Wet Stone


The clock hanging crookedly on the shabby wall had just flipped past two am. I had been watching it for the past 17 minutes as my girlfriend leaned against my shoulder on the sagging couch and drunkenly babbled until she passed out, as I had planned. When we had arrived four hours ago, her hair had been neatly fixed, as always, but now the curly reddish-brown strands flowed wildly around her slim form, cascading down into the low neck of her top to rest between her breasts. At some point after she had stopped caring, her white bra strap had slipped off her shoulder and now rested on her arm, visible below the short sleeve of her shirt.

We formed an oasis of calm, ebbing at the edge of the wild party that had overtaken the old house by storm. This house embodied the very definition of a college party house. The sagging couch sat against the rear wall of the large great room. To my right, a beer pong table began hosting its 14th game of the night; the waiting list on the whiteboard behind it still filled from top to bottom, despite the fact that half the people on the list could not possibly finish another game without first passing out. To my left, a large oak table hosted twice as many people as chairs, and some card game that I could not possibly comprehend sober was underway. An archway behind the oak table opened up into a large wooden-floored dance room, filled wall-to-wall with writhing bodies. Through a doorway in the far wall of the great room, I could see into the kitchen. On its tile floor, six people were playing an intense game of caps. Throughout the house, music blared, people danced, and the drinks ran freely, even at this late hour.

I reached my hand into my pocket and wrapped my fingers around a cold, marble-sized stone. It fed on the energy of my body, drawing heat from my fingertips and leaving them chill and numb. Soon I felt the familiar tingle indicating the stone’s readiness. Now my fun would begin. Mentally, I conveyed my orders to the ancient stone: I ordered it to begin filling the bladders of all female occupants of the house at a constant rate, such that in exactly ten minutes time they would be so full that they would involuntary lose control. To provide some level of fairness to said occupants, I then amended my instructions so that anyone who peed before the ten minutes were up would be released immediately from the stone’s control.


The dealer at the card table saved herself first. Scarcely three minutes from the issuing of my commands, she smiled triumphantly and threw down her final card. I heard a chorus of jovial boos arise from the others at the table as they dropped their hands in defeat. The champion left the table, stumbling straight(ish) for the small bathroom, located directly across the room from the couch on which I sat. She managed to stagger in without incident, then she flipped on the light and closed the door to the house’s sole bathroom.

No sooner had the old dealer left the table, than a girl with flowing blond hair arbitrarily promoted herself to dealer and began shuffling for another round. Her black nearly-translucent top captured my gaze for nearly five minutes as I watched her toned arms shuffle and deal cards.


The opening of the bathroom door interrupted my pleasant daydream. On reflection, I found it amazing that one as drunk as she had only tied up the bathroom for five minutes. Her egress also drew the immediate attention of one of the dancers; the dancer leaned over and whispered to her partner, then headed towards the open door. As my gaze followed her across the room, I noticed one of the observers of the beer pong game also heading towards the bathroom. She was a cute brunette, and her knee-length brightly colored green skirt swirled around her knees as she walked hurriedly. But she did not walk quickly enough; the dancer entered the bathroom first and closed the door. Not wishing to appear desperate, the brunette altered her course slightly and instead headed to the kitchen. Moments later she emerged, sipping tenderly from a green cup as she returned to watch the game. I was amused to see her acting as if she had intended all along to consume more liquid rather than expel it.

Within thirty seconds, a line for the bathroom had begun to form. A girl, unfortunately I did not see whence she came, stood outside the door looking bravely calm. A hidden tension settled over the room; fewer drinks flowed from the kitchen, and I saw many covert glances at the bathroom door.


Around the T-minus two minute mark, the dancer finally left Maltepe escort bayan the bathroom. As soon as the single-person line had disappear, the nearest girl, another from the dance floor, quickly formed a new line. She stood with legs crossed, displaying an air of distinct discomfort, although her appearance as such was hardly unique to the house now. With one hand she alternated between fingering the button on her track pants and playing with the red bow in her hair, while the fingers on the other hand tapped incessantly against her left thigh; kept close in case she had to hold herself quickly.

