Wife Peeing

Wife Peeing
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Emmet Gowin’s 1971 portrait of his wife, Edith, peeing in a barn seems to repel cliches—about love and intimacy, artist and muse, public and private—as an amulet repels evil spirits. © Emmet and Edith Gowin; courtesy Pace/MacGill Gallery, New York
Chris Wiley is an artist and a contributing editor at Frieze magazine.
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One of the most beautiful photographs I know of is an image of a woman standing in the doorway of a barn, backlit in a sheer nightgown, peeing on the floorboards beneath her. It was taken in Danville, Virginia, in 1971, by the photographer Emmet Gowin, and the woman in question is his wife, Edith. The picture is so piercingly intimate that I find it difficult even to look at it. This is not because I feel as if I am intruding, or being shown something that I was not meant to see, but simply because it seems to hover too close to the vital force of human connection. It is too poignant, too alive. Rather than merely avoiding clichés—about love and intimacy, artist and muse, public and private—the picture seems to repel them, as an amulet repels evil spirits. Clichés are prophylactics against the complexity and intensity of direct experience, tools used to distance ourselves from reality, but this photograph brings love near enough that we can feel its hot breath.
Gowin is one of those people who talks about his life using the pronoun “we.” He also likes to say, “If I never met and married Edith Morris, you would never have heard of me.” There is a certain amount of performative modesty in this statement, but it’s also probably true. Edith was the beating heart of the collection of photographs that Gowin took of his extended family during the nineteen-sixties and seventies, which garnered him his first rush of recognition, and which remains his greatest body of work. In them, she exudes the constancy and majesty of a towering redwood.
Occasionally, Gowin tells a story about how he began to make these early pictures. It goes like this: One evening in the mid-sixties, he was standing in the dirt driveway of his home, waiting for Edith to change her dress. It had recently rained. A puddle in the driveway caught his attention, and sent him into a reverie. “I knew it was shallow,” he recalled, during a lecture at the Portland Art Museum, in 2015, “but there was something about the way it looked that suggested that it could pass through to the other side of the earth.” He imagined himself plunging through this portal, and popping up somewhere satisfyingly exotic, like a child who fantasizes that he is digging a hole to China in his parents’ back yard. But in nearly the same instant Gowin also realized that this imaginary trans-terrestrial tunnel could work in reverse, and that some like-minded foreign citizen might tumble into it and end up in his little corner of Virginia, similarly awed by its unfamiliar contours. “This little mental experiment remade my relationship to the world,” Gowin said, “and I realized that my Virginia was as strange as if I had landed in New Guinea . . . It made me have a sense of my family as being the most precious, the most accessible, the most important subject I could ever have.”
From our current standpoint, it is hard to appreciate how novel this realization was. Family pictures, at the time, were relegated to the confines of handsomely bound photo albums, where they would gather dust until they were ceremoniously brought down off the shelf and passed around. There were notable exceptions: the ravishing pictures that Alfred Stieglitz took of his wife, Georgia O’Keeffe; Edward Weston’s photographs of his wife, Charis; and the pictures that Gowin’s teacher, Harry Callahan, made of his wife and daughter. But serious photographers rarely thought to turn their cameras on those who were closest to them. Gowin, however, approached his family with the same reverence that a previous generation of photographers had when they approached sweeping Southwestern landscapes or migrant farmers fleeing the Dust Bowl, and he imbued his pictures with equal spiritual heft. They are hosannas to the beauty of life close at hand.
In large part, Gowin’s project formed the bedrock on which the recent history of photographic intimacy now rests. For instance, Sally Mann’s “Immediate Family,” her impossibly beautiful, controversial chronicle of family life in rural Virginia, owes Gowin a clear debt. Nobuyoshi Araki’s “Sentimental Journey,” his heartbreaking chronicle of the life and death of his wife, Yoko, resonates. Ditto Lee Friedlander’s photographs of his wife, Maria. Nan Goldin’s “The Ballad of Sexual Dependency,” her raucous, elegiac visual diary of New York bohemia in the grip of the AIDS crisis, extended the concept of family to encompass an entire social milieu, but it nevertheless shares some of Gowin’s DNA. A minor history of photography could be written just by mining this vein.
I wonder, sometimes, about the fate of this kind of photographic intimacy in the age of Instagram, when users are encouraged to share the granular details of their lived experience, their most nominally intimate moments, but on a platform governed by likes and clicks. The impulse behind this kind of sharing could not be farther from the one that drove Gowin to make his indelible pictures. They were made not with the intention of broadcasting an idealized image of Gowin’s love for Edith and his family but, instead, as a part of the unfolding evolution of that love. “If you set out to make pictures about love, it can’t be done,” Gowin said. “But you can make pictures, and you can be in love. In that way, people sense the authenticity of what you do.”
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My wife works in a office and her skirts kept getting shorter and one day when she home after me I noticed she had nothing on under her skirt. I said nothing but started watching her more closely. After about a week she told me her boss asked if she could work late and she said yrs for the next money but the first night when she got home she went straight for the shower and I seen c** on the inside of her skirt. I love my wife and thought of she needed a little extra i wouldnt stop her. But she went off the pill without telling me and told me we are having a baby last night. She must think im really dumb cause I got fixed before we got married and there's no way it my baby. I'm going to love kicking her ass out the door baby and all.

