465 lines
20 KiB
Plaintext
465 lines
20 KiB
Plaintext
Bad Girl, Wet Girl
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Author's note: The following is all based on things that really
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happened with this rather wild girl I was with for several years.
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While things might not have taken place exactly in the sequence
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described below, it is all based on actual events.
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My girl friend Angi and I were at a popular local rock club. We
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both knew a bunch of people there and we were off by ourselves
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talking to folks. I was talking to some musician friends, drinking
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beer, and occasionally even paying attention to the band that was
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on stage. I'd glanced around a couple times looking for her, but
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not with any great concern-- we're a pretty independent couple
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sometimes.
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However, it was getting on 12:30 and I still hadn't spotted her
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recently when I saw a buddy of mine wander in. He saw me and came
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over to say hi. We greeted each other, and then he said "I think I
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saw your woman out in the parking lot. Maybe you oughta check up
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on her a bit," he said and looked at me meaningfully. He said he
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saw her in a silver Blazer and he described about where it was
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parked. I still didn't really figure anything was amiss. She was
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probably out doing a line of coke, something I didn't really
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approve of, but I never had much luck telling her what to do or not
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do along those lines.
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Out in the parking lot I located the vehicle he'd described. A guy
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and a girl did in fact appear to be making out in the front seat.
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I felt a twinge of anger in my gut, and it grew to more than a
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twinge as I got closer and was able to recognize the girl. It was
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definitely Angi. I watched their tussling around for a minute to
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to try see exactly what they were up to, but then finally decided
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to intervene.
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I strode over to the passenger side door and pulling the door open
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demanded, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
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Startled, they untangled themselves. She was quickly trying to
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adjust her clothing.
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"Who the fuck are you?" the guy asked struggling to regain his
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composure. It was someone I'd seen her talk to before, but I
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didn't know him.
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"It's my boyfriend," she told him by way of explanation.
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I leaned into the cab. "Hey, man, I'm sorry, man," the guy
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said thinking maybe I was coming after him. I had no problem
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with him. He was doing what any guy would do. It Angi I was
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angry with, and I grabbed her wrist and pulled her roughly from
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the truck.
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Her feet hit the gravel of the parking lot. A half full bottle of
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beer tumbled out with her and landed on the ground. I saw other
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empties in the truck. Private party-- cute!
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She was tugging down her skirt which, though very short to begin
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with, had ridden up almost to her crotch. You couldn't blame the
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guy for going for it. Her shirt was short, taut across her
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breasts, and she had long, tan, bare legs. She patted at her hair
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which was also messed up. Yup, they'd been at it pretty good. A
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guy can tell when his woman is all worked up. Looking her in the
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face I could see she was flushed.
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"C'mon, we're going home," I said, again grabbing her wrist.
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"I'm going back in," she replied defiantly and trying to pull away.
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"No sweetheart," I replied, "I'm afraid your night is over."
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"I'm going in," she said still tugging to get loose. "I have to
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pee," she added, and she tugged at her skirt some more. She
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looked quite drunk.
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"Were going home," I answered firmly, and again attempted to pull
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her in the direction of our car.
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Now Angi has an almost adolescent streak about her when she's done
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something wrong. She doesn't become remorseful or apologize, she
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just gets petulantly mad back. This is particularly true when
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she's drunk or high and I saw that coming out now. I'd caught her
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with another guy, but she was mad at me because I'd spoiled her
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fun.
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"Let go of me!" she said. "I wanna go back in. I have to go."
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"You are going home, young lady," I said. "You can wait 'til we
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get home." I was furious with her.
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I got her to the car, still pulling her by her wrist, and unlocked
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the passenger door. I shoved her not too gently into the seat and
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slammed the door.
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I got in and started the car. She was saying nothing, not looking
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at me. She had her legs crossed tightly, and was bouncing her knee
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rapidly up and down. So she had to pee-- fine! It didn't seem to
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have been a problem a few minutes ago when she was making out with
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whoever.
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I turned out of the parking lot and we started home. "So what
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were you up to?" I now asked. "What were you doing with him?"
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"Nothing. I kissed him good night. Big deal."
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"That looked like more than just a friendly good night kiss to me,"
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I raged. "Why did you go out there?"
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"He had some coke," she said. Yup, I'd been right about that.
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"How much coke did you do?"
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"Just a couple of lines. It wasn't that great," she volunteered.
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I believed her on this point. Her jaw didn't exhibit any of the
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telltale signs. But just a small amount of coke can apparently
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really trigger her sex drive. I'd seen that before.
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"Why were you making out with him?" I said getting back to the main
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point of misbehavior.
