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I often find myself envisioning a late summer's date with Coco. A slight breeze in the air, but the chill of autumn not yet present; between the heat and our lively chat, we'd naturally not leave the house without water bottles. As we wandered around town, doing nothing in particular, I'd take great care to ensure that she had a beverage in hand at all times. As soon as one gets low, we'd stop at another shop or vending machine so she never has a moment to realize she's tapped out. She'd absentmindedly sip each one with glee as we enjoy each other's company, being sure to keep her mouth from drying out as we converse throughout the day.
She would be none the wiser, of course. She may be a succubus, but it'd be a silly thing to even consider. To say nothing of her pride. The human is supposed to be the prey, so to not be in control would be shameful. It is that feeling I so desperately seek. In time, Coco's bladder would start to swell, but it is that very pride and shame that would prevent her from speaking up about it. It would be small at first. A slight fidget here and there, a little bounce on her toes. But over time, the urge would keep growing, building. Her eyes darting around, small whimpers escaping her lips, even crossing her legs to try and physically restrain herself.
Eventually, it'll become too much for either of us to bear. "What's wrong" I'd ask her, as if this wasn't my goal from the very start. At this point, it's as if just speaking was a difficulty for her. Hearing the reply straight from Coco's mouth makes it all the sweeter.
"I have to go", barely more audible than a whisper. But alas, not a toilet in sight. Our date has brought us to a walkway in the park, quite a ways away from the nearest place she could relieve herself.
Coco's face is lit up redder than the ripest, shiniest cherry you've ever seen. She's primed to burst at the slightest provocation.
"There's no one around right now. Why not go in the bushes?"
An absolutely absurd suggestion. But what alternative is there? It will be much more embarrassing if the current situation is allowed to continue.
Almost without hesitation, she waddles over to the edge of the path. She fumbles as she tries to unfasten the button on her shorts. Next comes the zipper, then a hurried raise of her hoodie, ever so slightly. In one clumsy movement, Coco's shorts and panties slide to her knees, as her bared brown buttcheeks similarly drop their elevation. A second later, and it would've all been over. A loud sigh of relief comes from the demon, as the torrent of urine comes rushing out onto the grass and the pavement beneath her.
She knows I'm watching, and she knows how I feel. I've waited so long for this moment. At long last, I have watched Coco pee. It was the best date of my life; no other girl could bewitch me with such powerful charm. For I have never wanted to see a girl pee as much as I wanted to see Fuwacoco pee.
