Gender: Male Age: 48 Location: N/A
|Introduction: John takes Cathy and Jessina to the water park.|
THIS STORY IS A WORK OF FICTION INVOLVING INTERGENERATIONAL RELATIONSHIPS AND URINATION. THE AUTHOR HAS NEVER PERFORMED AND DOES NOT CONDONE THE ACTS PORTRAYED. IF THIS SORT OF STORY BOTHERS YOU, THEN PLEASE DON'T READ IT.
My Little Neighbor Cathy, Part 3: The Trip to the Water Park
Some days you just know are going to be beautiful even before the sun has risen over the horizon. I don't know why that is. The birds seem to know. Their songs seem to have a certain tone on beautiful mornings, as if they're trying to convey an avian weather forecast to the rest of creation.
But on one particular Saturday morning, it wasn't the birds who told me that it was going to be a great day. Instead, it was the surprise presence of 7-year-old Cathy cuddled up next to me as I stirred from sleep, her bare bottom snuggled up against my equally bare cock, the old tee-shirt of mine she wore as a nightshirt having ridden up to her belly.
Unfortunately, my bladder was screaming for release; and as interesting as it might have been to just let loose right there in the bed, I didn't want to ruin a perfectly good and very expensive mattress. So I gently removed myself from the bed, taking care not to wake my sleeping princess, and emptied my aching bladder in the master bathroom.
When I came back, Cathy had rolled over onto her back, her arms and legs spread out in that stick-figure style of sleeping children, with her beautiful, hairless cunny on display for my inspection. Gently, I knelt next to her on the bed and just admired her for a few moments.
Cathy had the cutest little bald pussy I'd ever seen, and I've seen my share. The perfect little-girl pussy is one that is just prominent enough that it can be seen when you pull the front of the child's panties out and look inside, and just big enough that it doesn't disappear when the girl is standing up straight (and, of course, naked). Cathy's pussy was about as perfect as they come.
I reached out and gently stroked Cathy's belly, starting from her belly button, passing over her noticeably full bladder, to her hairless slit. Ever so gently, I ran my finger up and down from her clitoris to her vagina until she started to stir, opened her eyes, and then smiled at me as she woke up. Then she giggled, reached for and grabbed my cock, and started squeezing and stroking it with her tiny hand, more exploring my cock and balls than jerking me off. Still, it only took a few minutes before I shot my load all over the both of us.
I reached over and pulled Cathy toward me, then laid down on my back with her on top of and facing me, just cuddling her and stroking her back and butt. She seemed to be enjoying the affection, but was getting increasingly squirmy. Of course. She'd just woken up and had to pee.
I picked her up and carried her into the bathroom, put a few towels down on the tiled floor, and laid down on them, Cathy still on top of me, and continued to cuddle her.
“Why are we on the floor?” Cathy asked.
“I dunno,” I replied, “Why do you think?”
Cathy bit her lip and thought about it for a few moments, but then only shrugged. Her squirming was getting desperate, though, and reluctantly, she started to pull away from me.
“Where do you think you're going?” I asked.
“I have to go pee really bad,” she said.
“Oh, you can wait a while. I want to cuddle some more.”
Cathy's expression looked doubtful, but she stopped pulling away. She lay on top of me for about another minute, continuing to squirm and wiggle while I stroked her back and butt, and then she started to pull away again.
“John,” she said, “I can't hold it any more.”
“It's okay, baby,” I said, “Just go ahead and pee right here.”
“Huh?” she said. “You mean, pee on you?”
“Sure,” I said. “Then we can take a bath together.”
“Okay...” she said, giggling, but she was still too tense to pee.
“Just relax,” I said, reaching up to her shoulders and gently pulling her toward me, then rubbing her whole back from her shoulders to her butt cheeks until she relaxed. Then I felt the trickle of wetness starting to come from her, soaking my body from my belly to the top of my thighs. She started to giggle again as the floodgates opened and her stream became stronger. Finally, when she was done, she kissed me right on the lips and said, “John, I love you.”
We enjoyed a bath together, taking the opportunity to explore each others' bodies, and then threw the pissy towels (along with the tee-shirt she had on and her clothes from the day before, when she'd wet herself in school) into the washer. We ate breakfast naked as the sun rose, and then set out deciding what to do for the day.
There was a water park I liked about an hour and a half away. It was a favorite of mine because the unisex locker rooms were cramped. There also were changing stalls with walls and doors like toilet stalls along one wall, through which the enterprising pervert could catch occasional glimpses through the gaps between the doors and the walls.
