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Found 4,924 results

  1. https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5a4ae21bd1493
  2. Jailor Eckman

    Could Ya Help a Girl Out?

    From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    Orientation sucks. Doubly so if you had a large ice tea before the unnecessarily long commencement ceremony! It looks like she's coming to terms with that fact right about now. How desperate do you think she had to get before she even considered asking a stranger for help? I wanted to work on my skill with color for this one. I hope it didn't turn out too bad! My aim was to depict a brief but believable instance of desperation.
  3. warning nudity https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5be3b6da18f9e
  4. It is Alisha’s birthday, and Sosha has a very special present in store for her friend. One might even say the present is worth its weight in “gold.” For her birthday, Sosha gives Alisha a sexy lap dance, pees on her, then eats her out. In this video, we get to watch Sosha give Alisha a special treat for her birthday. Alisha is sitting on a chair when Sosha comes in, wearing a naughty outfit, and puts on some sexy music. She then gives Alisha a playful lap dance. Then, she stops dancing, pulls up her skirt, and pees through her blue panties onto Alisha’s lap. After peeing on Alisha, Sosha pulls off Alisha’s pants and goes down on her. She performs oral sex on Alisha until Alisha climaxes. After Alisha cums, Sosha says she is going to clean everything up and asks Alisha to go get ready to go out to dinner.
  5. ♥Arie♥🇫🇮

    female Panty Wetting on Carpet (pics)

    I got bored a few nights ago and decided to soak the carpet floor by wetting my thin, black panties. I had been holding it in since lunch around 12 PM and it was about 8 in the afternoon when I wet myself. I didn't really feel up to doing desperation photos, especially since I kinda just sat there and peed. But anyway, here are the photos I took. They're not that great since I had to stretch my arm behind my back in order to take the pictures, so I apologize for the blur. Probably the largest puddle I've had so far.
  6. My favorite wetting videos are the ones where girls pee themselves and there is a very loud hiss as she does it. The force of the urine leaving her body drives me wild but they're pretty hard to come across from just doing basic searches. What are the best wetting videos (and diapers too) with pee hissing? I'm a straight guy but if there are some videos of guys wetting diapers with a loud hiss I wouldn't really mind
  7. View File DLEE-253: Woman Leaking in the Streets Trying to Hold It This is part 1 and 3 of another Jade video featuring ladies unable to hold their pee long enough to find a toilet. The ladies duck into an alley and have massive wetting accidents in their panties and pantyhose, resulting in embarrassing wet shorts and skirts along the way. There is also a "bonus" scene with a young lady dashing into the alley and wetting her shorts. If anyone is able to get a hold of part 2 of this video, I am sure the community would appreciate it. Enjoy! Submitter femdesp Submitted 11/12/2018 Category Public wetting Clothing Skirt
  8. https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5b3f3ab97f901
  9. rachelkirwan

