I ran into Sherri tonight at the train station. She was a student dancer who I'd worked with last year.
She's 24, and stands about 5' 5" or so, with long kinky dark hair, and a slightly middle eastern look to her. She has a beautiful face, with wine coloured lips and dark eyes.
She had gold glitter on her head tonight, and was wearing black PVC boots. She'd been out clubbing and recognized me in the queue.
We chatted about how we were doing and what was going on, and I could tell she was teasing me. I let a bloke behind me go ahead so we could talk facing each other, and she said I was nice, and gullible. She had a look in her eyes that said that she was having fun with me, flirting.
She talked in a slightly pouty way, and I remembered my work with her, seeing her stretch before the dance performance, her legs wide apart as she stood on her shoulders, a little mound visible through her tight blue track suit bottoms. I'd done my best to keep from staring.
As I looked at her, standing in the queue for the taxi, I couldn't help but think how good my cock would look in her mouth, on that dark red tongue, between those dark red lips.
She said she was dying for a loo, and asked me if I'd help her out.
I asked her what she meant, and she took my hand and started walking with me towards the darker part of the car park.
"Stand guard for me," she said, "I've got to go really bad, and if I don't, I'll piss all over myself. Just keep an eye out."
We made our way around the corner of the building behind the station. There were still a few people visible in the Taxi queue, so we continued a bit farther.
Now we were completely out of their sight, in a dead-end alley, lit by one of the lights near the train tracks. We'd be visible if anyone was at the extreme west end of the platform, but otherwise not.
She noticed this, and stood on the other side of me, so that she would be hidden from anyone else on the platform.
"Stay there," she said. She took a step back, but didn't go far. If she did, she'd be seen around me.
"Damn these clothes," she said, "why couldn't I have worn a skirt?"
She said she was worried about pissing on her trousers, and boots, so she took her boots off, and stood barefoot.
She made me turn around, and then a few seconds later I felt her tap my shoulder.
"Hold these," she said. I looked over my shoulder, and she pushed my head back with her hand. Then she handed me her trousers and a g-string set of knickers.
I felt a stirring as I realized what I was holding.
She was completely naked from the waist down.
I heard a wet sound, and knew she was pissing.
I turned around completely, and looked at her.
She was facing me, squatting. Her pussy hair was neatly trimmed, I noticed, nothing but a tight mohawk of hair over some large labia that had a stream of piss shooting out between them.
She was watching the piss closely, to be sure it didn't get all over her feet, so she didn't look up right away.
All she was wearing now was a tight t-shirt. Her long coat lay on her boots just behind her.
Wow, she was a sight to see. Her thighs were dancer's thights, tight without an ounce of fat on them. Her stomach was covered, but I was sure it was flat. Her tits looked large in the shirt, and I could see the outline of a bra.
"You aren't as nice as I thought," she said, looking up as she finished.