Because there were too few stalls, however, many parents would just change their kids in the common locker room area, sometimes covering them with towels while getting them changed, and other times not even bothering with the towels. Because the locker area was so cramped, it was easy to sit on the benches and get glimpses of bald pussies even when the parents did try to cover their kids with towels.
I've also come across more than a few little girls in that locker room who would notice my furtive glances, immediately pick up that I was perving on them, shoot me a knowing smile and a wink, and make a little game of it. They would “accidentally” open their towels, or sometimes even let them drop to the floor, and watch my reaction, all in view of their totally oblivious parents. Often times I reciprocated, “carelessly” opening my towel-covered legs while I changed so they could get a glimpse of my manhood.
“How about we go to a water park?” I asked.
“Yaaaay!” Cathy said, as she jumped up and down and clapped her hands. Then she paused and said, “But I don't have a bathing suit.”
“No problem,” I said, “I have a bunch of them that my nieces use when they come visit.” It was only partly a lie. I did have a bunch of girls' bathing suits, but my sister and my two nieces lived halfway across the country and rarely came to visit. Still, the nieces were a good cover story for why a middle-aged “widower” living by himself would have a selection of little-girls' swimsuits.
We walked upstairs to the guest room and I pulled a plastic storage bin from out of the closet. It was full of swimsuits, sorted by size. I selected one of my favorites -- a yellow two-piece -- and held it against Cathy's nude body.
“Think this will fit?” I asked.
“Let's see,” Cathy said, grabbing it from my hand. She started to put on the bottoms, then stopped and grinned at me shyly. “Aren't you going to turn around while I change?” She asked.
“Cathy,” I said, “We've been hanging around naked all morning. What's the difference?” She seemed to consider that for a second or two, and then said, “Okay,” and pulled up the suit bottoms. They fit her perfectly. I could just barely make out the swell of her little mound; and I knew that that once she got wet, I would be able to see more than that through the thin fabric.
“The bottoms fit perfectly,” I said, and I helped her into the top. She looked so cute that I just had to give her a hug. “Let's put our clothes on over our suits so we don't have to change when we get there,” I said. “Okay,” Cathy said, and ran downstairs to get her clothes out of the dryer while I put on my own swimsuit and clothes and got a couple of towels.
When we headed out to to the car, I was surprised to find Jessina, the girl who'd tormented my little Cathy for wetting herself the day before, sitting in a chair on my porch. She was still wearing the same clothes she'd had on the day before, and she looked like she hadn't slept very well.
“Well, good morning, Jessina,” I said. “What brings you here so early in the morning?” She looked down at her feet for a moment, then at me, and said,
“My mother came back from work late, and she told me to go out and play.”
“Oh, okay,” I said. “Hey, I have an idea: Cathy and I are going to a water park. Would you like to come? Assuming it's okay with your mom, of course.” I felt the glare of Cathy's eyes boring a hole in me, so I glanced and winked at her.
Jessina looked at me with a puzzled expression, not believing that I would be inviting her along after what she'd done to Cathy the day before.
“I don't know if she'll let me,” Jessina said, “And I don't have a bathing suit.”
“Oh, don't worry about the bathing suit,” I said. “I can loan you one of my nieces' suits. Just run home and ask your mother if it's okay, or call her if you want.”
“Okay,” Jessina said, becoming more excited, “I'll call her.” I handed her the phone. I took the opportunity to have a word with Cathy.
“This is where we get even,” I told her. Cathy looked puzzled. How could a trip to a water park be “getting even?”
Jessina was still talking to her mother. “Es el tio de mi amiga,” she lied.
“You're not my uncle,” Cathy whispered.
“Shhhh,” I whispered. “She's trying to convince her mother to let her come, and it sounds better to say I'm your uncle.”
“Okay mamita! I'll ask him!” Jessina said, jumping up and down happily. ”My mother said I can go, but if we get back late, can you keep me at your house overnight? She has to, uh, work again tonight.”
“No problema,” I replied. “I have plenty of beds.” It never ceases to amaze me how these people trust someone they've never even met with their kids.
Jessina said a few more things to her mother in Spanish, then gave me back the phone and said, “I can go!”
“Okay,” I replied, walking back into the house to the kitchen. “Let's go pick out a suit for you. And have you eaten breakfast yet?”
