A Wet Summer

Brothers John and Drew had taken a week or so's holiday to go sea fishing on England's south coast, but after a few days being tossed about in the tiny tub they had managed to hire their stomachs demanded a reprieve. So the next day they took a holiday from their holiday.

At lunchtime they were in a bar, playing pool, drinking beer and wondering what to do with themselves for the rest of the day, with getting drunk so far topping of the list. Then, in through the door came two girls, one dark blonde and one brunette, both perhaps in their mid-twenties, a couple of years or so younger than the two men, and both stunningly attractive. Drew looked at John, John looked at Drew, they both looked at the girls, and the plan for the day was instantly adjusted. The girls went to the bar and ordered themselves a couple of beers, and the moment they spoke Drew knew just how to get into conversation.

'Hey.' He called. 'I recognise that accent, it's the same as mine.'

The girls looked, but didn't speak.

'You're from Mansfield, aren't you?'

'No.' replied the brunette. 'Blidworth.' She pronounced it "Blidath", and so confirmed her origins.

'Well, I wasn't so far off. I knew you were from my bit of Notts.'

The former mining area of North Nottinghamshire had a regional accent all of its own, varying slightly from town to town and owing its origins to both Yorkshire and Nottinghamshire, it was unmistakable to those who knew it.

'Where are you from, then?' Asked the blonde.

'Near Clipstone.' John answered her, naming their home less than ten miles away.

From then on the two pairs changed into two couples, with the blonde, Beth, kind of naturally gravitating towards John, and her friend, Michaela, known to everyone as 'Micky', linking up with Drew. Both girls were married, but that seemed to bother them about as much as the fact that they'd obviously already had a few drinks bothered John and Drew. It was soon pretty clear where things were headed, hands on knees and arms around waists made it obvious, and when eventually a walk along the beach was suggested, they all knew that it was to the sand dunes that they were really headed, and not for a walk. This, they intended, was to be a holiday romance of the more intimate kind.

After they had walked, or in Beth's case stumbled, far enough along the beach to be beyond the usual range of normal holidaymakers, John and Beth pointed out a hollow in the dunes.

'How about we stop for a rest?' John suggested, not meaning a rest at all.

Drew was about to accept when Micky stopped him. 'No, I think we'll leave you to it. I fancy somewhere a bit quieter, and anyway it gets grassier further on.'

Not wanting to spoil his chances if she was feeling shy, Drew quickly agreed.

'I don't want to get sand in it.' She told him as they walked on, her voice a little high pitched from the drink. 'It's like shagging sandpaper.'

With that very direct remark she dispelled any thought of her being shy, and if ever there was a doubt what she had in mind, that too disappeared at that moment. In any case it was a fact that the dunes were giving way to grassy mounds. Soon they had found a quiet spot in the lee of a large grass covered dune and they stopped and turned to face each other. This, they both knew was it, and they were both hot for it, but once again it was Micky who was the more direct of the two.

'Do you want to strip yourself off?' She asked, not that there was much to strip from either of them on this hot summer's day. 'Or shall we do each other?'

'Each other.' He told her. 'It gets more interesting.'

She giggled sexily at his remark and leaned forward to unbutton his summer shirt, almost pulling buttons off in her eagerness. The shirt was quickly removed and Micky reached for his belt.

'Hey, hold it.' He backed away grinning. 'My turn first.'

'Spoil sport.' She pouted good naturedly, holding up her arms for him to pull her top over her head.

Within seconds her top was on the grass with his shirt and Micky herself was reaching back to unhook her bra.

'I'm supposed to be doing that.' Drew complained.

'Yeah, but if you're anything like Darrell, we'll still be here when it's dark.' She told him, her unfastened bra hanging loose on her shoulders but still covering her striking breasts. 'He couldn't undo a zip without the instruction manual.'

Drew assumed that Darrell was her husband. He didn't ask. Instead he swept her bra from her shoulders and watched as she leaned forward to let it fall from her arms. Her exposed breasts were large and firm with long dark nipples, and a surge of desire shot through him as he saw them for the first time. His hand came up automatically to cup and fondle one, lifting its weight in his palm and causing Micky to back away this time, grinning and shaking her head.

'Not yet, cheeky.' She remonstrated. 'Be fair, there's nothing for me to grab hold of so far, is there?' She looked meaningfully at his crotch.

He let his hands hang by his sides and stood waiting for her to carry on where she left off with his belt, his head cocked to one side as if to ask 'what are you waiting for?' She was waiting for nothing. Moments later she was back to undoing his belt and then falling about laughing when his jeans refused to go over his shoes.

Feeling slightly ridiculous he knelt down to untie them, wearing just his shorts but with his jeans pooled around his ankles. For a moment Micky watched, but then she kicked off her own sandals, undid her jeans and slid them down her long shapely legs, walking them over her feet to stand waiting in the tiniest of white panties before he was done. Finally he managed to remove both shoes and jeans and stood up facing her, his rueful smile in contrast to her confidently teasing grin.