So she's going to marry her boss? She has quite some proof to damage her boss' reputation, and he also may have quite a good salary. So maybe that was her plan from the start.

My partner and I have been together for over six years. On our first date she was wearing a quite short skirt and top. We went to the local cinema, and during the film as we were getting to know each other she told me that she never wore any panties. I asked if she was wearing them now, and she said no. As the film progressed I put a hand on her knee. Meeting no resistance I slowly began to move it higher until I reached the hem of her skirt. Still no resistance, so it went further up her thigh. I was getting quite a h****** as my hand got higher. As she said, she was wearing no panties as my hand found her warm pus-sy. For the rest of the film it rested there. She was totally hairless and smooth, wonderful! After a short time we moved in together. She always wears skirts and dresses and doesn't pocess any panties. Dennis.

No! she is just really, really se xy. Dennis

I "trained" my wife to go pantyless. When some read my stories about my wife going without panties I can see how some doubt that they are true. But like George in Seinfeld, theses stories are all amazingly true. You see we met as teenagers. I didn't f*** her then, but I did "train" her to go without panties from the start. She loved me so she did it. I also always stretched her p**** l**** lips and "trained" her to do it daily, so she always had a huge hanging open p**** . It was awesome to see her bend over in public and have those p**** lips hanging almost wide open and wet. Then I trained her to pee and never wipe her c*** . Then I jerked her p**** off and taught her to j*** off to girlie books and also never wipe her c*** . Then after we got engaged and started having s** of course I always trained her to never wipe her c*** even though I pulled out. We got married and after I started c****** in her she always never wiped her c*** . Many times she would wear a dress or skirt and every time we would go out, I also trained her to want to be wet, and so I told her to pee, j*** off, and get f***** , and never wipe her c*** . Amazingly she did it and loved it. From when we got married till 40 years later she always did what she was "trained" to do. Even then in her 50's and early 60's she would still go without panties many times and still left her p**** wet. We are now older and while that doesn't happen any more, I still have the memories. I don't care who believes me or not. I know. And while no one will believe this comment, I never once suspected her of being unfaithful. She was always shy and while I know many guys and girls saw her c*** through the years, I think they were all left with a nice image. All true. :-)

We were in an elevator at a casino and my wife had on a see through micro mini dress with no panties on. I had just f***** her twice after she peed and jerked off and she didn't wipe her hairy c*** at all so she was soaking wet. The elevator stopped and a young girl got on. She saw my wife with c** dripping down her legs and she was almost drooling and I know my wife secretly would love a young girl, so I said for her to bend over and I looked at the girl eyeing my wife's wide open soaking wet hairy smelly p**** , and I motioned for her to shove her hand up her c*** and she did and it went in easily and almost up to her elbow. I never got my hand up my wife's p**** but his young girl had no problem. She pumped her fist in and out a few times until my wife came and then the girl got off with us at the casino floor with her hand and arm sticky and wet. It all took maybe a minute, but that was really hot. My wife loved it and she jerked off thinking of it when we went back up to the room. I just came in her another 2 times. I always wondered what the young girl did afterwards? :-)

