Beach Pee and Littering

[Alpian 687]

The “pee & littering” thread reminded me of an encounter I had a couple years ago. I always wanted to write a fictional story from it, with some actual action in it - but as I never got around to it, why not just share the brute facts...

 

I was at the beach in a place I don’t usually go, and the downtown beach was packed with people.

I couldn’t bring myself to spend all day getting a sunburn among the masses, so I left my friends for a walk along the shore. Soon I had left the small town behind and a few hundred meters on the density of people had significantly decreased. Bored, I picked up a plastic bag and started collecting rubbish. Doing a good deed a day, right?

The advantage of wandering along the beach this way: It gave me a good excuse to leave the shoreline and zig-zag along, passing close by the ladies who had chosen the relative privacy of this more remote beach to get their boobs out for a tan.

Shocking how much litter people leave behind them: Soon, I found myself walking with two bags, one large and one small that were rapidly filling. The large one served for the recyclables, mostly beer cans and water bottles whilst the smaller one was destined for cigarette butts and tissues.

With this camouflage, I made sure to check out the beach’s edges, small promontories of the low cliff, fallen trees, rocks… And surely, more often than not, there were tissues to be picked up. I was astonished of the quantity of wet wipes – don’t they realize these are often made from synthetic materials and don’t degrade easily?

Of course, this was not my true motivation. The occasional wet spot triggered my fantasy, especially if it was draped with a still moist tissue. In these cases, I secretly wondered if the perpetrator was still among the sunbathing women I had come across.

Half an hour later, I had come quite far from the town. My bags had filled rapidly and I had become selective with what I collected. Still, I walked on, like pulled by magic by the (almost) naked female bodies strewn about. The true variety of body shapes, small and large breasts, round and perky tits, dark and light areolas, soft or hard nipples… I just can’t ever get enough of it, and on the internet it’s simply not the same!

At the main beach in town, I had often had the opportunity to watch women get up and wade into the water, sometimes only just waist-deep, and then returning to their towels for some more sunbathing. It was obvious what had motivated them, and I imagined their piss all around me when I took to the sea for a short swim. I’d also liked the mothers who’d squat or sit in the sand at the shoreline, pretending to watch their kids in the shallow water when then were really emptying their full bladders in front of everyone.

Here, in the relative solitude of the “wild” beach, I got a better sighting: I was wandering between the sunbathing, barbecuing (illegal, of course…) and playing (football, beach volleyball, Frisbee…) groups of people when the behavior of a lonely woman attracted my attention. She was at a distance of maybe fifty meters, so pretty far away, when she squatted on the spot. I saw her fiddling with her swimsuit and continued to watch her, pretending to be on the lookout for rubbish (my mirroring sunglasses helped keeping the pretense). After a short minute or so, she got up and went for a swim. I’m convinced she’d just pissed right there at the beach, two steps from her towel, in plain sight for everyone. And she’d done it prior to taking a bath, where she could have done it far more stealthily in the sea.

Happy to have escaped the boredom of our group, I pondered this sighting for a while, continuing my exploration. Nevertheless, it was time to turn round and I set myself the limit of reaching one more promising spot beyond which I couldn’t see the beach due to the curve in the shoreline.

I had reached the spot and was just exploring the niche cut into the cliff by a small brook, with a willow shrub growing at the near end of the less than foot-wide rivulet before it seeped away in the sand of the beach. There were two older tissues and an even older wet wipe, but nothing else of interest on my side, so I stepped through the bush and was rewarded with two fresh stains in the sand about half a meter into the open, each assorted with a wet wipe. The spot closer to me was wide, about a foot in diameter and fizzling out towards the edges. Likely left by a lady with a spraying stream splashing from a high squat, I thought. The second spot was much smaller and had an oblong indentation in its center. It looked like it had been left by a strong jet of piss hitting the ground at an angle from not very high – she must have chosen a low squat and not held back!

Looking at this fresh evidence of two women emptying their bladders on the sand rather than dipping quickly into the sea made my pants grow tight. And I can’t hide it: The fact that they had littered this pristine nature with synthetic wet wipes stirred something in my lower belly.

Picking up my trophies, I was still reflecting whether to put them into the bag with all the other rubbish when I heard some giggling. I had been so focused on my discovery that I hadn’t noticed the couple of naked women lying no more than ten meters from this spot! Fortunately, I had not sniffed at the wipes or played with the wet sand still emanating the fragrance of fresh urine!

Nonchalantly stuffing their wipes into my waste bag, I managed to pretend no further interest than just cleaning up nature, whilst continuing my treasure hunt in their direction. They were locals, and I didn’t understand their language as they started chatting – very obviously making fun of my act and of the fact that I walked along the beach with two bags full of rubbish. One of them picked up an empty pack of crisps and provokingly threw it behind her, with her friend laughing.

I made a beeline to pick it up – being light, it had landed less than two meters behind her. What better excuse to approach two naked beauties in their early thirties than that! The one with her back turned to me had a voluptuous hourglass shaped body in a nice even tan. She was by no means chubby, but well-rounded, if I may say so. The skin of her nice full buttocks was firm and even, her above-average breasts barely hanging. They were topped with relatively large and dark nipples, as I saw when she turned her head to look at me, observing me picking up her litter.

