Synopsis
I met my future wife pissing in the woods. Despite the title, this is not a `water sports' story. 

Pissing in the Woods
by obohobo

Warnings
Please take note!
The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only. 
MF Rom
If you are underage or offended by such material, or if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now. 
This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental. 

(C) obohobo 2011

The Meeting

"Hmmm, nice one Steve."

Startled, I looked to my right and saw Karen Fulger bopped down behind a bush and from what I could see between the leaves, she, like me, had stepped away from the main track to pee. "Heh, don't turn away, I want a good look at it, you're pretty well equipped for an old man," she giggled as she stood up and, pulling up her trousers, shuffled towards me. "Hmmm, maybe I'll have to see how it performs later." By then my stream had died to a dribble and still laughing, she gripped my prick and gave it a shake to free the last few drops. "Don't look so shocked, I'm not going to tell mother so you won't get your botty smacked."

Karen's infectious laugh had me grinning too. "I wouldn't want to be accused of baby-snatching."

The quipping about our ages began when we boarded the mini-bus at the start of our journey to Wales for a walking/camping holiday and the driver jokingly remarked, "I guess you two youngsters will want the back seats." Ruth, Karen's mother, quickly ruled that out and with a few incisive orders to her daughter, made sure we were well separated. The term `youngsters', a relative one when compared with the other ten in the group, none of whom were under forty-five, at twenty-nine and twenty-three, we were young.

At 5ft 7", only a little shorter than me, with shoulder length, mousy hair surrounding a roundish face and with tits that pushed her blouse out without them being prominent, she certainly wasn't a baby or even a teenager. Walking along the bridleway to catch up with the others I wondered if she had a boyfriend at home and if there was any likelihood of us having a relationship or even a one-night stand. Her comment, `I'll have to see how it performs later,' gave me to think there might be if we could find time to be alone and away from Ruth. However, I realised I wasn't much of a catch and thought she looked at me only because our ages were fairly close. I always considered myself as a `Mr. Average' in the looks department, a man who wouldn't stand out in a crowd and over the years had very few girlfriends and none that stood the test of time. I had a decent job as a project engineer in a design toolroom that didn't earn vast amounts of money but I found the work interesting and enjoyable and in fact continued my love of engineering by making accurate models of steam engines in my spare time, a hobby that kept me at home and partially accounted for my lack of girlfriends. Yet in the short time since meeting Karen in the woods, I felt an attraction to her I hadn't felt for any other girl.

Our local walking club organised the eight-day trip with Shirley and Bob Hardinge acting as leaders and I knew the others by sight if not by name. Ruth I'd met on a number of our Sunday walks and several times had been on the receiving end of her sharp tongue, which led to our mutual dislike. I'd met Karen on a few occasions before and away from her mother's control, showed her fun side but in her mother's presence appeared meek and submissive but underneath the veneer of conformity, I sensed a rebellious streak being held in check. The fun side came to the fore when she stuffed my prick inside my trousers and still grinning gave my arm a pull and said, "Come on, we'd better catch the others up before mother calls in the mountain rescue team."

The detour

I'd walked the day's route several times before and by prior arrangement with Shirley and Bob, decided to take a detour track that went over the top of Bryn Ysgol and volunteered to lead any others that wished to accompany me. The route would add six very strenuous miles to the trek and seeing the way they struggled over small inclines, I doubted many, if any, would take up the offer. "Do you fancy going over the top of that lump?" I asked Karen, pointing to the mountain to one side of us and hurriedly explained the difficulties and the sights we should see given the fine, breezy weather we enjoyed that day. 

Ruth scowled when we joined the party at the junction of the detour track but didn't get chance to say anything because Bob spoke to the group, "Steve plans to go over Bryn Ysgol and while I cannot stop him going alone, I would prefer at least one other accompany him." He went on to explain the steep path and scrambling needed on parts of the route and the extra miles involved before asking for volunteers. As I half expected, Karen volunteered, more I'm sure to get away from her mother than for the enjoyment of the walk.

