I was at a music festival. The organisers had miscalculated, and brought in too few port-a-loos for the crowd. The queues became very long. The men were OK, because there were plenty of plastic urinals. But the women who couldn't wait in the queues had to find somewhere else to pee.
It was still daylight when two rock chicks (very short denim skirts, t-shirts, shades) knelt on the grass at the edge of the crowd. Drinks in one hand, they both reached under their skirts with the other, and edged their knickers down. Once they had done that, they both pissed on the grass, between their legs.
After they finished, they stood up, and pulled up their knickers once more.
I think I was the only one who realised what they had been doing. I had to check, so I sat down on the ground, right between where they had been kneeling. I put my hands down on the grass. And, yes. I could still feel the warm wetness of their puddles, soaking into the dry earth.
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