It looked like it was going to be another successful party. 

It was nice to see some of the same faces as other years, and not so nice for some others. There has been little change over the years to the roster of village citizens or guests at the party, so I keep my relationship with them as the absentee friend and keep the drinks coming, the ice stocked and the finger foods warm. 

Bill and Maria were always a pleasure. He’s the funniest dentist I know, which, considering the pool of dentists I know, isn’t saying much. Maria has a degenerative bone disease, so every year she still feels like coming out is a blessing. 

There’s the three hens, aka the minions; my ex-wife’s friends. Christine, Jeannie, and Karen. They’re pleasant enough to my face, but I know they watch everything I do and report back to her. I tried not to disappoint them for a few years, but I’m not that guy, and the village isn’t a hotbed of sleaze, so I’ve become used to having them waste their time keeping tabs on me. Christine is the ringleader, if such a thing exists amongst minions, a vapid socialite who lives by feeling her own relevance. Karen has an appropriate name, and Jeannie represents the anomaly. Far shyer than the others, she shows kindness and warmth, and if it weren’t for history, she’d be worth the scandal. 

There’s Walt, the closest thing Apple Lake has to a mayor. Village Executive is the official title, and it’s little more than a part-time, poorly paid gig, which is odd considering the relative wealth of many in the village. He likes it, and as the only Certified Financial Planner in the area, he doesn’t need the money. He’s just been telling me about some of the latest new residents, one of whom is in attendance tonight. 

There were about 30 people, all arrayed around the large open floor plan of the lake house, vying for their turn in the single bathroom at the center of the house. On one side is the kitchen and large dining room, and on the other is a wide open space up against large picture windows overlooking a grassy slope leading down to the lake. People built the original house in the 1850s, and sadly, no photos of it exist until the 30s when it gained its first addition. They modernized it in the 70s, and they made the interior into an open plan. It’s a split level, and Walt and I were standing at the railing overlooking the living area from the dining room. 

“Her name is Jennifer, and she moved in after your party last year. New governess, or whatever old man Mackey is calling her.” His eyes point out a petite Asian woman with bobbed black hair, a white sleeveless blouse and a khaki, thigh-length skirt. “He’s been travelling a lot more this year, and she’s in that monster house alone with the staff and the children. It’s good to see her out; I don’t think she gets away very much.”

“Governess,” I let the word roll in my mouth. “She seems too old to be an au pair.” Not that she was old, but an au pair seemed like a teenager, and she was not a teenager. It was hard to pin an age on her. I guessed mid-thirties?

“I will leave it to you to discover her secrets.” Walt finished the last of his bourbon, and we walked back to the counter, where he set his empty glass. “You should talk to her; she’s pretty.”

“She is,” I agreed, “but I’ll talk to her anyway.” I winked at him. 

“Tom, it’s been six years now? Don’t you think you’ve waited long enough? 

“Who says I’ve waited?”

He did that thing where he looked over the top of his glasses at me. “Tom.” 

“Well? I’ve been busy.”

“With all those college students?”

“That would be unprofessional.” 

“Of course.” He agreed. He pushed his glasses up with a finger. “Despite that, you’re not getting any younger. I’m not saying you should prey on her, but at least chat with her a little. Besides, it will give the Minions something to talk about.” It wasn’t good that we both looked over at them, but their attention was riveted on Jennifer, who appeared to be in some discomfort. It almost looked like she was… no. I’m sure it was my imagination.

We looked at each other. “OK, Walt, you sold me. I’ll do it for the Minions. Besides, she looks… uncomfortable.” 

“See? She’s screaming ‘save me, save me’,” he finished in a high-pitched voice. “And what will the children do without their governess? Tom, think of the children.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be leaving yet?”

Walt sighed. “Yes. Susan will need help getting to bed again.” He finished his beer, and we walked past the kitchen counter, where he set the bottle down, on our way to the front door. “I’d like to say I’m coming back, but… those days are gone. I’ll have another beer and fall asleep.”

“Sounds like a good evening to me.”

“See? Find yourself a good woman so you can fall asleep at home with a beer.”

“I already do that, no woman required.” I didn’t tell him the part where I would hold my pee until I leaked and couldn’t help peeing my pants. No woman was going to tolerate that. My ex sure didn’t. 

“I know the divorce was hard, but you’ve bounced back well. You got this place out of the deal, and while I love seeing you, if you ever want to sell…”

“You’ll be the first to know, Walt.”

“Have fun and be good, and if you can’t be good, be careful,” he offered as his standard parting. I mumbled the rest along with him, “And if you can’t be careful, name it after me.” 

“I’ll see you Sunday, Walt. 

