Mackenzie's Accident

Mackenzie is 18

Mr. Hamilton is 28

It was the end of my fourth school year as a high school teacher. I have to admit I enjoyed my job, even though I had some concerns when I first started. As a man, I had qualms about teaching groups of pretty young women who were completely off limits to me. I figured the sheer taboo of the teacher student relationship might be too much to resist - not to mention the many other fetishes of mine they would display.

I had a thing for petite, lithe bodies and a small breast fetish. I loved pigtails, the color pink on girls, schoolgirl uniforms and a million other things, most of which were typically associated with young, school aged girls.

But to my pleasant surprise, I had no problems keeping my self-control. I could teach and mentor without any real attraction to any of my students. It was good to be able to fulfill my calling in life without it being threatened by some fling with a student. But I have to admit that the beginning of the year and the end of the year were a little bit tougher on my sex drive.

This was because when it was warmer outside, some of the girls would wear their pleated plaid skirts a size smaller and without stockings, showing more leg than was appropriate. And unfortunately, the other teachers and the principal were rather lenient on this violation of the dress code, and I followed suit. One time, in my first year, one of the seniors wore her white blouse unbuttoned halfway down her chest. Everyone could see she wasnt wearing a bra and a fair amount of cleavage was on display but no one batted an eye, except all the male students... and me.

Not only was wardrobe a problem in the few warm weeks during the school year, but the heat caused everyone to sweat and there aren't many things sexier to me than a half-dressed, sweaty, pretty girl. Sometimes during close up, one-on-one instruction, I was able to smell the perspiration wafting off a student's perfectly perky body. The odor would sometimes turn me on so much I'd have to wrap up the session ASAP.

But I never let any of it overwhelm me into doing or even saying anything I would regret later. I was a professional, and I was respected as such by my colleagues and students.

We were a few weeks from the end of the semester and it was a particularly warm day in May at 87 degrees. And though the school had air conditioning, it barely got us under 80. It was sixth hour, the last class of the day for me and most of the seniors. I would sometimes use seventh hour to tutor students individually, but usually left after waiting a few minutes. As I taught, eager to finish and get into some better air conditioning, one student kept interrupting to ask to go to the bathroom.

It was Mackenzie Beck. She was a bit of a troublemaker, though whip smart. More than a few times that year, she had asked to go to the bathroom only to disappear until the next school day. I figured if I had to sit through the heat and endure, so did she. I denied her request five or six times as she squirmed in her seat, putting on a good show, or so I thought.

Mackenzie was actually one of my favorite students despite the skipping. She had an infectious charm and a witty sense of humor, not to mention a gorgeous smile that made her smokey blue eyes glimmer with mirth. Slim and standing about 5'8", she looked like a model, with porcelain skin and long, sandy blonde hair. Her pink, glossy lips looked so soft, I'd wondered how they would feel to kiss on many occasions.

Mackenzie had been the subject of many a rumor floating around. Stories of bowjobs in janitor closets, sex in restrooms, and threesomes at parties. I tried not to speculate which were true but I couldn't help but imagine her in such lewd predicaments.

Every time she raised her slender arm in the air I told her to put it down, ignoring the surely fake look of desperation on her face. She would pout and fold her arms, then we would repeat the action five minutes later. The last twenty minutes of class she just sat quietly staring, no more squirming and bouncing. To me, it proved she had been performing.

I finished my lesson and dismissed class, happy to be done with another day of hard work. But as all the students scrambled out of my second floor classroom, Mackenzie still lingering, sitting still in her seat, legs now crossed.

"Ms. Beck?" I called to her after the last student left.

"Mr. Hamilton, I... just need a minute and I'll be going..."

"Sure. Ok," I wasn't sure what the issue was but it didn't bother me to have a little eye candy sitting across my desk while I finished up grading. Even though seventh hour was under way, a few students still lingered in the halls, occasionally peeking through the small, rectangular window on my door.

More time passed and I went to fetch a bucket of water to wash the board. When I returned she was still sitting, seeming to be watching the door. "Is everything OK, Mackenzie? Are you waiting for someone?"

"No... not really. I'm just waiting for the hallway to clear."

