Morning Jog

My morning jog started out well. The sun began to hide behind the clouds after awhile, and half way into my planned 10-mile jaunt, it began to rain some. Meanwhile, I was beginning to feel the affects of the coffee I had that morning. For some reason I felt compelled to drink an entire pot. Now, my bladder was beginning to send me some insistent signals.

I tried to determine where the next restroom would be along the park trial. But a wicked idea was born instead. I had always liked to play with my wee-wee, sometimes pissing in the shower. Now, I might be able to pee right in the middle of the park with no one suspecting.

The park was emptying of people, as the rain came down harder. I was drenched by now. I started to slow down as the pressure against my stomach built. Eventually, I crouched, right along the path, watching as people scurried by. My spandex running shorts rubbed in a mildly irritating but not unpleasant way. I decided this would be my moment of golden glory.

I tried to relax my bladder muscles, and even though I was at the bursting point, it took some effort. Then, I felt nothing. Then, it started. Slowly at first, my piss began to trickle out. Suddenly, I felt a muscle deep inside give way, and my piss came out in an angry hiss, but no one took notice. It was raining so hard, most probably just figured I was some nutty jogging-obsessed woman catching her breath.

It was gloriously wicked; I watched as an old couple tried to find shelter, and other joggers raced past. Meanwhile, I was pleasantly, delightfully emptying my bladder in full sight. They were oblivious to my perverse joy. I peed and peed, and it never felt better.

Now relieved, I stood and realized my clit was throbbing. The next restroom was half a mile down the path. I made a mad dash, and breathlessly went inside. The air was thick and damp, smelling of old disinfectant. I was the only one there, so I quickly ducked into a stall and pushed my shorts down to my ankles. My fingers flew over my nubbin and I was slicked up from the sweat, rain and piss, and excitement. My throat was raw and I was breathing quite loudly. In a minute, my orgasm hit as I thought about my exhibitionist display of an intimate bodily release.

"Well, well, you must have really needed that!" said a woman's voice with laughter in it. I froze and tried to pretend I was small. "Don't worry, hon. We've all been there before. I heard you moan." Damn! I had forgotten to try to be discreet in cumming but was too caught up in the moment.

I decided it was time to come out and own up to my embarrassment. The woman's voice turned into a pretty woman in tennis skirt who had avoided the cloudburst. She smiled broadly at me. "It's OK," she whispered, "I think I might do the same thing." I was more than a little shocked. My exhibitionist activities were few and far between. Even so, it surprised me to see someone else be so bold.

Rooted where I was, I turned and watched her go into a stall, but she kept the door open. She quietly spread her legs and lifted her too pretty tennis skirt, revealing a delicious, perfectly smooth pussy she obviously took great care of. "Care to watch? I've had too much iced tea." I felt my knees grow weak, and heard a loud stream come from her midsection.

She motioned with her index finger, and I sank in front of her on my knees, my hands resting on her hot thighs, looking down at her fountain. I bent my head a little and could feel the warmth of her pee and thought I could smell lemons. She knew. I knew. I just needed to do.

I put my right hand between her thighs and moved it so that her stream filled my cupped hand, watching as it filled with a golden-green light-filled liquid. It smelled delicious, and I brought it to my lips, and tasted her. She smiled, and leaned back, her stream now dying. I lowered myself even more, and licked her from stem to stern, enjoying the depravity of being a bathroom piss slut. She held my head and played with my hair. This woman was bringing me so much joy and I wanted to repay her for her understanding and acceptance of who I really was. My tongue pulled and played with her labia and clit, and she brought her knees up to my ears when she finally came.

She then drove me home. My husband asked who my new friend in the Mercedes was. "I ran into her in the ladies," I said with a wink.