PeerPressure

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PeerPressure last won the day on October 21 2017

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About PeerPressure

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  1. Ladies and Urinals

    Your timing is uncanny!! I literally just tried it for the first time and wrote a story on it!
  2. female My First Urinal Attempt!!

    Heyyy everyone!!! It feels like it's been ages since I've written anything, but to make up for it, I have my crowning pee achievement so far!! I FINALLY ATTEMPTED A URINAL!!! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed doing it (though I hope it's a bit less messy for you )!! Now that I've proofread everything, I recognize I may have gotten a little carried away in my excitement and may have written a little too much! If you're just here for the pee and don't want the background/buildup, skip right to paragraphs 8 and 9! So, it was my birthday yesterday (technically, since it's the wee hours of the morning now) and I decided I was going to do something really awesome to celebrate the big 2.4. As it turns out, the surrounding circumstances were perfect. My parents live in another city pretty far away, but they like to have everybody back home for the holidays, which works out really nicely because I, in turn, get to have everybody around when I celebrate growing older. They don't have a super big place, but they invite a bunch of us, so many end up in a nearby hotel. I could've taken my childhood room, of course, but I like to have my own space at the end of the day (and who doesn't want free room service?), so I opted for the hotel and let someone else have my old room. It was a full night of celebration with family, which was nice, but I knew in the back of my mind that I was going to do something...taboo...afterward, so I drank tons of water for the last few hours. Toward the end, I was going to the bathroom so much that my sister teased me, saying I must have a UTI or something. Little did she know what was really going on . To cut to the chase, it was about 1AM when we all went our separate ways to turn in for the night. Everybody else who was staying at the hotel had gone back around 11 to go to bed, so I didn't have to worry about an awkward encounter with a family member. I peed, like a normal good girl, in the toilet before I headed out, then hopped into my car and drove to the hotel, about 15 minutes away. A few nights before, I scouted the place out to see what opportunities may be available. I was in luck. In a wing off of the lobby, there was a small bar/recreation room tucked away. It wasn't particularly crowded even during the day, so at night, it was always totally deserted. Drinks always equate to urination, so there were two nearby bathrooms: A women's room and, more importantly, a men's room. I was already surging with excitement by the time I pulled into the parking lot. I pulled my keys out of the ignition and dropped them. When I leaned over the pick them up, I noted that my hands were trembling as a result of both the cold and my adrenaline. I drank sufficiently enough to have a mild urge to pee from just the brief trip over, but I wanted to let it build a bit before committing. First, I went up to my room and dropped off all of my things. The corridors were, thankfully, totally vacant. Everything was going perfectly. Afterward, I snuck around the hotel to ensure the cleaning crew wasn't going to be an issue. The only people I saw were the employees at the front desk in the lobby. These activities managed to burn through another 10 or so minutes, so I definitely had to go now. I dashed to the recreation center with a ridiculous grin on my face. There it was. I froze and stared at the door to the men's room for a brief moment, still smiling stupidly. I'm really glad nobody walked in at that moment because it probably would've been pretty creepy! With a final glance around I charged at the door, half expecting it to be locked because everything else had gone so smoothly. To my delight, it wasn't! It's a weirdly surreal feeling to be in the restroom of the opposite sex. On one hand, you know it's just four walls with some porcelain fixtures and it shouldn't be a big deal. On the other hand, it's amazing to rebel against the social behavior that has been drilled into you your entire life. The door shut quietly behind me and I soaked in what was before me as if I were looking at a beautiful sunset rather than some appliances intended to collect urine. Maybe this description is a bit extreme, but to be fair, it was at least much cleaner than the other men's room I visited before . There were two stalls, two sinks, and two urinals. My options certainly were open, but anybody can pee in a stall or into sink on any day. I was here for the urinals, but an unexpected choice presented itself: The tall one or the short one? Before picking one, I checked to see if I could lock the door, just as an extra precaution. Unfortunately, I couldn't, but I wasn't about to let that stop me. My bladder was becoming quite vocal and I was about to relieve it into one of these urinals. I probably put too much consideration into which urinal to use, but I wanted to make sure my "first time" was just right . With my jeans still in place, I stood in front of each one and put my crotch over the protruding lip, contemplating. Despite having practiced hundreds of times in the shower, I had no idea what I was doing--even setting aside the fact that my later practice runs were a moderate success at best. Undeterred, I finally picked the taller one, figuring it would be easier to align myself and that there was less distance for something to go terribly wrong. My hands were shaking as I undid my jeans. I clearly wasn't going to be a marksman tonight. I slid my pants and panties down below my knees, baring my butt toward the rest of the bathroom. How awkward would it be for someone to walk in now? I thought, but quickly dismissed. I spread my legs a little and put my lady bits over the lip of the urinal, trying to gauge just how to manage this. This isn't going to work. I crouched in front of the urinal to undo my shoes so I could full remove my pants and panties. Wearing nothing but socks from my waist down, I clumsily