Bill Turner was a straightforward, uncomplicated man. He liked the simple pleasures in life: beer, cigarettes, a spot of gambling and women. Not that he'd had much luck with women. He was forty-two, lived on his own and didn't quite have the kind of looks or personality which most women find attractive. Still, he was happy enough. His job as a plumber was reasonably well-paid and he had some good mates down at the Club.
Today he was on his way to a small city office where they always seemed to be having problems with the Ladies' loos. Never the Gents'. But then men don't do daft things like stuff sanitary products down the toilets (usually!). It wasn't his first visit, so he knew the place reasonably well. This time he was going to crack the problem once and for all. He was armed with a new plastic waste pipe and his usual array of tools. He arrived, signed their visitors book, and stuck his usual dog-eared notice to the door - 'OUT OF ORDER' - and asked the Receptionist to check it was empty. It was, so he went in.
There was only one cubicle so it was quite important that it was working (most of the office workers were women). Fortunately, he didn't think it would take long to replace the small-bore waste out-fall pipe at the back of the pedestal with the larger-bore plastic one he'd brought. He went into the cubicle. Yep, usual problem! The toilet pedestal was nearly full! Some bright spark had tried to flush it again and again in the hope of unblocking it. It usually just made matters worse. 'Ruddy women', he thought. He did the thing he always did when he arrived; switched his trusty (but battered) transistor radio to his favourite station and put it down. As usual, he liked it loud.
He soon had the inspection cover off and was arranging his torch and tools inside in preparation for replacing the pipe. There wasn't much room to work; not helped by his large frame having become even larger since he was last here. Too much beer. The waste trays were in place (this could be a bit messy, but he was used to that) so all he needed to do was loosen the fitting and he'd be ready for the swap. It didn't prove as easy to move as he thought. The thread was corroded and he couldn't budge it. By now most of his torso was disappearing into the inspection hatch, behind the loo. If he could just move the thing a little, the rest would be easy.
The office meeting had over-ran. A woman in her early thirties emerged from the meeting room, looked at her watch, and cursed. She was now running nearly half an hour late. She had to leave straight away or she'd be late for her next appointment. She was also desperate for the loo. She dumped her papers on her desk and marched purposefully towards the Ladies'. She pushed the outer door open, not noticing three small pieces of Blu-Tack and a piece of cardboard on the floor, a couple of feet away. (It was face down and had "OUT OF ORDER" on it). She swung the inner door open to see a couple of legs appearing from the wall next to the toilet she desperately wanted to sit on. Damn. A transistor radio was blaring out, so she had to shout.
"Excuse me....I said EXCUSE ME. I really have to use the loo. Will you be long?". Bill could barely hear the woman, who was obviously unable to read, so he wasn't sympathetic. "Sorry luv, it could take half an hour or more. You'll just have to hold on". She hated being called 'luv'. By now the pressure had really started to build; she was in trouble. Meanwhile, Bill was busy hitting the end of his wrench with his large Stilssons in the hope of budging it. By now only his legs and waist were visible; the rest of him was in the inspection hatch. He couldn't swing his hand far, there wasn't enough room, but he gave one almighty blow and the thing moved at last. Gotcha!
By now the woman had turned and had pushed the inner door open. She didn't know where she could go, but there seemed no point in staying. Seeing a toilet full of water (well, mainly water) was not helping her. Just then a spurt of pee escaped. She stopped dead, between the two doors, pressing her legs together and pushing her fingers against her pussy. This is not happening, she thought. But it was. Damn!
She turned back, swung the inner door open and virtually screamed at the legs. "LOOK, YOU HAVE TO GO NOW. I MUST USE THE TOILET". Bill could hear she was pretty desperate, so relented. "Okay okay luv, keep yer hair on. I'm coming". He tried to ease himself out of the inspection hatch, but didn't move an inch. He tried harder but its wooden edge cut into his skin through his boiler suit and so he stopped. He was stuck! He tried and tried but simply couldn't pull himself out. He wasn't normally claustrophobic, but this was beginning to panic him.
"You won't believe this, luv, but I'm stuck! You'll have to help me. Can you pull me out by the legs?. Hello?". The woman bent down towards his legs and another squirt escaped. She immediately bolted upright and pressed as hard as she could. There was no way she was going to pull him out without wetting herself. She was going to pee herself, he was stuck behind the hatch, and there was a toilet in front of her! Her bladder kept on saying " toilet....pee....toilet...pee, " but her brain was saying "NO, NO". Her brain was losing out.
