Natural Inclinations Pt 03

Natural Inclinations -- Part 3

By: Deana Bard

Chapter 9

"Well! There you are. It's about time."

The sound of the sliding door had drawn Janice's attention. "What took you so long?" Peter was already feeling self-conscious wearing the bottom half of a girl's bathing suit. Wearing the matching top would have been even more embarrassing. So he chickened-out. Did he dare to even tell her that he had tried it on? Thus causing his delay?

"I ... er ... um ..."

"Oh, never mind. It's not important." Janice said, "I'm just glad you're finally here. So, come over here. Let me get a good look at you." Following her instructions, he moved alongside her lounge chair. "Oh don't you look adorable. Just like I knew you would." Picking up her phone, she then had him do some modeling poses for her while taking pictures.

"Your butt looks so incredible." Well, with the bikini being a thong, his ass was pretty much fully uncovered, putting it on full display. And she made sure some of those poses demonstrated that in the most dramatic of ways. With each pose, she showered him with additional complements. His level of embarrassment faded while his ego and self-assurance grew. Aside from his parents, no one had ever made him the center of attention before. Not in a good way, anyway.

Peter had never been one of those eager to have his picture taken, often doing his best to fade into the background. But for Miss Janice, his attitude rapidly changed. Self-consciousness be damned. For her, he very quickly adapted to being her muse. It didn't take long before he was happily playing the star and really getting into modeling his new bathing suit when Janice put down the phone and asked, "So how do they feel? I mean, does wearing a bikini make you feel ugly?"

Juiced up on a new level of self-confidence, he was quick to respond. "Ugly? No way! To be honest, I like the way it makes me feel."

"So, since you don't feel ugly, then you must feel pretty." Peter's breath caught in his throat. Did he feel 'pretty'? He had no explanation for why he liked the way the bikini made him feel. Only that he liked it. But, pretty???

Then he remembered putting on the bikini top. And the truth was, wearing both pieces of the bikini had made him feel kind of ... well ... pretty. That was a difficult thing to admit, even to himself. But did he have the nerve to come out and reveal that he had also tried on the top? And that's when he recalled first seeing his reflection in the mirror; he had, in fact, felt pretty.

Peter needn't have answered verbally. The redness of his cheeks told Janice everything she needed to know. She would simply let that 'pretty factor' simmer in the back of his mind.

As a distraction, she said, "It looks like you've got plenty of the support you said you like."

Up until that moment, he hadn't thought about the support the bikini was providing to his boy parts. But he had to agree, it was true. "Yes. There's plenty of support. Even better than what my briefs provide." With his mental focus redirected, he could truly take in the way the bikini fit. "What do ya know? That support feels really nice." Without further prompting, he began prancing about the patio and then sprinted out to the grassy area where he started running and jumping, just to test out and savor that support.

This was so much better than anything his briefs ever provided. They only really only gave a modicum of support to his testicles. Still, the pouches always allowed his dick to float freely. "Wow!" he shouted. "This is great!" Returning to the patio and Janice's side. "Look. Nothing's out of place." He beamed, "Everything is still nice and secure."

"I am so glad you like wearing a bikini. I just knew it would give the support you want, and I love the way you look." In a flash, her tone shifted from pleasant to stern. "In fact, from today forward, I never want to see you wearing another pair of men's briefs. Understood?" This proclamation took Peter by surprise. But in under two seconds, he agreed to her demand. Why not? There would never be a reason for Miss Janice to see him out of his shorts again. Anyway, it wasn't like she would be inviting him over all the often in the first place. So that pretty much eliminated even a chance of her seeing his underwear again. "Good. I'm glad that's settled. Now pull up your chair. You need to get working on a nice even tan. You should start by lying on your stomach. That sweet ass of yours hasn't seen sunlight since probably forever."

Tanning his butt was something he had never thought to attempt, yet now doing so excited him. Once he was lying flat, Janice began coating him with suntan lotion. Starting with the back of his neck and then shoulders, her slippery hands felt good as they massaged the oily cream into his skin. He closed his eyes to fully enjoy her touch and relish the fact that an almost totally naked woman was tending to his nearly naked body.