traipsed across the men's room, praying nobody would walk in as I flashed my vulva all around, and put my clothes onto the counter by the sinks. I returned to the urinal for my second aiming attempt. I really had to go now. I huddled as closely as I could to the urinal, spread my legs a bit more, and thrust my hips forward, being extra careful not to come into contact with the porcelain. This awkward position only emphasized my trembling. I tried a few other positions including propping my leg up on the privacy divider and approaching it from an angle, but nothing really seemed fail-proof. Knowing I needed to pick before either my bladder decided for me or somebody walked in on this insanity (or worse, both), I opted for spread legs and forward hips. I've seen pictures and videos of superwomen who are able to pee practically like a guy, but I figured round 1 wasn't going to be quite that graceful for me. With my legs spread unnaturally widely, my hips thrust uncomfortably far forward, and my whole body trembling, I moved my hands to my lady bits. Using both hands, I delicately spread my labia, hoping to clear the path of any obstruction. Without being able to see down there, however, I had no clue what I was doing. "Well, here goes," I muttered to myself and bit my lip. Nothing happened. Despite having to pee really badly and applying pressure to my muscles below, I couldn't even produce a drop. If I have to stand here until my bladder gives in to fatigue, I don't care. I am going to use this urinal! I stood there for what felt like hours, listening to the ticking of my watch shatter the silence every second. My legs were getting sore from being in such a strange position, but finally, a jolt of pee spat into my target! I giggled loudly like a little girl before remembering where I was and shutting up. It was only a brief spurt, but it was enough to get things moving. Before long, it was spurt after spurt and, at last, a steady stream. I was amazed at myself! It was ridiculous, but glorious! Here I was, AT LAST, totally butt-naked from the waist down, with the exception of my socks, totally exposed, in the middle of the men's room, my hips pushed forward, with my urethra shooting pee into a URINAL!! I couldn't see what was happening below, but it seemed to be working! Warm, clear urine cascaded from between my legs and spattered satisfyingly into the fixture below. This urinal was tall enough that I felt a warm mist deflecting back up onto my hands and crotch, but I was too afraid to adjust (guys, do you ever experience this?). It wasn't perfect, of course. The occasional drop would dribble onto one of my thighs and my fingers were dampened every now and then, but I was too engrossed in what I was accomplishing to care. It wasn't long, however, before my trembling and muscle fatigue began to get the best of me. What was the occasional stray drop quickly became the occasional stray spurt. Regardless, I was extremely proud of myself for attempt #1. That is, until I heard a noise behind me. I was so enthralled, I forgot I was in a position of potential immense embarrassment. I immediately shot my head around to see who was there. This, of course, threw off everything down below. My "aim" went awry and one of my fingers slipped, causing my urine flow to become obstructed. At this stage in the game, there was no stopping the train of urine now cascading rapidly down my legs, drenching my socks, and pooling onto the once-clean floor. So many things were happening at once, I nearly lost track. In the brief second I glanced behind me, I noted that there was nobody there...the sound I'd heard was a creak of the building. I literally just peed all over myself because the building was settling . With relief on that account, I diverted back to the new disaster: remedying the mess between my legs. Honestly, there was no point. The damage was done and I might as well have finished urinating all over myself, but in the spur of the moment, I wanted to fix it. I quickly pulled back my labia again, this time soaking my hands pretty thoroughly and splattering fluid all over both the interior and exterior of the urinal. After a brief struggle and a big mess, I finally managed to regain control for the last few seconds of stream, proudly finishing up with a few solid spurts straight into the urinal...as my legs glistened with evidence of my failure. My heart was pounding tremendously. I surveyed the disaster. When I finally took it all in, I laughed hysterically and probably physically glowed with pride. I glanced around for paper towels to begin cleaning myself up. Shoot. They didn't have any. After probably half a roll of toilet paper, I was dry. I made my way back to the sink where my clothes were, my head practically divided into two with a smile. Before grabbing my clothes, I stepped back far enough to see down to my knees in the mirror. I relished in seeing female anatomy in such proximity to a urinal (it never gets old!). For good measure, figuring a little more mess wouldn't make a big difference, I spread my legs and let out another spurt of pee--what had managed to collect in the few minutes I used to clean up--onto the floor. It was funny to see it from a third person perspective. I wiped myself dry again, washed my hands (as if it made a difference with my lower half having been totally soaked in bladder juices moments before), and begrudgingly donned my clothes, sans socks. Not wanting to leave the site of my triumph, I paced back to the urinal for one last look. There was a lot of urine beneath it and the outer side of the lip was splattered with pee. It looked like some drunk guy didn't even try to hit the mark. I quivered with excitement and finally departed, not encountering a single soul on my journey back to my room. I was unbelievably turned on. I wanted to pee all over everything and pleasure myself like there was no tomorrow, but I saved it until I got a warm bath ready, in which I alternated between masturbating and peeing directly in the water whenever I accrued anything in my bladder. I, of course, showered after to get properly cleaned, and then immediately came to my computer to write this up. I hope you all enjoyed it!!! I can still hardly believe I FINALLY DID IT!!!!!
  3. female The Inevitable Movie Urge