    female Caught Short with No Change

    Well, it’s been a while since I’ve shared an experience, and also, I wanted to share something pretty special, as I noticed I was getting very close to my 8000th post! This is quite a milestone and well, I hope you will all celebrate with me, by sharing more sexy wetting content and if you are interested, buying a pair of my dirty panties! I’m going to do a couple of posts and a video dump to celebrate, so here is my experience. I’ve had a couple of very hard months at work; a bunch of volunteers left and I’ve been scrambling to fill their roles. As such, I’ve been pretty busy and haven’t had much time for fun kinky stuff. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve still had some sexy times with the hubby, and certainly watched some porn and masturbated with toys and all that, but I haven’t had a chance to do elaborate or public. Well, the other day I finally had some time off, and decided to go shopping at MetroTown. This is a big mall complex not too far from our place. I also decided to have a little bit of desperation fun while I was doing it, or rather, I kind of decided to have some desperation fun mid-way through running errands. Here’s what happened. It’s been getting chillier here, so I’ve started wearing trousers a lot more. But this day, it was bright and sunny out, which offered the perfect, and perhaps the last, opportunity to wear a nice skirt (without leggings). After lounging around the flat for a while and doing some house work, I decided to head out and deal with the growing list of small errands. I pulled on a cute dark grey pleated skirt,, the white cotton panties I’d been wearing under my PJs all morning. I buttoned up a lavender blouse, threw on a cardigan, and picked up a larger backpack to accommodate my shopping. I pulled my wallet out of my purse, grabbed a couple of items that were piled up by the door, threw in a couple of cloth shopping bags, and wandered off to the Skytrain to hop down to MetroTown. It was about 11 am by the time I arrived at the mall (it’s huge by the way), and I headed off to the washroom, as I’d forgotten to go before leaving my flat. I used the one nearest the Skytrain, which I always find the yuckiest, but it was close, and I kind of had to go. Hovering over the toilet, I noticed that my panties were already a little dirty/sticky from the trip over and the mornings activities. I love how white cotton shows every little stain. I then headed up to the second level to return a sports bra to the sporting goods store. My sister had bought it for me and well, she wasn’t aware that my breasts have grown since going on birth control (a long time ago), and she still apparently bought me a bra using my size from like more than a decade ago. I wasn’t impressed with their sports bras, and so I wandered around the mall, visiting a couple of shops until I found something really comfy and supportive from Lululemon. This took more than an hour, and so rather than getting into some serious shopping, I headed off to Blenz coffee on the main floor. I grabbed a big matcha late, and sat down, drinking the whole thing and watching people bustling by. Sometimes it’s fun to just sit and watch the world go by, and it certainly is when doing so is a luxury. During this time, my mind wandered, and I had a few naughty thoughts. Completely filled up on green tea, I headed out once more. I probably should have planned out my trip a little better, as I ended up wandering all over the mall, grabbing items off my list and doing a little browsing. Half an hour after leaving the coffee shop, I could feel myself filling up. I could have easily ducked into one of the many washrooms around the mall, but I was starting to feel a little naughty. I was at about a 6 on the desperation scale, the point where I would normally always head straight to the washroom, but decided to have a little bit of public desperation fun. It sort of flowed on from the things I had been contemplating at the coffee shop. I didn’t have a concrete plan, but I did feel like getting up to some naughty mischief. Maybe just some desperation perhaps? I continued browsing through some shops and felt myself getting increasingly desperate. I headed into Chapters and looked through some of the new arrivals and non-fictions sections. By the time I was checking out the always poorly populated philosophy section, I was at a 7. I played up my desperation, allowing myself to display my need to pee in subtle, mildly exhibitionistic ways. A little foot jiggle here, tightly crossed legs when I paused to look at a book, that sort of thing. To the keen observer, I would have likely appeared to be an antsy book browser. The problem is of course that browsing for books is certainly the kind of thing that you can just stop doing and use the washroom, so I decided to get back onto my pre-schedule list of errands. I headed over to T&T, the huge Asian food supermarket, and began filling a basket with items off my list. Having an almost-full basket of things is a great reason not to use the toilet. I worked my way methodically through the store, my desperation mounting to a solid 8 by the time I reached the tea section. I was playing up my desperation beyond an 8 though, for effect, and because of the little thrill of excitement that I got from knowing that other people around me in the shop could see that I had to pee. My actions were less subtle at this point, given my mounting real desperation. I was not at the point of holding myself, but I would twist my legs together whenever I stopped to look for something, and this was often followed by dancing on the spot. I spotted the sidelong glances of other patrons around me when I jiggle about. My basket was mostly full and I only had a couple more items to purchase by the time I made it to the noodle isle. I was still at a solid 8 on the desperation scale, but acting like I was a 9.5. I put down my basket, crossed my legs, and did slip my hand firmly between my thighs as I pondered the noodle selection. There are so many options and the packaging is always confusing (and it’s typically not in English, so you really have to look at the ingredients if you are looking for something specific. I found a couple that I was looking for, and put them, one-handed, into my basket, all the while holding myself firmly. A younger Asian man came around the corner as I was depositing the final pack of noodles into my basket, curtsey-style, so as not to put too much pressure on my bladder, or flash my panties at anyone. As soon as I saw him I whipped my hand out from between my legs, though I could tell from his look that he had noticed. I quickly retrieved my basket and hurried off, flushing a little and too embarrassed to look back to see if he was watching me. I still had a couple of items on the list, but my feigned extreme desperation was kind of getting to my head (and bladder), and I was at that ‘find a bathroom now!’ stage of desperation. I went to get the final item on my list – dumpling wrappers in case you care – before heading to the checkout. There was of course a line, though not a very long one and I wiggled and crossed my legs with increasingly real desperation (about an 8.5) as I waited for the two people ahead of me to check out. After the first person wrapped up, which seemed like it took far too long, I was able to unload my basket on to the little conveyor belt. This done, I could hold the empty basket in one hand in front of my crotch, to cover up the fact that my second hand had snaked its way between my thighs and was once again pressing the thick fabric of my skirt into my vagina. The additional pressure didn’t seem to help too much, and I was still very rapidly wiggling my thighs and legs. While I tried not to make eye contact with the people around me, I was acutely aware of their looks. My heart rate increased and I had those sexy and fluttery little butterfly feelings that I love and hate so much about embarrassing public situations. The person in front of me was a middle-aged woman, and she had a full shopping cart. I had noticed her giving me a sympathetic look when she began unloading her cart a little while ago. I think out of solidarity with me and my obvious desperate plight, she hurried along her interaction. The checkout person was a teen or university student, and she also gave me a sympathetic look. This made me blush even more and look away, concentrating on carefully arranging my items on the conveyor belt to maximize how fast I could load my backpack. I did not notice the two other people who had lined up behind me, only that they were there, boxing me in, preventing my dashing off and simply abandoning my groceries. As the woman ahead of me fumbled in her purse for her credit card, I switched from holding myself (which was really not as discreet as I had thought), to using both hands to prep my backpack and doing a little pee pee dance. I was so caught up with my own predicament – no longer feigned – that I didn’t notice the man behind me asking for a little grocery divider, and instead, the checkout girl had to give him one. I noticed too late and in classic Canadian style apologized, mumbling something like, ‘ah sorry.’ He said ‘no worries’ and went about pretending to ignore the fact that I was wiggling about in front of him in the checkout line, desperate to pee. The woman ahead of me finally completed her transaction and headed on her way, with one last sympathetic look over her shoulder at me. I reached the checkout girl. I had already removed my wallet from my backpack to speed up the interaction. “Hello, how is your day going?” I asked in a meek kind of voice. “Not bad, thanks.” She replied curtly, and began rapidly scanning my items. I prayed that nothing would need a price check or any such complication. “How about yours?” She responded. “Oh not so bad…” I replied vaguely. “Did you find everything you needed?” She inquired. I nodded, not wanting to have to concentrate on a conversation, and my mounting desperation. I let her get on with her job, not wanting to slow her down for any reason. “These ones are one sale if you wanted a second one half off.” She observed at one point, holding up a package of noodles. I must have not noticed when I was picking them out, or forgotten to pick up a second pack, which was understandable, given my predicament. “Oh, that’s ok.” I added quickly. I began packing the scanned items into my backpack as quickly as possible. She scanned the final items, and at this point, I transitioned from almost comical pee pee dance, to crossed legs. It had been over an hour since I downed the very large green tea and I had reached a real 9 on the desperation scale. I hadn’t quite planned this out. Usually when I plan to get up to some desperation, pee, or diaper fun in public, I plan things out, but today was more spontaneous, and I was reaching a point of real and serious desperation. The kind of point where you are in real risk of a very public accident. I don’t have the kind of bladder which allows me to let out little leaks to relieve the pressure. I have been practicing, and can sometimes let out a little if I really concentrate and also if I’m absolutely desperate. These little leaks do sometimes happen without my control, but are very often followed by a rather longer release of pee. I really didn’t want that to here in the narrow checkout isle of the T&T Supermarket in front of a group of strangers. The thought of it made my heart race, and my pulse quicken, but also terrified me. Maybe I did want to have a little accident? I mused a little, about the possibility of relaxing, just a little bit, to let out a drop into my panties. I immediately decided against it, as I didn’t want to make a mess and involve the people around me. I clenched down with my PC muscles, removed the hand which was once again pressed between my legs (I had not even been conscious of having done so), and packed the last few items into my bag. “Debit please.” I said, anticipating her question, and she punched a bunch of buttons on the till. She indicated that I could use the machine and I punched in my pin. “Would you like a receipt?” She inquired. “Yes please.” I muttered, replacing my debit card into my wallet and stuffing it into my mostly full backpack. The machine seemed to take forever to print. She tore receipt from the machine and handed it to me. “Just outside the doors in the parking lot, turn left, and then take another left.” She said, cryptically. I hastily put my backpack on, while still doing a pee pee dance, with as much discretion as I could muster. “Huh?” I inquired, not sure what she was talking about, though it should have been obvious. “If you need a washroom, they are just around the corner from the exit.” She clarified. I immediately felt my face flush with warmth. “Oh.” I replied, dumbly. “Thank you.” I had clearly been quite obvious. The fact that a stranger had pointed me in the direction of the washrooms without my having to ask was acutely embarrassing, though I had of course been asking for this kind of treatment. Still