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First Time


hpmc

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*This got a little long, hope that's all right.**

The first time Audrey peed on me it was one of those events that start seemingly as a joke and then turn into something more.

Audrey and I were friends for what seemed like forever. Certainly since we were little girls. Our families had lived next to one another since before we were born. Our fathers worked different jobs in different worlds but, despite that, our families enjoyed backyard barbecues and alternating Christmas Eve parties and babysitting duties. I watched as her house got bigger and more expensively outfitted, while our furniture got older and our car lost its gloss. Our parents said that it was always Audrey and Katie, Katie and Audrey, ever since we we could walk. I loved her like the sister I never had and she never let the economic differences in our families color her feelings for me. Not even when we went through the trials and tribulations of High School when owning the wrong phone was a heinous crime let alone driving an old car or living in a run-down house.

We had graduated high school two weeks earlier and weren’t yet ready to admit that we had to grow up and face life as adults. Her parents were away, as they seemingly always were, and we were lounging at their pool on a day when the water was cold but the sun was hot. We had splashed around the water, getting our hair wet, throwing water at one another - acting like the girls we used to be, the girls we had left behind only a short time ago.

Audrey was perched on the edge of the shallow end of the pool, her long legs dangling in the water, her skin puckered into tiny little bumps from the icy touch of the water. Her dark brown hair was pulled around her shoulders, framing her face, dripping slowly into the water as she sat hunkered over with her elbows on her knees, probably trying the get some heat back into her body. I guess even with her father’s great successes, there wasn’t enough money in the budget to heat the pool. I could feel my own nipples puckered hard against the fabric of my blue bikini top.

I swam up close to Audrey, my head just out of the water, humming the theme to “Jaws,” right in between her knees. She looked down at me and wrinkled her nose in a way that I knew drove some of the boys at school into fits of lust. I was just starting to notice for the first time how unbelievably cute it was. To me, it was just something that Audrey did when she was feeling playful, but I was starting to notice a lot of things about her: the wrinkle of her nose, the depth of her eyes, that little curve at the base of her back that ran down into the bump of her butt, and, more immediately, the fact that her breasts were very nearly spilling out of her top.

On impulse, I put my hands on her knees and gave a little kick and straightened my arms. I popped out of the water until I was eye-to-eye with her. My momentum was slowly taking my face closer to hers. The tip of her tongue came out between her lips and her teeth held it there. Another one of Audrey’s expressions that I had learned. This one came out when she was thinking something unladylike. It was the expression that she had given me when she had confessed to me that she had once masturbated with a cucumber.

Then my hand slipped and I crashed back into the water, came back up sputtering, and the moment, whatever it was, had passed. Audrey’s tongue was back in her mouth, her nose was unwrinkled, and I, without knowing why, was feeling more than a little disappointed. And very cold.

I moved back in between her knees, my head again just out of the water, wondering if I could rekindle the moment, wondering of I really wanted to, wondering, if I did, where it would go.

“I have to pee,” Audrey said.

This was one of those best-friends-since-we-were-little-girls inside-jokes that we shared. One of us would say, “I have to pee,” and the other one would say, “Go ahead,” and the first one would reply, “Right here?” and the other would say, “Sure,” followed by, “But, I’ll pee on my dress,” or, “shoes,” or, “pants,” then finished with, “Who cares?” We thought it was funny when we were nine, and we had kept it in our repertoire for nostalgia’s sake.

“Go ahead,” I said.

“Right here?” Audrey replied, and her nose wrinkled.

“Sure,” I said, and I might have made my nose wrinkle, too.

“But, I’ll pee on my best friend,” Audrey said. I was so caught up in the old routine that I almost, almost, missed the change, like the subtle variation of your favorite song when it’s performed live.

I saw that the tip of Audrey’s tongue was out, and her teeth were holding it, and her nose was wrinkled - double-whammy - and that maybe neither one of us were thinking ladylike thoughts.

“Who cares?” I said.

A new look came over Audrey’s face that took me a moment to place because it didn’t really belong there at the pool. Her eyes looked off into the distance, her face relaxed, her chin came up. I had occupied the same bathroom with her many times in the past, applying makeup or simply keeping her company. In recent times, more often than in the past. She would get that faraway, relaxed look and then I would hear the bold stream hit the water and the front of the bowl, the sound bouncing and echoing around before escaping between Audrey’s thighs in the front and through her butt crack in the back. When we were little, I never thought anything of it. In more recent times, when I watched and listened to Audrey pee, I would leave the bathroom with moist panties.

I was so engrossed watching Audrey’s face that I almost missed it. I guess some small part of me thought that she wouldn’t actually go through with it. That she would laugh and then run in to the bathroom. Leave me with hard nipples in freezing cold water but burning up in other places.

