textfiles/sex/EROTICA/T/toga.txt

                                Toga Party

                         by Tinker, February 1995



I had been looking forward all month to our last performance. We were well
rehearsed, and every house had seen a roaring success for our college drama
society. It was Rome, year-zero, and our proud hearts swelled as the crowd
applauded our performances. And our costumes.

I wore a short tunic, like a Roman gladiator's. It fitted loosely over my
shoulders and chest, gathered at my waist by a rope, and reached halfway to
my knees. Leather sandals, you know, the 1920's kind that twine their way
up the calves, completed the outfit. I don't know why, but the whole
costume looked very authentic, although it probably wasn't even close.

During the rehearsals, when it became clear which costumes we got to wear,
I had developed an idea and in the performance week this became almost an
obsession. It was a tradition of the drama society that after the final
performance the players, still costumed, would mix with the crowd in the
bar. It made for a nice ambience, we all thought. So I would be wearing my
tunic all night, with ample opportunity to try something out I had wanted
to do for years. I could hardly wait.

Finally the last curtain fell, and we congratulated ourselves on a Job Well
Done. Party time! The whole crowd of players (all thirty-three of us) burst
from a twisty maze of passages, all alike, and dashed for the bar. But I
returned to the locker room for some last-minute preparations. Under my
tunic, a solid erection filled my underwear, and I was glad the tunic was
so wide. In the locker room I pulled a small plastic bag over my cock so
that I could forget about it when the final moment arrived, and then tucked
everything neatly into my underwear. I had chosen some fairly tight light-
blue briefs that extended seamlessly up to my waist. When I heard somebody
coming, I dropped my tunic over my pantsies and went after the crowd to the
bar. It promised to be a wonderful evening.

Half an hour and three beers later, I realised that I really had to pee.
Immediately my cock started to grow again, and soon it was up right in my
underwear, still covered by the bag, leaving no exit except downward.
Casually I walked out of the bar, greeting the people in Roman robes with
flair, and proceeded to the large playing field behind the sports building
where people had built a camp fire. Somebody had brought in a guitar and
the group produced quite a lot of noise. Staying out of the direct light
circle, I walked to an edge of the grass and pretended to just walk about
to catch some fresh air. People saw me coming by, but nobody really
noticed. I had been waiting for this moment for over ten years.

Of course I knew perfectly well how to wet myself. I had done it too many
times to count already, in all possible poses, but always in complete
privacy. This had less to do with the peeing and more with the garments I
used to wear while doing it. For some reason, I only felt comfortable
wetting myself under some kind of skirt. Jeans or shorts were no good, swim
suits neither; it had to be normal underwear under a skirt. Wearing skirts
in public as a male is not a good thing if you want to avoid attention, and
I did not feel like dressing up as a woman to try to deceive people. No
way, Jose. I just wanted to pee myself, and needed a skirt, but no other
things.

But this evening, I wore the equivalent of a skirt and could easily get
away with it. Excited as I was, I walked along some more until I really
needed to go. So now it would happen, I thought. Quickly I looked around,
but nobody was closer by than fifteen meters and nobody walked or looked my
way. Casually I spread my legs a bit and bent slightly backwards,
stretching my muscles while looking to the still not completely dark sky.
It felt great to feel a pee coming up and doing nothing about it.
Completely at ease, but of course very excited, I crossed my arms in front
of my chest while looking at the wood fire. I still could hold back. I
still could. But I simply did not want to.

Then, the familiar warm feeling in my cock told me it was too late. Many
years of practice paid off as I opened up my faucet and started to pee in
my panties. Slowly my pee trickled down my erect cock, still hold captive
by the bag. I felt it coming down and reaching my balls. A great feeling
took possession of me, and contrary to my usual habit of stopping for a
moment, I just continued peeing. The warm liquid now had reached down to
between my legs, where the bag ended and my underwear began. I closed my
eyes and waited. Until now, it had been only preparation. But now I would
cause something under my tunic that would immediately betray me if I was
too careless. I would wet myself. I really would piss in my underwear. I
could not stop it from happening anymore, but my underwear was still dry.
It was just inconspicuously light blue. I could bend over and nobody would
notice something. I could just sit down without thinking. I was completely
normal.