lacking decorum, I decided to make a dash for the toilets. Now I can usually make it to the washroom with a bladder at a ‘comfortable’ 9, I have in the past. The trick is to be close to the washroom and to not run or jostle too much. I knew where the washroom was and I could probably make it at a good walking speed. However, still play acting just a little, I rushed out of the exit. The parking lot outside of the exit was busy, with shoppers milling about, cars driving past, and people randomly standing about checking their phones. I zigged and zagged between them at a brisk pace, but still not a jog. I found the main hallway and took a left and there was the sign and hallway leading to the washrooms. It was then when my slightly foggy, desperation confused, brain made a naughty decision; Rather than continuing my brisk pace and hurrying into the washroom, I decided to make a sprint for it. I gripped the straps of my backpack with both hands and took off at a good pace down the hallway towards the washrooms. This was of course a bad idea, if I was hoping to keep my panties dry. While I’m not very good at intentionally letting out little leaks when I’m desperate (and instead tend to just lose control as I mentioned), I am particularly known for leaking when working out. The increased pressure from my running footfalls jostled my bladder, and I could feel a little leak with each running step as I approached the ladies room. Coming around the corner of the entrance of the washroom, I almost collided with a middle-aged woman, and I was forced to slow my pace. Bearing down hard on my PC muscles, to stop the leaking. I hoped that I could find a free stall. Fortunately, Metrotown has well-provisioned washrooms, so that when I entered the relatively crowded washroom, I was quickly able to locate an empty stall. Down at the end, it was sitting with its door ajar. Now, safely inside the washroom, I slowed my pace, weary of slipping on the wet floor, or bumping into one of the many women dotted along the long line of sinks to my side. No longer running, I quickly let go of my backpack strap with my right hand, and, reaching up under my skirt so as not to press is fabric into my damp panties, I held myself tightly. I was largely oblivious to the fact that I was holding myself in a very undignified fashion, and in such a way as to reveal a flash of white cotton to the other women in the washroom. My face burned with warmth as a hastily walked past various women at the sink. Out of the corner of my eye I could see one of them turn to stare at me as she caught my reflection in the mirror. Finally, heart pounding, I reached the empty stall, hand still pressed firmly between my very public, and very wet panties. I pushed the door close, and fumbled with the lock with my left hand. I felt a jet of warmth strike the hand between my legs. I gave up on the lock, removed my wet hand, and used it to yank down my panties, all the while stepping back and spreading my legs. My wet panties were stretched between my thighs as I sort of squatted over the toilet (my backpack and discomfort with sitting on unwiped public toilets preventing me from sitting down). My panties were barely at my thighs when my body released, splashing furiously into the toilet with a loud hiss. As the pressure subsided, I angled my legs more, to prevent splashing and stop the little dribble I felt running down one leg. I peed for a good minute, and possibly a little longer. This is the maximum duration of a Rachel bladder, and I was awash with a wave of relief once I reached the dribbling conclusion of my pee. It took several wadded up balls of toilet paper to dry my sex, legs, and the toilet seat. My panties were another matter. They were rather wet, and I used even more toilet paper to dab them. All the while I had been peeing, I was paranoid that someone would burst in on me, and see my drenched panties spread between my thighs. I was lucky, I suppose, having chosen a stall further from the entrance. As soon as I had stopped peeing, I latched to door, to give me added privacy as I dried myself off. I was careful to inspect my skirt, which had avoided getting wet, which was great, given the embarrassing and revealing steps I’d taken to keep it that way. There may have been a couple of little damp spots on the inside, but the fabric of this particular skirt is pretty thick. Now, as most of you will know by now, I have long carried a spare pair of panties in my purse. This is a habit that comes from long experience with my bladder, its foibles, and also my sometimes intentional wet fun times. While I dried myself off, I came to the realization that I did not have my purse, but rather, I had removed my wallet from my purse before leaving home, and had instead brought a backpack. While the backpack is a large one, capable of holding all of my groceries, it is not as well provisioned as my purse – it lacks a spare pair of panties, pads, makeup and the usually stuff that accumulates in ones purse. I thought about my options. I had largely completed my important errands (I only had to pick up some stamps), and so I could head directly home in my very wet panties, enjoying the cold wetness of them against my skin, and possibly leaving a little wet patch on the seat of the Skytrain. But it was a long walk home, and I still wasn’t quite done with other optional errands (for example, popping over to the library and doing some more window shopping). I wasn’t quite ready to go home, but I was not up for wandering about the mall and area in rather wet panties. I could of course remove my panties and go ‘comando’ but this was not a very good idea. While I’m known for my mild exhibitionism, and get very excited at the prospect of playing up my desperation for a couple of strangers, or flashing my panties at a washroom full of other women (or some of my other adventures), wearing a relatively short skirt without panties is a little too much for me. I would have to navigate the very steep, upskirt inducing, stairs at the Skytrain station, as well as escalators and open areas in Metrotown, where people beneath me could spy my shaved girl parts. I decided that I had been a bad girl, and as such, I would have to wear my wet panties a little longer, but that I would need some other stopgap to get me home. I wadded up a little toilet paper, making a small pad, and pressed this between my legs before hiking up my wet panties once more. The paper would keep my skin dry for a little while, and also reminded me of previous accidents when I was younger, and some of the steps I’d taken after these. My heart was still pounding when I flushed and headed out of the stall to wash my hands. I didn’t recognize any of the women at the sinks from when I had dashed in, not that I would have likely been able to. I dried my hands and headed out, acutely aware of the dampness of the edges of the gusset of my panties, touching my inner thighs, despite the wad of toilet paper. I had a couple of options, and mulled them over in my head. I could go and buy some new panties, I always love new panties, and the packs of cotton girl’s panties that I wear are not that expensive. I was certainly not going to buy something fancy from La Senza or La Vie En Rose, girls who wet their panties are clearly not ready for big girl lingerie. Given my cheap taste for cute cotton little girls panties, I headed all the way across the mall to Walmart. Rather than going straight for the girls isle, I opted to wander about a little. As I have often done, I found myself wandering down the diaper isle, ogling the packages. I’m sure any diaper lovers out there have done the same. Like a moth to the flame, I hovered about the isle, looking for new arrivals, and seeing what I could find. I stared at the packaging of the Goodnites (no change there) still my favorite go to diaper (so cute, so nostalgic), and then worked my way along to the Pull-ups. Now I’ve not worn Pull-ups for many years, and I’m almost certain they don’t fit all that well. I do, after all, wear the L/XL sized Goodnites, and despite these fitting well, I have my doubts about going down to the 4t-5t sized Pull-ups. But right then and there, I decided to try. So I mulled over my options, looking at the feel and learn, night time, and other options available. I finally, after some serious mulling over, decided to pick an adorable pair of regular girls Pull-ups with learning designs, of the largest size I could find. I was excited at the prospect, and even if they didn’t fit all that well, I could still enjoy the stickers that they promised to have inside. I carried these to the checkout as my single item, and paid. I’m at the age where I could have legitimately been buying Pull-ups for my kid, and as I’ve bought Goodnites on many occasions in person, I didn’t get that excited rush that sometimes accompanies buying incontinence products in public. No one knew that I was buying these pull-ups because I’d had an accident, but I knew, and this gave me a naughty little secret which did get my heart pounding just a little bit harder. I got a bag for my item, and headed out, making my way straight for the washrooms. They were easy to find and I didn’t need any help. This time, I headed to the family washroom, and found it open. Feeling a little sneaky, being bereft of a family, I smuggled my way inside, and locked the door. The first thing that I did was open the pack of Pull-ups and give it a big smell, appreciating the new diaper scent. I had pulled out one with a lady doctor character on them. I appreciated them from various angles, taking in the ‘learning designs’ and colours. I also felt them and they felt considerably thinner than Goodnites, which I suppose makes sense, given that these are supposed to be training pants, and not designed to take a full night time bladder’s worth. I did worry that they would leak if I released a very full bladder into them, my Goodnites do this when I wear them (usually when I’m laying down). I pulled down my panties and removed the toilet paper, which was damp. I then pulled down the changing table and finally remembered to take a couple of photos for your perverts. I set up a little still life with wet panties and shameful pull-ups. I then patted myself dry, again, with some toilet paper, as I had become a little damp in the intervening shopping time – both from my panties, and from my natural juices due to all the excitement. I pre-stretched the Pull-ups, a technique I’ve used on smaller pull-ups before, and then slowly shimmied them up my hips. They fit surprisingly well, but were still tight. I gave my legs a couple of practice steps to test out whether or not the sides would hold, and they seemed to do their job. I supposed that they would hold, as long as I didn’t like do any squat thrusts, or similar moves. I did worry for a second that if they didn’t fit, they could tear and fall down while I was wearing them! Or one side would tear, and I would face the awkward situation of a diaper hanging half-attached, under a rather short skirt. I then pondered my options once more. I could pull my panties over the Pull-up, keeping it in place, like a pad. This would work, but also I’d still get the wet clammy feeling of wet panty gusset against my legs. The whole point of the Pull-ups was to wear something dry (and also protective, after all, I’d had am embarrassing bathroom accident in my big girl panties, I told myself, excited by the inner dialogue). The other option was just to risk it, and avoid hip-spreading activities, and hope for the best. I opted for this choice, as putting wet panties over top of a dry clean diaper is just not something a good girl does. I balled up my wet panties so that the dry bits covered the wet and stuffed them into my backpack. There was insufficient room in my backpack for the opened diapers, so I pulled out a cloth bag and put the pack in this. I then headed out into the world. I then went for a rather longer walk all the way to the public library, which is on the other side of the mall and through a lovely little park. There I dropped off a book and picked up a couple of holds I had, stuffing these into the bag with the pull-ups. I spent some time browsing the shelves. It had been a good while since I had peed and while I did this, I felt the urge to pee growing. I was also careful to hold the back of my skirt when walking up the stairs at the library, nervous about flashing my Pull-ups at a library denizen. I was at a very comfortable 4 or 5 when I finally left the library (with a couple additional books and a documentary) and headed back to the mall. I had some time to kill and was keen crack into one of my new books, so I located a cool bench in the park, arranged myself so that I was not sitting on my skirt, and pulled out one of the holds that I have been dying to read. I ploughed through a couple of chapters before I registered that I needed to pee again, properly this time. A good solid 6. Not wanting to get up and abandon my book, and also, still suffused with naughty thoughts, I closed my eyes, and released. I could feel warmth