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My pronouns are..

Found 4,437 results

  1. PPP

    Kazuma Peeing with a Boner

    From the album: OmoSuba!!

    As a guy, I can sympathize with how hard (heh) this must be for him.
  2. macgyversgirl

    a desprite flight

    18 year old mac had just started working for the phonix foundation. He had been paired with jack out in the filed. Were mac used his brains jack was the gun man. Him and jack were waiting to broad a plane to head back home from thier first mission toghter. Mac counted wait to get on the plane as he really needed a wee. He had needed to go sevral hours ago but had put of going in order to get the mission over and done with and what kind of secret agent gose hang on a minit can we stop hunting down crinmals i need a wee that just seamed so childish. This standing aroind waiting for the plane was not helping his need. He wasent like jack who would go anywere if the need arouse. Mac liked a toielt and some privicey. He was using all his will power right now not to do a full on potty dance in frount of jack. He didnt want the older spy to make fun of him and it wasent like jack could help him anyways. Mac nearly jumped for joy when the plane landed but his joy didnt last long when he relsised this plane had no bathroom due to it been a miltrey plane he didnt no how or if he was gonna make the 4hr joumery home. mac was beginig to drive jack mad with his paceing around the plane. "will you sit down i cant watch you walking around for the next 3 and half hours " said jack mac was amazed how relaxed jack was how could he not need to go but then hes older then mac and had more experince as well. mac counted stop himself bending over at the waist trying to contain his liquied he felt like a little kid but it was so painful by now and he had to stop it from coming out he counted remember a time he had been so desprite in his life normaly he could find some were to go if thier was not a toielt around and he didnt want to embrass himself he would try and relax himself to go behind a tree but that was when he was out of site and when it was really really bad. how he wished he had a tree right now. jack looks at the kid and takes in his aprence he was about to ask what was wroung but having nices and nepthews he quikly worked out the problem but didnt understand how some one macs age could let it get this bad. he tryed to work out what he could do for the kid as it was clear the kid was not going to make it back home with dry pants how ever hard he tryed jack got up and went to the piloits area he new pilots had to pee and they had specile bags they kept in the cock pit for eminceys for when they counted land or somthing. jack told them the situation with mac and they handed him one of the bags and jack went back to mac. "here you go" said jack holding out the bag to mac "whats that" said mac thew gritted treeth "its a pee bag thought u may need it" mac looked at jack horrfied at the thought that jack wanted him to go in that mac counted even pee in a bottle so how was he gonna be able to go in a bag. "im fine" said mac trying to stand up straight and look normal but a stroung urge just hit him and he double over clutching himself again "just go i wount even look if thats what you worried about its better then peeing your pants" "i just cant" said mac "why" "i cant go unless in a toielt" "oh your pee shy" "no i just perfer convinces" "when u got to go you got to go hoss i wount judge you for peeing in a bag" all this talk of pee was making macs need worse and he could feel it strating to try and escape he crossed his legs tightly trying to keep it all in. another 5 minits slowly pasted and he felt a sudenr spurt escape damping his boxers he grabs the bag out of jacks hand and trys to undo his belt and trouers with out any more escapeing but trying to keep his inpending flood in and hold the pee bag it was litraully inpossible to do. "let me help you" said jack he quikly undid macs belt and trouers then turn around and go to another part of the plan wistling so mac new he had pricey. mac pulled out his dripping peniouse and aimed it in the bag and let go he was worried the bag wounted hold it all but was amzed at how the spounge in the bottom just socked it all up he had never felt such relife in his life. he sorts him self out lets jack no he can turn around. "fell better now" "much" "lets make a deal let me no when u need to go so we can come up with somthing befor it gets that bad again" "ok" mac new it was going to be hard he never like letting people no so unfornally for jack thier may be more situations like this one.
  3. Hi everybody! One and a half, possibly two years ago, I posted a series of three short stories that were quite well received. I also said that I originally intended to write more, but I had ran out of inspiration. Well, inspiration came back this summer and I wrote two more chapters (the second being almost a chapter and a half, given it's length and the fact that it contains two episodes), plus I pulled a George Lucas and went back to fix things that probably didn't need to be fixed in the original three tales (a move that no doubt will prompt fans to yell for years that they know that "Sam pissed first" and everything else is a lie), so I thought I'd repost the whole thing here. They'll come out as quickly as the forum lets me post. I hope you'll enjoy them. As the last time, I'll appriciate comments and grammar nazis, as English is not my first language. I'm somewhat certain that this time I'm done with this series, as I fear more tales will get repetitive; also the intention was to keep it grounded in reality, and I feel that the last tale is a bit exagerated (but I like it the way it is). Never say never, though. We'll see. Brace yourself, it's LONG. 1 I met Samantha (Sam for friends) in high school. You wouldn't call her a beauty: short, the face a tad too thin and long, the jaw and chin a bit too angular, skinny to a fault (despite seemingly having a black hole installed inside her stomach, if you had to guess by how much she eats) and basically flat chested. Her surly attitude and a seriously bad case of Bitchy Resting Face Syndrome didn't help making her popular, but it's one of those cases when actually there's plenty of sweetness and charm under the thick rough crust created by her extreme shyness. I was attending an art school; five years in total, at the end of the second year you had to choose a specialization path for the remaining three, which meant that at that point you basically ended up in an entirely new class, with new people. The first day of our third year I sat next to her because she was a somewhat familiar face. She was in another class during the previous two years so I never actually interacted with her, but I saw her walking down the school's corridors and I knew about her reputation, so, being quite shy myself, I appreciated the idea of being paired with the quiet loner one for the first few days in the new class while I tried