"Oh no you don't young lady, you'll stay here with me, I'm not letting you go off alone with that man, there's no telling what he might do. It's not as though there will be other members of the group nearby to keep and eye on you."

Ruth carried on in this vein until Pete Mowles spoke, "Carol and I will be going on the path too so there's no problem Ruth." I saw Carol give her husband a horrified look but said nothing. I'd met them on many previous walks and considered them friends and knowing both were in their late fifties and slightly overweight, they would struggle on the steeper parts so their willingness to tackle the trek surprised me but, after our earlier meeting, I wanted to get to know Karen a little better and kept quiet too. 

The first part of the path meandered gently upwards through shady woodland alongside a gurgling stream. "This is very pleasant Pete, but I don't know how we'll get on when we get to the steep bit, whatever made you agree to go this way?" Carol asked her husband.

"Not to worry dear, when we see how steep it really is, we'll just have to turn back and leave these two to go on their own. I'm sure the walk back along this path will be equally pleasant as going this way."

"I wouldn't want to be in your trousers when Ruth gets hold of your balls when we return," Carol joked and then turned to me, "You won't be harming her will you Steve? No, I know you better than that."

Karen seemed far happier than I'd ever known her and we laughed and teased each other as we walked to the start of the climb and to the point where Carol decided she wasn't going any further. "We can go on up that zigzag track," I pointed the route to Karen as far as we could see it, "Or we can return with the others. It's up to you," I gave her the choice.

"Onwards and upwards, Everest here we come," full of life, Karen made the decision and we wished our partners a safe return and thanked them for escorting us to `the foothills'.

Having the mini-bus and trailer to transport our heavy gear from one site to the next, allowed us to carry relatively light rucksacks with food, rain gear and emergency supplies for the day, but even so, climbing in sunshine against a fresh breeze, they began to feel heavy. Karen didn't complain and I had the pleasure of holding her hand several times when she supposedly needed help to get over a boulder and again, for pleasure this time, when on open moorland. I even snatched a kiss when she almost slipped and I caught her in my arms. 

<where are u? u shud have come back with p n c> Karen giggled as she read the text message. "We've been missed," she grinned when she showed me the phone.

Still in good humour and in a daredevil, rebellious spirit, she replied, <in motel in Pontypridd making mad passionate love> Even if Ruth didn't get the lie straightaway, the others would soon explain that Pontypridd, a small town in the Rhonda Valley, lay over 100 miles to the south of us. She turned her phone off. A few minutes later, mine rang with a message from Bob Hardinge. <Where are you in reality Steve?>

<bout half mile from summit. Having short rest before the final steep bit. Wind strong, slow progress. Good views> Influenced by Karen's mood, I attached a photo from a ground level viewpoint of her looking up at the crag that provided a little shelter from the wind, posed with her arms outstretched and clutching at small handholds as though we were about the climb the rock face, and with her bottom thrust prominently in the foreground. 

"Mother'll hang you by the balls when we get back if Bob shows her and he probably will, and all the others too," Karen didn't stop me sending it though.

"At least they'll know exactly where we are because these rocks are a distinctive feature of the landscape."

We reached the top a little after one o'clock and sat close together to eat our food, sheltered from the wind in the lee of a cairn and chatted about ourselves until another group of walkers arrived but, after taking photographs, they carried on and not too long after, we cleared our stuff away and made our way downhill. 

A mile later we'd descended into the tree line. "I need to piss, don't you?" Suspecting Karen wished to see more of my prick, I agreed. When out of sight of the main path, Karen felt my crotch until I started to harden and then opened my flies and fished out my prick. "That feels nice," she remarked rubbing my foreskin back and forth, "Are you going to pee or not?" Using my prick as a hose, she gleefully sprayed the bushes and by the time she'd finish playing, it stood very firm and erect and elicited oohs and aahs from her but with the closeness of brambles and undergrowth, we couldn't do much more.