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"I wasn't! It was just a good night kiss." She stuck to her
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story. Helluva a good night kiss.
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We were stopped at a long red light. I fumed silently. I looked
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at her. She was fidgeting, still bouncing her knees. Maybe she
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really did have to pee but she wasn't saying anything about it now,
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suffering in proud silence. She looked over at me briefly, and
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then went back to looking straight ahead. We started moving
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again.
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We argued some more, me trying to get her to admit what she was up
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to. I became more accusing. "So did he get you pretty horny?" I
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asked. She was silent. "Were you going to fuck him?" Still no
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response.
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We stopped for another red light. I decided to see for myself how
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aroused she had become. It's easy to tell with her. I reached
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over and started to force my hand between her legs.
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"What are you doing!" she yelled pushing my hand away and keeping her
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legs clamped. "You just leave me alone."
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I persisted and finally she opened her legs enough to leg my hand
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through to her crotch. One thing about Angi-- she's not too good
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at keeping her legs together if a guy wants in. I deftly slipped
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my middle finger around her cotton panties and into her pussy.
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Sure enough, her vaginal walls were slippery and dripping wet. I
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was getting ready to withdraw my finger when I noticed that at the
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top of her vagina I could feel her bladder, very plump, very firm,
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very full. She really did have to pee and pretty badly too, I
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suspected. I probed the distended wall of her bladder now with my
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finger and she let out a high sound of surprise. She began
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struggling to get my hand away. The light was turning green so I
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withdrew.
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"I guess you do have to go, huh?" I said tauntingly now.
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"I've gotta go real bad," she confessed, but the tone of her voice
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remained angry.
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"It didn't seem to matter when you were with him, apparently," I
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noted.
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"I told him I had to," she said. "I was getting ready to go in."
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She hadn't looked like she was getting ready to go in one bit when
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I'd walked up. I turned it over in my mind. She must have been
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pretty damn turned on, pretty out of control horny to have been
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holding that full of a bladder and still staying out there to make
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out. If felt myself becoming aroused at the thought of her intense
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horniness. I decided we'd have some fun when we got home. If she
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could hold it for him, she better be able to do the same for me!
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She continued to squirm during the rest of the ride. She'd bounce
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her leg quickly up and down for a few seconds, then pause, and then
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resume the bouncing movement. By the time we finally were pulling
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into our driveway, she was leaning to one side a bit, up on her
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right buttock with her left hand pressed firmly into the car seat.
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I steered the car into the garage, and she immediately jumped out
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and ran to the door, her keys ready. I followed close behind her.
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Once inside she made a dash for the first floor bathroom. I darted
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after her. I burst in on her, finding her already with panties
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down, skirt hiked, and starting to sit down.
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"Oh no you don't!" I said. "You could hold it for him, now you're
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gonna make out with me a little bit first." I grabbed her wrist
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again, and pulled her to a full standing position.
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"You're crazy," she shouted struggling. "Let go of me." She
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continued ranting at me.
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I got my arms around her and managed to tug her panties back up in
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spite of her resistance. I shoved her out of the bathroom,
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twisting the lock and pulling the door closed behind me. "You
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won't be needing that for a little bit," I said.
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Tugging her in to the living room I explained things to her. I
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told her that I was very angry with her, that she had betrayed my
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trust. And since she had been a bad girl, there were certain
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consequences that she would have to accept for her behavior. "You
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seemed to have been more than happy to wait while you made out with
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what's his name. You can just wait a bit more while you make out
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with me," I finished. I seated myself next to her on the couch and
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put my arm around her so she couldn't get away.
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"Let me go!" she shouted. "You're crazy!" She finally gave up on
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the verbal abuse and sat and pouted.
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I began to kiss her roughly. She kept turning her face away. I
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sure didn't seem to be getting the same reception the guy in the
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parking lot had gotten.
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I moved my hand to her breast and began pinching a nipple. "Did
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you let him do this to you?" I asked.
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"Yes," she answered after a moment. She was ready to admit things
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now, just to make me mad.
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I continued pinching her nips and squeezing her tits through her
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shirt. "He was doing this to you?"
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"Yes," she answered tersely again. Her pelvic squirming I noticed
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was now starting to assume a certain rhythm. Maybe she was
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imagining being back in the parking lot.
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Now I moved my hand inside her shirt and squeezed her full juicy
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titties through her bra. "Did you let him do this to you to?" I
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said, the sound of my voice getting raspy.
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"Uh huh," she answered.
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My squeezing became more forceful at the thought of her doing this
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with that guy. I slipped my hand under her bra now and her breasts
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fell into my hand. "And I suppose you let him under your bra,
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too!"
