Pissing in the cornfield. At first it trickled through my panties, then it gushed out like a stream.

The sun burned mercilessly, the cornfield was silent and endless. I ran barefoot through the tall green grass, my light dress only half pulled over me—my bladder burned with desire. At first, I left my blue panties on, but that wasn't enough. I slowly pulled them down, feeling the cool air on my bare skin. Then came the moment when I could no longer resist. I squatted deep in the dust, spread my legs wide, and let the full, hot stream of piss shoot out of me. No fabric, no protection – just bare skin and pure lust. The stream hit directly between my labia with a loud squirt, ran slippery and warm over my inner thighs, dripping uncontrollably down. The smell of fresh piss, the taste of freedom. I moaned, feeling how every second the warm wetness ignited my lust even more. The combination of heat, the rough ground beneath me, and the feeling of just letting go made me sick with desire. I was completely naked, unprotected, and every drop felt like a hot promise.