This story is written for, and dedicated to, my very special darling Vikka

I’m waiting full of anticipation when you get off the train, and my heart leaps when I see you standing at the end of the platform, your bag in your hand. I resist the temptation to run down the platform and leap into your arms, because maybe that wouldn’t be very dignified, even though that’s what I want to do. It’s lovely that you have been able to get away to visit me for a few days, and I have been planning for ages what we should do. I don’t want to waste a moment of this rare chance to spend some time with you, and by meeting out here in the country we can have a nice afternoon together before travelling back together to my flat in town.

You look lovely in your pretty summer dress, with a little red bra underneath. I feel naughty for noticing that, but I can’t help looking. I’ve got a nice t-shirt on, and a pair of slightly-too-short shorts that show off quite a lot of thigh. I wasn’t sure if they’d be the right thing to wear or not, but I’m glad I did, because they make me feel sexy and confident. I go to kiss you on your cheek, but you move your head to kiss my lips and that makes me a bit shy and nervous all of a sudden. So I’m all confused for a moment, and I’m glad when you ask me where the car is and where we’re going and what we’re having for lunch, and by the time I’ve answered your questions we’re at the car and its time to go.

As we arranged, I’ve prepared a picnic, with all sorts of little treats and goodies. It’s a hot day, so I’ve brought two big bottles of water, and I see you’ve brought some as well, so we’ll have plenty to drink. That’s important. Because it’s a hot day. And because of what we’ve got planned for later.

You throw your bag in the boot and sit next to me in the front. I prattle on about what a nice day it is and how it’s going to be fun taking you to my favourite swimming spot on the river and how nobody much else knows about it so it’ll be nice and quiet. You swig from your big bottle of water and a bit of it trickles down your chin and drips onto the bare skin above your boobs. But I know I mustn’t look at you too much because I’m driving and I don’t want us to end up in a ditch or wrapped round a tree.

We arrive and I park the car up on the verge. It is still a few minutes walk to the swimming spot, and I’m quite warm when we get there. I say do you want to eat first or swim, and you say you’re starving so I unpack the picnic basket. You laugh at me for having a proper wicker basket with a rug and proper knives and forks and plastic plates and stuff, but I don’t care because I love making a fuss and doing things nicely for you.

I’ve made a nice healthy salad, though it’s a bit messy eating cross-legged on the rug, and you make fun of me some more by asking where the folding armchairs and table are, so I throw a cherry tomato at you and for a moment it looks as if there might be an all-out food fight but we calm down and finish eating. All the time we’re drinking lots of water, which is nice on such a hot day, but of course that’s not the only reason we’re doing it.

When we’ve finished you say you want to swim now and I joke that my mum would say we shouldn’t swim so soon after eating but you say it’s never done you any harm. It’s funny, but we’re quite shy putting on our swimsuits. You have a blue one-piece, and you slip your panties off and pull your swimsuit up underneath your dress, pushing your dress up over your head. I know you’re doing it to tease me, and you turn your back to stop me getting even a glimpse of your bare boobs as you pull your swimsuit up over them. You look nice in it, the tight material clinging tightly to your body. I enjoy looking at the curve of your back.

Two can play at that game, so I put a towel round my waist as I pull my shorts and panties off and pull on my bikini pants. I take my bra off and put my bikini top on under my t-shirt, while you giggle and pretend not to look. It’s a sensible bikini that’s meant for swimming, not just for sunbathing and showing off your boobs.

To show off, I do a runner along the bank and jump into the deep water with a splash, like I’ve been doing since I used to come here as a kid with my family. You pretend to be nervous and slip slowly off the bank into the water, complaining about how cold it is, though it’s obvious you swim like a fish as you disappear underwater for what seems like ages before coming up beside me.

We splash about for a while, diving into the clear water and generally having a laugh. The water feels lovely, even if it is a bit cold, and I like looking at the goose-bumps that have come up on your skin. I can feel my nipples getting all hard with the cold, pressing against the cups of my bikini.

Seeing you in your swimsuit is making me feel horny and I don’t think I can wait any longer to have you. I splash over to you and grab you round the waist and pull you against me, kissing you hard. I rub my cheek against yours and whisper to you that I think I want you now. You press your palm against my pubic mound under the water and squeeze my crotch with your hand. That makes me want to pee, but I’m not going to do it in the water. You whisper to me that you’re ready.