suffuse my girl parts and the diaper filling up. The peed flowed differently inside the Pull-up than it does in a Goodnite. I find Goodnites a little more thirsty, so the pee doesn’t run as much, but rather gets absorbed. In a Pull-up, the pee sort of ran all over getting my bum wet quickly. I bore down after a good 30 seconds (as soon as I was able), worried about leaks. I listened for the tell tale patter of droplets hitting the cement beneath me, indicating that the diaper had leaked, but I heard nothing. While there were no passersby, I reached my hand between my legs and felt for wetness. The Pull-up felt squishy and warm but I didn’t feel any leaks. I read more of my book, all the while enjoying the warm squishy feeling of the wet diaper between my legs. After a couple more chapters, I was starting to get chilly and decided to get up and head back to the mall to get changed before heading home. I hoisted my heavy backpack, picked up my bag, and headed back to the mall. The wet diaper under my skirt felt heavy and rubbed against my thighs subtly. I navigated my way into the mall and found the nearest washroom. Once again, I surreptitiously made my way into the family washroom and barred the door. Because I had in no way emptied my bladder earlier, I wiped off the toilet seat, pulled down my Pull-ups, and peed. I tore the sides of the diaper pretty badly yanking them down, and I tore them off completely while I was peeing. I inspected the gathers and cute designs on the Pull-ups and noticed that I had made the ‘learning designs’ thoroughly disappear. It looked like I needed some more time to learn. After wiping myself, and snapping some pics of the wet Pull-up for all you perverts, I rummaged in my bag and found another diaper. This one I tore badly trying to pre-stretch it, so I stuffed it back in the bag (even torn diapers can be fun, but at home), and pre-stretched another. I carefully shimmied this one up, checked myself in the mirror, washed my hands, and then headed off into the mall once more. I was all excited at having changed myself in a public washroom, and rethinking the whole adventure on my head as I walked to the SkyTrain. I was feeling very naughty by the time I arrived, and as I was on the ground floor, I was less than careful with holding the back of my skirt as I made my way up the steep stairs to the platform. Did I flash a tight pair of Pull-ups to a pervy stranger beneath me? Possibly. But even the prospect of doing this quickened my pulse. I sat on the SkyTrain most ladylike, thank you very much, my adventures with subtle exhibitionism only go so far, and I texted my hubby to see if he was home, he was, and I let him know that he should be ready for a very horny Rachel when I got home. I was throbbing by the time I reached my stop (which isn’t many stops), and I hurried home. My husband didn’t say anything when I got in the door, pushed him into the bedroom and removed my clothes, revealing a brand of diaper that we don’t normally have in the house. It didn’t stay on long however, and I got myself good and satisfied. Well, I hope you enjoyed my adventure, I will share some more soon of course. If you appreciate my work, do please consider buying a pair of my panties or just getting me something off my wishlist, the more fun things I have to wear and play with, the more stories I can share! http://rachelkirwan.wixsite.com/panties Here’s to the next 8000…. Rachel
  10. Part One Contains: Desperation, explicit urination, some nudity One day while walking through the forest, I came upon a couple of tiny creatures. They had white, translucent wings on their backs, and their bodies seemed to be covered (though not well) with a kind of leafy material. They were drinking from a stream. The sight was truly astonishing. I had never encountered fairies before, though I'd heard the tales. I heard that they were peaceful creatures, though they often played tricks on gullible humans. I knew they were going to be my next catch. I'm an insect collector. I go through the forest and catch bugs and spiders to study. Then, after a week or two, I let them go. So little was known about these creatures, so I knew I was going to be a sensation once I publish my findings. I snuck up behind them. A stick crunched beneath my feet, causing them to see me and take shelter in a nearby tree. "No, wait!" I called after them, "there's no reason to be afraid! I'm a scientist. I want to study your species! I mean you no harm!" They didn't come out. I went up to the tree they entered and peeked in. There, I saw a tunnel leading far into the Earth. This was amazing! I'd discovered a colony of fairies! I ran and got some edible berries, which I put right on the ground in front of the tree. Then I went into a nearby bush and waited. I waited until the sun went down. I was nodding off when I heard a faint sound. I arose from my slumber and saw a small, female fairy fluttering down from the tree. She went for the berries, though cautiously. She knew something was up. 'Such a clever creature,' I thought to myself. Though she wasn't clever enough. I took my chance and leapt, catching her in my hands. "Gotcha!" I said, feeling her flutter around madly in my cupped palms. I rushed back to my secluded cabin and put her into an insect jar, which I put on my shelf. She looked scared, which made me feel guilty for only a moment. I had to remind myself that these were only insects with human traits, though the human traits were much more defined than I thought. She looked just like a real person, her wide eyes staring back at mine. Her leafy dress covered very little, and she was rather cute. She was pressed against the other side of the jar, evidently trying to get as far away from me as possible. Her legs were brought up to her chest, giving me a full view of her underside. Was I really attracted to this creature? I suppose I was, similar to the way someone is attracted to a drawing or something. I wouldn't make love to her, of course. She was no bigger than my hand. It's just that everything about her was the same as a human, her pussy visible from under her dress, a little bit of her left nipple peeking out from above it. "Don't be afraid, little one," I said, "I mean you no harm. In a couple of weeks, you'll be free to go back to your colony." She didn't seem to understand me. She still looked scared. I filled a bottlecap up with water. "I'm going to open the top now," I said, "don't fly out, there's nowhere to go." As soon as the top was open, she tried to dart out. I immediately covered it with my hand when I saw her take flight, and she raced quickly into my palm. It stung a little bit. I removed my hand to see her dazed and dizzy. I placed the bottlecap in the jar and placed the top back on. "I'll study you in the morning, little one," I said, and turned out my bedside light. I slept well. In the morning, I immediately went over to the jar with my fairy inside. She was fast asleep, curled into a ball on the ground. All the water in the cap was gone. I refilled it and placed it back in there with her with ginger movements, careful not to wake her, though when I put the cap back on I was a little too loud. She awoke with a start, her eyes darting around the room. She looked right at me through the glass. "I didn't mean to do that," I said. "Can you understand me?" She only stared back at me. I felt a night's worth of liquid pulsing in my belly, so I went outside and urinated. I looked in the window, only to see the fairy staring back at me. I felt embarrassed, even knowing she wasn't an actual human. When I went back inside, I put the jar on my desk and began sketching her. She was still curled up and scared. I studied her for hours before my hunger overpowered my curiosity. "Are you hungry, little one?" I asked her. After eating my own breakfast, I went outside and picked some berries. When I returned, all the water in the cap was once again gone. "You only drink when I'm not here, huh?" I asked. "You'll probably do the same when you're eating. I'll leave you be." She didn't try to fly out when I changed her water this time. I dropped the berries in there and shut the lid, putting her back on the shelf. I left the house to get supplies from the village. When I got back, the sun was already setting again. I felt tired from my journey. I checked on the fairy. All of her water was once again gone, and only a few berries remained. She was still curled up, though. I changed her water, ate, and went to bed. In the silent dark, though, I heard a slight tapping. I ignored it for a while, but it was incessant. I turned on the light to find the source of it, only to find it was the fairy. She was standing up now, looking at me. I climbed out of bed and went up to her. "What's the matter, little one?" I asked. She pointed toward the window. "No, no," I laughed, "you can't leave just yet. I've still got more work to do." She pointed with more energy, looking frantic and pleading. Her legs were pressed together, one of her hands balled into a fist at her side. "Ohhh," I said, understanding. "You need to pee, right?" She only looked back at me. "Sorry about that," I chuckled, "I'm so used to bugs just doing their business wherever. I wonder how I'm going to go about this with you." She tapped on the glass and pointed to the window again, doing a bit of a dance. She was bobbing up and down a little, her fist shaking at her side. A wave had clearly hit. I retrieved another bottlecap and dropped it in there. "Use that," I said. She didn't. She continued tapping and pointing. I looked through my drawers for something, anything, to allow this little fairy to do her business without escaping. She was writhing and lurching forward as I searched, her pleading taps becoming louder and more incessant. "I'm working on it, little one," I said, hoping she can hold it long enough for me to get something. After almost a half hour of looking, I realized that they must be used to going outside. I brought in one of my potted plants and put it on my desk. "Alright, little one, I don't know if you can understand me, but I'm going to let you out. There's no use in trying to escape, my doors and windows are locked up tight. I want you to go in the soil in that pot over there, okay?" She tapped and pointed the whole time I was talking, her legs dancing frantically. I opened the top, grabbed her, and put her in the soil on the plant. She immediately began flying around the room, up to the windows and the cracks in the door. "In here!" I said, pointing to the pot. She didn't listen to me. I noticed that her flying was much more erratic than what I witnessed in the forest. Instead of the gracefulness she had then, it was choppy and inconsistent, like a hurt bird. I wrote this down in my notes. There could be a number of reasons for this. She could have hurt herself flying into my hand, or I hurt her when I caught her. Her wings might become weaker with misuse, as is the case with many flying insects. She appeared to have realized her efforts were useless, or she couldn't hold it any longer, because as I was writing she flew down to the pot, hitched up her leafy dress, and absolutely exploded. She wasn't squatting, which I found odd. She was standing, bent at the knees, pulling her labia apart with her hand. I was surprised at the power of her stream, though I should have expected it. To someone her size, a single bottlecap was probably like a liter. I watched her go, feeling a bit mesmerized. I was getting hard, too. I noticed that there was some hair on her pussy, yet another detail that made her feel more human. Her legs were shaking a bit, probably from the immense relief she must have been feeling. I watched as her stream died down to a drip. She didn't even shake to dry, she simply pulled her dress back down and looked out the window. It seemed she was longing for escape, though she wasn't scared anymore. I scooped her up and put her back in the jar, to which she didn't resist. She simply lied down and went to sleep. As I put the lid back on, I noticed some droplets of moisture on my hand. I smelled it and realized it was her urine. I peered at the puddle she left in the pot, making me feel even more horny. I hadn't thought about my fetish in a long, long time. It's been nothing but work for so long. I can't remember the last time I jerked off. I looked back at her. Curled up sleeping, her underside visible under her dress again. It seemed she was deep in slumber. I turned out the light and my hand found its way under the covers. I thought about the fairy, how badly she must have needed to go, and for so long. Almost a full twenty-four hours with no relief, including however long before she was caught. I thought about her frantic eyes, her desperate dance, and how it must feel to have a bursting bladder while flying around the room like that. Her pee must have been sloshing around like crazy. I finished on that thought, then drifted into slumber.
  11. Undoubtetly the best jeans wetting video i have ever seen. https://vk.com/videos229781427?z=video229781427_456239078%2Fpl_229781427_-2
  12. Papergami

