339]

2 hours ago, Ms. Tito said:

Reading this made me wanna start writing my Pisuaria story again.

I'd be delighted if you did!

Edited January 22, 2021 by Kupar
Got quote selection wrong

[oliver2 4,418]

Reading Kaymala stories in 2019: wow, hot, they’re pissing everywhere and having rampant sex

Reading Kaymala stories in 2021: wow, they’re flying in planes and travelling and going shopping, awesome. Story prompt: contact tracers of Kaymala (theme: voyeurism with flimsy pretext)

[Kupar 13,339]

6 minutes ago, oliver2 said:

Reading Kaymala stories in 2021: wow, they’re flying in planes and travelling and going shopping, awesome. 

Truly a fantasy!

[speedy3471 10,655]

On 1/21/2021 at 10:43 PM, Ms. Tito said:

Reading this made me wanna start writing my Pisuaria story again. I feel dumb for going on such a long hiatus.

I hope you start writing again, I for one really enjoyed reading about Pistoia. 

Don't feel dumb about the hiatus, think of it as recharging your creative batteries 

[cjm3rcl1n3 52]

HOW DID I MISS THIS CHAPTER?! 😛

[Suppee 3]

I love this series!