I Can't Remember, a Short Story

[Bacardi 10,136]

Based on true events that have rocked my world to an unbelievable degree. Involves holding and desperation

 

I hold my pee for him. I hold my pee because it makes him feel good, and it's starting to make me feel good too. He jerks off while I do, when I tell him I have to go so bad, and it turns me on even more. I want to say things to him in his language, things that I had been practicing all week to make him happy. I can say it in a perfect accent. I know it will impress him when I whine that he won't let me pee, but, for some reason, I can't remember how. 

"Tell me what you like."

All I have to do is say it. All I have to do is tell him. Use my English words that he can fully understand and everything will be okay, but I can't remember. The only thing I can feel is the pleasurable pain in my bladder; one that radiates throughout my body every time I move an iota. I cross my legs harder, close my eyes tighter. It feels good. It feels so good that I forget the original question I was supposed to be answering

"Tell me you have to pee in my language."

It's so easy. I had been practicing in front of the mirror almost every day. I can say such simple phrases, but tonight I can't remember. Instead I do another pee dance for him because I simply cannot think straight. He's waiting. He's holding on just for me, yet my aching bladder won't let me say anything. I'm so nervous I could probably wet myself.

"Fuck. I can't take it. Just go pee. Go pee and tell me how bad you had to pee."

So much is going on. So many photos were sent. So many messages typed out. The sound of my footsteps creaking across my floors. The sound of my washing machine in my ear. I can't remember where my bathroom is. When I find it, I can't remember where the light switch is. I fumble around in the dark. Drop my panties and make a beeline for the toilet. He sends me what I have to say and I can read it just fine, but I can't remember how to talk. The only thing I remember how to do is let myself go. I pee for him, and he pees for me.

And in that moment, I can finally remember:

Papi, devo fare pipi.

 

[Kupar 13,341]

Wow! Beautiful.