Wet Panties

Amber Fountaine stories contain sexually explicit descriptions of consensual sexual activity and are not suitable for reading by anyone under the age of 18, or anyone offended by reading such material. These acts include gay and bisexual activity as well as any combination of piss play, diapers, cross-dressing and other fetishes and perversions that may please the author's whims. The characters in these stories are fictional, but are mostly based on the author's true experiences, as well as the experiences of others he has met. Every attempt to conceal these identities has been made. These stories are placed in Nifty for the enjoyment of its readers and are not to be copied and/or distributed without the approval of the author.

Wet Panties

Chapter 4

by Amber Fountaine

Surely she didn't mean `THAT'! But . . . she did say it was my lucky day . . . and the guys I knew at school always joked about a guy getting a piece of ass as, "getting lucky," and . . . but . . . I guess a step-sister isn't exactly the same as a sister . . . yet she was so much older that . . . no . . . that was just too incredible . . . she had to be teasing . . . I think . . .

My mind continued to tumble as Roni fondled my hard cock under the churning water of the hot-tub. If she didn't mean fucking, what did she mean? Was there another kind of `getting lucky' I'd not yet heard of? I had to figure that she'd tell me soon enough and in the mean time, as long as she was fondling me, she could take her time getting to it.

"You like me playing with you like that?" she asked needlessly. I was damn near moaning.

"Yes," I hissed. "Feels good."

"Do you know what the girly-boys in the books call that?"

Assuming she meant what she was doing to me, I guessed it didn't matter if it was her hand or mine stroking it. "Jacking off?"

"No silly sissy," she teased. Then she gave my cock a squeeze. "What they call this thing in my hand?"

I'd heard it referred to a dozen different ways. Cock, prick, dick, dong - it was an almost endless list. "Cock?" I ventured.

"On a man, yes. But on a sissy boy or a she-male they call it their `clitty' like a real woman has, only bigger. Wouldn't it be awesome if a girl could have a clitty that big?"

I had no idea if that would be awesome or not, though I certainly enjoyed her holding mine and at the same time saying, "that big," as if referring to the one in her hand. I knew that somewhere in the folds of a woman's pussy there was a thing called a clit and you were supposed to be able to make a girl so hot she'd want to fuck if you could get your hand on it. According to my expert' school yard friends, that was why a girl wouldn't let you get your hand in her panties and push that magic button, because she'd get so hot she couldn't stop you from fucking her. None of the experts' knew exactly where this magic button was at, but they were all sure it was down there somewhere.

I wondered if Roni would let me touch hers, or at least show me where it was just in case I ever got the opportunity. There were so many things I wanted to learn and she'd as much as promised to teach me. But where to begin? A bit of a grin crossed my face as i remembered what was supposed to be old advice or wisdom about `starting at the bottom'. I sure wouldn't mind starting with Roni's bottom.

It seemed like no matter the subject, my mind wanted to go in two directions. I loved the way Roni's hand felt and wished she'd do it forever. But if she didn't stop soon, there'd be a string of cum floating on the hot-tub water like it did when I'd jacked off in the bath water. I tried to imagine what a girl would look like with a cock and a pussy too. Would that be possible? I didn't see how but it was a pleasant thought. In fact it was so pleasant I had to warn Roni to stop.

And then I suddenly remembered her earlier phone call. "How big is Jennifer's?"

"Not big enough to play with like this," she answered, continuing to stroke me, in spite of my warning. Then it hit her that she'd given herself away. She giggled and let my cock go. "Guess I let that one out of the bag."

I tried to play dumb. "Let what out of the bag?"

She looked at me to see if I was teasing her again and I couldn't keep a straight face. The hand and arm that had been in my lap became an elbow in my side. "Funny. You know what I meant. Me and Jennifer."

One of the things I'd like for her to explain was this bisexual business. There were maybe two dozen books in that box and half seemed to be about bi sex. Plus she'd said her dad was bi. If Roni had fucked boys and fooled around with her friend Jennifer too, that meant she must be bi. I liked girls - or at least I thought I did until I had a chance to put Chris's cock in my mouth and had gratefully swallowed his cum. That had been an hour ago and I was sure I could still taste it - if that wasn't just wishful thinking. Yet I'd found Roni to be as big or bigger a turn-on and still did. So that must make me bi too - but I wanted Roni's assurance.

