Chapter 2:
"Ugh," Sam exclaimed, as the last vestiges of blessed unconsciousness faded.
The sun was peeking around the edges of her pull-down blind, and as she rubbed her eyes, she tossed the sheets aside with her feet. Looking down at her nude body, perky tits and smooth shaven pussy, firm and toned stomach, long, smooth legs, she smiled. She stretched and scratched at the side of one of her breasts, then sat up, swinging those legs over the side of the bed.
She had found that burger joint, a late night diner not two blocks from the college, that had been mostly empty and with a cute as hell girl behind the till. She had stared at the tight ass of that eighteen year old with fiery red hair the whole time she had been devouring what they called "The Monster," a double patty cheese and bacon burger with fried onion rings, pickles, coleslaw, and a bunch of other things. She had washed it down with a decently good homemade soda that the diner served, but when the bill came, she had smiled even wider.
I think you're cute too, my cute ass-admirer
.
So, as she stood and started to do her limbering stretches, she couldn't help but feel her slit get a little wet as she imagined what tugging all the clothes off of Maggie the Diner Girl would be like Wednesday night, when they had set their date.
As she bent over, she felt more than heard a little fart escape, causing her to grin. It had been almost a year since she had released onto someone, the last time being a fellow Navy girl she had gone on liberty with. They had sworn secrecy, and Sam had even let the girl piss on her shirt first, sticking the thin white fabric to her bra-less breasts, letting the warm liquid pool in her mouth before she swallowed the sweet tasting piss.
At the thought, Sam's bladder cramped slightly, and she moaned in a low, sensual tone.
"Fuck, Sam," she whispered, running her hands up her legs as she stood, tracing the outline of her labia. "You and your nasty, piss filled cunt."
Her bladder twitched in response, and she sucked in a little pant of air as she ran a finger over her clit, pressing it slightly. She sat back down on the edge of the bed, leaning back and holding herself up on an elbow as she lifted both legs up, bracing her feet on the bedframe as she spread her knees as far apart as she dare without letting her bladder go.
Sam gasped and closed her eyes as she rubbed at her clit, her finger moving faster and faster over the nub as her bladder began to beg for release. She tensed her stomach and pelvic floor, at the same time pushing on her bladder as well as squeezing her urethra closed. She felt the pressure build as she took her whole hand and rubbed across her clit furiously, slicking her skin on the creamy wetness that was seeping from her.
She started to pant, gasping as the waves of pleasure soared through her nerves, causing her to shiver with the joy of it. It had been so long since her last proper release, and she threw her head back, gritting her teeth as she fought to hold off the rising temperature inside her, the wave after wave of pleasure demanding a release, the thought of standing, as naked as she was now, over Maggie the Diner Girl, pissing on her cute little diner uniform as she kissed and licked her way up her inner thigh before looking up at her, smiling, as her tongue plunged into her wetness...
"OhmyGAWD!" Sam bit her lip to stop from screaming it too loudly, but suddenly her entire body tensed, then it felt like every muscle in her cramped all at once as her clit sent out a nuclear blast of pleasure. She flopped back on the bed, back arched, pelvis thrusting hard into the air as she released, a little squirt of wetness splashing out across the floor as she opened her mouth to scream, but only a high pitched squeal emerged.
She shuddered, her muscles spasming on their own as she moaned loudly, her legs seeming to lose all energy, her feet slipping off the bedframe to crash on the floor. She squirted again, not sure if it was her cumming or if it was piss, and at the moment, it didn't matter. All she could think about was Maggie, furiously fingering her pussy, kissing her deeply, her free hand cupping and massaging at Sam's breasts, her hot, wet breath against her neck as she nuzzled and kissed.
"...F.... FUCK!" Sam finally screamed, a second wave of the orgasm ripping through her, and this time she knew that she was losing control of her bladder. She grabbed her water glass from the small end table of the bed, and put it between her legs just in time as she came again, squirting yellow piss into the glass. Her eyes almost rolled back as she lost control, and the sound of a glass filling with liquid sent her over the edge again, her nerves by this point so on fire with pleasure that she nearly dropped the glass. She thanked whatever administrator had decided to leave the floors as nicely laminated concrete, as she just about managed to set the glass down before she slipped forwards off the bed, spreading her knees, her labia with two fingers, and tossed her head back as she simply released.
The warmth of her urine around her feet, the sound of it splattering off the floor and the sound of water hitting water sent another shock through her nerves, so much so that she cried out in pleasure again, gasping in joy. She sat there until her bladder was empty, the last dribble escaping her soaked pussy before she fell forwards onto her knees, landing in the decent puddle she had made. She breathed hard, gulping air as if she had been swimming on the bottom of the ocean and had just surfaced.
