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Vicky: by Lesful/ Vixen3


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This thread is intended as a favour to Lesful who is also a member of PS under the username Vixen 3. There he has posted a number of true accounts about "Vicky" - actually three of his past girlfriends to whom he has assigned the same name for the sake of simplicity and to furthur protect their identities.

Because he has told me that he has lost most of his stories and has difficulty copying and pasting for some reason - not sure if for some reason he cannot access the PS search functions - I have decided to find all his posts there relating to Vicky and her naughty peeing exploits and post them here in the order in which he posted them, starting with the earliest. Hope that is ok, Lesful?

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Any story or tale that I post on this site, unless I label it fiction, will be based on a true event from my past. My handle, vixen3, refers to three women who have given me so much pleasure from their golden flow over the years. Stories about Vicky, are about a composite character made up of these women. It saves me having to make up different aliases to protect people from association with amongst other things, public puddles. There have also been a few others who knowingly or not, have given me the horn, and a good use for it, from their peeing activities.

I seem to have been very lucky in the amount of times and variety of places women have peed for me. I shall attempt to post some of them here for the benefit of other members. Strangely, after more than thirty years of looking, I have never yet seen a woman I didn't know, pissing anywhere in public. It is probably more common in towns, I live in the country, so I suppose that here, there are not only less people, but more places to hide.

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Vicky and I were both in our teens. We had been together for over a year and, being young and in love, we fucked all the time and wherever we could. I had however, developed an incredible desire to watch her pee. I had seen a couple of women sat on toilets, but never seen anything. I figured Vicky and I were close enough that she would let we watch. I had tried asking her to let me go with her to the bathroom on a few occasions, and had let her know my wish, but she had always refused.

She eventually did it when we went to a festival. We had borrowed a tent which although not large, was big enough to move around in without crawling too low. Enough room for our active sex life. We arrived late in the evening, put the tent up and Vicky went to the port-a-loo before we climbed into our sleeping bag for sex and sleep. The following evening was better. We had gone to bed and been enjoying some slow sex for about an hour when Vicky said she had to pee. The festival was still busy and not yet dark so when she said she would just go outside and pee beside the tent, I said it was unfair that if she did that, any passing stranger might see her while I, who had been begging to watch for months saw nothing from inside the tent. “So what can I do?” she said. We had two paper cups in the tent from coffee we had bought from a vendor earlier. “Pee in this” I said. “Oh, what the hell” she said and I passed her one of the cups. She squatted in front of me. It was a sort of half-light in the tent so my first viewing was not as clear as it may have been but as she started to pee and I heard the first hissing my prick became painfully hard. She filled the cup and passed it to me as I handed her the second. She was concentrating on peeing in the small cup so was not looking at me at all. I had to take my eyes away from her peeing pussy to pour the contents of the full cup out of the tent, and as I looked back, she passed me the second full cup. I in turn gave her the empty one and poured the second out onto the grass. The third cup she only half-filled. I grabbed it and just pushed it through the partly open tent flap. Turning round, I pushed Vicky onto her back and slid my prick straight into her wet cunt. I put my hands under her arse and felt drips of her pee running down and wetting my fingers. “I can feel piss all over you, god you're so wet” (or something like that, it was a long while ago) I only took a minute to cum, and after I got my breath back, I apologised for being so quick.

Vicky told me that if she had known how much her peeing turned me on, she would have done it for me sooner. I didn't have to wait long for the second time.

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Vicky and I had decided to spend the evening watching some films and drinking wine and beer. I had only moved into the house recently and much of the furniture, curtains and carpets had been left by the previous owner. As Vicky got up to pee for the fourth or fifth time, at which point I reached for the pause button, again, she commented, for the hundredth time since I had moved in, that she hated the orange rug in front of the fire. When she came back into the room, I suggested that next time she needed to pee, she should squat on the hated rug and we wouldn't have to pause the film. “I'd have to be a lot more drunk to do that” she said. Next time she went to pee, I suggested the carpet as soon as she got up, but she replied that maybe another drink and maybe next time.