"So then you think people can really be bisexual? One of the guys at school said that was an excuse that queers use that don't want to admit they're queer and all the other guys agreed."

"Kyle, unless your friends at school are all some kind of child prodigy geniuses or something, they aren't a damn bit smarter than any other guys your age that I can remember. Which is my nice way of telling you they don't know shit. At least you have the sense to ask questions and admit you don't know something. Listen to what I tell you and not what you hear from those dumb-asses and you'll be the smartest kid in your class - at least where sex is concerned. I can't help you much with algebra and that kind of stuff. I hope your dad isn't the kind to freak if I don't have straight A's in everything."

I took that to be as close to a confirmation as I was going to get and hoped her knowledge on the subject came from sources other than or in addition to that box of books. But then, as I thought about it, I realized that whoever had written those books had to be bisexual too and maybe they would be a good reference for someone like me. Since that was now on my mind, I ventured in that direction. "Roni, is it okay for me to read those books whenever I want?"

"You need something for inspiration when you beat your meat?"

I'm sure that was partially true so I answered, "Yeah, that too. But I want to learn as much as I can."

She put her arm around me and pulled me against her. Softly, and definitely seductively, she asked, "Would you like to learn how girls have sex together?"

Again, images of her and Jennifer flashed into my overheated brain. "Yeah. For sure."

"You'd have to pretend to be one of the girls."

"No problem." In my estimation, I'd already done that earlier before Chris came over and then for Chris. I'd been wearing her panties and a bra and one of her nightgowns and she'd put lipstick on me. That alone had gotten me excited. Chris seeing me dressed that way and getting excited too had gotten me so turned on it was almost numbing, like my whole body was buzzing. If she wanted to make me a girl again, I was all for it.

"Girls don't just get naked and have sex like boys want to do. They spend a long time working up to it."

Wishfully, I asked, "Like we're doing now?"

She laughed. "Yes. That would be one way. But you know what gets me and Jen hotter than anything?"

Of course I didn't have any idea but didn't want to admit that, at least out loud, so I shook my head.

"Going shopping. Trying on clothes together in dressing rooms. Anytime we go shopping together, we start fingering each other in dressing rooms and can't wait to get home and in bed."

That did sound hot and I agreed with her, not realizing how that might involve me if I were pretending to be her girlfriend. I'd thought she'd done a great job of playing Chris but it was nothing compared to how she was playing me and I never realized it until I'd already eagerly committed to doing anything she asked.

"Good. Great!" she responded. "I think Kayla will be awesome! We can practice this afternoon. And then tomorrow, we'll go shopping. My mom told me not to wait until the end of the summer to start picking out a few things for school this fall. I'm glad your hair is kind of long. That'll make it easier."

That's when it hit me that she intended for `Kayla' to go shopping with her and not Kyle. And she didn't mean next week or next month, after I'd had time to practice, she meant the next day! I started to protest but she'd put her hand back on my still stiff prick and for some reason, not a word came out of my mouth. Instead of protesting, I was nodding my head in agreement.

"Let's fix lunch," she told me, popping up out of the water. "And then we can go back to my room and get started. One of my favorite books is about a girl that lives with her three older sisters that teach her all about sex with them and their boyfriends. You can learn a lot from that book and I'm sure you'll like the part where the boyfriends learn to suck each other."

Her hand had gotten me about a stroke and a half away from busting a nut. More than anything, I was hoping to learn if cum floated in hot-tub water like it had in the bath water at Chris's house, but I could see where that piece of knowledge would have to wait - though it was close. With Roni suddenly standing over me, her legs spread slightly and her entire crotch open to my view, I was probably as close to cumming as I'd ever get and not go over the edge.

While I might not have had much ability at fixing breakfast, lunch was a different matter - as long as you were satisfied with a sandwich. I had one of our previous maids to thank for that. Not long after we'd moved into our new house, and my mom discovered that most of the neighbors had at least a part-time maid, she'd insisted that the house was too big for her to take care of by herself. For the next few years we went through a series of maids, none of which did a better job of pleasing my mom than my dad or I did. They were all fine for awhile, and then suddenly my mom would turn on them and nothing was being done to suit her. Based on what Roni had said about my dad and the maid, I wondered if maybe he'd been involved with the others too and my mom had gotten suspicious or jealous. That might explain some of it.

