Chapter 12

Mel set her hot chocolate on the nightstand without even sampling it. “I need to pee,” she said.

Unlike my personal bedroom upstairs, this bedroom didn’t have an en suite. I waved my hand vaguely in the direction of the door, expecting Mel to understand she had to go to the bathroom.

Mel dismounted from the bed. As I spectated her pert little bum on its journey out of the bedroom, I noticed she was walking strangely, as though trying to keep her legs together. After passing through the doorway, Mel turned round and looked at me. “Aren’t you coming to watch?” she asked.

After the fuss Mel had made that morning about me watching her peeing, even though I hadn’t really seen anything, that was the last thing I was expecting.

One of my semi-regular assignations was a big fan of water-sports. They didn’t do much for me but I accommodated some of the woman’s milder fetishes, such as peeing on each other in the shower, because of how turned-on it made her: she’d practically rape me afterwards.

Mel’s look hardened to a glare and her hands positioned themselves on her hips as she awaited my response.

Since refusal didn’t seem to be an option, I added my mug of hot chocolate to the nightstand and got up to follow Mel to the bathroom. As she turned to lead the way, I detected a hint of a smile on her face.

In the bathroom, Mel lowered herself onto the toilet seat and opened her legs wide, waiting expectantly. I took the hint and got on my knees between her legs. Using her fingers, Mel pulled her pussy lips wide apart so I had a bird’s-eye view of the tiny hole at the end of her urethra. I also had a good view inside her little pink pussy since there was no hymen obstructing the entrance.

Mel smirked, then her tiny hole blossomed open and a gush of palest yellow liquid squirted out and descended noisily into the toilet bowl. The pee had only the faintest ammonia smell and there was a lot of it, so at least I’d been keeping Mel well dehydrated. After the last little dribble ceased, Mel reached for some toilet paper.

“No, let me,” I said.

I got a washcloth, moistened it with warm water, then gently wiped Mel’s pussy clean with it. Then I patted her dry using a towel.

Mel flushed the toilet and washed her hands. I was mildly relieved that she had only wanted me to watch rather than actively participate in some way.

As Mel led the way back to the bedroom, I noticed she was still walking with a constricted gait. “You’re walking funny,” I observed. “Are you hurting?”

“No, but I feel kind of weird inside. It’s hard to describe. Sort of loose and squishy.”

“Let me know if it hurts, or you notice any blood.” Although what I’d do about it was a problem: I could hardly take her to a hospital.

Mel nodded as she turned through the bedroom doorway.

When we were back on the bed, I took a sip of my hot chocolate. It was still hot.

Mel mirrored me, taking a sip of hers. “This is nice, it’s just how I like it,” she said.

“When you made it earlier, I watched and learned,” I admitted.

“You’re very observant.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” I didn’t explain that being observant was a requisite of my chosen profession. I just wished I were as proficient at understanding the female psyche.

Mel sipped her hot chocolate for a while, then she asked, “Have you had many girls like me here?”

“I don’t know how to answer that,” I replied. “You’re unique so, no, I’ve never had a girl like you here before. But if you mean girls who are breathing then yes, I’ve had a few.”

“As young as me?” Mel pressed.

“No, you’re the first under eighteen.”

“Oh!” said Mel, in a tone laden with meaning that was totally opaque to me.

I was the one to interrupt the ensuing silence because I had a question of my own. “When you do stuff with boys, do you do anything else besides fucking and blowjobs?”