Tweet
Marsh: A Week at Sanibel, Chap 3
This chapter continues the story of Marsha and her best friend from the bank. Check out the first two chapters to refresh yourselves about their antics. Actually it's about two thirty year old "hotties" who still wet their pants 'because they can'.
Marsha: Enjoying Sanibel Island, Chap 3
The Sanibel Hotel was very nice and located on beautiful grounds right next to the bay. We spent most of the weeks pleasant afternoons on lounge chairs near the beach. With such nice weather we were always in our swimsuits, mule heels, and wide brim hats trying to soak up the sun and look as sexy as we could. Marsha decided she should wear her peach colored one piece on thursday mostly because the male guests had been unable to tear their eyes away from the way it covered her pussy after she peed in it monday. I must say it looks especially nice with high cut sides, a full bottom and double lined crotch. I think her need to constantly stretch while pulling the material loose from her ass is one of the that suit's advantages, plus it always seems that her breasts remain barely contained as she pulls it down to cover her rounded bottom cheeks. I could only try to compete considering the way Marsha walks with one foot directly in front of the other. Her butt seems to flow with her long red hair pulled back in a pony tail as we follow one another along the path to the beach. Today there was a slight yellow tinged stain surrounding her rear, probably from earlier in the week. I'd decided to wear my best red bikini hoping its full bottom would accentuate the positive. Heels really help a lot with these things, as y'al know.
Lounging near the bay in this gorgeous weather with regularly refreshed cocktails made our vacation a dream. Our conversations switched from events at work to guys, especially a couple of the older male guests, as we thumbed through our magazines. We were lying near some hottie college girls, their cute antics providing us with quite a show. These giddy young ladies had some great stories and were rarely without a drink in hand. Marsha was finding their giggling infectious.
It was five in the afternoon, I'd just checked my i phone, when I was distracted by a muffled hissing sound seemingly emanating from near Marsha and realized that she was deliberately peeing in her lounge while she sat touching up the coloring on her lips. A steady stream dribbling from the pad into the grass. I'm sure you are aware by now this is nothing unusual for her, but our eyes met. "What!" was the first word from her pooched lips suggesting her guilt. Then she says, "I'm just wetting a little thats all, besides its not a big deal and if we lie here a while no one will ever be the wiser. Besides, I know you and I bet you're doing it just as much as I do".
Marsha waited a few minutes, continuing our conversation and then quite casually stood in front of me pulling on a pair of her old Lee's jean short shorts, the ones with hemmed cuffs. The slight aroma of her girl pee being almost intoxicating. Neither I nor the college girls next to us, could miss Marsha's urine soaked crotch pressing against her pussy lips. Most of her pee had soaked up the seat of her swimsuit, but she really didn't care and simply snugged her shorts around her waist before partially zipping up the front. Luckily, I didn't need to worry even though the college girls were checking me out as well. I pulled a similar pair of shorts on over my bikini. Now, I'm sure you realize that before long Marsha's wet ass was almost certainly going to soak through her jeans. I was curious.
We were lucky enough to squeeze into a place at the outdoor bar, occupying two stools there and ordering new refreshments. The lady server was a hoot and the inebriating effect of her drinks was leaving us in stitches over some of her stories. I was sitting with my legs spread over the edge of my stool and couldn't help spurting a bit now and then at some of her giddy comments.
I'd been feeling like I wanted to keep wetting in my pants right where I sat and was beginning to think I would just let it happen. I wasn't really very worried, at least not too much, about getting caught since my bikini was already sopping and our conversation with the waitress was going so well that I thought, "why not, no one will notice". I discreetly slipped my bottom off the stool and began to let it happen. At first the area around my puss was feeling warm, then progressively got hotter as my pee filled the crotch of my bikini, soaking through my shorts, before running down my legs and wetting my mules. My butt was now quite wet, but I still couldn't tell if I was being noticed. Discreetly finishing, I hopped back up on my stool, feeling much relieved but somewhat curious if I'd be getting away with what had just happened. The floor in front of me was sand so at least this time I didn't make a puddle.
Later everything seemed fine and I was pretty sure no one was noticing my little predicament even with our continued giggling. With legs crossed, I sat quietly rocking in a way that squeezed my now well lubricated puss. During the next half hour we finished two more drinks before it was time to parade ourselves past the other patrons and return to our room. I kept wondering how well our sunglasses protected the two of us from the embarrassment of wetting our pants in front of all the hotel guests. Marsha didn't have any idea that I'd also just peed myself, but I'm afraid the semi-circle of wetness surrounding my crotch left little to the imagination of anyone caring to notice. Wiggling our yellow stained bottoms out of the lounge must have caused some serious discomfort with at least a couple of the guys. Ah, the inebriating effect of the alcohol, since I'm sure Marsha didn't care at all that her wet butt was on display, let alone mine.
But then again, aren't girls supposed to wet their pants sometimes. We continued making our plans for the evening as we walked across the commons.
Just as soon as we reached our room Marsha dropped her shorts around her heels and stepped away while she reached in her purse for a rolled joint and wiggled her wet ass out on the balcony. Looking over her shoulder and smiling, she suggesting I join her. I couldn't believe how obvious the wetness was that covered the seat of her peach swimsuit. Tinged in yellow, the stain looped most of the way up her ass, coming to a point. Sitting on our two lounges, sharing our smoke, I got an opportunity to examine both her swollen pussy and pointy nipples pressing against her swimsuit. She was just as conscious of her condition as I was since she kept pinching herself through the damp material before finally crossing her legs.
