THIS STORY IS A WORK OF FICTION INVOLVING INTERGENERATIONAL
RELATIONSHIPS AND URINATION. THE AUTHOR HAS NEVER PERFORMED AND
DOES NOT CONDONE THE ACTS PORTRAYED. IF THIS SORT OF STORY
BOTHERS YOU, THEN PLEASE DON'T READ IT.

My Little Neighbor Cathy, Part 3 (Mg+*, ped, cons, ws)
Some days you just know are going to be beautiful even before the
sun has risen over the horizon. I don't know why that is. The
birds seem to know. Their songs seem to have a certain tone on
beautiful mornings, as if they're trying to convey an avian
weather forecast to the rest of creation.

But on one particular Saturday morning, it wasn't the birds who
told me that it was going to be a great day. Instead, it was the
surprise presence of 7-year-old Cathy cuddled up next to me as I
stirred from sleep, her bare bottom snuggled up against my
equally bare cock, the old tee-shirt of mine she wore as a
nightshirt having ridden up to her belly.

Unfortunately, my bladder was screaming for release; and as
interesting as it might have been to just let loose right there
in the bed, I didn't want to ruin a perfectly good and very
expensive mattress. So I gently removed myself from the bed,
taking care not to wake my sleeping princess, and emptied my
aching bladder in the master bathroom.

When I came back, Cathy had rolled over onto her back, her arms
and legs spread out in that stick-figure style of sleeping
children, with her beautiful, hairless cunny on display for my
inspection. Gently, I knelt next to her on the bed and just
admired her for a few moments.

Cathy had the cutest little bald pussy I'd ever seen, and I've
seen my share. The perfect little-girl pussy is one that is just
prominent enough that it can be seen when you pull the front of
the child's panties out and look inside, and just big enough that
it doesn't disappear when the girl is standing up straight (and,
of course, naked). Cathy's pussy was about as perfect as they
come.

I reached out and gently stroked Cathy's belly, starting from her
belly button, passing over her noticeably full bladder, to her
hairless slit. Ever so gently, I ran my finger up and down from
her clitoris to her vagina until she started to stir, opened her
eyes, and then smiled at me as she woke up. Then she giggled,
reached for and grabbed my cock, and started squeezing and
stroking it with her tiny hand, more exploring my cock and balls
than jerking me off. Still, it only took a few minutes before I
shot my load all over the both of us.

I reached over and pulled Cathy toward me, then laid down on my
back with her on top of and facing me, just cuddling her and
stroking her back and butt. She seemed to be enjoying the
affection, but was getting increasingly squirmy. Of course. She'd
just woken up and had to pee.

I picked her up and carried her into the bathroom, put a few
towels down on the tiled floor, and laid down on them, Cathy
still on top of me, and continued to cuddle her.

“Why are we on the floor?” Cathy asked.

“I dunno,” I replied, “Why do you think?”

Cathy bit her lip and thought about it for a few moments, but
then only shrugged. Her squirming was getting desperate, though,
and reluctantly, she started to pull away from me.

“Where do you think you're going?” I asked.

“I have to go pee really bad,” she said.

“Oh, you can wait a while. I want to cuddle some more.”

Cathy's expression looked doubtful, but she stopped pulling away.
She lay on top of me for about another minute, continuing to
squirm and wiggle while I stroked her back and butt, and then she
started to pull away again.

“John,” she said, “I can't hold it any more.”

“It's okay, baby,” I said, “Just go ahead and pee right here.”

“Huh?” she said. “You mean, pee on you?”

“Sure,” I said. “Then we can take a bath together.”

“Okay...” she said, giggling, but she was still too tense to pee.

“Just relax,” I said, reaching up to her shoulders and gently
pulling her toward me, then rubbing her whole back from her
shoulders to her butt cheeks until she relaxed. Then I felt the
trickle of wetness starting to come from her, soaking my body
from my belly to the top of my thighs. She started to giggle
again as the floodgates opened and her stream became stronger.
Finally, when she was done, she kissed me right on the lips and
said, “John, I love you.”

We enjoyed a bath together, taking the opportunity to explore
each others' bodies, and then threw the pissy towels (along with
the tee-shirt she had on and her clothes from the day before,
when she'd wet herself in school) into the washer. We ate
breakfast naked as the sun rose, and then set out deciding what
to do for the day.

There was a water park I liked about an hour and a half away. It
was a favorite of mine because the unisex locker rooms were
cramped. There also were changing stalls with walls and doors
like toilet stalls along one wall, through which the enterprising
pervert could catch occasional glimpses through the gaps between
the doors and the walls.