She smelled the slightly acidic but sweetly sick smell of her piss, licking her lips at the thought of dominating someone with it again someday. Opening her eyes, she picked up the glass of piss, still as warm as her body, and with a smile brought it to her lips. She winced, as she always did, at the first taste, which was always a touch sour, but soon her urine was washing down her throat as she tilted the glass more, swallowing her liquid waste. She finished it off, licking her lips, before she slumped down, a shiver of aftergasm passing through her.
With a sigh, she slapped her stomach lightly, and after a moment, belched. She wanted to lie down in her piss, roll around it in, wash it over her body, but she knew that if it stayed around much longer it would start to leave behind a smell, so with a heaved sigh, she stood, let out another long, wet-sounding burp with a smile, then trotted out to the bathroom and grabbed the paper towels and mop from behind the door.
She smiled in a warm glow as she got to work, the release of finally having an orgasm after a week filling her with a wild energy. She started to sing and dance as she cleaned, doing a pirouette with the mop after soaking up as much piss as she could, dancing to the bathroom and washing it out under the bathtub tap. She did a dirty dancing slide back out into the common area, doing a bad attempt at a moonwalk back into her room, sliding down to her knees in the last bit of her piss, wailing on an air guitar before wiping up the last of her mess with paper towels.
She showered with the mop in the tub, continuing to sing with renewed energy, going down a list of her favorite songs that she at least knew the words to. After scrubbing, she worked away on her hair, making a shampoo mohawk and giggling as she washed it out.
As she let the hot water course down her face as she got out a gentle scrubber and exfoliated it, the only thing that could lift her mood any higher would be to actually fuck a girl, either with her fingers or with her feeldo. She smirked at the thought, planning on making Maggie that girl as soon as possible, especially in that 1950s lesbian-radar hit of a diner uniform, with the cute little white serving apron...
After toweling off, including making sure she dried between her legs, she quickly styled her hair, needing only a tiny bit of mousse to give it a little bounce, before dancing, nude and warm, back into her room to dress for the day. With it being early in the morning, she was going to go explore Atlanta, finally, and checking the forecast, she chose her knee high chunky heeled goth boots under jeans with fashionably torn holes over the thighs and knees, a loose, metal band t-shirt, with her leather half jacket, which only reached her mid-back, over top and undone.
One of the things she loved about having jeans was that she actually had pockets, slipping her smokes, with the lighter in the pack, in one front pocket, her phone in the other, and her wallet on a chain in her right ass pocket. She picked out her spike-studded belt, slipping it through the wallet chain strap, and did it up loosely.
A quick line of eyeliner on both bottom and top, a light, almost pink skin-tone lipstick, a touch of gloss, and one brush of blue-purple eyeshadow that teased, but didn't shout, and she cocked her hip at herself in the bathroom mirror.
"You're one badass bitch," she smiled to herself, before grabbing her keys off the sink counter and dancing out the door, still bopping along in her head to her favorite songs.
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It had been an eventful day.
Sam smiled as she rode in the back of the bus that was headed back to the college. The sun was still up, it was still a warm afternoon, but a breeze was now blowing in from the Gulf, warm and humid, perfect for a country girl like her. She had a little giggle at herself, imagining herself redheaded, freckled, leaning against a handmade wood farm fence in tight jeans, a tied off plaid shirt, a cowboy hat with a stalk of wheat in her mouth. Of course, being her, she couldn't imagine cowboy boots, so substituted her chunky knee highs that she wiggled her feet in.
Looking back over the day, she had visited a couple of museums, found a nice little spot in Western Atlanta, about a 20 minute bus ride from the college according to her phone, where there were little cafes and a couple bistros, perfect for a noon iced coffee and muffin. Of course, the coffee was doing its usual thing to her stomach, the gurgle in her intestines bringing a slightly twisted smile to her face, happy memories floating in her mind of naked men and women under her ass as she vacated those same bowels.
She had visited the Delta Flight Museum, after serving in the Navy and having seen F-18's flying CAP the one time when the missile destroyer she had been on had worked with one of the supercarriers. It was more civilian oriented, but was still quite interesting and she had learned a few things along the way.
Afterwards, she had wandered around, guided by the little "Get To Know Atlanta!" webpage she had found a couple of weeks ago. Dressed as she was, she had garnered quite a lot of male attention, but she had simply ignored them. She had received a very appreciative look from a woman at a construction site that had been built like a brick shithouse and had a tight, definitely lesbian haircut, and she had
accidentally
