A New Adventure Every Day Pt. 02

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This is the second part of the story of Sam and her new life. This is one, continuous story, so this part will not make a great deal of sense unless you have read Part 1, which can be found here:


Thanks must go to Winterreisser for his editing and suggestions and for correcting my silly typos and repeated mistakes. Thanks also to Kat for her advice, encouragement and all round niceness.

FAIR WARNING: While this story (all six parts) is, at its heart, a lesbian romance (hence its categorization), it does contain pee play and also scat (shit) play in this and later parts. If you have an aversion to such sexual activities then please, please do not read this story. I cannot make it clearer than that!

After reading, please take a moment to rate the story and, if you have the time and inclination, comment on it; this has taken many hours of writing so it would be good to hear what you think of it.

I hope you enjoy the story.


CHAPTER 7 – ‘There seems to be limited fun without you’

I’m awake early and recall my latest nocturnal adventure. Was there someone watching me or was it, as seems most likely, just my over excited imagination? And I was excited, I remember. Naked and peeing outside, fingering myself, pee splashing me and then cumming, lying in the long grass… I am aroused again as I rise and head down to the bathroom. I hesitate then climb into the bath and lay down, the white enamel cold against my back. I reach down and cup my hand over my vulva and I feel my excitement increase. Relaxing, I begin to pee, only to gasp as the hot fluid immediately fills my hand and flows over the skin of my sex.

This feels so kinky and erotic, just like last night, and I begin to rub my hands over my body, coating myself in urine. My arousal is intense and I cannot stop, cannot resist coating every square inch of myself, as I writhe in the bath while my fingers go to work on my pussy once again. Three fingers are again deep within me while my other hand is flat over the top of my slit, the fingertips rubbing rapidly back and forth across my clitoris. My panting cries echo in the confines of the bath as they grow faster and louder. A first shudder silences me and then the climax takes me, my fingers pressing hard on my clit.

I feel the post orgasmic lethargy begin to pass. I am in my bath and covered in piss, I point out to myself, trying to gauge my feelings about this. I know I should be disgusted by what I’ve done but the dominant feeling is: ‘Fuck, that was so hot!’

I stand and see a rivulet of yellow running to the plughole and my hands unconsciously roam over my slick skin. The smell of piss is mild, not the acrid scent I expected from public lavatories, and I find it is not unpleasant even a little arousing, given what I’ve just done. As I turn on the shower and start to wash I know this will not be a one off, despite the fact that I’ve always believed myself to be a sexually unadventurous woman with an average libido. Perhaps the country air is doing things for me.

I spend the day pottering about. I contact the phone company to sort out getting Internet access, check my bank account, pay some bills and read a novel. After lunch I also start preparing lasagne – for two. She said we’d go for a run tomorrow, so we need to sort that out, I tell myself, and that I’m also in danger of becoming isolated if I avoid seeing people. The simple truth is I miss her.

The truth is also that I know very little about Meg and her life; I certainly don’t know what time she arrives home and so, rather than spending the afternoon looking out the window like some demented Neighbourhood Watch member, I copy her idea and put a note through her letterbox. It takes several drafts until I’m fully happy with it:

Hello Meg,

Alas, there seems to be limited fun without you. However, if you’re not busy this evening and you’ve not received a better offer, how does homemade lasagne sound?

With love from your friend,



As soon as I drop the note through the letterbox in her front door, I have butterflies in my stomach. I tell myself I’m being ridiculous, that I’m not fourteen and going on a date but I remain jittery. I finally manage to settle into reading a book when there’s a knock on the door. It’s just after half past three and when I open the door there is Meg looking slightly flushed and, yes, a little out of breath. My note is clasped in her hand.

“I, er, I’m not busy and didn’t have a better offer,” she says, trying to sound casual, “and I do love lasagne.”

“Meg Dike, if I didn’t know better I’d think you just ran down the road to get here when you read my note.” Her cheeks turn bright red as I’ve hit the nail on the head. I suddenly know that Karen was right and Meg Ümraniye Escort is really attracted to me. I wish I understood why.

I smile, “That’s very sweet Meg, and I missed seeing you yesterday. I’m glad you didn’t have a better offer for this evening.”

“Oh, there’d never be…” she blushes again and bites her lip. I take her hand and pull her gently through the doorway. I have to fight down the urge to wrap my arms around this adorable adoring girl; I have never felt so fancied by anyone in my life!

