The World is Her Toilet Ch. 01

Betty and Edward had mutual friends they were meeting at a bar downtown, and it seemed like a good idea to share a ride. But Betty was growing frustrated. Edward had circled the same few city blocks five times already, vainly searching for free street parking. Betty felt the pressure building in her bladder, and didn't want to waste anymore time. "Look," Betty told Edward as she squirmed in the passenger seat, "you better find a place to park soon. Just park in that lot over there. I'll pay for it if that's the problem."

"OK, fine. Relax!" muttered Edward. He drove into the parking structure and slowly circled the first level. No spots were open. He moved up to the second level, deliberately inspecting each aisle for an open parking spot. Nothing.

"God damn it, Ed, just go up a few levels and park. You don't get a prize for finding the closest spot!" Betty grimaced, took a deep breath, and clenched her fists. Edward sighed and zipped up the parking structure's ramps to the fifth floor, where there were plenty of open spots. Slowing down, Edward looked left, then right, as if debating where, exactly, he wanted to park. After a few seconds of indecision, he finally directed the car into a spot. Betty unbuckled her seatbelt and prepared to leap out of her seat. Before Betty could exit, Edward reversed, centered the vehicle between the lines, and pulled forward again.

Betty threw the passenger door open and clambered out of the vehicle, pointedly slamming the passenger door once she was free. "Oh my GOD, I have to pee!"

"We're only a few blocks from the bar," Edward said quietly. "Can you make it?"

Could she make it? Probably, she thought, if she absolutely had to, or the stakes were high. Say, a million dollars was on the line. But, the situation was nothing like that now. Besides, Betty got a thrill from peeing in unusual places. Usually that meant in an alley, in the swimming pool, or in the woods while camping. Sometimes, though, she went over the line of decency.

Peeing in a parking lot wasn't that extreme for Betty, but it would probably make the uptight Edward uncomfortable. That, she admitted, gave her a thrill too. "I don't think I can make it. I'm just going to go here, if you don't mind." Before Edward could object, she pulled her tight black pants down past her knees. Edward froze, as though he couldn't quite process what he was happening. Betty tugged at her lacy black panties, but didn't pull them down. "Are you going to watch?" she asked indignantly, though really she didn't mind if he did.

Edward unfroze as his mind finally caught up to reality "Oh, right. I won't look," Edward said as he turned his back and stepped aside. If he had turned around, he'd have seen Betty pull down her panties and squat down. In this position, between her creamy, shapely legs, he'd have clearly seen her pussy, topped by a neatly maintained strip of black hair. She was proud of her body, and deservedly so. She was around 5'7", and pleasingly curvy, like an old-fashioned pinup model.

"Whatever," said Betty, as she finally released the fluid pent up in her bladder. A clear stream of piss shot out between her legs, striking the concrete floor with violence. It thundered down for half a minute, then ebbed to a trickle before finally ceasing. Betty fished a tissue from her purse, and wiped. She looked around for a second before deciding to discard the soiled tissue beneath Edward's car. As she pulled up her pants, she looked at the foamy river of pee snaking across the ground and smiled.

Edward stood with his mouth hanging slightly open. He seemed to be breathing heavily. "Uh, I hope you feel better."

"You have no idea," Betty sighed. "If you take that long to find a spot next time, I might just piss all over your car." She said it jokingly, but in the back of her head, she meant every word.

The bar everyone met up at was an absolute dive. It's heyday, if such a time ever existed, was at least 25 years in the past. If anything nice could be said about the place, it was that the drinks were cheap and the bartender mixed them strong.

Toward the end of the night, Betty excused herself to use the ladies' room. "Oh my god, the bathroom here is so disgusting!" her friend Karen squealed. Naomi nodded in agreement.

"I hope it's not too awful. I'm dying. I'll piss in the sink if I have to!" She said it as a joke, but she would have no problem doing it.

Betty went to the back of the bar, down a narrow hallway, and turned left, where the ladies' room was located. She opened the door and found the other women had not been exaggerating. The toilet was stopped, and the floor was a swamp of piss and toilet paper, and it looked like someone had already beat her to pissing in the sink. The stench was foul. Betty frowned at the scene before her. There was a drain in the middle of the floor. Adding to the mess on the floor would have to do. Then, something else caught her eye.

If she continued down the hall, there was another small lounge attached to the bar. It was roped off tonight - either the crowd wasn't big enough to justify opening it tonight, or it was some kind of VIP room. Either way, it was empty now, and that presented Betty with an opportunity. She shut the door to the bathroom, walked down the hall, and ducked under the rope.

The room she found herself in as decorated like a Moroccan lounge. Low couches and large overstuffed pillows ringed the room. The floor was carpeted with a thick red shag, and the walls covered by velvety drapes. A few decades of spilled drinks, cigarette burns, and neglect had taken a toll on this room, but it still maintained an echo of its splendor. And tonight, it would serve as Betty's toilet.

She removed her pants, shoes, and underwear, setting them aside. Where should she start? After a quick survey of the room, she had a plan.

She walked up to one of the couches, adjusted her stance, and sent a stream raining down onto the thirsty fabric. Learning to pee standing up had been tricky when she first tried it a few years ago but she was glad to have done it. Being able to stand and pee allowed her to have so much fun! She swung her hips back and forth, directing the stream to and fro to spread the damage, then cut it off. She sent a short arc at the wall, leaving a streak of pee soaked into the drapery. She next unleashed an angry torrent of piss into the carpet for a few seconds. One spot in the rug had been drenched, but Betty realized this room had likely endured worse over the years. She was determined to leave her mark, and she knew exactly how to do it.

Hanging on one of the walls was a stylized painting of a man in front of this very bar. Maybe he was the owner? Betty pulled it down and placed it on the floor between her feet. A shudder of pleasure rippled through her body as she sent a golden cascade onto the painting. A sound like fabric tearing filled her ears as her pee struck the defenseless canvas. Would someone hear what she was doing? No, she decided, the music in the bar was too loud. After what felt like an eternity, Betty's relief was complete.

She returned the thoroughly defiled painting to the wall. The colors were running, and drops of pee were falling into the sofa below. Satisfied with her work, Betty dressed and rejoined her friends.

"You girls weren't kidding about the bathroom. What a pit!" she said. "Still, I had fun tonight. I think we should come back again."

The others agreed that a return trip should be scheduled, and they parted for the evening. As she walked back to the car with Edward, Betty quivered with anticipation.