The Paralegal’s Secret: A Coworker’s Unusual Fascination

I still recall the moment when my fascination with, and sexual arousal from, a woman peeing first began. It’s a memory that’s etched in my mind like a vivid dream. Just three weeks ago, I was introduced to this peculiar fascination, and it’s still foreign to me, like a secret that I’m hesitant to share.

As an attorney working for a large international firm in San Francisco, I’m no stranger to long hours at the office. But tonight, I’ve set aside some time to get my thoughts down on paper, to process the events that have unfolded, and to make sense of the feelings that have been swirling inside me.

It all started when I was presented with some printouts by Mark, our IT manager. He told me that Stacey, a litigation paralegal, had been accessing adult sites on her work computer, specifically ones that dealt with pee and public urination. I was shocked, not just because of the nature of the sites, but also because it was Stacey, a popular and talented paralegal, who was involved.

I called Stacey into my office, and as she sat down, I handed her the printouts. Her eyes widened in shock, and I could see the color draining from her face. “What’s this?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“You tell me,” I replied, trying to keep my tone firm but detached.

At first, Stacey denied any wrongdoing, but I could sense her embarrassment and guilt. I pressed her for the truth, and eventually, she broke down and confessed to accessing the sites. I suspended her without pay for the rest of the week, pending a meeting with her on Monday morning to discuss her future with the firm.

But as I sat at my desk, trying to process the situation, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I was being unfair to Stacey. I knew she was a valuable member of our team, and I didn’t want to lose her. That’s when I decided to seek advice from John Hopper, my mentor and a close friend.

John is a renowned ladies’ man, with a reputation for being open and honest about his desires. He’s always been a bit of a free spirit, and I admire his confidence and willingness to take risks. When I showed him the printouts, he listened intently, his expression a mix of shock and curiosity.

“Is she good at her job?” John asked, his voice low and measured.

“You know she is,” I replied, feeling a sense of loyalty towards Stacey.

“Do you want to jettison a valuable asset just because she has a weird, fucked-up sexual fetish?” John asked, his words piercing through my reservations.

I felt a surge of arousal at the thought of Stacey’s confession, and I couldn’t help but wonder if John’s advice was not just about saving Stacey’s job, but also about exploring my own desires.

John reassured me that he would take care of the situation, and I left it in his hands. Little did I know that his plan would involve a video confession, one that would change everything, and awaken a part of me that I never thought existed.

As I recall that fateful day, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and curiosity. Stacey had been caught accessing those…unsettling websites, and I found myself drawn to her reaction. “Did it excite you to see girls pissing wherever they wanted on those sites?” I asked, my voice low and deliberate.

Stacey looked up, her eyes meeting mine, and nodded slowly.

“How full is your bladder?” I pressed on, my curiosity getting the better of me.

She hesitated for a few beats before responding, “Full.”

“Do you want to release that pressure?” I asked, my voice firm but gentle.

She nodded, her eyes never leaving mine, and I could see the desire written all over her face.

“I want to pee, yes,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Take off your shorts,” I instructed, my eyes locked on hers, and she slowly began to comply.

Her hands trembled as she undid the buttons on her jeans, and I could feel my own desire rising to the surface. She stood, wiggling out of her shorts, and I caught a glimpse of her bare skin before she sat back down, her legs pressed together.

“Open your legs,” I said, my voice low and husky, and she slowly obeyed, giving me a full view of her pussy lips.

“Scoot forward and get your hips out so I can see your snatch,” I continued, my eyes drinking in the sight before me.

She breathed harder now, her eyes focused intently on some point beyond the camera, and I could see her nipples pushing against the fabric of her blouse. “Do you have to piss?” she whispered, her eyes closed.

“Yes,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible.

“Touch your clit,” I instructed, my voice firm, and she hesitated for a moment before reaching down between her legs.

Her fingers moved rhythmically over her clit, and I could feel my own desire building. “You’re going to pee on camera and show me that you’re a piss slut,” I said, my voice dripping with seduction.

“Yes, sir,” she groaned, her eyes still closed.

She continued to rub her clit, her fingers moving faster and faster, and I could feel my own erection growing. “Piss for me,” I said, my voice low and husky, and she finally gave in, a trickle of pee forming at the top of her pussy before growing into a full stream.

I watched, transfixed, as she moaned and pulled at her pussy, the stream of pee arching out of her body like a fountain. “It looks like she’s cumming,” I thought to myself, my own desire reaching a fever pitch.