We splash out of the water and scramble up the bank onto the grass. You turn towards me, and slip the right strap of your swimsuit off your shoulder, then the left one. One at a time, you wriggle your arms thorough until you are standing there with the straps hanging by your sides. Your swimsuit is tight, squashing your breasts flat against your chest, their perfect smooth curves marred only by the little round humps of your nipples. You ask me to pull the cups down.

Tenderly, I pull down your swimsuit over your breasts. They wobble slightly as they spring free and take their usual shape, and my breathe catches in my wind-pipe as I gaze at your little mounds, paler than the rest of your skin, surrounded by faint tan lines like contour lines on a map. Your slightly darker nipples look very large. The sun is shining on them, giving every little dimple of your areola its own tiny shadow.

Your thighs are pressed together and I can see a small patch of moisture at your crotch which might be sexual fluid or might be pee. It’s hard to tell.

You’re blushing as you twist your toes into the grass, your thighs trembling. You look at me with desire and pleading in your eyes.

“I can’t hold it any longer, Annie. I really need to pee.”

“Do it in your swimsuit. I want to see your pee running down your legs.”

“That’s what I want, Annie. I want to feel it too. I really need to do it though.”

“That’s good. Let it go, my dearest.”

I see you relax your muscles, and all at once the tiny wet patch spreads across the front of your swimsuit. For a second it looks as if the material will hold it in, but then the force and quantity of the long held-in pee takes over and out it all comes. Very pale yellow in colour, it streams out in several directions at once, some of it gushing out from the sides of your swimsuit and running down your legs, some of it streaming out from the front of your swimsuit, forming a steady torrent from between your legs.

I put my hand between your legs and catch your pee in the palm of my hand, letting it form a small pool in my palm before overflowing and running out over the sides like a garden water feature. It is warm and mildly-scented. I breathe in the aroma. For some primitive reason that I cannot explain it arouses me and fills me with desire. I can feel my own pee swelling in my bladder. I know that soon it will be my turn.

Long streams of pee flood over your thighs and down your pale legs, before splashing off your feet and disappearing into the grass. I take hold of the gusset of your swimsuit and pull it to one side so I can see the pee flowing freely. Your bush is soaking with pee and I can see the folds of your labia curled like petals round your vulva. The steady flow forms an arc from your urethra, ebbing and flowing slightly as your bladder empties and you clench your muscles to force the last fluid out. I watch entranced as the flow gently subsides to a trickle, leaving a last few drops clinging to your labia.

Still holding your swimsuit open, I kneel down, feeling my knees splashing into the pee-soaked grass. I place my tongue on your labia and lick the last drops off the pale pink folds of flesh. I wriggle my tongue between the folds and the taste of pee changes to that of sexual juices as I push my tongue as deep as I can into you. The inside of your vaginal passage is as wet as your legs. My tongue explores you and you grab my hair as the nerve endings in your vaginal walls send one shockwave after another though your body, released by my tongue.

I won’t let myself touch your clitoris, although I know you desperately want me to.

I know you want to orgasm, but I’m not going to let it happen yet.

No, it is my turn now.

Standing up again, I grab your swimsuit, the top half still bundled round your waist, and pull it right down over your hips, over your thighs and down your wet legs. I discard it onto the grass. Without saying anything, I grab you round the waist and pull you towards me and push my lips against yours and mould my mouth over yours. I can feel your bare breasts against me and I know that your nipples will be stiffening. You are still shaking slightly from the physical and sexual release of your pee. You wrap your wet leg around mine, rubbing it against me like a friendly cat. I can feel your pubic hairs tickling against my thigh.

I let go of you and quickly undo my bikini top, throwing it down without thinking where it lands. Then I pull my bikini pants off. Now I am nude too.

I ask you to lie down. You lower yourself onto the grass, which is damp from your pee. You are breathing heavily, wanting what is coming next. The dark trim little bush between your legs is glistening slightly. Your legs are slightly apart, arms by your sides, hands clenched in the grass. Annie, I’m ready, you say.

I stand astride you over your tummy and bend my knees. I can feel the water in my stomach and bladder all ready to flow. Using my fingers I pull my labia apart to allow my pee to flow out freely.