That was odd. She was far from agoraphobic and she was well liked. Or maybe not by everyone, I thought, reasoning that there might be some bully she was afraid of. Or even worse, some boy stalking her or something. And it would make sense if she wanted to be excused so she could leave early. "Are you... afraid of someone?" I asked in a concerned tone.

She hesitated. "No."

"If someone is bothering you? You know you can tell me right?"

"Yes, I know. But no one is bothering me."

"Then tell me what's going on. You're acting strange today."

"I just... if you would have just let me go to the bathroom I... nevermind," she sounded angry at first then got really quiet. Maybe she really was in some kind of trouble.

"Listen, it sounds like something's wrong. Since you can't tell me, you leave me no choice but to call security to give you an escort" This was protocal in our school for any student suspected to be in danger.

"No!" She exclaimed. "I... ok, I'll tell you. Could you lock the door so no one walks in on us?" she said. I locked the door then walked over to sit on top of the desk next to hers. I was a little nervous that the rumors about her might prove true and I'd have my own sexy stalker on my hands. Which would be awesome and terrible simultaneously.

"So, what's wrong, sweetheart. Don't be scared to tell me," I said, putting on my most compassionate voice and placing my right hand on her shoulder. Two fingers landed below the hem of her short-sleeve blouse and I felt the warmth of her sweaty, bare flesh. I began to rub up and down, giving the effect of a caring teacher but really wanting to touch more of her creamy skin. I know, I'm awful.

Mackenzie looked up at me with her pretty blue eyes. "I... had an accident," she said. I didn't grasp.

"An accident?"

"Yeah. An accident. You were being an asshole an-"

I cut her off at the use of profanity. "Hey, watch your mouth Ms. Beck! You have more class than that, young lady."

She rolled her eyes and restarted. "You were being a jerk," she looked me right in the eye when she said the word, "and didn't let me go to the bathroom. So..." she took a breath, "I peed myself."

"Oh... uh... I'm so sorry, Mackenzie," I began to apologize. My mind was reeling about what I just heard. Of all the screwed up fetishes and fantasies I had, the one I would never have to encounter at work was the one at the very top of the list - my obsession with female urination. I had often deampt of getting my hands, among other parts of my anatomy, on a pair of pretty panties soaked in a girl's piss.

"No, no. It's really my fault. I'm the girl who cried pee. I guess it's karma for all the times I skipped out. Who would have known the time I really needed to go you would say no. The universe wins again," she sighed.

I couldn't help but chuckle. I didn't mean to laugh but she was right. Mackenzie smiled up at me, "you're not allowed to laugh, sir. This is partly your fault."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. So what are you gonna do now?"

"Wait until seventh hour is over and everyone's gone, then sneak home. Care to keep me company until then? It's the least you could do to make up for the problem you caused," she quipped.

I silently scoffed at the idea this was a form of punishment. To be locked in a room for at least an hour with easily the sexiest woman in school while she's hot, sweaty, and pissy? Count. Me. The fuck. In.

"Yes, I suppose it's only fair I keep you company. What shall we do?" I asked, leaving the door open for her to choose. I was already beginning to feel a twitch in my dress pants from sitting next to this amalgam of wet dreams personified, and I was curious (if not hopeful) to see if she would suggest something provocative.

"How about... a game of truth?" she suggested.

"Truth or dare, you mean?"

"Well, there's nothing to dare in a classroom with just us two."

I can think of a few things, I thought instead of saying it. "Right. So truth it is, then."

"You first. Ask me anything," she said, turning in her seat toward me, her eyes sparkling as she smiled up at me.

"Ummm... what's your favorite color?" I had no idea what was appropriate to ask her, so I went as safe as possible. Though I really wanted to ask what color her pissy panties were.

Mackenzie's eyes went dull, all the excitement faded immediately. "Pink," she said simply. "So, do you have a girlfriend?" her tone brightened again when she asked.

The question caught me by surprise. Here I was trying to keep the conversation safe and she was bringing my personal life into the picture. I guess she didn't want to waste her time with boring small talk and really, neither did I. "No," I answered simply. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"I have a few friends... who are boys, but no," she giggled and shifted in her seat, supporting her head with a hand on her cheek, still facing me.

"Are you comfortable... I mean, with your... situation?"

