Cassiopeia and Saoirse stood awkwardly in Cassiopeia's bathroom for a long moment. Cassiopeia took a breath to say something, and spoke at the same time as Saoirse. They both stopped.
"Wh-what were you going to say?" said Cassiopeia. Having just had several cups of tea, she was already desperate to pee. She wore a stretchy pair of jeans that snapped open in the crotch for emergencies, a blue and purple striped sweater over a tan thermal shirt, and a pair of warm socks. She'd glimpsed herself on the way in, and though she was paler than usual, her face was almost as red as her bright crimson irises. Her waist-length green hair was neatly braided and looped around her head, though she could feel it coming loose after wearing a hat over it for hours.
Saoirse mirrored Cassiopeia's nervousness, though she was better at hiding it. "You go first - you're my host here, after all." Saoirse was slightly taller than Cassiopeia with pale hair, matching catlike ears, and a fluffy knee-length white tail with faint orangey rings. Saoirse's clothes were ill-suited for the cold weather outside: a hoodie over a thin t-shirt, over faded khakis and sneakers.
"No, you go first, you're my guest," said Cassiopeia quickly.
"You seem nervous. You don't have to do this if you don't want to, Pia."
"I do want to," Cassiopeia took a deep breath. "I just...I'm not sure what to do."
"What are you comfortable with?" Saoirse asked, stripping off her hoodie and t-shirt, and tossing them toward the door. She wore a black bra underneath, and shed that too. Saoirse's body was pale, her hips were thin, and her breasts were small. She was looking Cassiopeia up and down too, her cheeks turning bright pink. "Kissing? Maybe you'd like to take off your clothes first?"
Cassiopeia took off her sweater and thermal shirt. She wasn't wearing anything underneath.
"No bra?" asked Saoirse, grinning. "I like it."
"I wear so many layers for work, it doesn't really matter," said Cassiopeia. Her stomach fluttered again and put pressure on her bladder.
"Would you be alright with marking me, Pia?" asked Saoirse.
"Wh-what's that?" Cassiopeia half-gasped.
"It's a Renoige thing. Basically, you pee on me." Saoirse approached Cassiopeia slowly, taking her hand and pulling her closer. "You're shaking."
"I'm about to wet myself," Cassiopeia gasped. Without speaking, Saoirse pulled Cassiopeia over to the toilet, sat down on it with her pants on, and patted her lap. Cassiopeia accepted the invitation and straddled her lap. The crotch of Cassiopeia's pants was damp and her bladder was painfully full, but she suddenly couldn't let go. She groaned in frustration and felt Saoirse's hand brush her hip.
"Pee shy?" Saoirse said quietly. Cassiopeia nodded. "I am too. Take your time. Until then..." Saoirse looked down. The way Cassiopeia was sitting revealed the snap buttons in the crotch of her jeans. Saoirse ran her finger over the seams, and Cassiopeia shivered. "That's an interesting modification. Did you get it done in town?"
"M-Miss May did it," stammered Cassiopeia. "She sews because nobody out here makes clothes for people with wings."
Saoirse frowned for a moment and looked up when she realized Cassiopeia was watching her. "Makes sense, I guess. she did a beautiful job - almost as beautiful as you."
Cassiopeia whimpered: when she woke up that morning, she'd had no idea she'd be starting off the weekend sitting on Saoirse's lap, topless and bursting to piss. The thought gave Cassiopeia butterflies in her stomach and caused her to leak. She found that she couldn't stop it and finally let go, flooding her pants with a loud, hissing flow. The heat from her urine soaked eagerly into her thighs, and she allowed herself a small moan of relief.
Saoirse put her arms around Cassiopeia's waist and nuzzled between her breasts.
