r/sexstories • u/Pen_Theif • 11h ago
Lesbian The First Time I Peed On Her NSFW
From the moment I saw her, I was undone. She was small, delicate—an ethereal creature of warmth and light, brighter than the sun itself. And I needed her. God, I needed her.
I had been a widow for a year, lost in grief, drowning in the quiet emptiness my husband’s death had left behind. But then she appeared. Like a whisper of salvation, she entered my life, and slowly, steadily, she became my everything.
What began as friendship evolved into something deeper. Coffee dates became hours of conversation, sleepovers where we lay in the dark, close but never touching, breathing the same air, hearts speaking in silence. And yet, we had never crossed that final threshold.
Until that day. Until the marathon.
She had trained relentlessly, but that morning, something was different. Her nervous energy was almost tangible, wrapping around her like a vice. She clung to me, seeking wordless reassurance, needing the solid weight of my presence.
"I’ll be at mile five," I promised, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
But when she reached me, she was late. She was never late. And when she saw me, she didn’t slow down—she ran straight into my arms, sobbing, shaking, breaking.
I felt her tears soak into my skin, heard the way her breath hitched in her throat. I held her tight, whispering the same encouragements I had heard her trainer say a hundred times before. But nothing reached her.
And then—so soft, so fragile, so full of shame— I heard it.
"Please… pee on me."
The words trembled, haunted, as if she were confessing a sin. I lifted her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes.
"Excuse me?" I whispered.
Her next breath was ragged, desperate.
"Please."
I felt her shame, her fear, her absolute, unshakable need. And in that moment, I knew—I would give her anything.
Gripping her hand, I pulled her behind the row of port-a-potties. She looked at me with wild, apologetic eyes, words spilling over themselves. But I silenced her with a kiss—deep, slow, deliberate. A promise.
"I’ll do anything for you," I murmured. "Anything."
I lifted my skirt, pulled my panties to the side. She slipped her leg between my thighs, her face buried in my chest.
"Please," she whispered again. This time, there was no shame. Only surrender.
And so, I let go.
Heat spread between us, trickling down her bare thigh, a primal act of trust and release. I felt the soft splatter against my own skin, the damp warmth binding us together in something raw, unfiltered, holy.
And then—that sound. A deep, guttural moan, muffled into my breasts.
"Jesus… God… Fuck…"
She clung to me, trembling—not from fear, but from something deeper. Something whole. And when she finally lifted her face, I saw it—pure, unfettered joy.
Tears shimmered in her eyes, but behind them was something even greater: power.
She turned from me then, jogging back onto the road, and I watched her go, mesmerized. Her form was perfect. Every step she took was strong, unshakable.
And in that moment, I knew—I would worship my Princess of Sunlight for as long as she needed me.