Because there were too few stalls, however, many parents would
just change their kids in the common locker room area, sometimes
covering them with towels while getting them changed, and other
times not even bothering with the towels. Because the locker area
was so cramped, it was easy to sit on the benches and get
glimpses of bald pussies even when the parents did try to cover
their kids with towels.

I've also come across more than a few little girls in that locker
room who would notice my furtive glances, immediately pick up
that I was perving on them, shoot me a knowing smile and a wink,
and make a little game of it. They would “accidentally” open
their towels, or sometimes even let them drop to the floor, and
watch my reaction, all in view of their totally oblivious
parents. Often times I reciprocated, “carelessly” opening my
towel-covered legs while I changed so they could get a glimpse of
my manhood.

“How about we go to a water park?” I asked.

“Yaaaay!” Cathy said, as she jumped up and down and clapped her
hands. Then she paused and said, “But I don't have a bathing
suit.”

“No problem,” I said, “I have a bunch of them that my nieces use
when they come visit.” It was only partly a lie. I did have a
bunch of girls' bathing suits, but my sister and my two nieces
lived halfway across the country and rarely came to visit. Still,
the nieces were a good cover story for why a middle-aged
“widower” living by himself would have a selection of
little-girls' swimsuits.

We walked upstairs to the guest room and I pulled a plastic
storage bin from out of the closet. It was full of swimsuits,
sorted by size. I selected one of my favorites -- a yellow
two-piece -- and held it against Cathy's nude body.

“Think this will fit?” I asked.

“Let's see,” Cathy said, grabbing it from my hand. She started to
put on the bottoms, then stopped and grinned at me shyly. “Aren't
you going to turn around while I change?” She asked.

“Cathy,” I said, “We've been hanging around naked all morning.
What's the difference?” She seemed to consider that for a second
or two, and then said, “Okay,” and pulled up the suit bottoms.
They fit her perfectly. I could just barely make out the swell of
her little mound; and I knew that that once she got wet, I would
be able to see more than that through the thin fabric.

“The bottoms fit perfectly,” I said, and I helped her into the
top. She looked so cute that I just had to give her a hug. “Let's
put our clothes on over our suits so we don't have to change when
we get there,” I said. “Okay,” Cathy said, and ran downstairs to
get her clothes out of the dryer while I put on my own swimsuit
and clothes and got a couple of towels.

When we headed out to to the car, I was surprised to find
Jessina, the girl who'd tormented my little Cathy for wetting
herself the day before, sitting in a chair on my porch. She was
still wearing the same clothes she'd had on the day before, and
she looked like she hadn't slept very well.

“Well, good morning, Jessina,” I said. “What brings you here so
early in the morning?” She looked down at her feet for a moment,
then at me, and said,

“My mother came back from work late, and she told me to go out
and play.”

“Oh, okay,” I said. “Hey, I have an idea: Cathy and I are going
to a water park. Would you like to come? Assuming it's okay with
your mom, of course.” I felt the glare of Cathy's eyes boring a
hole in me, so I glanced and winked at her.

Jessina looked at me with a puzzled expression, not believing
that I would be inviting her along after what she'd done to Cathy
the day before.

“I don't know if she'll let me,” Jessina said, “And I don't have
a bathing suit.”

“Oh, don't worry about the bathing suit,” I said. “I can loan you
one of my nieces' suits. Just run home and ask your mother if
it's okay, or call her if you want.”

“Okay,” Jessina said, becoming more excited, “I'll call her.” I
handed her the phone. I took the opportunity to have a word with
Cathy.

“This is where we get even,” I told her. Cathy looked puzzled.
How could a trip to a water park be “getting even?”

Jessina was still talking to her mother. “Es el tio de mi amiga,”
she lied.

“You're not my uncle,” Cathy whispered.

“Shhhh,” I whispered. “She's trying to convince her mother to let
her come, and it sounds better to say I'm your uncle.”

“Okay mamita! I'll ask him!” Jessina said, jumping up and down
happily. ”My mother said I can go, but if we get back late, can
you keep me at your house overnight? She has to, uh, work again
tonight.”

“No problema,” I replied. “I have plenty of beds.” It never
ceases to amaze me how these people trust someone they've never
even met with their kids.

Jessina said a few more things to her mother in Spanish, then
started clapping her hands and jumping up and down as she gave me
the phone and said, “I can go!”

“Okay,” I replied, walking back into the house to the kitchen.
“Let's go pick out a suit for you. And have you eaten breakfast
yet?”

“No,” she said, “But let's just go. I'm not hungry, anyway.”

