"Lisa's" Story Part 2: Adventures with "Dr. P."

[Dr.P 1,473]

"Lisa's" Story Part 2: Adventures with "Dr.P"

by Dr. P.

On a particularly beautiful moonlit evening in the fall, we decided to visit one of our favorite bar/restaurant establishments. It had a bit of a reputation as a "meat market", in the late '70's, but we liked it because the music was pleasant, the drinks were not as watered as those of the competition, and there was a small, but adequate dance floor, if the mood struck us. The crowd was about our age at the time, 30's and 40's, so the music was not too loud and irritating. You could actually carry on a conversation.

I was wearing a close-fitting knit sheath dress, which was kind of "clingy." It ended a few inches above my knees. Under this, I was wearing "Thi-Hi" stockings, with elastic tops, no garters (or "suspenders"), and shiny black heels with ankle straps. I knew I looked good, as the dress rode up to mid thigh, when I sat down. We had 2 or 3 drinks, and ordered another round, talking and laughing intimately, when I told him I had to "go". With a wink and a grin, he said, "Well, you know where the Ladies' Room is. Come back and tell me a good story!"

I said I had another idea. I wanted him to go with me, and I did not want to use the Ladies' room! "Let's go outside," I said.

We walked outside together. It was a pleasant, warm night in late Fall, in L.A. The full moon had just risen, casting a surprisingly bright glow over everything. We looked in the parking lot. No way. Too small and well lit by the moon. Too many cars and people going in and out. Then we looked across the street, seeing trees and bushes, and remembered that the street was at the western edge of a large park. We crossed the street at the light and continued on the dry grass, to the east of a large grove of trees, which would shield us from view from the street. Further to the east of these trees, the grass and trees of the park stretched for as much as a half mile. It was predictably deserted at this time of the evening.

We chose a spot between two cusps in the line of bushes and trees, which faced east, toward the rising moon, and was somewhat protected on the other three sides. I stood, smiling and facing the moon, and slowly raised the hem of my dress, looking alternately at him and at myself. I slipped my panties down, and leaning on him for balance, took them off and put them in my purse. Then I adjusted the hem of my dress until it was just an inch or two above my pussy, and spread my legs comfortably, until my feet were about shoulder width apart. I held my dress up, but it stayed pretty much in place, because it clung to my body. I smiled at him and said "Ready?" He dropped to his knees about 2 feet in front of me, to get the best view possible, as I started to pee. He watched me intently in the moonlight.

I was able to keep my stream straight and under control, landing about 6 inches in front of my feet, in the grass. I peed for a long time, possibly for 20 or 30 seconds, until my stream weakened to a trickle and stopped. At the end, a few drops sprinkled my shiny shoes, but my legs and stockings were completely dry. I noticed the dribbles on my shoes, and giggled, a little. He leaned forward, still in his kneeling position, hugging my thighs to his face, pulling me toward him, so he could lick my pussy dry. Just then, I squirted a few final drops, and he caught them in his mouth. I giggled again. He licked my lips for a minute or so. Then I brought some Kleenex out of my purse and had him wipe me, just to make sure. He even wiped my shoes when he was done. I fluffed the hem of my dress, to free it from my body, and he helped me pull it down evenly, front and back. I did not put my panties back on. I totally enjoyed having him help me with all of these little details. His willing, enthusiastic attitude gave me a nice feeling of being well cared for.

Since I hated public restrooms anyway, I suggested to him that we agree that I wouldn't use them when we were together. Instead, we would find discreet places to park the car, or other sheltered locations, where I could pee, with him watching, and protecting me from other eyes. He thought this was a wonderful idea, and readily agreed. We had some very erotic, fun adventures, as a result of this agreement. He has described most of them very well in his memoir, so I won't repeat many of them here.

There was one incident which was spectacular and exciting, but almost ended in a wetting disaster, for me, so it is worth my telling about it. We had tickets to a play at a theater that was about a 40-minute drive from where we lived and worked. So we met beforehand for drinks and snacks in our local area. We were both dressed well; I was wearing a garter belt and real stockings, under a very pretty dress. We wanted to keep our pact, and I certainly wanted him to see me pee in this outfit, so I didn't do it in the bar, before we left for the theater. We agreed that we would find a place for me to "go," on the way.