While doing this, she was saying, "When I was your age, every guy thought he had the most beautiful penis. And his erections were a thing that the world should take note of. Girls in school often told how they had caught their brother, whether he was older or younger, standing in front of the mirror admiring his erection. Like it was some special award-winning phallus. Proudly displaying it at every opportunity. Do guys still do that? Posing with pride in front of every mirror whenever naked. Funny how it never seems to occur to them that just like everything else, every man, and boy, is built a little differently."

This, he thought, was a strange topic for her to bring up. But there was something about her voice that Peter just couldn't get enough of. He loved to hear her speak, no matter the topic. Sometimes, he wasn't really listening to what she was saying but just enjoying her vocal modulations. Without making a sound to disrupt her rambling thoughts, he just lay there swimming in the vibrations.

When her hands had coated his entire back, she moved down to his feet. At first, her touch on the soles of his feet tickled, but with deep massaging, the tickling stopped, replaced by strange sensations that coursed up his legs, through his spine, and straight to some deep pleasure center in his brain. Those pleasurable sensations then turned around and headed straight for his groin, causing an involuntary moan to escape.

As she continued working on one foot then the other, he became aware that his dick was filling with blood, straining to become erect. Only, while scrunched up in the bikini, plus the weight of his body, both combined to prevent that from happening. Oddly, this inability for his dick to realize its potential was causing the release of massive amounts of endorphins. He was caught in a catch twenty-two. He wanted to adjust himself so his erection could fully manifest itself. Yet, the prevention of it was increasing the sexual frustration. That frustration only provoked the release of more feel-good hormones. Who knew that restricting the penis and thus eliminating any possibility of an erection would create its own kind of turn-on? The flood of endorphins set off all sorts of neurons in his brain. Those neurons fired off in rapid succession, setting his entire nervous system on edge and taking him on a glorious ride. It was like discovering a new kind of addictive drug. And he liked it! He liked it a lot!

Making her way over his ankles and the length of his calves. Taking her time as she went, she proceeded further up his legs while seeming to pay extra attention to his inner thighs. By the time Janice reached his buttocks, his nervous system was in hyperdrive. His dick may have been all scrunched up, but the dampness he felt rapidly growing in his crotch told him he was leaking pre-cum like a faucet.

Keeping his eyes closed tight, he savored every rub and squeeze of her hands. Gentle but intentional slaps on his butt cheeks only furthered to stimulate his pleasure centers. Thoroughly enjoying the sensations produced by his restrained dick -- every twitch and throb caused shot after shot of pre-cum to force it's way out and into his bikini.

What would happen when it was time to turn over? All that pre-cum had to have made one heck of a wet spot, soaking the entire triangle of the bikini. But while Peter's epidermis was wired and fully charged, his muscles were in a deep state of relaxation. He couldn't be any less concerned about later on now. All he wanted at that moment was for the sensations brought on by the frustration to go on forever. Snapping the cap shut on the oil, she lay back into her chair. He whispered, "Thank you, Miss Janice" and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"Peter. Wake up, sweetie." A friendly, familiar voice rousted him from a most tranquil dream. "I'm sorry to wake you, but before you turn into a lobster, you should roll over."

Opening his eyes about blinded him. The sunlight was too bright, forcing him to keep his eyelids closed. "How long was I asleep?" His mouth was dry and his voice raspy. "What time is it?" When she told him that he had been sleeping for almost two hours, he attempted to get up. However, his muscles resisted that much effort. The best he could do was just rolling over onto his back. "Ouch!" Now he knew what she meant about being sunburnt.

"I think you've had about all the sun you can take for one day. You better sit up." He tried again to open his eyes, but it was just too painful. "Let me help you up. You can go cool off in the Jacuzzi. It hasn't run for some time now. The water should have cooled some. It will make the sunburn hurt less."

With a helping hand, he sat upright. "Here. Drink this. You need to rehydrate." A large plastic glass grazed his hand.

