ONE FRIDAY NIGHT
By Raffles, April 1995

A few years ago I worked with a girl named Patti who was a couple of years
younger than I was. Patti was a sweet girl, but not very bright. She was
also kind of a flake and would do just about anything someone would dare her
to do. She was blonde, petite and thin, and had a lovely hourglass figure.
She also loved to party. While we each dated others, we used to spend some
evenings together if neither of us was going out.

One Friday night in July we had agreed to meet after work at a nearby pub for
drinks and something to eat. At first we sat at a table with some other
people from work, talking, telling stories and having a lot of laughs. Patti
and I also had a few beers, and were really beginning to feel pretty good.
After awhile the conversation got around to whether men or women were better
drinkers and who could hold her beer longer. Finally, I bet Patti $25.00
that she would have to go pee before I did, and she took me up on it.

We stayed around for a couple of hours more eating, talking to the others and
having a couple of more bottles of beer. About that time I noticed that
Patti wasn't looking so happy any more. I asked her what was wrong, and she
admitted that she needed to pee. She wanted me to let her out of the bet,
but I wasn't about to let her off that easily. Some of the others also
teased her a bit about giving up so quickly and about upholding the honor of
womanhood. Finally I agreed that we could leave right away and that she
could pee at home. At the last second, I also added that in return for
letting her off, I would get to watch when she peed. I think the alcohol was
really affecting her by that time because she didn't appear to think that was
a problem and agreed right away.

We said our good byes to the others, left the pub and went outside to get a
cab. It was drizzling, and it took awhile before an empty cab came by. As
we waited, I could see that she couldn't stand still. She was fidgeting and
squirming back and forth, obviously needing to go very badly at this point.
Finally we found a cab and got in. She was wearing a very tight white
skirt that came just midway down to her knees, and she slid in very
carefully, crossing her legs and keeping one hand over the lower part of her
stomach.

About halfway home Patti turned to me and said, "Listen, I really have to go
bad. It really hurts, and I don't know if I can hold it."

"Just hang on," I told her. "You can make it. We're nearly there."

After that she was quiet, but continued crossing and uncrossing her legs and
pressing on her stomach as we rode along. I could tell she was very
uncomfortable. At the same time, I found myself getting very turned on by
her predicament. She continued to change positions every few seconds. As
she got more and more fidgety I noticed that her skirt was creeping up her
thighs and that she was now pushing the front of it down between her legs. A
few minutes later, she had her hand under her skirt, and I could she her
pressing directly on her crotch and the white panties under her pantyhose.
Was it my imagination, or was there already a little dark spot in the
fabric? At this point I was really aroused and hard as a rock.

Finally the cab stopped in front of her house. Patti pulled her skirt down,
carefully got up from the seat and climbed out. I half expected to see a wet
spot on the back of her skirt, but there was nothing. She still kept one
hand over her crotch, putting some pressure on to hold herself back as we
walked quickly up the walkway.

"Ohhh!! I don't think I'm going to make it." I heard her say, stopping
after a few steps. Then she started to run towards the door. As soon as she
got there she began going frantically through her purse looking for her keys.
She was hopping up and down and from one foot to the other as she searched,
trying desperately to hold back a little longer.

"Oh, I can't find my keys!" She was almost yelling, and it was apparent she
was going to lose control any second. I was still fascinated watching her,
and also by my own reaction.

"Maybe the back door's unlocked." she finally gasped and took off along the
side of the house with me right behind her. Patti got to the door, and had
just put her hand on the knob to turn it, when suddenly she froze.

"Oh shit!" she cried, "It's too late. I can't wait."

She bent over and grabbed for the bottom of her skirt. It was pretty tight,
but she quickly managed to tug it up above her thighs. Again I could see
the light colored panties underneath her white pantyhose as she turned and
faced me. Immediately she squatted all the way down spreading her legs just
as a thick yellow stream began to pour out right through her panties and
pantyhose. It was as if a dam had burst. I could hear it sizzling and
watched as it continued to fall from between her legs splashing and forming a
puddle on the walk between her feet. It was an amazing sight, and at that
point I was on the verge of doing a little squirting of my own.

Finally the stream slowed to a trickle and then stopped. There now was a
large wet spot in the crotch of her pantyhose. Some pee had run down her
thighs a little way too, but she had managed to keep it from going all the
way down her legs. Her skirt had remained dry also, and she stood up and let
it drop back into place. Except for the puddle on the walkway, it looked as
if nothing had happened. She turned towards me with a relieved look.

"Well, I said I'd let you watch me pee, although this wasn't exactly how I'd
pictured it." she said, and began laughing.

I laughed too, but at the same time I couldn't believe how hot I'd become. I
asked if there was anything I could do, but she said she didn't need any
help. In a few minutes she was inside, and that was that last I saw of her
that night. There was nothing for me to do but head home, horny as hell.
At the same time, I couldn't get the picture out of my mind of Patti with
her legs spread and the pee gushing out from between her thighs.

When I saw Patti again at work, I teased her a bit about what happened. She
took it in good humor, but I think deep down she was embarrassed, and there
was never a chance for a repeat performance. She got married and moved away
about six months later and we lost touch, but I'll always remember the
special treat she gave me.

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