"Don't you need to go too? Do you need a hand to get your trousers down?" Her body language gave me the answer and hesitatingly I loosened her belt, unzipped her front and pulled her trousers down to her ankles and followed them with her knickers. With her hairy mound in front of my face, I couldn't resist giving it a kiss, a long kiss before being warned that she really did need to pee and my kissing made it difficult for her to hold back. Just in time I moved out of the way and watched as she arched her body and sent her stream clear of her clothing, something I'd never seen before.

By the time we rejoined the track we'd left earlier that morning and carried on to where it joined the road, we were both weary, Karen particularly so, and walked slowly hand-in-hand to the campsite. Ruth stood in the gateway. Instinctively Karen withdrew her hand but I took it again and passed my arm around her waist and together walked to our fate. Furiously Ruth demanded to know why we had taken so long, why we didn't return with the others, what we had done to make us so late, why Karen had taken up with a common workman when she had a respectable boyfriend. We didn't have a chance to answer and knowing we wouldn't be believed continued to our part of the site. "How about dinner at the camp café at six?" I whispered and she agreed. "Will you be okay with your mother in the tent?"

"Oh, she'll rant on for while yet but I need a change of clothes and a shower after someone made me climb Everest."

Separated but not for long

The others, having arrived hours earlier, had their tents erected and were either sitting at the picnic tables or had gone to get food. Thoughtfully, Pete had brought my pack from the trailer and put it on my site and came with his wife to help set it up. I'd borrowed a pneumatic tent intended for three people which gave more than enough room for me and my gear and, with a little effort with the hand pump, we soon had it habitable. After a quick shower I made my way to Karen's tent only to find it empty and sealed up. Surprised I went on to the café; she wasn't there either. Shirley, Bob, Pete and Carol sitting at a table outside beckoned me over. "She's gone with her mother and most of the others to a pub in the village for a meal," Carol informed me, "She didn't look very happy about it but her mother insisted." My face fell at her words any thought of food vanished. Carol noticed and touched my hand, "Don't let her get away from you Steve. If you want her, and you seemed to fit together so well this morning, fight for her and don't let her mother put you off. We received a sample of Ruth's vitriolic tongue this morning when we rejoined the group and the others heard it too and will probably give you any assistance they can." 

I spent the evening in their company, although I didn't contribute much to the conversation but they didn't expect it and before dark, returned to my tent, my mind going over the events of the day and in particular, the little I knew of Michael Strassinger, Karen's fiancé, if her mother's words were true. In Ruth's eyes, his respectability came from having wealth, a high paid job and a luxury car; in Karen's words, "He's an old git and rich and only thinks of more ways to make money and his position in the community. I'm sure he just wants a young girl at his side when he goes to functions to show off his wealth." I finally undressed to my underwear and crawled into my sleeping bag.

Zzzzzzppp! A little after midnight the sound of the flap of my tent being opened, wakened me from a light doze. Karen threw a sleeping bag through the opening, dove in after it and closed the flap. At that time of night in May, the air felt chill on bare skin and with only her nightclothes on, Karen showed a good amount of it, but we hugged and kissed and she cried a little until the cool air made her snuggle into her sleeping bag. Unfortunately different zip fasteners meant we couldn't join our two bags to make a double but we lay close together and I pulled a jacket over us for added warmth. Between kisses she explained that she'd tried to reason with her mother over dinner but even with support from the others, she failed and when, as usual on camping trips, in order to get a decent night's sleep, Ruth took a sleeping pill, Karen escaped not caring what would happen in the morning when her mother woke up.

Gradually we drifted off to sleep only to be wakened at a very early hour by the bright dawn sunshine lighting the tent and warming the interior. "I need to pee," Karen whispered. 

"So do I." 

"To the woods then."

"This is becoming a habit," she whispered and we laughed quietly. With no one else up or about, we slipped outside in our nightwear to a secluded spot in the trees and released our water, probably like hundreds of other campers had done, instead of walking the hundred yards to the toilet block. Of course, I had a hard on too, which Karen grabbed as soon as we settled in the tent again and started to massage it. In turn, I rubbed her tits and mound until her juices flowed and by mutual but unspoken agreement, I inserted my prick in her vagina and we fucked, quietly at first but later as our passion built, with more moans of pleasure. 

