Posted by Falling Star on May 10, 2001 at 09:41
Last month my mother sent me some old pictures she found in a box. They were taken the summer I was 14 and, although it was a memorable one, I hadn't thought about it in quite a while. The pictures changed that. I'll give you some background so it all makes some sense to you.
It begins after Easter in my 8th grade year. My grandparents had moved to Florida right before Christmas. I was missing them and, because I'd just had my birthday, the offered to fly me down to see them as my present. We did all the tourist things and I wore them out. And me too. After getting back I was very tired and, even with adequate sleep, it didn't seem to get any better. Finally, my mother took me to the doctor and, after waiting for blood test results, it was determined that I had Mononucleosis. I hadn't been keeping up with my schoolwork as it was and, after the diagnosis, stopped going to classes. My mother got my assignments but I was too tired to keep up with it. At the end of the school year the authorities determind I'd have to go to summer school in order to be promoted into High School. That did not set well with my parents or me either. My father had rented a summer cottage for the very first time and wasn't about to lose the deposit he'd paid on it. A compromise was worked out whereby I'd be tutored during the summer and be given re-tests before school started in the fall. Now the question was who was going to be my tutor.
My father had received a big promotion at his work and was working for a new boss. This man had a daughter who had just graduated from a private girls school and he was looking for something for her to do during the summer. Carolee had graduated with honors and was accepted at Yale so, in my parent's eyes, she was perfect for the job. They invited her for a weekend and, as we hit it off right away, was hired.
Even though she was four years older than me we both shared one thing in common. We were both "boy crazy".
I was in the dreaming of them stage and she was in the be with them stage. Once we settled in at the cottage it didn't take the local boys long to find us, especially Carolee.
The cottage was very small with only two bedrooms. There wasn't room for Carolee and, as part of the garage had been had been converted to an efficiency apartment, that became Carolee's. The routine for my studies had been established for the morning, before I became tired. The afternoons were free for whatever Carolee wanted to do. I'd usually sleep on the chaise. My parents were both avid golfers and, when my father was there, they'd leave around 8am and would return between 2 and 3 pm. With all the attention Carolee recieved from the boys, she'd usually leave with one or more of them after we ate lunch. It was on one of those days that this story evolves.
We'd had a heat wave with the temperatures very high. My mother wanted to make sure I drank enough and always had fresh lemonade in the refrigerator. I had taken a short nap after lunch and, upon waking, got up to get some. As I walked into the kitchen I thought I saw a boy closing the door to Carolee's room. I couldn't be sure but I got a stool and sat by the window waiting to see who, if anybody, came out. After about a half hour Carolee came out in her bathing suit. I thought that I'd made a mistake and was about to leave my perch when I saw the door open again and a boy I didn't know came out and disappeared down the road on foot. Not wanting Carolee to see that I'd been watching, I quickly lay down on the couch and pretended to be asleep. She walked in, passed me by and went back outside. Nothing was said. I lay there with my mind running wild and my heart beating a mile a minute. What were they doing? That thought became all pervasive for the next twenty four hours. However, I didn't dare bring the subject up to Carolee.
The next day, after lunch, I positioned myself in the same place in the kitchen. I was extremely tired but the excitement of the situation was enough to overcome it. I had to wait for about an hour and, with Carolee leading, the two of them went into her room. By then I needed to lay down but, knowing they were in there, was satisfied with my effort. I spent the remining waking hours fantasizing about what had transpired in the room.
The next morning I was awake much earlier than usual. As I lay in bed I got the idea to hide in Carolee's room and to see just what was happening when they were in there. I'd been in the apartment a fair amount of time and was familiar with the layout. It was very tiny, with the bed straight ahead as you walked in the door. There was room for a little night stand on one side and just enough room to walk down to a closet with an accordion door on the other. Inside the closet was a chest of drawers on one side and a hanging bar for clothes on the other. The bathroom was on the right as you walked in. It only held a toilet, shower and sink and was so small the door opened into the bedroom. In my "plan" I felt I could hide in the closet under the hanging clothes. When it came time for my lessons I just couldn't concentrate. My heart was beating so fast it hurt. Lunch took forever to eat. Finally, she left and, after waiting for a few minutes headed for her room. I had the presence of mind to bring a beach towel to sit on. I found there was ample space for me and that when the door was closed and latched I could actually see the middle of the bed through the notch for the latch. I'd have to kneel to do so but that was a small price to pay if what I'd imagined was to come true.
