PeerPressure

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PeerPressure last won the day on April 8

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About PeerPressure

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  1. PeerPressure

    female Peeing Through the Fly? ...If Only I Were a Guy

    I don't really use my labia to aim per se, rather I try to clear my stream of obstructions. I've had some success with this (though not while wearing pants haha). I don't really see how pushing things together down there would do anything other than make a huge mess down my legs and all over my hands, haha. Hope that helps!
  2. PeerPressure

    Most Exciting Place for a Girl to Pee?

    Thank you everyone for the ideas!! I'll have to give some of these a shot--and revisit some old favorites!
  3. The title pretty much says it all! Ladies, where's the most exciting place you've ever peed (or fantasized of peeing), and guys, where's your favorite place for a girl to pee?
  4. PeerPressure

    female An Abandoned Building of Unrivaled Freedom

    Hehe thank you!! You should give it a try if you can! It's incredible!
  5. PeerPressure

    female Peeing Through the Fly? ...If Only I Were a Guy

    Not at all! But I consider soaking my pants a win in itself
  6. PeerPressure

    female Peeing Through the Fly? ...If Only I Were a Guy

    A few weeks ago, I think, but in the shower instead of at the toilet because I didn't want to clean up the mess, which there ended up being a lot of haha.
  7. PeerPressure

    female Peeing Through the Fly? ...If Only I Were a Guy

    Despite the frustration, the failures really are a lot of fun, hehe. I've seen those! I may get one sometime just for the fun of it and convenience when wetting isn't an option, but I want the pride of being able to get the same results au naturel . I also have this fantasy of showing off to a surprised boyfriend sometime haha.
  8. PeerPressure

    female Not Making a Pit Stop

    Thank you!! And yessss, I wish that too! I don't dare share this stuff with anyone outside this site. It'd be amazing to have someone to enjoy it with in person.
  9. PeerPressure

    female Not Making a Pit Stop

    You got it! I actually live alone, so no need to hide anything! In fact, I'll sometimes just let loose where I'm standing at home! I don't do it super often though because I get tired of having to clean up the mess all the time.
  10. PeerPressure

    female Not Making a Pit Stop

    You can count on it!! Thank you!! I also wonder if they'd dismiss it as just a clumsy drink spill. Most people don't expect a full-grown woman to wet herself so thoroughly. I absolutely loooooove the risk of being seen--what a rush! Actually being seen...eh. I've only had it happen once and I was totally crushed at first, but looking back, I find it super exciting! It's a double-edged sword I suppose.
  11. PeerPressure