I didn’t miss it, though. I tore my gaze from her face and stared intently between her legs. Her bikini bottoms were dark blue, like mine, and dried from her sitting out so long. I could see the outline of her lips, fat and swollen, an indent between them, and a little nub where her clit poked out.

“Are you going to move?” Audrey asked. There was no rebuke in her tone, only genuine curiosity. I knew the tone, and knew her well enough to know that she was saying, “This is going to get real, here, right now, and if you’re in, I’m in, I’m all in, but this is your last chance to get out, no harm if you do, I won’t hold it against you, I’m your best friend, and I love you, but you’ve got to tell me that this is okay.”

I knew that tone well. It was the same one I had used a couple of years ago when we had fingered each other for the first and only time.

I wasn’t going to move. I wasn’t going anywhere. I looked up at Audrey and smiled and shook my head. She smiled back and wrinkled her nose and nipped at her tongue and then her face relaxed and she looked far away and I dropped my gaze to the blue fabric of her suit.

I saw the muscles in her stomach tighten just enough to tell me that she really wasn’t kidding. Then the blue of the suit was growing darker, in a widening patch right below the little knot of her clit. Audrey’s muscles clenched a little more and a little stream escaped the fabric. Not a spray, but a finger-wide waterfall of light yellow that was puddling under Audrey’s butt and pooling near her thighs.

The desire to touch her became overwhelming. I reached out and slid the tip of my finger under the edge of Audrey’s bikini, right next the widening dark blue patch. She didn’t say anything, didn’t protest, didn’t slap my hand or look down at me or jerk away. But she did stop peeing. Her muscles went slack, and the waterfall died. I looked up and saw that she still had that faraway look, the relaxed face, her chin up. I wondered if I had gone too far.

Then I understood.

She wasn’t offended.

She was waiting.

I hooked the seam of her bikini and pulled it out then over until she was completely exposed. Audrey kept a tuft of dark pubic hair to the north, but everywhere else was shaved bare. Her outer-lips were puffy and smooth, her inner-lips escaping them in beautiful folds of flesh, cascading from the hood of her clit. I made a ‘C’ with my thumb and forefinger, then turned them to make an upside-down horseshoe. I slid my thumb and finger between her lips and spread them, letting her clit nestle in between. Her skin was hot and moist and slick against my cold fingers.

Audrey sighed.

Audrey tightened.

Audrey pushed.

A beautiful golden torrent shot from her, surprising me with its force as it crashed into my neck, just below my chin. I felt it burning hot rivulets down my skin. I heard it spattering onto the pool water like a tiny, golden, rain shower. I saw the tiny dark hole between my fingers, below Audrey’s clit, from where stream came. I saw the sun catch her golden spray and set it on fire.

And, then, quite simply, then I lost my mind.

I duck my chin and stick out my tongue, just enough to catch a flicker of the stream. I turn my cheek and let it strike my face. I raise myself out of the water so that she sprays me high on my chest and I feel it thrumming against my skin. I feel it run into the valley of my breasts. With my free hand, I tear off my top, leaving a group of raised, red welts where my fingernails graze my skin. I raise up again until I can turn from one side to the other and catch Audrey’s golden fire on one taut nipple then the next, searing my skin after the cold of the pool.

I reach down and clamp my hand between my legs, clutching and clawing and squeezing my aching crotch once, then again, and again, and again until my orgasm clenches me into a tight ball while Audrey’s stream collides with my breasts, my neck, my chin, then my open lips. Her beautiful pee floods my mouth as my orgasm rocks my body.

As my spasms subside so too does Audrey’s golden stream. I can taste her like champagne on my tongue as I pant and try to collect myself. I look up at her, still perched at the edge of the pool, her bikini bottom now back in place, but the dark blue patch still there. There’s a new look on her face, one that I do not recognize, even though I have known her for so long. I start to feel lonely and sheepish and foolish.

Then Audrey is sliding into the water from her perch. She comes to me and wraps her arms around me and whispers in my ear that I am beautiful and I’m telling her the same thing, then we are thanking each other, and laughing, and saying “I love you,” like we always do and always have, but this time it means something a little different.

The first time Audrey peed on me it was one of those events that start seemingly as a joke and then turn into something more.

It was the first time, but I was sure that it wasn’t the last time.

I knew this because it was always Audrey and Katie, Katie and Audrey. I knew this because I knew Audrey as well as I knew myself. I knew this because, as Audrey and I were hugging and laughing and after we said, “I love you,” like we always do and always have, Audrey said something else to me. Something very simple and very sweet.

Audrey said two words:

“My turn.”

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