But then the inevitable happened, and I almost _felt_ the sudden appearance
of a small, dark spot somewhere between my legs. It grew, quickly, and was
joined by two other spots left and right of it. The three spots grew
towards eachother and touched, forming one big spot. And it still expanded.
A thrill went up my spine because of this simple act. I had lost my
innocence, and it felt almost like losing my virginity. I had purposely and
in public pissed in my pants. And I felt delighted. It was _better_ than my
fantasies.

In a few seconds, the fabric got completely soaked and I thought I heared
something falling down between my legs. Whatever it was, the fireside
singing drowned it. Completely satisfied, I started to pee harder and now
really pissed my pants. It was wonderful. Standing twenty meters from a
crowd of people, still clearly visible, I was peeing myself under my tunic.
I was in heaven. The delight of doing it in my briefs so that they got
stained gave way to the pure joy of warm liquid washing through my pants,
and the feelings of my own pee turning my dry briefs into tightly fitting,
warm, moist layers of fabric almost made me scream. Oh, if I only could
wear a skirt once in a while...

I shuddered to a stop before my bladder was empty, to save something for
later. As I walked back to the bar, some pee trickled down my legs, but I
was sure nobody would notice. The bar was filled up to the brim and I could
barely get myself in. Still, I managed to find a standing place at the bar
to pass time and fluids. One hour and another three beers later, my pants
felt quite normal again considering the damp and crowded climate in the bar
that caused everybody to sweat. I decided to go out for another try. After
all, I should take advantage of the situation as much as possible.

Unfortunately, a girl I knew from a class a year earlier decided to leave
together with me and took the same route to the playing field. When I
stopped for a moment, gazing at the public announcements, she stopped as
well and just asked me: "You're going to the sports park? I heard there's a
wood fire over there." I could hardly do anything but nod, and told that
that indeed was my plan. Now she waited for me, dammit. Together we walked
on, while my need to piss grew every second. Arrived at the fire place, I
said goodbye to her and took the route to the edge of the field again.
Shit. She followed. "I'm not in the mood for silly community-singing. I
just want to catch some air," she said. Mumbling I continued.

As we approached the place where I had wet my pants earlier that evening,
the girl suddenly dashed out in front of me. She turned around to me,
looked at me with a strange look in her eyes, and winked. I stopped
walking. Then, she stepped back two steps and looked down. I followed her
gaze, and noticed that she wore a pair of grey-white sneakers. I also
noticed that she wore a medium-length, wide skirt. Nice. I now really had
to piss, but being so close to this girl I would not in any circumstance
let go. Almost grinding my teeth, I asked her what she had in mind. The
girl only smiled.

She looked to me again, longer this time. I started to feel uncomfortable,
and having to pee badly didn't improve matters. Then, she winked again.
After quickly glancing at the people by the fire, she stroke her skirt and
looked me straight into my eyes. And then she parted her legs.

I could hardly believe what was happening. Would she...? Before I could
think of anything to do, her face showed a mixture of excitement and
satisfaction. Her skirt hid everything that happened under it, but I did
not need to guess what she was doing. Within a few seconds, her pee
streamed down between her parted legs and she reached for my hands. I
couldn't resist it: I took a step forward and grabbed them. While she was
still peeing her panties, she nodded towards my tunic and just said: "Your
turn."

That was all I needed. With redoubled energy, my pee gushed into my
underwear and soon we both were wetting ourselves thoroughly. It felt
absolutely fabulous, pissing my pants in semi-public while standing eye to
eye with a pretty girl who was wetting herself as well. It took about forty
seconds before I was finished, and soon after she pulled her legs together
and sighed. "Ahhh... that was great. Thanks!" Then, she giggled and
realised what had happened. She felt the need to explain. "You see, I saw
you walking alone at the border of the lawn, wearing a dress of some kind,
and then spreading your legs a bit and just standing there for a minute. It
might be silly of me, but I could not think of anything else than that you
were a girl that had just sneakily peed herself under her dress. I thought
I was the only girl who liked to do that, so I wanted to see you better. It
was not until you passed by the fire that I noticed you were a boy. It must
have been because of the darkness, and because of that strange tunics they
have made." I nodded and blushed a bit. "Well... you were right, yes. I did
pee myself. So you decided to follow me and look for more?" "Ahem... sort
of. I could not hold myself back when you left the bar again, after
drinking that much beer. So I followed you again, and well, here we are
then." She smiled and stroked her skirt again. I could not do anything but
gently kiss her and say "Thanks." "You're welcome," she replied, and
together we walked back to the bar. My crotch was warm and comfortable, and
my erection had disappeared almost completely. I couldn't resist pissing a
bit while walking, and it felt great. "By the way, my name is Linda," she
told me.

