Wet [Tier 3] (Patreon)

I checked the time on my phone. It had only been 24 minutes.

Maybe I had taken an old-wives tale too literally. My mother always insisted that we wait a half-hour after eating before we jump in the pool, lest we want to suffer from cramps while we swim. But as I sat at the side of Dale’s inground pool, near my grease-covered paper plate that previously held some pizza, I wondered how much of a threat such a thing really was. Has anyone actually died from jumping into a pool too soon after eating? What was the actual worst case scenario? That I’d have mild discomfort in water that I could stand in?

“Jesus, Richie, are you getting in the pool or not?”

Apparently, the possibility of stomach cramps hadn’t slowed down Dale, who had eaten more pizza than I had, and was already doing a backfloat in the deepest end of the pool.

Truthfully, it wasn’t just my concern about cramping that gave me hesitation to just leap in. Kristie was there.

I’ve known Dale’s older sister for just as long as I’ve known Dale, though I hadn’t seen as much of her in the last few years. She was deep into her undergrad studies now, which kept her out of state. But the summer was usually when I’d see her–in a bathing suit, no less.

That fucking bikini. I wondered if it was even hotter to see her wearing that than it would be to see her naked. Naked, there was no guessing–I didn’t need my imagination. But with this skimpy blue and yellow striped bikini, it covered up just enough that I could just about picture her nude, using my imagination to fill in the tiny areas I couldn’t see for myself.

I’ve always had a crush on her. From the very first second I saw her too, I reckoned. I had never once said anything about it. Dale was the type who would’ve immediately run to her and spilled the beans, and I couldn’t have that. I never wanted to actually act on my lust for her. I just wanted to bask in her presence when I could, while pleasuring myself to her image later.

She knew, I suspected. She had to have known. She had caught me staring at her so many times over the years, usually shooting me a little smile in response. I often wondered what she thought of my obvious infatuation. Did she find it flattering? Was it funny to her?

Now, she was mostly ignoring Dale and I. She was rotating between reading a few pages from a book, taking a quick dip in the pool herself, and doing some sunbathing. The hardest part of her presence was…well, not getting hard myself. I had to divert my eyes when she was near. I had to act like I didn’t care that she was around.

I did a cannonball into the deep end in an effort to appease Dale while hoping to keep up the illusion of not caring that Kristie was around.

“Water feels good today, yeah?” Dale said.

“Yeah, man.”

He might as well have said that the water was wet. The temperature was near 90–of course the pool felt fucking amazing.

“Yo,” Dale said, swimming closer to me and speaking in a more hushed tone. “We should go splash my sister.”

I glanced over in her direction, seeing that she was sitting up in her chair, flipping a page in the book she was reading.

“Uh, well, I dunno…she’d probably be pretty pissed if her book got wet.”

“Dude, it’s fucking paper. Paper dries.”

From my own experience, I know that while paper does dry, it never dries correctly. Pages get warped and distorted. Sometimes they stick together. Sometimes the ink runs. I imagine myself in Kristie’s spot, my book getting splashed with water. I’d be mad.

It seemed like Dale was winding up his arm to begin his aquatic assault on his sister, regardless of whether or not I was interested. I reacted swiftly, launching a forceful wave of my own at Dale’s face before he could strike at Kristie. A wall of water slapped Dale across the face, sending him reeling backwards.

“What the fuck, man!”

“She’s reading a book,” I said again.

“I think you got water in my ear or something,” Dale hissed, shaking his head. “Fuck, I can’t hear right.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“I gotta go inside and do something about this, or else I’m going to get a fucking infection again. Jesus, Richie.”

I opened my mouth to apologize again, but he was already halfway across the pool, splashing about as he tried to get out of the water to go inside. I did feel a little guilty about it–I had only meant to thwart his attempts at splashing Kristie.

“Thank you,” a voice said from behind me. I spun around, my heart seizing for a moment, to see that it was Kristie. She had put her book down and she was standing at the edge of the pool now, a big smile on her face as she looked down at me.

“Oh, uh, I mean…I was just…”

“He does that shit all the time,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I should know better than to bring books out here when he’s in the pool. He almost ruined my phone a year or two doing that shit.”

“He’s just playing around,” I said. I wasn’t sure why I was defending him, other than a feeling of loyalty and obligation.

“As you can see, the big baby doesn’t like it when he gets splashed himself.”

I stifled my laughter as best as I could. “I mean, I don’t want him to get an ear infection.”

“Are you kidding me? He gets like three infections a summer. He’s always doing some dumb shit in the pool.”