    Sounds like it ended up working out okay in the end at least!
  4. female This Isn't Pool Water

    Ahh, that makes sense. Thanks for the insight!!
  5. female The Inevitable Movie Urge

    That's good to know! Definitely want to be wary in the future... Hehe, best of luck!! Yes!! Isn't it exhilarating?!
  6. female The Inevitable Movie Urge

    Hiya everybody!! If you're just here for the pee and aren't interested in the build up, skip down to paragraph 5! Enjoy! We've all experienced the frustration. You're stoked to see a really great movie, you go to the theater, get tickets, sit through the entire thing...until the climax. Then your bladder decides to pipe up and let you know it's time for an unscheduled intermission. It's like magic. It happens every time! This time, I resigned myself to a somewhat unorthodox approach that permitted me to see the entire movie and have wayyyy more fun than a routine bathroom rush . A few weeks ago, I bought myself a dollar theater ticket to Wonder Woman (yes, I'm super late to the party, haha), which I'd been crazy excited to see, but hadn't yet made time for. None of my friends were available the afternoon I decided to see it, which I initially thought was unfortunate, but shortly thereafter discovered was the opposite. Disappointed, I drove to the theater alone (I promise I'm not a loser, hahaha). By the time I ordered a medium water and a small popcorn, I had pushed aside the embarrassing notion that I was going to the movies by myself and excitedly made my way to the corresponding theater. The theater was virtually vacant, with only a couple sitting near the front-center and one guy sitting by himself to the front right. I set my things down 3 or 4 rows behind the couple and, while the obligatory 20 minutes of ads played, I made a quick dash to the ladies' room and preemptively relieved myself, so as to avoid any undesired interruptions. As much as I love this fetish, I wasn't about to let it interrupt Wonder Woman! When I returned, nobody else had entered the theater. Perfect, it was likely to be reasonably quiet and uninterrupted. I nursed my water as the last few minutes of ads continued and the movie finally started. As the movie played on, I didn't spare any of my thoughts on my bladder or the water in my hand. I was perfectly comfortable, moderately drinking away and enjoying the show. 2 hours and 20 minutes, however, can be a pretty long wait for someone who likes to stay well-hydrated. Just over halfway through, I felt the inevitable and, in this rare instance, dreaded urge surfacing. I cursed to myself and insisted I could make it all the way through, just this once. I pushed the urge to the back of my mind, determined to enjoy the movie uninterrupted. This was successful for probably another 20-30 minutes, when it finally became a constant nagging voice. "Dang it!" I thought to myself, "I really need to pee! ...but surely, the movie is nearly over. I can wait until then." It wasn't nearly over. In fact, the climax, of course, kept building, which made me even more determined to stick it out. I seriously considered wetting myself in protest, but didn't want to leave a mess in the seat for anyone who sat in it later. I briefly pondered scooting to the edge of my seat and simply urinating on the floor, but I didn't want my puddle to stream down to the couple in front of me, nor did it seem right to pee on the floor where kids run around regularly. Finally, as I was about to begrudgingly resign myself to a bathroom trip at the climax of the movie, I remembered my cup! The solution was obvious! There was almost nobody in the theater who would catch me, I expected the cup to be plenty big enough to hold everything, and I could avoid making that unwanted dash to the facilities! With my scheme decided, I quickly darted my eyes around the theater. Nobody unexpected had come in. Perfect. I grabbed my cup, which was empty by now except for ice, and removed the lid. All the while, every drop of fluid processed by my kidneys felt like gallons of increased pressure in my bladder. I scooted to the edge of my seat and lifted the front of my skirt just enough to be able to situate everything down below. I positioned the cup under my crotch, which was more challenging than I expected in the dark. With it in place, I pushed my panties to the side, revealing my lady bits to the dark theater. I glanced around again to make sure nobody was catching sight of the ridiculousness. With the coast still clear, I decided to commit, figuring that if anybody happened by, it would probably be dark enough and peeing into a cup is unexpected enough that they would have no idea what I was doing. It took a few moments, but sure enough, a spurt of pee spat out, hit the interior side of the cup, and dribbled down below the ice. I readjusted the cup to put my stream into the center, so as to avoid any mess. I nearly let out a sigh of relief, but caught myself. Confident in the placement of the cup, I looked up at the screen as pee torrented below. I grinned proudly to myself as the cup grew heavier and warm with my pee. The ice crackled as the cup filled and it wasn't long before I heard the tinkling of my pee, indicating the level had risen above that of the ice. Worried somebody might hear and look back, I promptly cut off my stream, but it felt so good to let it loose that I resumed within a few seconds, attempting to pee a bit more gently. The success of my attempts was questionable, at best. I sat there awkwardly, glancing back and forth from the movie to the couple, hoping with all my heart they couldn't hear. Every drop into the cup, to me, was akin to the full force of Niagara Falls, and felt as though it drowned out the movie, though I could tell by everyone's oblivious nature that I was severely overreacting. Finally, after what seemed like ages, I could tell I was nearly empty. As the last bit was trickling out, gently plopping into the cup between my legs, the movie hit a relatively quiet scene. Crap. I felt my face turn blood red as I finished up, the sound now extremely clear to me. Miraculously, nobody seemed to notice even then. With a breath of relief, in regard to both the maintenance of my stealth and the advent of ease on my bladder, I looked down at the cup I bore just below my exposed vulva. I smirked at how much I had deposited into it. I reached over and grabbed a napkin that I had been given with my popcorn, wiped myself dry, tossed it into the cup, which I sealed with the lid and returned to the cup holder. I scooted back into my seat, but let myself sit exposed just a moment longer than necessary, basking in the surreal feeling as I took in the movie. Finally, deciding I'd had enough fun, I slipped my panties back into place and pushed my skirt back over my nether region. The movie, at last, drew to a glorious close. I grabbed my pee-filled cup, dashed out of the theater, disposed of the cup at the nearest trash can and smiled to myself that I'd managed to not only get away with peeing in a very taboo situation, but also make it through an entire movie without having to take a bathroom break . I've gotta say, between this experience and the time I peed in my car, I've become incredibly fond of disposable cups!
  7. female This Isn't Pool Water