Traffic was heavier than expected, and we had a hard time finding an exit from the freeway where there would be some chance for privacy. I was fidgeting and getting more and more desperate with every minute, as he drove. I had my hands between my legs, pressing hard on my pussy, through my dress, trying desperately to hold my pee in. Finally, I lifted my dress, pulled it out from under me, and gathered it around my waist, exposing my bare thighs above my stockings. I told him that in case I squirted or dribbled, my legs and panties might get wet, but my dress would stay dry. I pressed my hands against my pussy, over my panties, which were thankfully still dry, and crossed my legs, for added pressure, to stop leaks. I saw him sneak a peek at my legs, showing obvious excitement and admiration.

Somewhat to my surprise, I was feeling a little embarrassed by my own desperation and the extreme measures I was taking, and letting him see, to keep from wetting myself in front of him, even though I had let him watch me pee many times, under a variety of circumstances, at that point in our relationship. I told him very emphatically that he absolutely had to take the next exit, no matter what, because I couldn't possibly hold my pee a minute longer. He could see that I was very serious, and more desperate than he had ever seen me. He did take the next exit, and we were extremely lucky. The exit took us into a quiet, poorly lit residential neighborhood, with older houses set back from the street, and quite a few trees. He stopped under a tree, which afforded some privacy from the houses, and there was still some light from one of the street lamps, so he would be able to see me pee. I couldn't have cared less at that point, whether he, or anyone else could see me pee. I had to go now!

I had my door open, panties off, dress already around my waist, and was sitting on the running board with my legs spread wide, before he could even get out of the car. When he got around to my side, I was already pissing a hot, ragged, wickedly hissing stream, which splashed on the pavement. It sprayed wildly and splattered on the street, pretty much out of my control. A few drops sprinkled my upper, inner thighs, above my stocking tops, but my dress, stockings and shoes stayed dry. This went on for about a minute, until my stream slowed to a stop. Then a few more drops came out, in a couple of spurts. He was there with the box of Kleenex to help me wipe my thighs and pussy. I would much rather have had him lick me, as he wanted to do, but there was no time. Besides, we didn't know anything about the neighborhood we were in, or whether we had been seen.

I looked at the huge puddle on the pavement, and told him I couldn't believe that all of that had come out of me! We closed the car doors and got back on the freeway, continuing to marvel at how much I had peed, and how spectacular it looked, as it hissed and gushed out of me, in a raging torrent. I was amazed at the size and power of my stream, and how forcefully it sprayed. I told him how desperate I had been, and how I would have wet myself and my beautiful dress really badly, at any second, if we hadn't stopped when we did.

He said I looked incredibly sexy, sitting there in the car, with my dress around my waist, showing my beautiful legs. He told me that my lifting my dress, pressing on my pussy with my hands, and crossing my legs tightly were all incredibly erotic in his eyes, and also gave him a very intimate look into me, and made him feel much closer to me, sharing my anxiety about wetting myself and my dress.

He confided that he was feeling panic that we wouldn't find a suitable place on the first exit we took, off the freeway, but was profoundly relieved, when we did. He had no idea that I might be put in such a desperate situation, and he felt guilty that he hadn't encouraged me to pee in the Ladies' room at the bar we had left, earlier. That made me feel much more relaxed, and less anxious, knowing that he was totally on my side, and he hadn't been secretly enjoying my extreme discomfort. We remembered this incident warmly, reminisced, and chuckled about it, for months afterward.

He decided that he liked to lick me dry after I peed, instead of just wiping me with t.p., when we were in the privacy of our hotel room. I enjoyed that a lot more than using t.p. He seemed to really enjoy having my pee on his tongue and in his mouth, so it occurred to me that he might like me to actually pee in his mouth. I didn't have the nerve to ask him whether he wanted me to do that, and he never asked me to do it, directly. But I noticed that the wetter I was when he licked me, the better he liked it.