Now she stood in all her glory, except for the triangle of white material covering her pussy, and he could feel his cock stiffening at what he could see. Long slender legs supported a shapely sun-tanned body with full high breasts, a flat stomach and rounded butt. He licked suddenly dry lips, hardly able to take his eyes from her, and wanting badly to get her naked as quickly as possible.

'I think we'll do our own.' He remarked, indicating their final items of clothing and remembering the tangle he'd just been in.

'Okay.' She giggled and hooked her thumbs into her waistband. 'On the count of three?'

'On the count of three.' He agreed, hooking his own thumbs into his shorts.

They counted together, then at three they both slid their underwear down, she laughing once more as his very erect cock became caught in his waistband, only to leap free and stand there bouncing as he managed to disentangle it. It was not the most elegant of disrobing, and to add to his discomfort he realised that his beer was working its way through and he would soon need to empty his bladder.

'Hang on a minute.' He told her as she started to move towards him. 'I know it's bad timing, but I need to pee.'

'Not right now, you don't.' She told him, reaching for his cock. 'There's time enough after I've had a feel of this.'

'I'll have to go pretty soon.' He warned her, the immediate urgency giving way before the feel of a cool slim hand around his shaft.

'I know.' She replied, nodding. 'But in a minute, eh?'

He let her stroke his shaft, standing passively while she ran elegant fingers gently up and down his length, her grip just firm enough to provide pleasure without actually wanking him. He could stand that all day, but Micky soon had other things on her mind.

Without warning she suddenly dropped to her knees and closed her mouth over the head of his cock. He stood there frozen, torn between the urge to let her carry on and the knowledge that his need to pee would soon interrupt proceedings. Better to get that unseemly chore out of the way so that they could get down to the serious sex that she was obviously up for.

'Stop it, Micky. I have to pee.'

He made to pull away, but her hands clamped themselves around his behind and held him fast, pulling him closer rather than letting him go. He groaned with pleasure and gave up, at least for the moment.

For several minutes her just stood there, silently letting her suck him with her mouth sliding wetly up and down his shaft, but soon the urge to urinate became uncomfortable, so much so that it detracted from the pleasure he was receiving and his cock began to deflate. He put his hand on her forehead and reluctantly pushed her away.

'It's no good.' He told her, looking regretfully at the hand that she had fastened around him the moment her mouth had come free. 'I'm sorry, but I really have to pee. We can continue this afterwards but I've got to go.'

'Can I watch?' She asked, her fingers still wrapped around his cock.

It was not a question he had ever been asked before, although he knew that other girls had seen him, albeit not quite so deliberately. He frowned. 'I suppose so.'

Still gripping his shaft she turned his cock to the side, facing away from them. 'Go on then, do it.'

That was something he had not expected. 'I can't go with you holding it,' he objected.

'Why not? You do it while you're holding it.' She retorted. 'Anyway, I want to aim it. I've never aimed a man before, Darrell won't let me.'

He groaned. The need was now painfully urgent, and the idea of letting Micky hold his cock while he peed had a kind of weird attraction about it, but still he hesitated, especially with her still kneeling before him, her watching eyes only inches from his cock.

'Go on, let it go.' She encouraged him.

He didn't so much let it go as fail to stop it. He couldn't hold on any longer, the need was just too strong. Even so, he was surprised to hear Micky's hiss of anticipation when the first hesitant spurt leapt from his cock.

'That's right.' Her voice held pent up excitement.

Finally he surrendered and let his tentative spurt become first a stream and then a jet. Micky giggled, waving his cock from side to side and quickly squeezing his shaft so that his interrupted flow sprayed the grass with quick little bursts of piss.

'I can feel it going down your cock.' She announced, watching it carefully.

He nodded, his head dropping forward a little with relief at being able to finally empty his bladder, and also with a surprising amount of pleasure from letting Micky control his flow.

But then his spray caught her thigh, wetting the top of her folded leg, and although it was her own fault for waving his cock around his head jerked upright with apologetic embarrassment.

'Sorry.' He mumbled.

'Don't be.' She told him, very deliberately directing his jet onto her legs. 'I like it.'

He tried to pull back, more from instinct than anything, but she held him so tightly it his cock, still purposely making him piss on her legs.

'Don't stop me.' She pleaded breathlessly, her voice full of pent up pleasure, 'I often fantasize about this, but Darrell won't do it to me.'

Bugger Darrell he thought as he watched his piss flooding across her thighs and draining down between her legs. He was anxious initially about what was happening, but as an understanding came that she really did get a kick from it he began to realise that so did he - a heart thumping, cock hardening buzz from pissing on a girl. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever thought about doing such a thing, but it was wild, perverse, depraved even, and it was giving him the biggest turn on of his life.

She looked up at him, and then, with her eyes fixed on his and an excited smile on her face, she directed his piss up and down her body, hosing it over her breasts, her belly and even her shoulders, until finally closing her eyes, she guided him to pee in her face. At first she had her eyes and mouth closed, just letting his warm stream flood down her, running down over her neck, dripping from her chin and nipples, streaming down her belly and onto the grass. But as his torrent finally began to diminish, she opened both her eyes and her mouth, taking his weakening flow into her mouth, closing her lips over his shaft to make sure she got his few last dribbles. When he had finally finished she took his cock from her mouth and gazed at it as if in awe, watching as it twitched back to full erection.