    That sounds exciting!! I'm sorry if this is too personal, and if you're not comfortable answering, that's perfectly okay, but I'm curious: Do you ever worry about erections in situations like that? I find peeing in taboo situations an intense turn-on and, while I've always been envious of that little bit of extra plumbing guys have, I've been thankful I can urinate so discreetly. It's strange, but being able to just let it flow down my legs is freeing in its own way.
  8. female This Isn't Pool Water

    Thank you for your kind words!! And wow!! The thought of that is incredibly exciting (albeit a bit embarrassing)! Hehe, if it weren't, I would've been waaaaayyyy more cautious! That's a perfect time!
  9. female This Isn't Pool Water

    Thank you!! I've had some close calls, but haven't quite been caught yet. I generally tried not to intentionally be this risky until fairly recently. I think a combination of being able to share my experiences here and finding out how much I love the adrenaline rush are kinda egging me on! That's still pretty thrilling! Thanks!! And I think so...it's easier to get away with it when there are tons of people around which makes it more exciting! Not to mention, they're meant to get wet anyway, so dealing with the mess isn't as big of a nuisance. Glad you liked it!! That was my favorite part. I'm hoping for the opportunity to do it again sometime! And yes! That's the perfect time because nobody has any idea!
  10. female This Isn't Pool Water

