As a form of punishment I make my wife hold her pee and she wets her favorite jean shorts
This story involves a woman’s “forced” desperation to hold her pee, peeing in her jean shorts and mutual arousal from that pee play. If these things don’t interest you, don’t read . . .
My wife, Heather, and I both went on a cruise recently to Mexico. Of course, we both ate too much and put on a few extra pounds. When we returned home, I was sitting on the couch next to her one night idly rubbing and stroking her back. We were watching TV and chatting about needing to work out and lose the weight. Heather mentioned that she need a “workout cop” to monitor her progress.
This story is about how I became her “workout cop” and used her love of naughty peeing to keep her focused. Or, more importantly, how I used her love of naughty pee to my maximum benefit . . . lol.
As I continued to rub her back, I asked her what rewards or punishments she would need to stay on track with exercise. Heather laughed and said the back rubbing was a good start and maybe some naughty pee play; she wasn’t sure about a punishment but she knew I could come up with something good.
So, we came up with the following plan: she would work out four days a week and, if she had a good day of exercise and watched her food intake, she’d get a back rub when she wanted it and she’d get her pussy licked while peeing (which she readily admits she now LOVES and it drives her absolutely wild). Of course, this “reward” also is good for me because watching her piss, and eating her while she does it, drives me crazy, too, and just leads to some hot sex.
For the punishment, I told her it would involve some naughty peeing in public, but nothing illegal and she wouldn’t get hurt. I told her she’d have to follow all of my commands on that day--no ifs, ands or buts. Heather gave a wink and agreed.
Heather worked hard for several weeks, exercised like a champion, and watched her weight. She looked great and was rewarded with lots of backrubs and had her pussy eaten (while she flooded my face and floor) several times each week. Each session left her with a screaming orgasm.
Of course, after a few weeks, she had a day where she missed her exercise. That was a Friday and she admitted that night that she was too busy and tired that day to get it done. I reminded her about the agreement. She smiled and said she’d just have to take her punishment like a good girl and she’d get back to exercise the next day. I kissed her and told her that the next day, Saturday, she’d have to do exactly what I told her as a punishment. Heather laughed and said she was both worried and looking forward to it at the same time.
The next morning, I directed Heather to drink several cups of coffee in the morning. I also directed her to put on her favorite jean shorts, which really hug her shapely hips and butt. Her jean shorts are a very dark blue, almost bordering on black, and they are sexy as hell. Finally, I asked her if she still had Stacey’s thong panties, the one she wore home after the two of them peed in the bathroom of the restaurant together (a story which I wrote about and posted in this forum).
Heather paused for a few beats before answering; she swallowed hard and then nodded. I had not mentioned those panties since the time Heather wore them home (they were damp with Stacey’s pee and when we got home we fucked like animals, with Heather peeing a large puddle on the kitchen floor; after Heather peed, I took her from behind while she kneeled doggie style in her own hot pool of spray). I really didn’t know what Heather had down with the panties since that night.
“What about them”? Heather asked, her voice low.
“Wear them under your jean shorts.”
Heather nodded and left. She returned a few minutes later, her face flushed. She had on the jean shorts and a loose blouse. I could just make out her the press of her heavy breasts against the top.
“Drink your coffee,” I ordered. “You’re going to hold your pee until I tell you to piss.”
It was about seven-thirty in the morning when we started this. By 8:30 a.m. Heather was squirming. By 9:00 a.m. Heather was pushing her hand across her crotch over her jeans and bouncing her legs.
“Need to release?” I asked.
“Yes,” Heather said, her voice cracking a little.
“Not yet. I want to see you really struggle.”
Heather’s face flushed and she stood up. She started doing a little pee-pee dance with her eyes closed and her hands pressing against her crotch.
“It’s working,” Heather gasped.
I was getting aroused knowing my wife’s bladder was so full and she was struggling to maintain her composure. I wanted nothing more than to see her desperate and then wet her tight shorts in a huge gushing release.
“I want you to piss your shorts and Stacey’s panties,” I told her.
In the past, I had encouraged and asked Heather to piss her jean shorts or other pants. I knew this was something she was not keen to do. Heather did enjoy peeing her panties, and on occasion would bring home wet panties from work and present them to me before we fucked like animals. Peeing her pants fully, something that I thought was very naughty and erotic, was just something Heather did not find sexy or fun.
Heather looked at me for a few beats. “I don’t want to wet my best shorts,“ she said.
“I know, which is why you’re going to do it today. Besides, what did you promise about today?“
“To do what you told me.“
“Good girl. Are you ready to be a bad girl and wet your best shorts?“
“Yes, sir,“ Heather moaned, dancing again on her toes. “Can I go soon, please?” Heather pleaded.
“Go into the kitchen and stand on the tile while I get a towel,” I told her.
Heather walked slowly to the middle of the kitchen. It was clear she was near bursting as she almost had to walk on her tip-toes while she pushed her hands against her full bladder.
I put a towel on the floor and directed Heather to stand on it.
“Unbutton your jeans and put a hand down your pants,” I ordered.
Heather undid the top two buttons and she breathed a sigh of relief as the pressure eased on her aching bladder. She slid her hand down into her pants.
