Although her thong was already quite damp, as I watched, a dark patch began to spread, then a few drips began to fall. Soon the material could hold...the wet no more as she unleashed steady stream of piss. My senses were all on alert, listening to the faint hissing sound of pee escaping her cunt, then the louder splashing sound of it hitting the paving stones. I was trying to take in the view, rivulets running down her inner thighs, soaking her stockings and the waterfall of pee falling. They laughed together as they recounted funny things in films they had seen and books they had read. And she asked him about himself.He told her of his university studies; of the bomb blast in London when on holiday two years ago, which had killed his parents and left his wife Denise severely crippled, with both legs amputated above the knee and unable to speak because of brain damage. Of the nursing home where she now spent most of her time; of the occasional week-ends when he brought her to. More

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