After her next beer, she stood up and I said “You really don't have to leave the room you know” She looked at me a little drunkenly, lifted her skirt, and pulling down her knickers as she did so, squatted. It took her a moment to get going. Pissing on the carpet in front of the television isn't quite the standard behaviour in most living rooms. She pissed while I stared. I knew this wouldn't lead to sex, so I just looked and stored the memory. It wasn't a massive piss, but there was a cone shaped puddle on the rug. When she finished, she stood, pulled her knickers up and sat back on the sofa. “That was convenient, but I don't think I should have done it.” I told her she may as well use the rug for the rest of the evening, as now I had a reason to throw it out, she may as well make the most of it.

Vicky pissed on the rug twice more that night. After the second time she took her knickers off. The third time, was even more convenient for her. With nothing under her skirt, she just moved to the edge of the couch and pissed on to the now well soaked rug. I was able to get a good view on both occasions as the first time she squatted facing directly towards me with her knees apart, She was also showing off how far across the floor she could spray her golden jet. The final time off the edge of the sofa I was able to reach between her thighs and stroke her although being careful not to touch her stream and get pee over the soft cushions.

When we went to bed shortly after, I rolled up the rug and put it into a plastic rubbish bag. In the morning, I threw it out. but it was only one of half-a-dozen old rugs that I found in the house.

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As all Vicky stories, based on a true event.

A few weeks ago I went to my old home town with my girlfriend Vicky. One of our first stops in the morning was in a second-hand bookshop that I remembered from my youth. I also remembered the son of the people who had owned the shop in those days. He had been a school bully and I remembered him well. We were wandering around in the dusty upstairs section between rows of shelves. The shop hadn't changed much. Vicky was squatting on the floor and looking at books on the bottom shelf. “Are you pissing?” I said to her jokingly, as the way she was squatting looked just as if she were having a piss. “No” she replied, “although it would be easy enough if I did. I'm not wearing knickers and there's no-one here to notice.” Then I heard a quiet pattering sound of water hitting the floor, just briefly, but as she stood up, I could see a small puddle on the carpet. The pool of pee quickly soaked into the carpet on the floor and left a small dark patch. The carpet was none too clean, and the wet patch barely noticed. She grinned at me, “I don't really need to piss, but it was worth testing it out.” She almost always wore a skirt, and rarely anything under it, and so pissing under her skirt was no problem and she was well practised at it. Although squatting in a shop was new even to her. We didn't buy anything although Vicky had seen one book she was tempted by she decided to think it over.

We went to a pub for lunch and we each had a pint. Over lunch, I told Vicky of the bully and the bookshop and she asked if it was still in his family. I had noticed the guy in question behind the counter as we had left and told her he had probably inherited it. I figured that would have decided her not to go back and buy the book. As we were leaving the pub, Vicky said she was going to the ladies but then changed her mind and said she would wait. So we left the pub and walked up the high street. I was surprised when Vicky said to me “Lets go to the bookshop” and then a little quieter ,“I need to piss now.” So we walked a little further up the road and into the bookshop. We took a quick look around the ground floor and then went upstairs to the dusty second-hand section. As earlier there were no other shoppers on a quiet Saturday afternoon, the only other customer downstairs having left as we walked in. At the top of the stairs Vicky immediately headed for the far end of the aisle where there was a small alcove between the high shelves at the head of the stairs. Moving into the alcove, she quickly started to squat, lifting her skirt as she did so. Almost without a pause, she started to piss. I could hear it splash onto the carpet even though her stream was hidden by her skirt. She pissed as quietly as she could. Doing it slowly and keeping low and close to the carpet. Although the carpet was absorbing her piss it was not doing so as quickly as she was spraying it out of her cunt, and a small river started to run across the floor. She paused in her stream, moved slightly so that her hairy cunt was above a piece of dry carpet and started to piss again. Pissing just enough to again allow the puddle to spread, she stopped the trickle from her slit and stood up, allowing her skirt to drop down. We both looked down at the carpet. There were two distinct wet patches but the carpet was soaking up the piss and it had stopped running across the floor. Vicky grinned at me and walked around the shelf to the end of the aisle. Again she squatted and I heard her pissing. As the last time she only pissed for long enough to make a small puddle, stopping when the yellow pool started to spread across the floor. Again her piss slowly soaked into the carpet and the damp patch slowly became less visible. “Are you finished” I said. “Nowhere near” she replied, “I thought I could just let some out and hold on, but I need to do a lot more” There was only one more area that was out of direct light where the damp would be less visible so Vicky squatted once more and added another small puddle. “I need to find somewhere to finish pissing soon.” she said, “If I do it here it will go all over the floor” True, most of the floor was plain wooden floorboards and the carpeted section was already soaking up a lot of Vicky's warm piss. “or do you know of any other good shops? With thicker carpet?” she grinned again. Just finish it here and let's get out quick, I told her. I have a huge hard-on by this time but no chance of making use of it, and as I looked down at Vicky still squatting, I heard and saw a river of piss spreading over the floorboards and starting to run down the gaps between them. As soon as she gave the last squirt, we made for the stairs and then the door. “That'll teach the bastard” she said as we headed back to the car.