"I'm ok. I almost forgot about it until I moved." The nonchalance with which she sat in her own urine was turning me on. I could have sworn I faintly smelled the odor of it. "So, are you attracted to anybody in this school?" she asked out of turn.

"Wait, that wasn't my question. I was asking to see if you were ok," I said.

"Right. Asking. As in a question. It counts. So you answer my question now," she said. Normally I wouldn't let a student talk to me like that, but it was all lighthearted banter.

"Yes, I am attracted to someone at this school." In my heart of hearts I meant her but I would never admit it.

"So these friends, who are boys... do you like any of them? Like romantically?" I probably didn't need to clarify. She wasn't dumb.

"No."

That's surprising. "Why?"

She sighed. "They're just so damn... darn immature, and scrawny and... just ew, no. Guys my age are only good for one thing and barely that. And they're such gossips! When they're with a girl it's still not even about her because they tell everyone the second they're done. It's like they use girls to score points with other guys. If you ask me, I think it's kind of gay."

"Damn," I chuckled. "Yeah, young guys can be jerks but you have to find the right one for you."

"Yeah, I guess," she sighed. "And that was two questions so I get two."

"Ok." She was a real stickler for the rules of this game, apparently.

"Hmmm, let's see... who is it that you're attracted to in this school?"

I should have prepared a lie after the last question. If I had I wouldn't have blurted out, "Mrs. Schultz." Mrs. Shchultz and I were good friends, which is probably why her name popped up in my head, but she was 62, married and not very attractive by anyone's standards.

Mackenzie burst out laughing. "I didn't take you for a liar, but I thought you would be a better one than that! Mrs. Schultz? Mrs. Schultz!?" She was rocking back and forth and slapping her knee, cackling hard.

"What? We're in love. We're gonna run away together," I said to jest away my embarrassment.

"Stop it! You're making me tinkle!" she said through her fit of laughter. When I looked down I saw she wasn't lying. The seat of her wool skirt had soaked through and piss started flooding the chair and leaking over the sides like fountain. Such a filthy princess.

I watched the liquid pour from between her perfect legs, transfixed until she got up, still laughing lightly and wiping tears from her eyes. She kicked her sandals off her feet then put them to the side and walked barefoot to my desk to get paper towels. I eyed the big dark spot on the back of her green pleated skirt dripping urine down her legs and onto the floor.

I could smell it now, not very strong but it was present and making my cock react. Mackenzie came back to her seat, wiping her shins with the paper towel. "Look what you made me do," she said still smiling gorgeously, and slapped my arm playfully. "I'm gonna make you pay for this."

She stood about a foot in front of me and lifted her skirt to dry her inner thighs. She seemed unaffected that she had just peed herself in public. "You seem to be handling this rather well. I thought a teenager would be freaking out about wetting themselves in class."

"Well, I'm not a teenager. I'm 18, which means I'm an adult. And it's not about pissing yourself but pissing yourself in front of a bunch of..." she stopped and caught me staring at her as she cleaned herself. She just smiled and continued. "... a bunch of gossiping ass holes who'll ruin your life. You're more mature than that and I trust you. You're my favorite teacher y'know," she smiled at me then tried to sit back down.

"Ick!" she exclaimed and popped back up from her seat. "Skirt's too wet now. I guess I'll have to stand."

"Or just take it off," I said before thinking. The blood that was rushing to my raging boner must have left a shortage of oxygen in my brain. What the hell did I just say?

She didn't seem to fret over my suggestion, though. "You'd be okay with it?" she asked.

I would love to see more of your beautiful body. "I mean, if it'll make you more comfortable. No one wants to be stuck in wet clothes for an hour."

"See, most boys would be so immature, they would flip over seeing a pair of panties. But a man, like you, wouldn't be so easily affected by a little bit of skin," she said as she unbuttoned her skirt and slid it down to the floor, setting it aside with her sandals.

The bottom of the white blouse Mackenzie was wearing tucked into her skirt was soaked too. She unbuttoned it, removed it, folded it and set it to the side apathetically like she was at home. She then dried the seat off as best she could and sat down.