It already felt like we had exhausted everything we could say about Dale’s ear issues. So, I thought I’d take a stab at some small talk. “So, uh, it’s good to see you’re back for a little while. How’s college been?”

She slowly lowered her ass down onto the edge of the pool, sitting on the ledge while letting her feet dangle in the water not far from where I was. I couldn’t help but imagine myself swimming beneath the surface and touching her toes.

Don’t be creepy.

“Right now, while I’m on break, school seems pretty good,” she shrugged. “Ask me again when I’m in the middle of a semester, though. I’ll probably start swearing like a sailor.”

“I know that feeling.”

It was hard to look directly at her. Her legs were spread open just enough that by glancing in her direction, my eyes were forced to follow the insides of her thighs to her crotch–where an almost impossibly thin strip of fabric was all that prevented me from seeing the treasures beneath.

“Oh shit, I forgot,” she said, her face lighting up. “You just finished your freshman year of college, didn’t you?”

I nodded.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe you’re in college now, Richie. I swear, I always think you and Dale are still in middle school or something.”

“Time flies, I guess.”

“So you’re an adult now, huh?”

I felt my cheeks blushing a little. That was a peculiar question. “Yeah, I mean…I’m 19 now. I guess that makes me an adult. Still can’t drink or rent a car or anything fun, of course.”

My gaze was stuck between her legs again, staring at the fabric of her bikini bottoms. I swore that I saw a damp spot there–one that I didn’t think was there before. But I needed to remind myself of where we were. At the pool, it was inevitable that everything would get wet.

“You want a drink?” she asked, her eyebrows lifting as her lips curled into a tight little grin.

“R-right now? I mean…”

“Not right now,” she shrugged. “Especially not while Dale is around. Like I’d ever share my stash with him. He drinks my dad’s beer all the fucking time. I have my own.”

“Well, uh, I could stop by some other time if you want.”

I was struggling to make eye contact with her. Every few seconds, I needed to divert my eyes to her crotch again–just for the briefest of moments–as if I needed to check in on the status of her bottoms. I could have sworn that every time I looked, the wet spot was getting bigger and bigger. At one point, I thought I could even see a dark spot forming on the concrete beneath her.

She bit her bottom lip as she batted her eyelashes at me. “Yeah, I think I’d like that, Richie. You should drop by sometime.”

“Y-yeah, absolutely,” I said, at least partially afraid that my excitement was going to cause me to somehow lose my footing in the pool so that I’d drown. That was the real risk–not swimming too soon after eating. “Just let me know when.”

“Tonight?”

“Oh, uh… I mean, Dale’s going to be around tonight too, isn’t he?”

“I’m thinking late,” she said, her feet playfully kicking in the water. “Real late. After everyone in the house has gone to sleep. Like, anytime after 1 AM? Just come into the backyard. I’ll be here.”

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Y-yeah, I can do that.”

Could I do that? I was going to have to either tell my mother I was going out real late–which she’d almost certainly have follow up questions for–or I’d have to sneak out of the house. The latter wasn’t really my style, but it seemed like the easier of the two options.

“Perfect,” she said. “Looking forward to it.”

“Should I bring anything?”

She laughed and shook her head. “Just yourself, Richie. I’ll take care of the rest.”

It was about that time that Dale rolled out from the house, still shaking his head a little–as if trying to shake free the last remnants of water from inside his skull.

“I’m not getting back in the pool, man,” he hollered from the other end of the patio. “Let’s go inside. We’ll play some XBox or something.”

I was ready to say that I’d get out of the pool in a minute, after finishing my conversation with Kristie, but when I turned around, I saw that she had already stood up and was collecting her things from the chair to go inside herself. It was clear that the ass of her bikini bottom was completely saturated.

Almost immediately, I glanced over to where she had been sitting at the poolside. It wasn’t just wet–it was a puddle. And with the way the summer sun was shining on it, that puddle seemed to have a yellow-ish hue.

===

I ended up jumping into my bed around 9 that night, setting an alarm for midnight. I figured I’d get a little nap in before my rendezvous with Kristie. A rendezvous that was starting to seem more impossible every time I thought about it. She was being serious, right? That wasn’t just some weird joke?

I never actually fell asleep. Around 11 PM, I turned off my alarm, realizing that I wasn’t going to get any rest for as long as I was thinking about meeting up with Kristie.

Why me?

That was the question I kept asking myself. Kristie could have been with anyone. And, if the rumors had been true, she had been with her share of guys around town too. For the year that we were in high school together, I’d see her walking up and down the hallways while holding the hands of guys who were so far beyond whatever league I was in. Guys who would’ve laughed themselves hoarse if they had seen me attempting to talk to Kristie–right before they gave me a wedgie or threatened to beat the shit out of me.