I settle for a light kiss on her cheek. “Come on through,” I tell her, “and I meant what I said: I really missed seeing you yesterday. Tea or coffee?” I ask as we enter the kitchen. “I’ve got wine but it’s a bit early for that; I don’t want to end up pissed again and you putting me to bed…” My voice trails off and it’s my cheeks that now colour.

“Oh, I’d love to call your bluff on that one, Sam Cummings! I mean, neither of us has to work tomorrow morning so we could get drunk. Perhaps I should get drunk and then you can take me to bed…”

“Don’t you mean ‘put me to bed’ rather than ‘take me to bed’?”

“I know what I mean!”

I laugh. “Yes, you probably do! Definitely no wine yet then. I can’t have you misbehaving.” She pouts and sticks her tongue out at me.

“Alright, a cup of tea then, spoilsport.”

“You can have a biscuit as a treat, if you like,” I tell her as I put the kettle on. I hesitate, trying to remember where the mugs are.

“If you’re looking for the mugs, they’re in the top cupboard near the sink.” I smile; Meg seems to know my kitchen better than I do and I tell her so. “Well, I did have lots of time to explore the other morning: you were ages in the shower!” she teases.

We sip our cups of tea as we chat and I confess to seeing the X-Men film. “It wasn’t quite as boring as I’d feared,” I tell her.

“Sam, if you’d wanted to see a film I could have brought a DVD along… hey! We could watch one tonight after we eat. Would you like that… on the sofa together?”

“As long as you don’t start thinking it’s the back row of the cinema!” I warn her. “Have you a film in mind?”

“I don’t… actually, yes, there is. It’s a romance, okay?”

“Sure, as long as it’s not some American teen romance.”

“Nope, it’s not. It’s British and there are no teens I promise. I’ll pop back to my house and get it. Anything else I can bring? Wine? A salad? Change of clothes and my toothbrush?”

“Go on, get out of here!” I slap her bum gently, “And just for that last comment you forfeit your next chocolate biscuit.” I tell her in my best teacher voice. She pretends to look contrite but there’s a grin on her face as she skips out the door.

We share the meal together and I’m very happy and content in Meg’s company. Both of us also feel very full of lasagne by the end and my offer of ice cream is declined. “So,” I ask for the fourth time, “what’s the film?”

“Okay, it’s called Imagine Me and You.”

“Never heard of it. Can I see the box so I can read the blurb?”

“Er, no, you’ll just have to watch it.”

I narrow my eyes suspiciously; she’s up to mischief I’m sure. “What are you up to? This isn’t a porn film is it?”

“No!” she laughs, “I promise there is no nudity or sex… apart from kissing, obviously. I don’t think you could make a romance without kissing.”

“I’m not sure you can a real romance without sex, at some point.”

“No, perhaps not. You can have love, deep love, without sex.”

I look her in the eyes. “Yes, you absolutely can,” I tell her earnestly and she looks down, shyly. A treacherous thought crosses my mind: Okay, but how long can you have a deep love for someone before it pushes you into wanting, needing to have sex with them? I don’t have an answer to that.

Meg tops up our glasses and I notice there’s still a quarter of the bottle left which is good as I really don’t want either of us drunk. “Shall we watch the film?” she asks and we head through to the sitting room.

After the obligatory fumbling trial-and-error button pushing on the remote controls we settle back together on the two-seat sofa as the film begins.

Less than ten minutes in I tickle Meg’s ribs. “This is a lesbian romance, isn’t it? That flower girl, er…”

“Luce,” Meg provides.

“Yes, Luce; she’s gay and she and the bride Rachel have just shared ‘that look’ that shows they fancy each other.”

“Yes, well done and well spotted: it’s a lesbian romance. It that a problem?”

“No… it’s just that you sprung it on me.”

Meg laughs, “Sam, I told you I was gay within, like, five minutes of meeting you. When I told you this was a romance, what did you expect? Ditsy blonde falls for big hunky man? Anyway, this is one of my favourite films, so I thought you might enjoy it too, even with lesbians in it.”

“Sorry, that was stupid of me, I should have realized. Anyway, a new adventure Ümraniye Escort Bayan and all that so I promise to just enjoy the film. Let me just rewind it a little so I don’t miss anything.”