Then she had a brilliant idea. If HE wasn't going anywhere, she could use the loo anyway. Her modesty would be preserved and the radio would probably drown the noise, so why not? There was no time for second thoughts. She had her tights and panties down in no time. All she had to do was step over his legs and position herself over the loo. She moved her right leg over him. An arc of pee erupted from between her thighs and landed on the plumber's boiler suit, just above his knee. She stopped. God, she didn't believe what had just happened. Suddenly she was aware that she was still peeing and it was slowly trickling down her thigh. "NO!", she said out loud. Just then she trickle turned into a torrent and once again it arched up and landed on the plumber, this time near his waist. Her feet wouldn't move, and she couldn't stop. It was like she was a spectator watching it happen to someone else.
Bill was kicking his legs furiously, "Hey lady, what are doing. Hey stop it!" But there was nothing she could do but watch with disbelief. Gradually the arc diminished and in doing so, moved down from his waist, down his legs, ending up with a small trickle onto his shoes. It was an accident, but she'd managed to pee on every part of him she could see!
"I don't know who you are, lady, but I'll report you for this!", said Bill, feeling very wet from the waist down. "Hello? HELLO?". It occurred to the woman that he was right, he did not know who she was. She smiled to herself, pulled her tights and panties up, and left, feeling much better now. She didn't really mean to pee on the guy, but maybe someone who refers to a successful business executive as 'luv' deserves to be peed on? Outside the door she glanced down; there was a piece of cardboard on the floor. She picked it up, read the slogan, and understood what had gone wrong. She felt a twinge of guilt, overwhelmed by satisfaction though! She put in back on the door so that no-one else would go in there. And left the building.
Meanwhile Bill was still struggling to get free. Her urine on his skin had started to make him sweat more, this had started to lubricate things a bit, and after a struggle he eventually managed to pull himself free. So in a way, she had helped him to get free! He looked down at his sopping wet boiler suit. What a bitch! But he also knew he'd probably never know who it was. And didn't really want to find out either!
He took his boiler-suit off and started drying it with the hand-dryer. It took nearly half an hour to get it dry enough to wear. He kept using his nose (for some reason) to see if it was okay. He didn't know whether it had been an accident. Maybe she'd peed on him deliberately? He looked faintly ridiculous, in his shirt, socks and Y-fronts, standing there in front of an air dryer in the Ladies'. With an erection.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Bill arrived home a little later than usual. He'd managed to finish the job and leave the building wihout anyone seeing him. Driving home, he'd kept playing the whole thing back in his mind, over and over again. He closed his front door, picked the mail off the mat, and took his boiler suit off. He glanced at the clock; nearly time. He grabbed a pork pie and a can of beer from the fridge and made his way upstairs to the back bedroom. He went in, in his shirt and underwear and put the beer and pie on a table. He didn't switch the light on. He glanced out through his window; good, she wasn't back yet. Focusing his binoculars on the upstairs window across the way, he waited as he munched the pie and sipped his beer.
He didn't have too long to wait, but she was late tonight. About 20 minutes in fact, and she was normally so punctual. Something must have delayed her. Then her bedroom light came on and Bill put his pie down. His heart started to race. A well-dressed woman in her early thirties, she was a creature of habit. She always came home, put the bedroom light on, got changed, and then drew the bedroom curtains. The wrong way round, of course, but not for Bill. He picked the binoculars up, focused, and waited for the usual spectacle. Okay, she only ever stripped down to her bra and panties, but she was a well-developed woman and Bill thought it was worth it!
She took her 2-piece suit off and Bill enjoyed the sight as she carefully put it on hangers and put it in the wardrobe. In a few seconds she'd be dressed again and the 'show' would be over. But tonight she seemed more languid. She stood for ages, next to the bed, motionless. Then she glanced out the window. Bill didn't move; he knew he couldn't be seen. She looked away from the window and her hands reached round behind her. She undid her black bra and her two gorgeous, round 36DD breasts were released from captivity. Bill nearly choked. His heart was pounding and he was having difficulty keeping the binoculars steady.
She cupped her right breast with her left hand, and sat on the edge of her bed. She seemed to be moving it slightly. Then she lay back on the bed, and her right hand wandered down and slipped under her black panties. It began to move, slowly at first, then more vigorously. The woman was masturbating! Bill couldn't believe his luck. What an extraordinary day this was turning out to be.
Bill's right hand also wandered down, leaving his left hand to steady the binoculars. This was unbelievable! The woman was getting closer to orgasm. She was thinking about something that had happened to her that afternoon. About when she was bursting for the loo and had ended up accidentally peeing on a plumber, whoever he was. Yes, yes... this was it.
Meanwhile Bill was similarly pre-occupied. His brain was on overload. He was seeing this woman in the bedroom, but kept imagining the feeling when some unknown woman had pissed all over him that afternoon. Yes, yes...nearly there...
The both 'shared' a tremendous orgasm, albeit 50 yards away from each
other. Neither of them ever did find out the true identity of the other.
Even though they were almost neighbours. - The End -
John Martin Stories