Zzzzzzzpp. The noise of the zip interrupted our pleasure before either of us climaxed. "You little whore! You slut! You shameless hussy! What will Michael do when he finds out you've been unfaithful and you can't deny it this time?" So the noisy rant went on and must have awakened all the other campers.

Ignoring my nakedness, I stood as tall as the tent would allow and pushed the woman out, "Get out, go back to your own tent, Karen's staying with me. She's more than old enough to decide who and what she wants to do and doesn't need a bullying mother to hold her back. Go away woman and leave us to love each other, now and when we return home." From the comments drifting in from outside, I knew the altercation had been heard by those in the nearby tents and we heard Bob's voice quietly suggesting Ruth leave us alone otherwise she would lose her daughter for ever.

The interruption cooled our ardour and we spent the next hour debating the situation. "What if she throws me out of the house, where will I live? I don't have a job so I can't afford a place of my own. Maybe the benefits office will help."

"No need for that dear, move in with me. I have a `granny flat' in my parents house that grandma used until she died some years ago and I took it over. It has a bedroom which doubles as the living area, small kitchen and bathroom. Only a single bed at the moment but there's room for a double with a bit of shuffling of the furniture. I may not earn as much as Michael but I can keep you until you find a job and Mum and Dad will be glad that I have at last found a woman."

Ruth solved our first problem, how to get Karen's clothes and stuff from her tent. A light tap on the canvas and Carol's voice came through, "I've brought your clothes Karen, or some of them, your mother has them outside her tent, laid out like for a car boot sale and other campers are gawking at them on their way to breakfast or the toilets. I'll put these outside your door and get the rest."

Home

For the remainder of the holiday we avoided Ruth as far as possible. Shirley gave us all a pep-talk before starting on the walk that day and asked everyone not to inflame the atmosphere and Ruth, Karen and I were asked to be especially careful so as not to spoil the holiday for others. Mrs. Josephine Bennett, the nearest to a friend Ruth had, provided a convenient and understanding contact with Ruth and on the Friday evening before we left for home, Jo organised a meeting between Karen and her mother to arrange for the collection of her stuff. I wasn't invited and indeed, Jo specifically asked that I keep away because of the way her mother felt about my seducing her daughter. The meeting lasted less than ten minutes but they agreed Karen could pick up her belongings on Sunday morning but I wasn't to enter the house, although we could use my van.

Mother took to Karen immediately and welcomed her into our home; dad showed a little less enthusiasm but nevertheless welcomed her too and by Sunday evening we had settled in. I made a note to get a double bed because the cramped space in my single and to my parents, we laughed and said it made us really close but in reality it wasn't comfortable. "We'll go into town on Saturday and order one from Bretts," I suggested but on Tuesday night or rather, early Wednesday morning, I rolled over and fell off the side and caught my head on the bedside table, opening a gash in my forehead. The noise in the main bathroom when we raided the medicine cabinet, woke mother and she insisted on taking me to A & E to have a couple of stitches put in to hold the wound together and that morning took Karen into town and bought a bed and asked for delivery that day.

The gash in my forehead, while not serious, looked nasty and the lump with the surrounding bruise gave rise to comments from the staff in the toolroom where I worked, and Cindy in the office when I took in an order, chided, "You've been together for only a few days and already you're fighting, will you live long enough to get her pregnant like me?" She pushed her bloated stomach forward to emphasise the point. With more banter we chatted while she processed the order and I asked if they'd appointed a replacement for her when she went on maternity leave. They hadn't but she offered me an application form for Karen and suggested she might come in for a couple of days of `work experience' to see if she could do the work and if she would fit in. She did and two weeks later Karen started work understudying Cindy until she went on six months leave. 

Later that week we received a letter from Michael formally terminating his association with Karen (his wording) and commenting on the way she had given up a good social position with a man earning £50,000 per year plus bonuses for a man who earned less than half that. It confirmed Karen's comments that he only thought in monetary terms.

All in all it worked out well for us and to think it started when the two of us decided to piss in the woods at the same time.

Finis