We watch the film and I can see why Meg picked it. Nonetheless I am drawn into it and I cannot help empathising a little with the character Rachel. I realise that Meg has moved and she is snuggled against me, her hand on mine. It feels so companionable and safe that I’m happy she’s there. When the girls kiss I feel her squeeze my hand. I also feel a soft butterfly excitement; I want these girls to be together, to become close friends then lovers. The idea of two women sharing their life together is actually turning me on!

As the film ends I discover that Meg and I have been holding hands for some time, though I cannot recall when her hand on mine became hand-in-hand. I’m not sure she can either as she smiles when she notices it. “Did you enjoy the film,” she asks.

“I did, very much, thank you. I do like a happy ending.”

“Me too,” and she gives my hand another squeeze and her eyes sparkle at me, full of hope.

I know why she chose this film, that I’m Rachel to her Luce and that she wants me to accept the attraction to her that she knows I feel. If only it were that straight forward or that we could fast-forward to see if there was going to be a ‘happily ever after.’ “Thanks for a lovely evening, Meg,” I tell her gently but firmly. The way her shoulders sag when she realizes that I mean it tugs at my heart.

“Okay,” she accepts reluctantly. “Can I just use your bathroom?” I agree and follow her as I carry the empty wine glasses into the kitchen and place them in the sink. Walking into the hallway I am just outside the bathroom door which is ajar and can hear the splash and tinkle of Meg as she pees. It would be so easy to push the door open and see her as she saw me… I wonder if she’d like that. I hear the toilet flush and step quickly away from the door. In the hall we say our goodnights and kiss each other’s cheeks.

“Don’t forget, nine o’clock tomorrow for our run,” she reminds me as she turns and heads down the garden path.

“I won’t,” I reply as I wave to her. I close the door, and lean against it, my head and my heart in a turmoil of conflicting ideas, desires and emotions.

I head to bed but I cannot sleep. The clock ticks past midnight and I climb out of bed. I pull my nightie off and walk down stairs to the back door. I open it and walk naked but with confidence into the garden and on, through the gate into the woods. I still have not explored but the angle of the moon, lower in the sky, better illuminates underneath the trees.

I walk a little way into the trees, further than last time, and while the air cools my skin it is not cold. I move to one side of the path into the gap between two closely growing trees. The ground is soft and mossy under my feet as I rest my back against the rough bark of the tree behind me and brace my knees on the smoother bark of the tree in front. As this morning I cup my vulva as I begin to pee, the liquid so hot compared to the air. Once again my hands caress my skin, wetting my stomach and boobs. I bring dripping fingers to my mouth and suck them. The liquid is slightly salty and sour but not as strong as I expected. I taste it again, feeling my sexual excitement rise.

I am masturbating hard as I stand there wedged between the trees, my fingers rubbing my lips and clit and playing with my nipples. The pee has cooled on my skin but my arousal warms me from within. I begin making soft gasping noises and my climax nears until, “Nnnnnnnnnnnn!” as my orgasm forces a long moan from me.

I gasp and take a breath as the orgasmic spasm passes and I raise my finders to my lips to clean them when I hear a voice, a loud whisper, “Over there!”

A bolt of pure fear penetrates me and I soundlessly ease myself around the tree against which I’m leaning away from the voice. I hear soft movement as I ease lower into the black shadow below the moonbeam slanting through the trees. I hear movement close by as I peep around the tree and barely manage to suppress a gasp; looking up I see the moonlight angle across the naked chest of a woman from right shoulder to just above her left nipple in a twelve inch stripe of silvered flesh. Everything above and below is invisible, the darkness too deep for the eye to penetrate over the glare of the shining skin.

I freeze, staring. The breasts are of average size, with only a little sag. The nipples are large and flat and hard in the cool air. Just below the clavicle on the front of the shoulder there is a mark, too dark for a scar so I guess it is a tattoo: two lines with a blob between them. It reminds me vaguely of a zodiac symbol, though I cannot for the life of me think which one. Who are these women? Is one of them the woman I saw that first night? Why are they here?

My legs are starting Escort Ümraniye to ache when, after what seems an age, the woman moves on. Passing out of the moonlight it is almost as if she vanishes in a blink. However, her soft footsteps betray her. Another voice calls quietly, “She may have headed this way,” and her steps hurry out of earshot. Stealthily I keep low and head back, constantly listening. When I see my gate at last, I run the final stretch and dive though the gate. I hear it bang softly being me so I do not hesitate but hurry into the house; it is only with the door closed behind me that my heart rate starts to calm.