After having some more drinks (but no beer any more) standing at the bar, I
spotted a place on the side of the room that was empty and rushed to sit
down on the stone edge that went alongside the whole wall. Linda followed
and with her back turned to me, she sat down on my right leg. I could feel
her moist panties rubbing my thigh while she arranged her skirt neatly
around her bum. I put my arms around her and gave her a hug. She responded
by moaning a bit, and then I felt some warm liquid on my leg. Linda
giggled. "Sorry! I couldn't resist." She pushed her ass against my thigh,
and apparently this pressure did a lot for her, because her breath stuck
for a moment. She moaned again and then bent her head backwards and
whispered in my ear: "I _really_ need to go again. Do you?" I nodded, and
Linda smiled. She rose to her feet, corrected her skirt, and helped me
standing up. I had pulled up my tunic before sitting down, and Linda
confirmed that nothing showed from behind.

Together we left the bar and walked in no particular direction at all. Even
before reaching a somewhat darker place, Linda could not hold it any more
and while we were in the full beam of a street light, and with dozens of
people around, she let go. While her panties already started to leak
between her legs, she hurried over to the grass and took position under a
tree. There she continued and pissed herself almost to orgasm. She managed
to stop just in time, and with soaking wet panties under her skirt and
every quiver of her body clamoring for attention, she came back to the
road.

I had waited for her and deeply enjoyed the show she gave me. Boy this
_was_ the best evening I could ever remember. I had wet myself under my
tunic several times, and had met a girl who liked it maybe even better than
I did myself. Linda took my arm and together we walked on. A bit later, I
felt ready to pee myself again and like Linda I started while walking. She
immediately noticed what was happening and escorted me to the grass. While
I peed my pants like never before, Linda hugged me like a lover and I could
not help grabbing her where I could. Linda started to kiss me, and I felt
her reaching under my tunic. Her hand moved between my legs, and I must
have peed right over it. Linda sighed. When I stopped peeing, she let me go
and proceeded towards the nearest building. "Are you coming to my place?",
she asked. Of course I was.

Arrived in her room, which she did not need to share with anybody else, we
just wondered what to do first. We both were soaking wet, but still nothing
showed. We were also quite horny, but did not feel like having sex
together. So what else was there to do? I started to look around her room
while she put a plastic bag and a towel on her couch so that I could sit.
Linda disappeared into her kitchenette to put a kettle on the fire for some
tea.

She must have been a great lover of science-fiction stories, given the
number of posters at the walls. Her book shelves also showed this interest.
Linda came back and noticed that I was studying her SF stuff. "Yes, I like
to read those things. They give me a sense of being on top of the world, I
guess. All those problems, solved by technology instead of politics. Just a
way to fled for reality I suppose. It all is just too unreal." She smiled
and took a big full-colour picture book off a shelf. Opening the book, she
sat down next to me, with her skirt carefully pulled up so that it would
not get wet. I saw it was some kind of Star Trek special, from the early
Seventies. Linda pointed: "Look, the way they designed these ships, the
rooms, the control panels... it just seems so _easy_ this way. I am no
technologist, but I know it is too simplified. A star ship just cannot be
like a cruise ship. A captain, a ship's doctor, a chief engineer, alright.
But the rest... so clean, so well-organised... and the women are just
nurses and receptionists. Did you ever see one of these women _do_
something, except giving the doctor a spray gun and taking clipboards to
the captain? And answering the phone of course. Here, look at the
receptionist. She belongs in a beauty centre, not on the bridge of a star
ship."