In all my planning and excited anticipation I'd forgotton one thing. To go to the bathroom. It only came to mind in the boredom of waiting. I was sitting on the towel with my legs tucked up under me, resting my shoulder on the door jamb. I was realtively comfortable until the recognition of my need. I sat there wondering if I should take a chance on ducking into the bathroom. There were no windows that faced to road they would be approaching from so I decided that was not a good idea. As my need to go began to increase I began to wonder if this whole thing was worth it. What would happen if Carolee found me? What would my parents think or do? The funny thing was that the more I thought about that, the more I found myself needing to pee.
I don't know how long I was there before they finally showed up. It scared me but not enough for me to leak. I quickly scrambled to my knees and put my eye to the notch. Just as I did I saw Carolee flop down on the bed. I could see from the small of her back to about halfway down her cheeks. I could see the boy's arm around her waist, pulling her to him. They didn't do much talking. It was mostly just giggling. Then I saw Carolee roll on top of him and I could see him pulling her top up towards her head. At this point I was tingling all over. I was watching something I'd only read about in trashy novels my girlfriends and I had shared. But, with the tingling came a crying need to pee. I'd been kneeling for a few minutes and, with my weakened condition, my knees had begun to shake. I was holding myself up with one hand on the door jamb and the other on the floor. But with this urgent need I had to put the one hand into my crotch. In past "dire situations", as my mother called them, I'd be able to buy a little time by bouncing up and down in a semi crouch. Without that ability I knew I was in trouble. That trouble came within seconds.
As I struggled to hold myself, Carolee had slipped off her shorts and was now straddling the boy, sitting on his privates. I couldn't tell what he had on at that point but Carolle was still in her panties. She sat there for what seemed like an eternity and as she did I felt some very warm pee run through my fingers. I think I was able to stop but then Carolee moved to be lying on top of the boy. As I watched I could see his penis standing straight up like a telephone pole and I watched as Carolee slipped it between her legs. Then I watched as they both rose and fell ever so slowly. It seemed like the effort was being put forth by the boy with Carolee just lying there. I was so engrossed with what was happening before my eyes that I hadn't realized that I had just emptied my entire bladder. In an unconscious effort to stop the initial flow I had begun to wiggle my fingers. I was still wiggling them when I made the discovery that I was kneeling in two puddles on the towel. But, what was to be my big breakthrough as far as sexuality was concerned, was happening between my legs. My wiggling fingers had somehow managed to find my "happy place". I'd had sensations from that area when washing or even wiping after using the toilet. But I'd also been warned by my mother that "nice girls" don't touch themselves down there. Well, I was and I found it to be very enjoyable. I'm sure that watching what was transpiring before my eyes added to it but it was certainly burned into my mind on that afternoon.
My knees gave out shortly thereafter and I had to sit down. But, when I did my hand never left my crotch. I continued to wiggle my fingers until I heard Carolee cry out. That scared me and I quickly got back up on my knees and peeked through the notch hole. The boy was now on top of Carolee. Of course I now know what he was doing but hearing her crying out had somewhat unnerved me. I sat back down and just listened. By then I wanted to get out of there. It was unbearably hot and I was concerned about Carolee. They didn't go on for long and hardly a word was spoken when they were getting dressed. I waited for a good 15 minutes before exiting myself and, fortunately, was not seen by Carolee.
Boys continued to visit Carolee for the rest of the summer. I never had any desire to replicate my spy act again. But, what I did replicate, as often as I dared, was to associate masturbation with panty peeing. That went on for almost 10 years until I married. My hubby was no fan of wathersports. I weaned myself of the activity for the next six years, the last one as a divorcee. But, upon seeing the pictures last month I rekindled my interest. With it came some related surfing which, in turn, led me here. I hope you enjoyed reading about my memory
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