Night of Treats - Sex~Kitten.net

She had neglected to lock the door, the Halloween party was noisy . . . and I accidentally walked in on her.

She was at her most exposed. She'd finished peeing and was just standing up to yank her cherry-red panties back into place. Not only did I see the inside of her panties, I also saw her handsome auburn bush. I even thought I saw a wayward drop of pee trickle down.

And I saw her face. A face I'd never seen before. A face that looked startled but . . . vaguely pleased. I saw all of this in the split second it took for her to say "Excuse me!" and me to say a simultaneous "Sorry!" We both sounded as apologetic as one can sound when surprised.

And then I was back in the hall, with the bathroom door closed discreetly behind me.

As I headed upstairs to the other bathroom, I noticed that the experience had left me more than a little aroused. Maybe this was because of the vibe I'd received--the sense that she didn't mind that it had happened. And if she didn't mind, I sure didn't. Maybe she, too, felt like she'd just stumbled onto a nice little treat on this Night of Treats.

She was sweetly beautiful. Her face was soft and dreamy, and her eyes were kind and bright. Believe me, I would have noticed her even if her pussy hadn't been exposed. But, having taken in such a preciously sexy sight, I was not just smitten--I was unable to think about anything else. She became an instant obsession to me, by virtue of having inadvertently flashed me . . . and having looked like she didn't regret it. What had begun as a typical Halloween party had become a quest to find the girl I'd met with her panties down.

More than an hour passed before I saw her again. She was by herself, ladling out a cup of hot cider, across the living room from the much more popular beer station.

It's a funny thing when the first part of a Halloween costume you notice is the inside of the panties. It makes the rest of it a little anticlimactic. Still, this costume was impressive even with the panties demurely out of sight. It consisted, essentially, of a silver-lamé mini-dress, with red go-go boots that matched what I now could not see. Her green eyes sizzled sympathetically with some glass jewels that dotted the outfit. Overall, the effect was that of a 60's pop star from outer space.

As I approached her, she looked at me like we were long-time pals. I was a little nervous, and so I was glad to know that I had an easy conversational opening.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about walking in on you before." Though I knew that I actually wasn't sorry--and I truly believed that she wasn't either--it seemed like the appropriate thing to say.

"Please don't be." Though others might have said this out of politeness, she said it as if she meant it.

Before we'd even introduced ourselves--Faye and Scott--it was evident that we had chemistry. The next hour seemed to pass in a few minutes while we sat comfortably on a corner sofa, making an effort to let our conversation catch up to our hormones.

After a while, I returned to the subject of our original encounter. "Just think," I said, "if I hadn't opened that bathroom door. . ."

Faye smiled enigmatically. "Speaking for myself, my only regret is that you didn't walk in on me sooner."

She was charming, and her electricity was giving me a huge hard-on. But I was puzzled. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"This may be an odd thing to say to someone I've just met . . . and you may find it hard to understand . . . but when I see a man I'm attracted to, I get this kinky desire to pee for him."

Offhand, I could not remember a woman ever telling me anything like this before.

"I don't usually get the opportunity, of course," she continued with a laugh. "Tonight was the closest I've come recently. Anyway, I know it's weird. It's just some kind of flukey, animal expression of sexual desire, I guess." Faye looked into my eyes. "Do you think I'm bizarre?"

I clarified the situation for her. "I think you're the sexiest woman I've ever known." And I kissed her.

After we'd said our goodbyes to the host, we climbed into Faye's car to extend the evening on our own terms. It was peaceful in her parking space, around the corner from the house with the loud party. The night was unseasonably warm, and we had the block to ourselves. A full moon allowed us to see every expression on each other's faces.

"Mmm . . . wow, after that cider . . . ." Faye crossed her legs significantly.

"No worries," I said. "Go ahead and start the car. I know which of the convenience stores in this neighborhood have public restrooms."

To my surprise, she shook her head, smirking mischievously, and got out of the car.

When I came around to join her, she was rummaging for something in the back seat. Her ass was jiggling--because she had to go, I reasoned.

"Aha!" she said, and she emerged with the thing she'd been looking for. It was an empty, plastic jack-o'-lantern, like kids carry when they go trick-or-treating.

"I was going to bring this in to the party, just as a prop," she explained. "But I decided there was really no use for it, and that it would be a nuisance to carry it around all night." She held it up so that I could see it better. "I've had this since I was a kid."

"It's in great condition," I said. "Cool."

"Yeah," she agreed. "But what's even cooler is that I'm going to pee in it for you."

And without further ado, she set her prop down on the deserted sidewalk. She hiked up her shimmery dress and hastily peeled her panties. This time, they came all the way off, and I had the privilege of clutching them to my chest.

She straddled the plastic pumpkin and let her water flow.

If she had looked like a pop star in her sexy costume before, she now looked like a goddess. Watching her shapely body pissing, I couldn't imagine a more beautiful thing for a body like hers to do. And the spectacle she had brilliantly engineered could not have been more dazzling. Her fountain, shimmering like her sparkling outfit, plummeted majestically from her tender, naked crotch into the bright orange receptacle, which grinned lasciviously at me as Faye rained down. I imagine I was grinning back, but with an expression of intense awe and reverence that no plastic candy pail could possibly share.

When the breathtaking display came to its inevitable end, I thought she would ask for her panties back. Instead, still holding her skirt high, she turned her bare ass toward me. "How about a little kiss before we get back in the car?"

So I dropped to my knees and kissed the perky, delicious cheeks in an assortment of places. And I reached in to feel the place she'd sprinkled from, before wiping her dry with my handkerchief.

I couldn't wait to get back to her apartment and touch her some more.

When she fucked me on her bed an hour later, she still had the costume on, complete with the cute little boots. Only my old friends the cherry panties had been sacrificed, somewhere between the ass-fondling and pussy-licking phases of our evening.

After our flesh had cooked, climaxed, and lazily disengaged, Faye continued to straddle me. Now, as a final act of the night's lovemaking, she sensuously peed all over my lap, consecrating our bond.

It was a very flukey, very sexual, very animal . . . very wonderful thing.

© Jeremy Edwards
Jeremy Edwards is the pseudonymic, erotic facet of a freelance muse-chaser whose other specialties include humor essays, stage farces, and alternative pop music. His greatest goal in life is to be sexy and witty at the same moment -- ideally in lighting that flatters his profile. His stories have appeared online at Clean Sheets, Oysters & Chocolate, Ruthie's Club, and Tit-Elation. Visit him at MySpace.