She licked her lips and then, following his wondering eyes, she looked down at herself, at her skin shining wetly and at her dark bush spangled with bright droplets of urine.

'Oh my god.' She gasped finally. 'I finally did it.'

He smiled down at her, unsure how to answer, thrilled beyond measure but rocked by what he had just done.

'Did it bother you?' She asked, then looked at his steel hard cock and answered herself. 'No, I guess it worked for you too.'

'Yes.' He answered simply, 'It worked for me.'

'Lie down.' She commanded him suddenly, eagerly. 'I'm going to fuck you.'

'Yes.' He repeated, still overwhelmed by extent of his arousal.

He lay on his back on the grass, feeling wetness on his skin, knowing the reason why and not caring. Instead he flattened himself out on the damp grass, wanting the contact, so that only his erect cock stood vertically over his outstretched body.

She looked at him for a moment or two, making little animal noises in her throat, and then she scrambled hastily over to him, straddling him, lowering herself until the tip of his cock touched her pussy. Reaching down she took hold of him, guiding it to her entrance before plunging down to engulf him full length inside her.

'Fucking hell.' He couldn't prevent himself from swearing, the combined sensation of the shaft of his cock sliding into her hot passage while its base was pressed onto her cold and wet pubic hair was mind-blowing. He had never felt anything quite like it.

'Not fucking hell,' Micky giggled at him, rising up only to plunge back down onto him. 'It's fucking heaven.'

'Too fucking right.' He agreed staring up at a last drop of piss gathering on her nipple.

Several more times she moved up and down on him, smiling as he watched her breasts bounce, but then she carefully pulled back until only the tip of his cock was inside her and looked down at him with a look of intense concentration on her face.

'My turn.' She told him throatily, leaning back with her hands propping her from behind.

For a split second he wondered what she meant, but then even as he realised, her damn burst and a torrent of piss splashed across his belly. He gasped, partly in surprise, but mostly from the thrill of seeing her let loose over him, watching her stream gush from her urethra to flood across him.

'God, you're a kinky bastard.' He told her, grinning with excitement.

'Yeah, you and me both.' She answered in a voice tight with emotion.

Still pissing, she levered herself back upright and once more bounced on his cock, rising and falling even as she emptied her bladder over him. He watched, feeling her piss running down over his belly, down his sides, between his legs, wetting his balls as it ran onto the grass, hearing the wet squelching noise as she plunged down his shaft to jam two wet pubes together.

Eventually her bladder emptied and her flow petered out, but she still rammed herself up and down on him, her eyes closed now and her head tipped back as she enjoyed her wet fuck. He couldn't help it; he pushed up against her, thrusting up into her vagina in counterpoint to her plunges, enjoying her hot wet juices as well as her rapidly cooling piss. He could tell that both of them were close to coming.

It was one of those rare occasions when they came simultaneously, both reaching a climax at the very same moment. She slammed herself down on him, gasping loudly, grinding herself onto him as he thrust hard upwards, her passage contracting rhythmically on his cock and making the beautiful feeling of his cum spurting into her all the more extreme. She was cumming harder than she had thought possible, certainly harder than she ever had with her husband.

For Drew the feelings were equally intense. Each spurt of cum that he shot into her seemed to send another surge of pure pleasure rippling out from the base of his cock to the tips of his extremities. His hands reached out and grabbed at her thighs, fingers like claws biting into her legs. His back arched up and he groaned loudly, all his muscles tight from the power of his climax.

When it was done they stared at each other in amazement, but then Micky just flopped down on him, her still piss wet breasts feeling cool against him as she flattened herself on top of him, his softening cock still inside her. He could feel her heart hammering against his and hear her panting in his ear, matching the sounds that he knew he was making too. Finally she took a deep breath and raised herself enough to look into his face.

'I've never done that before.' She whispered breathlessly. 'I've wanted to, but never have.' She paused to lick her lips. 'I never knew it could feel so fucking awesome.'

'Me neither.' He grinned. 'Or I'd have tried it with someone before.'

'You didn't mind then?' She searched his face for the honest answer.

'Mind? I loved it.'

She smiled her relief and then, unexpectedly, she kissed him.

He could just about taste his piss on her mouth, but he didn't care. He kissed her back, enjoying their very first kiss after all that they had done together.

When their mouths came apart they looked at each other in a kind of silent contemplation, each wondering where they went from there, until Micky asked the question that had been forming in Drew's mind too.

'Can we meet again?' She asked. 'I mean, you don't live far from me, so can we get together when we get back home?'

'Oh yes.' He smiled, conscious that his cock had chosen that moment to slip wetly from her pussy. 'I'd like that.'

'You know I'm married, don't you?' She gazed down anxiously.

'I know, and I don't care.' He told her, adding as an afterthought. 'I'm not.'

She giggled, wriggling against him, sliding her piss wet body over his as she moaned expressively.

'And can we...?' She let the question tail off, knowing an explicit description wasn't needed. 'What do you think?'

'I think.' He told her. 'I think it's going to be a wet summer.'