“Drink more water” was a stupid New Year’s resolution.  A really dumb one.  Missy should’ve aimed higher, like “go platinum” or “try not to get blackout drunk so much,” but she figured being hydrated was beneficial enough without hurting her lifestyle.  To be honest, she was hungover as hell when asked, so it seemed like a smart thing to say at the time.  She had no intentions of sticking with it after blurting it out, but her bandmate had other plans.

Axe thought it was a great idea, and wanted to join and support her.  Without telling her, he got their manager to pick up these customized, comically huge, fancy metal tumblers.  He hyped them up, saying they were the best on the market and kept drinks cold for like three days.  She would admit, hers did look sick.  The one she ended up with was this nice glittery purple that faded to black and had the band’s logo on the side.  It kept her ice from melting as advertised, but she felt like she was carrying a keg.  She decided she’d lug it around for at least a couple of weeks since he went through the trouble of getting it for her.

That thing mentioned earlier about not hurting her lifestyle?  Within days, she learned that wasn’t the case.  The drinking water part wasn’t the difficult part.  She loved how cold and crisp it stayed and found herself always chugging it down.  The issue was that the constant flood of H2O flowing through her sent her to the bathroom what felt like every fifteen minutes.  This was fine when she was at home, but proved to be a huge pain when it was time for her to get her ass to the studio to record.

The walk from the recording booth to the studio’s restrooms was so long, she felt like by the time she walked back and picked up her bass, she was on the verge of pissing her pants again.  It was frustrating.  It was embarrassing.  The rest of Clit Leech snickered every time she walked out.  It was unfair, too.  Axe was drinking just as much as her and had his stupid cup right beside his drum kit, but he didn’t appear to be sprinting away between takes.  It pissed her off— no pun intended.  She was just glad she wasn’t on stage.

Despite this, Missy kept at it.  Within a few days, she was actually starting to feel better now that she was loading up on water instead of energy drinks or sugary sodas.  She even brought the damn thing with her when she went to visit Pickles at Mordhaus the following weekend.

“Whoa, whatcha got there?” Pickles asked with a smirk the moment he saw it.

“Water.”

“Water?” he laughed, thinking she was pulling his leg.  “Nuh-uh.”

He grabbed the cup from her and sipped the straw before making a face.

“Eugh.  It is water,” he said.  “Damn.  If I had a thing like that, I’d have it filled with booze.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll talk to Axe about getting you one too,” she said before taking the tumbler back.

The topic was dropped as they made their way back to his quarters, where they sat together, smoked a bowl, and caught up on everything that had happened since they last saw one another.  The water absolutely came in handy when she started getting cottonmouth, and she sipped it over the course of the evening.  This meant that every so often, she’d get up, walk over to his bathroom, then come back a few minutes later.  Thanks to the pot, she didn’t feel so self-conscious about it and didn’t give it a second thought.  If Pickles noticed how often she had gotten up, he didn’t say anything about it.

As the night progressed, she eventually wound up sitting in his lap.  They were feeling pretty mellowed out and had gotten comfortable.  Of course, she needed to go again before long.  She tried to ignore it for a while, too lazy and content to move, especially since Pickles was holding her and she didn’t want to disturb him either.  She kept it in, squirming in his lap every so often to try to get comfortable.  Eventually, she couldn’t hold it any more.

“Pickles…”  She tapped his arm.  “Pickles, babe, lemme up.”

“Nuh-uh.”

Missy sighed.  He could be so clingy sometimes.

“Pickles,” she said.  “C’mon.  I gotta go pee.”

His arms tightened around her and he sat his chin on her shoulder.  She tried to pry his arms open, but he didn’t budge.

“Please, babe.  I really gotta go.”

“You know, I love feelin’ you squirm.  And hearin’ you beg.”  He rubbed his cheek against hers and began to sway side to side while still holding her waist.  “I think I’ll savor this.  It’s cute.  You’re usually so tough.”

“Okay, yeah, really funny.  Stop playing,” said Missy.  “Seriously, I’m about to piss all over you.”  She waited a moment and his hold on her didn’t loosen in the slightest.  She tried to struggle again, but couldn’t put up too much of a fight because she didn’t want to move more than necessary.  “Pickles!  For fuck’s sake, I’m not playing with you.  Let go before we make a mess.”