She continued to pee, the stream growing stronger and stronger, until finally it subsided, leaving behind a huge puddle of piss. She opened her eyes, blinking a few times, and looked directly at the camera.

I almost came right then and there, my cock throbbing in my pants. “Good, girl,” John said on camera, his voice dripping with approval. “You agree that you need more disciplining to make up for breaching the company policy, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Stacey answered, her voice barely above a whisper, and the scene abruptly ended.

The next scene showed Stacey standing on the conference table, her white suit looking pristine but her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Have you ever been in her before?” John asked off-camera, and she smiled, her eyes glinting with amusement.

“Of course,” she said, her voice confident. “Have you ever pissed in here before?” she added, her gaze meeting John’s.

“Of course not,” she replied, a sly smile spreading across her face. “Have you thought about peeing in here before?” John asked, his voice low and husky.

“Not before today,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, and John’s eyes locked onto hers.

“Do you have to pee?” he asked, his voice firm but gentle, and she nodded, her eyes never leaving his.

“Get on the table,” he instructed, his voice low and husky, and she slowly stood, her high heels clicking on the polished wood.

She walked to the center of the table, her eyes locked on John’s, and then she squatted down, her ass inches from the polished mahogany. “You want me to squirt on this table?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I want you to spray your piss all over this table and enjoy it,” John replied, his voice firm but gentle.

She smiled, her eyes glinting with mischief, and then she reached down between her legs, her hand moving rhythmically over her pussy. “I have to pee soooo bad,” she purred, her voice low and husky.

“Are you going to take off your pants?” John asked, his voice low and husky, and she pouted for a moment before responding.

“Do I have to?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, and John shook his head.

“Good,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, and then she began to rub her pussy, her hand moving rhythmically over her skin.

“I hope I don’t make a mess,” she whispered, her eyes locked on her hand, and John’s eyes locked onto hers.

“I’m going to love the feeling of my hot pee against my body,” she whispered, her voice low and husky, and John’s eyes never left hers.

She smiled, her eyes glinting with mischief, and then she stood up, her pants stained with piss. “This is so naughty,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, and John’s eyes locked onto hers.

She looked up at the camera, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and then she began to pee, a small trickle forming at the top of her pants before growing into a full stream. “It’s soooo warm,” she breathed, her voice low and husky, and John’s eyes never left hers.

She continued to pee, the stream growing stronger and stronger, until finally it subsided, leaving behind a huge puddle of piss. She stood up, her pants soaked and stained, and then she pulled them off, revealing her soaked panties.

“Lie down, piss slut,” John said, his voice firm but gentle, and she slowly lay down on the conference table, her legs spread wide.

“Oh, God,” she moaned, her hand moving rhythmically over her pussy, and John’s eyes locked onto hers. “Take off your panties,” he instructed, his voice low and husky, and she slowly pulled them off, revealing her moist skin.

With that, the screen went dark, and the clip ended, leaving me breathless and wanting more.

As I watched that video, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement and curiosity. Stacey’s reaction to the websites, her desire to pee, and her willingness to indulge in her desires on camera had me completely enthralled.

I knew that I had to stay away from her, at least for now, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wanted to see more. I wanted to know what she was like when she was alone, when she was comfortable enough to indulge in her desires without an audience.

But for now, I was content to just watch and observe, my mind racing with the possibilities. And as I looked at the screen, now dark and still, I couldn’t help but wonder what other secrets Stacey might be hiding.

My mind was consumed by a burning desire for answers. I needed to know if he had made Stacey endure another humiliating episode of being forced to hold her urine in our office, or if this was a new development that extended beyond our workplace.

I made a mental note to dig deeper and uncover the truth as soon as possible. My determination was unwavering, and I was confident that I would soon get the information I sought.

As I pondered this incident, a strange twist of fate had turned me into an unlikely admirer of women who derived pleasure from holding their urine, and those who found arousal in the act of urination itself.

I couldn’t shake off the memory of this new development, and my mind kept wandering back to my wife. I had recently confessed my curiosity about this topic to her, driven by a desperate longing to experience something similar with her.

Her response had caught me off guard, and I couldn’t wait to put my thoughts down on paper when I had the time.

“I’ve always found it fascinating,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “The way the body responds, the sensations, it’s all so unique.”

“You’ve never…?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“Not exactly,” she replied, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “But I’ve always been intrigued by the idea.”