A damn dream girl, sitting right across from me, in 80 degree heat and sweating, wearing nothing but a black bralette and a pair of pink lace panties, drenched in her own rich pee. I had to be the luckiest bastard alive. The aroma of her sexy little sweaty body, mixed with the scent of her piss was driving me nuts. Her thighs were so delicate and soft looking. Her breasts were a pair of pears, restrained only by a simple piece of elastic fabric. I was dying for a taste of her.

"Hey, we should cover the window or something. Wouldn't want anybody seeing."

She got up to tape a couple sheets of paper to the door, covering the glass, careful not to stand directly in front of it. I watched her perky teenage ass as she walked. It was a taut little heart, compact and round. Perfection. In the middle sat her hot pink thong, darkened by the wetness of her delightful accident, covering the entrance to her most naughty hole. I would love to bury my face in there.

She switched her slender hips as she walked back, the curve of which I had never noticed before. Her tummy was completely flat, her body, blimishless but for a few small moles, one near her eye brow, another on her dainty neck, a couple on her torso. Her pretty little feet were pedicured, nails painted pink to match the color of her unmentionables, at least at the dry part above her crotch.

"So, where were we?" She asked, sitting comfortably in her desk facing me again.

I snapped out of my lustful trance. She had to see me staring. "Oh, uhh... your second question."

"Right. My second question. Let's seeeeee... do you find me attractive?" she snapped with a cheeky smile.

"W- wh- what!?" was all I could manage.

"I said, do you think I'm sexy?"

"You're- I'm a- you're a student!" my nerves were all over the place. I tried to act indifferent to her nakedness and her nasty situation like she did, but my heart was beating fast, my breathing was labored and I was having a hard time keeping it together.

"I know that. But I am also a grown woman so its okay if you've got the hots for me. You wouldn't be the first teacher who admitted they were into me. I won't tell anyone. It'll be our little secret. I promise," she said as she flipped her long, straight hair to the side awaiting my admission.

"Um, well, you're a beautiful young woman, Mackenzie. Any boy would be lucky to have you." I felt satisfied with that non-answer.

"That's not what I meant, Mr. Hamilton. I meant... how do I put this? If I wasn't your student and you weren't my teacher would you have sex with me?"

She was relentless. She wouldn't accept my non-answer and upped the ante by being even more direct. She was the half naked fulfillment of my filthiest fantasies and she wanted to know if I'd fuck her. And the thought entered my mind that this might not remain in the hypothetical. If I answered honestly I might get to play with this young sexpot. How the hell could I say no?

"Absolutely, Mackenzie. You're fine as hell, funny, smart. And not to mention the fact you're sitting in front of me half naked. It's actually getting a little difficult to keep my hands to myself. I would definitely have sex with you. But I am your teacher and you are my student. I would never touch you or do anything you didn't want me to do," I stated, subtextually fishing for permission to put my hungry hands all over her cruelly amazing body.

"So, you'd touch me even though I'm covered in pee?" She inquired.

"It wouldn't stop me," I shrugged, trying not to let on that her accident actually incentivized me to.

She smiled prettily. "Good to know." Mackenzie sat back in her chair content with my confession, crossed her legs and fanned herself. "Uhg, it's so damn hot in here. Aren't you hot, Mr. Hamilton? Don't you wanna get more comfortable?"

It wasn't any hotter than it had been the last 30 minutes but she was making me sweat with her questions. And her body. I decided I could at least loosen my tie and undo a button or two. My ass had started to hurt from sitting on the desktop for so long and I walked over to sit in the chair behind my desk in front of the small room.

Mackenzie followed and sat on top of my wooden desk, right in front of me with her legs spread. I was not expecting that. And I could have sworn I could smell the scent of sweat and piss now mixed faintly with her feminine arousal. My cock had never been harder.

"Umm, Mackenzie, are you... umm... comfortable sitting there like that in front of me?" I asked as I set my hand on her leg, right above the knee. I didn't want her to move. In a way, I think I was hoping she would do what I didn't have the power to do and stop this.

"Well, it's not like you pulled up a chair for me. But, I'm good like this, unless, for some reason, you have a problem with it," she smirked. I hesitated, then shook my head. "Wow. Pee really doesn't bother you. Good. Your turn to ask a question."

"Well, you just asked me a bunch of questions so I have a few," I said, slightly caressing the girl's inner thigh.