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wetmepants

Dry Member
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Everything posted by wetmepants

  1. Seems most here miss Experience Project. So maybe another question to ask is, what is it about that site that Omorashi.org doesn’t offer?
  2. Maybe so they don’t have to stand in the puddle underneath the urinal.
  3. Lots of planes do not have bathrooms. I wrote about my instance in a thread about pee shyness (aka shy bladder, paresis)
  4. In an airplane barf bag because there was no restroom on the plane and in a car ash tray because the driver wouldn’t pull over.
  5. This is my first original post, i.e., not responding to a thread already started. I apologize if there is already a similar one, but I did not find one through search. I am thinking this might be a fun thread to start about any diaper parties you attended. I realize this might be a fantasy come true for some. So, if you have not attended any, feel free to chime in with any thoughts about a diaper party you would like to attend but haven’t for whatever reasons. I attended a few back in the late 90s. Some of you might recall Diaper Pail Friends (DPF). They started out with snail mail before the WWW came along. They had an extensive subscriber base nationwide with regional people, sort of like ambassadors, that coordinated events locally. The few I attended were organized by the same guy, though held in different homes. Both events were held indoors in private apartments, which were still spacious considering. If you desired to be a diaper changer or changee, there was ample opportunity to do so, and be sort of out of the way. If there was anything sexual going on beyond that, I did not see any of it. BTW, these two parties were attended by all guys. I don’t recollect if the regional host intended it that way or not. Just having the opportunity to be with other like-minded people, and for the most part wearing only diapers, was unique. Everybody was super friendly and had lots of stories, whether completely on topic or not, to share. Besides diapers, some guys came in baby outfits too and or plastic pants. I recall one young man coming to the party with diaper supplies in a diaper bag packed courtesy of his wife. At the second party we took a collection to send out for pizzas. When the pizza delivery guy knocked on the door with the pizzas and stepped inside, he was greeted by a roomful of about 20 guys in diapers. By the look on his face, we could tell he was completely surprised, yet enjoying the comical sight. I’m sure that made up for a normally boring and uneventful delivery. We tipped him very well and we all imagined his fun relating the experience back at the pizza shop. Back
  6. Am I leaker or a gusher? It depends on a few factors. For years I’ve wished I could experience a sudden gush type of accident. If I held to the point of involuntary loss of control, then it would seem to come in a series of short bursts to the point I’d be wet but still have plenty of pee left in reserve. However, since I’ve gotten older, I find I can be somewhere in the middle. From time to time, I now experience urge incontinence. This seems to be in situations where I wasn’t planning for it and it comes at inconvenient times. It’s kind of funny how you can wish for something, and then when you get it, you are not so sure anymore. I once read there were two primary muscles that controlled the release of urine. I may be all wrong on this. But the first muscle was the more significant and the second being kind of secondary, at least for men. So, if you leaked past the first then it would be more difficult to hold back with the second. Again, I don’t know if this is true, but it seems to make sense for me. In more recent times I’ve noticed that when I am trying to hold on and get somewhere to more convenient, I have soaked the front of my briefs without even realizing it, or at least it was much more than the dribble I thought it to be. I like to go for long walks, and where I live there can be lots of people about, and the secluded opportunities can be scarce too. This can be a challenge when it is cool/cold out. A few years ago, I did experience that gusher I always wanted. I was one the home stretch and needed to pee badly. There was a guy walking in the opposite direction on the path to me and I did not want to wet in front of him. Try as I might, a leak came, then another, then a spurt, then another, and before I knew it, I could not stop. I also did not want to walk into my house with everyone home and in drenched pants. I was wearing full length navy track pants and I ended up soaked down both legs. For me that was the involuntary gusher I always wanted to experience.
