MY JEAN
BillyG (hayden@mindless.com)
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Chapter 6 -- My Wet
It's ironic. The things I want the most seem never
to go the way I want. I scheme and plan and try to manipulate
people, places and things to get my way. It rarely works.
Nevertheless, I keep trying. I think of it as adding to the
keenness of my anticipation. And it does. I've learned not to
take myself too seriously when I don't get what I want. Most of
the time, what I eventually get is better than I might have
planned and often better than what I might have imagined.
That's the way it was working out with my sister,
Jean. Yet, I didn't really see it happening. I'd become
increasingly aware of her as a sexy girl. Actually that's an
understatement. What I should admit is that I'd grown infatuated
with her. I'd always cared for her deeply and we were both
aware of a spiritual connection. Neither of us was completely at
ease with our own sensuality. Sex remained a titillating and
excitingly naughty topic. That discomfort, however, was rapidly
changing.
Our sibling connection was tender and loving. At
base, that tender connection was always operative, even when we
were at odds. Clearly, we cared deeply for each other, but
because she was so proper and reserved, I'd assumed that she had
no sexual feelings at all. But in the past weeks, I'd come to
know that wasn't the case. Not even close.
For example, not long previously, I'd humped myself
to orgasm on the edge of the laundry room table just looking
down the front of her shirt. While I had planned to confront her
with her soiled my "clever" way of introducing the topic
of sex I'd not planned on rubbing myself of on the hard edge of
the table. And despite the fact that she *knew* what I was
doing. Or was it *because* she was knew that made it so
exciting?
A little later, in a sexual heat, we'd exposed ourselves
to each other on the living room couch as we were "talking
dirty." We shared a mutual culpability for our couch incident,
but again, it was not my intention to myself and her
by slapping her clit with my hard cock. It'd just happened in a
spontaneous fashion, both of us caught up in the compelling
sexual heat both surprised, turned-on and both, completely
helpless. Swept along by a current whose strength tossed us
about in a sexual typhoon, we had both come together. And again,
frightened by the ferocity of it all, we'd retreated to the
familiar safety of silence.
And most recently, this morning unexpected and unplanned,
out of nowhere she'd fulfilled a long fantasy of mine by letting
me watch her pee.
For months and months I'd been trying to get her to
"talk dirty" with me . . . to share her own sexual stuff with me.
Yet, I'd had limited success until today, until we were riding
home from our back-packing weekend. Now the established reserves
had been broached. To say the was out of the bag hardly lent
it sufficient impact. More accurately, we both knew that barriers were down and they'd not be erected again. Still, we
were uncertain how to move with comfort into this newly open
intimacy.
From the silence of our mutual protection, we'd broken
out of years of restriction and restraint. This wasn't the
naughty, snickery type of
you-show-me-yours-and-I'll-show-you-mine conversation that I'd
angled for. This was dealing with real stuff. I was dazzled.
Jean had shared with me some of her "deep dark
secrets" and I'd shared similarly . . . or started to. And she
wanted more. She knew of my and she'd admitted she
had one too. It was plain that we'd only continue in a step-wise
manner with each of us validating the other with our honesty. If
I wanted Jean's truth, I'd have to give her mine.
"Jean, I love this. I love being able to be so open
with you."
"Yes. It's like when we were on the couch . . . only
more so . . . remember? Just talking with you like that . . . I
got so hot then I didn't know what I was doing."
When we'd parked at the Rest Stop, she'd taken her
hands out of her pants, looking around, surprised that we had
stopped. Seeing that no one was even close to us, she relaxed
again, leaning back.
"Where are we? Why'd we stop?"
I explained, "It was getting too difficult for me to
keep my eyes on the road. Between listening to you talk about
peeing, and watching your hands in your pants, I had little
attention for driving. We've got all the time we want. I'd much
rather stop and talk. This way I can give you all my attention.
I can see your eyes . . . and," I added with a leer, "your
hands."
"Then look at me, you lecher. I can't believe my kid
makes me so horny, just by talking to me. You're doing
the couch thing all over again, you little devil."
"Are you complaining?" I asked, while laying my left
ankle over her right leg in front of the center console.
"Nope. Just letting you know that you have that
effect on me. Hope you enjoy it, lecher."
"You know I do, you harlot. And speaking of
harlots, where were we? Oh, yes. We were talking about and I was . . ."
Interrupting, "You were going to tell me your most
secret fantasies, Billy. You were saying you wanted me to on
you. Remember?"
"Jean, it's more than just that. I think of other
things situations . . . having to do with . . . or needing
to . . . and you can't. That excites me. Know what I mean?"
"No-o-o . . ." She *sounded* more uncertain than she
really was, I think. "No, I don't know. Tell me what you mean."
Her right hand was slipping into the top of her open
shorts, the fingers under the waistband of her panties.