    Heyyy all! It's been a while, so I figured I'd update you with one of my more exciting adventures of recent times!! Per usual, if you just want the peeing and don't care about the build up, skip to paragraphs 3, 5, and 6! Three or four days ago, after a long shift at work, I felt the urge to blow off some steam in an...unconventional...way . As usual, I had been hydrating well throughout the day, but I knew I wanted to do something pee-related with my evening, so I didn't permit myself the customary restroom break before heading home. The urge wasn't too bad when I finally barged through my front door and chucked my keys onto the table, but I knew it would be coming sooner than later. Quickly, I darted to my room and stripped out of my outfit for the day. I, in the midst of an embarrassing amount of horniness , briefly considered making a puddle as I stood nearly naked in the middle of the floor, but after a brief moment of hesitation, my lack of will to clean up the mess won out. Instead, a different idea came over me and I shuffled through my drawers until I found my swimsuit, which I proceeded to don. There's a fitness facility near my house, complete with indoor pool that I frequent, and I thought it might be fun to take my pee there. Despite it being entirely too cold, I threw one of my running skirts over my bikini bottoms and compensated by wearing a heavy hoodie. With that, I grabbed a spare set of clothes, downed the contents of my water bottle, refilled it, and set off! When I pulled into the gym parking lot fifteen minutes later, though I wasn't yet bursting, I could feel the urgency rising. It was chilly enough to prevent anybody from hanging out in the parking lot, which worked in my favor. Conversely to everyone else, I parked as far away from the doors as I could and grinned cheesily to myself. As I enjoyed a few extra fleeting moments of warmth in my car, I chugged down my water bottle. It was agonizing. I could hear and feel the water sloshing in my stomach as I opened the door and rose to my feet. The cool air nipped at my skin and I shivered as goosebumps developed. I glanced about to ensure nobody was around. The coast was clear. It was time to warm up my legs . I still have difficulty convincing my bladder to let me wet myself in public situations, so despite my rapidly-processing kidneys and active attempt to alleviate the ever-growing pressure, it took a bit of effort. I loitered nonchalantly (Who am I kidding? It was probably the most conspicuous thing in the world) by my car and tried to open the flood gates. After several seconds that seemed to stretch into hours, the chill below was met by a spurt of warmth. The first jet of pee seeped tantalizingly into my bikini bottoms, which pressed warmly against my lady bits. With a little more coercing, the juices were finally flowing. I shook with chills as cascades of warmth overflowed my swimsuit and began finding their way down my legs. I subtly smiled to myself and began making my way, very slowly, for the gym door, a task which proved easier said than done. It never fails to be an exhilarating, but extremely peculiar sensation to walk while gushes of pee pour out of my nether regions, drench my legs, and spatter to the ground. As the pee reached my feet, it was swiftly wicked up by the fabric of my socks until one of my old, ratty shoes satisfyingly squelched with every step. As I nervously glanced around to ensure there were no witnesses, I quietly admired the trail of drops and splatters that followed me to the door. I had underestimated how badly I needed to relieve myself. I was nearly to the gym before the last few drops found their way out. My legs glistened with wetness. I checked in and made my way to the locker room, not garnering anything more than a brief glance in passing. I was amazed at how oblivious people are to everything around them. A grown 23-year-old woman just peed herself like a little girl, legs shimmering with wetness, yet nobody had a clue. A sense of accomplishment welled inside me as I rounded the corner into the locker room and found a place to stash my effects. It was weirdly empty for a weekday evening. I shrugged it off, preoccupied with the pleasure of a wet patch hugging my crotch, and drank another quarter bottle before making my way out to the pool. I plunged into the water and began swimming. I had perhaps gotten a little carried away with my fluid consumption. Within 10 minutes, the urge was making itself known again. There were a handful of people swimming, including one guy who seemed to have trouble keeping his eyes to himself (Or perhaps it was just a combination of my paranoia and an underlying desire for attention ), so I had to be discreet, but I was confident I could still get away with a little fun. I gave it another 2-3 minutes before I finally surrendered to my bladder and climbed out of the pool. I sat on one of the metal benches near the pool and prepared myself for round two. As I dripped with pool water, I soon also dripped with urine, both of which mixed on the seat and found their way to the floor. A surge of adrenaline shot through me and tangled up my innards as clear pee poured out of my bikini, unbeknown to any of the onlooking bystanders. I tried, frivolously, to contain that I was trembling with excitement. Thankfully, nobody seemed to acknowledge it. The guy shot a glance over at me as I was going at full blast. I shyly smiled and he quickly turned away. I found it difficult to finish peeing. With every "final" spurt, there seemed to be more to replenish it. Finally, I gave up and rose from my seat. The puddle I left behind was far more than feasible to pass as residual pool water dripping from a relatively small female. I dove back into the pool and swam for a few minutes until the urge struck again. In order to spread out the fun a little more, I stopped waiting for urgency. I peed on the poolside, in the pool, while jumping in, while swimming underwater--it was amazing!! At one point, I got out, faced the wall, and pulled my bikini to the side so I could admire the flow with my eyes as it saturated the floor and my butt. Finally, when I'd had enough (and the urges finally weren't practically every five minutes), I made my way back to the locker room, laughing to myself that the poor guy had no idea how many times I'd peed with him watching me. In the locker room, I noted again that it was deserted. One final devilish hoorah sprang to mind as I peeled off my wet swimsuit. I was totally alone--nobody could stop me . I had a little residual urine--not a ton, but enough. I stood there, naked, in the middle of the locker room, closed my eyes, and let it flow. I barely contained a childish giggle as pee splattered the floor beneath me and dripped down my legs one final time for the night. It wasn't enough to leave an impressive puddle, but it was plenty to provide a thrill. I quickly rinsed off in the shower, making great effort to not touch myself too much, threw on my dry clothes, and made my way home, glowing with excitement.