Through the kitchen door I noticed one of the caps players give up her spot to an onlooker. Sitting with her legs spread out in front of her on the floor had clearly become too risky to continue with such a full bladder. She hobbled over to the bathroom line, her short skirt bunched up and held between her legs with both hands as she shifted her weight restlessly from one leg to the other.

Many of the card players were now fidgeting quite openly. One young lady, whose boyfriend sat upon her lap, tapped him on the shoulder and whispered in his ear. I watched as the pair arose and the boyfriend took the chair. With him now on the bottom, she nestled her soon-to-be-wet bottom into his lap.

Shortly afterwords, a loud gasp instantly drew my eyes to the dance floor. The stone came alive in my pocket, and I used it to focus on the source of the noise. A girl in a skirt with black leggings stood near the center of the dance floor, standing in front of a boy whose arms were curled around her waist. Milliseconds dragged by as I watched the disaster unfold in slow motion. Unwittingly, the boy did the stone’s work for it; attempting an impromptu dance move, he took a step backwards and then began a yank on the girl’s waist to pull her into his body. She felt the contact of his hands on her bare skin, followed by pressure against her taught belly. I watched her eyes widen as she realized what would inevitably follow. She bared her teeth in concentration to battle against the quickly increasing pressure in her bladder. Through the stone I felt her panic as one squirt shot into her black panties. She regained control, but the boy’s arms pressed against her with more and more force each millisecond. Another squirt slipped free, immediately followed by a third. Bursts began pulsating out as she lost her balance and fell back against the boy, but still she tried to keep a mental count of each leak: five….. six…. seven.. eightnitenelev…

I withdrew my intense focus as she fell heavily against the boy. In his drunken state, the boy failed to hold her upright and the two collapsed to the floor. She had been facing me when she fell, and I stared intently between her legs at the black fabric glinting in the light as urine saturated the cloth and forced its way through. I heard him yell out as the girl’s river of pee flowed over him and began forming a puddle on the dance floor beneath the couple.

The T-minus one minute mark had just passed when another pulse from the stone drew my attention away from the dance floor. Looking keenly around the room, I soon noticed a small wet spot on the floor beneath one of the girls sitting at the card table. Oddly enough, she wore bright pink slippers on her feet, despite the warm weather. Another girl sat upon her lap and both were ostensibly focused on the game. The girl on the bottom looked extremely calm; not at all like someone who had just had an accident. I continued observing her, and a few seconds later saw a surge of pee fall through the wicker chair and land in the dark spot on the floor. She had unknowingly freed herself with the very first release, but as I watched, she continued letting out small bursts in a last-ditch attempt to avoid flooding her khaki capris long enough to make it to the bathroom. The short bursts became progressively longer and longer though, even as the gap between them became shorter and shorter. Her plan had clearly backfired; she was losing control entirely on her own now.

By this time, several girls had started excusing themselves and, after seeing the line for the bathroom, decided the outdoors would be their deliverance. I felt a shiver from my girlfriend as she shifted restlessly on the couch beside me. Even in her unconscious state she had managed to bring one hand up to dwell between her legs.

With fewer than 25 seconds to go, the door to the bathroom finally creaked opened. The caps player waiting second in line still stood holding her skirt Escort Maltepe firmly between her legs with both hands, not caring who saw or watched. Her face registered cautious optimism when the door finally opened, but the face of the girl poised to enter the bathroom next shown with gleeful radiance; shining as if she had just finished a marathon. The red bow atop her hair bobbed cheerfully as she rushed towards the door, knowing she would make it, but her body responded too quickly to the sudden availability of a toilet. Her bladder began opening in anticipation before she had even made it through the bathroom door. As she turned to close the door, I caught a glimpse of an expression of anguish replacing the joy on her face as clearly as I saw a not-so-slow trickle of pee replacing the dryness of her grey track pants. The soaked fabric clung to her legs, noticeably outlining the now-wet panties she wore under it moments before the hard wood of the door blocked my gaze.