My wife and I were on vacation and she wore a pleated tennis skirt with no panties on to go to the breakfast buffet. We were going to play tennis after breakfast. But before we went down to the buffet I f***** her, then she jerked off, then she peed, and then I f***** her again. She never wiped her hairy p**** . So we get on the buffet line there is c** dripping out of her c*** and down her legs. We sit on a plastic like bench at the table and she says she is so wet with her c*** dripping all over the seat that she is actually sliding on the c** which is now all over her ass and when we got up to leave the entire seat as she had to slide to get out was soaking wet. I saw it and thought about the next person to sit there, and how they would be sitting in my wife's c*** juices. We then played tennis with her p**** still fairly wet and mushy. It was pretty cool, but this was a long time ago, but still nice to remember it.

My wife would wear white tight jeans with no panties and right before going shopping she would love me to f*** her after she jerked off and peed. Right after I came in her she would pull up the jeans and all of her c** , my c** , and her pee, would drip down her lags and into her crotch and she would walk around in public like that and love it.

My wife would wear nylon shorts with no underwear and wear them like that for like 3 days straight. Right before she went to a store I would always f*** her from behind by just pulling the shorts aside, which was easy as the c*** would be mostly hanging out of them anyway, and she never dried her p****, so all the c** would drip into the crotch or down her legs when she went out. By the 3rd day they were not covering her hairy c*** at all as they stayed stained and smelly and were stuck up in her c*** instead of covering it. She would go to the store like that and loved when she bent over and someone would see it all from behind.

Nasty b**** not changing shorts for three days.

Really smelly, soaked, and stained....nice

My wife would wear nylon shorts with no underwear and wear them like that for like 3 days straight. Right before she went to a store I would always f*** her from behind by just pulling the shorts aside, which was easy as the c*** would be mostly hanging out of them anyway, and she never dried her p****, so all the c** would drip into the crotch or down her legs when she went out. By the 3rd day they were not covering her hairy c*** at all as they stayed stained and smelly and were stuck up in her c*** instead of covering it. She would go to the store like that and loved when she bent over and someone would see it all from behind.

My wife came to our office and I could smell her scent more than normal. She never wears panties but this day she had her usual mini skirt but she had her period so she had a tampon in her. Her c*** hairs sometimes show if the skirt is really short, but the tampon string was also showing and her usual c*** smell was a bit more powerful. I told her she shouldn't walk around in public like that, but she did it anyway.

Going to a concert my wife had on a regular dress and as always with no panties. That morning and afternoon of the concert I f***** her and as always she left it wet and dripping down her leg. So right before leaving for the concert she changes into what was called a "T-shirt dress". Basically like a T-shirt it just about covered her ass and hairy p**** . Then she bent over and I f***** her. Then she took a pee standing up, Then she went in my desk and got a girlie book and jerked off on the floor to the book. After she had an o***** and right before we went left she bent over and I f***** her again, and she was so wet and open I just put it in between her legs and it slipped in easily until I came in her again. Never did she wipe her p**** and then we went to a fast food place as we didn't have time for a restaurant and she was dripping everywhere. At the concert and in the 1st row she opened her legs wide and flashed the musicians. Then on the way home I had to stop on a side street and took her outside of the car, bent her over and shot one more load in her. That was the sluttiest she ever was.

My wife has an open p**** with stretched p**** lips and when she bends over with her short skirts in public everyone sees inside of her. She is always wet as she wants me to f*** her before she goes out. We had a business and before she went to the bank she would j*** off to a girlie book, then pee, then have me f*** her a second time, and then go out without wiping herself.

My wife played tennis without panties after I f***** her twice and she didn't wipe her c*** . She also loves going shopping with short skirts and no panties after I f*** her, she pees, she jerks off, and I f*** her again. She never wipes her p**** and as she walked out to go shopping one time her c*** was making squishing noises and she still just walked out. All her skirts are so short that she leaves wet spots on seats , but others that are a bit longer all have c** stains on them. Even dresses. She wore a black dress to a Christmas party a few times and the entire inside is full of c** stains. Even the inside of her fur coat is full of stains. She loves it all.

STOP PUTTING YOUR LAME SCHOOLBOY FANTASIES ON HERE!!

My wife wears panties and loves to f*** . I take her to the movies and f
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