“Nonsense,” I said, reaching into the cabinet. “Have some cereal,
at least, okay?” I waved her to the kitchen table and poured her
a bowl of corn flakes, with plenty of milk. She sat down
reluctantly and started eating as I walked over to the
refrigerator, poured her a glass of cranberry-apple juice, and
set it in front of her. She thanked me and drank it right down.

“I was real thirsty from sitting outside,” she said. I suspected
she'd been out there since her mother got back some time in the
wee hours of the morning, probably with some guy she picked up on
the street downtown.

“Well, then have another glass,” I said as I poured her a refill.

Jessina quickly finished eating, and I sent her up the stairs
ahead of me so I could talk to Cathy.

“I want you to go use the bathroom and not drink too much
liquid,” I whispered to Cathy, “This way Jessina has to pee
before you do, and when she wets her pants you can call her a
baby like she called you one.” Cathy looked at me quizzically,
and then her eyes lit up as she started to understand my plan.
She gave me a little hug and then ran off to the bathroom.

I climbed the flight of stairs and walked into the bedroom.
Jessina had already found the open bin of swimsuits and was
looking through them for one that she liked. She looked at me and
held up a pink, flowered one, but it was much too small for her.
She looked like about a size 8 or 10, but the one she'd picked
out was a 4T.

“That one will never fit you,” I laughed as I sat on the edge of
the bed by the open bin.

“Look, they're in size order,” I said as I began to reach for the
size 8s, but then got a better idea.

“Do you know what size pants or panties you wear?” I asked.

“No,” she said, “How can I tell?”

“It's easy,” I said as I took her hand and gently pulled her
toward me. “We just have to look at the tag. Turn around”

She turned around to face away from me. I pulled her stretchy
pants down slightly, pulled the back of her panties away from
her, and looked inside to “look for the tag.” There was none.

“Hmmm,” I said, “There's no tag. Maybe you have them on
backwards,” I said as I gently spun her around to face me. I
started to pull the front of her panties away from her, but she
pushed my hand away.

“What's the matter?” I asked, looking up. Jessina was wearing a
shy smile, which was a relief. She wasn't freaked, just
embarrassed.

“I don't want you to see my coochie,” Jessina giggled.

“Oh, okay. Let's check inside your pants instead. You can leave
your panties on.”

“Okay,” she said as she slid her pants down, carefully holding
her panties up to prevent them from slipping down, as well. I
looked at the label. The pants were a size 8. I reached for the
size 12 swimsuits.

“Do you want a one-piece or a two-piece?” I asked.

“A two-piece,” she answered, removing her pants the rest of the
way. I picked out to suits, one a stunning black and almost
fluorescent pink design, and the other a rather plain blue one.
As I expected, she reached for the black and pink one. She put
her thumbs in the waistband of her panties as if she were about
to pull them down, then looked up at me and paused.

“You have to turn around,” she said.

“Oh, okay,” I said, and turned my back to her. “Let me know when
you have it on so I can see if it fits you.”

“Okay,” she said, “Just a minute.” After a few seconds she told
me it was okay for me to look, and I turned around.

“Ta-daaaa!” Jessina said as she modeled the suit. Jessina was in
the very early stages of puberty. Her hips were already starting
to widen, and her nipples were already prominently budding and
were visible through the swimsuit top.

“Let me see how it fits,” I said, slipping the tip of my finger
between the waistband and her belly. It looked snug at first
glance, but was actually very loose. I knew that once it got wet,
she'd be spending a lot of time pulling it up.

“I think it's a little loose,” I said. “Maybe you should try the
other one. This one looks like it's going to fall down.”

“No it won't!” she protested. “It fits perfect!”

“Okay, okay,” I said. “Just put your pants and shirt back on, and
give me your panties so you can change back into them for the
trip home.”

Jessina slipped her clothes back on and handed me her ragged
panties, and I took the smiling child's hand in mine as we walked
down the hallway to the stairs. She paused slightly as we passed
the hallway bathroom, but then continued to walk with me down the
stairs.

“Well,” Cathy said from the sofa, “It's about time!”

“Sorry,” Jessina said, smiling happily. “We had to pick out a
swimsuit for me.”

“Whatever,” Cathy said excitedly. “Let's go!”

“Did you do what I asked you to?” I asked.

“Yep!” Cathy said, smiling a mischievous grin.

“Okay,” I said. “Let's go!”

When we got in the car I said, “Geez, it's like an oven in here.
Let's stop for something to drink on the way.” We stopped at 7-11
where I bought all of us “Big Gulp” drinks, then hopped on one of
the “scenic routes” – old Depression-era highways that still
meander throughout New England, most of the now-decrepit rest
stations now closed and boarded up.