That had happened once, actually. Phil Masterson caught my eyes lingering on Kristie a little too long once during a school assembly. After school that day, in the parking lot, he offered to give me two black eyes if I was going to keep looking at his woman like that. I chose to believe him, and was a bit more careful after that.

My other question was: Did she piss herself right in front of me? It sure seemed like she did, though I wasn’t sure what to make of it if I was right. Had she wanted me to see that, or would she have been humiliated if I admitted that I noticed? But how could I have not seen that? Her crotch was just inches from my face, and she made no effort to close her legs.

So, then, maybe what I was really asking was: Was I okay with the fact that she pissed herself right in front of me?

Yes, I thought so. In fact, I tried not to think about it too much, as I was pretty sure I liked it a lot more than I was willing to admit. So much so, that I was already feeling a shameful pang of regret for not even touching her warm piss puddle after she had gotten up.

12:30 and I was slipping out the backdoor of the house. My mother was sound asleep, and probably had been since 9 or 10. And even in the worst case scenario of her waking up and somehow discovering that I was gone, I doubted there’d be much in the way of consequences. She was the one who was always asking when I’d be making more friends besides Dale, and telling me to get out and do more ‘stuff that teenagers do.’

Well, here you go, Ma. I’m sneaking out of the house, late at night, like a teenager? How’s that?

It was a serenely quiet bike ride through town to get me back to Dale’s house. And, sure enough, I noticed that the house was completely dark when I got there. Not a creature was stirring. Except for Kristie, I hoped.

I popped the latch on the fence to the side of the house and let myself into their backyard. I’d done this countless times before over the years, but this would be the first that was at almost 1 in the morning. And certainly the first time I’d be helping myself into Dale’s backyard without him knowing I was coming.

“You’re a few minutes early,” said Kristie’s voice from somewhere. I spun around a few times, trying to see if I could find where she was.

“Too early?” I asked. “I could come back.” I was kind of joking, but I was also ready to pivot and head right back out the gate if she had asked.

“You’re good,” she said, stepping out from underneath the patio awning on the other side of the pool. “I’m glad you made it.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said, being careful not to speak too loudly.

She giggled, following the perimeter of the pool as she walked towards me. “We don’t have to be that quiet. All the bedrooms are closer to the front of the house. Trust me, they can’t hear shit back here if they’re sleeping.”

“Sounds like you know this from experience.”

I could see the big smile on her face as she got closer and closer. “Sometimes I like hanging out at the pool real late at night. I like having it all to myself.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I can imagine. It’s probably hard to get that sort of privacy around here with your brother around.”

“Of course, that’s not the only thing I like having all to myself…”

My heart was pounding as she got even closer. She was still wearing the same bikini she had been wearing earlier. I wasn’t about to ask if she had taken it off and put it back on, or if she had just been wearing it all day–but either seemed like curious options considering what I thought she had done in them earlier.

“Do you know what I like about you, Richie?” Her voice was smooth and sweet–her lips close enough to my ear that I swore I could feel the heat of her breath on my cheek.

“N-no…”

“Nobody else has ever looked at me the way you do. I mean, like, guys will gawk at me, you know? They do it all the fucking time. And I get it–I had tits long before every other girl in my class. But there’s always been a difference between the way they look at me and the way that you do.”

“Oh,” I said. I wished I had something more profound to say, but that was the best I could do as I continued to process her words.

“They see me as a thing, right? An easy lay or something like that. But every time I’ve ever caught you staring at me, it looks like you’re, I dunno, planning? Like you’re lost in some sort of fantasy where we’re getting married or buying a house together.”

Yeah, that was accurate some of the time. There had definitely been plenty of times, too, when I was imagining her bent over my bed, her ass up in the air as I guided my cock into her. I’d, of course, keep that to myself.

“I always told myself that my goal was to find a guy who looks at me the way that Richie Waller looks at me.”

“Oh,” I said again, completely blindsided by this revelation. Who would’ve thought that I had such real estate in her head?

“And then it just sort of hit me today when we were talking–maybe the guy I’ve always been looking for is…you. The actual Richie Waller.”

I took a deep breath. I could hear the words she was using, and I understood them–but I refused to believe that she actually meant what I thought she was saying.

Of course, this did recontextualize a part of our conversation–the part where she noted that I was an adult now.

“Like, I don’t know you all that well,” she continued. “But I still feel like I know you. Those looks you’ve given me over the years–I feel like I know everything about you that I need to know.”

“I…had no idea I was that expressive,” I said, chuckling. It made me wonder who else I had ever looked at like that.