“Not if I see you first.” I checked to see if there was anyone else arriving as he went down the pathway to the street, but there wasn’t, so I went back to the kitchen.

I got the Lakehouse in the divorce and had even lived here for a while. Long enough to finish authoring a book as a follow-up to my PhD. The book, while financially pointless, got me an offer from the University of New Mexico, and so it was off to Albuquerque for me. For the past 5 years, I returned in mid-June for a week, coinciding with Founders Day, and threw the traditional party we had thrown for years prior on the Friday before the 21st. 

I would never have been able to afford that place, so I worked with Walt, and we got it set up as an Air B&B. A local family handled the cleaning, and the house generated enough income to cover expenses and then a little extra. I looked forward to coming back every June, hosting the party on Friday night, and then pissing myself silly through the weekend before having the professional crew come in and give the place the yearly deep cleaning. My little treat to myself. 

Even now, as I went to pop open another beer, I toyed with holding during the party, although I would never wet with guests in the house; still, it could be fun to risk a little leaking. I switched to another playlist, Summer Suarez, on Amazon Music and did some recon.

The party had been going on since 5, and it was pushing 9 now, with the sun still kissing the horizon this close to the solstice. The sunset was gorgeous over the lake, and with the back porch being a perfect vantage point, many of the guests were outside. I refreshed the food spread  — nothing fancy, pre-made trays and stuff I could heat from frozen. Naturally, there had to be a small crock full of those tiny hot dogs with barbecue sauce. I know, Vienna sausages. Whatever. 

I noticed the Asian woman, Jennifer, standing by the window looking outside. She was shifting from hip to hip, and I thought she was dancing by herself, but the motions were too exaggerated, and I realized I knew that dance. She had to pee. 

The bathroom was free, which was a rarity, and I wondered if she knew where it was. I suppose she could also go outside. Because she wore a skirt, she could in theory go anywhere outside unnoticed once it got dark. My imagination took off as I watched her, and my cock swelled as I pictured her just peeing outside, on the lawn, next to the hydrangeas. 

She saw me staring. I’m sure I blushed hard and figured it was time to introduce myself. I went down the 5 stairs to the living room and over to her as I introduced myself. “Hi, I’m Tom.” I stuck out my hand. 

She took it. “I’m Jen.”

I felt awkward. Up close, she was lovely, with her cropped black hair and tanned skin. She had a heart-shaped face, a narrow nose, and full, pert lips with dark, almond-shaped eyes. The sunset behind her formed a nimbus around her head as though she were an angel sent to earth. She wasn’t tall  — five three  — with small breasts and a slim waist and wide hips. At just a hair under six feet, I was a full head taller. I caught myself staring at her again, and tried to recover as she asked, “Are you alright, Tom?”

“Yes, it was just you, with the sunset…” and I caught myself. What was I honestly going to say to her? Now, it was her turn to blush, and she looked down at her feet. “Do you need something to drink? Have you eaten?” I hoped I could recover. 

“I could use another beer.” 

“C’mon, there’s a cooler outside.” I led her out to the porch and to a cooler, where I pulled a Garage Beer and popped it open for her. I swigged the rest of mine down and grabbed another. Not the best idea, but my brain was misfiring like crazy. I nodded towards the lawn, and we walked down the stairs onto the grass as the sun did its last flare before disappearing beneath the water and bathing us in twilight. 

“I’m told you wrote a book.” I nodded. “The migrations and intermingling’s of the pre-Columbian Indigenous cultures in the American Southwest?” I arched my eyebrow at her. 

“You’re not one of those fans who want me to sign their book and then stalk me, are you?” She smiled at that. “Please say yes!” I tried to look like a little kid hoping for ice cream. 

I clapped my hands excitedly when she answered, “Yes,” and then she continued, “Except. I haven’t read your book and don’t have a copy, and I do not know where you live, other than New Mexico.”

“You’re a little new at this stalker thing, aren’t you? It’s OK, I’m new at being stalked, so it looks like we’ll get along fine.” I could see her pressing her knees together as she swiveled her hips. She was far more subtle than I was, and it made me realize I was approaching a point where I would have to go to the bathroom or leak. I wondered, rather, hoped that she would start peeing right then and there, and again she caught me in my reverie, staring at her, slack-jawed like an idiot. 

“Are you OK?” Now I hoped she didn’t notice the bulge beginning to form in my pants. 

“I’m fine, it’s just you, you’re… You’re beautiful.” I wanted to claw those words back as soon as they left my mouth, but I just followed with, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You’re not.” Her face flinched, and I saw her body spasm a little, and then she continued. “I think you’re handsome. Ed told me you’d be handsome and funny and that I should come to your party.”