“No,” she said, “But let's just go. I'm not hungry, anyway.”
“Nonsense,” I said, reaching into the cabinet. “Have some cereal, at least, okay?” I waved her to the kitchen table and poured her a bowl of corn flakes, with plenty of milk. She sat down reluctantly and started eating as I walked over to the refrigerator, poured her a glass of cranberry-apple juice, and set it in front of her. She thanked me and drank it right down.
“I was real thirsty from sitting outside,” she said. I suspected she'd been out there since her mother got back some time in the wee hours of the morning, probably with some guy she picked up on the street downtown.
“Well, then have another glass,” I said as I poured her a refill.
Jessina quickly finished eating, and I sent her up the stairs ahead of me so I could talk to Cathy.
“I want you to go use the bathroom and not drink too much liquid,” I told her, “This way Jessina has to pee before you do, and when she wets her pants you can call her a baby like she called you one.” Cathy looked at me quizzically, and then her eyes lit up as she started to understand my plan. She gave me a little hug and then ran off to the bathroom.
I climbed the flight of stairs and walked into the bedroom. Jessina had already found the open bin of swimsuits and was looking through them for one that she liked. She looked at me and held up a pink, flowered one, but it was much too small for her. She looked like about a size 8 or 10, but the one she'd picked out was a 4T.
“That one will never fit you,” I laughed as I sat on the edge of the bed by the open bin.
“Look, they're in size order,” I said as I began to reach for the size 8s, but then got a better idea.
“Do you know what size pants or panties you wear?” I asked.
“No,” she said, “How can I tell?”
“It's easy,” I said as I took her hand and gently pulled her toward me. “We just have to look at the tag. Turn around”
She turned around to face away from me. I pulled her stretchy pants down slightly, pulled the back of her panties away from her, and looked inside to “look for the tag.” There was none.
“Hmmm,” I said, “There's no tag. Maybe you have them on backwards,” I said as I gently spun her around to face me. I started to pull the front of her panties away from her, but she pushed my hand away.
“What's the matter?” I asked, looking up. Jessina was wearing a shy smile, which was a relief. She wasn't freaked, just embarrassed.
“I don't want you to see my coochie,” Jessina giggled.
“Oh, okay. Let's check inside your pants instead. You can leave your panties on.”
“Okay,” she said as she slid her pants down, carefully holding her panties up to prevent them from slipping down, as well. I looked at the label. The pants were a size 8. I reached for the size 10 swimsuits.
“Do you want a one-piece or a two-piece?” I asked.
“A two-piece,” she answered, removing her pants the rest of the way. I picked out to suits, one a stunning black and almost fluorescent pink design, and the other a rather plain blue one. As I expected, she reached for the black and pink one. She put her thumbs in the waistband of her panties as if she were about to pull them down, then looked up at me and paused.
“You have to turn around,” she said.
“Oh, okay,” I said, and turned my back to her. “Let me know when you have it on so I can see if it fits you.”
“Okay,” she said, “Just a minute.” After a few seconds she told me it was okay for me to look, and I turned around.
“Ta-daaaa!” Jessina said as she modeled the suit. Jessina was close to puberty. Her hips were already starting to widen, and her nipples were already prominently budding and were visible through the swimsuit top.
“Let me see how it fits,” I said, slipping the tip of my finger between the waistband and her belly. It looked snug, but was actually pretty loose. I knew that once it got wet, she'd be spending a lot of time pulling it up.
“I think it's a little loose,” I said. “I think maybe you should try the other one. This one looks like it's going to fall down.”
“No it won't!” she protested. “It fits perfect!”
“Okay, okay,” I said. “Just put your pants and shirt back on, and give me your panties so you can change back into them for the trip home.”
Jessina slipped her clothes back on and handed me her panties, and I took the smiling child's hand in mine as we walked down the hallway to the stairs. She paused slightly as we passed the hallway bathroom, but then continued to walk with me down the stairs.
“Well,” Cathy said from the sofa, “It's about time!”
“Sorry,” Jessina said, smiling happily. “We had to pick out a swimsuit for me.”
“Whatever,” Cathy said excitedly. “Let's go!”
“Did you do what I asked you to?” I asked.
“Yep!” Cathy said, smiling a mischievous grin.
“Okay,” I said. “Let's go!”