“I trust you,” she said. “Isn’t that silly? Like, I feel like I can trust you with anything.”

“Well, that’s true,” I replied, sounding a little too eager, though there wasn’t much to be done about that at this point. “Y-you can tell me anything in the world.”

“That’s what I thought,” she said, her hand reaching out and grabbing mine. “Come with me.”

“Wh-where are we going?”

“You wanted a drink, didn’t you?”

She dragged me back around the pool–the same path she had taken to approach me–bringing me back to two chairs set up on the far side of the pool with a cooler between them. She opened it, pulling out two cans of beer. She kept one for herself and handed the other to me.

“Have you had beer before?” she asked.

“Oh yeah, of course,” I said. It was a lie. I had plenty of opportunities–Dale was perpetually volunteering to grab me one of his father’s, though I always declined.

“I can’t say I love it,” she said. “But you get a few in you and you really start to see the appeal.”

I cracked my can open, wasting no time in tipping it into my mouth like it was something I had done a thousand times before. While I think I’ve always had a vague idea of what beer tasted like, based on just the smell alone, I was not prepared for the taste. It didn’t help that this was, if I was to guess, the cheapest beer that Kristie could get her hands on. It tasted like ass.

Still, I swallowed it. I even released a little refreshed “Ahh,” like I had been craving that taste all day.

My mind was cluttered with attempts to dissect and decode everything Kristie had said to me since I arrived. Hell, there were spaces in my consciousness seemingly reserved for things she had said to me years ago, trying to determine if there was some sort of subtext I had missed out on back then.

“So, uh, you feel like you can trust me with anything?” I asked. I couldn’t tell if I was feeling bold, or if I had just reached capacity in my head and I needed to get something out. “Almost sounds like you have some secrets.”

“Who doesn’t?” she shrugged. “Do you have secrets, Richie?”

“Oh, probably,” I said, scratching my head.

“Wanna trade?” she asked. “A secret of mine for a secret of yours?”

“Yeah, okay. But I asked first, so…”

She giggled. “You asked me if I had secrets. You didn’t ask me what my secrets were.”

“Oh, uhm…”

“But I’ll go first,” she continued, winking at me. “Though maybe you can guess what it is. I’m pretty sure you noticed what I was doing when you were over here earlier today.”

“So you were actually pissing yourself? Right in front of me?”

“Guilty,” she shrugged. “I’m a filthy little pants-pisser. So, what did you think? Did you like the show?”

I laughed to myself, feeling kind of relieved at this revelation. If nothing else, I didn’t have to devote any more brainpower to figuring out if I actually saw what I thought I saw, and if I was supposed to have seen it or not.

“I…did, yeah. Is that weird?”

“No weirder than me pissing myself in front of you in the first place. But we can come back to this. First, I want to hear your secret.”

“Right. Well, uh…” Did I really have that many secrets? I hadn’t lived all that interesting of a life up to this point. I had a few little kinks, but they seemed kind of tame compared to wanting to piss yourself in front of other people.

“Go on,” she encouraged. “Anything.”

Then again, I did have one little tidbit I could share. I wondered if it was cheating, since it was almost too new of a thought to be considered a secret–though I was still sure she’d like to know it.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about you peeing in your bathing suit all day,” I said. “And, uh, yeah–it’s pretty hot.”

“That’s your secret?”

“N-no. See, I was thinking about what you did, and all the different ways that could’ve gone. Like, I wish that I had put my hand in the puddle you left behind…”

“Oh, really?” She was grinning, seeming to beam with pride.

“And…I even kind of wish that I got down on the ground and licked that puddle.”

“Oh my.”

“I…I even wish that I had swam between your legs and let you piss right into my mouth, through your bathing suit.” It was at this point that I realized I might be saying too much. I wished I had allowed myself to think about my words before I said them out loud.

She remained still for a moment, seeming to digest those words a little. And then she was smiling again.

“Richie Waller, I just knew it’d be a good idea to invite you over.”

===

Getting the piss talk out of the way, up front, seemed to have been a good call. With the most difficult conversation out of the way–and with the revelation that we were both quite comfortable with what had happened–it was remarkably easy to just have a normal conversation. We were sitting at the poolside, beers in hand, just talking about anything. We talked about college. About Dale’s ‘secret’ stash of pornography in the garage. About the old guy who used to run the ice cream shop in town.

I had never been all that suave with the ladies–hence the almost complete lack of sexual encounters in my life. But with Kristie, I felt like an absolute player. She hung on my every word. She’d look at me with that smile–the one that could probably get me to do almost anything in the entire word. Our bodies slowly slid closer and closer together until we were pressed against each other on the edge of the pool.

