(This is a new story which continues a theme which has already cropped up elsewhere. I hope very much that you enjoy reading it as much as I have writing it. However if you're offended by bodily functions, please give it a miss as it won't be your thing.)
Adam cleared his plate, munching heartily on what remained of the crispy bacon and free range eggs which Barnaby had cooked him before leaving for the rugby club. Carefully placing his plate and cutlery in the dishwasher, he wondered what to do now that breakfast was over. It was ten thirty on a Sunday morning. With Barnaby at the rugby club and Anne at church, Adam had the house to himself for the first time since arriving the previous Friday evening.
Whatever else might have occurred to him, one thing was certain. Adam realised he needed to pee and pretty badly too. It wasn't altogether surprising as he'd not peed since nine the previous evening and his bladder had been steadily filling for thirteen and a half hours. Realising that he'd have to go sooner rather than later if an accident was to be avoided, Adam made his way up to the bathroom. Closing the door behind him, he decided locking it would be unnecessary as there was no one else in the house and he had the place to himself.
Pulling his briefs down, Adam released his firm, meaty, semi-erect cock, stood over the toilet bowl and began peeing in earnest. Damn, it felt good! Peeing always felt good but especially so when he'd not peed for several hours. In fact if the truth were to be told it made him feel rather horny. Anne had voiced no concern about the fact that he hadn't 'been' before retiring at eleven fifty the previous night, and he'd subsequently made the chance discovery that his bed was actually protected with a waterproof mattress protector. Obviously she'd been prepared for the possibility that he might unload his bladder (either deliberately or accidentally) between the sheets and she clearly had a liberal approach to toileting, although given the revelations of the previous day it perhaps wasn't entirely surprising. Although Adam wasn't a bedwetter he was glad to know that Anne clearly had a relaxed attitude to such things and he wondered whether Barnaby's bed was similarly protected – particularly in view of his interests. Or, for that matter, Anne and Brian's bed. Whilst he was indeed curious, he'd not yet had an opportunity to investigate.
As Adam's strong, forceful pee subsided to a trickle before eventually stopping, he glanced to one side and spotted a pair of black tights hanging by the bath taps. He concluded that unless Barnaby had transvestite instincts which, for a rugby player he very much doubted, they must belong to Anne. After all, she was the only woman in the house. Adam's mind turned back to the events of the previous day. He remembered the conversation he'd had with Anne at the coffee house in Woodchester as she consumed a large pot of tea and the willingness with which she'd opened up to him about what was clearly an important part of her sexuality. What she'd said about discovering the freedom to relieve herself when she wanted rather than necessarily she needed or other people thought she should go, came back to him. He remembered cumming in his pants without touching himself – for the first time ever. Memories came flooding back of the way she teased him, holding herself and refusing to go to the loo despite clearly needing to. What he remembered most vividly of all though was the way she'd defiantly peed her jeans whilst driving back from Woodchester, relishing the warm wetness of her sodden state. Although he'd have liked to see the football, Adam's first duty on getting back had been to keep an appointment with the large box of tissues in his bedroom. He'd been unable to wait a moment longer. Listening intently as Anne had busily showered in the adjacent bathroom, he'd rogered himself frantically until another blast of hot sticky cum spurted uncontrollably from his urethra. Overnight Adam had masturbated yet again, recalling the experience of being teased by a hot woman who clearly had no inhibitions about peeing her pants.
And now, here he was, unbearably horny thanks to his big piss, and alone with those very tights that he had seen receiving a glorious soaking only the previous day, now within arm's length. His mind raced for a few moments. He knew he had enough time to weigh up the situation and yet he couldn't take it all in. His heart beating three times its normal rate, he pondered whether he would be able to look her in the eye again if he did do the deed. After about 10 minutes, he decided that he would feel, but not sniff. So, he reached for them. Immediately, he noticed how damp they were.
Then, as if on a new drug, he couldn't help himself and yielded to the urge to sniff them. Pressing them to his nose he detected a hint of Anne's perfume. Stronger still though was the definite smell of pee which emanated from them. He realised that they hadn't even been washed yet.
Adam sat on the toilet. Holding the damp tights in one hand and savouring their moist silkiness, he stroked his penis with the other and began to masturbate in earnest. The whole situation was just so incredibly hot. Although by no means a personal record, this would be his third masturbation session and fourth ejaculation in less than twenty four hours. Absorbed in what he was doing, Adam hadn't heard footsteps on the stairs or, for that matter, the door knob turn. Just as he was on the brink of cumming, a female voice with which he'd grown familiar over the last two days, rang out through the bathroom.
"And what do you think you're doing, young man?"
Adam's heart skipped a beat and he nearly leapt out of his skin with fright. Looking up he blushed, stopped playing with his cock and nearly dropped the tights in the toilet bowl.
"Sorry, I was just..."
"Masturbating?"
Anne didn't look angry so much as triumphant and rather smug at catching him during what he'd expected to be a private moment.
"Yes. Look, I didn't think you'd be back from church so soon."
"Obviously not."
Adam was feeling really uncomfortable by this stage.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."
"Get caught?"
"Yes."
Anne smiled.
"There's nothing to be sorry for. However I think we'd better put these somewhere safe before any harm comes to them."
With that, Anne gently took the tights off Adam and placed them on the bathroom cupboard. As she reached up a rather noisy fart escaped from her rear and, as the gas she'd passed gathered, a heady turd-like smell, not unlike that of stewed cabbage, filled Adam's nostrils. Another fart rapidly followed with an identical smell which gave him a good clue as to the real reason for her presence in the bathroom.
Adam decided that in view of her kindness to date he'd better be gentlemanly and get out of the way. It was an awkward situation to say the least and he'd not expected his new landlady to catch him with his cock out of his pants less than forty eight hours after his arrival.
"Anne if you need the bathroom I'd better go," he stammered, standing up and trying to put his throbbing, swollen cock back in his briefs at the same time.
Anne playfully ruffled his hair, making no attempt to prevent the escape of further farts from her anus as she did so.
"No Adam. You must finish what you came here to do. Unless you'd like me to finish you off myself. I'm something of an expert in that department - as my husband and one or two old flames know only too well."
