Peeing in the Bath By Misty Meadow
My mum wanted to remodel our bathroom. Ours was an old house and the bathroom was enormous, with a claw footed tub in one corner that was not much bigger than the tiny tubs one finds in modern flats, only able to accommodate one bather at a time and most of the floor space was wasted. As a youngster, I'd sit in the tub between Mum's thighs, leaning back comfortably against her soft breasts as she shampooed my hair, lathered my back, my chest and my legs, running her soapy hands up my thighs until they reached the top, where my tingling pee-pee waited for her tender touch.
But as I grew older and bigger the space became increasingly cramped and by the time I was eight, it was virtually impossible for us to fit in it; so she bought one of those rubber hoses that plugs on to the tap, with a shower head on the other end, and rigged up a curtain so we could shower together, which, though it did the job, was not nearly as satisfying. We missed the intimacy of the tub in which we'd soaked for hours, talking, reading, embracing and, yes I admit it, peeing.
Yes, I confess we peed in the tub. "The dilution factor is enormous," Mum explained, "thousands to one and in any case, fresh pee is sterile: that's a scientific fact, so pee away to your heart's content, my love; I do. I enjoy it because as a child I was punished and sternly told never to pee in the swimming pool either, which was ridiculous given the volume of water involved. So I rebelled, rejoicing in my depravity, peeing in the tub and other places where little girls aren't supposed to: farmers' fields, graveyards, behind haystacks and on one memorable occasion, from the top of the church tower late at night. I was a very naughty little girl."
"Did you pee with your friends?" I asked, fully aware of her lesbian history.
"Whenever possible, but though some little girls pee for fun, very few enjoy it the way I do."
Bathing singly in our crude shower, we'd soon run out to things to do and thus the whole event was over in minutes, our intimate ablutions a thing of the past, a distant lovely memory.
She looked at a variety of tubs in the big hardware outlets, made a choice and called in contractors who estimated the job would take about two weeks, so rather than put up with the mess, we went away on holiday and left them to do it. We selected a naturist resort on the south coast of France, a hotel with a private beach, and spent an exciting fortnight naked from dawn to dusk. Mum had several gay encounters with other gay women, some of them secretly behind their husbands' backs, and I developed a crush on a nineteen year old student who had the body of a ballet dancer, tall and slender with boobs not much bigger than my own flat chest. I was eleven, my period in the distant future, but I was filled with passion and growing sexual feelings. I asked her to kiss me and even offered to let her touch me anywhere she liked, but though she said I was attractive in a sexy way, she was too afraid of the consequences of "molesting" a preteen child, so we did nothing more than kiss, leaving me frustrated.
Nevertheless, it was a thrilling holiday, and ignoring the fat, the ugly and the prudish women, and all males, I was able to enjoy looking at naked girls my own age and older, fantasising about doing "dirty" stuff I'd seen on the internet. All too soon, our stay ended and we flew home to our renovated house.
When Mum saw the bathroom, she was over the moon. The new tub, gleaming white, was about ten feet long and four wide, an elliptical shape with, one end against the wall and accessible from both sides. It had four bubble jets and, sculpted in its broad rim were shaped places where you could rest your head. It had drink holders, like car. To call it a tub didn't do it justice; it was now a bath in the most luxurious sense of the word; the ancient Romans would've loved it. Candle sconces were mounted on the walls around it.
No sooner had the contractors been paid and left, we ran into the bathroom, started to fill it, lit the candles, doused the light and took our clothes off. Mum poured glasses of wine, mine diluted with water. One drawback was that it took a long time to fill and required an indecent amount of hot water, but the contractors had installed a water heater big enough for the job.
When the water was a foot or so deep, we poured in bath salts, stepped in, lay down and while we waited for it to fill Mum took a bottle of body wash and handed it to me. I knew exactly what to do, overjoyed to be back in our old routine and I soaped her back from behind she knelt on all fours (impossible in the old tub), lathered her bum cheeks, then reached beneath her to spread suds on her dangling breasts, running the flat of my palms over her nipples, then tweaking them with my fingers, rolling them between forefingers and thumbs. I'd have liked to lather her cunt, but our intimacy hadn't progressed that far, yet.
She attended to my own needs, soaping my whole body, lightly running a hand between my legs, too briefly to be sexual, but deliciously intimate, nevertheless. As we'd done in the old tub, we pushed soapy fingers up each other's bums, ostensibly for hygiene purposes, but also because we like the feeling.
"We'll never have skid marks on our knickers," she explained. We lay back and soaked, sipping wine until our hands began to wrinkle, then climbed out and toweled each other dry.
"It's perfect," she pronounced, "but it uses a lot of water for just two people; we need more bodies in it. How about inviting some of your friends for a sleepover and we can all bathe together?" What an exciting idea! I knew just whom to invite.