“Rub your clit,” I ordered. “Rub yourself like a good pee girl before you wet your shorts.”
Heather began moving her fingers. She closed her eyes and her mouth became slack. She squatted a little lower over the towel, spreading her feet wider so that her ass was several feet above the floor. The entire time, Heather kept her hand down her pants, rubbing her clit.
I know that act, rubbing herself while she peed, was the single biggest turn-on for her. She told me she always felt an incredible rush as she flicked her clit while piss poured from her pee hole. And, she admitted, it made her feel very sexy and erotic, especially when she did it in naughty places like public bathrooms or, on occasion, outside somewhere. Heather once admitted to me that she ducked behind a huge dumpster in a back alley of a large business to wet the cement while she frigged her clit. Trust me, she got fucked hard that night when she retold the story.
My cock grew hard as I watched my wife pleasuring herself with a full bladder, about to spray her tight jean shorts and the naughty thong that previously belonged to Stacey, a woman Heather barely knew.
Heather moaned a little more and then I saw the first drops of pee begin to form on the edges of her shorts. The jean material was so dark I could barely make out a wet spot but it was unmistakable that Heather was wetting herself as her hand continued to rub her clit. Her stream of hot water steadily increased in volume. Some of her pee streamed and dropped directly from her shorts right below her crotch and it began to pool on the towel while other streams of pee poured down her legs to her knees before dripping and rushing onto the towel beneath her feet.
Heather gushed into her shorts and frigged her clit for what felt like a full minute as my cock pulsed and grew watching the naughty show. When she finished releasing the pressure from her bladder, Heather remained crouched for another minute, still rubbing her clit inside her now soaked shorts.
When she finished, she blinked and then slowly stood up. Her face was flushed and her breasts were heaving. Based on past experience, I knew she was now very aroused and ready to get fucked. She would love to hear me tell her what I naughty pee slut she was while I fucked her and she’d have a screaming orgasm while I licked her pussy clean of her hot piss.
But, not right now. Today, she was being punished.
I handed Heather a large cup of soda I had ready and I looked at her intently. She took the cup slowly with a questioning look on her face.
“Drink it,” I said. “We’re not done.”
Heather slowly began to drink. I took a dry towel and wiped her legs clean.
“Come with me,” I ordered.
“No questions. Come.”
I led her to the garage. Earlier in the morning, I had placed a large sheet of plastic over the passenger seat of our car. I ordered her to get in the car.
“I’m wet,” Heather protested.
“Yes, and you’re going to get wetter,” I said. “Get in.”
“I don’t want to go out like this. I’m soaked in piss.”
“Exactly. You’re going to go and you’re going to do what you’re told today.”
I looked at her hard and then winked. I smiled slowly at her. Heather smiled back.
“Your shorts are so dark it doesn’t even look like you’re really wet,” I said. “Trust me. You’re going to have fun this morning and be punished like a good pee babe.”
“Trust you?” Heather said, rolling her eyes, but I knew I had won because she was still smiling.
Heather got into the car and sat on the plastic and we headed out. The plastic sheet covered her entire seat and the floor in front of her.
“How do you feel? I asked.
I took her to a local Wal-Mart. On the way, Heather finished her large cup of soda. She complained that her shorts were getting cold but I told her she’d warm them up again soon. Even on the first Saturday of November, it was still warm in our part of California. So, Heather wouldn’t suffer too much from cold as the pee dried.
Inside the Wal-Mart I made Heather walk around with me. Of course, I bought her another huge fountain soda and told her the sooner she finished it, the sooner her punishment would end.
I’ll admit I was very aroused knowing my wife was walking around in the store with soaked shorts and panties, and that she was filling her bladder again.
We spent over an hour in the store, and I bought Heather a refill on her soda, before she started visibly squirming again.
While we stood in the electronics department, I pushed against her back and whispered in her ear, “Have to piss bad?”
Heather pushed her ass against my crotch and she nodded slowly. My cock gave a little jump.
We walked for a few more minutes. At this point Heather occasionally had to stop when the pressure became too intense. She exhaled loudly and slowly. She also had to dance from one foot to another a few times. It was clear she was near bursting again and would have to relieve her pressure.
That was confirmed a few minutes later when Heather turned to me. “I can’t last another minute. I’m starting to cramp.”
The look of desperation in her eyes told me she was serious. As much as I wanted her to gush in the store somewhere, in a corner with no one around, I knew that wasn’t a good idea. The last thing I wanted was for her to be spotted and get into trouble . . . real trouble . . . like accused of criminal misconduct. So, despite my raging cock and a vision of her spraying her tight jeans in public, I swallowed hard and calmed down.
“Go to the bathroom and find a nice stall. Wet your shorts again in there just like before and then come find me in the sporting goods department.”
Heather turned and marched away. I saw her hands fall down to her stomach as she hurried for the bathrooms.
It took about ten minutes before she returned. When she appeared, her face was flushed again like it did when she was sexually aroused. Her face, however, also looked more relaxed than before she left for the bathroom.
She pressed up against me and smiled.