As the laughter from Kristie’s story about Dale dropping his own birthday cake began to fade, I decided to take a chance and shift the conversation back to where we had started. “Can I ask you another question?”

She grinned and nodded. “Of course. Anything.”

“So, have you been wearing that bathing suit all day?”

“Yep.”

“Even after you…”

“Uh huh.”

“Do you do that sort of thing often?”

She shrugged, her entire body seeming to curl up like a playful spring. “Mmmmaybe.”

“Have you ever done that in front of someone else before?”

She shook her head, her lips still locked in a smirk. I supposed it was easy enough for her to lie to me–I had no way of determining if it was actually the truth or not. But I chose to believe her. Or, at least, I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe that I was the special chosen one–the only one she could ever trust with her pissy fantasies.

“Do you want to feel?” she asked.

“F-feel? Like…your bathing suit?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Just put your hand right here between my legs. Tell me what it feels like to you.”

I felt paralyzed. I, so badly, wanted to reach out between her legs as she had asked, but I felt like I didn’t have the slightest clue how.

“Don’t be so timid,” she said, opening her own hand and extending it towards me. “Here, give me your hand.”

That much I could do. I slowly raised my limp wrist in her direction, allowing her to grab my hand with hers. Then, she did exactly what she said she was going to do–she slowly guided it between her legs, pressing my fingertips into the fabric of her bottoms. It felt warm, of course. But it also felt damp.

“That’s not still, er, wet from earlier, is it?” I asked.

“That was hours ago, silly. I’ve had to go a few times since then.”

“And you’ve just been…wetting yourself? Over and over again?”

She nodded. “That’s right. I don’t really care much for the potty.”

The potty. It was such a childish word to have used, but it also worked. Of course the girl who liked pissing her pants would call a toilet that.

“So you do this often?”

She nodded again. “Quite often.”

“And nobody knows?”

“No, I don’t think so,” she said. “I thought Dale might’ve known once. He went through a phase a few years ago where he was stealing my panties, I think. He was taking them out of my hamper. And if they were in there…then I almost certainly had pissed in them at some point.”

My hands suddenly felt clammy and I began to breathe faster. “Wh-what makes you think that your brother stole your panties?”

“Well, I don’t know why my Mom would want my panties, you know? And if she was going to do my laundry, she’d probably do the whole load, not just my underpants.”

“Right, right. But…why Dale?”

She laughed. “I mean…who else would it be?”

I was blushing. Not just blushing–my face felt like it was on fire. Part of me expected myself to just collapse on the ground.

“Oh…wait,” she said, her smirk coming back. “You? Richie Waller? Did you steal my panties out of my hamper a few years ago?”

“Fuck,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I completely forgot that I did that. Jesus, that was so pathetic.”

“It was you? Seriously?”

“I…well, yeah. Just once. I mean, I might have taken two or three pairs. But…”

“Holy shit. I had no fucking idea that was you. When did that happen? Where was I?”

“I was sleeping over here once. And you were gone–I have no idea where. A friend’s house, maybe? But it was really late at night and I snuck into your room. I grabbed them out of your hamper and shoved them in my bookbag.”

Kristie was laughing so hard that she was crying. She held up a finger, signaling that she needed a moment to compose herself as she stumbled away, her laughter coming in sputtering waves.

“I’m so sorry. Man, that was such a weird thing for me to have done. I shouldn’t have…”

“No, no,” she said, biting her lip when she could so as to not burst out in laughter again. “It’s totally cool. I’d much rather you be my fabled panty-thief and not have it be my fucking brother.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“What did you do with my panties, Richie? Like, after you left my house.”

“I…I really shouldn’t say.”

“Richie. You have to tell me.” It was an incredibly compelling argument.

“So…” The truth wasn’t pretty, but judging by the look on her face, that’s what she was hoping for. She wanted the truth to be dirty and ugly. She wanted it to be scandalous and disgusting. I sighed and just put it out there: “I’d usually rub them against myself. I would pretend that I was rubbing my dick against you while you wore your panties. And then, sometimes, I’d just press them against my face. And, like, smell them. Because I liked to think that I was smelling you.”

She shook her head slowly, seemingly completely delighted by the information I was revealing. “Richie, I probably pissed in those panties. And you were rubbing them in your face. I don’t know what you thought you were sniffing, but you were smelling my pissy panties.”

Now it was my turn to laugh. My secret shame, for the past few years, had been the few days I spent with Kristie’s dirty panties. Only I never had a clue just how dirty they actually were.

“I hope you don’t have any regrets,” she said.

