textfiles/sex/EROTICA/F/fourthwv.txt

I would like to make clear one thing: This story is not intended to demean 
women. I always had a pretty good relationship with the women in our groups, 
particularly with Angela, whom I helped as much as I could to cope with her 
sometimes difficult private situation (she had a little (!) son at that 
time, and her husband was very often on business trips). She was really sad 
(as I was) when I left my position to take over other resposibilities. On 
the other hand, with the cool eye of a scientist I'm looking at my erotic 
and sexual fantasies and don't suppress them as I think they are one of the 
most natural things. In my mind, there's a friendly co-existence between 
caring for my family, taking seriously men and women, scientific and 
cultural interests, love and sex, and sometimes the desire to write w/s 
nonsense stories for e.g. Thomas' Watersports Resources homepage. But I'm 
sure you're understanding what religious nutters, self-appointed censors and 
CDA idiots never, never will understand.


*************************************************
The Fourth Wave by Roland, February 1996


I'm a pee listener. No, that's not exactly true, as I would prefer free 
flowing Golden Arcs, but in real life it's so hard to see something like 
that. Listening to pee is only a second order approximation but certainly 
better than nothing. Unfortunately, I never dared to seduce a girlfriend 
into the w/s fetish. Maybe, I missed something in my life. To be shy doesn't 
give you an edge.

Also I'm an amateur scientist interested in all kind of m/f biometrics: who 
has the largest breasts, who has the longest penis, and particularly, who 
has the larger bladders, men or women?

To solve the latter mystery, I restlessly was looking for capable women 
(men's figures are more easily accessible for obvious reasons) and 
estimating their bladder capacities. Given my natural shyness which 
restricts me to listening, I developed a sophisticated theory to estimate 
the quantity of pee after having timed her peeing and analyzed her pee noise 
characteristics.

Actually, I'm developing a pee-o-mat, a fancy device which analyzes the pee 
noise spectrum and is able to calculate very precisely the pee flow rate 
over time given the shape of the bowl and the geometry of the loo, but I'll 
keep this still as a secret until I've applied successfully for a patent .

But before I perfected my theory of peeology, I did a large field research, 
and one of my richest sources of experimental data were the women in my 
company, which I joined several years ago as a young SW developer.

Let me tell now the story of Angela, a developer's colleague, whom I could 
monitor more exactly than others.

Angela was a dark haired young lady, in her mid 20's, small, height about 
163cm, but really sexy with a firm body (she did a lot of sports), a nicely 
shaped bust, an even more nicely shaped bum, and a preference for mini 
skirts. Minis are nothing unusual now, but she managed to attract all men's 
attention to her musculous thighs as she had the habit to constantly pulling 
down her skirt which always tended to end well above her knees.

The first time she attracted my attention (I mean a very particular 
attention) was on the Munich Oktoberfest. Everyone knows the Munich 
Oktoberfest, so let me skip lengthy descriptions. It's a tradition of our 
company's groups to visit the Oktoberfest once a year, and also this year I 
found myself in one of those huge Beer Tents, sitting just in front of 
Angela.

In such a tent there's always a terrible noise, called "Blasmusik" (caused 
by a Bavarian brass-band variant), and people have to yell at each other, 
and with the aid of some kind of gesture-language you'll manage some basic 
conversation. A very communicative place indeed, and the next day you'll 
have lost your voice almost entirely. Doesn't matter, we all have email. 
Yelling makes thirsty, but this is no major problem. The eagle-eyed 
waitresses spot every empty or nearly empty mug and "Bang!" a new one is on 
your table, just for you.

I drunk one mug, Angela drunk one, and then we decided to make fifty-fifty 
and we had another half mug each. I didn't want to get too much dizzy as I 
had the plan to test my own hardware by riding a new big dipper kind of a 
g-load nightmare with 5 built-in loopings (I passed the test, but it took me 
quite a while to calm down the chicken in my stomach).

Much input causes much output, and this is a problem as it's difficult to 
get to the loo facilities through the crowd, they are very questionable, you 
have to join a long queue, and peeing outside isn't a viable alternative as 
a lot of guardians keep an eye on illegal outdoor pissers which are running 
the risk of getting a heavy fine.

So I was always waiting as long as I could to delay that cumbersome way to 
relieve myself. Obviously, Angela did the same and I was very curious how 
this small girl would deal with that much beer. She dealt very good: as long 
as we were together before I started my g-load HW test, that is for three 
hours, she didn't go.

I had to take a closer look at Angela's drinking and peeing habits. At that 
time, I had to fix a lot of SW interfaces with people of Angela's group and 
this sent me rather often into her group's room at various times of the day. 
Slowly, but steadily all pieces of the puzzle were forming the following 
picture:

She would arrive at about 8:00 a.m. and start work at her PC with a large 
cup of coffee. Alternating, one person of her group would then go to our 
in-house shop and buy something for his/her colleagues, second breakfast, 
sweeties, beverages, etc. Angela regularly ordered a 1l-bottle of water 
which she would consume by and by after having drunk her cup of coffee, 
while typing in her SW. At about 10:00 the bottle would be empty, at about 
10:30 her bladder full to the brim, then she would go to the toilet.