  11. Heyyy everyone!! Got another story for ya! This one's pretty long, but it's a 2-for-1! If you want to skip the build up and get straight to the pee, go to paragraph 5 for the first part and paragraph 7 for the second. Hope you enjoy!! Earlier this week, I went out of town for an event. It wasn't far enough to justify the cost of flying, but with a 8-hour drive one way, it was plenty far enough to enjoy some pee fun along the way! I made it to the event without incident, but the same can't quite be said for the return . Needless to say, after the drive there and the event itself, I was pretty toasted by the end of the day, so I checked into a motel and stayed the night. I'm not much of a morning person, so I figured, with a day off from work and some time in a fresh city, what's the rush? I slept in and enjoyed some time around town before I dragged myself back to the car at about 4PM. Both for health purposes and the obvious pleasures that coincide, I try to keep pretty thoroughly hydrated throughout the day. Today was no exception. I had run by a gas station during my excursion downtown and filled one of those "Big Gulp" cups to the rim with water and had been nursing it throughout the day. I knew I'd have to stop a few times on my way back, but that didn't bother me too much. I made a quick preemptive run to the bathroom and, with all of my things packed into the back seat and my "Big Gulp" cup by my side, I set off for the long journey home. One thing I didn't account for: Rush hour. I'm not accustomed to taking days off in the middle of the week, and rush hour isn't a huge deal where I live, so it didn't even occur to me to consider other people's commutes home. An hour in, and I was totally gridlocked on the highway. Brilliant. To make matters worse (or better? I guess it depends on your perspective ), I was gradually becoming aware of my increasing need to urinate. I wasn't about to explode just yet, but I knew I needed to find a solution--and quickly. I glanced around nervously. Moving wasn't realistic at this point, let alone getting to an exit and finding a place to relieve myself. I comforted myself with delusions that this traffic jam may clear up any time and that, if I just managed to distract myself, I'd be fine. I cranked up my radio and began singing along with it. Boston, anyone? I was going to be okay. I glanced over to the car next to me and saw the driver chuckling at me singing to myself. I grinned at her and carried on, knowing I needed to distract myself. The problem here being that, by focusing on my need to distract myself, I emphasized my growing need to pee that much more. "It's okay," I told myself, "You don't need to go that badly just yet." Another 20 minutes passed and we'd barely made any headway. Every time we crept forward, my heart would leap, only to tumble back down into my depths of my stomach when we stopped again. It seemed, according to the radio, there was a minor accident ahead that was slowing things down even more. Little did they know, there was a serious possibility of a different kind of accident occurring between my legs. By now I'd abandoned any hope of distracting myself. I was swaying back and forth and fidgeting, the urge to pee feeling pretty severe by now. I was frantically looking around for solutions. Sure, I could just wet myself in my car, but as much as I love my fetish, I love the condition of my car more. With that possibility ruled out, there wasn't much left. I was foolish enough to wear jeans today instead of a skirt, meaning that if I stepped out of my car, any wetting would be blatantly obvious to all who sat idly around me. Similarly, I couldn't exactly bare my lady bits for all of the commuters to watch cascades of urine gush from them. That left one option. My eyes fell onto my "Big Gulp" cup as my hand found its way to my crotch. I didn't like the idea of attempting this in my car, but I had no other option. I took my hand from my crotch and grasp the cup. Shoot. It still had a little water. I briefly considered chucking the water out the window, but wanted to hold off in case I needed to dispose of my pee without suspicion. Nothing else to do, I chugged the last little bit. By now, it was urgent. I bobbed back and forth as I undid my seatbelt. I quickly glanced around to ensure there were no tractor trailers or other tall vehicles around me--as badly as I had to go, I wasn't about to give a free show (not that I really had a choice, looking back now). Hallelujah. Only sedans surrounded me. I hurriedly undid my jeans and tried to discreetly pull them down. This was going to be a challenge. Maybe if I removed my shoes? Just then, the woman behind me honked. I jumped, startled, nearly peeing myself right then. We had gained a whopping 10 feet. I pulled up behind the car in front of me and set the hand brake. My hand firmly in place upon my nether regions, I frantically took off my shoes and tossed them into the passenger seat. Next, the jeans came off, revealing my blue panties. I seriously hoped nobody could see what I was doing, but I didn't care enough at the time to check. With every second that passed by, my bladder ballooned that much more, threatening to soil my car. Next came the panties, revealing my bare downstairs for anyone who happened to have a tall enough ride. I grabbed