“I was a good girl,” she whispered. “Meaning I was very naughty and did what you asked.”
My cock got hard again. I dropped a hand down to her shorts and rubbed across her crotch. The denim was soaked again. I brought my fingers to my mouth and licked; the taste was unmistakable, and highly arousing: my wife’s piss all over her shorts.
My cock was throbbing. “Let’s go,” I growled to her.
Back in the car, I headed for home and made Heather give me all of the details. I also ordered her to undo her top buttons and put a hand down her to her clit and rub herself in her wet shorts while she told me her naughty story.
“I went into the bathroom and I found an empty stall with a drain,” she said, slowly rubbing herself. “I had to go so bad at that point, I was nearly doubled over. I undid my shorts like they are now and I started rubbing myself.”
She paused for a second and when I glanced over, I saw she had her eyes closed and she was rubbing. A little moan escaped her mouth.
“Tell me what happened,” I hissed. My cock was screaming hard at this point and I was desperate to get home and start fucking her.
Heather swallowed hard and opened her eyes.
“I started pissing right away. It was hard at first. Just a little dribble came and then I gushed everywhere.”
“Did it feel good to wet your shorts in a public bathroom?” I asked, my voice cracking.
“Yes,” Heather moaned. “I was very bad. I stood over the drain and wetted my shorts like a bad girl.”
“Did you get aroused?”
“Why?” I asked.
“It felt so naughty to wet my shorts and so good to get that pee out that I just felt weak.”
“You were gone a long time,” I noted.
“I stayed and played some after I finished. Sat on the closed toilet lid and rubbed myself. I almost came, too,” Heather admitted.
We pulled into the garage. Heather was still rubbing her clit, her eyes closed and her mouth opened as her breasts rose and fell to her rhythms.
“I have to pee a little more,” she suddenly said.
Heather smiled. “You gave me a lot of soda to drink.”
“Let’s go,” I said.
“No. I want to do it here,” Heather said.
“You want to piss your jeans in the car?” I asked.
“Yes,” Heather hissed.
I undid my shorts and pulled out my cock. I leaned my seat back and started stroking myself. Heather continued to rub her clit.
“Damn, baby,” I moaned. “Watching you act like a piss slut is such a turn on.”
Heather moaned, too, and rubbed faster. She scooted her ass forward and spread her legs. She arched her back so her breasts pushed up and she rubbed furiously. A few seconds later, a huge puddle began to grow under her butt and between her legs. The unmistakable aroma of her urine filled the car as she squirted her jeans and masturbated in her own puddle in the car parked in our garage.
I stroked my cock furiously.
When she finished, I got her out of the car. She left behind a nice puddle on the plastic sheet.
Inside the house, I had her stand in our bedroom while I kneeled in front of her wet shorts. I ran my hands across her wet crotch and slowly pulled them down. She had soaked all of the fabric around her crotch and over her legs. The back of her shorts over her ass was absolutely drenched in piss.
I helped her out of her soaked jeans and I returned to her wet muff. Only the thin thong panties covered her wet pussy. I ran my face across the small strip of fabric that covered her slit and Heather shivered. I ran my fingers across that same stretch of piss soaked fabric and Heather moaned.
“Did you like pissing and soaking Stacey’s panties?” I asked.
Heather just moaned louder and I stood up. I turned her around with my hands and made her bend over. I slapped her ass on the left cheek and then harder on her right one. The smack echoed for a second; the contact seemed even louder because her ass was still slick and glistening from her own hot pee.
I pulled her wet thong off and ordered her down to her knees. Heather groaned as she got down and then put her ass up for my view. She groaned again as my hard cock easily slid into her sopping wet pussy. I began to fuck her with abandon. I reached my hands around and desperately began to undo her blouse and bra. We got her top and bra off and I began fucking her so her tits bounced in rhythm to my cock.
I wish I could tell you that I lasted for an hour and fucked her silly. No such luck. After watching her desperation all morning and watching her piss her jean shorts three separate times, I needed badly to squirt my cum. I shot load after load into my wife’s sopping wet hole. I buried my cock deep up her twat and let loose while I continued to pound my hips into hers, slapping her ass with my body.
When finished, I put her on the bed on a towel and ordered her to pull back her legs.
Her pussy was a sopping wet mess. Her pubic hair was still soaked and slick with her own piss, pussy juice and my cum. I greedily put my mouth to her. Heather almost screamed as my tongue ran the length of her slit and found her clit. I could still taste the intoxicating remnants of her piss on her moist lips as I ate her. It didn’t take long before Heather’s body was convulsing and her thighs pressing against my head as my tongue gave her an orgasm that lasted almost a full minute.
When finished, we collapsed on the bed together, panting and recovering.
“Damn,” I said.
“Uh, huh,” Heather replied.
“I thought you didn’t like to wet your shorts,” I said.
“Could have fooled me.”
“Let’s just say I knew how aroused you were, and that made it really hot for me.”
“Let’s just say I can’t wait until you miss your next workout day.”
That was over a week ago. So far, she hasn’t missed another work out day, but she wore the same jean shorts yesterday and left the house without me. When she came back, they were soaked in her piss, and I fucked her again.