Wet Revenge Pt. 02

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I woke up the next morning in nothing but the coral pink knickers I had peed in last night. When I got up to relieve myself as I always needed to first thing in the morning, I didn’t even bother peeling my panties off first, choosing instead simply to wet through them on the toilet. Sitting down to pee without removing my underwear felt so wrong but so right. I let my fingers drift over my slit through the fabric as my yellow stream drizzled through, enjoying the way it felt as the wee soaked the gusset all the way up to my big juicy ass. Being hungover always made me horny, but cheeky piss play made it ten times worse. I began to stroke my clit more vigorously through my pee soaked panties, parting my pussy lips inside them so they slightly stuck out of the lacy lining. My clear and sticky pussy juice mingled with the piss, making every little motion wet and loud. I had to shift the wet knickers out of the way to cram a hastily licked finger up my tight little arsehole, while the other hand tickled my clit until I was almost on the edge of ecstasy. That’s when there was a knock at the door.

“Are you in there Lisa?” Said Susan. Well who else would it bloody be?! I composed myself, removing my fingers from my clit to stop myself from cumming but keeping my other finger wedged up my ass. “Yes. Why?” I called back.

“The neighbour has just been over. He wants a word with you tonight! He’s said for you to come round at 7.”

Oh god. Suddenly it all came flooding back to me. Seeing him cranking his cock in the window just out of view as I spread my lips and rained hot desperate pee all over his beloved garden. Maybe he hadn’t been touching himself at all. I started to panic that ostim escort I’d made that bit up, that I was in big trouble. Either way, I wanted to hear what he had to say.

Me and Susan spent a lovely wholesome day together, going for walks on the beach and having a nice meal out. Lots of coffees, followed by lots of beer – and few chances to visit the big girls room to drain my poor bladder. By the time 7 rolled around, I was ready to burst – and ready to show my neighbour a double dose of punishment for being so rude if he tried to tell me off.

Despite hating the guy, I found myself getting dressed up. He thought I should cover up, so I made sure to wear a thin blue crop top without a bra, to show off my puffy nipples and the small curve of my untoned tummy, now a little bloated from all the beer saved up in my bladder. I initially pinched my nipples, enjoying watching them harden under the flimsy fabric, but then I decided against it and cupped my modest boobs to make them warm and soft again. That pig probably couldn’t stand to see a normal woman’s body – or to see a woman being confident without looking like a Victoria’s Secret model. “Well there’s no way I’m covering up for him” I thought as I rifled through my luggage in search of just the right bottoms to both compliment the top and wind him up. Perfect: tiny grey cotton booty shorts that clung to my curves and gave me a noticeable camel toe. That’ll show him.

I walked over to his in my outfit, feeling brave and slightly anxious at the same time. I was ready to give him an argument he wouldn’t soon forget. But not too much of an argument, as I knew I’d be needing to borrow his toilet soon ankara otele gelen escort – or I’d end up doing to his floor what I did to his garden, only this time he’d be there to wank his cock in my stream…

“Hello. Thanks for coming round. I believe we have something to discuss. Have a seat.” He said as he let me in. He was being surprisingly civil – but that didn’t stop him looking me up and down in disgust at my choice of clothes. He gestured to the two-seater sofa in the living room. “Can I get you a drink or anything?”

I shook my head no, but he raised his eyebrows and said “After you did what you did, you’re really going to be so impolite as to reject my offer of a drink?” So I begrudgingly asked him for a cup of tea, knowing full well my bladder was already working overtime to keep my panties dry. When he’d finished making it, he came back and said he had something I needed to see. He hit play on the TV remote and a close up video of a woman squatting down and showering the flowers with her naughty nectar whirred into action. Obviously it didn’t take long to realise it was me. He’d caught the entire thing on camera. And the quality was good enough to see everything, even in the dusky light. I could see my labia being peeled apart by the stream, the ripples of bliss on my face each time a particularly juicy burst arced out of me, the tiny splashes of pee soaking my knickers, and the fact that I had slowly, without even knowing it, been delicately stroking my little clit all the while.

We watched it in silence. Despite the fact I knew I was in big trouble, I loved seeing myself captured on screen like that. My self esteem ankara rus escort wasn’t always fantastic but I was undeniably hot in my tight skirt, squirting jets of piss into the warm evening air.

“Now, I just want to know one thing. Why do you think it’s acceptable to urinate in my garden?” He asked as the video ended with my guilty escape.

“I… I don’t. I was just angry at you. I’m sorry!” He wasn’t expecting me to be compliant and I could see it as his expression and demeanour softened considerably, as if an apology for using his flowerbed as my own personal potty was all he wanted. “But you shouldn’t have said what you said.”

“I think I have the right to smoke in my own garden.” He said indignantly.

“No, not that. That doesn’t matter. I was upset because you asked me to cover up.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Of course! Why do you think I’m dressed like this now?!” I gestured to my body, the booty shorts all ridden up and bunches around my pussy from the walk over, my nipples soft and straining against the thin crop top. “I just wanted to wind you up.”

He smiled. “I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong end of the stick.”

“What do you mean?”

“I did want you to cover up, but only because your sexy little body was driving me mad.”

My heart skipped a beat. Surely he was joking.

“Seeing you sat there in your chair on the patio with your plump little tits and big bouncy ass was torture. I hope you can forgive me for being crude, but I wanted to jerk off right there and then in the garden.” I felt a familiar warmth and sticky wetness in my underwear, and hoped I wouldn’t get so excited that it leaked on through to my light grey shorts.

“Like you did in the window. You must have been pleased you had CCTV to catch me with my kitty out watering your plants then!”

His face fell a little, suddenly blushing. “What? What is it?”

“That wasn’t CCTV. When I realised you were pissing, I filmed it myself.”

To be continued.

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