    Pokémon center can't help them all

    From the album: My Art

    Do you want a omorashi drawing of some special character? Contact and ask me! I make commissions!
  13. rachelkirwan

    female Coffee Shop Oops Moment

    Well, the other day I was out about town. I had a couple of errands planned for the morning, and then had a delightful afternoon with very little planned. Work has been very busy and so I very much needed the break. I decided to do the thing that brings me the most fun, which is grabbing a lovely warm drink, curling up in a comfy chair in a coffee shop, and enjoying a good book. While it’s been getting chillier here lately, I’m not giving up on skirt weather just yet. This being said, it has been quite cool, so on this day, I slipped a pair of thin black tights over top of a pair of lovely white cotton panties with orange trim. Overtop of this, I wore a knee-length pleated gray skirt, and on top a cozy cardigan, overtop of a simple lavender blouse. I bustled about in the morning, and right after lunchtime, I headed over to one of my favorite coffee shops and grabbed a pot of chai tea. I found my favorite spot by the window, which took some jockeying with another customer (I had to perch nearby while my tea steeped and then swoop in). While I was waiting I prepared my tea with lots of cream, sugar and some extra cinnamon on top. I then snuggled in, knees against my chest, and worked my way through my book. I love the chair I chose because it’s big and comfy, but it also faces the window, so if I am wearing a skirt and sit with my legs in a less than discreet lady-like fashion, I get the naughty feeling that people walking past on the street might be able to spot my panties. I get that semi-exhibitionistic thrill of being a girl on display in the window. With an extra naughty jolt as people at the right angle may be able to spot my panties. Today, I thought a passerby would have to look quite closely, given that I was wearing rights, but if they looked hard enough, they would certainly be able to make out my white cotton panties through my tights, given how I was sitting. I worked my way through my first mug, and a good number of chapters. My mind forgot where I was and I dove into my book. After a good half hour, a goodly portion of tea had worked through my body, I was at a decent 4 or 5 on the desperation scale, and when I reached for my mug, it was empty. I wrapped up my chapter and then got up, being less than careful with my skirt. To reserve my special spot, I left my purse and book in the middle of the chair, and I took my teapot up to the counter. This coffee shop does very good teas, the leafy expensive kinds. As a result, you can always get a second cup of tea out of your pot if you ask for more hot water, which they are always happy to provide. I waited my turn, and soon got my tea topped up. I went back to my spot and worked my way through another chapter, while the tea steeped. I was at a ‘you should probably head to the washroom before you get back on the Skytrain, but are probably ok for a while,’ level of desperation at this point. Then, I got up to add all the yummy chai fixings. I poured a generous cup of tea, leaving room for milk. I then added the crazy hipster dark sugar they have and after mixing it all together, added a generous puff of cinnamon on top. My mind still on the ambiance of the coffee shop and aesthetic of a fresh mug of tea, I put my face down into my mug and inhaled the rich aroma. In the process, I got a nose full of cinnamon. As those of you who have been following my pad tests know, a nose full of cinnamon is a guaranteed way for me to trigger a massive sneeze, and this is exactly what happened. ACHOO! It wasn’t one of those sneezes where you have warning and get time to like cover your mouth and cross your legs. Nope. It was a sudden and violent sneeze. I barely had a chance to turn my head away from the tea service station. Right along with the sneeze, I felt a big jet of warm pee erupt between my legs. We aren’t talking a little squirt that just dampens the gusset of your panties. Nope. This was a big squirt, the kind that you can feel dribbling down the inside of your thigh, cooling as it works its way down your tights. I clenched, stopping the flood as quickly as I could, and fortunately there was no second sneeze or additional wetting. So then there I was, standing in the middle of one of my favorite coffee shops, with a bunch of people staring at me, attracted no doubt by my very loud sneeze, with a cooling trickle of pee running down my inner left thigh. The people about me quickly went about their business, unaware of my bathroom accident. I composed myself, and headed back over to my reading nook. I had that crazy feeling that people were still watching me, and that if I immediately went to the bathroom they would guess that I’d had an accident. It’s like that same feeling you get when you are say wearing a diaper and feel like everyone can see it, even though they can’t. So rather than going straight to the washroom to inspect the damage, I went back to my spot. Put my mug down next to the chair, along with the tea pot, and then pretended to rummage about in my purse for a little while, and then I picked up my purse and headed to the washroom. There wasn’t a wait and I went straight in. I inspected my skirt, which given the pleating and cut tends to avoid getting wet when this sort of thing happens, and it was indeed unscathed. I then lifted it up to inspect my tights and panties. There was a cool wet streak running all the way down my left thigh to almost my knee, and the crotch of my tights was pretty. I kicked off my shoes and pulled my tights off, before padding them dry with some toilet paper. I then put my shoes back on, as the floor of any public washroom is not the kind of place you want to be in socks. I hiked up my skirt and pulled down my panties, enjoying the little tingle that followed the feeling of the wet gusset brushing my inner thigh. I did still have to pee, so I inspected my wet panties spread out between my thighs while I peed sitting on the toilet. I had made quite a mess of them. In addition to the serious wet spot I had just made, my morning activities and active girl parts had left some other residue on the gusset of these otherwise pristine white cotton panties. After wiping, I let my panties slide all the way down my ankles, and with a little difficulty, stepped out of them and left them there on the ground in front of the toilet. I left my panties there on the dirty ground in front of the toilet, stepped back, now completely naked under my skirt, and took a couple of artful pictures for all of you perverts. I like how the yellow theme of the washroom complements the stain I left in my panties. I then padded the panties dry with some toilet paper, and then decided to take a couple of more artful pictures of my panties, draped over the toilet paper dispenser. I love how the match the colour of the walls. My quick little naughty photo shoot complete, I carefully folded up my panties (wet side on the inside) and then rummaged around my purse for the little plastic baggie where I keep my backup panties. I pulled them out (one of my cute purple Olaf panties), pulled them on, and stuffed my wet panties inside the bag. I also rolled up my tights, and stuffed these into my purse (don’t worry, my purse is pretty big). Then, as an afterthought, because it seemed like one of those days, I pulled a pad out of my purse, pulled my panties down, and affixed the pad. I had been in the washroom for a good amount of time, and had that ‘oh no, what will people think’ thought in the back of my head, even though this kind of thought is completely irrational. I washed my hands, straightened my clothes, and headed back out. My tea was fortunately still warm and my spot unoccupied. I hunkered down for another pot’s worth of reading. Now, as I sat there, I felt just a little bit naughtier, knowing that I had a pair of wet panties in my purse, and also because now that I was not wearing any tights, there was a guarantee that my cartoon character panties might just be visible to keen-eyed passersby as a result of the various un-ladylike poses I assumed while reading. I’m certain a number of random folks spotted my panties (and possibly my pad), while I sped through a half-dozen more chapters. My travels home were uneventful, though the chill on my legs reminded me of my accident earlier. Rach
  14. Jimmy Olsen