"Two can play that game," I countered, as I slowly
began to unbutton my jeans.
Impatiently, "Yeah, yeah, yeah . . . but I *still*
want to hear those secrets. 'Specially if they're about peeing.
And what do you mean 'needing to pee, and can't'?"
I loved it when she kept after me, *making* me tell
her my kinky stuff.
"Oh *you* remember, Sis . . . how could you forget?
Think back to the trip that you and me and made to the Farm.
Remember, we'd been driving for several hours after downing a
couple of Cokes . . . remember how hot it was? You all kid me
about my micro bladder, so I never gave it a thought when I had
to get out and take a leak and you all didn't. along the
road's no big deal for a guy."
With a throaty laugh, she said, "Sure I do. and
I just looked at each other when we heard you on the road.
We had to go then, but we couldn't say anything . . . or at least
I couldn't. I don't think it embarrasses at all."
"I remember smiling back at when she said to me,
'You lucky stiff.' It was about then that I caught on that you
two were starting to feel your full bladders. And it was
then that I decided to play a little game. I was going to make
you wait and wait to pee."
"I sure remember that trip, but I didn't know you
were playing a game. What'd you do?"
Smugly, "You never pay much attention to roads or
which way we go, or where things are. You just ride along and
enjoy yourself. Mom's the same way. So I decided to not only
take a longer way, but to take the route with no rest stops or
gas stations."
"Why you little shit, you! I just thought we had bad
luck. That you got to take a leak and we needed to go, and there
were just no places to go. I thought it was an accident. You
mean . . . ?"
"Yep. That's what I mean, girl. I wanted to see you
two women squirm a little. You're always kidding me that I
can't wait so I wanted to see how well you could wait. Besides,
I think it's sexy . . . seeing you and squirm around, and
then cross your legs."
"Billy, I don't know whether to laugh or get mad. At
the time, I would have given anything to squat and take a good
pee. My back teeth were floating. And you kept saying that it'd
just be a little further. You rat!"
"I *loved* it, Sis. You were squirming around in the
front seat and was shifting back and forth right behind us.
At least she was able to ask me to look out for a gas station,
that she had to something bad. You just pretended that
everything was OK . . . at least for a little while. Sis, you are
*so* hip, slick and cool! Then it began to really get to you,
and I enjoyed thinking of you, needing to pee. Don't understand
it, my dear sister, but there's something terribly erotic about
that. I mean, I got hard just thinking about you and Mom."
"More is coming back to me. I remember how *bad* I had
to go. I remember two things, actually. One was the fear that
I'd lose it, that I'd leak into my panties. The second was the
burning sensation in my . . . well, in my . . . kinda good
actually. Actually, kinda erotic."
"Well, I guess I can confess now, Sis. My fantasy was
that you'd not be able to hold it. I could see you in my mind's
eye, dribbling a little into your panties, whimpering, bent
over, hugging yourself with your legs crossed. You know how
fantasies are . . . I was right there . . . I mean my eyes were
inches from your and I could see you clench your cheeks
trying to hold it in . . . and I could see the dribble out,
wetting your hair and your panties."
"You mean you *wanted* me to in my panties?" She
sounded incredulous, but she didn't look it, as she smiled at me,
one eyebrow arched.
"Not really . . . well, yes . . . really. My fantasies
don't always make sense, but the idea of you in your
panties, seeing it run down your legs, just jolts me. I'd like
to stand in front of you as you were losing it, and then run my
hand up under your dress and cup the crotch of your and
feel your hot running over my palm . . . those kinds of
images. Kinky, huh?"
"Kinky, yes. But now that I know . . . well, I like it
too. It sure got to and me that day. I don't know how she
feels about it, but do you recall what happened when we finally
got to the Farm?"
"Probably more than you know." I paused, recalling the
scene. "You and both jumped out of the car and raced for the
house. I knew there was only one bathroom in that house and
I didn't know what you were gonna do . . . who'd have to wait.
You two were too panicked to notice, but I followed right behind
you . . . right to the bathroom."
"Oh, God. I remember. I'd beaten to the toilet,
but as I was pushing my shorts and down, she said, 'I'm
your mother! I go first,' and she just pushed me right out of
the way! There I was, dying to pee, standing in front of like some little girl, waiting for her to finish . . . and afraid
I was going to lose it."
As she was recalling the memory, I'd slipped my cock
out of my jeans and was sitting back, holding it and covering it
at the same time as I slowly stroked it up and down.
Nodding toward my hand, Jean said, "That gets me hot, bro."
Not acknowledging her reference to my masturbation, I
continued, "When the two of you dashed in there, you slammed the
door, but it didn't shut all the way . . . musta bounced or
somthin'. I couldn't see you but I sure could hear you. I
heard Mom's hissing and you whimpering, 'Hurry . . . hurry .