Blindly, he took hold of the glass, and she helped him get up from the lounge chair. Once he was up, through squinted eyelids, he began making his way towards the shaded tub. On the other hand, Janice went into the house, leaving him to pilot himself the rest of the way.

Getting under the shade of the gazebo and out from the direct rays of the sun felt good. He stopped just long enough to take a gulp from the glass he'd been handed. That first swallow of liquid told his brain just how thirsty he really was and that relief was in hand. He took another big gulp. At this point, putting out the fire in his mouth and throat took priority over caring what kind of liquid it was. Quenching the thirst was all that mattered. And by now, he had become so accustomed to this particular beverage he had no qualms or hesitation about drinking it. The glass was empty before he had fully submerged himself into the still warm but refreshing water.

No sooner had he gotten himself thoroughly wet when his personal plumbing system told him that he needed to open his own spigot. As his thirst had not fully been quenched, he already knew the solution to both problems. Without thinking about his surroundings, he stood up, pulled the bikini down to his knees, and began refilling the glass. Within moments the glass was filled, and he poured his piss right down his throat then repeated the process. Not just once, but starting on a third.

Finally, his bladder was empty, and his thirst was more than satisfied. Now he could more fully enjoy soaking in the tub. Of course, not before getting himself situated in the bikini again.

No sooner had Peter gotten that all taken care of and re-submerged when Janice came back outside. Only she was fully dressed. "Peter. Sweetie. I need to go do some shopping now, so you'll have to go on home." Well, this was disappointing. But without a word of complaint, he got himself out of the tub so he could dry off and get dressed.

That was his intention anyway. But no sooner had he set foot onto the patio when she said, "I really need you to hurry." He was handed his shorts and shirt, both neatly folded and stacked with his sneakers placed on top. "Okay then. Now get going." That he was dripping wet suddenly wasn't an issue. The way she was escorting him by his arm through the house to the front door, along with her tone, he instinctively knew that pointing out this fact would not go over well at all.

Almost before he knew it, he was outside on her front porch practically naked, wearing nothing but a baby blue bikini and a dazed look on his face.

Suddenly faced with a new dilemma: Should he sprint across to his house as quickly as possible? Or would a casual walk be less likely to attract attention? Either way, he knew it was pretty much a foregone conclusion that someone was bound to see him. Maybe, if he was quick, he could at least slip his pants on before being caught. "Better get a move on, sweetie." Janice's voice startled him. So preoccupied with his predicament, he'd failed to notice that she had followed him out the door to get to her car. "Don't dawdle. Hurry home now, little one." and gave him an encouraging pat on his beet red, tender, and fully exposed backside.

With the late afternoon sun at his back and still undecided as to what pace would be best, off he went. Speeding up, then slowing down, then going fast again. Almost there. He just might get away with it.

Then it happened. From the street, he heard, "Hey, Petey! Nice buns." Damned if two former female classmates hadn't come up from behind on their bicycles. "Looks good from the back. Let's see the front." This was not the way he had imagined getting girls to notice him. Mortified and with nowhere to hide, he took off running. Leaping onto his porch, all he heard were catcalls and chants of, "Let's see more! Let's see more!"

Just then, as he was about to close the door behind him, something came over him. Was it due to the alcohol contained in his own piss he had just swallowed? Or was it strictly an inflated ego? Whatever brought it on he had never experienced before: A sudden streak of public exhibitionism burst forth. He would give them what they wanted. Before he could talk himself out of it, he stepped back to the front edge of the porch, bent slightly at the waist, and shook his ass at his tormentors. He was rewarded with a mix of cheers and laughter, along with more taunts to keep the show going. This only emboldened him. Showtime! Turning around, he gave them what they had asked for -- to see the front. Thrusting his hips forward, there for all to see, the tiny triangle of his bikini. What Peter hadn't anticipated was that three more kids from school rolled up just as he did this. All five of them now, three girls and two guys, got to catch the show.

Their cheers rang sweetly in Peter's ears, only to be followed by uproarious laughter and snide remarks. It was one thing to show off for a couple of girls. But it was totally different doing it for a mix of girls and guys. The spell was broken. Peter slithered into his house, closing the door and the outside world behind him.