    Locked Up Tight

    A messy little story based on a prompt by @Alex Oxford. Denise is an athletically fit Latina of 22, with silky black hair and twinkly brown eyes. She didn't look great when she woke up this morning, though. Her eyes were sleepy, her hair was messy, and her trim tan body was concealed beneath baby blue sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt. She didn't feel great, either. There was a sharp pain in the front of her abdomen, and a dull ache in the rear. Her body was telling her she needed to use the toilet. She felt that way most mornings, but the way she dealt with it this morning was different. She groggily crawled out of bed, shuffled to the bathroom, slowly eased her tender bottom onto the cold porcelain seat, and experienced a refreshing evacuation of the bladder. With the pain in her front gone, she dabbed herself dry with a square of toilet paper, flushed her bright yellow leavings, and moved on to the next step of her morning routine. She could've easily banished the dull ache from her abdomen with a refreshing evacuation of the bowels, but she didn't. Her body protested, but she ignored it. Denise ate the same cereal she did every morning, which always enabled a bowel movement (assuming her bowels weren't already prepared when she awoke). Her colon stirred as usual. She could've easily remedied the problem the next time she went into the bathroom, but instead she passed by the toilet and took a shower. The warm water made the discomfort inside her grow, but she passed by the toilet again when she got out of the shower. She anxiously glanced at it a few times as she applied the makeup that subtly accentuated her lovely natural features, a few more times as she used the curling iron that gave her hair those big beautiful bouncy curls, and one more time when she hung up her bathrobe, but she never sat on it. Denise dressed business casual as usual. The color scheme was muted blues, which went well with her tan complexion. The top tastefully downplayed her large bust. The high-waisted skirt, together with the high-heeled shoes, gave the impression she was tall, though she was actually a bit below average height. When she was fully dressed there were three layers wrapped around her waistline, which exacerbated her abdominal discomfort, but she still left her apartment without granting herself the relief she could've easily experienced. Denise walked by the public restrooms without pausing on the way to her desk, where she went about her daily responsibilities without giving much attention to her unusually heavy colon. She had the option of a restroom break at almost any time during the workday, but she worked for hours without taking her leave. When she did finally trade her swivel-chair for a toilet seat, she still didn't relieve herself fully. She lightly sighed from the pleasure of voiding her bladder, but successfully fought the temptation to void her bowels. She wiped her womanhood, flushed the toilet, put her clothes back in order, and returned to her desk as if nothing was wrong. The only outward change was to her skirt, which she loosened a little bit for the sake of her tender belly. She kept her bowels full as she walked by the restrooms to get to the break room. Her lunch today was spicy lentil wraps with tahini sauce and a cup of green tea. Her bowels were even fuller when she walked back to her desk, and she glanced longingly at the ladies' room door, but she still passed it by. The rest of Denise's day was more difficult. The painful churning in her gut grew stronger, and the weight pressing on her bottom grew heavier. She kept her sunny yet dignified exterior, but it took much more effort than usual. One of her coworkers noticed her discomfort, and commented out of concern. "Are you okay?" "Yeah. It's just a little yucky feeling. I'll be fine once I get off work and relax a little." She technically wasn't lying. It was a great relief when 5 o'clock came. She smiled and sang softly to herself as she got her desk in order and left the building. The struggle wasn't over, however. Something about the excitement of the end of the workday or the exertion of the walk through the building gave her a much more urgent feeling. She found herself jogging through the parking lot in fear of an imminent accident. Her hair and breasts bounced furiously and unprofessionally, but she made it inside the car with unsoiled underwear. Denise's muscular buttocks, which had held out so well on the swivel-chair, felt worryingly unreliable on the driver's seat. She could deal with the problem, though. She just did what she'd been doing all afternoon. She held on strong, got as comfortable as she could, and tried to push the pain and urgency out of her conscious mind. Denise drove cautiously and adeptly despite her situation, which actually gave her added incentive to make the ride as smooth as possible. The weight on her bottom was so great that she was afraid any wrong movement or unexpected bump would cause her to ruin the upholstery (to say nothing of her clothes). She could get to her apartment in 10 minutes. She could've easily gone home to her own bathroom, minimizing the risk of an accident and allowing herself complete privacy. Instead she drove past her building. In another 20 minutes she was at her destination, and her bowels were absolutely furious with her. There were aches, stabs, feelings of shifting contents, and sounds of gurgling and churning. Her bowels tried to revolt when she parked the car. She could feel the pressure in her colon building and the muscles at the end going to work. She tried her best to keep her opening sealed shut, then she slowly and deliberately rose from the seat and lowered herself out of the car. When she shut the car door she thought she was losing control. She pressed her bottom into the side of the car and used all her willpower to command the lower opening of her digestive tract to close up tightly. Her face was read. Her eyes were squinting. Drops of sweat and tears were running down her face. Both her fists were clenched tightly, as if they could magically make her rear end do the same. Nothing managed to get out, not even gas. After a moment, the pain, pressure, and urgency waned. She was able to calm her nerves, and even take a moment to fix her face, but she knew this was only a temporary remission. Soon her bowels would fight back with more ferocity than before, and she'd be unable to defend her panties from ruin. Once Denise composed herself she carefully walked to the nearest building and went up to a familiar door. She was looking her best when she gave the door her special knock. Her body was a filthy mess of painful organs, but she was wearing the mask of a sprightly young woman. Gary opened the door and saw his lovely dark-skinned girlfriend showing her pearly-white teeth in an expression that looked spontaneous and girlish but secretly took tremendous effort. After a light pecking of the lips, Denise was inside Gary's living room, and the door was closed behind her. What they said and did now would be completely private. She turned her innocent smile into a naughty grin in spite of herself. "Did you keep your promise?" Gary asked. "It was a silly promise, so I broke it first thing this morning," Denise kidded. The young man's face fell. "You did?" "Of course not! I'm full of shit." Gary laughed, and Denise elaborated. "I kept my rear exit locked up tight," she proudly announced as she indicated her bottom with a light smack. She immediately regretted it, because it brought pain to her overloaded system. "Well, you're the boss now. What should I do next?" Gary stood quietly for a moment, looking a bit bewildered. "Undress, I guess." "Didn't you want me to make a mess in my clothes?" Denise asked. "I want you to make a mess in your undies," Gary clarified. "The rest'll just get in the way." Denise stepped out of her shoes and stiffly removed her work clothes, carefully folding them before setting them aside. Soon she was clothed only in a rather modest white full-coverage brassiere and white brief panties (both with just a little bit of lace trim for fun). "You don't have to take your bra off if you're not comfortable," Gary added. "I wouldn't want to do something indecent while I'm pooping my panties for a man's pleasure," Denise joked. Her breasts remained snugly concealed in her double-d-cup bra. "Now push it all out!" ordered Gary with his eyes fixed on the well-toned rump clothed in thin cotton. Denise tried to loosen up all the muscles in and around her rear opening. This wasn't as easy as she'd expected. She'd kept them tensed up for so long it seemed like they'd forgotten how to relax. After some moments of mental calming and deep breaths, however, they relinquished their hold on her waste. She didn't need to push. Things started happening on their own. The first part that had to come out was the stuff that had reached her rectum while she slept and had been forced back and compacted down ever since. She screamed when it barged through her tender opening. Gary jumped. "Are you okay?" "It feels like a chunk of concrete's coming out!" exclaimed Denise before she bit her lip. Indeed he could see two rather sharp-looking dents in the fabric of her undies. They looked almost like two talons reaching out of his girlfriend's rear end. They then thrust outward and sideways until they looked like a misshapen wood chip you might find on a playground. In a few seconds there was a stumpier chip resting next to it "Bend over so I can see better," Gary said as his mouth practically watered from excitement. Denise squeaked in pain, and drew it out into a moan as she slowly leaned forward, spreading her cheeks and drawing the fabric more tightly around her curves and lumps. The simple act of bending over put enough pressure on Denise's colon to propel the contents outward. The size of her mess quintupled in the same time it'd taken for the first two lumps to break out. Those hard chunks were absorbed into a large lumpy nugget in a spectacle reminiscent of a lava flow. A slimy slithery sound punctuated by tiny pops and crackles could be heard all the while. Denise closed her eyes and sighed from the pleasure of releasing the heavy load she'd hauled around all day. "Good show!" Gary exclaimed. "I knew you could be a dirty girl with a little encouragement." "The show's just started," Denise informed him. The sticky and crackly sounds intensified when she began consciously pushing, and the mess in the seat of her panties developed even more rapidly than before. It not only grew, but its center of gravity shifted. The nugget was now shaped something like a Brazil nut, and was moving further and further up the mountain that was Denise's left cheek. Meanwhile the new part snaking out of her cave filled up the valley and charged around the other mountain, reaching the lacy white border of her underwear. A piece of what looked like chunky peanut butter poked out and threatened to fall down her thigh. When she stopped to catch her breath and adjust her panties the threat was contained. What she pushed out next filled in the middle, fusing everything together into a single messy mass. By now much of her underwear had taken on a brownish hue. The final round of pushing was noisier than it was productive, but did add a few accessories to the creation inside her panties. "Now it's over." "Nice load!" Gary exclaimed with a grin. "That's a lot of cargo to keep packed inside a cute little container." "It wasn't easy." "May I?" Gary asked as he reached his hand in the direction of his girlfriend's posterior. "Go right ahead." He grabbed her bottom, but couldn't feel a bit of cheek in those overloaded undies. He stroked the damp cotton with his fingers, and kneaded the semisolid mass inside. Denise closed her eyes and sighed again, this time from the pleasure of the warm muddy feeling inside her panties. "Thanks for indulging my fetish. You're a wonderful woman." "You're very welcome. I think now it's my fetish, too."
  15. Kittie's diaper school part 1 (Contains dildo masturbation) Kittie's diaper school part 2 Kittie's diaper school part 3 Vicky in a wet diaper part 1 Vicky in a wet diaper part 2 Vicky in a wet diaper part 3 seems to have vanished from the internet
  16. Evab100