“No,” I quickly said. I didn’t have to think about that answer much. “I wish I knew, though.”

“Would that have changed anything?”

“I’d probably have a piss fetish right now.”

“It’s never too late to start,” she said.

“Oh, trust me. You’ve already got me halfway there tonight.”

“Why don’t I take you the rest of the way, then?”

“Huh? I don’t know what…”

She interrupted me with a little shove backwards, my legs bumping into one of the chairs behind me. I suspected that this was where she wanted me, and I lowered myself into it. Then, she spun herself around so that her back was to me, before sitting on my lap.

I had dreamed of this day–feeling her ass on top of me. I had been vaguely aware of my erect cock since around the time we had cracked open our first cans of beer, but I had been pretty careful to conceal it as best as I could. There was no hiding it now–my rock-hard cock was pressed against her ass now.

“Does that feel good?” she asked, her voice soft and sensuous. “Do you like it when I’m on your lap?”

“Mmhmm,” I nodded. “I do.”

“I like it too,” she cooed. “Makes me feel like a bad little girl on Daddy’s lap.”

There was a lot to unpack there. It felt like she had just unloaded years of kinks and fantasies onto me with just that one sentence.

“Is, uh, that what you like?” I asked. “Being a bad girl? On Daddy’s lap?”

She offered a playful little “Mmm,” and wiggled her bottom in my lap. “I like it very much.”

“Does that make me Daddy?”

“That depends. Do you want to be my daddy?”

I was tempted to ask her what the job entailed, but the reality was that it didn’t matter. If she had said that I literally needed to adopt her and just provide food and shelter, I’d have still accepted it.

And so I kept my answer simple: “Yes.”

“I can be a handful,” she said.

“Oh, I believe it.”

“Wanna see?”

See? See what? Was she going to show me how she could be a handful? Yeah, I wanted to see that.

“Show me.”

Her body shook a little in my lap, like she was loosening herself up. She then reached behind herself, grabbing one of my hands and guiding it around her body so that she could slide it between the two of us. I could actually feel her pussy through the bathing suit bottom. I could feel its warmth. I could feel it quivering and pulsing.

And then, I could feel it getting warm. And wet.

“A-are you…pissing again?”

Her only response was an impassioned moan, a long and slow “Mmmmmmmmmm,” that seemed to go on for as long as she was peeing.

It took a moment or two for me to fully process what was happening. Oh, she’s pissing. Oh, she’s pissing directly on my hand. Oh, she’s still sitting on my lap. Oh, she’s pissing on my lap. Oh, my pants are now completely soaked because she’s pissing all over me.

“Well,” I finally said. “That’s just naughty.”

‘Naughty’ is a word I’ve rarely ever used in my life. I’m not even sure it’s one I’ve thought about all that much. And if I had, I was sure I’d think only of conversations between parents and children. ‘Naughty,’ to me, wasn’t all that sexy of a word. It was symbolic of immaturity. But saying that word in that moment, as she flooded my lap with piss, felt dirty. Suddenly, ‘naughty’ was the hottest thing in the entire world. It was so unbelievably sordid and filthy–and those feelings seemed expressed in my tone as I said the word aloud.

“D-do you really think so?” she asked, her voice sounding so sweet and innocent.

Not only was this a side of Kristie that I had never seen before, it was a side I couldn’t have ever even imagined. She was always so stoic and mature. She was composed. She was so smart and confident. In fact, it was those qualities that often inspired me to be more mature and collected myself. As if, one day, she’d see that I was far more like her than her brother.

But she seemed like a completely different person now. Now, she sounded like a little girl, sitting on Daddy’s lap while having an ‘accident.’

“You’ll take care of me, won’t you?” she asked, turning her head to stare at me with her big bright eyes and batting eyelashes.

“Of course,” I said, without any hesitation. “I’ll take good care of you.”

“Mm,” she moaned again. “I knew you’d be a good daddy.”

I could almost see the epic long-con she had pulled on me since we first met. All these years, she was poised as the hot older sister who would only be interested in men who were as mature as she was. And so that’s who I shaped myself into, only for her to reveal that she actually needed a mature man around so that she could…piss herself?

“Do big girls wet themselves?” I asked.

“No sir,” she said, shaking her head. “They don’t.”

“I didn’t think so.” I had to pause for a moment and think of what I was going to say next. Dirty talk had never been a skill of mine, and this situation called for advanced levels of dirty talk.

You can do this. What would Daddy say to his little girl?

“Are you saying I’m not a big girl?” she asked, her lips puffing out in a mock-frown.

“You are absolutely not a big girl,” I replied.