Marsha looked up after a puff on her joint and smiled, saying, "Lets get high before we dress for dinner, by the way look at yourself, didn't you just pee in your pants".
Gees, that women is such a naughty little bitch.
Marsha: Enjoying Sanibel Island, Chap 3
The Sanibel Hotel was very nice and located on beautiful grounds right next to the bay. We spent most of the weeks pleasant afternoons on lounge chairs near the beach. With such nice weather we were always in our swimsuits, mule heels, and wide brim hats trying to soak up the sun and look as sexy as we could. Marsha decided she should wear her peach colored one piece on thursday mostly because the male guests had been unable to tear their eyes away from the way it covered her pussy after she peed in it monday. I must say it looks especially nice with high cut sides, a full bottom and double lined crotch. I think her need to constantly stretch while pulling the material loose from her ass is one of the that suit's advantages, plus it always seems that her breasts remain barely contained as she pulls it down to cover her rounded bottom cheeks. I could only try to compete considering the way Marsha walks with one foot directly in front of the other. Her butt seems to flow with her long red hair pulled back in a pony tail as we follow one another along the path to the beach. Today there was a slight yellow tinged stain surrounding her rear, probably from earlier in the week. I'd decided to wear my best red bikini hoping its full bottom would accentuate the positive. Heels really help a lot with these things, as y'al know.
Lounging near the bay in this gorgeous weather with regularly refreshed cocktails made our vacation a dream. Our conversations switched from events at work to guys, especially a couple of the older male guests, as we thumbed through our magazines. We were lying near some hottie college girls, their cute antics providing us with quite a show. These giddy young ladies had some great stories and were rarely without a drink in hand. Marsha was finding their giggling infectious.
It was five in the afternoon, I'd just checked my i phone, when I was distracted by a muffled hissing sound seemingly emanating from near Marsha and realized that she was deliberately peeing in her lounge while she sat touching up the coloring on her lips. A steady stream dribbling from the pad into the grass. I'm sure you are aware by now this is nothing unusual for her, but our eyes met. "What!" was the first word from her pooched lips suggesting her guilt. Then she says, "I'm just wetting a little thats all, besides its not a big deal and if we lie here a while no one will ever be the wiser. Besides, I know you and I bet you're doing it just as much as I do".
Marsha waited a few minutes, continuing our conversation and then quite casually stood in front of me pulling on a pair of her old Lee's jean short shorts, the ones with hemmed cuffs. The slight aroma of her girl pee being almost intoxicating. Neither I nor the college girls next to us, could miss Marsha's urine soaked crotch pressing against her pussy lips. Most of her pee had soaked up the seat of her swimsuit, but she really didn't care and simply snugged her shorts around her waist before partially zipping up the front. Luckily, I didn't need to worry even though the college girls were checking me out as well. I pulled a similar pair of shorts on over my bikini. Now, I'm sure you realize that before long Marsha's wet ass was almost certainly going to soak through her jeans. I was curious.
We were lucky enough to squeeze into a place at the outdoor bar, occupying two stools there and ordering new refreshments. The lady server was a hoot and the inebriating effect of her drinks was leaving us in stitches over some of her stories. I was sitting with my legs spread over the edge of my stool and couldn't help spurting a bit now and then at some of her giddy comments.
I'd been feeling like I wanted to keep wetting in my pants right where I sat and was beginning to think I would just let it happen. I wasn't really very worried, at least not too much, about getting caught since my bikini was already sopping and our conversation with the waitress was going so well that I thought, "why not, no one will notice". I discreetly slipped my bottom off the stool and began to let it happen. At first the area around my puss was feeling warm, then progressively got hotter as my pee filled the crotch of my bikini, soaking through my shorts, before running down my legs and wetting my mules. My butt was now quite wet, but I still couldn't tell if I was being noticed. Discreetly finishing, I hopped back up on my stool, feeling much relieved but somewhat curious if I'd be getting away with what had just happened. The floor in front of me was sand so at least this time I didn't make a puddle.
Later everything seemed fine and I was pretty sure no one was noticing my little predicament even with our continued giggling. With legs crossed, I sat quietly rocking in a way that squeezed my now well lubricated puss. During the next half hour we finished two more drinks before it was time to parade ourselves past the other patrons and return to our room. I kept wondering how well our sunglasses protected the two of us from the embarrassment of wetting our pants in front of all the hotel guests. Marsha didn't have any idea that I'd also just peed myself, but I'm afraid the semi-circle of wetness surrounding my crotch left little to the imagination of anyone caring to notice. Wiggling our yellow stained bottoms out of the lounge must have caused some serious discomfort with at least a couple of the guys. Ah, the inebriating effect of the alcohol, since I'm sure Marsha didn't care at all that her wet butt was on display, let alone mine.
But then again, aren't girls supposed to wet their pants sometimes. We continued making our plans for the evening as we walked across the commons.
Just as soon as we reached our room Marsha dropped her shorts around her heels and stepped away while she reached in her purse for a rolled joint and wiggled her wet ass out on the balcony. Looking over her shoulder and smiling, she suggesting I join her. I couldn't believe how obvious the wetness was that covered the seat of her peach swimsuit. Tinged in yellow, the stain looped most of the way up her ass, coming to a point. Sitting on our two lounges, sharing our smoke, I got an opportunity to examine both her swollen pussy and pointy nipples pressing against her swimsuit. She was just as conscious of her condition as I was since she kept pinching herself through the damp material before finally crossing her legs.
Marsha looked up after a puff on her joint and smiled, saying, "Lets get high before we dress for dinner, by the way look at yourself, didn't you just pee in your pants".
Gees, that women is such a naughty little bitch.