The pong observer with the green cup, who had previously been blocked from using the bathroom, interrupted my thoughts when she wandered into view from the kitchen. Her eyes were glued to the bathroom even before she set foot in the great room, but upon seeing the line, she slowly changed her course and walked over to the card table. She stood observing the game with her back to me, her knee-length black ruffled skirt swishing restlessly as she shifted weight from one leg to the other and back again. Fishnet leggings cover those legs, terminating in a pair of open-toed black high-heels. Suddenly the rustling of her skirt stopped and she froze with her weight still shifted to the right. A pencil thin line of liquid fell from between her legs. Undoubtedly, she was absolutely flooding whatever she wore under that skirt, for, in addition to the thin waterfall, two or three times as much pee was flowing out of the open toe of her right heel. It formed a mini river delta in the thin carpet as it spread out under the seat of one of the card players. From my position behind her I couldn’t see her legs well, but I knew her inner thighs must be very warm indeed. However, mere moments after she lost – or perhaps gave up – control, she managed to regain it. She had regained control so quickly in fact, that no one in the room except her and I knew what had just happened. But both of us also knew that once the flood gates are opened, they are not easily shut for long.

All hell broke loose with five seconds to go. I lost track as women bolted towards the front and rear doors. Some crouched down on the floor of the great room. A few did nothing at all and just continued sitting or standing in place; apparently too drunk to either comprehend or accept what they knew was about to happen. And one, my girlfriend, lay passed out and completely oblivious to her desperate situation except, perhaps, in her dreams.

The caps player, still waiting not-so-patiently in line at the bathroom door, gradually lost her struggle. She felt intense heat between her legs as hot pee slowly filled her urethra despite her best efforts to hold it in. Her hands still held her skirt bunched against her panties as the pee began its unhurried journey through her clenched fingers to the floor.

Those who had waited until this moment to head for the exits were too late, I knew. Most fled from my view before they lost control, but I knew they would be uncontrollably leaking as they scrambled down the stairs and into the yard. The blond card dealer didn’t even make it to the doorway; she left the table like lightening and sprinted towards the kitchen door, but she slipped in a wet patch on the carpet and fell sprawling on her stomach. She looked at me with eyes wide and full of panic as she reached towards the zipper on her jeans and began struggling to get it down. Lying on her stomach made this quite difficult, but rolling onto her back was the last action she took dry. The urgency quickly faded from her movements, and she gave up altogether with her zipper only halfway down. Our eyes met for a few moments as the carpet below her faded to a darker shade, but then she cast an arm over her face, blocking her eyes.

Back at the card table, the pink-slippered girl was miraculously still in control, despite the continuous string of spurts she was letting out to relieve the pressure. However, the girl on her lap had evidently just reached the breaking point. She was heavily intoxicated and sitting on her friend’s lap reminded her too greatly of sitting on a toilet; that thought was all it took for her to let Maltepe Rus Escort go. A downpour of pee inundated her shorts and filled her friend’s mostly-dry lap.

The girl beneath her was technically safe and probably could have held on, but she had just intentionally started to release another short burst when pee started flooding in from above. The liquid flooding her navel was warm and tickled slightly as it ran over her belly and into the cleft between her legs. She struggled to regain control of her own burst, but the pee felt so nice and warm, and she was tired of trying. Moments later, her own torrent joined that of her friend.

Across the table from the pair, the girl sitting on her boyfriend’s lap went wide-eyed as she observed the chaos erupting around her, but her expression was one of amusement rather than fear. She lived at this house and had already changed into her fuzzy blue pajamas for the evening. Locking lips with her boyfriend, she began vigorously rubbing herself against his crotch as she let nature take its course. She held nothing back, and within moments both were soaked from the waist down.

Looking through the doorway to the kitchen, I saw one ingenious girl hop up and sit over the sink. She flipped on the faucet and started rinsing her beer cup even as she lost control over the sink. She didn’t even stop talking to the three boys standing around her, and they were none the wiser to the fact that she was pissing uncontrollably in her clothes as she talked to them.


