The Port-Hole Window

Rachelle woke up in the middle of a loud thunderstorm. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was 4am. There was only one thing on her mind, and that was the port-hole window of her neighbor’s bathroom. Both of them were high school students, neighbors, and classmates. However, Krysta was the popular type and refused to have anything to do with Rachelle. The two of them had never even talked. Rachelle had a secret though, and it involved what she was getting out of bed at this very second for.

Creeping down the stairs, Rachelle counted her steps. The third stair from the bottom she knew to creak, and her parents door was open. Carefully stepping over the bad stair, Rachelle made her way to the window of the living room, slid it open, and climbed through. The torrential rain stung her face, but her mind was set. She made her way across the wet, dark neighborhood in just her nightgown with no shoes on to reach her goal: Krysta’s house.

That popular bitch had been ignoring Rachelle’s advances for too long. Frustrated and upset, Rachelle had finally taken to watching her through her bedroom window. One night, she saw Krysta go into the bathroom, and this is where Rachelle’s story really begins. She never expected to be so attracted to a bodily function such as pissing. Much less from another girl! But she made her way around the outside of the house to that port-hole window the first time all those months ago and now she was addicted, in a way. Rachelle was a bit ashamed of her fetish, but it excited her far too much to be ignored. She longed to feel Krysta’s stream on her B-cup breasts. To feel it sliding down her belly eventually to her clit would be too good. She could not ignore it.

So here she was at the window again. Krysta was sleeping when Rachelle arrived, but she had a plan for that too. Picking up a wood chip from the surrounding gardens of Krysta’s house, Rachelle took a few steps back and slung it at the window. She ducked right beneath it so not to be seen. Krysta woke with a start and stared blankly into the darkness before turning on a lamp. Rachelle knew her efforts had not been in vain. Sure enough, Krysta pulled the covers back to reveal she wasn’t wearing anything but panties. Rachelle’s heartbeat quickened at the sight of her cute little A-cups with the tiny pink nipples nestled in soft, light brown areolas. Her long red hair paired with magnificent, electric blue eyes made Rachelle’s insides squirm with desire. Krysta slowly walked into the bathroom and turned the light on. This was Rachelle’s cue. In the pouring rain, she made her way through the mud to her port-hole into her fantasy. She already felt the familiar warmth spreading through her lower regions.

Krysta already had her panties down and was sitting on the toilet when Rachelle peered through. She had her legs spread open as if she knew someone was watching her. Krysta yawned, and began to pee. Rachelle’s right hand was already plunged into her panties, tickling her young, inexperienced clit. Her other hand was busy with the zipper. She moved her right hand, which was covered in juice, around to her virgin asshole. This was new territory to Rachelle, but she was so horny that it felt right. She slid one finger into her ass, the other hand busy with her pussy. Watching Krysta’s hot, dark stream made her feel like she had ever felt before, solo or otherwise. Krysta’s piss was so dark because Krysta was still battling anorexia. She was dehydrated, skinny, and just Rachelle’s type. The view of her ribs below her breasts paired with that liquid pouring from her pee-hole was making Rachelle’s insides spasm and contract.

Krysta finished her business and wiped herself clean with the paper next to her toilet with the pink fuzzy cover on it. Rachelle’s fingers were still busy in every hole she could find, and she had already come four times. Exhausted, but still frustrated and hot, Rachelle decided she would stop at six. Number five was so strong that it was hard to keep quiet. Rachelle was too late to stop a moan of ecstasy that escaped from her throat. She froze. Krysta froze. She approached the window, and Rachelle ducked once more. Holding her breath, she waited for the light in the bathroom to turn off before daring another look. Krysta was back in bed, and sound asleep by the look of it.

The next night was much the same, but it was not raining. Rachelle rather liked the rain. It made everything more slippery, plus it hid the smell of her girl juices in the event that she would be caught upon her return to her parents’ house. She made her way back to Krysta’s house, threw the wood chip, Krysta woke up and decided she had to pee once more since she was awake anyway (Rachelle had found this to be a foolproof method over the months she had been pleasuring herself to Krysta’s blissful ignorance), and went into the bathroom. Playing with her clit, Rachelle noticed that Krysta’s piss was darker than usual, and the pained expression on her face told her that it hurt to pee. Rachelle was a bit of a sadist when it came to this popular bitch, so this was alright by her. More exciting, even. Sliding two fingers into her ass this time, Rachelle came harder than she had in a very long time outside that port-hole window. The vision of Krysta’s hot urine steaming down her neck and chest was too much for her this time. She let out a soft scream, which Krysta of course heard.

By the time Krysta got over to the window to see what happened, there was nothing left of Rachelle but a pair of Plumbago 224 lips printed on the window.

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