    female In a cup

    This was actually around 2 to 3 years ago, and I still remember it like it was yesterday. I wondered what my bladder capacity was at the moment, so I grabbed a cup I had gotten from a local pizza place a long time ago. I let my pussy pee out into the cup, trying not to get a drop spilt. I think i got around 300 to 400 millilitres?
  17. Hi, I found this Video from Nicki on VK (there she is callled Frankie). Is this new? Can anybody say where it is from? https://vk.com/videos144752859?z=video229781427_456239072%2Fpl_144752859_-2 Thanks Mugga
  18. Scene 1 Only I remember a few weeks ago someone was looking for this video and i was supposed to upload it fast as possible. But here it is later then ever but uploaded to the forum for you all to watch and download. This videofile contains both nudity and lesbian sex in it but most important of them all is the wetting and peeing in it. Enjoy ❤️ national-models-peeing-3-scene1.avi
  19. biondi

    opposite sex pee

    if you could be of the opposite sex for a week whar are the weirdest places you'd pee and why ?
  20. Jimmy Olsen

    Nadia's Nightmare

    A short original story that just popped into my head. In the middle of the night, the quiet home was suddenly filled with the sounds of muffled cries and flailing limbs beneath covers. The cries turned into breathy gasps as Nadia bolted upright and threw off her covers. She wouldn't be falling back asleep anytime soon. She was still panting nervously as she sat at the table, slowly drinking a glass of cold water and trying to calm down. Her mother took a seat next to her. "I had a nightmare," Nadia explained. "I know. I heard you. Was it about the exams?" "How'd you know?" "All you've been doing lately is studying for them, and working on your papers. I'm sure they're on top of everything in your mind right now." "Yeah," Nadia answered, and then started a sentence that trailed off. She was surprised by her mother's understanding, but her mind was mostly occupied by the dream. It played back to her over and over. "I'm sure you'll do all right," her mother said gently. "You've been doing well this year, and I know you're putting in a lot of effort." Nadia began to describe the nightmare, not really hearing her mother's words of encouragement. "I was giving my history presentation. You know, reading my final paper in front of the whole class. I was so scared. "I felt something, like a tickly tingly little thing, but I didn't pay attention. I knew I had to read everything perfectly, and have my voice and body language just right. "I kept feeling it, though, and I noticed people were laughing. My paper's not funny, you know, so they must've been laughing 'cause I was doing something wrong. They were laughing, my body was tingling, and I just had to stop what I was doing and look down. "I was leaking. Nothing was stopping it, and everybody could see it. I can still see it in my head. I wanted to leave the room and clean up. I wanted to run away. I couldn't, though. I kept standing there looking like an idiot while pee ran down my legs and got all over the floor. "I remembered I was supposed to use a toilet before class started, but I forgot, and that's why I was leaking. The teacher asked me why I didn't use the toilet, and I couldn't answer. I couldn't talk at all. He said I needed to leave, and not come back. I couldn't graduate 'til I completed toilet training." "Don't worry about it," her mother said. "There's no such thing. Not since the old days." "I know that. It was just a stupid dream. It was so real, though. I really truly believed my whole year was ruined 'cause I couldn't hold my pee inside. It was awful." When Nadia's mother read her daughter's indicator, her tone shifted from compassionate to critical. "Maybe you wouldn't have dreams like that if you didn't drink so much before bed." Nadia blushed and gave the indicator a brief glance. "I'll be good 'til morning." Her mother gave her a stern look. "Fine, I'll take care of it now," Nadia said reluctantly. On the way to the bathroom, her mother called out to her. "Be sure you get full powder coverage. The new dispenser doesn't work as good as the manual one." Nadia let out an annoyed huff. "I'm 18 years old. I know how to change my diaper."
  21. https://www.xtube.com/video-watch/peeing-in-your-breakfast-25416561
  22. https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5892d3a4d4935
  23. MrWet89