However one of them, Mary, had at one time been a cook or chef or something and she'd taught me how to make sandwiches that were the envy of my school friends. I'd had a group of friends in the 5th grade that loved to come to my house after school and let me make sandwiches for them.

Many, if not most of those great sandwiches were based on the leftovers from the meals Mary cooked and the home-made bread she baked. I had to make Roni happy with rather plain peanut-butter and jelly, although I did put it on whole-wheat bread. "We could take these to your room," I suggested, fixing us each a large glass of tea. "Or get back on the computer in my room."

"What's the matter," she taunted. "Does it make you nervous to eat naked with a naked lady?"

"Naked is great," I answered, thinking I might screw things up if I said anything that would make her want to get dressed.

"Oh, so you don't like wearing my lingerie. What a shame. I was hoping to teach Kayla so much."

I never seemed to know when she was teasing or being serious. She was having fun, but for me it was frustrating. "I love your lingerie!" I answered even quicker.

"And being a sissy?"

"I love being a sissy!"

"That's what I wanted to hear."

I wasn't sure that's what I really wanted to say, but . . . if that's what she wanted to hear, then I'd said the right thing. And as usual in this oddest day of my life, it gave me more to think about. Right then, at that very moment, I could have gone to my room, locked myself in, and had more to consider than my brain could process for a week. For instance, did I really love being a sissy? What boy my age, on the threshold of manhood, would want to admit that? Not many - if any. But . . . it had been obvious that I'd enjoyed wearing Roni's lingerie, and equally obvious that I'd enjoyed letting her put lipstick on me and . . . I'd really enjoyed sucking Chris's cock. In my opinion, you don't get much more sissy than that; and yes, I'd loved it!

So what it really meant was that I didn't want to be known as a sissy, especially to the guys at school. About the most demeaning thing I could think of was being identified as a sissy. But as far as being a sissy . . . Oh yeah, I was all for that!

"You know," Roni began slowly, realizing I was off in my own world and had to be reeled back in. The look on her face alerted me that her devious mind was at it again and I should pay close attention. "We're going to need to clean the house and do some laundry later anyway. We could have some fun with these towels."

I waited somewhat apprehensively to hear how towels and laundry and house cleaning tied in with what I hoped would be a fun filled afternoon. The towels she'd referred to had come off the shelf in the alcove by the hot-tub. They were plain white bath towels for guests to use that had been in the pool or hot-tub. We'd each grabbed one getting out of the hot-tub and after drying off, had used them to sit on at the breakfast nook.

Sensing my confusion, she told me, "We could make diapers out of them." Then she took the one she was sitting on and pulled it up between her legs. "See. If we folded them different, I'll bet they'd work great."

Now I could see what she'd been thinking. I pulled the one I'd been sitting on up between my legs as she'd done but there wasn't any way to hook it. "We'd have to have some pins or something."

"I don't suppose your mom might have kept some of your diaper pins for old time's sake or something?"

"I don't think my mom was ever into any of that nostalgia stuff. She was more the type to throw out anything old and buy new stuff, even if the old stuff wasn't worn out. Anything we didn't need got thrown away."

"What about your friends? Do any of them have a baby brother or sister in the house that uses real diapers?"

I could think of a couple of guys at school that had mentioned a baby brother or sister, but I doubted that anyone still used real diapers. I couldn't recall ever seeing a baby in real diapers. "Not that I can think of."

"Well then, I guess we'll have to add that to the shopping list for tomorrow, and later in the week we'll diaper each other. How does that sound?"

I wanted to say, "Like the dumbest thing I've ever heard of," but as I thought about her diapering me, and me diapering her, the thought of wearing the diaper became unimportant. It was the diapering and un-diapering that I was concentrating on when I answered, "Sounds great!"

"Glad you think so," she told me again grinning mischeiviously. "We're gonna have an awesome summer."

I couldn't believe how much she could eat or how fast. I was barely into my first PBJ and she was done with both of hers and she had done more talking. When she got up from the table and began moving around the kitchen, and especially when she bent over to check in the bottom of the refrigerator, I followed her every movement with rapt attention. When she caught me looking, she just smiled.

