"Lisa:" Last Call for Happy Hour

[Dr.P 1,473]

"Lisa:" Last Call for Happy Hour
by Dr. P.

One of my favorite experiences with "Lisa" occurred about a year after the first time she let me watch her pee. We occasionally met for drinks at "happy hour" in one of our favorite bars, which also had a nice, relatively secluded parking lot behind it. On this evening, when we left the bar, we got into her car, a large old Cadillac, where we had room to get comfortable. We got situated in the back seat, and started kissing and fooling around.

I don't know what came over her, whether it was the alcohol reducing her inhibitions, or some strong, subconscious desire, but she looked me in the eyes and said "I have to go." I was very pleased, and moved to open the car door for her to pee, sitting on the running board, as she usually did it. She stopped me, saying, "No, I want to do it right here," and pointed at the car seat. Then she told me to lie down on the seat, with my head on the spot she had pointed out, and get ready.

I quickly understood what she wanted to do, was delighted, and got into position, as quickly as I could. It was summer, and she was wearing only panties under her dress, no stockings or pantyhose, so she slipped them off quickly. Then she lifted the front of her dress, and knelt over my face, with one thigh on each side of my head. She dropped her dress, and it blocked her view of my face and head, but it also blocked the view of anyone from outside, so she left it there, covering both of us.

She was straddling my face with her thighs, her pussy a few inches above my mouth. She had to guess where my mouth was, as she lowered herself onto my face. I knew she really had to pee, since she hadn't used the Ladies' room, in the bar. When she thought she was there, she began to pee a sweet, warm stream, in the general direction of my mouth. Due to the fullness of her bladder and the urgency of her need to pee, she had less control than usual over the direction of her stream. It gushed out at first, spraying her right thigh (which was squeezed tightly against the left side of my face) and then it flowed down her thigh in a steady stream, into my mouth. It smelled and tasted very mild and delicious. (We had both been drinking vodka and tonic.) I loved it, and greedily swallowed whatever I could get in my mouth, from her thigh. After a few seconds, when she still felt her warm pee running down her leg, she stopped, and asked me if I was getting any. I said yes, I was, and it was delicious! But since she could feel her pee stream running down her leg, she knew it wasn't going directly into my mouth, as she wanted it to. So she shifted position slightly (she liked to be very neat) and gushed a flood directly from her pussy into my mouth, which I swallowed eagerly. She continued peeing directly into my mouth, regulating the flow of her pee, by starting and stopping, after checking with me to see whether I had swallowed what she gave me, until she had given me all that she had.

When she finally finished, she lifted the front of her dress and watched me lick her wet thighs and lips, between her legs. My face, hair, and shirt collar were soaked with her delicious perfume. I loved it. Of course, I licked her thighs and pussy pretty thoroughly, and we finished by drying both of us off with Kleenex, as best we could, before parting for the evening. My knit shirt was still damp, when we said good night. I told her later that I loved her scent so much that I didn't wash that shirt until her pee smell faded from it, after several weeks!

This gave me  more ideas for us to have fun. Having her pee in my mouth was an option, when we couldn't find any other place for her to do it. That could be both fun and practical, at times, I thought.

While we worked together, we would often grab a "nooner" at her condo, which was 5 minutes from work. She sometimes got in trouble with her boss for coming back late from "lunch". We resolved to do better, and usually did, but sometimes it was very frustrating. One day, after she had been mildly admonished by her boss, we agreed to just eat lunch, and get back on time. She was wearing a stunning black dress, with real stockings, and a garter belt. Everything stayed on schedule and we would get back on time. But she said she had to "go," as she kissed me goodbye. I begged and pleaded, promising that I would only watch, then leave. But she knew better and was firm, sending me on my way. I really wanted to see her pee in that outfit! Eventually, I did, but not that day!

Less than a year after that, she found another job, but we continued seeing each other, as before. But we missed each other during the work week. One night, she gave me a very pleasant surprise, as we were getting dressed and ready to leave the hotel room. She called me into the bathroom, wearing only her bra and panties, telling me that she wanted to show me something. I walked in, and saw her standing over the toilet, straddling it, facing outward, with the seat up. She caught my eyes as soon as I walked in, looked down toward her panties, and started peeing through them, while I watched. When it started to come out, it gushed through the thin cloth, soaking them instantly, and kept on going straight through them, into the bowl, instead of running down one or both of her legs, as she had feared. (She confided that to me later.) To me, it was an incredibly erotic scene, so I walked right up to her and kissed her, as soon as she finished. Then I dropped to my knees, hugged her thighs, and buried my face in her wet panties, inhaling her fragrance.

When I finally stood up and backed off, she held onto my shoulder for balance, took her wet panties off, and handed them to me. She told me I could keep them until her scent was gone, and she would give me another pair, freshly wet, when I returned them to her. I enjoyed watching her wet her panties as much as I treasured the scented garments themselves. She varied her wetting style from week to week, standing, squatting, sitting, legs open or tight together, acting like she was trying not to wet her panties. She even did it with her legs crossed, once, although I didn't think she could, and told her so. She proved me wrong, and it was fun to see how it hissed and sprinkled, when it first came out, between her upper thighs, giving me a lot to lick, when she finished. I inhaled each of those panties deeply, then stashed them in my pocket, every week. Having souvenirs like that made me think about her a lot, during the time we had to spend apart. I think that was her plan, and it succeeded!

Dr. P.