Had she seen the tent in my pants? Maybe not, as she had turned too late. But her friend had.

She was a blonde with a more athletic build, toned body and slender legs. Smallish tits with large light-pink areolae covering cone-shaped protuberances jutting from the softer curves below. Her nipples were comparatively small, like pencil-erasers. There was not a single hair on her body and I clearly made out her wide slit, permitting a glance at her clitoral hood.

Fortunately, I didn’t understand what she said to her friend. From the look of them and the ensuing laughter, I deduced that she had told her about my obvious erection.

The brunette said something to me now (the dialog is approximate, this dates a few years back!).

“Hi!” I said and shrugged my shoulders, indicating I didn’t understand.

“Why you doing that?” she asked, now in English.

“Pollution, not good for nature.” I said, keeping my answers simple.

They laughed.

“Turns you on?” the blonde asked, pointing at my crotch.

I blushed.

“Two beautiful ladies!” I replied.

“But we polluting.” she indicated. “Don’t mind?”

Her friend said something in their local language and they laughed again.

I felt a bit stupid, but my eyes were still busy sucking in the sight, so I hesitated moving on.

“It would be better if you took your garbage home?” I ventured to say.

Again giggling.

“You can take it, ok?” the brunette mocked.

There wasn’t anything left to say, so I shrugged and continued my way. Had I intended to turn back after the small creek, I now decided to continue a bit further into the nature reserve this part of the beach was, preferring to be alone with my fantasies and playing back the last observations in my mind.

This part was more than twenty minutes’ walk from town, no road leading to it (the backlands being a protected forest), so it was almost deserted. There was the odd stroller like me, but by and large you never saw more than one or two people.

I truly felt like I was in pristine nature, enjoying the sight and sounds of it, only disrupted by the odd piece of rubbish lying around. I couldn’t pick up any more – my bags were full.

Something disturbing happened: Every time I saw some packaging, I remembered the naked brunette nonchalantly throwing her crisps packet behind her, littering to provoke me to pick it up. ‘Would she have left it on the beach when she quit?’ I was asking myself. ‘She and her friend obviously didn’t care about the biodegradability of their wet wipes despite being in a nature reserve.’ And my penis came to life.

Do you feel the same sometimes? Being in the right mood, suddenly something you normally find repulsive now turns you on?

I had never felt it as clearly as on that memorable day: Despite trying to live an ecofriendly life, sometimes it turns me on when I observe a woman littering or knowingly harming the environment. Maybe it has this impact on me BECAUSE it feels so wrong to me? I observed that I’m disgusted if it happens out of ignorance or even laziness. But if she has a hint of a bad conscience, but does it nevertheless, then I find it hot.

Well, these feelings accompanied me and having won enough distance to be invisible from the two women, I made sure to be alone and found a spot to lie hand on myself and squirt a load into the sand. I went for a swim, and, head still spinning, laid in the shadow of the forest to relax a bit.

Evening was close when I woke up – I must have slept two or three hours (I didn’t carry my phone on the beach, so all I had was the sun). Fetching my rubbish bags, I began my march home.

It was when I saw the willow shrub that the full force of recent memories came back, and my dick started throbbing again. ‘Had they left their rubbish?’ I wondered, thinking of the two littering women. ‘Did they have another wee? It’s been long enough since I left them…’

Being convinced they had long left the beach, I kept my eyes focused on the spot as I approached. What a surprise when I saw two colored spots indicating their presence! As I got near, I could distinguish their bodies, their skin color almost blending with the sand. I must have been at a couple hundred meters from them when they got up. One of them walked towards the bushes. Her fair skin and blond hair soon gave away, who. A couple meters away, she crouched and I could have sworn she was taking a piss.

‘So she is the one with the powerful gush?’ I thought, my penis frantically pumping blood. ‘Will she leave another wet wipe?’

And moments later, the most arousing – and forbidden – thought:

‘Is she doing it because she’s seen me? Does she expect me to pick up her used wipe?’

Meanwhile, her friend had picked up their towels to shake the sand from them, rolling them to bundles and began putting away the last of their gear.

I was still too far away to distinguish details when the blonde returned. I heard them laughing heartily, as they picked up their tote bags and turned to leave.

I was disappointed: Why had they to leave now, just before I got close enough to get a good look at their still naked bodies?

They walked slowly, gesturing and discussing lively. I heard their giggling and admired their high spirits. It was obvious they were having great fun. Was it wishful thinking, or where they sometimes turning their heads back in my direction?

Then I saw it: The spot they had evacuated was still colorful – litter was strewn all over the approximately three times three meters they had occupied previously. I was shocked – hadn’t we just hours before spoken about the environmental impact?

Loud laughter made me look up to them again. They had stopped and were both looking at me now, half turned towards each other and exposing their profile to my gaze. I had almost caught up to them (they had barely advanced half a dozen meters), and I couldn’t get enough of their beautiful bodies. I hoped my sunglasses wouldn’t give away my stare – and forgot about my boner stretching my shorts.

