For several days after my sister accidently pissed on my, I find sleep to be very difficult to come by. The events keep running through my mind and I am overcome by the desire for more than just feeling my sister's pissed through panties on my face and jerking myself into them. I try over and over again to push those thoughts out of my mind, but they are being very stubborn and refusing to leave.
I can't exactly talk to my friends about such things, since there is no way they would understand any of this. No one I trust has ever expressed any interest in anything like this and I am not planning on being the butt of the joke for years to come from my closest friends. I don't have a girlfriend, so there is no female companion for me to confide in with the attempt of making something happen. I even try to watch porn involving piss to try to get it out of my system, but it only drives my desires further.
My sister is my only viable option, which I find to be a little unsettling. Jacking off into her panties on one occasion after getting overcome by pure desire is one thing, but to actually plan on doing something with her is crossing one hell of a line. Maybe it would be different if I found her body to be closer to what I desire in a woman, but even that would be pushing things. I like larger tits and hers are far too small for me. I haven't actually seen them, but I have seen her bras and know she is a B cup. Her ass is also a problem, because I like a little more cushion than she has. I have felt her scrawny ass on my legs far too often for me not to know and never had any interest in finding out any other way.
The most disturbing thing about this whole nightmare is she looks a lot like me. We are the same height, have the same blond hair and the same blue eyes. We have been mistaken for twins on numerous occasions and there is no way I could even start to pretend I am dealing with someone not related to me. At least we are both over the legal age, since she just turned 18 a few months ago. So at least I'm not dealing with the kind of problem that can get me arrested.
The very idea of broaching the subject with Brandy is not something I find pleasant in the least, but it is far better than the alternative of dealing with something internally and finding myself driven into madness. She continues to visit as often as before, but neither of us has mentioned anything about what happened that day. My guess is that she is very embarrassed and probably a little angry with me for causing it to happen.
I need to be direct with her, since anything else could result in abject failure and that will cost me far more than anything I can think of. I can't lose anymore sleep over this than I already have and need to find a release to make it go away. It is difficult to truly prepare for her responses, since I have never brought up anything like what I am about to discuss with her. I have no way of knowing how she will react and have little hope she will accept my request easily.
Brandy arrives at her usual time and I say, "Before we turn on the TV, I need to talk to you."
She has a worried look on her face as her blue eyes, my blue eyes, peak out from behind her blond bangs. She asks, "Talk about what, Max?"
My hands are shaking a little and there is no hiding it from her, which adds to her concern. I say, "Sit down, Brandy. This will be easier if you sit."
Her worried look increases and she says, "OK, Max." She sits on the couch and asks, "What's wrong? You're starting to scare me a little. Are you OK?" The concern in her voice increases with every word.
I don't join her on the couch as I am too nervous to sit. I take a deep breath and say, "I'm OK, well sort of..."
She cuts me off and asks, "What's wrong, Max? What does sort of mean?" The concern in her voice is matched by the look on her face.
I say, "Damn this is hard. Brandy, ever since you peed on me..."
She cuts me off again, and says, "That was your fault. I told you I had to pee, piss head." There is a little anger in her voice.
I say, "I know and I'm sorry. Now let me get this out." My hands continue to shake.
She says, "Fine. Go ahead and tell me. No, let me guess, you want to make fun of me." The anger is getting stronger.
I quickly shake my head and say, "No. I don't want to make fun of you. Now let me finish, please."
The anger is still there, but it is subsiding. "OK, Max. Just tell me what it is." The worry is starting to return to her face as the anger subsides.
The shaking in my hands gets a little stronger as I say, "When you peed on me I liked it."
She has a shocked look on her face as she says, "That is really gross."
I ignore the interruption and continue. "I didn't just like it. I can't sleep because I can't get the thought out of my mind. It just keeps going, over and over and over again. Damn thing won't stop."
She still looks shocked, but also a little confused. "What thing, Max? Damn it, just tell me."
I say, "Being pissed on by you."
There is a mixture of shock and revulsion that crosses her face. She says, "That's really gross, Max. If you think I'm going to piss my pants again, forget it. It's not going to happen."