Linda paged to a place in the book she must have visited a lot of times
already, because it fell open at that spot by itself. She pointed at a
full-page picture of Uhura, standing in front of her panel, showing off the
great red micro dress someone had meticulously tailored around all her
female roundings. "Look at her. Isn't she gorgeous?" Linda asked me. I
nodded. "Yes she is. I always liked her appearance. Especially the dress
she wears. You know why." I smiled at Linda, who smiled back and then
circled with her finger over the page, as in doubt what to do next.

I looked back to Uhura, standing with her legs slightly apart, looking
quite ready for action, her dress just covering her panties. Linda was
right, she _was_ gorgeous. Unfortunately, there was no way this movie
character would ever take to wetting herself. The whole setting of the
series wouldn't allow even a single spot on her outfit, she would always be
the perfect secretary, even in the most desperate circumstances. Linda now
looked aside, to me. She wanted to say something but hesitated. I looked to
her and smiled. "What?" With a slight blush on her face, Linda then told me
that she had once visited a Star Trek fan club meeting, just to see what it
would be like. She met a lot of completely weird people, some of which were
dressed just like the characters in the series. Some girls actually wore
the red and blue micro dresses of the females. There even were two stands
of half-commercial, half-hobby shops that sold these outfits. In a rush of
madness, Linda had bought such a red dress for herself, including all the
accessories that went with it, like (you guess) a clipboard. It was a
complete package and it had cost her way too much, but it was one of those
days that you think you can use even the most stupid stuff.

I smiled again. "And, did you ever wear it?" Linda grinned and shook her
head. "Of course not. The dress was some kind of one-size-fits-all model,
fairly well done but it needed a lot of tailoring. I spent three evenings
getting it right. They included the black boots, of some plastic quality
but no real rubbish, and the Federation insignia, but no panties! I spent
another day looking for the right type; eventually I acquired a red sports
slip in a sportswear shop. And when I was finally ready and put everything
on, I felt so incredibly stupid that I stuffed the whole outfit in a box
and never looked at it again."

After some moments of silence, Linda got up, put the book back on the
shelf, and went into another room. "I suppose it still fits me. We'll see."
It took her a few minutes to find the proper box and to change. She yelled
at me: "Guess what? It fits! The panties feel like brand-new and the boots
make funny noises, but for the rest, I think I can pass." That said, Linda
stepped into the light circle and posed in front of me. I gasped.

Telling that the dress fitted her like a second skin would do it injustice.
This must indeed have been three evenings' of experienced work there,
alright. Linda looked absolutely stunning. She had no special breasts or
hips or thighs, but the dress enhanced all these features in such a way
that she would turn every head in a radius of one hundred meters. Her slick
legs went all the way up from her black boots to the hem of her dress,
which seemed impossibly high up her thighs and still did not reveal any
sign of panties. Linda smiled and turned around, showing off her ass and
the fact that she had used her mirror well while tailoring the back of her
dress. No sign of any panties, yet less then a centimetre overshoot. An
artistic masterpiece, this dress.

Clearly satisfied as to the effect her appearance obviously caused in me,
Linda came nearer and sat down on my right knee, her legs in between mine.
I felt her ass mould itself over my leg and put my arm around her. She
kissed me on my cheek and simply told that she thought that in this episode
of Star Trek, a certain female character would probably pull a stunt that
would rage through the SF world for months. While I fondled her right
breast through her dress, she took my left hand and put it on her knee.
Because she held her thighs firmly together, I could only slide my hand
over the top of her legs and slowly approached her dress. Just before I
would go under it and touch her panties, her kettle whistled and she dashed
into the kitchenette. And no, I could not see even a glimpse of her
panties. Talk about teasing!

A minute later Linda came back, carrying a plate with two glasses, a teapot
and some sugar, milk, and cookies. The tea smelled great and would be ideal
for the rest of the evening, providing us with the water we needed without
killing off the brain like beer. Linda put the plate on the low table and
sat down on a little bench at the other side, modestly crossing her legs.
While I poured us some tea, she obviously tried to see if I was looking at
her, and in what way. But I pinned on my poker face and passed her cup. She
took it from me solemnly and sipped carefully, since it was still piping
hot. Apparently Linda took sugar in her tea, because she reached for it on
the table. With her legs crossed this was impossible, so without thinking
she put her knees next to each other again and then she even needed to open
her thighs a bit to keep her balance. Of course this was enough for me to
see her panties, fully exposed, and when Linda discovered this she laughed
and threw away any idea that this dress could successfully cover up her
underwear. Not that I minded.