When we got in the car I said, “Geez, it's like an oven in here. Let's stop for something to drink on the way.” We stopped at 7-11 where I bought all of us “Big Gulp” drinks, then hopped on one of the “scenic routes” – old Depression-era highways that still meander throughout New England, most of the now-decrepit rest stations now closed and boarded up.
“Don't drink that all at once,” I told Jessina as we passed what I knew would be the last working rest area for many miles. “I don't want you peeing your pants in the car.”
“I don't pee my pants!” she said indignantly. “I'm not a baby like...”
“Like whom?” I asked.
“Never mind,” Jessina said. “But anyway, I can hold my pee all day!” she said, and then started sucking the drink down until all that was left was the ice, just to prove her bladder prowess to me.
I'd had Jessina sit in the front “because she was older.” The two girls spent the next half hour or so of the trip babbling back and forth as girls do. But little by little, Jessina became quieter. I looked over at her and asked if everything was okay, and she nodded her head.
“I'm okay,” she said. “How much longer until we get there?”
“Oh, about another hour or so,” I said. “But that's okay. They don't even open until 11:30 this early in the season.”
“Oh, okay,” Jessina said softly, looking out the window. She was sitting slightly hunched forward with her legs crossed, slowly moving both her legs side-to-side and tapping her foot nervously.
“Are you hyper today?” I asked, looking over at Jessina. “You can't seem to sit still.”
“No. I mean, um, yeah. I always get hyper on long car trips.” She didn't want to admit that she had to pee.
I looked up ahead and saw brake lights starting to come on.
“Shit,” I said, while secretly jumping for joy inside.
“What's the matter?” Cathy asked from the back seat.
“There's some traffic up ahead. Looks like maybe there was an accident.”
I glanced over at Jessina. She'd looked uncomfortable before, but now she looked horrified. There was no way she'd be able to hold her pee, she must have been thinking. Cathy must have noticed, too, because she was wearing a shit-eating grin that I caught in the rear-view mirror.
I slowed the car down as the traffic around me slowed, and eventually stopped. I looked over at Jessina. She had her hand pressed into her crotch and had removed her seat belt.
“Jessina, sweetie, are you okay?”
“Yes,” she lied. Stubborn kid.
We sat there for a few more minutes. I was starting to feel sorry for Jessina. By now, it was obvious that she was in pain. I didn't want to hurt her, only to embarrass her to get even for her making fun of my Cathy. I decided to give her a break.
“I sure hope this traffic starts to move,” I said. “I'm going to have to pee soon.” And it wasn't a lie. I wasn't anywhere near desperate yet, but the soft drink I'd had was starting to make it's way to my bladder.
“If you girls have to go, don't hold it until it hurts,” I continued. “That's not good for you. You can pee into the soda cups.” I glanced at Cathy in the rear-view mirror, and she was smiling.
“How can a girl pee into a cup?” Jessina asked. “We have no dicks!”
“It's no big deal,” I said. “You can just pull down your pants, and I'll hold the cup to catch your pee.”
“But then you'd have to see my coochie!” She whined.
“Oh, I've seen coochies before,” I said. “It's no big deal. But actually, I was more concerned about Cathy, because you told me that you can hold your pee all day, didn't you?”
“Yeah...” Jessina said weakly.
I looked over at Jessina. She was obviously struggling to hold her urine, and she was obviously in pain. This had gone far enough.
“Jessina,” I said.
“What?” she answered.
“Tell me the truth: Do you have to pee?” I asked, looking directly into her eyes. She looked down into her lap, still pressing her hands between her legs and squirming desperately.
“Yes,” she almost whispered, after a few moments.
“Okay, honey. That's all right. It happens to everyone – even grown-ups.” She looked up at me with tears in her eyes.
“I have to go bad,” she said.
“Okay, pull down your pants and your bathing suit bottoms,” I said as I hit the switch to roll up the heavily-tinted windows and turned on the A/C. She looked at her lap again, and then at me.
“But... I'm not allowed to let boys see my coochie,” she said. “My mother will get mad, and she won't let me see you anymore.”
“Don't worry,” I said. “I won't tell, and neither will Cathy.” I glanced at Cathy in the rear-view mirror, and her expression had changed to one of genuine concern for Jessina.
“Listen to him,” Cathy said. “Otherwise you'll wet your pants like I did. And I won't tell if you ket John help you. I promise.” Cathy crossed her heart for emphasis.