“Don't drink that all at once,” I told Jessina as we passed what
I knew would be the last working rest area for many miles. “I
don't want you wetting your pants in my car.”

“I don't pee my pants!” she said indignantly. “I'm not a baby
like...”

“Like whom?” I asked.

“Never mind,” Jessina said. “But anyway, I can hold my pee all
day!” she said, and then started sucking the drink down until all
that was left was the ice, just to prove her bladder prowess to
me.

I'd had Jessina sit in the front “because she was older.” The two
girls spent the next half hour or so of the trip babbling back
and forth as girls do. But little by little, Jessina became
quieter and more fidgety. I looked over at her and asked if
everything was okay, and she nodded her head.

“I'm okay,” she said. “How much longer until we get there?”

“Oh, about another hour or so,” I said. “But that's okay. They
don't even open until 11:30 this early in the season.”

“Oh, okay,” Jessina said softly, looking out the window. She was
sitting slightly hunched forward with her legs crossed, moving
both her legs side-to-side and tapping her foot nervously.

“Are you hyper today?” I asked, looking over at Jessina. “You
can't seem to sit still.”

“No. I mean, um, yeah. I always get hyper on long car trips.” She
didn't want to admit that she had to pee.

I looked up ahead and saw brake lights starting to come on.

“Shit,” I said, while secretly jumping for joy inside.

“What's the matter?” Cathy asked from the back seat.

“There's some traffic up ahead. Looks like maybe there was an
accident.”

I glanced over at Jessina. She'd looked uncomfortable before, but
now she looked horrified. There was no way she'd be able to hold
her pee, she must have been thinking. Cathy must have noticed,
too, because she was wearing a shit-eating grin that I caught in
the rear-view mirror.

I slowed the car down as the traffic around me slowed, and
eventually stopped. I looked over at Jessina. She had her hand
pressed into her crotch and had removed her seat belt.

“Jessina, sweetie, are you okay?”

“Yes,” she lied. Stubborn kid.

We sat there for a few more minutes, Jessina now rocking back and
forth and opening and closing her legs, with her hand pressed to
her crotch. I was starting to feel sorry for her. It was obvious
that she was in pain. I didn't want to hurt her, only to
embarrass her to get even for her making fun of my Cathy. I
decided to give her a break.

“I sure hope this traffic starts to move,” I said. “I'm going to
have to pee soon.” And it wasn't a lie. I wasn't anywhere near
desperate yet, but the soft drink I'd had was starting to make
it's way to my bladder and announce itself.

“If you girls have to go, don't hold it until it hurts,” I
continued. “That's not good for you. You can pee into the soda
cups.” I glanced at Cathy in the rear-view mirror, and she was
smiling.

“How can a girl pee into a cup?” Jessina cried. “We have no
dicks!”

“It's no big deal,” I said. “You can just pull down your pants,
and I'll hold the cup to catch your pee.”

“But then you'd have to see my coochie!” She whined.

“Oh, I've seen coochies before,” I said. “It's no big deal. But
actually, I was more concerned about Cathy, because you told me
that you can hold your pee all day, didn't you?”

“Yeah...” Jessina said weakly.

I looked over at Jessina. She was obviously struggling to hold
her urine, and she was obviously in pain. This had gone far
enough.

“Jessina,” I said.

“What?” she answered.

“Tell me the truth: Do you have to pee?” I asked, looking
directly into her eyes. She looked down into her lap, still
pressing her hands between her legs and squirming desperately.

“Yes,” she almost whispered, after a few moments.

“Okay, honey. That's all right. It happens to everyone – even
grown-ups.” She looked up at me with tears in her eyes.

“I have to go real bad,” she whined.

“Okay, pull down your pants and your bathing suit bottoms,” I
said as I hit the switch to roll up the heavily-tinted windows
and turned on the A/C. She looked at her lap again, and then at
me.

“But... I'm not allowed to let boys see my coochie,” she said.
“My mother will get mad, and she won't let me see you anymore.”

“Don't worry,” I said. “I won't tell, and neither will Cathy.” I
glanced at Cathy in the rear-view mirror, and her expression had
changed to one of genuine concern for Jessina.

“Listen to him,” Cathy said. “Otherwise you'll wet your pants
like I did. And I won't tell if you let John help you. I
promise.” Cathy crossed her heart for emphasis.

Jessina stared into her lap for a few more moments, then she
started to cry, slipped her thumb in her waistband, and pulled
her pants and her panties down together. I couldn't see her pussy
because she was facing the front of the car and still holding her
legs tightly together.

“Hurry,” she said. “It's gonna come out soon!”