“Are you sad we left our rubbish behind?” the brunette asked.

I nodded.

“Good you came, you can pick it up!” the blonde laughed.

Already, I had gotten there and began picking up their refuse. It felt somewhat humiliating, bending down in front of them to clean up their mess, crawling on my knees from cereal bar wrapper to cigarette butt, trying to make it all fit into the brimmed plastic bags.

For a while, they just stood and stared at me in disbelief. Then the brunette handed her tote bag to her friend, took out a packet and said something to her before stepping away.

“She’s going to have a piss.” her friend let me know. “You can pick up her dirty wipe when she’s done.”

My eyes darted to the brunette. She was just a few meters from us, slightly to the left, facing us in a wide, high squat, her body bent forward. Her full breasts hanging just a little, a gushing spray of piss emerging between her legs and dousing the sand below her.

“Enjoy the show?” her friend asked.

She had seen my uninhibited stare at her friend. Embarrassing, but when would I get such an opportunity again?

Now I saw the brunette wiping – she’d pulled a wet wipe from the pack, dabbed her pussy and let it fall. Taking another wet wipe, she wiped all along her right thigh – no wonder, her fanning stream had certainly sprinkled her legs from crotch to feet. A third wipe was used on her left leg. She stood straight now, but didn’t move yet but took a forth wipe and put it at her pussy. This time, she properly wiped along her slit, feeling between her labia and removing the last traces of pee from within.

Her look was daring me as she held her wipe for a moment before slowly releasing her grip and letting it fall. It was only now that I noticed the tidy landing strip of black pubic hair covering her pubic mound. I couldn’t see if the hair continued between her legs, but it definitely covered the beginning of her slit.

I didn’t turn my eyes from her as she walked back to get her tote back from her friend. I love full front-on views of naked women! I’m still sometimes dreaming of her, the image of her straddling the wet spot of piss indelibly burnt into my brain.

“Now, come on – pick it up!” the blonde teased me.

She, too, was now fully turned towards me. As I was still kneeling in the sand before them, having picked up the last sweets wrappers and butts, my head was almost the same level as their vulvae – never before and never thereafter did I get such a great view of pussy by a total stranger.

Reluctantly, I got up (my boner once again clearly visible in my shorts – but this time, I wasn’t ashamed). Keeping my eyes on them as long as possible, I walked first to the spot the blonde had left and collected her wipe. Trying to put it into the full waste bag, I failed – it fell down again. The women laughed as they watched me struggling to keep all the other stuff in the bags whilst bending down again to pick up the reluctant wipe.

“Too full?” the blonde asked.

“Put it in your pocket!” the brunette suggested.

To be honest, that was exactly what I had wanted to do. That was why I had hesitated in the first place – I wanted them gone before taking some time with the sand freshly drenched in their pee. It would have made a nice sand-castle, I thought.

So I replied:

“Good idea, thank you!” and smiling at her, I put her friend’s wipe in my short’s right pocket.

The women laughed again.

It was obvious they had fully understood my combine and were making fun of me. Oddly, I didn’t feel too embarrassed. Maybe because they didn’t try to cover themselves or to protect themselves from my perverted endeavors?

So I went to have a look at the brunette’s piss spot and knelt before it to collect her wet wipes without spilling the contents of my rubbish bags. I regretted that they’d used wet wipes, as it was impossible to make out the pee among the scented cleaning fluid of the wipes. But I was close enough to her puddle to smell the bitter-sweet aroma of it.

They waited until I got up and accompanied them around the willow bush towards the town.

“Bye!” they said, making it clear they didn’t want to be seen with me and my dirt bags.

Still laughing, they strolled along the beach, with me staying behind and giving them the privacy they desired – watching their wiggling behinds as they gained distance.

[PeeOutside 67]

That's quite a story, thank you for taking the time to write that all down! 

[miniskirtpisser 411]

That was an amazing experience! Thank you for sharing it in such a detailed manner. 

[Meh12 112]

A very hot story. I love how women behave like this . If I may ask in what country did this happen ? 

[Alpian 687]

@PeeOutside & @miniskirtpisser, thank you for your kind words.

To be honest, it was the most personal story I've ever shared - and writing it down felt a bit creepy. I wouldn't really want to see myself as someone walking around and chasing the aftermath of ladies' pees, and here I am admitting to having done exactly that. I had even put the last four wipes of the brunette in my short's pocket to avoid "polluting" them with the other garbage in my sacs. Yet as they were wet wipes, I haven't been able to tell where her pee had soaked into it or if maybe (in my dreams 😉 ) she'd been aroused and left some of her lubrication for me. It just smelled like fresh perfume and felt like those moisturizing wet wipes everywhere...

@Meh12, glad you liked it! My real life doesn't allow me to be too precise about my whereabouts - there are people who suspect my fetish and whom I wouldn't want to identify Alpian as me. It was in Europe and it wasn't the Mediterrenean Sea 🙂