Jessina stared into her lap for a few more moments, then she started to cry, slipped her thumb in her waistband, and pulled her pants and her panties down together. I couldn't see her pussy because she was facing the front of the car and still holding her legs tightly together.
“Hurry,” she said. “It's gonna come out soon!”
“Okay, sweetie,” I said, “Turn and face me, and open your legs.” She turned on the bucket seat and faced me, spreading her legs slightly. I gently pushed her knees apart and positioned the cup between her legs.
“Okay,” I said, “Go ahead and pee.”
Jessina struggled to relax enough to pee, but she couldn't.
“It won't come out!” she said, sobbing.
“Let me help,” Cathy said, and then she leaned up between the two front seats and reached for Jessina's privates.”
“What are you doing?” Jessina asked.
“Sometimes when someone tickles your pee hole, it makes the pee come out,” Cathy said as she started tickling Jessina's clitoris and urethra. I took the opportunity to gaze at Jessina's pussy. She was getting close to puberty, and her snatch had the beginnings of the fine, almost-invisible, downy hair that little girls get before the real stuff starts to come in.
After a few moments, Jessina exhaled audibly and said, “I think it's coming.” And she was right. Starting as a tiny trickle, her urine flow grew until the force almost knocked the flimsy, plastic cup out of my hand.
“Wow,” I said, before she was even done. “That's a whole lot of pee for a little girl.”
Jessina giggled a bit, and her flow continued until the Big Gulp cup was almost half full. When she was done, she breathed a sigh of relief and said, “I need a tissue to wipe myself.”
I pulled the cup away, rolled down the window, and dumped out the cup.
“I don't have any tissues,” I said as I rolled the window back up. “Lust leave your pants down for a few minutes until your coochie dries,” I said. Jessina giggled.
“What's so funny?” I asked.
“I think you like looking at girls' coochies,” she said.
“Why would you think that?” I asked.
“Because all the boys at school do,” she replied, “and you're a boy.”
“How do you know what the boys at school like?” I asked.
“You promise not to tell?”
“Well,” Jessina said, starting to blush, “Sometimes they pay me to see mine,” she said.
“They pay you?” I asked.
“Yep,” she said. “They give me their snack money if I let them see my coochie.”
“Ah, I see,” I said. “But didn't your mom tell you not to let boys see your coochie?”
“Uh-huh,” she said, and looked down at her bare coochie for a few moments.
“Once the teacher caught me showing Marty White my coochie, and told mommy,” Jessina said, “And mommy beat my ass. But she doesn't give me snack money, and I have to get it somewhere, so now I'm just more careful so I don't get caught when I show the boys my coochie.” Cathy reached over and stroked Jessina's shoulder, comforting her.
“Tell you what,” I said, reaching over and gently stroking Jessina's cheek. “School's almost over, but I'll give you snack money. Just stop by my house when you need it.”
“Really?” she said, looking at me with an expression of wonder. “You would do that for me?”
“Sure,” I said. “I wouldn't want you to go hungry.”
Jessina cried softly to herself for a moment, then said, “Thank you, John. You're the nicest man I ever met.”
My bladder was starting to scream at me, so I reached for the empty cup and said, “Well, girls, I have to pee now.” I opened up my pants, hung my now-limp dick into the cup (Jessina's telling me about her mother's not giving her any snack money had caused it to deflate), and peed heartily into the cup. Both girls watched with interest as I emptied my aching bladder.
“I never watched a boy pee before,” Jessina said.
“I have,” Cathy said proudly.
“Now both of you have,” I said as I shook the last few drops of pee out. I put my dick away, then rolled down the window and emptied the cup again.
“Do you have to pee now?” I asked Cathy, rolling the window back up.
“No,” she said, disappointment in her voice. “I went before we left the house. But when I have to, then you can help me, too!”
That didn't become necessary, however, because the traffic finally started to move as the accident was cleared, and we arrived at the water park shortly after it opened – in plenty of time for us to enjoy a whole day of wet fun of another sort. I also enjoyed watching Cathy's cunny through the thin fabric of her wet swimsuit, and Jessina's as her too-loose swimsuit bottoms kept inching down her hips once they got wet. Then we all changed together in one of the “family” changing stalls, and went home.
When we got back home, all three of us showered together. The water in the water park had been heavily chlorinated, and we spent almost an hour making sure we got all that nasty chlorine out of each other's nooks and crannies. Then we went to bed together, too exhausted to do anything except enjoy the warmth of each others' naked bodies as we drifted off to sleep.
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