    female A Travel Challenge

    Heyy everyone!! I just got in from an 8.5-hour drive for work, so if my writing is a bit lacking, I apologize in advance! During these long hours, however, I tackled a new pee challenge to stave off the boredom and wanted to share the experiences while the excitement is fresh! So I woke up about an hour earlier than I intended this morning. Typically, I would hop into the shower pretty quickly and relieve myself for the morning there, but I had an idea: From the moment of awakening until I checked into my motel room, I would only pee in unconventional places...and never in the same place twice. I guess showers aren't technically a "conventional place" to release one's bladder, but I find it so dang satisfying that I do it every morning (confession time haha) and figured it'd be cheating to start off my new challenge that way. I was really bursting for a pee, so I opted for perhaps the simplest and easiest "unconventional pee" on the books: I dashed to my living room, slipped off my panties, spread my legs a little more than shoulder-width apart, closed my eyes, and relaxed. Within seconds, the morning silence turned into a crisp patter, which swiftly transformed into a forceful cascade. My eyes still shut, my lips curled into an impish smile with satisfaction as I let out a relieved sigh. I really had to go. I moved my feet together and shot a glance down as a warm rush began to encompass my feet. A very sizeable puddle was forming on my wood floor (I made an immature joke to myself about morning wood) and streaks of stray urine streamed down my legs. Apparently, my floor isn't entirely level because a small stream began to shoot off to the right of the puddle. Who'd've thought pee could be a handy architectural tool? At last, the contents of my bladder diminished to the last few drops, some of which spurted to the floor, the rest to my legs. I recognized the error of my ways as I went to fetch some paper towels...leaving a trail of pee foot prints on my path to the kitchen. Still enjoying my nakedness from the waist down, I grabbed a wad of towels, wiped my self down, and retraced my tracks to the formidable puddle. Then I ran a quick mop around the area, hopped into the shower, and prepared for my trek, feeling satisfied with my first wizz of the day. I donned a black skirt today to facilitate my unwillingness to use the facilities, and hopped into my car for the long journey, gently sipping from my water bottle. About an hour down the road, I still wasn't feeling any urge at all, so I began drinking a little more ambitiously. Another hour passed and, right about the time my gas tank was hitting E, my bladder was hitting F. I had been mildly fidgeting in my seat for a few minutes and was thankful for a pit stop. I pulled into a dumpy little gas station and was quickly thankful for my pact of unconventional peeing. It seemed like the kind of place you'd catch 15 diseases just from touching the restroom door handle. As I lifted the nozzle and put it into my gas tank, I pondered my options. It was fairly deserted, so I had a fair amount of freedom. The botanical coverage was somewhat lacking, so I couldn't run off into the woods to pee--which would've been fairly boring anyway. My options were either to pee at my car or around the side of the building. I started to make my way around the building when it occurred to me, There's no one here. Just pee from your car! I felt a surge of excitement with the thought. But what if someone drives up while I'm peeing? I shot back. You're two hours from home. Even if someone catches you, they won't recognize you. I retorted. Yeah, but what if someone catches me..? My argument against this undertaking was buckling. I quickly walked back to my car and made sure nobody from inside could make out what was going on. Between the numerous large advertisements in the window and where I was parked, I discerned that I could occlude line of sight from both the convenience store and the road if I opened my driver and rear passenger door. All the while, my bladder was urging me to quickly determine my course of action. Okay...You win. I conceded to myself. You won't regret it. I snarkily assured myself. I took one last glance around to ensure there were no unexpected audience members for the show. It was just as clear as when I pulled in. Tally ho. I opened both of my doors, lifted my skirt, and sat on the frame of the car. I nervously slid my panties to the side, my heart pounding furiously, the thrill egging me on. I continued nervously glancing around, certain some massive procession would determine that was the precise time to come gas up. Thankfully, no such procession materialized--only the occasional car shot down the road, oblivious to the woman baring her nether region to the gas pump in front of her. I had some difficulty getting the waterworks