"I'll ask Bobbi, you know, the girl at my birthday party who hung around you doe-eyed all evening `cos she had a crush on you and . . ."
"I remember her; she was lovely. Does she still feel the same way?"
"I think so."
"And you'll invite Lesley, of course." Mum knew I had feelings for Lesley who, at twelve, was in the class above me.
Next day at school, both girls eagerly agreed to come and play tennis, have dinner and spend the night and they all arranged parental permission, so, on Friday, after school, Mum drove all three of home. We were in our school summer dresses, with white ankle socks and sneakers, but Mum had chosen her outfit carefully. Instead of tennis shorts, she wore a white pleated flared skirt which only just covered her bum and the ordinary white cotton knickers that had that scalloped elastic round the legs that distinguishes them as underwear. A white polo shirt covered her bra-less boobs, small and firm.
We banged the ball about clumsily for an hour or so; none of us had any skill at the game, and then went indoors to eat a spinach salad with lots of nuts and raisins, followed by two huge pizzas with a wide range of toppings, which disappeared with un-ladylike haste. We sat, licking sauce off our fingers, gently burping.
"Don't bother washing your hands, girls, we're all going to take a bath." This produced bewildered looks until she explained about our new tub. "It's enormous, more than big enough for all of us and bath time has become the highlight of the evening for Misty and me." Their faces lit up. "Come on, upstairs, everyone."
In the bathroom, Mum rapidly stripped off. I like to watch her undress, usually slowly, often in a teasing way, but she was naked in seconds, I imagine to loosen the shyness of the others. I followed suit and watched the girls take of their sneakers, socks, dresses and knickers, my eyes darting from one to the other. The tub had been slowly filling during dinner and was now full, so Mum turned the taps off and the bubble jets on, dumped in a whole jar of bath salts and handed out bottles of body wash. She stepped in and we followed, finding the temperature to be perfect. A thermostat added hot water automatically from time to time.
"There's only one rule," Mum announced. "Now, we all know that everyone pees in the bath, right?" The girls giggle. "Misty and I do, too, always. Why waste water flushing the loo? But . . ." she paused for effect, ". . . you're only allowed to pee either standing up or sitting on the edge, so we can see you."
"Mum has a thing about watching girls pee," I explained. They looked at each other, grinning.
"I suppose it could be fun," Bobbi admitted, willing to do anything to please Mum.
"Fine by me," Lesley announced.
"I'll go first," said Mum, sitting on the edge, parting her legs, adjusting her cunt lips with her fingertips so that her pee arced high before splashing into the water. We all stared, fascinated.
"Mum," I complained, "you need a shave; look, you're all stubbly." Now this was a little stratagem she and I had cooked up earlier.
"Then get the shaving stuff from the vanity," she responded, as planned. The girls were agog as I climbed out of the tub and fetched the necessary items. "You know what to do, Misty." I knelt, waist deep in the scented water, lathered up the brush and ran it all over her pubic area. I could hear giggles and whispers behind me.
"Oooh! This feels nice!" said Mum. "Put plenty on. You should shave me more often, Misty." I took the razor and carefully shaved her pubic area, pulling her lips aside and covering her clit with my finger when the razor neared it. When I finished, she dipped her lower body underwater to rinse traces of soap, and sat back on the edge. "Check for smoothness, Sweetie." This was the bit I'd been waiting for; it gave me an excuse to actually touch her cunt. I ran my hand over the whole area, taking my time.
"Smooth as a baby's bum," I pronounced, then turned to the girls and said, "Wanna check for yourselves?" They looked at each other incredulously, then at Mum who nodded her head in approval. On their knees, they lunged for Mum and Bobbi beat Lesley to the punch, as it were, stroking Mum's cunt from pubis to perineum, an excited look on her face.
"Let me!" Lesley cried, pushing Bobbi's hand away and having a good feel for herself.
"Oh, girls, you make me feel so good!"
"I need to pee," Lesley announced. Her former shyness had evaporated and she stood at one end of the bath, knees slightly bent, fingers pulling her lips apart, looking down at herself as her stream shot out, almost splashing me. I wouldn't have minded if it had; there's nothing wrong with pee, as Mum so often told me. I could see a wisp of dark hair above Lesley's cunt and now that I had time to inspect her body, I saw for the first time that her boobs were just beginning to bud, her nipples larger than mine. She was right on the edge of puberty.
"You have pubic hair!" I announced.
"You should shave it off," Mum advised
"But I like my hair. It means I'm growing up."
"But I love you just as you are, a little girl." Mum's use of the L word must've tipped the balance because Lesley agreed to be shaved.
"By Misty," Mum suggested.