the cup and tried to position it. How exactly was I going to manage this? The steering wheel was proving problematic. What I would've given at this moment to have a penis. In my frustration, I glanced up to make sure the traffic hadn't moved. Thankfully, it was stationary. I looked back down at my predicament. "Okay," I muttered, "Let's try this." I slid forward a bit, getting my butt off of the seat, and pressing my abdomen against the steering wheel. "This is gonna have to work." I said at last. I positioned the cup beneath where I hoped my urethra would spill, and let loose. Within about a second, the floodgates had burst open and a rush of pee shot (thankfully) straight into the cup, pattering loudly as it accumulated at the bottom. "Oh my gosh," I exclaimed with relief as the cup grew heavier with my pee. It was a really bizarre sensation to be sitting there, surrounded by so many people, peeing into a cup, of all things, in my car. I closed my eyes and put my head back as the spurt continued below. After a moment, the cup was getting heavy enough that I had to grab the bottom of it with my free hand. It felt warm and enticing in my grip. I smiled as the last few dribbles emerged and found their way to the steamy pool below. It was then I remembered I was still supposed to be driving. I glanced up nervously. Thankfully, the traffic still hadn't budged. Unfortunately, I hadn't thought ahead to the toilet paper predicament. Fortunately, I wore panties that day and could let them sop up what remained. I cautiously placed the cup back into its holder and admired my handywork as I pulled my panties up and dabbed myself dry. There was still quite a bit of space in the cup, but the pee was pretty clear, meaning I could probably dispose of it without too much suspicion, should the need arise. I nervously glanced outside my car again, but thankfully everyone was totally oblivious, playing on their phones or fidgeting around with papers. I didn't bother putting my jeans back on, figuring I'd need to pee again before getting out of this mess of traffic. Instead, I covered my lap with them, obscuring my nearly-nude lower half in case any tall vehicles passed me. It turned out this was a wise move, as I had to use the cup several times again before getting out of that jam. Thankfully, I only needed to dump it out my window once. After tacking about 2 hours onto my drive, I finally managed to get out of that traffic fiasco (lesson learned for future trip planning). Much of the rest of the trip was fairly uneventful. Despite the fond feelings I have developed for it by then, I disposed of my cup at my next stop. All of my efforts to relieve myself were done at gas stations and rest stops from that point forward, but my last one was particularly notable. It was 1AM. I was about an hour from home and nobody was on the road. I had enough pee that I could go, but it wasn't super urgent. Regardless, by this point I was excited about my pee endeavors of the day, but totally mind-numbed and frazzled from the drive. I was exhausted, so when I saw a rest stop by the side of the road, I took the opportunity. I wanted to do something naughty--anything. It was deserted and it didn't seem like anyone would be making any surprise visits...soooo...why not pop into the men's room and give it a go? I did a quick walk around the stop to make sure there wasn't anybody who I might've overlooked. The coast was clear. I made my way to the door and stood outside. This would be my first time using a multi-occupancy men's room and, even though I knew the probability of someone walking in on me was next to naught, I still felt a jolt of adrenaline. My heart surged as I pushed open the door. The light flicked on and revealed several urinals and several stalls, opposing a row of sinks. It was cleaner than I was anticipating, especially compared to the single-occupancy men's room I've used at a gas station near my home. I felt a sense of urgency, not to pee, but to hurry, just in case anybody happened upon me. My heart pounded in my chest as I considered where I would pee. I could use a stall in any old bathroom, so I didn't want to do that. I'm still not confident enough in my skills to attempt a urinal (someday). I scanned the room before me, with my eyes ultimately landing on a floor drain in the middle of the bathroom. Perfect. I quickly fumbled to get my lower clothing off, taking care not to step onto the floor with my socks (I shudder to think of what bacterial horrors lie there). I shuddered with excitement as I set my clothes onto the paper towel dispenser and made my way, butt-naked, to the floor drain. I squatted over it and noted that I was trembling as I attempted to position myself (funny how such a simple thing can cause such excitement!!). Finally, I let 'er rip! Here I was, squatting right in front of a bunch of urinals, leaking my bladder into a floor drain. I giggled with delight and tried, with no success, to calm down my trembling. I felt a cool spatter bouncing back from the drain cover and showering my thighs. I adjusted to alleviate this, missing the drain a bit in the process, sending a bit of pee spurting outward and forming a small puddle on the floor. Unfortunately, the last little bit came to a dribbly end far too soon. I stood up to grab some toilet paper and laughed when I caught a glance of myself in the mirror, my naked vulva dripping with pee, contrasting the men's toilets in the background. I'm not gonna lie, I felt a small and strange sense of pride for being there (girl power?). I retrieved the toilet paper, wiped myself clean, including my thighs, and stood once more before the mirror. I knew I should be quick, but I wanted to savor the image just a bit longer (really mature, I know). I fiddled with myself very briefly for good measure, then put my clothes on and washed up. Drunk with triumphant delirium, I pointed at the urinals as I left and proclaimed, "Soon!" I left the bathroom, looking back at the "Men" sign on my way out. The cool evening breeze hugged me as I trod back to my car. Despite being very tired by that point, the excitement carried me the rest of the way home.
  12. female Liquid Leg Warmers