flowing as the hot humidity bore down on me, feeling like a thousand boiling oceans under the anxiety. I cursed softly as some urine gently shot askew, dampening my groin and streaking down to my butt. This was enough, however, to get the juices moving. I adjusted myself as the spurt evolved into a steady stream, drenching the pavement beneath me. My muscles were trembling from nervousness, excitement, and because of my awkward position. Once the stream was adequately established, I glanced around again. Still clear. Suddenly...THUD. Startled, my heart and I simultaneously jumped, and while I thankfully managed to avoid peeing all over myself, my stream faltered. It was just the gas pump as it finished filling my tank. I sighed with relief, adrenaline coursing through my body even more rapidly than the urine had been coursing from my urethra. After a moment, I managed to relax enough to begin peeing again. By the last few spurts, I had left a very respectable puddle, which pooled satisfyingly and streamed away slowly. My cover still not blown, I reached into my car, grabbed a tissue, and wiped myself clean. I replaced my panties and rubbed some sanitizer onto my hands as I admired my puddle and its many proud streaks. My heart was still pounding as I leaped into my car and sped off, nobody the wiser. Now I was feeling really confident. Perhaps too confident. For the sake of making good time on my trip, it took every ounce of will I had to not feverishly down water in anticipation of the next adventure. Despite this incredible (if I may say so myself) display of self-control, I had enough residual fluid working its way through my kidneys that I only made it about another hour down the road before pit stop #2 became a necessity. Okay...admittedly, I probably could've delayed a little longer, but I was excited to go for round 2 . This time, I pulled into a McDonalds...that wasn't quite as vacant as the gas station. This is going to be a challenge. I parked my car and made my way in, surveying the area. There were probably about 6 or 7 people, not counting employees, suggesting that perhaps trying anything outside was a bad idea. I briskly walked to the bathrooms and pushed open the door to the women's room, hoping it was maybe single occupancy and I could just pee in the sink or something (I wasn't about to give up so easily in the face of adversity!). To my disappointment, it was not. There were two stalls, a trash can, and a sink. I thought about pulling the trash can into the stall and peeing into it, but that seemed somewhat like cheating, so I opted against it. Hmm...What about a floor drain? Nope. It was in the middle of the bathroom. I'd be flashing anyone walking through the door. Recognizing I didn't have any particularly good options there, I gently cracked open the door to take another look around. In doing so, I caught a glimpse of the men's room sign. A light bulb went off in my head. Even using the stall in there wouldn't be a conventional pee. The bathroom entrances were offset into a little cove, with walls that occluded the doors from the rest of the restaurant. I slowly crept out to see if I could sneak my way in (praying I wasn't going to walk in on some guy at the urinal). There were several people sitting within sight of the cove, but they were pretty distracted. But what if I walk in on some guy peeing?! Again, my heart was racing. I compromised. I went back into the women's room, where I could wait without looking out-of-place to other restaurant goers. I stood by the door and listened for the men's room door. Several minutes passed, during which I heard nothing. If anyone's in there, he's taking a crap and I can slip out unnoticed. I exited the women's room again and nervously glanced from the cove. Nobody was paying much attention, so I swiftly and confidently (only on the outside. Inside, I was terrified) pushed my way into the men's room, half expecting to find a guy, penis-in-hand, with a look of shock on his face as I barged in. Thankfully, I did not. It was empty. The butterflies in my stomach were violently trying to rip their way out of my abdominal wall and pure epinephrine jolted through me. I swear, my heart rate probably set a world record. I quickly made my way toward the stall, longingly eying the urinal and I passed. I closed the stall door behind me, silently sighing with immense relief as I clicked the lock. As I turned to face the toilet, my anxious euphoria was dampened slightly--the toilet was filthy. It was covered in urine and there were splatters on the floor. Cautiously, I raised my skirt up, pulled my panties to the side, and semi-straddled the porcelain with my butt hanging over it, afraid to let anything touch it. Again, my muscles were trembling--though much more this time. Admittedly, as I began to pee, I contributed a fair amount to the urine on the toilet seat (oops! ). Relief swept over me as I emptied my bladder, vigorously tinkling into the water below. It was strange to get such a surge of excitement from something so mundane as a regular toilet! Context is everything, I guess! As I was wiping, my heart surged again and my eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as I heard the door open. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP--No--BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, my heart raced so loudly I thought for sure he would hear it. Still hovering my butt over the toilet seat, toilet paper in hand, I barely dared to breathe as I heard this mystery man rustling his pants at the urinal. The sound of urine striking porcelain. I'd've probably been turned on, had I not been terrified. I'm certain he only peed for a normal amount of time, but it seemed to me as though his bladder was endless. I began to think I would grow old and die in this men's room stall, awaiting his conclusion. At last, however, my fears were assuaged when, somehow, the sound of him spitting and the flush of the urinal were not drowned out by the ferocious pounding of my cardiovascular system. He spent a few brief seconds at the sink and I heard the door open...then close. I stood there for a few moments, absolutely petrified. Suddenly, my thoughts burst into a frenzy. I finished wiping, didn't even remember to flush or wash my hands, and dashed for the door, afraid someone would walk in. Thankfully, nobody did. I burst through the door much more forcefully than I had intended. This attracted the attention of a lady at a table near the restrooms who gave me a puzzled look, which transitioned into a dirty look when she realized I was emerging from the men's room. I just sped past, avoiding eye contact, and jumped into my car. It wasn't until several miles down the road that I finally calmed down and remembered I forgot to wash up. More hand sanitizer. And a lot of AC--I had worked up a bit of a sweat. After the anxiety subsided, I began laughing with hysterical euphoria. I did it! I used a men's room in a crowded area AND at the same time as a guy! Also striking to me, was that, because I was like 3 hours away from home, there were virtually no consequences. Sure, the woman caught me, but what was she going to do? We'll never see each other again! Seeing how crazy long this recount is becoming, I'll quickly summarize the more mundane ones (or ones similar to stories I've written in the past) and then skip to the final one. Another hour and a half in, I peed into a gas station restroom trash can (yeah, I know, I considered this cheating earlier...but after McDonalds, I was willing to tame it down a bit). Two hours after that, I did the classic cup-pee in my car at a roadside rest. Finally, after about 8.5 hours of travel, a little longer than anticipated, I pulled into the motel. During the last half hour, I began really piling on the fluids again, so by the time I pulled in, I really had to go--bad. I wasn't allowed a trip to the ladies' room until I had checked into my room, however. I parked and virtually ran inside, hoping to work through the process as quickly as possible. Thankfully, I didn't have to wait in a line. The guy checking me in was very friendly. I probably seemed like an anti-social jerk because I was focusing more on not peeing all over the floor, or at the very least, dancing like an idiot in front of him, clutching my lady bits, than on friendly chit-chat. Hurriedly, I thanked him as I grabbed my key and raced off. Not even bothering to grab my luggage, I began searching for my room. En route, however, I found a little cove that I assumed formerly hosted a vending machine. As I shot past it, I turned around, considering, Why waste a perfectly good bladder of pee? You haven't checked into your room yet. Forget the luxury of a toilet. I glanced around to ensure nobody was loitering around. Nope. I ducked into the cove, where I proceeded to fully and properly wet myself. No skirt-raising, no panties pulled to the side, just torrents of pee rushing down my legs, soaking my socks and shoes, and a steady trickle straight to the ground, forming yet another large puddle. After the encounter at McDonalds, this seemed like child's play and came to me easily. Within a long few seconds, I was thoroughly drenched from the waist down. I giggled a little as I admired my puddle, then raced off to find my room, the urine quickly cooling in the night breeze, chilling my legs ever so slightly. I found my room and, still wearing my urine-soaked clothes, lugged all my stuff in, enjoying the dampness. Without even changing, I laid a towel on the chair and set up my laptop to write this. Now...if you'll excuse me, I have some cleaning up to do and some tingling to tend to downstairs I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did!!
  12. PeerPressure

