INTRODUCTION TO READERS
WET ENCOUNTERS
is a novel-length story of love, lust and betrayal that takes place on a tropical Pacific island during the second half of the twentieth century.
It's seventeen chapters pivot around a single event that takes place when two people are forced to take refuge in an abandoned cabin when they are cut off by rising floodwaters.
During the three nights they spend together, they discover things about themselves and the regular occupants of the cottage that will destroy their previously stable lives.
The big question is, can anything be saved from the wreckage that remains after the floodwaters recede?
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CHAPTER ELEVEN
The light was beginning to fade when I woke. A glance at my watch told me that it was just after five o'clock. I hated doing it but as gently as I could, I withdrew my cock from Juanita - earning a disappointing but unconscious groan and a mumbled, "Noooo," for my trouble - and unwrapped my arms from around her so I could go out to check the water levels before the light was completely gone.
It was still raining heavily and I noted that the piece of firewood I'd placed on the step above the previous level was gone. That indicated that the water was still rising. The fact that it was only just lapping at the next step told me that its rate of rise was continuing to slow, however. Most importantly, it told me that we would be safe in the cabin for another night. It was hard to tell in the fading light but it looked like the mountains to the west of us were more clearly outlined against the sky than they had been for the past couple of days.
'We mightn't have as long as I'd hoped,'
I thought, as I turned to go back inside the cabin.
'Once that water starts to drop, it will only be a matter of hours - a day at most - before we'll have to return to the other side of the creek.'
I went into the kitchen and, after stoking up the fire in the stove, retrieved a piece of firewood from the pile of wet split timber I'd stacked beside the door. I then returned to the verandah to mark the next step above the one that was about to go under. While passing the bathroom, I had also picked up our makeshift toilet, which I emptied into the fast-flowing floodwaters, giving it a good rinse out before placing it up onto the verandah deck. I then took up a feet-apart position in preparation for emptying my bladder into the floodwaters.
"Our John does that at home," Juanita's voice broke my reverie just as I was about to release my flow. "In fact, I'm sure he much prefers to urinate off the back steps than in the toilet. I don't know what it is with men and their penises. They seem to enjoy flashing it about for the whole world to see it. The other thing I have noticed is that they seem to like drawing pictures and creating rainbows and arches with their stream."
As she had been talking, she had been descending the stairs. Taking up a position beside me, she reached across and replaced my hand on my shaft and used it to steer the flow, drawing figures-of-eight in the water beneath us then lifting it up to see how high it would go. I don't think I've ever pissed for so long. It felt oddly erotic to have someone else holding onto my cock and directing the flow as I emptied my bladder. By the time I'd finished, I was beginning to harden up again. Juanita didn't help when she started rubbing her hand up and down along my shaft.
"Now," she said, "It's my turn. Let's see if you can do the same for me. Sit back on the step behind you and let me sit in your lap. I've never done this - or anything like this - before but you seem to make me want to try new things; things I would never have thought of doing in the past or with anyone else."
Once I had taken my seat on the step, Juanita lowered herself into my lap and after forcing my legs apart, opened her legs so they were splayed out over mine. She then grabbed my hands in her own and pushed them down between her legs, using them to open her soft inner lips to expose her urethra. Leaning back against me, she relaxed the muscles controlling her bladder and started pissing. Using her hands to guide mine, she started manipulating her piss hole so it sprayed up, down and sideways. She then released her hold on my hands and let me steer the boat.
That's when things got a bit messy. I didn't have the same delicate touch that she had. Up was okay; although I did go a little bit too far and some of her urine ended up being sprayed over both of us in what I learned much later in life was called a golden shower. I got the down okay; down is down, after all. It was the sideways control that I found hard to manage. I ended up getting her urine over both her legs and mine.
As mine had done, earlier, her bladder eventually emptied, although with both of us laughing so much, she kept releasing small spurts for ages. Setting aside the full-blown fucking we had been indulging in for the past twenty-four hours, it was the most fun of an erotic nature I'd had in years. And the beauty of it was that it was something we would be able to work on for however long we were going to have together.
The one thing that surprised me about that erotic play, though, was how much urine she had stored in her bladder after having squirted so many times during our earlier lovemaking session. The other thing was that the smell of her urine was different to the fluid she'd released when squirting, This was something I was going to have to look into; although, I didn't think I was going to find the answer in the set of Encyclopedia Britannica I'd recently purchased. As it turned out, it would be many years before I found the answers to those questions.
When we finally stopped laughing, we scrambled to our feet and made our way inside. Darkness was quickly descending upon our little refuge in the wild, crocodile-infested waters that surrounded us. As the daylight waned, though, the mosquitoes and other night-time insect came out to play. The mosquitoes were the main worry, though. They carried both Malaria and Dengue fever, two diseases we could do without.
We had both received a drenching from the rain while playing pissing games on the front steps of the little cabin but it hadn't been enough to wash away the encrusted evidence of our earlier sexual romp. We badly needed a shower.
I handed the bucket to Juanita and steered her towards the bathroom while I diverted towards the kitchen to collect our towels. When I joined her, I pulled the plug in the bath to see if I could drain the water that had been sitting there since the previous night. Apparently, the fast-flowing flood water was creating a vortex in and around the wastewater sump and the bathwater drained as quickly as it would normally have done. I wondered if it was doing the same thing with the septic tank so I gave the toilet a flush. It, too, worked. It appeared that I had been wrong in my assumptions about our drainage.
'Still,'
I thought,
'better to err on the side of caution than to survive the flood only to come down with a dose of Cholera.'
If the toilet was flushing, I surmised, it was because the water flow was sucking everything out of the septic tank. Our water supply was still limited, though, so flushing the toilet was going to have to be limited to solids. Our urine would have to either have to sit in the bowl until it required flushing or we would have to continue using the bucket and emptying it at regular intervals. The other alternative, of course - which might be better suited to me than to Juanita - would be to simply pee off the front steps.
I raised these matters with my lover as she stood under the shower while I washed her down. I had replaced the plug to collect our shower water so we could wash our bedsheets and fluid-stained towels when we changed them.
"I'm happy to pee off the front steps, too," Juanita said, as I applied soap to every bump and crack on her body. "You'll have to be there to protect me, though. There might be crocodiles lurking in those waters. In fact, you might have to help meeee!" Her voice rose an octave or two as I inserted a couple of fingers into her vagina to ensure no dirt had crept in there. She recovered quickly from her surprise, though, lifting one leg, placing her foot on the edge of the bath to provide me with better access.
After working her to a small orgasm, I soaped up a finger and sliding it further back past her short perineum and used it to play with her anus. As soon as I felt her begin to relax her sphincter, I pushed the finger up into her rectum. I had only intended to tease her by inserting it in as far as the first knuckle and giving it a quick jiggle but as I pushed past her tight little anal bud, she pushed back and my whole finger disappeared all the way up to its base. She must have been sitting right on the edge of a second orgasm because, as soon as it had bottomed out, she screamed and started shuddering. I felt her sphincter pulsating on my finger as she convulsed through another climax.
As her legs gave out, I extracted my finger and lowered her down into the water that had collected in the bottom of the bath, turning the shower off to avoid wasting water while I was seeing to her.
"My God!" she croaked as she sat in the shallow bathwater. "If that's what happens when you put a finger up there, what's going to happen when you finally get around to stick your thermometer up there? I was looking forward to finding out after this afternoon's little experience but now I'm not so sure."
"It's entirely up to you," I said, as I slid down to sit behind her and pulled her back to be cradled against my chest. "It might be too much for you."