I relax my muscles and let them loose.

A great stream of pale translucent pee arcs out from my urethra. The first stream of pee hits your chest and splashes over your breasts, soaking them in an instant. It flows down the channel between your breasts and gathers in a little steaming pool round your naval, before over-flowing and running down the sides onto the grass.

I can feel my pee flowing through my body and out over yours. By moving my hips I can aim it all over you. I aim for your face and you shut your eyes and open your mouth to let the pee flood in. There is so much that you are soon spluttering and gasping for breath. One hand is on your clitoris now, rubbing with all your might, the other burying two fingers inside your vagina as you writhe on the grass, my pee all over you as you orgasm.

The sight of you reaching your climax arouses me even more. Letting go of my labia, I use the fingers of my left hand to stimulate my clitoris while I slip my middle finger into my vagina, trying not to obstruct the flow of pee, although some of it is getting over my hands. You have your eyes closed, your body wet and glistening with my pee. I can feel the flow starting to slow, and I make sure the last of it goes over your little pale breasts and dark nipples.

As the flow slows, I slip a second finger inside me, and bend both fingers up towards the soft spongy place where my orgasm lives. My clitoris is poking out of its little fleshy nest and I am strumming it faster and faster as I feel my climax building inside me. My bare toes clench in the grass and I bend my knees as the last drops of pee trickle down my legs and I can see you looking up at me with your fingers still buried in your vagina and I cry out your name as I orgasm.

You reach up with one hand and grab my arm and pull me down towards you and my foot slips in the wet grass, wet with our pee, and I fall on top of you and we are both giggling. You roll me over on my back and sit astride me and your hair is falling over your face so I cannot see your beautiful eyes and I lift my hand up and push it to one side and look into your bright laughing eyes. My love for you makes my tummy feel funny. You grind your crotch against my pubic mound, rubbing your clitoris backwards and forwards across it, using my body to stimulate yourself and it feels so good. I love looking at your little dangling breasts and I reach up and stroke one of them, tenderly feeling it move under my touch. My fingers circle round the dark areole and I feel the little dimples rough like the surface of a thimble.

You are still rubbing against me. I know that you get aroused when your breasts are played with and especially your nipples. I deliberately circle round your nipple without touching it. You suck your lower lip between your teeth and bite on it. I have noticed that you do that when you are very aroused. I love you so much when you do it. To show how much I love you, I tweak your nipple between my thumb and forefinger and you breathe in sharply through your nose. I rub your nipple round and round, like rolling a tiny ball of dough, and then flick it backwards and forwards like a toggle switch. I’m smiling at you because I know how much you are enjoying this and you smile back at me, your smile lighting up your face and my tummy goes all funny again.

I can feel you rubbing your pubic mound harder against mine, and I know that you are going to orgasm again, the pressure against your clitoris enough to bring you off. I grab your whole breast in my hand and squeeze hard as your breathing gets faster and faster and the rubbing gets harder and harder and I arch my pelvis upwards, pushing my mound against you, tensing my muscles to press as hard as I can and then you orgasm and I feel you trembling and shaking as it rips through your body like an electric shock and you collapse on top of me and I put my arms around you and hold you so tight and put my mouth against yours and kiss you and kiss you and kiss you until your climax ends.

As your orgasm stops, I feel a warm gush of liquid over my pubic mound, and I know that you have let yourself pee again, your pale pee running over my sex and onto the grass.

I feel your heart beating hard against my chest as you nuzzle into me, your urethra pulsating gently as you squeeze out the last drops of pee. Your little breasts are pressed against mine and I curl my legs round yours, wanting to wrap my whole self around you like a big warm snugly blanket. I hold you for what seems like forever. I wish it was.

At last, we stop holding each other and jump back into the river again to clean ourselves off, because I don’t really want my car smelling of pee in case anyone thinks I have an incontinent dog or something. I towel you dry, and you do the same for me, lingering over my little breasts and the sensitive area between my legs. I put my t-shirt and shorts on. I leave my underwear off, although you are worried that my breasts and nipples are too obviously bare under my shirt. I tell you that you are just jealous in case anyone starts eying me up and you admit that this is true.

So you put your summer dress on...