I'm proud of my girlfriend

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When Vicky and I were younger we treated ourselves to a night in Torquay intending to have a night in a expensive and posh hotel. We checked in and found the expensive bit, paying for our room on arrival, and went to our room. The window faced the cliff rather than the sea. There was a shower but no bath. Being a little disappointed, I went down to reception to see the manager who was not very helpful and said I had paid for the room and would have to accept it. Not happy with the result, I went back to the room, found Vicky and we went out to a pub. We had a few drinks, picked up a bottle of wine and headed back to the hotel.

As we walked into the room, we were both a little drunk by now, I went to open the wine and saw Vicky lifting her skirt. No knickers as usual, she stood in the middle of the room with her feet apart and started to piss onto the carpet. “Needed that” she said as she continued to wet the carpet until there was a small puddle on the floor. “That's not very discrete” I suggested. “Fuck it” she replied, “it costs enough to stay here, so make the most of it.” We sat on the bed and drank wine until about twenty minutes later Vicky stood up and walked over to where the kettle stood on a small table. “How about here?” she asked. “You'd expect spills near the kettle” and still standing she again pissed onto the pink carpet turning it a darker colour. By now I also needed to empty my bladder and decided to join in. I opened the wardrobe which was empty and took out my cock. “How about in here?” I asked Vicky. Without waiting for reply I too started to piss. Spraying the back of the wardrobe, which I now noticed, was leaning backwards on the uneven floor. That meant my piss ran to the back and ran down a small gap between back and floor. Vicky finished her pissing and came over to watch. “That's a first” she commented. Vicky's next piss again went on the carpet but this time she moved the bin from by the wall, stood a little unsteadily from the amount of alcohol consumed, so leaning against the wall, pissed until she was empty. This was her last piss before bed, so she made sure to empty herself completely. Making another dark patch on the carpet. She got into bed and turned off the light. I was pretty pissed by then and when I went to get up, dizziness sent me back to laying down on the bed. I lay there with the need to piss getting stronger but still too drunk to stand. Eventually I crawled off the side of the bed and squatted with my spinning head resting on my arms on the bed. I let out my piss just squatting there like a girl. It spread enough to wet my feet but I didn't care and when I had finished I climbed back into he bed. I was so drunk I didn't even wake for Vicky's midnight relief. It turned out that later she squatted just as I had done but on her side of the bed.

In the morning the damp carpet was visible but not obvious. By the time anyone noticed we were long gone. It wasn't very responsible, and we both felt a bit guilty, but it was fun at the time and I do love to watch Vicky pissing.

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Vicky and I had decided on a weekend away by the sea so we found a small town on the East coast. Arriving just as it was getting dark on the Friday evening, we weren't too fussy about where we stayed so accepted the first hotel with a vacancy. The room had a comfortable double bed and a view over the sea but the shower and toilet were, although private, just down the corridor. After the long drive we settled down in the room, opened one of the bottles of wine I had packed and began to watch a film on the TV. There was a sink in the room so, after a while when we both needed to piss I stood at the sink while Vicky squatted over a half-pint glass and pissed into it. She filled it about three-quarters full and handed it to me. I poured the warm contents down the sink and we both sat back on the bed with more wine. Vicky continued to use the glass for the rest of the evening, squatting by her side of the bed and passing me the glass when she had filled it to empty into the sink on my side of the bed. As the evening wore on, and we both drank more wine Vicky found it more difficult to aim into the glass and a few small splashes of piss went onto the carpet. I knew that when Vicky woke for her midnight piss the glass would not suffice for aperture or capacity. On Vicky's side of the bed there was a small cabinet between the bed and wall. Just as Vicky was going to sleep, I got up and moved the cabinet to near the foot of the bed, saying, “The splashes won't show there.” nodding towards the thick carpet under where the cabinet had stood.