Then all of a sudden she turned and looked at me again, this time with that expression on her face that meant her mental gears were churning and said, "I've got another idea," and then moved to the pantry.

The previous owners had built the house - or had it built - with a few unusual quirks. They were Mormon and believed in hording food. So the kitchen was designed with a huge walk-in closet that they called a pantry and was the size of a very small bedroom. One side was entirely covered with sectioned shelves and the other side had big bins for storing sacks of grain or potatoes or whatever. They'd also included an area - a closet within a closet - with a clothes rod to hang things and my dad had bought each new maid a set of uniforms - until we had two or three of every size. I didn't know what Roni had in mind until she came out of the pantry with one of the uniforms in her hand.

"This one should fit you and we can do two things at once. You need to practice dressing and acting like a girl and we need to clean the house. So why not have Kayla do it? If you want, and you do a good job, I'll try to get my mom to hire you as the new maid for the summer."

Like most of her ideas, that one held both promise and problem. I kind of liked the idea of dressing up like a maid and cleaning house for Roni - or with Roni - but not for the rest of the family. However there was Chris to consider. Would he like to come over for a blowjob from the maid? Maybe. Roni had joked - I hoped she was joking - about having her mom hire me. What if Jean or my dad found out I'd been playing maid during the day while they were gone? Well . . . I suppose they wouldn't get nearly as mad as they would over some of the other things I'd done that day. And somehow, that combination of thoughts caused me to think again about what Roni had said about Carlotta and my dad. Did my dad hump all the maids? Maybe he wasn't the wuss I thought he was. Had that had anything to do with the turnover? If he'd been after all the maids . . . and I was the maid, then my dad . . . and me . . .

No. That was unthinkable. If it was possible to un-think something, that would or should be it. Yet if what Roni had said was true, and my dad had been having sex with Carlotta for the last couple of years, and my dad saw me dressed as a maid - especially if Roni had me looking really nice - would he want to have sex with me too? There were so many things to think about and Roni seemed to be piling new things on me before I'd had a chance to think through the last thing.

"Instead of wetting diapers," she said, letting that idea go for the time, "let's take a shower together and I'll show you how to shave."

Almost - like the dummy I really was - I came close to telling her that I wasn't old enough to shave. But I caught myself when she ran her fingertips through her neatly trimmed pubic bush. I realized in time that she wasn't talking about my fuzzy cheeks. That set me to thinking about what could be another problem. The hair on my legs was so sparse and so fine that if what was there disappeared, no one would likely notice. But if she meant to shave my pubic hair to match hers, I was sure everyone in gym class would laugh me out of the place. And once again, before I could voice my concern, Roni read my mind and put me at ease.

Talking over her shoulder as I followed her to her room and then into the bathroom, she told me that she thought it might be a good idea not to trim myself to the extent that she did, but that I could trim some and it would be fully grown back out by the time the summer was over. "But first," she said, popping open the shower door, "let's have some fun." Then she stepped in and pulled me in with her.

I've never felt the shock of a cattle prod, but I can't imagine it's much different than the shock I felt of her two stiff nipples brushing my chest. But you can be sure I didn't jump back. Feeling Roni's tits against me was MUCH more exciting than just looking at them. I was about to dare a feel with my hands when she used her hands on my shoulders to push me down in a corner.

"I think this is what you want," she told me when I was eye level and barely a foot from her pretty pussy.

She was right about that. I thought I could smell the heat from it, an aroma similar to those panties that had started off this day of days. A moment ago I'd wondered if I dare put my hands on her tits. Now the object of every man's goal was almost right in my face and as I contemplated this new turn of events, she spread her knees, bent them slightly, and tilted her pelvis. Then she used her own hand to open her slit and fully expose what had been lurking there. I wasn't sure what I was looking at, or what she intended for me to do, until I saw the dribble of pee begin, and then quickly become a fan shaped stream of hot piss.

My first reaction was to move my head back, but as the warm pee splattered off my chest, stomach, and my already hard cock, I remembered that picture she'd pulled up on my computer; the one of the guy drinking the woman's pee. Tentatively, I leaned my head into the stream and opened my mouth at the same time and when I didn't seem to be catching enough, I stuck out my tongue and moved in closer until the bridge of my nose was pressed against her and her neat little bush was smashed against my forehead. In that position, most of her piss was going in my mouth. Within seconds, my mouth was full and I was perplexed as to what I should do next.