“Okay, sweetie,” I said, “Turn and face me, and open your legs.”
She turned on the bucket seat and faced me, spreading her legs
slightly. I gently pushed her knees apart and positioned the cup
between her legs.

“Okay,” I said, “Go ahead and pee.”

Jessina struggled to relax enough to pee, but she couldn't.

“It won't come out!” she said, sobbing.

“Let me help,” Cathy said, and then she leaned up between the two
front seats and reached for Jessina's privates.”

“What are you doing?” Jessina asked.

“Sometimes when someone tickles your pee hole, it makes the pee
come out,” Cathy said as she started tickling Jessina's clitoris
and urethra. I took the opportunity to gaze at Jessina's pussy.
She was close to puberty, and her little snatch had the
beginnings of the fine, almost-invisible, downy hair that little
girls get before the real stuff starts to come in.

After a few moments, Jessina exhaled audibly and said, “I think
it's coming.” And she was right. Starting as a tiny trickle, her
urine flow grew until the force almost knocked the flimsy,
plastic cup out of my hand.

“Wow,” I said, before she was even done. “That's a whole lot of
pee for a little girl.”

Jessina giggled a bit, and her flow continued until the Big Gulp
cup was almost half full. When she was done, she breathed a sigh
of relief and said, “I need a tissue to wipe myself.”

I pulled the cup away, rolled down the window, and dumped out the
cup.

“I don't have any tissues,” I said as I rolled the window back
up. “Lust leave your pants down for a few minutes until your
coochie dries,” I said. Jessina giggled.

“What's so funny?” I asked.

“I think you like looking at girls' coochies,” she said.

“Why would you think that?” I asked.

“Because all the boys at school do,” she replied, “and you're a
boy.”

“How do you know what the boys at school like?” I asked.

“You promise not to tell?”

“I promise.”

“Well,” Jessina said, starting to blush, “Sometimes they pay me
to see mine,” she said.

“They pay you?” I asked.

“Yep,” she said. “They give me their snack money if I let them
see my coochie.”

“Ah, I see,” I said. “But didn't your mom tell you not to let
boys see your coochie?”

“Uh-huh,” she said, and looked down at her bare coochie for a few
moments.

“Once the teacher caught me showing Marty White my coochie, and
told mommy,” Jessina said softly, “And mommy beat my ass. But she
doesn't give me snack money, and I have to get it somewhere, so
now I'm just more careful so I don't get caught when I show the
boys my coochie.” Cathy reached over and stroked Jessina's
shoulder, comforting her.

“Tell you what,” I said, reaching over and gently stroking
Jessina's cheek. “School's almost over, but I'll give you snack
money. Just stop by my house when you need it.”

“Really?” she said, looking at me with an expression of wonder.
“You would do that for me?”

“Sure,” I said. “I wouldn't want you to go hungry.”

Jessina cried softly to herself for a moment, then said, “Thank
you, John. You're the nicest man I ever met.”

My bladder was starting to scream at me, so I reached for the
empty cup and said, “Well, girls, I have to pee now.” I opened up
my pants, hung my now-limp dick into the cup (Jessina's telling
me about her mother's not giving her any snack money had caused
it to deflate), and peed heartily into the cup. Both girls
watched with interest as I emptied my aching bladder.

“I never watched a boy pee before,” Jessina said.

“I have,” Cathy said proudly.

“Now both of you have,” I said as I shook the last few drops of
pee out. I put my dick away, then rolled down the window and
emptied the cup again.

“Do you have to pee now?” I asked Cathy, rolling the window back
up.

“No,” she said, disappointment in her voice. “I went before we
left the house. But when I have to, then you can help me, too!”

That didn't become necessary, however, because the traffic
finally started to move as the accident was cleared, and we
arrived at the water park shortly after it opened – in plenty of
time for us to enjoy a whole day of wet fun of another sort. I
also enjoyed watching Cathy's cunny through the thin fabric of
her wet swimsuit, and Jessina's as her too-loose swimsuit bottoms
kept slipping down her hips once they got wet – eliciting
approving smiles from the other pervs at the water park.

When we were done, we all changed together in one of the “family”
changing stalls, Jessina's modesty now completely gone. In fact,
she seemed positively proud as she stood in front of me
completely naked and asked me to help her get dried off.

When we got back home, all three of us showered together. The
water in the water park had been heavily chlorinated, and we
spent almost an hour making sure we got all that nasty chlorine
out of each other's nooks and crannies. Then we went to bed
together, too exhausted to do anything except enjoy the warmth of
each others' naked bodies as we drifted off to sleep.

--- END OF PART THREE ---