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 my car, a large 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 me, whether it was the alcohol giving me courage, or some strong, subconscious desire, but I looked him in the eyes and said "I have to go." He looked very pleased, and started to open the car door for me to pee outside, sitting on the running board. I stopped him, saying, "No, I want to do it right there," and patted the car seat. Then I told him to lie down with his head on the spot I had pointed out, and get ready.

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

I had to guess where his mouth was, as I lowered myself onto his face. I really had to pee, and knew I wouldn't have any trouble getting started. Holding it while I got into position was more of a challenge. When I thought I was there, I peed a little, and felt it gush, wetting my right thigh. I stopped, and asked if he was getting any. He said yes, he was, and it was delicious. So I started again, but I could feel the warm pee running down my right leg, so I knew he must have been catching most of it with his mouth on my thigh, which I could feel. That was fine with him, but I really wanted to do it directly in his mouth, and to be a little neater, in the process! So I stopped again, shifted position, and restarted. This time, my pee gushed straight into his mouth, and he loved it, but I had to slow it down by stopping and re-starting several times, to give him time to swallow.

I finally gave him all that I had, then lifted the front of my dress to watch him lick my wet thigh and lips, between my legs. He looked like he was enjoying that too, even though his face, hair, and shirt collar were soaked with my pee. We dried him off as best we could with Kleenex, but his knit shirt was still damp, when we said good night. He told me later that he loved my scent so much that he didn't wash that shirt until my pee smell faded from it, after several weeks!

This gave me a couple more ideas for us to have fun. First, peeing in his mouth was an option, when we couldn't find any other place for me to pee. That could be both fun and practical, at times. And second, his keeping his pee-wet shirt unwashed after our "happy hour" adventure gave me a naughty idea: I would give him a pair of my panties, with my pee scent on them, to remember me by when we were apart. He would return them to me the next week, in exchange for a freshly scented pair.

So I decided to start by wetting my panties right in front of him one night, as we were getting dressed and ready to leave the hotel room. I called him into the bathroom, wearing only my bra and panties, telling him that I wanted to show him something. I stood over the toilet, facing outward, straddling it, with the seat up, and peed in my panties, after catching his eyes, when he walked into the bathroom. When it started coming out, it gushed through the thin cloth, soaking them instantly, which surprised me a little. I was glad it kept on going through them instead of running down one or both of my legs, as I was afraid it might! I shared that concern with him.

He said that if it ran down my legs, it wouldn't have been a problem, at all. He would have been more than happy to lick them "dry" for me! I knew he was making a promise on which he would deliver. I had seen how turned on he was, on the rare occasions when my pee wet my legs, and he got to lick them dry for me. There was something about seeing my pee dribbles on my legs that excited him more than anything else. I was very curious about that, and asked him why?

He told me about an experience in his early life. He said he had looked up a girl's skirt, in grade school, as she returned to her desk from the bathroom, and he had seen pee dribbles on her inner thighs. This was incredibly exciting to him. He fantasized about how she peed, and how her legs got wet, for years afterward. From that time on, he confided that seeing pee drops on a woman's legs was a fantastic turn-on, for him, reminding him of that early experience. That was a very interesting revelation to me, and I kept it in mind for the future, which turned out to be fun, on several occasions.

He loved watching me pee in my panties, which he had never seen me do, before. He loved it even more when I slipped those wet panties off, and handed them to him. He sniffed them and kissed them, then put them in his pocket. Kneeling on the floor, he hugged my thighs, and licked my wet pussy dry.

We repeated this ritual for several weeks. To keep it interesting, I did it in different positions or styles, every week, first in a high squat, then sitting with my legs spread wide apart, then pressed close together, as if I were trying to stop my pee from coming out. I even peed sitting with my legs tightly crossed, which he didn't believe I could do. It hissed and sprayed a little at first, and my upper inner thighs got wet, so it was a little messy, and I knew he would love that! He was only too happy to lick me dry when I was done wetting my panties, and handed them to him.

There were situations on our dates  when there was no outside place for me to pee, and I had to use public restrooms. In one such situation, I told him I had to "go" just as we were leaving a bar. It was summer, and I had nothing but panties on, underneath my skirt. "Please don't wipe," he whispered in my ear. "OK," I said, wondering what he had in mind. I often skipped wiping in our hotel rooms, because he was going to lick me dry. But this was different. We were in a public place, and I was worried about visible dribbles running down my legs, as I walked back to the car.