“So what am I, then?” That sweet tone remained, but it felt less like a question and more like a challenge. There was a correct answer, and she wanted to see if I knew it or not.

“Even little girls in pre-school know how to use a potty,” I said, recalling her use of ‘potty’ earlier, and feeling it would be good to toss out myself. “I think that makes you a baby.”

She practically melted into my lap upon hearing me utter the word. She moaned as she slowly began to grind her wet bottom into my lap. The poor girl–it was as if she had forgotten where she was, or even who she was, and had fallen into one of her own fantasies as she squirmed back and forth on my wet pants.

“I’m a baby?” she asked, squeezing the question in between two deep breaths.

“A pissy little baby,” I said. I was already rather fond of stoking this fire. It was astonishing to see her in such a state, and I was curious to see what else I could do with the power she had bestowed upon me.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she muttered. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“I don’t think these panties are working out for you,” I said. “Especially if you’re going to keep pissing yourself.”

“But…I hafta to wear something…” It was as if she was getting smaller and smaller in my lap. Physically and mentally.

“Well…what do babies normally wear? It’s not panties, right?”

She gasped aloud. And then she giggled. With some of her actual age restored to her tone, she turned around to look at me again, a big smile on her face. “What are you suggesting?”

“Diapers?”

“Oh fuuuuuck,” she muttered. I wondered if I had done something wrong, but then she began to repeat herself–the rhythm suggesting that I had actually done something right. “Fuck, fuck fuuuuuck.”

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I…think I’m…going to…”

She quickly pushed her thumb into her mouth. I couldn’t tell if she just needed the sensation of sucking on her thumb as she made herself cum on my lap, or if she just needed something in her mouth to prevent her from screaming out loud. It could’ve been both, of course.

Her body tensed for a moment as she moaned through her thumb, her bottom still wriggling in my lap, before she finally exhaled and let herself go limp. I did my best to hold her up and support her so that she didn’t just flop down onto the concrete. Meanwhile, my aching cock was dying for release itself. Her grinding had almost brought me to a climax myself, though I was kind of proud of myself for exerting enough control that I didn’t just blow a sticky load into my already wet pants. I supposed, at that point, there was no shame in it if I had–though I felt a little more ‘mature’ for having managed to last as long as I had.

“Diapers?” I asked again, giving her a few moments to recover before throwing it out there.

“Apparently,” she said, laughing to herself. “I kind of knew I liked the idea of them…but hearing you actually say the word to me? It, uh, made me…”

“Yeah, I saw.”

“Do you think I’m a freak?” she asked.

“I think you’re a baby.”

That was a good answer, it seemed, as she moaned again, leaning back against my chest. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close to me.

“This is dangerous,” she said, turning her body so that she could more easily cuddle against me.

“How so?”

“Do you have any idea how often I think about pissing my pants? How often I actually do it? I’ve been waiting a long time to have someone that I could share this with.”

I chuckled. “And…here I am.”

And, like that, she was grinding her soaked bottom into my lap again–her hips guiding her rear back and forth on me. For a moment, I thought she was going into round two for herself–but then I saw the way she was smiling at me when she turned her head. This round was for me.

“You should, uhm, cum,” she whispered.

I wanted to. And I probably would, eventually, whether she offered her suggestion or not. Still, I asked: “Here? In my pants?”

“They’re already wet, aren’t they?”

I laughed. “Everything is wet.”

“Just the way I like it.”

Me too–though this was a bit of a revelation. In a short amount of time, Kristie had managed to indoctrinate me into her church of wetness.

I lowered the last of my defenses, letting her rhythmic grinding work its magic. It seemed to take only seconds before I started sputtering grunts and groans. “Oh…fuck. I… You’re… I’m going to…”

It was the best release I had ever had in my life–my cock trapped in my tight, wet, pants as her ass smothered my lap. On top of everything else, the inside of my pants now felt sticky as well.

I thought that might be the end of our wild ride, but she stayed put on my lap, seeming to push her ass tighter against my cock–as if hoping my fresh cum would seep through my pants and her bathing suit so that she could feel it on her ass. Then, perhaps needing something more immediate, she just put her hand on my belly and slowly let it slide down my body and into my pants. She didn’t grasp my cock–in fact, she seemed to mostly ignore it. Instead, she buried her fingers in my pubic hair, playing with the goopy, sticky, mess I had made in my pants.

“You’re naughty,” I cooed to her.

“You have no idea.”

“No, I think I have a pretty good idea.”

She laughed. “We’ll do this again?”

I nodded. “The summer just started. That gives us plenty of time.”