    female Not Making a Pit Stop

    Heyy all!! This one is fresh from yesterday afternoon!! So I love being active and, lately, have been really into the idea of doing a triathlon, leading me to dust off my bicycle and give it some exercise. It has been really hot and humid lately, leading me to drink a lot of water before I go out. As I'm sure you're all very well aware, what goes in must come out Yesterday, I got off of work a little early and hurried home, debating whether to settle for a running or biking day. By the time I parked my car, I'd decided on two-wheeling it for the day. I gave myself about an hour to unwind after work and stock up on fluids, which I, admittedly, may have overdone. Meanwhile, I changed into a bright pink tank top and black shorts. By the turn of the clock, I had loaded my bike onto my car and was ready to go! I cruised over to a nice, paved trail about 20 minutes from my home, entirely neglecting to relieve myself before setting off. When I pulled into the parking space and began unloading my bike, my bladder was already making itself known, but I intentionally disregarded it. I hadn't had a good, daring pee since I was caught a few months ago and, as embarrassing as that was, I was craving the thrill again. Plus, I figured, I could find a nice water-deprived bush off the trail and hydrate it if things got really bad. It's not uncommon to see guys and, occasionally, other girls coming back onto the trail from the woods, presumably having done exactly that. With that looming in the back of my mind, I set off! A few miles in, it was starting to get bad. I could no longer push the urge to pee into the back of my mind. I was just riding past an area where the trail meets a stream with a pretty waterfall--a popular location for trail walkers and families, however, so I needed to hold it until I was clear of all the people. Every drop that cascaded down the waterfall teased my bladder, which threatened to release a similar cascade from my crotch. I bit my lip and pressed on, occasionally trying to discreetly press my hand between my legs--as if that ever helped. As I zipped past the people, happily laughing and taking photos, blissfully oblivious of the woman urging her bladder not to burst, I considered my options. Obviously, the bushes were a relatively safe bet...but I didn't want safe--not today. I could get off my bike, pull my shorts and panties to the side, and soak the pavement. Perhaps a little too risky. I wasn't keen on giving any passersby a free show of my lady bits. Why not just pee while I ride? Forget the pit stop altogether! With that thought, I flashed a devilish grin, which was quickly washed away by the waves of urine sloshing around in my abdomen. At last, I found a spot of the trail where the laughs and yells of others were out of earshot. I looked forward and backward, each twist an act of torture--threatening to prematurely force open the floodgates. Nobody's in sight. Now or never. As I caught a slight decline, I stopped pedaling, scooted slightly forward on the bike seat, and relaxed my muscles. Perhaps facilitated by my sitting position, the first spurts of pee discharged far more quickly and easily than I anticipated. Within seconds, my panties, unable to handle the rush of fluid, which overflowed and dampened my shorts. A creeping darkness overtook my groin and pee warmly gushed all over my butt and my legs, leaving the bicycle seat a gleaming black, and pattering to the ground, leaving a trail of drops. I let out a moan of relief as I coasted, leaking all over myself and my bike. It was a surreal sensation--the world rushing by as the contents of my bladder rushed downward. This sensation began to fade, however, as I hit the bottom of the decline and began losing momentum. Preoccupied by the urine spouting out of my urethra, I put my feet out, catching myself and standing over my bike. There, I stood, ferociously gushing from my nether region. The wind began blowing, a coolness overtaking me as it collided with my sweat and my newly-wet legs. Some of the fluid rushed down into my socks, which thirstily licked it up, diverting it into my shoes. The rest cascaded straight down, hitting the frame of my bike or tumbling straight to an ever-growing puddle below. Cautiously, I continued darting glances in both directions to ensure nobody was coming. The coast was clear. At last, however, as all good things do, the final few spurts came to a sputtering end, and I stood there, soaked from the waist down, in a puddle of my own pee, gently gripping my similarly-wet bicycle by the handles. Eagerly, I observed the damage with a smile. A splash of pee formed a small, trickling stream from the puddle beneath my gleaming legs. My shorts were soaked, clinging hungrily to my skin. The bicycle seat was drenched and the frame dripped seductively. Now beaming, I mounted my bike and set off again, adrenaline shooting through my body, giving my ride new life. By the time I made it back to my car, only my panties were slightly damp, but my spirit was not! ...And my bladder was full again. I had parked on the edge of the lot, next to the woods, away from most of the other cars. There were a few people chatting on the other side. I grabbed the towel I keep in my trunk and laid it on my seat in order to avoid getting pee all over it. Then, I made my way to the passenger side of the car, stood where my lower half was obscured, and peed myself again, laughing as I watered the grass, nobody else aware of the 24-year-old woman peeing down her legs like a little girl. Upon finishing, I shook my legs as dry as I could, climbed into my car, and made my way back home.
  13. PeerPressure

    female Peeing Through the Fly? ...If Only I Were a Guy

    Isn't that the truth?! I'm not optimistic I'll ever figure it out, but I don't plan on giving up anytime soon! It's fun to make a mess every now and then! I've toyed with the idea of getting a device, but haven't caved at this point. I'd probably enjoy it and get a fair bit of use out of it, but there's a stubborn part of me that wants to figure something out without needing any extra equipment. For the time being, I'm compromising with skirts and risk of damp legs. Have either of you used one? Aww, thank you both so much!! I'm glad you enjoy it!! I do a lot of writing for my current job, but it's mostly legal stuff nobody would want to read. It's nice to write something people enjoy by night, at least! I'd like to start doing some more serious writing on the side, but haven't gotten around to it just yet. Maybe someday!! Hahaha! That's amazing! Unfortunately, no Leonardo DiCaprio! I must've looked away at the wrong moment! Although now I'm curious what kind of devious ideas he was incepting
  14. PeerPressure