    Thank you!! That really means a lot to me!
  13. female Liquid Leg Warmers

    Got another wetting tale for you all!! This was yesterday's adventure. If you want to skip over the buildup/background and get straight to the wetting, I suggest jumping to paragraph 4! It was one of those days. You all know them. The clouds heavily loomed overhead, weighing down the sky, the grayness weighing down everyone's mood. To make matters worse, the October chill was hanging in the air. It was a mediocre day at work, everyone's demeanor as drab as the day. When I pulled into my apartment at the end of the day, I wanted some excitement to get my spirits up and my heart pounding. My last pee-related excursion outside of the four walls that confine my apartment was my trek into the men's room just over a week ago. I was long overdue. At roughly 5:30PM, it was still too early to attempt another dash into the men's room (I'm not bold enough just yet to try it in daylight), and I didn't feel like waiting until nightfall to get my fun in. I dragged myself out of my work clothes and looked through my closet for something a bit more appropriate for some incognito public wetting...something I hadn't yet checked off of my list. Sure, I've peed while running, wet my bikini at the beach, done the classic duck behind a bush to relieve myself, and even almost gotten caught by a group of guys while watering a parking garage floor (a story for another time, perhaps? ), but I'd never done any real, totally intentional, good ol' classic panty-wetting while walking around town. What better time to give it a shot than when everything's already wet? I could have as much fun as I wanted and nobody would have a clue! I slipped into a nice, warm, gray sweater and pulled a totally weather-inappropriate black skirt over a pair of cheap pink panties, and I was all set! Though I, very intentionally, hadn't urinated for the last few hours at work, I downed a few glasses of water for good measure and grabbed a bottle for the road. I glanced out the window--only a very light drizzle. Perfect. I left my umbrella where it lay in my closet and stepped out into the chilly air. The cool air nipped at my legs, giving me goosebumps, but I smiled to myself, knowing that I would soon have the means to warm them back up. I decided to make my way to some nearby shops to peruse any new holiday decorations they had on display. It was surprisingly crowded in town for such a dismal day, a prospect that made me tingle with excitement and nervousness. On occasion, I would stop at a store window and look in. I could feel myself shaking. No matter how many times I pee myself or experiment in some way with my urine, every new endeavor is practically like my first time, sending jolts of adrenaline through me and turning my stomach inside out. The thrill was building, but the urge to relieve myself was developing more slowly than I anticipated. Figuring I must be less hydrated than I initially thought, I nursed on my bottle. Some time went by. It was pushing 6:20 by the time my bladder alerted me to my need to seek out the facilities, a need that was joyously denied. The drizzle was long finished by now, my brunette hair made sleek by a only faint layer of moisture. I smiled at people as I passed them on the sidewalk, wondering what they would do if they knew the woman sweetly greeting them was about to pee all over herself in the middle of a relatively busy street. 6:30; the urge was growing rapidly now, as was the gnawing of hunger in my stomach. It just so happened that, as an idea flourished in my mind, these two primal urges coincided wonderfully. I found a truck vendor selling burritos and decided to kill two birds with one stone. Why not wet myself while ordering my meal? A smirk snuck across my face as soon as the thought flashed through my mind--talking to some totally oblivious cashier with a trickle down my leg, soaking my legs and filling my shoes with warm splendor. A surge of energy shot through me, electrifying my nerves, kicking my heart into overdrive. I made my way over to the truck, my heart pounding in my throat, and took my place in line, taking note of all the people around and questioning if I should follow through. "What's the worst that can happen?" I thought to myself, "Everything is already thoroughly drenched and besides, my legs could use a little extra warmth." I waited for my turn and, at last, made my way to the window, trying to hide my trembling (and, at this point, reasonably-strong urge to empty the contents of my bladder). As I was talking to the cashier, I began pushing. The muscles refused to cooperate. It was as if I had forgotten how to pee! He said something to me, but I missed it, obviously distracted. "Ma'am?" He questioned. "I'm sorry," my attention snapped back to him, though I maintained some focus on getting the gears moving downstairs. He repeated his question and I answered, my panties still bone-dry, but my bladder urging me to let go. He stepped away for a minute, presumably to get my order ready. I kept at it, trying to release the fluid. As he came back to take my money, the first spurts of warm urine finally burst through, albeit briefly, instantly soaking into my panties. I cracked a smile at this feat, and realizing I probably looked mental just smiling to myself, tried to play it cool like I was smiling at him. With a bit more effort as I reached into my purse to get the money, I managed to release a bit more, most of it still caught in my panties. The warm, wet, fabric stuck enticingly to my vulva. I handed him a couple of bills, my hands visibly shaking. He looked at me, concerned, and asked, "Are you alright, ma'am?" I assured him everything was fine as my spurts, at last, broke into a stream. The flood exited around the crotch of my panties as the warmth spread slightly up my butt. I heard a faint pattering between my legs from some stray pee that had fallen from the center of my crotch. I quickly jolted my legs together, directing all of the pee down my thighs. I nervously looked around to see if anyone had noticed. If they had, they pretended not to--most everyone with their eyes glued to their phones. I could feel my face turning red hot as cascades of pee delivered life-giving warmth back to my chilly legs, finally and soaking into my socks. He handed me my change and bid me a good evening, a courtesy I returned as I turned away, my liquid leg warmers still at work. My shoes now squished with every step, drawing no attention, under the guise that I must've stepped into a puddle. A few seconds later, as I unwrapped my burrito and took my first bites, the warm trickle from my urethra concluded at last. I glanced down nonchalantly, my face still burning ferociously, even warmer than the wet, tingly, lady bits that lay beneath my skirt. My legs were very obviously wet, but on a day like today, I figured nobody would second guess it. This still didn't stop my heart from pounding relentlessly. I walked around a bit as I ate, the warmth of the pee that covered my legs sapping away into the cool evening air. I spilled bits of my burrito in between drinks of water as I traipsed around a bit more. Finally, even my crotch matched the damp chill of the air. Not to fret, however, for by 7:00, my water consumption paid off and I was ready to go again! I turned and made my way toward home, excitement still rushing through me as I replayed the puzzled look on the vendor's face, his oblivious nature as I casually peed all over my own legs right in front of him and even a line of other people!! The thrill of such a taboo action, but everybody in complete ignorance! As I walked past the last few shops on the street, I looked at the people around me, smiling, and began pushing again. Like before, it took effort (I guess after a lifetime of conditioning, it's not particularly easy to pee yourself in front of total strangers), but it came a bit more easily this time. I nodded a cheerful greeting to a couple I passed as that familiar warmth flooded my panties yet again, overflowing and making its way downward. I shook with a chill as the pee spread across my legs yet again, some of it spattering onto the ground, indistinguishable, to the uninformed eye, from my splashing steps. Here came that shot of adrenaline again. I almost wanted to jump for joy, and likely would have if it wouldn't have entailed showering my pee all over everything and drawing unnecessary attention to myself. Inversely correlated with the level of fluid in my bladder, my level of excitement, if you get what I mean, increased as pee jet into my panties. I wanted so badly to rub myself right there as I leaked, but refrained. Again, the last few drops came to a sputtering end, the warm wetness clinging to my legs and, more pleasurably, my nether region . At last, as I arrived at the doorstep of my apartment, my legs, crotch, and butt were quite cold, heightening the sexual sensations as they glistened with moisture. I hurriedly burst through my door, stripped out of my wet clothes, and made my way to a warm shower, reiterating the events of the evening over and over in my head. You can be sure as heck I gave some special attention to my tingling anatomy as a reward for a fantastic close to an otherwise dreary day. Finally, before shutting off the water, I had just enough pee to complete my newly-customary attempt to pee standing during every shower (and admittedly, sometimes when I'm just bored and not showering ). It was a moderate success, though still not quite enough of one to attempt the toilet just yet. Hope you all enjoyed reading about this thrilling experience! Until I finally manage to use a urinal, it's going to be challenging to find an experience that parallels this!
  14. Sharing a Toilet?

    Thank you for sharing!! It was an enjoyable read! I guess that makes sense that things wouldn't get moving down there while you're in pain. If you don't mind me asking, did you ever try it again when you weren't as desperate?
  15. Sharing a Toilet?

    I'd actually wondered about that. Guess it depends on who you're with whether that's a positive or negative hahaha.