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"Yeah," her voice defiant. Her sleek bare legs were crossed
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tightly, her pelvis grinding.
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I suddenly pulled my hand away. "Go get us a couple of beers from
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the fridge," I said pushing her to get up. She looked startled to
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be back in our living room instead of in the parking lot of her
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fantasies.
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She got up and apparently felt the pressure in her bladder again.
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"Now can I pee?" she said. She started to head toward the stairs
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to the upstairs instead of towards the fridge. I rose quickly.
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"Don't even think about it," I said sternly. "We aren't done making
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out yet. You had beers with you in the parking lot, we'll have some
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beers now."
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Reluctantly she started towards the kitchen. It was an open floor
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plan house and I could see her as she walked to the fridge. She
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was walking half on tippy toes, bent slightly forward. She opened
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the door and stood looking for the beer. She was shifting her
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weight from one foot to the other, prancing like a little pony.
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"There's still some beer on the bottom shelf," I said. There
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should be one Heiny left in back. Bring that for me."
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I could hear her exhale sharply as she bent down. She found the
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beers, and popped the top off of mine with the opener on the
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fridge, and came back in the living room. She handed the beer to
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me and I pulled her back down onto the couch next to me.
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"Drink up," I ordered. She took a hesitant sip. "I'm not gonna
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let you go until you finish at least one beer," I said. She
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took a few more healthy slurps. She wanted to complain some more,
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but she was in proud mode.
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I resumed fondling her. I now grabbed a thigh and moved my hand
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up towards her crotch. "Did you let him feel your thighs?"
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"Yeah."
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"You were quite the little slut tonight, weren't you!" I growled. I
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slid my hand roughly the rest of the way to her crotch and started
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pressing against her pussy through her panties. "Did he feel your
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little horny pussy?"
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"Mm hmm." She writhed against my hand.
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Sliding my finger into her vagina again, I reaffirmed that she was
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extremely wet. I didn't have to ask if she'd done this with him.
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She wouldn't have been able to stop him. Feeling the top wall of
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her vagina now I noticed that her bladder was noticeably even
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fuller than before. It was hard as a rock, the texture and shape
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like a very large grapefruit. I gently stroked my finger against
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its surface. She moaned and squirmed. The slightest pressure from
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my finger was excruciating to her.
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Then she started trying to break away from me again. "Let me go!"
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she said, a frantic tone in her voice now. "I've got to go, now.
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I've absolutely got to go!" Her tone was no longer quite so
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defiant.
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"No, just one more minute," I said. "You've got to finish your
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beer and we'll fuck for just a second and then you can go." She
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shifted quickly back into mad mode, and grabbing her beer drained
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it, jiggling frenetically the whole time.
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I pushed the coffee table back and knelt on the floor in front of
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her. I pried her legs apart. I tugged her panties down and
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scooted her skirt up a bit. Her abdomen was visibly bulging. I
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ran my hand gently across the curve rising above her pelvic bone.
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It was also very firm. This elicited another moan from her and some
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renewed frantic squirming.
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Unzipping my pants, I got my cock out. I forced her legs apart and
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moved toward her pussy. Her arms were straight and she had both
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hands clenched into fists, pressing into the couch on either side of
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her. Her pelvis was still grinding as she struggled to contain the
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ever increasing volume of fluid.
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"Oh god," she said. "I'm not going to be able to. I'm ready to
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bust." Her breathing was shallow and fast.
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I teased the outside of her pussy for a minute and then slowly
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started to gently enter her. She was gasping and panting as the
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added bulk of my penis increased the pressure on her urinary
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bladder.
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"Oh no, please, let me go. Please stop. Please let me go," she
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began pleading in a high pitched voice.
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I moved slowly in and out of her, letting her feel the full effect
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of my dick as it grazed her bladder wall. She was biting her lip
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and moaning. I did this for a minute or two, and then smoothly
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withdrew ready to keep my end of the bargain.
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No sooner had I pulled my cock from her, than a sudden spurt of pee
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squirted from her pussy hitting the head of my cock. She let out a
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yelp. A second short spurt erupted, and then a third. She grabbed
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her pussy with her hands, stopping her flow. She was breathing
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very fast and hard, and her pelvis was writhing.
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"Oh god, oh god," she was saying and struggling to get up. I
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grabbed her arm and pushed her off the couch and onto the soft
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carpet of the living room floor. She landed on her elbows and
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knees, bare butt up in the air.
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"You shouldn't have done that," I said softly. "I was going to let
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you go. And look what you did to the couch."
