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I was maybe six feet away and could see the gusher of urine. I love that sight, whatever their age and I slipped my zip down, dropped my jeans a couple of inches and my cock rose hard in my hand with a few strokes.I hadn’t had a good fuck for a couple of weeks now, so wanking was my usual outlet while seated in front of the computer, often watching voyeur videos of just such a scene and being amazed at how the guys with the cameras capture the views. Many of them were from Eastern Europe, primitive areas behind wedding halls in some cases. Even the brides in all their white finery had to resort to the bushes for a piss. A scenario started to whirr through my dirty mind. Her husband was dead and looked like he was taking a snooze if anybody looked at him. She didn’t know he was dead and was just so relieved to empty her bladder. There had been no one around when I followed her. She couldn’t run with her underwear round her legs. Surprise would be a major factor. Her cunt was open and. And she could stilltalk like a swell whenever she wanted to anyway."I say," she said, doing it now. "Awfully good show, what!"She gave a manly chuckle. This certainly was the best of both worlds.She got to her feet, remembering her intention to maintain her standardsof cleanliness while she was living Burt's life. Here in the hotel she'dprobably be able to pay for a bath to be drawn for her.But it seemed a bit pointless to be perfectly honest. Why bother puttingon airs? The whole point was that she enjoy being Burt - not pretend to besome jumped up pansy. And bathing took far too long. She wanted to getoutand enjoy the city by day as a man!So instead she pulled on her dirty trousers and shirt, and her waistcoatand boots. There was a musty smell of horse shit and stale beer on theclothes but Ann shrugged. If they wouldn't let her into poshestablishments or first class carriages anyway then what did it matter?2While Burt and the duchess sat at breakfast on the balcony in the.
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