I inhale deeply and smell the piss on my skin and, erotic though I find this, I know I need to shower before getting back into bed. However, I cannot resist cupping my boob and lifting it until my outstretched tongue can lap the nipple. The taste of the piss and sweat on my skin is perfect and I repeat the process on the other nipple before showering.

CHAPTER 8 – ‘I’d like you to watch’

I wake to the sound of knocking and am momentarily disorientated as I fail to recognise my still new bedroom. The knocking comes again and I realize that it is someone at the front door. I look at the clock: it reads 09:22. “Oh crap!” I sigh and know that it is Meg at the door for our nine o’clock run. I’m going to get a reputation for being late. I hurry out of the bedroom door and, halfway down the stairs, realize that I’m naked; I hesitate, considering going back for my dressing gown but think, ‘Sod it! She saw me naked on Sunday anyway: what have I got to hide?’

It is indeed Meg at the door. “About time too, sleepyhead!” she says, as she turns and sees me naked in the doorway. A big smile lights up her face, “Forget it: answering the door like that means you’re completely forgiven!” I step back and Meg steps through the door and her hand slides across my hip as she leans in to kiss me, “Mmm Sam you smell nice, all fresh and clean.” The touch of her hand and my nakedness flick a switch in me and, on a sudden impulse, I turn my head so our lips meet. The kiss is brief, no more than the pressing of our lips together but Meg’s eyes go wide in surprise.

“Gotcha!” I laugh and Meg smiles but actually looks uncertain. “I’ll be down in a minute,” I tell her as I run up stairs, giving her a new view of me. ‘Why the fuck did I kiss her like that?’ I ask myself as I pull on panties and short black running leggings. I know what I’ll say if she asks me: I’ll tell her it was just to get my own back for her flirting. Next, I pull on a sports bra. But why really did I kiss her? I like her, a lot, but do I fancy her? I sit on the edge of the bed to slip on socks and my trainers. Oh god, she’s going to think I do fancy her and after I promised Karen I wouldn’t mess Meg around. Despite my mental debates, I am heading back down in three minutes flat with a renewed resolve to behave myself. As I descend the stairs I register what Meg is wearing: a short white tennis dress. “We are going running aren’t we? I ask.

“Of course; it’s just in this warm weather this is nice and cool.” She grasps the hem of her dress and raises it, revealing her naked and hairless pussy. Now it’s my turn for my eyes to go wide and the castle wall of my resolution to behave develops some very worrying cracks. “Gotcha back!” she laughs as she throws her panties at me and I catch them. Come on, let’s go!” I drop the panties on the bottom stair and follow her out the door.

Just outside the gate I hear a voice call, “Hi Meg.” I look towards it and see a woman about my age in the lane outside the cottage next door. Her hand is on the gate so I guess that this is Katie Andrews, my next door neighbour.

“Hi Katie,” Meg calls back, confirming my guess, and starts to walk towards her. Meg beckons me to follow with a glance and a flick of her head. Katie and I shake hands as Meg introduces us. Katie is a little shorter than average, around five foot four, and has an average-sized bust and full hips, not fat but rounded and soft. She is a brunette, with her hair worn in a longish bob, but with eyes of the darkest blue I’ve ever seen. Her face is round with a petite, rounded nose and, despite her age, a dusting of freckles on the tops of her cheeks.

She looks up at me and smiles as we shake hands and a pair of dimples appear, giving her a cute, girlish look. I’m frankly amazed that she’s not married or with someone: most blokes would go for her I think. “I’m pleased to meet my new neighbour,” she tells me, “though I’ve clearly been slow off the mark welcoming you,” she comments with a slight teasing note in her voice as she looks at Meg. “So, where are you ladies off to?”

“Sam wanted to go for a run so I offered to come with her and find a route to run; just as a friend,” Meg adds pointedly.

“I never considered anything else,” replies Katie calmly, though I can imagine why Meg wanted to clarify this. “Enjoy your run ladies and I’m sure we’ll see more of each other Sam. Bye for now.”

I wonder about Katie’s parting comment of seeing more of each other. Of course, it’s a fairly common expression but on the other hand, if Meg said had said it to me then the meaning would be anything but innocent!

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