    female New youtubr

    Found this and snagged it from youtube Country girl needs to pee.mp4
  24. I figure I should draw more. Not only that, but I should draw better. I'll probably take request later, for now I should just focus on drawing more. Well it's been a while, so here's two I did last night. I already warned NSFW, but everyone who looks at my stuff should be prepared for anything. I'm making it a goal to draw more period, but especially what I do best. Already got more coming, there will be plenty of colored and shaded works, I just needed to loosen up a bit first. EDIT: Before It's too late to edit I forgot to mention. I do lots of furry and anthro stuff, but also pony is a favorite of mine. It's all fantasy porn, I don't go around showing this crap to little kids so I don't care. Not afraid of diaper or males, but I don't usually draw them. I tagged yuri because I plan on it.
  25. This is the story of the time I held on the longest I can remember! My dad worked for British Rail so I had the privilege of having some free train passes I could use when I was a teenager. I have an uncle and aunt who live in London so I arranged to go and visit them one Easter. It was a long train journey but as I love train travel it was very relaxing. So I was always (still am) somewhat embarrassed to say to anyone when I need to use the bathroom. When I was staying at my aunts I tried to not go very often and would sit and chat and hold on for as long as I could. I would never go during the night either incase I woke anyone so spent the week holding every day so many times! Their bathroom was off the kitchen and somehow if I did muster the courage to go I would inevitably meet my cousins in the kitchen or my aunt and they would want to chat! By the time I had got to the kitchen I was usually almost wetting myself and it was so difficult to remain social and decent while on the verge of wetting! I do recall dancing feverishly a couple of times and looking longingly at the bathroom so often. I never gave my aunt my dirty washing that week as every pair of pants had wet patches that week! Anyway, this particular night that week we had all sat in the kitchen having Sunday dinner. The sun was shining into the room making it warm and I remember drinking a few glasses of water with my meal. As was normal we had been to church together that morning and I was booked on the train home the next day. During dinner one of my cousins (three girls the oldest being about five years younger than me) mentioned that the youth group had a meeting on and suggested we all go since it was my last night with them. It sounded fun so about an hour after dinner my aunt gave us all a bottle of water each and some sweets and we ploughed into my uncles car to go to the youth event. The church was just twenty minutes drive away so I was expecting us to go there. I had not been in the car long when I felt a familiar tingle in my privates and realised I should have gone to the bathroom before we left. By the time we had been in the car about twenty five minutes so I was not at all worried assuming we would arrive any minute. The car kept driving. I foolishly drank som more water from the bottle as it was hot in the back of the car. I was aware I needed the bathroom a bit but I was still fairly comfortable. I looked out the window and tried to enjoy the ride while I listened to my cousins chat to their dad. Half an hour later and we were still driving! By now I had my kegs crossed and I was wondering where we were going! From what one of the girls was saying it seemed this was a joint churches thing and we were heading for another church out of town. Surely we had to be there soon? And surely there would be a toilet when we got there. Finally we pulled into a car park and my uncle turned off the engine. We had been in the car an hour now and I had last used the bathroom over four hours previously and since then I had consumed a lot of liquid! I went to open the door but there was a child lock on and the others were not getting out anyway. I really wanted to ask where we were and if we were getting out. Mostly I wanted to ask if there was a toilet anywhere I could use but I was way too shy for that. I should say this was before the days when mobile phones were standard though my uncle did seem to have one as they were pretty well off. We sat in the pitch black car park for ten minutes of more. I could see a building nearby but like everywhere else it too was in pitch darkness. If I had not been with relatives I would have been a bit scared to be honest. The only good thing about the darkness was I was able to hide my need to wee more. I placed my hand between my crossed legs and shifted around in my seat. I could feel the need much stronger and I was certain if we went home I would never last the hours journey. There was no way I could wet myself though as I was staying with relatives for one thing, I would be far too embarrassed for another and my uncle would not be happy if I damaged his car. I needed a bathroom so bad though! It was getting harder to sit still! Eventually my uncle decided to call someone. We had been in the car park over twenty minutes now and I was bursting for a pee and no idea where we were or when I would be able to go! I could hear the person on the other end of the phone telling my uncle that he was in the wrong place but suggesting we go to their house for a while instead! I hoped so badly that they lived near by. I really really needed to find a bathroom and time was running out.... My uncle switched off the phone and started the car up. I was so glad it was dark outside as I was able to have one hand wedged between my legs pushing against my vagina to try and hold my pee in. Despite having a seat belt on I kept moving around too. My cousins seemed engrossed in conversation with their dad talking about where we were now going and how they were excited etc. I was dearly wishing it would be close by and trying to figure out how I would get out the car dry when we got there. I was so bursting I actually remember putting my hands inside my trousers and pants and stroking myself. I was so embarrassed but had my body facing the car window so no-one could see. I was practically dancing in my seat and my face was screwed up. My bladder was hurting and I was getting concerned. Finally we pulled into the driveway of a very posh house. It turned out to be the church minister and his wife and they invited us all inside. My cousins were hugging them and so excited and I was standing there crossed legged hoping someone would say hello to me so I could ask quietly if I could use their bathroom please! While I stood there I felt a few drops leaking out of me and I had to suddenly shift position to try and stop myself peeing myself in a posh house in front of family and strangers. They had set up this sort of snug/TV room for us all and laid on a bit of a spread with sandwiches, juice, cakes etc. We all got comfy and I found myself sitting at the end of the sofa closest to the ministers wife who was on a large arm chair knitting. They turned on a TV and put a movie on which I have no idea what it was as all I could think of was the fact I was about to wet myself! With all the chatter and the noise of the movie I muttered to myself ‘I need the toilet so bad’ but no-one seemed to hear! Why could I not just admit I was bursting to pee and ask to use their bathroom?? Instead I sat back in the sofa and crossed my legs tightly. I was sat bolt upright and must have looked so uncomfortable. There was a small coffee table beside me and the ministers wife reminded me politely that I had a glass of juice and snacks I could have. Just looking at the glass of juice was making me so nervous. I picked up a sandwich and politely ate it though all I wanted really was a bathroom break. My bladder was aching now as I had been holding for almost two hours and not been to the bathroom for over five hours. I shifted about and tightened my muscles all I could. I even slipped my head between my crossed legged desperately longing to finger myself as the closer I got to wetting myself the more turned on I got! The noise settled as everyone else finally started to watch the movie. I tried watching it but I could not focus on anything other than the fact I was about to burst! I took a deep breath and said really quietly ‘Excuse me please, could I use your bathroom.’ Unfortunately right at that moment the movie had a loud part which completely drowned out my whisper and no-one responded. I could feel the tears behind my eyes as my urethra was pounding so hard against my vagina, my pussy lips were swollen beyond belief, my clit was rock hard and I was so wet and open. For a second I froze as a spurt leaked out just as my urethra pushed down for the millionth time that night. I could not take this a second longer. I swallowed hard, put my head down to avoid eye contact and almost cried out, ‘Please please could I use your bathroom. It’s quite urgent’ And right at that point I stood up as another drip leaked.... As I stood there, vulnerable, dripping and blushing I could feel my entire body shaking. I had reached the point of no return and if I was delayed more than a minute longer I would flood the room with hot steamy fluid! Without so much as lifting her eyes from her knitting the ministers wife said ‘of course! Up the stairs, third on the right.’ What? In a property the size of this and they had no downstairs loo? How was I ever going to make it upstairs? My urethra was pushing against my wet pants now so fast it was like a steam train about to crash. I HAD to pee. I HAD to. I jammed both hands instinctively between my legs, put my head down in utter embarrassment and bent over. Now to find this heavenly longed for place when I could relax, open myself up fully and explode like a waterfall at the edge of a cliff. My hands could feel my trousers were already damp now and I needed every ounce of energy I had to keep myself from just surrendering to my own body, allowing it the precious release it needed and relaxing into the inevitable. I knocked the room door closed with the back of my foot, leaned against the old Victorian hallway and fell back against the wall. Here was I, in my late teens, an everyday girl with shoulder length dark brown hair, navy trousers, a flowery cream and navy blouse on, deep brown eyes and breasts that only just jutted out more than my overfilled and bursting bladder. My eyes filled with tears as my knees bent and my back fell against the cold wall as I grasped myself between my legs for dear life. Finally I could undo the top of my trousers as I tried to stop myself from the inevitable, bursting open for all to see and hear! I slid one hand inside my trousers, inside my wet and warm pants and grabbed my pee hole with my fingers for all I was worth. How had I got to this state? Why was I simply unable to ask to go earlier? Now I had taken myself to a totally extreme situation where not only was I about to wet my clothes but I was also so incredibly close to having a sexually public experience in the hallway of a ministers house! What was I thinking? I saw the stairs and made a run for it...well running with open trousers, wet pants, a body bent over, a bladder sloshing about and a finger inside your leaking pussy is a site to behold I can tell you! With my free hand I held onto the railing and willed myself to hold another second...and another...and another... The tears dropped from my eyes in sequence with drops from my urethra onto my hand. I was beyond bursting and if anyone saw me I knew I would just let go. My heart was pounding, my skin sweating, my vagina screaming. Each step up those stairs was both painful and orgasmic as each drop ran down my inside leg causing electric shocks right through me! The third door seemed like an absolute eternity away. I was past being dignified. I was past holding back now. As I reached the light coloured carpeted landing I kicked my trousers off then and there. (My shoes had been removed when I came in so I only had my socks on). It didn’t even cross my mind how I would manage to come back for them or what if they were found. This was an emergency and I could not have them getting any wetter. The gusset of my flowery cotton pants was so wet and warm so as I continued to struggle on I used my spare hand to pull them down too. So here I am staggering along a hallway naked from the waist down in someone’s house with hot sexy pee running out of me despite all I could do to prevent it! One drip on the carpet. And another. Where was this door? Where was the bathroom I so desperately, longingly yearned for? Finally I came to the third door, pushed it open, and tore my hand away as I ran dripping and panting for the toilet. I turned and tried sitting down just milliseconds before a torrent of hot streaming release escaped me. It was pouring out of me so fast before I even had time to rest my bottom on the seat. I was shaking, crying and laughing all at the same time! I rested my bum cheeks on the cold plastic seat and finally relaxed as hours and hours of build up finally took its toll on my whole body. My head tipped back, my eyes closed and my mind taken to a place of utter relaxation and peace finally. This was a needed pee. This was a never needing climax that was heavenly indeed. The speed at which my body released that day was second to none. The amount of liquid, the intensity and the feelings of total release have yet to be repeated. I could not control what was happening to me. The bathroom door was wide open, I could be watched, heard or touched by anyone and I could not have cared. I was in another realm altogether, in another world, where all that mattered was getting this climax, this release. For all I could not say a word earlier about my need to pee all of a sudden here in the bathroom, alone, naked from the waist down with my discarded damp clothing in the hallway outside, I could not keep quiet. ‘Ah, ah, ah’ ‘Oh, oh, oh’ ‘This...is....heaven’ I screamed as my entire body pulsated with release, passion and ecstasy. The urine kept on coming in waves, mixed with so much mucus that ran out of me uncontrollably. Time stood still as my body reached its ultimate high. Then I sat there, suddenly aware that this went beyond peeing. Suddenly aware the door was open, I was half naked, exposed, spent and fulfilled in every sense of the word. It took over a minute before I was able to regain any sort of composure. I wiped my tired running pussy with paper. It sent more shivers throughout my body but I couldn’t go there again. I was exhausted but oh oh so happy. The tears in my eyes now were those of pure delight, happiness and peace. Whatever had just happened to me was something incredibly special, wonderful, heavenly. I flushed the toilet, washed my hands and yawned. I was spent. Fully and utterly.