After some more tea and some more talking about SF and other things, Linda
announced that it became about time to get ready for some serious fun,
since she was getting a bit uncomfortable. She got up and spread a large
sheet of plastic out on the floor, with some towels in the middle. Then she
picked up the clipboard and directed me to open the book again and put her
in exactly the same pose as Uhura in the book. Gladly I obeyed. Soon Linda
was standing in her full beauty in the middle of the sheet of plastic,
clipboard under her right arm, left hand on her hip, her black boots
slightly apart, and her dress perfectly covering all her features. I
noticed that she breathed rather quickly, since her breasts clearly moved
up and down in her tight dress top.

She swallowed. "Well... this is it, isn't it? I have wanted to do it this
way, in this clothes, for years, but since there was nobody looking at me I
never came to it. I have worn this uniform three times, all three when I
was alone, and tried to persuade myself to wet it, but it never pulled off.
I just did not dare to spoil the uniform for nothing. But now, I will. I
really will." Linda shuffled a bit on the plastic, and turned so that she
could look at herself in the mirror on one of the walls. Smiling she
approved of the sight of herself standing with her legs apart in the red
micro dress, and then looked at me: "Do I have permission to start the
procedure, captain?" I got up and came closer to her, squatting in front of
her to look up her dress. "Of course you have, lieutenant," I mimicked the
Star Trek speak. While I looked up to her figure and admired her
appearance, I added: "Engage!"

Linda caught the series crossover and with a bright giggle, she firmly
grabbed her clipboard and pressed her button. Not moving at all, she let it
come. The fight against her instincts took a few seconds. She was still
just standing in the middle of her room, breathing fast, trembling, her
knuckles slowly turning white, and her eyes fixed on her own image in the
mirror. Her face started to colour a bit, and then her breathing suddenly
stopped. At first only her eyes widened, but soon I saw a dark red patch
growing in her crotch, and Linda slightly stiffened. But that was only
during that first wonderful moment of wetting herself. When her panties
could not cope any longer and started to drip, with the patch still
expanding and now working its way up her cheeks as well, I saw her
relaxing.

She took a deep breath, let it escape with a soft moan of pleasure, and
slowly closed her eyes. While a tiny stream started its way down from the
crotch of her red panties, this beautiful lady of the stars gave herself
fully to the feelings of pleasure and accomplishment that streamed through
her body, and I was just in time to catch the clipboard as it slipped from
her fingers. Linda sighed, put both her hands flat on her hips, and then
slightly bent her knees and pushed her ass backward so that she looked like
a little girl wetting her panties. But little girls do not wear red
Starfleet micro dresses and high black boots, and little girls usually do
not glow of excitement during their wet accidents as well. Linda did, and
she truly liked it. The waterfall between her spread knees increased in
volume and a slight hiss became noticeable above the steady drum roll of
her pee on the pile of towels. From my point of view I could see that her
panties now were fully wet and that they had turned into one consistent
dark red shade. Moistness glistened around the spot where the stream left
the fabric to begin its drop down, and I almost started to caress her
sensitive parts through her wet panties.

I let her finish the first stage of her wetting, up to the moment that she
re-opened her eyes and with a hazy look of pleasure tried to see what
happened to herself down under. I then rose to my feet, came closer, and
embraced her lightly so she had somebody to cling to while she geared up
for the grand finale. But Linda was not in the mood for some light
embraces, I quickly discovered. She threw herself against me with all her
weight, forcing me to do a step backwards to maintain my balance. Linda
pushed on, more on instinct as intentionally, until my calves hit the edge
of her couch and I tumbled over backwards. Fortunately the couch was well-
padded under the plastic sheet so I did not hurt myself. Linda just let
herself fall down on me, and locked her legs around mine. With one hand she
lifted my tunic, with her other her own dress (not that it needed much
lifting), and then she firmly pressed her wet panties against mine and
pushed herself up with her arms left and right of me. While I felt her warm
pee soak through both her panties and my briefs, Linda started to rub her
crotch rhythmically against mine, and steadily increased her tempo.