===

It was almost 2 AM when I sneaked into Dale’s family’s backyard. Later than I’d have liked, but apparently Dale was up later than usual tonight–smoking weed by the pool. But Kristie has reported that he’s since passed out in his bedroom and the coast was clear.

She was sitting on the edge of the pool when I rounded the corner. She wasn’t wearing a bikini–though she hadn’t been the last few times I visited. Instead, she was wearing a cropped tank top–one that just barely concealed her tits and…a diaper. A child’s pull-up, to be more precise. We had tried a few different options–whatever we could get our hands on in local grocery stores. While the adult diapers were exciting in their own way, they weren’t very exciting to look at. She much preferred the pull-ups. She could just barely squeeze into the largest size, but once she did–they looked rather perfect on her. She liked the childish prints on them, though I think she also liked how naughty it was to wear something that wasn’t intended for a young woman at her age.

“Careful,” I said as I approached. “Get too close to the pool and you’ll get your diaper wet before you even get a chance to wet it yourself.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she grinned, playfully slapping the padding between her legs. “I’ve soaked this one pretty thoroughly before you got here.”

“Already? Baby, I know I’ve told you that I like to see you wet your pull-ups.”

“I know, I know. But I really had to go. I’d been holding it all day. There were a few moments where I thought I was going to piss myself in front of my family.”

“As amusing as that is,” I said, staring into space as I tried to imagine how that would play out, “I suppose it’s for the best that it didn’t happen.”

“Exactly. But come here and feel it. It’s very squishy. You’re going to like it.”

She knows me well. While I’d never get sick of stroking her pissy bathing suits and panties, there was something about a completely saturated diaper that just pushed all of my buttons at once. The physical sensation of squeezing her plump pull-up meeting the psychological pleasure of knowing how forbidden such an act was. Oh, and the way that she moaned when I touched her diaper–I was rather fond of that too.

I approach her, taking a seat next to her on the ledge, dipping my feet into the cool water. I waste no time in plunging my hand between her legs, letting my fingers squeeze and poke at the heavy padding. I was rewarded with her moan–directly into my ear.

“Are you going to change me?” she asked as her moaning finally receded.

One thing we had quickly discovered over the last few weeks was that we loved diaper changes. She’d lie down on her back and kick her feet up in the air so that I could pull her dirty pull-up down the length of her legs. I now carried a pack of baby wipes in the backpack I brought with me when I came to her house for our late-night rendezvous, and I’d draw one out to give her a good and thorough cleaning. Eventually, I’d slide a fresh pull-up down her legs–though this would sometimes be delayed by my need to make sure she was ‘extra clean’ with my tongue.

“Of course,” I said. “But I’m not in any rush to do that.”

“No?” she smiled. “Why not?”

“Well, for one, I don’t think you’re wet enough.”

“W-wet enough?” she laughs, her disbelief simultaneously sounding genuine and part of an act. “How much wetter do I need to be, Daddy?”

I love when she calls me Daddy.

“So, so, much wetter.”

“I don’t think this diaper is going to hold all of that.”

“You don’t think so?”

“I mean… We could find out.”

I nodded, reaching to her hand and taking it in mine. She then moved her hand, taking mine with hers, between her legs, planting our hands tight against the already-swollen bottom of her pull-up.

“Do you have to pee again?” I asked.

“Y-yes,” she said. “Any moment now.”

She leaned in towards me as we waited, kissing me on the lips–her lips wet and succulent.

While I was plenty focused on Kristie–our hands still waiting for her to flood her diaper again while our tongues played between our mouths–I was thinking about something else, too. I was thinking about how close Dale and his parents were to where Kristie and I were playing. If they were awake, they wouldn’t have to go far to see a scene that would absolutely confound them.

“Almost there,” Kristie whispered, an excitement hanging in her tone.

She was about to make a big puddle beneath herself. And when she did, I’d make her lie down in it.

“It’s…coming…”

I’d lift her legs straight up into the air and push aside the bottom of her soggy diaper so that I could shove my cock into her. And I’d fuck her right there as she wore her pissy pants–in the puddle of her own wetness.

“Oh! A little trickle.”

And when I climaxed, I’d pull out from her so that I could unleash my load directly into her diaper. If she wanted a diaper change tonight, she’d need to wear that diaper around just a little longer.

“Oh, wow…here comes the stream. It’s…it’s a lot more than I thought it’d be.”

“Let it out,” I said. “Let it all out.”

I could already see the puddle forming beneath her, growing as she continued to piss into the at-capacity pull-up. The puddle made its way to me, saturating the bottom of my shorts. But I didn’t even think about moving. I stayed in place, relishing the feeling of the warm liquid making contact with my own skin.

It was going to be another wet night.