Doing it for Olivia
codes: FF, masturbation


Doing it for Olivia
by Jeremy Edwards©


"You want me to wet myself for you?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"  Karen wanted to know.

Olivia shrugged.  "Because I think it would be really, really pretty."

They were quiet for a minute.

"Does the fact that you had to ask 'why' mean you wouldn't want to do
it?" Olivia ventured.

Karen had to think about this.  "Not necessarily," she finally said.

The conversation resumed (as conversations do) later that evening.

"So, how does one usually do it?" Karen inquired.

"Do what?" asked Olivia.

"Wet oneself," Karen specified.

Olivia instantly warmed to the subject.  "Well . . . first, I'd say
it's a good idea to make sure you're wearing clothes that you feel
sexy in.  Ideally, clothes that are easy to wash, too,"  she added
with a laugh.  "Then, you take your coffee, or tea, or wine, or beer .
. . and you get yourself situated comfortably somewhere.  You relax
for a bit, until you start to think that you need to get up and go to
the bathroom for a pee."  Olivia said "pee" in a tone that suggested
it was a magic word for her.  When she continued, the light in her
eyes became more intense.  "Only you don't get up.  You stay put,
relishing the way you tickle inside, without feeling inhibited about
squirming around, clutching yourself, or touching yourself.  You let
your thighs, hands, and hips do whatever enables you to hold it for a
while, in a delicious, ever-shifting equilibrium, to make the most of
the sensations as they blossom. You just hang out and indulge those
feelings."

Karen blushed, cast her eyes down shyly, and nodded her understanding.
Olivia thought she saw a tiny smile on her lover's face.  She took a
breath and forged on.  "Then, when you know that you really have to
go--that you're about to lose control, or that it's simply time to
give in . . . you just do it, babe, right where you are, right in your
lovely panties."  Olivia was stroking herself as she experienced the
raw thrill of describing this process in such meticulous
detail--something she'd never been called upon to do before.

"It all sounds very sensible," Karen admitted.

That was all either of them said on the subject that night.

A few days later, the two of them were having a Saturday-night
chillout in the kitchen.  As was typical on these occasions, Olivia
was dressed simply in boyshorts and a form-fitting little T-shirt,
which showed off her sassy tummy.  Karen, on the other hand, was a bit
more dressed up--she had put on her favorite miniskirt, and a cashmere
mock turtleneck.  As erotic music trickled softly in the background,
Karen got up from her seat at the table and helped herself to a second
beer.

"What's up, babe?" said Olivia.  "You don't usually have more than one
b--."  She stopped short.  A hope had hit her like a ten-foot wave.

"Don't tell me this means . . . oh, Karen, are you . . .?"

Karen smiled enigmatically, slid back into her seat, and began to down
the beer.

Two beers didn't take long to overtake a metabolism like Karen's.
Around the time that her face began to glow with a tipsy magic, she
started to jiggle from the hips down.

Olivia looked lovingly at her.  "Do you have to pee, honey?"  She
spoke very quietly, but her voice was charged with incipient
excitement.

Karen leaned in and answered in a sultry, conspiratorial whisper.
"Yeah, I have to pee.  But I want to have to pee *more* before I do
it.  Until you painted that picture for me the other night, I never
thought about how good it feels to just let it build for a while.

Since then, I've been thinking about it a lot."  She was jiggling more
sensuously now, with larger motions.  As she spoke, one of her hands
disappeared under the table.  Olivia reached her own hand forward to
meet it, and together the two hands pressed against Karen's panties.

For several exquisite minutes, Karen enjoyed letting Olivia masturbate
her through her knickers while her knees knocked together in a
pulsating "hold it" routine.  Her clit was tingling, and the tug of
war between her persisting control and her impulse to let go created a
precious tension that was absolutely ecstatic.  She moaned in blissful
ambivalence, unsure whether to wet now, or to come now, or . . . .

Suddenly she realized how she wanted this to play out.  "I'm going to
put on a show for you," she whispered.

Olivia closed her eyes briefly in rapture.  Though she was reluctant
to remove her fingers from her darling's crotch, she knew it would be
worth it.

Karen stood up and walked delicately to the center of the kitchen
floor, holding herself with a lewd elegance.  Soon she was rocking
from side to side, with her skirt hiked up haphazardly and her hand
wedged against her panties.  "Mmm . . . I've gotta go," she crooned.

As she began to do a kinky dance across the kitchen tiles, Karen came
alive with erotic energy, in a way that Olivia had never seen before.
Her patter, stated softly as if to herself--though it was officially
addressed to Olivia--was poetry to her lover's ears.  "Oh, fuck yes,
I'm going to wet for you.  I'm going to wet.  I'm going to pee my
freakin' panties for you."

In one unforgettable moment, future tense turned to present.  "Oh,
glorious fuck, I'm pissing.  Feels so good . . . so fuckin' good.  Oh
fuck, oh fuck, yes . . . ."

Olivia, her hand in her boyshorts, was going wild with arousal and
slamming her ass rhythmically against her seat.  Karen was giving her
a performance that was beyond her dreams.

"It's all for you, honey, it's coming down all for you," Karen was
gasping, as robust rivers poured through her skimpy bikini panties.
She realized with a thrill that she couldn't stop now, even if she
wanted to.  Her piss-soaked pussy was burning with libido, and her
fingers sought her cunt as fast as they could.

When her orgasmic scream trumpeted forth from her trembling body,
Karen noted with surprise that it was even louder than Olivia's.

© 2007 Jeremy Edwards

Jeremy Edwards is a pseudonymous sort of fellow whose efforts at spinning libido
into literature have been published various places online, as well as in print
anthologies.  His greatest goal in life is to be sexy and witty at the same
moment--ideally in lighting that flatters his profile.  

Readers can visit him at
www.myspace.com/jerotic

or contact him at jerotic@gmail.com