I couldn't really taste it. As a first impression, I was reminded of the time my dad had decided he could fix the leaky faucet in the kitchen sink and for a few days the hot water was cold and the cold water was hot. Roni's pee reminded me of when I'd tasted a glass of warm water by mistake. Thinking that if I leaned back so I could close my mouth that I might get a better taste, I was about to do that when Roni stopped me. As if again reading my intention, she laced the fingers of her hands behind the base of my skull and pulled me hard against her, grinding her pussy against my nose. So I swallowed what pee was in my mouth and let it fill again and swallowed that too. I had no idea if it would make me sick but I figured if swallowing my cum and Chris's cum hadn't done me any harm, then maybe pee was harmless too.

Roni seemed to have turned into an animal, judging by the noises she was making, or maybe she'd been suddenly possessed by demons, like in some of those really stupid movies that some of the guys at school seemed to think were real. She was moaning and groaning and making some sort of squeaking noise that I'd never heard before. And then suddenly it was all over. Her pee stopped, she stood up straight, letting me go, and smiled at me. Then she pulled me to my feet and pushed me into the corner of the shower stall, rubbing her tits and the front of her body against mine, almost as if she was trying to use her body to wipe her piss off of mine.

"Do you need to pee?" she asked softly, her mouth an inch from my ear.

I knew what she was suggesting and I probably did need to pee. But there'd been a few mornings when my need to pee had been much greater and I couldn't because my dick was too hard. At the moment my cock was harder and the need to pee was less, so I knew it would be futile to try. Rather than try to explain all that, I just told her, "No."

"Too bad. Sometime we need to try that when we both need to pee."

Her insinuation was plain to me or at least I thought it was. She wanted me to pee on her like she'd done to me and maybe to taste it too. But just in case I'd guessed wrong, I merely nodded, figuring that if and when that day arrived, I'd worry about the details at that time. But you can bet I'd be thinking about it.

Then she turned around in front of me and turned on the shower. Since the water was all cold at first, she stepped back, trying to get away from it, and my stiff prick slid between her ass cheeks.

"Kayla, are you trying to fuck my ass?" she teased, rubbing her ass against me at the same time.

I wasn't really trying to, but then as if I had no control, I began pushing back, poking in the cleft of her ass, hoping to find a hole. Doing that seemed to make it slide straight up and while that felt good, I knew instinctively that I was missing the mark. So I bent down slightly to start lower and this time it slid straight forward and she squeezed it between her thighs, pushed back hard against me so that I could barely move, and then wiggled just enough that it brought me off.

She waited until she knew I was done, and then turned to face me. "I ought to make you lick that off. I know how much you love cum."

If she wanted me to lick her pussy, which I assumed had been where most of it had gone, I was more than willing. But before I could find out if she was serious, she spun around again, adjusted the water one more time, and began to soap herself.

There was room for both of us in that shower stall, but it was cozy. It was difficult to move around without moving against each other. While that usually felt very good, especially when we were both slick with soap and water, we still had to be careful where our elbows went and found the safest way was to use the soap and washcloth on each other. At one point Roni joked that if I had my way, she'd have the cleanest tits in town and I suppose I had been giving them much more attention than any other part of her.

Then she asked me, "Would you like to be a girl and have tits like mine?"

Yet again she'd given me something to think about that needed considerable thought. This was a question that I wouldn't be able to answer to my dying day and would be a constant debate in my mind for the rest of my life . . . and she's expecting a yes' or no' answer on the spot. But I was learning. In one of the proudest moments of my young life, I gave her the perfect answer. "I'm not sure if I want to be a girl," I told her truthfully, "But if I was, or could really become a girl, I'd want to have tits like yours and look just like you."

I was in. I didn't know what else she had in her mind, but I could see in her eyes and the expression on her face, that I'd just cleared any hurdles or wiped out any reservations she might have had. Because of all the things that followed, I'll always remember that moment as the time I learned how powerful a sincere compliment can be.

To be continued. Comments appreciated: amber_fountaine@hotmail.com