  7. Pee shyness or desperation take your pick. Pee shyness is something I had to deal with a long time ago. It seems strange I had a fascination for omo at the same time. But I didn’t call it omo because I was too young to know about such things, and that term did not become known to me until many years later. To the best of my knowledge there was never a connection between the two. The omo was fun and the pee shyness was not. Elementary school, grades one through six, were fine. In or out of school I could pretty much pee whenever or wherever I wanted. Except one time my aunt and uncle took my sister and I to an amusement park with my cousins. At lunchtime my aunt took the girls to the restrooms leaving me with my uncle and baby boy cousin in his carriage. Me about ten years old was the oldest cousin. My uncle then turns to me and asks if I need to go to the restroom too. However, I reasoned in my head that meant my uncle would escort me and watch me pee. That’s when the pee shyness kicked in for the first time, and so I said, “no I don’t need to go”. That was a lie; I very much did need that trip to the urinal. I was then sternly warned “well then, you better not wet your pants”. For the remainder of the afternoon, I walked around with a very achy bladder. Had I wet my pants I probably would have received a spanking and it would not have been a first from that uncle. A few years later, 7th grade, first year of Jr. High School it all changed. The student body was huge compared to Elementary. We were expected to take care of our toilet needs while changing classes or at lunch break. I think it was only a matter of days after starting when I walked confidently into the boys’ room to piss. A friend from the previous year was on my heels yapping and stood right besides me, one elbow on the wall, still yapping, while I pulled it out to go. The flow wouldn’t start. No problem, act like there is nothing wrong, zip up and flush. Sounds pretty matter of fact, right? Wrong, that was the cement that stayed with me into my college years. Hoping I could time it right never happened because the traffic in and out was constant. There where like 15 bowls lined up on one wall with little space between and no partitions. Then just go in one of the stalls, which had doors, right? No! That wouldn’t be normal, someone might think I have a problem. Ridiculous thinking yes, but at 12 years we don’t think rationally. So, my issue was creating problems. There was a staff’s room near the administration offices, and just a little bit off the beaten paths. I felt my odds of finding it less crowded were better, but if I saw one of the staff going in before me, suddenly I felt shut out. I had a class with the same easy-going teacher three times a week after lunch. So, I started asking to be excused. It didn’t take too long for that teacher to say out loud for the whole class to hear, “what is this, you got a problem or something!? That got lots of laughs, including me to save face. It was getting to the point I might go the whole school day and not ever go once. That really mattered on Thursdays. I was always good at drawing. An aunt suggested to my mother I start taking painting lessons with my cousin a few towns away. My mother would pick me up from school and drop me off. All the other students were of similar age and mostly girls. The lessons were given in the lady’s basement where there was no bathroom. Well one Thursday I couldn’t make things happen accordingly, and so I had to leave school with a full bladder. I had to pee so bad that all I could envision while there, was what their bathroom might look like upstairs. No matter how unconformable I was, I still couldn’t muster the courage to speak up and ask if I could use it. I don’t think it even occurred to me I might lose control and wet my pants. That school year no less than four of my fellow classmates had accidents in school; two in my own class. As large as the student body was, I imagine there were others who wet, and I never knew about it. I started flying lessons at 16 and had my private license at 17. You might be thinking, “oh, rich kid huh.”. Not really, but that is beside the story. On two occasions flying the same leg round robin, fall cool weather, with the same good buddy, we did the usual and had coffees at the interim airport shop. Knowing better, we hit the head before departing. As you’ve guessed I couldn’t get the flow going. Halfway home I had to piss bad, and I know there is no way I can make it home without a pit stop. Well, it is not like being in a car; you need a suitable landing spot. There was a little airport in proximity with one 2700-foot runway, so I start taking us down. Lined up on final, and me about ready to piss my pants, I begin to see the treetops waving side to side in a very strong 90-degree crosswind. As bad as I had to piss, I knew I was risking a crash landing. So back up to cruise altitude and I am still about to piss my pants. With maybe seconds to spare I climb in the back two seats (there are four total), and piss into a barf bag. BTW, my buddy was able to take the controls. He was laughing so much he up chucked on himself. Duh, two weeks later and not any smarter I repeat the same mistakes. Only this time I feel compelled to make it home. Silly me thinks my buddy is probably not the wiser and I don’t want to let on about “the problem”. Tell you what. I don’t think I have ever experienced at other time the level of desperation I felt as on that flight. During the taxi in I was following behind another aircraft, who I thought was going way too slow. To no one else besides my buddy, I was cussing with all the really bad words. Suddenly, this big desperation wave hits me, and I clamp down for all it’s worth. For the non-pilots, you must know that my hands and feet were engaged with the throttle, yoke, and rudder pedals. So, when that wave hit, I summoned some inner kind of strength and felt about four super intense flutters within my groin. At that point I was within about 60 seconds of being able to park the aircraft. However, I still had to get to the Fixed Base Operation on the fourth floor of the terminal building. Flying up the stairs I started spurting before the third floor. Luckily for me there was a men’s’ on the third floor and so I escaped with not much more than soaked underpants and a wet crotch on my jeans. Upon entering the FBO I was admonished by the staff for the fast taxiing. The drinking age had dropped to 18 near the same time I turned to 18. I know now it was irresponsible, but I was doing like so many others. That is riding around with beer in the car and going to bars and clubs without the designated driver. That’s why the age slowly crept back to 21. Anyway, we all know the outcome of all those liquids on the bladder. It’s also not too good when you have the pee shy problem to go with it. There are too many stories to put here. But a typical scenario went like this: hope for the best at the urinals then pretend I didn’t need to go in the parking garage like the other guys before getting in the car. I have one recollection of riding in the car down Massachusetts Ave in Cambridge and bursting for a piss. I was right on the edge and my friend wouldn’t pull the car over. I was in the back seat and reached into the front to pull the dashboard ash tray out so I could piss in it. No pee shyness then because the piss was coming out no matter what. This is getting too long so I’ll end with one more that would be near the end of the time with “the problem”. At the very beginning of my career, I went through an extensive training program. The training included doing simulations as if performing live operations. I have always been nervous when being tested in these types of situations. I was 25 years old. In one of these mock operations as soon as it ended the first thing the evaluator askes me is “do you need to go to the bathroom”. I really did need to piss, but I said no, again! Unbelievable that at 25 I was still unable to admit I needed a piss, and I was at the edge then too. I can only wonder what kinds of telltale wiggles and hand manipulations I had been doing to make him say that to me.
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