Vicky fell asleep but I was still awake when she woke later with a full bladder. The room was almost totally dark as she sat up and got out of bed. She squatted low, resting her arm and head on the side of the bed. “Can you give me the glass.” she said sleepily. “Do you need it?” I replied. “Not really, and I can't be bothered” she mumbled and her heard a soft hissing as she started to gently piss on the carpet. She pissed slowly, probably letting out about a pint making very little noise in the quiet darkness. After she had finished she got back into bed and I put my hand on her warm damp cunt as we both fell asleep.

In the morning I moved the cabinet back in place to cover the only slightly damp carpet. Vicky's has pissed on my own bedroom floor more than once and her late night piss is always colourless and odourless, so once occasionally on a floor seems to do no major damage.

The following night Vicky again used the glass during the evening rather than go down the corridor. Again, last thing of the evening I moved the cabinet just before going to sleep. I then pissed in the sink ans as I was getting back into bed, Vicky got out. I reached over and offered her the glass. “I won't be using it later so............” she trailed off as I heard the hiss and accompanying splash as her stream hit the carpet. I leaned across to watch, last night it had been dark when she pissed but tonight the light was on and I got a good view of the spray from her hairy bush as she let it flow. It was only a quick piss and soaked in quickly. I turned off the light and we fell asleep together.

She woke again to piss later in the night. I am a light sleeper so seldom sleep through her getting up. She sat up, swung her legs over the side of the bed, slid off and squatted, again in the pitch dark. I heard the hiss and splatter again, visualising it in my mind. I grabbed my cock and wanked myself hard. Vicky finished her piss and I came just as she got back into bed. In the morning the carpet was still damp. It was a bit more piss than we would normally leave in a hotel room and something we only do very occasionally but it was a long time ago now, and still gives me the horn when I think on it.

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The phone rang and I picked it up. "Hiya" said Vicky.

"I thought you were busy this weekend" I said.

"I'm at my aunts house" she said, "and she has just gone to bed so I thought I would give you a call." We chatted for a while and I realised Vicky had not only had a few glasses of wine but was still drinking. Knowing where she was going I had put a bottle of her favourite red in the back of her car to find when she got there. It wasn't long before Vicky said, "I should have gone to the loo before I rang you, I need a piss." But she carried on talking, telling me about the journey up to Leeds. Then, "I'm gonna have to go, but I think Beth is still in the bathroom."

"Can't you find some sort of alternative?" I asked, "Where are you?"

"In the lounge" she replied.

"There's a dark carpet, piss on the floor" I suggested.

"I can't do that" she said. "Not just piss on the floor, it will show" I knew Beths lounge. Not a large room with a sofa and two armchairs and a coffee table by the window.

"Is that armchair still by the fireplace" I asked her.

"That's where I'm sitting" but I can't piss on the chair, Can I?"

"Move it aside and piss on the carpet" I said. "Why not?, move the chair back after and no-one will know" I urged her. She didn't reply, but I did hear movement as she got up. She must have put the phone down on the chair and I heard the sound of it being dragged across the carpet. Then afer a pause the hiss and splash as Vicky started to piss. She picked up the phone and I heard an "Aaah" as she wet the carpet. "Are you pissing?" I asked, knowing full well she was.

"No, of course not, aaah, that's better" as the splashing continued. I listened for about half a minute until with a final squirt, she finished. "Oops, I must have spilt something," I heard. Then again she put the phone on the chair as she slid it back. "I think maybe I should be getting to bed now, I think I've drunk enough." I agreed as I wished her good night and she hung up.

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