. . I gotta go too.'"
"God what a rat you are! I can't believe you . . . you
pervert. You sadist. And your own too! They've got a
name for like you, bro."
"You asked for it," I defended myself. "'Sides, you're
just as bad as me."
"I know. I *am* and it surprises me, but it feels too
good to stop." Then she added, "If you were right outside the
door, you must have known what happened, huh?"
"I think so. It sounded like finished and you
bumped into her or something like that . . . trying to get to the
toilet. And then I heard you cry out, 'Oh . . . I can't hold
it.' And laughed and then you almost cried, 'It's not
*funny*, Mom!' In my imagination, I thought that you'd peed on
yourself or something like that."
"That's exactly what happened. I was just dying. took for-EVER. Why she even wanted to wipe herself! The sound
of her going just loosened me up. Like running the faucet for a
little kid. My muscles weren't working anymore. I knew I was
relaxing and that I was gonna on myself and there wasn't
anything I could do about it. I kept bumping into trying to
get to the toilet. Cripes, it was a fire drill. She
moved one way and I moved the same way, back and forth, back and
forth. My darn shorts and were down around my knees and I
couldn't take a big step. bumped into me again by then she
was laughing at me and I just lost it. I started to right
there, bent over, stumbling for the john. Billy, it was awful .
. . and at the same time, it was wonderful. I peed all over my
and all over my legs and the floor and the seat,
frantically trying to plop my fanny down. Then it really opened
up. I think I peed a gallon. I remember sitting there, knees
together, looking at my wet and legs and then looking at
as I peed and peed. I was so embarrassed. Did you hear her
when she said something like, 'Feels good, huh?'"
"Yeah. I think she said, "Jean, I *know* how good that
feels."
"Whatever . . . but I think she liked it too. Tho she
never said anything."
"All this talk of . . . and I haven't gone since
this morning. How about you?"
"I *knew* you were working up to this. Yeah, I need to
pee, now more than ever . . . but I'll hold it just a little
longer. How 'bout you?"
"Me too. Then when you *have* to go, I'll be there to
help you."
"Billy, I just know what kind of help you have in mind
. . . the same kind I do."
"Let me tell you what I'm thinking, girl. We *could*
go into the rest rooms, but what a waste. I've got another
idea."
Jean slipped her hand out of her shorts, leaned over
and ran her wet finger under my nose. She stared right into my
eyes and again ran the wet tip of her tongue over her partially
open lips. The same intoxicating odor of her filled my
senses. I closed my eyes and slowly sniffed in, making a moaning
sound of appreciation.
"Lecher! she accused, and then asked, "What's your idea
. . . if I dare ask?"
"I was thinking. How about if we walk over to those
picnic benches and you straddle my lap? No one's around. Don't
tell me when you're gonna start, but surprise me . . . just let
it go . . . right through your and through your
shorts and into my lap? I really love that."
"Brother dear, you've just been reading my mind. Right
this minute I'm hotter than can be and I've got a full bladder
and the idea of my panties, right into your lap actually
all over your cock that just get's me wet. Yes, let's do it . .
. and right now!"
Jean, when suddenly moved to action, is nothing if not
decisive. Not waiting for further discussion, she slipped out of
the Scout, buttoning her pants and walking off. I followed her
out the other door, frantically trying to jam my hard dick back
into my tight jeans
"Don't start without me!" I shouted after her.
"Get'cher buns over here, guy and sit right down . . .
right here," gesturing to a picnic bench facing away from the
parking area.
I sat with my butt on the edge of the picnic bench.
Jean looked around one more time before swinging her leg over
mine and squatted on my thighs, facing me. Her eyes were
sparkling as she gave me a wicked grin.
"There're some people right over there, Billy. Do ya
suppose they know what we're doin'?"
Without looking, I said, "Yes. They know *exactly*
what you're doing, Jean. They know you're a naughty little with a full bladder who can't make it to the and who's
gonna on her brother's lap . . . don't they?"
"Christ, you're a tease, guy. I pity your friend
. . . *when* you get one."
She hadn't waited long. I could see the change in her
eyes, the relaxation in her face. (Some surprise.) She fell
silent and looked into my eyes as long as she could, then dropped
her head into the corner of my neck and shoulder. Her hips seemed
to settle as she gave a soft moan. I could feel the heat and the
wetness spreading, at first right in my crotch and then
spreading. It was happening! My was on me, right
through her panties. I held her ass around her hips as she peed.
My mind was dizzy . . . drunk with passion. My
wonderful, sweet Jean was sitting on my lap, straddling
me, in the open and all over herself and all over me . . .
all over my cock. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest
and, at the same time, my heart beat in my turgid dick. It
swelled and I felt a pulling passion within the core of my being.
With a groan of passion, I pulled her crotch right into my
belly and said, "God, Sis, I really wanna fuck you."
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