“Ed, you mean old man Mackey?” She winced. 

“He hates being called that. He’s only 42. My age.”

“Wow, I assumed he was older. You, I assumed, were younger.”

“Most people do on both counts,” Jen chuckled, and I could see her legs clenching a little as she rolled her hips. Her brief episodes lasted only a second or two, and then she seemed normal. I felt a little bad, wondering if I was misunderstanding the situation. Perhaps she just had a nervous tic or some kind of muscular condition. “He seems all kinds of grumpy, but he’s nice once you get to know him. He speaks highly of you.”

“Me? That’s odd.” Despite attempts at spraying, the mosquitoes were out, so I motioned for us to walk again, and we climbed the stairs back to the deck. I could see the minions watching like vultures, waiting to see what happened. 

The first powerful urge to pee hit me, and I realized I was officially holding from here on out. It had to be a dream that she was too. I considered going to the bathroom like a normal person, but I didn’t want to walk away from this enchanting woman. 

“He read your book. He told me a little about it. It sounds interesting.”

“I may be a little biased, but it is.” She laughed at my stupid joke and reached out to squeeze my arm. Her knees pressed together, and her hips rocked. Again, I could see that she exhibited all the signs I recognized from scores of omorashi videos and descriptions in stories, and now I became convinced she was holding. “Are you alright, Jen? Do you need…? Can I show you where the bathroom is?”

Her face flushed a bright shade of crimson, and my heart stopped, afraid I had offended her. She hissed slightly, caught herself and then answered, “I saw the bathroom,” and nodded through the windows at the growing line for the bathroom inside. “I’ll wait, but I appreciate your thoughtfulness.” 

We stepped inside, and it thrilled me to see Jen stay with me as I went up the short stairs to the kitchen. We walked past the Minions, who were now a study in disinterest, and I smirked as I acknowledged them. Walt would be proud of me. We continued through the line for the bathroom, and experience told me it was going to be awhile if you got in line now. No one appeared desperate already, but these were all normal people who planned and went to the bathroom when they were supposed to. 

Jen joined me when I started tidying a little, and I thought of getting another beer, but figured I should have a water and poured myself a red solo cup full. I held it up to see if Jen wanted one, hoping she wanted one, but she held up her beer can, showing she was still working on that. I saw her grip the counter and squeeze her thighs and knees together, and then I was positive she was holding, becoming lightheaded at that realization and felt a fresh surge of blood to my prick. 

She grabbed a toothpick and stabbed at one of the tiny hot dogs covered in barbecue sauce. The second stab pierced one, and soon she was licking her lip to remove a stray drop after she put it in her mouth. She asked me about my book, and I realized I had a crush on her. I gave her the 5 minute Reader's Digest version, even though I would lecture for hours at the university and even got some of my jokes in, which she politely laughed at. I noticed her getting closer until her body was against me, with one hand holding me at the elbow where I could feel her squeeze slightly when her knees pressed against each other. The Minions noticed too.

“Your students must love you.” I could smell the barbecue sauce on her breath. 

“Oh sure,” I said, rolling my eyes, “all the way until the first grading period.”

“Do any of them try for…” she smiled to herself and blushed, “extra credit?”

“They try, but I’m not that professor.” As much as I liked the direction this was taking, I was more interested in learning about her. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that you are…” I paused dramatically, “Japanese.”

“That limb did not break, sir. Technically, I’m American, but my parents moved here from Japan in the late 70s.” We both looked at each other, smiled, and then I felt myself blush again and look away. I was feeling warm despite the chill of having to pee.

I checked, and the bathroom line was still going. I knew I would need to do something myself soon unless I wanted to risk a visible wet spot. I couldn’t imagine she hadn’t leaked by now, and I wondered what her endgame was. I figured I’d go for it.

“Omorashi or Omutsu?” She froze at those words, and her eyes widened as her mouth opened. I could see her tense a little, as if she were suppressing a leak, and then she glanced around. 

“Origami. You forgot that one.” She sighed. “Omorashi.” She pronounced it differently, and I realized she must also speak Japanese. “I should have worn a pull-up, but I hadn’t planned on anything.” She looked me in the eye for a moment, and I felt a twinge in my groin as I tried to suppress another leak, to no avail. “I intended to use the bathroom, but someone was in it, and then I held it for a while longer, and then you showed up. Now, I’m too…” she blushed and looked away. “It feels too good right now.”

Giddily, I admitted, “I’m holding too, and I have little time left.”

“Tell me about it. If I had known you knew, I might have done it while we were outside.” Her leg was pressing against me, and she was practically standing on my toes. I think...