While my own crotch got wetter and wetter and I could feel her wetness
pooling under my ass, Linda arced her back and bent her head backwards as
well, forming a boomerang-shape with her whole body. With her pee still
pouring through her panties in long, powerful gushes, she rapidly
approached an orgasm that would have blown up her mind if it had not been
designed to take this kind of treatment. I was aroused by her movements and
her wet performance, but not to such an extent that I would come together
with her so I decided to help her getting the most out of her work. I
placed my hands on her breasts, that waved wildly just in front of my face,
gave them a careful but firm pinch, and then slid my hands down over her
belly, her hips, up her back, and then down again until I found the soft
mountains of her cheeks, still covered by her panties and her dress, as
short as it was. Linda was now gyrating at full speed and her breathing had
turned into a staccato panting with loud moans in between. The end was
near. Quickly I slid my hands up her dress from behind and grabbed right in
the middle of the wet mess between her legs. Having her wet panties stroked
was the last thing she could stand, and with a last gush of warm water
pouring out of her, Linda crashed down and cried out in the pillow next to
me.

I felt all her built-up tension flow away together with her last pee, and
she unlocked her legs so that I could move again. For a moment I let her
just lay on top of me, and then I carefully rolled her over and found a
cosy spot for her on the couch. While she had her eyes still closed, I made
sure that her dress was not under her wet ass from behind, and I pulled it
down in the front so that her obviously well-pissed panties disappeared
from view again. Then I stepped back, onto the sheet of plastic on the
floor, and prepared myself for my own release. Spreading my legs out wide,
I hiked up my tunic, reached into my briefs and pulled off the plastic bag.
It had served me well, but now was of no use any more. My briefs could not
get much wetter in front, after Linda's work. Surprised by this sudden
freedom, my cock sprang to life again and quickly I let my briefs snap back
in place to tame the monster. While I dropped my tunic over my briefs to
cover up the bulge, I noticed that Linda had opened her eyes and was
following all my movements with interest, even from still quite far away.

This was all I needed. Still looking at Linda, lying there seductively in
that gorgeous outfit, with completely soaked panties and fully satisfied, I
felt my own pee spurting wetly in my underwear and soon the warm feeling
spread around the whole front of my belly. It came down and took possession
of my crotch, my ass, even the parts of my briefs at my sides. The
spreading smile on Linda's face could only mean that this time, my tunic
got soaked as well. Still only looking at her, I emptied my bladder
completely in my underwear in one big gush. Yes, this could really be
called "wetting myself!" A waterfall splattered down onto the plastic sheet
and I could feel the drops hitting my calves through the open leather
sandals.

Linda now got up and elegantly walked around me, looking at me in a way
that made my heart thump in my ears. Her uniform had stayed completely dry,
unbelievable after all she had done in and under it. She stopped in front
of me, squatted down without caring for her panties, and lifted my tunic.
With one hand, she slowly started to caress my cock through the wet
material of my briefs and I could do nothing but stand still and moan.
Linda looked up to me and when my eyes met hers, something snapped inside
me. She must have felt it in my cock, because quickly she rose to her feet
again, kissed me, grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the sofa. She lay
down on her back, with her legs spread out and her knees pulled up a bit,
and invited me to use her, her dress, her wet panties, and all else to help
myself finishing it off. Of course, it took no time at all to dive onto her
and get myself the best possible circumstances for the greatest of joys I
knew. With heavily wet pants, a wonderful evening to look back to, a true
friend very close to me and all my fantasies concentrated within one meter,
it took less than a minute of intense cuddling before I spasmed and threw
out all the wishes of many, many years.

When I came back to reality, I found myself laying on my right side, and I
saw Linda sitting at her table, legs crossed, dress arranged neatly around
her thighs, hiding everything that had happened. She just took a sip of her
glass of tea. When she discovered that I had woken up, she just smiled. "Do
you fancy another drop of tea?" she asked. "The last one was very nice."
She stroke her belly and let her soft hand glide over her right hip, her
dress, her thigh, towards her knee. "Very nice."

I just nodded.