The more demanding part was to figure out was going on in the loo. We were 
working in two large buildings which are connected by a towerlike 
center-part which houses entrance room, staircase, lift and men's and 
women's rooms. On each floor, the men's rooms are located at the right, the 
women's at the left side of the lift-shaft.

One day, I was waiting for the lift, I saw Angela coming along. It was about 
10:30. "Hey", she said, "Hey" I replied and she entered the lady's room. All 
toilets have a door-closer device which would keep the outer doors tightly 
shut automatically. But either the spring mechanism had faded or the door 
latch mechanism was calling for some drops of oil, this particular door 
didn't latch properly and stayed open in a crack. In other words, this loo 
wasn't acoustically sealed.

Great. "Bang" made the cabin door inside. I heard the rustle of her skirt 
being lifted, "zizzz" the slip coming down, and then I noticed a peeing 
style I never heard before. She didn't let it simply go, no, she squeezed 
out the content of her bladder in three tremendous tidal waves of a really 
hard piss as if she tried to pee a hole into the bowl. After the three 
waves, the stream died slowly away and the show was over. Of course, I knew 
the "jetter/dribbler" style of peeing, but what really stunned me was the 
immense peak pressure of her stream.

This was a real challenge. To estimate a constant flowing pee isn't that 
difficult: e.g. take a 25s pee at an estimated flow rate of 20ml/s, then 
simple arithmetic gives 500ml pee. But for this strongly varying waves I 
needed a more sophisticated flow model and a peak flow rate estimate.

But first of all, what's needed was to collect more experimental data. Her 
fairly regular habits of arriving in the morning, drinking coffee and the 
water bottle, followed by her peeing made it fairly easy to have a lot of 
engineered encounters at the lift. Either I had some notes in my hands which 
attracted my full attention exactly when I was passing by the lift at about 
10:30 so I had to stop walking for a moment, or I played the "I'm waiting 
for the lift, but the fuckin' thing won't come" game. The hit rate was 
pretty good, about one, two times a week.

It has been said that women seem to be fairly consistent as to the pee style 
that they adopt. Angela wasn't any exception and I got the following 
profile:

Three waves, each 8s long, then a "tail" of a slowly decreasing flow of 10s 
 - 12s duration. That's what an amateur scientist likes: reproducible 
observations. Total peeing time between 30s and 40s, well above the usual 
10s to 20s trickles our ladies normally showed. That's what I like so much: 
the contrast between being a small girl and having a large bladder.

One day, I got a nice double feature.

At the peak of Angela's second wave, a door went open and Steffi, a 
colleague of another group, came out heading towards the ladies room. I 
slowly left my listening position continuously staring at my notes, turned 
round at the right moment as if I had forgotten something, went back and was 
passing by the ladies room exactly when Steffi opened the door. It was the 
first time I could hear Angela's pee unfiltered for a short moment. She was 
at her "tail trickle" now and the sound was stronger than I expected, maybe 
I should re-estimate her flow rate figures. Steffi entered a cabin, locked, 
pulled down her pants, and started to pee almost exactly at the moment when 
Angela stopped.

I expected Steffi's lovely splashing noise getting drowned by Angela's 
flush, but to my surprise, Angela didn't flush and I could hear Steffi's pee 
at full length. This puzzled me. O.K. there's another reason to use the loo, 
and women sometimes have a third one, but my unbridled fantasy ... Was 
Angela listening to another women's piss? Who knows, the human soul is 
inscrutable.

Steffi had produced one long wave with a flat maximum, total time about 30s. 
Also well above the standards and much easier to handle for quantitative 
estimates, I should put Steffi next onto my list of girls to monitor (which 
I did. Steffi was more difficult to investigate as she had more 
unpredictable peeing times, but as I found out later she also had quite 
constant habits and peed between 25s and 35s, but that's another story).

One day, destiny hit me. I got a call from my boss and he told me to come 
over into the office of his boss. Didn't sound very good. I entered my 
boss's boss room and there sat the two men with straight faces, let me sit 
down and my boss's boss started a lengthy speech. I've forgotten the details 
but basically he said: "Young man, you've enjoyed a long period where you 
could bridge the time between breakfast, lunch and dinner with playing 
computer games, having a nice chat with your colleagues, flirting with our 
entertainment factors (he meant our female employees). Now you're old enough 
to face the more serious side of life: To attend boring meetings, to learn 
to write volumes of meaningless notes, to get blamed for things you're not 
responsible for, to get drowned in bureaucracy, to restlessly make time 
schedules everyone knows they are absolutely impossible to meet."

In other words, he offered me a position as a manager of a SW developers 
group. Of Angela's group.

One of my first duties was to have individual meetings with all people in my 
group to talk about project status, tasks, schedules, the usual stuff, you 
know.

For my first meeting with Angela as her new manager, I tried to readjust 
mentally my relationship with her. She wasn't anymore the sexy babe from the 
other group to flirt with, no, now she was a genderless human resource I was 
responsible for. I must confess, I had some initial problems with that 
mental shift as you will see now.