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From where she was on the floor another several spurts escaped her
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pussy as she struggled to raise up on her hands. The last short
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jet trickled away as she finally squeezed control over her
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urethra. She hadn't lost much but she'd made several little wet
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spots on the carpet, the pee emerging in different directions with
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each burst.
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Now I smacked her sharply across her bottom with the palm of my
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hand. She made a quiet whimpering sound and again started
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dribbling, first little squirts, then a slower leaking "Cut it out
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right now!" I said. I waited until she had regained control again
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and then I pulled her to her feet.
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Her bladder I knew would still be extremely full. The few trickles
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that had escaped wouldn't have gone far towards easing her need. I
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escorted her to the dining area to get her off the good carpet.
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"You're going to have to stay in here until you think you can be a
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good girl," I said. "Think how embarrassed you would have been if
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you'd done this while you were with that guy! Come back and sit
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next to me when you think you're OK again. When you can fuck me
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without loosing it, then I'll let you go."
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I went and got another beer for her, putting it on the table. Then
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I sat down on the couch with my beer. She paced quickly back and
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forth, shaking her hands loosely. Several times she stopped and
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grabbed herself, and stood in apparent concentration. Then she'd
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resume pacing.
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"Keep your hands away from there," I instructed. "It's not very
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ladylike, you know."
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Her pacing assumed a fever pitch. She stopped and bent part way
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forward, jiggling. She gasped and I heard the hiss of pee escaping
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again. I could see a small puddle on the floor where she stood. I
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didn't say anything. She resumed her agitated motion, but soon
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stopped and stood still. Then she gingerly walked over to the
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couch and sat next to me.
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"I think I'm better now," she said, but she was still bouncing her
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legs.
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I began kissing her and fondling her breasts again. Moving my hand
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to her thighs, I parted them slightly. We made out for another
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minute. I was getting ready to try to fuck her again when, with a
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sharp intake of breath, she again began to pee on the couch. A
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couple drops squeezed out, and then a couple spurts, then more
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slower leaking.
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I pushed her to a standing position while she was still peeing
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and shoved her in the direction of the dining area again. "Get
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back over there," I directed, "and drink some more beer."
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I kept her on the edge like that for about half an hour, making her
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drink more, and watching her struggle when she leaked
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uncontrollably. I slipped my finger in her every once in a while
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to make sure she wasn't leaking on purpose more than she had to,
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but her bladder remained rock hard, maybe even becoming gradually
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fuller and more distended. She struggled valiantly but she was
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also becoming sloppier drunk and was having less and less luck
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keeping control.
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"I guess we can't keep you inside much longer with you like this,"
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I said. Her panties still lay on the floor near the couch, and
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somehow had escaped getting drenched. I grabbed a towel from the
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kitchen and wiped down her wet inner thighs and her pubes, and then
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instructed her to put her panties back on. She gingerly complied.
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"Fix your shirt," I said. She struggled to get her bra back down
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into position and to get her shirt smoothed out. Now I took her
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hand and led her out through the garage to the front driveway. She
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walked mincingly behind me.
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"OK, you can go," I said. "but stand with your legs together."
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She didn't question this, happy to finally have received permission
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to relieve herself. She stood arms folded against the chill night
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air, leaning forward, breasts plump and protruding, and with her
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legs squeezed together. She held her breath for a second and then
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she began to pee and pee hard. Sheets of water poured down her
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inner thighs. Her eyes were closed and I could see her begin to
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relax as she peed her panties.
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"Just a minute," I said grabbing her arm and jolting her back to
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reality. I pushed her over towards the front steps, forcing her
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to take a couple steps with pee still squirting from her. With
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apparent great effort, she again stemmed the tide.
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"Oh jesus, don't make me stop," she said. "That felt *so* good."
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"I'll let you finish, now, I promise. Just go sit on the steps,
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legs crossed." I gestured to the front steps. She walked over and
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sat, crossing her legs gracefully as I'd instructed.
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"That's good. You may finish."
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She bent forward slightly and then the flow started again with a
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sharp hiss. The concrete step beneath her darkened, and then a
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puddle formed on the step below her, cascading down the remaining
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steps. It took almost a full minute for her to finish.
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I let her sit for a bit.
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"Are you all done?" I asked. She nodded. I helped her up and
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escorted her back indoors. Walking behind her, I saw the large
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|
dark spot on the back of her skirt and the droplets still
|
|
glistening on her thighs and calves.
|
|
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|
We went upstairs and toweled her off. Then we got in bed and had
|
|
an intense session of fucking, both us climaxing with great
|
|
intensity. We fell into an exhausted sleep, with me cradling her
|
|
in my arms. It was the first of many times the she was a very bad
|
|
girl, and later a very wet girl.
|
|
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|
== Venture
|