"Okay," Lesley said, sitting up on the edge of the bath and spreading her thighs. I took the shaving brush, knelt and lathered her up. I don't know if this was the first time Lesley had let another person touch her cunt, but it was a wonderful introduction to my tender touch. I stroked away, applying far more soap than necessary, brushing her cunt lips with the badger-hair brush. She had an expression of bliss on her face. All it required was a couple of passes of the razor, but I drew it back and forth, over and over to prolong the job. Then I wiped her with a face cloth, pressing my fingers into her as she sat, head thrown back, eyes closed, breathing rapidly. Then it was time to do the smoothness check and no one could call me perfunctory. I ran my palm all over the pubic area and between her legs for several long, thrilling seconds.
"Come, girls, see how smooth she is." And everyone got to finger Lesley's gorgeous little cunt.
"I'm still bald," Bobbi announced, standing up to let us look at her prominent mound with its "little-girl" slit, quite like my own.
"Are you sure?" Mum asked, kneeling down to take a close look, "just in case she's missed her first few hairs." She brought her face close to her cunt, then ran her hand over it as though feeling for stubble. Bobbi shuddered with excitement. Without warning, she peed, her stream shooting out and hitting Mum in the face. Anyone else would have been offended but on the contrary, I knew Mum was delighted to be humiliated in this intimate way.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Bobbi cried, though I didn't believe her. If she was as devious as I, she'd planned it.
"It's fine, Bobbi," Mum chortled, "a little pee never hurt anyone. To be honest, I quite enjoyed it." She smiled, but Lesley looked incredulous.
"I'd better check yours, Misty," Lesley said, emboldened by our shameless behaviour. We reversed positions and she ascertained that my cunt was still like a little girl's. Her fingers on my treasure made me want to pee, so I stood up high on the rim of the bath, spread my legs and put my hands on my bum cheeks. Leaning back, I peed, a jet of pale pee shooting up, scattering into a shower and falling down to where Mum (in anticipation) had positioned herself. Her tits became drenched with my pee, which trickled down her body, over her cunt and down into the water.
"Bravo!" Mum cried. "More! Give me more!" But I was empty.
"That was fun, guys, wasn't it?" I crowed, seeing three happy faces.
`Let's all calm down and relax, girls," Mum pleaded, after dunking herself to rinse off my pee. She sat with her back to the edge of the tub and invited Bobbi to sit between her thighs and lean back against her. One hand caressed Bobbi's chest, her fingers playing with her nipples and I knew from my early years that unseen, below the foam on the water's surface, her other fingers would be doing what she'd done to me when she first wakened my lesbian urges.
I asked Lesley to adopt the same position with me, and she happily settled between my legs and leaned back against me. I put my arms round her and whispered in her ear.
"Do you know what Mum's doing to Bobbi?"
"What?"
"This" I slid one hand down her tummy, pressing my fingers against her cunt lips, then pushed my middle one in. There was no resistance from her hymen so I assumed it had been broken by her own fingers, or a hairbrush perhaps, or even the fingers of another girl. I wasn't jealous; if she'd had flings with other girls, I was happy for her, because now she loved only me.
The minutes rolled by as we all enjoyed each other's bodies, our inhibitions melting away in the warm water.
After a while, Mum abruptly announced, "I think it's time we girls got into some serious lesbian sex, don't you agree?"
"YES!" I cried, eagerly. Bobbi looked excited.
"Like kissing and stuff?" Lesley asked.
"Yes," said Mum, "but special kissing." Lesley looked puzzled.
"On the cunt," I whispered in her ear. "Wouldn't you like me to do it to you?" The expression on her face told me all I wanted to know. Meanwhile Bobbi wasn't wasting any time. As Mum sat on the edge, she was on her knees, her face buried between Mum's splayed thighs, her tongue working furiously. Lesley stared, her eyes like saucers.
"Oh my God!" she whispered to me, "they're actually doing it!"
"Let me do it to you," I murmured. "Sit up on the edge."
"But they'll see us."
"I don't think they'll care, and anyway, I like an audience."
"Even your own Mum?"
"Especially my own Mum. She wants me to have as much gay sex as I can handle, and right now I want to handle you. Go on, get up on the rim." Lesley was far too much in love to refuse me anything and seconds later, my head was between her legs and I was licking her darling cunt, pushing my tongue into her and licking her up and down.
Mum was the first to cum, with a loud cry, followed by Lesley, and we all changed positions so the lickers were now the licked and it wasn't long before we'd all cum.
Leaving the tub, we toweled each other off and went into Mum's bedroom. An hour later, everyone had licked everyone else's cunt and we'd lost count of our orgasms.
Although Lesley and I are still in love, it doesn't stop Mum from aggressively "abusing" me from time to time, and I often "attack" her, tearing her clothes off to get to her cunt. Of course, when Bobbi comes over, I leave them to it, contenting myself with memories of that fabulous bath time, masturbating to images of my lovely naked Lesley peeing on to my face, and I cum and cum until I'm exhausted.
The end.