    Some Questions for the Guys

    Hey guys! A couple of brief questions have piqued my interest and I'd really like some masculine insight if they're not too personal! Firstly, when you're actively wetting, do you get an erection? Like, as you're peeing? Also, what does it feel like to pee through an erection? Is it difficult? Sorry if these seem immature or too personal I'm just really curious!
  15. Heyyy everyone!! This one's a bit less adventurous than usual, but I didn't want to leave you all out of the fun! Sooo, confession time: Last night, I had a really sexy pee dream that left me feeling particularly excited "down there" when I woke up... It was a pretty crummy day outside, so instead of going out and doing anything, I decided to make today a home day and, because I was feeling so tantalized, figured I could work on developing my pee abilities and have some personal time! For those of you who are into (ridiculous) fantasy writing, I'll describe my dream first (or at least the coherent and relevant parts). If that's not your thing, go ahead and skip down to paragraph 7!! So it began as a crowded concert at a beach. The sun was dipping into the sea at the horizon, a vibrant red/orange gleaming off of the waves behind the stage as a groovy riff rose from the instruments. A handful of my friends and I were really into the music, dancing and flinging our bodies about without a care in the world. Just as I was happily twirling my summer dress in the cool evening breeze, my friend Alyssa turned to me and cheesily said, "Gotta pee, BRB!" and disappeared seemingly-aimlessly into the crowd. With the insight only one immersed in a dream could possibly have, I instinctively knew she was going in the wrong direction to find the restroom (even though I had no idea where they really were). I ran after her to give her a heads up, but was unable to catch a glimpse of her in the throng of fellow music enthusiasts. Meanwhile, the air shook with the pulsating notes arising from the nimble fingers of the bassist. The mellow mood of the evening suddenly shifted to unease in my mind. What if I can't find her and she doesn't find the restroom? Somehow, these thoughts gradually contorted into, What if I can't find the restroom? and I suddenly felt the urge to relieve myself. I wrestled through the sticky, sweaty, crowd, the pulsating notes resonating inside my bladder. Desperation was knocking, threatening to bust down the door to my urethra. I quickly looked down to ensure I wasn't leaking in my...jeans? (I had been wearing a dress before, but that didn't occur to me until after I woke up). Hallelujah. Still dry. I plunged my hand into my groin and continued to struggle through the crowd, now genuinely fearful I was going to wet myself in front of all these strangers. Just in the nick of time, however, I looked up and saw an abnormally large sign looming overhead, indicating the location of the women's room. With one hand pressing into my lady bits, I used my free hand to force people out of my way, some of them protesting at my blatant rudeness. Finally, I burst from the edge of the crowd and hobbled toward the restroom, hunched over in desperation. Hurriedly, I ran into the door. It didn't budge. I fell to the ground, curled up, nearly crying because I had to pee so badly. With one hand, I was clutching my nether region, with the other, my face. Between the shadows of my fingers, I saw the door suddenly open and some feet approach. I looked up through misty eyes and saw a man with dark hair looking down at me. "Sorry miss," he said with a strange accent, gesturing behind me, "Toilets 're closed. Yew'v gotta yewz the sand." I rolled over and saw several other women doing exactly that--but rather strangely. They were lining the edge of the beachfront, where the sand faded into sidewalk, none of them making any attempts to conceal themselves from the dancing crowd. One blonde girl in her mid-20's had pulled her pink shorts down to her knees, squatted and was urinating vigorously all over her own bare feet, splattering violently and darkening the sand beneath her. Another, with auburn hair, was probably in her early 30's. She had a dress, which she left in place as she stood to pee, the liquid trickling down and pooling between her legs. I could tell there were others, who were squatting like the first, but I couldn't make out their features because they were facing away from me, ardently making their own puddles. Nobody seemed to think this out of the ordinary and kept about their business as these women openly released the contents of their bladders. What will my friends think if I do that?! I thought in despair, despite the apparent social acceptability, suddenly remembering my friends for the first time since the start of the dream. I rose to my knees and turned back around to the restroom. This time, a second door that I hadn't seen before had materialized. It was the men's room. I bolted to my feet, the sudden movement miraculously not stressing my bladder at all apparently, and made a mad dash for the door. This one gave way and I entered a very large restroom--far too large for the building I had just entered. Not concerned by the logical bounds of physics, I darted my eyes around and took in my surroundings. On the left, stood a massive row of urinals--probably 30 in