Juliana knew fear from the calloused hands of her father or the brimstone of hell and eternal damnation. But she never knew the kind of fear that seduces you with its sweet, arousing embrace. Of that fear Juliana knew nothing.She was a bunch of nerves, ever since she returned to her room. When her lunch arrived, she could only nibble. Her afternoon nap was a series of shallow nods at best. At three-thirty she washed her hair and took a bath, hoping the hot water would untangle the knot in her stomach. Caressing her slick skin, she tried to imagine what would be waiting for her. Images of the two women last night, didn't help much to calm her down.Then her fingertips met the coarseness of regrown whiskers. She rose and stepped out of the bath, shivering from the cool air. She found a small lady shave and stood under a bright light to carefully remove the stubbles. Forcing her hand to be still, she felt her nervousness wane. She concentrated on finding every niche and whisker. Then she. They confessed to feeling revolted by the smell of the urinals, so pissing in the street with the rain providing the flush was more refreshing that a boggy old toilet.I on the other hand was more induced to slip back into the gents and revisit my girlhood encounter and savour the smells and sounds particular to this environment.In I went and into the first cubical I sat, leaving the door ajar, not caring if someone saw me and soon all the old emotions were flooding back and I slid forward on the toilet seat and slipped my hand between my legs and unashamedily started to caress my crotch. I was so arroused I could not pee and this in turn gave a mixture of pain and pleasure.Soon I had a number of fingers deeply inserted, thrusting and twisting my poor orifice, in an attempt to relive the orgasm from so long ago.I had to give up, it was not going to happen the drink had numbed my clitoris and the painful feeling to pee was becoming too overpowering, so I relaxed and soon I was providing.
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