My ex-girlfriend Emily had a penchant for wetting herself when she was excited. That’s what I was reminiscing about when we met again after a long absence.

She met me at the station after a long train journey, during which I was reliving the things we used to get up to. The way she always made an effort to dress up for our mutual pleasures. The naughty expression on her face when she was about to let go. It was as much as I could do to stop myself coming in my pants.

She was looking fantastic. New short haircut, a tight grey skirt to the knee, and a shiny blouse accentuating her full breasts.

As she slipped into the driver's seat, I glimpsed her stockings, which she wanted me to know she was wearing, but I had already noticed her suspender bumps. As we kissed again, her open wet mouth made my cock throb. We couldn't wait to get back to her house, so she drove along the country lanes at speed.

We were all over each other as soon as she closed the door behind us. We just about made it to the kitchen kissing passionately, as I ran my hands over her skirt, feeling the outline of her panties and the straps of her suspenders, anticipating the present to be unwrapped underneath. My cock was hard against her soft belly. I hitched up her tight skirt revealing her sheer black stocking tops.

“Did you dress yourself up especially for me?"

“Of course, but it’s not the only thing I’m going to do especially for you.”

She had that naughty expression on her face I knew so well and pulled me closer to her, grabbing my tight arse.

Her skirt rode up higher, revealing her rose pattern panties, setting her off beautifully with black stockings and kitten heels. Reaching my hand down over her silky crotch I found she was already wet through her panties in anticipation. I knew what was coming next.

Without bothering to undress her further, I pushed her up against the kitchen surface, pulled her panties to one side, and entered her in one swift thrust. Emily threw her head back with a groan, and as her knees began to buckle, she let go a stream of pee through her panties all down her stockings. She made no attempt to hold back (she must have been full, saving it for me), and with no hint of embarrassment, continued to spurt in little floods through her panties as I fucked her.

We were doing it in a puddle on the kitchen floor, her shiny black kitten heels sliding in her own pee. Her pretty panties and the hem of her skirt were soaked through. 

I flipped her round, and Emily offered me her upturned bottom, her skirt bunched up around her waist, and her rosy panties now see-through and clinging to her.

I held her firmly by the hips and she tilted her bottom up even more to allow me easy access. So much so, that with all the slippery wetness I actually slid straight into her puckered rose arsehole.

Emily groaned gutturally and I could feel all the hot spunk I had been saving for her, welling up in my balls. In the absence of my cock which was filling her arsehole, she jammed two fingers into her sopping wet cunt and flooded the floor with urine.

This did it for me. I couldn't hold back anymore and emptied my balls into her hot hole. Emily cried out as she completely lost control, wetting herself copiously, her knickers round her ankles, her arsehole spasming randomly.

Spent, we looked at each other somewhat shamefaced.

“You must think I’m such a dirty slut?” 

“Yes, MY dirty slut.”

“Let’s shower and go to bed.”

We did just that, and I noticed with a smile that she took a clean towel from the bathroom and laid it on the bed.