total--no privacy screens between them. In the very back of room, there were a handful of stalls, fashioned from strangely elegant wood. To the right, a line of sinks that mirrored the urinals. There were quite a few men around, probably 20-40 in total. Some were relieving themselves into the urinals, penises easily visible, some were washing their hands, and some were dancing to the music. Nobody seemed particularly off-put by my presence in the men's room, nor did the ones at the urinals take offense at my attention to their actively-leaking hardware. Then, I noticed a handful of other guys immediately to my left, who were talking to some women, lined up along the wall next to the door I just entered. Nobody seemed irked by their presence either. One of the ladies proudly boasted, "Look what I can do!" and promptly completed an, admittedly, awe-inspiring (physics defying) back flip. The guys were all very impressed...and not at all phased by the strange nature of women showing off back flips in the men's room. I noted that one of the guys--muscular, with dark hair, brown eyes, and some stubble--was particularly cute. I wasn't about to be one-upped by this girl in front of him, so I cried out, "Oh yeah?! Watch this!" They, including the handsome one, all turned to look at me, presumably expecting some sort of gymnastic feat. Instead, I darted for the nearest urinal, which was currently being used, and pushed the guy out of the way, disrupting the grip on his manhood, causing a splatter of pee before he resumed his business at the next urinal. Then, I unzipped the front of my jeans (I hadn't changed my clothes this time!) somehow maneuvered my clothing so my urethra wasn't occluded (which was honestly probably a more impressive feat than the black flip), and began to pee--through the fly! I sighed with relief and glowed with pride as I looked down, seeing nothing but a urinal between my legs and a jet of urine splattering flawlessly into the porcelain, shooting from between the teeth of my zipper (I didn't even unbutton!). It felt surreal to stand there, peeing just like a guy, but even less exposed, in the middle of the men's room, with a rather attractive audience . Pee continued to pour out perfectly, and I glanced to the side, where I could make out pink protrusions from the guys' pants, gripped gently between their fingers, sprinkling urine into their respective urinals. I wish I'd had the perspicacity to ask them if they wanted to compare sizes . Some of them seemed very startled, others didn't seem to notice (ya know, this kind of thing happens every day, right?!) After several moments of urine tinkling into the basin below, my stream finally came to a spurting end, which, conveniently enough, did not require any wiping, shaking, or drying at all. "Thank you, boys," I said condescendingly with a little curtsy as I zipped up my jeans and turned to face the guy I was trying to impress. Judging from the bulge in his pants, it had worked! As I smugly approached him, he said, "That was nothing," and unzipped his own jeans. I was growing very excited. Things below were tingling very nicely and the room seemed to heat up. He backed up against the sinks and pulled out his long, rigid, penis. I gasped a little and halted in my walk, gently touching my hand to the front of my pants. Then, fully erect, he shot a spurt of pee from the sink and managed to land it in the urinal against the opposite wall (I did warn you this dream was absolutely ridiculous). Urine sprayed majestically from his rigid jewel below and he shot a proud grin at me. I approached cautiously. "May I?" I asked, my eyes darting from his smile to the toy below his belt. He nodded and I gripped it tenderly. The skin was soft, but it felt firm as iron beneath. I could feel the pee coursing through the plumbing within. I was filled with so much excitement, I thought I might explode. I pried my eyes away and looked at the target on the other wall. He was still hitting the urinal, spot-on. With a sly smile, I jerked his penis to the side, sending urine cascading all over the bathroom. I giggled childishly and flicked it around again. Before long, I was waving it all over the place, shooting just about anything I could aim at. It was euphoric! I was filled with such awe...I can hit anything! That is, until my alarm blared and I was aroused to reality with a start (I swear, it's like the alarm sets itself to interrupt the best parts of my favorite dreams! ). Speaking of aroused, however, my panties were soaked--and not with urine. My heart was pounding and I felt like I was on fire. Still dazed and absolutely enraptured by the dream, I climbed out of bed, crossed my room with my legs awkwardly spread in a futile attempt to avoid smearing the juices any more, and bitterly hit my alarm. I made my way to the toilet, where I relieved a very full bladder and cleaned up (and, you guessed it, played a fair bit...which was really unavoidable anyway, given how alive things were down there ). I glanced out the window and noted how dismal the day was--gray and drizzly. I decided then; I didn't want to go anywhere...besides, I had more important things to do. My mind kept flicking back to the end of the dream: The freedom of peeing through a little slit in my pants without spilling a drop...but even more pressingly, the