The restroom was relatively clean, so I sat when I peed, with my legs spread wide. I peed a lot, gushing and hissing. When I finished, I saw that my lips and hair were quite wet, but my legs were dry. So I didn't wipe, but just pulled my panties back up, thinking that they would absorb everything. But as I walked out to meet him, I could feel some dribbles running down the backs of my legs, toward my knees. That made me very anxious, so I grabbed his arm and told him we had to hurry back to the car, laughing nervously. As soon as we got in the car, he ran his hands up my legs, all the way to my damp panties, and found the dribbles on my thighs, as well as some that had already reached my calves. He dove under my skirt immediately, and started licking his way up my legs to my panties, then buried his face in them, moving them aside with his tongue, as he licked my pussy. His tongue felt awfully good, and I soon forgot my anxieties. I told him I wanted his cock in me. I took my panties off handed them to him, and straddled him on the car seat, just like I was squatting to pee, and took his hard cock into my wet pussy. We both came very quickly.

There was a time when I wanted him to fulfill a fantasy of mine, where we fucked standing up, outdoors, as part of our noontime jog. He was very willing, but he said he didn't know if he could "rise to the occasion," under those circumstances. I told him not to worry. I drank a lot of liquids and held my pee for five hours, then stood, with my legs wide open, and let it all fly out, in a fantastic spray, just relaxing, and letting it go, without trying to control it. I noticed that my legs got wet, too. He saw that, and had no problem at all, rising to the occasion!

On another occasion, I deliberately peed on my legs for him. This started when I stood and peed on a hilltop, with him watching. I had planned this as a surprise for him, ahead of time, but pretended that the need to pee just hit me suddenly. I started to do it with good control of my stream, which I usually had, but the wind swirled around me, and blew my pee all over my legs, which was a surprise to me, and to him! He was ecstatic, and licked me from my ankles all the way up, afterward, then tongued me to one of the best orgasms I ever had. I think I squirted a little pee in his mouth, when I came. He swallowed it and said, "Delicious." (What a difference from my former lover, who was disgusted when I peed on his hand, during an orgasm!)

I rewarded him by showing him how I could spread my lips and sprinkle pee drops on my legs, while lying down. I had already peed a lot, so I didn't know if I had enough pee left, but I managed to wet my upper thighs, with a few drops. He watched me intently, as I sprinkled my thighs. He wanted to rub his cock on my legs, because we didn't have much time left, and I wanted to make them wet and slippery for him, so he would cum as quickly as possible. He was so excited by what he saw and felt, that he squirted a huge load on my legs, almost immediately.

Another time, when we were going to shower together, I deliberately saved my pee until we were in the shower, intending to put on a little show for him. Then I just let it go, making no attempt to control it at all. It gushed all over my legs, and I watched it run all the way down them to my feet,  It was a dark yellow, so it was very visible, quite spectacular, I thought. It felt surprisingly hot on my legs, and I called his attention to that. I think he would have missed my little show entirely, if I hadn't said something. I didn't let him know I had planned to put on a show for him, claiming that I just wanted to be "efficient," peeing and showering at the same time.  So remembering his odd little quirk about seeing me pee on my legs added to my fun, as well as his.

We eventually disagreed about the future of our relationship, and broke off seeing each other regularly, which was disappointing to both of us. But we still got together a few times a year. Once I had experienced pee sex with "Dr.P," I realized that I really liked it. To me, it was just another expression of love, between two people. I shared that with him, and he agreed. More importantly, I lost my feelings of shame and revulsion about my bodily fluids and processes, which had influenced and inhibited me, for my entire life.

So when I began dating other men, I told them stories and asked them questions, to gauge their interest in my peeing. I got a wide range of responses, from curiosity and enthusiastic interest, to disinterest and disgust. Some who professed disinterest, showed definite signs of arousal, during our conversations. One guy came in his pants, after listening to one of my little stories! So I have to say that my experiences with peeing and sex broadened my outlook, for the rest of my life.

Dr. P.