Beyond my visual awareness, a girl in a dark upstairs bedroom gyrated her naked hips frantically around a hard dick buried deep within her. Passion, heat and more than a few drinks filled the couple completely. Several minutes ago, she had felt a nagging urge to pee, but right now she cared far more about fucking the stud below her than using the bathroom; going to the bathroom could wait until they finished, she told herself. So, she had totally dismissed the urge to go as only a drunk person can; just as she and the boy, who she had met earlier that night, had dismissed using a condom once a five second search of his wallet had failed to locate one. Instead, they had agreed that he would warn her in time to dismount before he came.

At the ten minute mark her bladder began releasing its contents, ignorant of her desire to wait until she finished. A moment of sobriety accompanied its release, and the girl realized that piss, her piss, was now flooding past the boy’s cock and onto his groin. Thinking quickly, she began faking an orgasm. Leaning back on her hands she moaned loudly, closed her eyes and began shaking her whole body; hopefully the boy would buy her deception.

In fact, he did; and her shivering body coupled with the feeling of her hot liquid rushing past his cock sent him over the edge instantly. He came immediately and uncontrollably with his shaft still sunk deep.

Still occupied with faking an orgasm and struggling to regain control of her bladder, the girl didn’t even notice. When she finished, the boy quickly sat up, pushed her onto her back and kissed her. He immediately offered to eat her out. She laughed silently and agreed, knowing that he would be licking up her piss, but he too was laughing inside, because it would allow him to destroy the evidence and prevent her from realizing what had really transpired. But neither would be laughing in a few weeks.


In the great room, the caps player still stood outside the bathroom door. Throughout the ordeal she had managed to maintain as much control over her bladder as physically possible. She had never lost control outright, but had been slowly and continuously dripping for the past minute. Her panties were soaked, her skirt was soaked, her hands were soaked, her legs were soaked, her feet and shoes were soaked, and the floor was soaked; but she willfully ignored this as she continued to try to hold the leak to a trickle.

Beside me, I heard a faint hissing noise and looked down at my still-unconscious girlfriend. I jammed my hands beneath the elastic of her pants and slipped my fingers into her panties. They encountered a warm spray that saturated first her panties, then her pants, and then the couch upon which we sat. I played with her idly as she emptied the entire contents of her bladder without regaining consciousness.

A peaceful, relieved smile adorned her face as I picked her up and walked through the chaos in the house towards the door. On my way out, I walked past the girl with the green cup, who, upon seeing so many people lose control, had decided to let the rest out right where she stood. I stepped delicately around the puddle surrounding her on my way out. My girlfriend and I reached the door, then descended the steps to the street below and faded into the darkness in the direction of my apartment.

Bir cevap yazın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak.

kocaeli escort ümraniye escort izmir escort izmir escort izmir escort bakırköy escort şişli escort istanbul travesti istanbul travesti istanbul travesti ankara travesti yenibosna escort mecidiyeköy escort şişli escort bakırköy escort beşiktaş escort görükle escort bayan porno izle görükle escort bayan bursa anal yapan escort bursa escort bursa escort bursa escort bursa escort istanbul travestileri istanbul travestileri ankara travestileri ankara travesti linkegit şişli escort sex izle brazzers rokettube Anadolu Yakası Escort Kartal escort Kurtköy escort Maltepe escort Pendik escort Kartal escort Escort ankara Ankara escort bayan Ankara rus escort Eryaman escort bayan Etlik escort bayan Ankara escort bayan Escort sincan Escort çankaya demetevler escort etimesgut escort keçiören escort eryaman escort taksim escort hurilerim.com Antalya Escort Alanya Escort Antalya Merkez Escort Antalya Otele Gelen Escort Antalya Rus Escort Belek Escort Fethiye Escort Kemer Escort Kepez Escort Konyaaltı Escort çankaya escort keçiören escort Antalya escort Escort bayan Escort bayan bahisu.com girisbahis.com Escort escort escort escort travestileri travestileri escort porno izle porno izle beylikdüzü escort kuşadası escort bayan antalya rus escort bonus veren siteler bornova escort balçova escort mersin escort Hacklink Hacklink panel Hacklink