Pete's heart was racing. He had not felt this thrill and overwhelming enthralment of sexual excitement since early teenage exploration of his burgeoning but as then unrequited sexuality. Adrenalin was coursing through his veins, his heightened state causing his hands to shake involuntarily as they cupped the young woman's' buttocks through her cotton panties.
Pete was now 50 years old. Looking good and young for his age, and with a pleasant affable character he had never in his adult life gone short of female companions and sexual activity, he was a competent and adventurous lover and indulged in just about everything a consenting, and sometimes (willingly) unconsenting, man and woman could do, but one indulgence had always eluded his experience.
Pete had grown to crave this more and more as time passed and today, this evening, at this very moment he was on the cusp of realising a fantasy, a want, a need that had eaten at him for many years.
It was a sultry warm summers evening, the first hints of dusk suffusing the sky with ocherous beauty. The scent of wild flowers in the hay meadow had risen to embrace Pete's senses as he had knelt down before the young woman as she approached him.
As she drew closer she was hitching up her skirt revealing the soft flesh of her thighs and the lacy cotton panties that covered her femininity. Pete watched in intoxicated anticipation.
She still advanced, with a languorous, voluptuous grace, until the crotch of her cotton panties touched lightly upon his upturned mouth. Pete's trembling hands rose to cup her buttocks to pull and hold her close to him.
Although the lightest of touches, through the fresh cotton Pete could sense the delicious musk of her womanhood, separated from his mouth by only a few atoms of air and filaments of cotton. In that moment of anticipation, the moments before the realisation of a desire so long in the waiting, time seemed to stand still and Pete's mind recalled the beginnings of his need for this experience.
Pete was back, at that moment in his childhood. A time of naivety, constant erections and no experience. He stood in transfixed bewilderment and not a little sense of revulsion at the red raw open gash of the woman's vagina as it pushed forward from the page of the magazine he had just found under the bridge on the abandoned railway, upwards, lunging towards his face. Matted in long black hairs, it was wet and dripping.
Page after page of raw cunts like open wounds. These were no fashion models, or latter day porn stars, these were real women, wives, girlfriends, exhibitionists, sluts, most not particularly good looking, but real. Real breasts, real skin, spots, moles birth marks, stretch marks, and very real natural, wet, open cunts. To Pete, who had never seen a woman's parts like this before it was a baptism of fire, a shocking baptism, scary, revolting but at the same time a throbbing erection revealing and betraying an innate inner fascination that compelled him to turn each page, and, then, read.
If Pete's introduction to the engorged and ready vagina was not shocking enough, the accompanying stories were more so.
This edition of the unknown magazine; the front and back covers were missing, was devoted to the erotic enjoyment of pissing. Stories of deliberate desperation, couples peeing on each other, peeing in inappropriate places, wetting oneself, and most shocking; drinking pee.
Every day Pete would return to find the magazine he had hidden away secretly for only he to find, and each day as he read more and more, revulsion gave way to acceptance, familiarisation and growing arousal. True understanding however was still latent in his immaturity but seeds had been sown. Seeds that would lay dormant for several years, but biding their time in Pete's subconscious awaiting the sexual maturity that would bring true understanding.
Eventually seeds germinate, as seeds do.
Sexual experience became a reality in his life, and Pete developed a love for sex, women, the female form and the vagina that became deep rooted. Pete was an intelligent sexual guy and developed an advanced appreciation of the mind and eroticism that few girlfriends were uninhibited enough to equal but of those that were, sex was long lasting, boundary pushing and mind blowing. And yet, throughout the years no female had either been capable of understanding his desire to hold their vulva to his mouth and allow him to take their pee into himself or for some reason incapable of actually doing it. Frustration became disappointment that became acceptance that perhaps this was a fantasy that would always remain just that. A fantasy.