For the sake of comfort and privacy (and coffee supply;-) I asked my new 
boss whether I could get his room as there was always a shortage of meeting 
rooms and I myself had to share a room with another manager. He gave me a 2 
hour time-slot for the next day: from 10:00 to 12:00, and at 10:00 the next 
day I entered Angela's room to pick her up.

The bottle was empty, my mind full with fantasies I couldn't suppress as 
much as I tried. We entered my boss's room, I asked her to take a seat, 
offered her a cup of coffee (which she accepted) and I started walking 
through our agenda.

There were a lot of things to talk about: not only about status of our 
project, task re-assignments, assessment of her work, but also about her 
plans to work partial time for family reasons. A really full agenda, and I 
took my new responsibilities as her manager very seriously and discussed 
everything very carefully in great detail.

A furtive glance at my watch: 10:30. It's pee time, My Lady. I immediately 
pushed away my thought and tried to focus on her job matters. My human 
resource sat there in a mini well above her knees and had the most seductive 
smiling I ever saw in her face, or was this only my imagination? I continued 
with some task re-assignments but as much as I tried I couldn't ignore the 
fact that she definitely didn't suffer from cellulite.

It was about 11:15 when I started to fight against another distraction of my 
mind. Was this an accidental movement or did she clench her lovely pair of 
thighs? And didn't she change her position more often than usual, crossing 
and uncrossing her legs? I tried hard not to lose the thread of our 
discussion and entered the most subtle part of our meeting: her partial work 
plans.

We talked a while about the optimal way to balance her private and our 
companies interests when I peeked at her abdomen while battling against my 
fantasies of a slowly growing balloon full of you know what. Didn't she 
palpate her tummy?? This reminded me of an ex girlfriend who had the habit 
first to palpate her bladder for a while before she finally went to the 
bathroom to let a flood of pee.

It was past 11:30, more than a full hour past her normal peeing time and now 
you couldn't overlook that she was fidgeting. But obviously, she didn't want 
to lose any time or to disturb the concentrated atmosphere of our meeting, 
and she didn't go to relief herself. And what was that? She put her thumb at 
her waist band and pulled it as if she wanted to lower the band's pressure 
onto her abdomen. Was the waist band squeezing in her greatly bloated 
bladder? If that was true, then her bladder would have reached nearly the 
level of her navel. Well possible after having drunk a breakfast coffee at 
home, a large cup of coffee at work, one litre of water, and another cup of 
coffee during our meeting. An exciting perspective ...

I was in a fascinating conflict. On the one hand, there sat a genderless 
human resource and I was scrutinizing all possibilities to reconcile private 
and business needs, and on the other hand I couldn't help but looking at her 
as a very seductive girl with a bladder at bursting point. To make things 
even worse, my body was now reacting: my dowsing rod started to point to the 
vein of water which was forming right in front of me.

At about noon, my new boss returned and we had to finish our meeting. We had 
a small talk with him, then we both left his office.

A little bit faster than usual she was heading towards her group's room but 
as I expected she turned left sharply as she arrived at the lady's room and 
dashed in. I followed her slowly and found to my great satisfaction both 
floors deserted.

I arrived at the ladies' room exactly when Angela started her first wave, as 
vigorously as usual. At the second jetter, I was looking at the crack of the 
not properly latching door and then suddenly a great idea jumped into my 
mind.

I recalled my physics text book, chapter "diffraction and radiation emitted 
of a slit". Clearly, the door not only was damping the noise, but also 
cutting off the lower part of the noise spectrum! To hear her pissing in 
acceptable acoustic quality, I had to push open the door a little. Which I 
did very cautiously after having checked that both floors still were 
deserted. Angela was finishing her third wave and then I heard her to take a 
deep breath and with a moaning she pressed as hard as she could and I heard 
a mind boggling fourth wave in full hi-fi stereo sound quality.

As I stated above, Angela was an athletically inclined young woman and my 
fantasy let me see her sitting nude in a group of other nude women and all 
were doing a new particular aerobic exercise: to pee as far as possible, and 
Angela outperformed them all to the great delight of her trainer (me).

Then Angela entered the last dying-out-dribbling phase and I carefully 
closed the door again, called the lift and went down to the basement to 
recollect what I've heard just before (to tell you the complete truth, I 
also needed the loneliness of the basement to slowly get rid of my, well, 
you understand that I was rock hard).

Let's sum up: 4 waves at 8s each gives 32s, plus the trickling tail of 15s 
gives 47s total peeing time. But I still had to model the waves and to make 
estimates of the peak flow rate. Let's assume a initial flow rate of 20ml/s, 
a very conservative estimate of a peak flow rate of 40ml/s, and a sinusoidal 
shape of each wave, this gives after integration ... I should postpone this 
calculation for my Macsyma math pack I have on my Pentium machine. I would 
also renormalize Angela's jetter/dribbler peeing style to a continuously 
flowing reference pee of 20ml on the average, but I smiled as a knew one 
thing for sure:

Angela was a new, lovely, pretty, sexy member of my Full Minute Gushers 
Club.

<<The End>>