Trembling at what he had just done, the first thing he had to do was recheck himself in the mirror to see what, if anything, unintentional had been visible. The bikini may have been so-called 'quick drying,' but much to his dismay, it had not dried. The vast quantities of oily pre-cum he had been squirting out earlier had so thoroughly coated the triangle it remained damp and semitransparent. The bikini being light in color, what lay beneath was not well hidden. But wait! Maybe if the angle of the sun had been behind him...

Peaking around the curtains, he saw that the crowd had moved on, and none of his other neighbors seemed to be outside. He had to know for sure just what might have been easily seen. There was only one way to know for sure. If he was quick, it would only take a moment. Opening the door, he stepped outside. Facing the street, he looked down. Oh god! It was worse than he thought. When facing the street, the sun was to his left and a shadow to his right. Wet or dry, this cross lighting only emphasized the small lump his man parts produced, all tightly packed into the tiny triangle of the bikini.

Ego deflated, he returned to the shelter of the indoors.

===============

Chapter 10

After a long cool shower to soothe his sunburn and to forget about his recent burst of exhibitionism, he went ahead and prepared for bed before fixing dinner.

While in the shower, he needed to pee. He had lost count of how many glasses of piss he had already swallowed. At least three-and-a-half just in the last half hour. And after drinking so much fluid, his belly was already quite full. There certainly was no need for more hydration. Yet, there he was, craving some more piss. What kind of addiction was that?

Anyway, he decided against it. While both glass-fulls of Miss Janice's pee had been freshly brewed, the multiple glasses of his own piss had already been recycled several times over. Before running his through his system yet again, he figured it was better to flush out the plumbing with fresh water first.

Even though Miss Janice had not invited him to return tomorrow, it would be best to be prepared. If drinking piss, his and hers, was about to be a regular thing, he felt it would be wise to start the day out fresh.

This prompted another thought: Is drinking pee all that safe? A quick Internet search revealed that, first off, piss is 95% water. So, no problem there. The rest is mostly nitrogen, electrolytes, and calcium, plus traces of potassium, proteins, and hormones. Too much of any of those elements might not be all that healthful. But, Peter figured, a glass here and a glass there, how much harm could that cause? Also, he discovered numerous testimonials from others who like to drink pee, some doing it every day. Well, okay then. No problem. His mouth was already watering, and his dick was stirring for his next taste.

Dinner consisted of a multi-vitamin and a large glass of water. Once that was out of the way, but before heading up to his room for the night, Peter cleaned and straightened the entire downstairs.

Before he could settle in, he needed to put the folded shirt and shorts into his hamper. When he picked up his sneakers to put them into the closet, he saw that Miss Janice had tucked his socks into one of the shoes. They, too, went into the hamper. In the other shoe, he found something else tucked down into the toe: The bikini top. The one that paired with the bottom that was currently draped over the shower curtain rod. (Rinsed out while showering.)

Holding the bikini top at arm's length and re-examining it, he wondered, "Why did she send it home with me? What would I need that for?" As he pondered these questions, he continued to consider how light and delicate it felt in his hands. With no time pressure now like there had been that afternoon, he more carefully studied it. Of particular interest was just how small it was, yet he already knew that it fit him.

At least he thought it did. Maybe, he figured, he should try it on once more. Just to make sure. What the heck? He'd do it. There was little risk of being discovered. Not like there had been when he tried it on this afternoon in Miss Janice's powder room. Now, in the sanctity of his own home, absolutely no one would ever know that he was trying on the top half of a ladies' bikini.

Shedding his pajama shirt, he slipped his arms through the skinny shoulder straps. Again his fingers fumbled behind his back while trying to get it hooked. But once he got it and everything situated, he looked at himself in the mirror. His dresser mirror was so much bigger than the one in the powder room. Now he could see himself more fully and how it looked on him. More to the point, how it made him look. The top seemed to fit even better now, and he had to admit it looked kind of cute. He was struck by how well it fit him. It was the perfect size for his build. But that made no sense. Why would Miss Janice have such a small bikini when there was no possible way it would have accommodated her fuller breasts?