liberation of having a penis. I mean, sure, I didn't actually possess one in my dream, but I got a taste of what it must be like for the male populace by flicking around that one guy's hardware (emphasis on the hard ). Disappointed, I resigned myself to only ever using a penis in my fantasies, but I figured I could make the most of the plumbing I've got (or haven't got)! Today, I would commit myself to cleanly peeing with my pants up, just as well as any guy! I started off with several full glasses of water, and thus the wait began. I grabbed some dirty jeans out of the laundry and threw on a ratty t-shirt, maybe not sexy, but sensible attire for the task at hand. I forewent panties, figuring I needed to leave the trajectory as open as possible. As I waited for my bladder to fill, I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and plotted my strategy. I stood in front of my toilet, spread my legs, and unzipped the fly. This is never going to work. I couldn't see anything but the front of my jeans (duh). I fidgeted with the denim, trying to make just enough of my vulva protrude to give my urethra a clean shot...it clearly wasn't going to happen like this. I probably wrestled with it for a full 5 minutes, trying to find some sort of angle with which I could leave my pants fully up, but get my lady bits semi-exposed. Finally, I resigned my dream to being exactly that: A dream, but I wasn't about to give up entirely. I pulled my jeans about halfway down my butt. The waistband hugged my cheeks tightly, but I wasn't entirely flashing the audience (which, thankfully, was just my toilet and the bathroom wall for now). I pushed down the flaps of my unzipped and unbutton pants, exposing my pubic mound to the toilet lid. I thrust my hips awkwardly forward and leaned awkwardly backward. It's a long shot...but it's worth a try. I pulled my jeans back up, fastened them, took another swig of water, and awaited my bladder. After about an hour, my kidneys were dumping freshly-processed urine into my bladder at a very noticeable rate. I grinned to myself and made my way back to the toilet. I removed my socks, kicked them over to the bathroom door, and threw a towel onto the floor in front of the toilet. Stepping before the porcelain throne, I pulled my jeans about halfway down my butt again and assumed the aforementioned stance, my hips jutting out, my upper body leaning back. I stepped so I was essentially straddling the toilet, but still standing. I messed with the front of my jeans a little, trying to clear the way for my pee stream before I noticed a significant oversight. In restitution, I bent over, lifted the toilet seat, saying, "For the ladies," and let out what was probably a particularly girly giggle. I re-assumed my position and prepared myself for trial 1. I had incredibly poor line-of-sight for the action, but by the way it felt, I knew I was going to shoot pee all over the front of my pants. Mildly frustrated, I pressed firmly against the crotch of my jeans, attempting to push it between my legs. It didn't feel like these efforts cleared much more of the "runway", but "liftoff" was about to proceed anyhow. Worst case, I pee all over myself, the toilet, and the floor and try it again in a few minutes...and that's, more or less, what happened. With a little pressure, a moderate stream of urine found its way out of my urethra...straight onto the front of my jeans. I heard the mellow patter of fluid hitting fabric and felt the familiar warmth of pee gushing all over my hand. I cursed quietly and attempted to reposition, but with little avail. The flood continued to enthusiastically pour from my crotch, rapidly darkening my jeans. I released the front of my pants and attempted to fidget with my labia, hoping I could figure out a way to aim. The results were exactly what you're probably expecting: More pee torrented all over my hands and splattered clumsily into my jeans. Enough had soaked in that I began hearing the soft tinkle of what managed to weave its way out of the fabric and drop into the basin below. Warmth steadily seeped through my attire, sticking to my legs as the dampness descended. I shivered suddenly with a chill, adding even more misfortune to the chaos below. Thus, I stood, soaking my pants until the last few spurts...thwap, thwap...thudded against the fabric of my clothing. The amusement of having flooded my pants and spattered my bathroom quickly overcame the frustration of a failed attempt and I laughed to myself. I peeled my jeans off of my skin and chucked them into the bathtub. I grabbed another towel, dried myself off, and, likewise, threw that into the tub. Bottomless, I washed my hands and made my way to the kitchen (awkwardly dodging around the house to close the blinds I'd forgotten to shut earlier). As I waited for my bladder to gear up for round 2, I made myself a quick breakfast. As such, the day carried on for several hours, each attempt as doomed as the first. Finally, at the end, I simply pulled the pants all the way down to my ankles and had mild success peeing into the toilet from a standing position, but still managed to spray pee all over the place. All in all, it was an incredibly fun, albeit somewhat unsatisfying day! I guess this'll just intensify the penis envy until I can figure out a way to maximize the equipment I've been given