“Pfft.  Nothin’ the Klokateers can’t handle,” he said.  “Won’t be the worst cleanup they’ve done.  I mean, shit, fuckin’ Murderface lives here.”

As he teased, his free hand brushed up her thigh.  She felt his touch beneath the fabric of her skirt inching higher.  Her eyes widened and she shook her head.  She hoped he wasn’t about to do what she thought he was going to do.

“What are you doing?”

Pickles didn’t answer.  In the corner of her eye, she caught him bite his lip the moment the tips of his fingers traced the lace trim of her panties.  She clenched her thighs together in desperation as the pitch of her voice raised a little higher.

“Pickles.  Fuckin’ stop it.  Seriously.”

“Shh…  People are gonna think I’m really violatin’ you in here.”

“You might as well be!”

He laughed in response before his fingers slithered under the fabric of her underwear.  She tensed, pressing back against him as she tried her damndest to hold her bladder.  She felt his swelling erection poking her ass, and just knew that perv was getting harder each time she squirmed against it. 

“And you’d like it, too,” he continued.  Cool fingers delved between her legs, making her shudder.  He rubbed her clit, dangerously close to her urethra.  “Don’t lie, honey.  I already feel how wet you are down here…  Or is that something else?”

Missy opened her mouth to retort, but clamped it shut instead.  That fucker was right.  She hadn’t put up a real fight, and frankly, she didn’t want to.  She wasn’t used to being teased like this, and it was really taking a toll on her whether she wanted to admit to it or not.  But she didn’t need to verbalize this.  At this point, he knew her body better than she knew herself.  She couldn’t believe she was going along with this.

“God, I’m not used to you keepin’ your legs shut like this.  Usually you keep ‘em spread for me.”

“Prick.”

He pressed his lips to her cheek with an exaggerated smack as his free hand continued to finger her.  She chewed the skin of her bottom lip, fighting to hold it all in and fighting with herself.  On one hand, it was gross and she was going to have to shower when all she wanted to do was lay down.  On the other hand, they’d done worse together…  And he’d have to join her in the shower if anything happened.

“Pickles…”

Her voice cracked.  She was desperate, feeling like she was about to burst.

“You really want me to let you up, baby?”

It sounded like a genuine question, but it was a little too late.  At this point, it didn’t matter if he let her go.  It was inevitable that she would piss in his lap.  There was no way she’d make it to the bathroom even if she were to rush, but… she didn’t know what she was waiting for.  Permission?  Encouragement?

“No?”  His voice dropped to a whisper in her ear.  She could feel his grin widen before he spoke again, and felt the pads of his fingers circling her clit.  “Gonna squirt for me instead?”

“Squirt?!” Missy blurted in disbelief.  She clamped her hand to her mouth, attempting to hold back her laughter, but it was no good.  The moment he vocalized that ridiculous question, she cracked up along with him, and when she did, the tiniest trickle escaped.  She gasped and squeezed her legs tighter in an attempt to hold it, but it was too late.  The dams had burst.  She couldn’t stop herself from pissing all over her boyfriend’s fingers and his lap.  The worst part was that it felt so good after holding it that long.  She couldn’t help but shiver in relief.  And there seemed to be so much of it too.  It felt like the stream would never end as it soaked her panties and thighs in warmth.

Missy sat there, stunned as the flow tapered off…  She didn’t know whether to feel ashamed or aroused, but was leaning towards the latter as she felt Pickles’s boner throbbing against her and his hand still in her panties.  Her hand grabbed his wrist, pulling the soaked digits up and holding them to eye level.  She could see her own juices coating them, and grinned as she brought them closer to his face.  He may have had the upper hand here, but she wasn’t going to let him get off so easy.

“Suck.”

Pickles let out a small laugh, and she couldn’t tell if was one of disbelief or amusement.  She didn’t have to insist again before she saw him stick the fingers in his mouth and suck them clean.

“Not bad,” he said.

Frankly, it blew her mind he seemed to enjoy the taste of her piss better than the sip of water he had earlier, but that was another topic for another time.