to gauge the new classmates at my own pace. After a few days of mostly silence, during a lunch break, she started off by introducing herself as "the coarsest girl ever". I looked at her, neatly dressed, properly seated, a reasonable level of table manners, and couldn't help but laugh and point at another girl on the opposite side of the room, spreading all over her chair, chewing loudly with her mouth open at the epicentre of a small but violent dust storm of bread crumbs. Sam frowned and answered "You don't know me yet." It turns out that her definition of "coarse" is cursing like a sailor and having a special brand of dry, inappropriate, cynic and deadpan sense of humour; when she saw that I'm not turned away by the first (I can't care less, in fact) and that I'm actually quite fond of the latter, she started to mellow. It took almost a year to crack the outer shell and make her feel at ease with me, but when it happened, she became one of my best friends, and we're still in touch to this day. Once you pierce through her armour, she goes from fully restrained and secretive to fully unrestrained and open basically overnight. It's as if she has all this boiling steam inside and when you poke a hole through the containment, it vents out on you all in one blow. At that point we talked and joked about almost everything; her sense of humour included a talent for finding innuendos and double entendres, which lead to somewhat open talks about sexual topics, which in the end lead our friendship to occasionally cross into the field of friends with benefits. It's worth telling the story of the first time we had sex even though it has nothing to do with pee, because it shines some light on our relationship and Sam's true personality. We were in Paris for a school trip, visiting art museums; in my class there were twenty students, eighteen girls and only two boys. This required careful planning on the professors' part. There were six rooms booked for the students: four large ones, with four beds, and two smaller, two beds rooms. Us boys got one of the small ones, Sam and another girl got the other one, all the other girls were put in the four beds ones. Ironically, I wasn't the one the professors were keeping an eye on: my fellow male classmate had a girlfriend and they took care to keep them separated and put her in one of the large rooms where they thought mischief was less likely to happen. We were also dragged around the city on a tight schedule for the whole day for several days in a row, probably endeavouring to physically tire us in a further attempt to prevent "inappropriate behaviours". Of course it was all for nothing, as, a couple of days in, some switcheroo happened at night: I was booted out of my room, the girlfriend took my place, Sam's room-mate went in the large four bed room left by the girlfriend because the other three girls didn't want me, so I ended up with Sam in the other small room. It may seem a theme in our relationship, but I honestly had no naughty plans, nor with Sam, nor with any of the other girls involved; it just happened. Even more ironically, it all started with a slightly insulting joke on Sam's lack of curves. As soon as I settled in, we of course started talking and joking about what was probably going on in the other room. "We're going to behave in this room, however", I said at one point. "Besides, if you take off that pyjama jacket I'll have a hard time distinguishing the chest from the shoulder blades." Don't think it was mean, jokes like this were a common occurrence between us, and she was more than capable of answering back, which was what I was expecting. She didn't fight back, though. Instead, she said "That's unfair because I can't yell back at you as it'll cause troubles. I'm not mad though, I know you speak out of ignorance, so I'll have to school you." She pulled her jacket up, revealing her naked tiny boobs, and pointed at her nipples. "See these darker thingies? They mark the front side. Downstairs there are other clues as well." Being a diligent pupil, I had to study said clues in depth, and that was the beginning of our on and off sexual relationship; nothing too serious nor too continuative, we talked about it WAY more than we did anything (at least together). It turns out that despite our frankness about sex and our occasional indulgence in it, there was one thing we both hid from each other: our pee fetish. This is the story of how I discovered it, and possibly it opens the way for the stories of the subsequent escapades this discovery led to. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ A few years after high school ended, we were having a New Year's Eve party at a friend's vacation house in the Alps. It was a thin and tall town house in a small village, with four floors: there was the entrance floor at street level, with the kitchen and a living room; above it, two other floors with a couple of small rooms each and a bathroom. Finally, a large basement room, which, since the house was built on a slope, was partially underground on the road side but had a balcony that opened on the valley on the opposite side. We had the party in the large basement. At about two in the morning, we were all drunk enough that things went tranquil and that the crowd split in smaller groups which moved upstairs to other rooms in the house for quieter chats; me and Sam ended up in a small room with a sofa on the top floor, where she was planning to sleep. I'll make it clear that we were not wasted, merely tipsy enough to be more inclined than usual to joke, laugh and be silly, and probably overstep some inhibitions. And therefore we joked, laughed and behaved silly. At some point she said, "Stop acting like an idiot, if I keep laughing like this I'll pee myself!” I promptly ignored her, and after a while, matter-of-factly, she added "There, now you did it. Happy?" and laughed a bit more. Thinking she was joking, I told her to go eff herself. She didn't bother to argue, she just lifted her skirt to show that indeed there was a small wet patch on her green panties. It was the first time I ever saw actual peed garments in person, so I probably stared at them longer than I should have. Anyway, she pulled her skirt back down, got up and said "I'd better go to the bathroom before you make me make a mess. I'll have to sleep in here, you know." I was thinking at that wet patch, happy that I was lucky enough to have a female friend who was in the habit of pulling up her clothes and expose her private parts to prove her point, when Sam came back, locked the door, sat on her ankle in front of me and asked, straight to the point: "Do you like peed panties?" I don't know why, I didn't want to confess her this fetish, so I just said "Don't be silly." "You were staring at them a few minutes ago." "Well, of course, I tend to watch when a girl pulls up her skirt in front of me, you know. Also, the fabric was sticky enough that I could almost see your pussy through it." "Nonsense, you've seen my pussy before, and with nothing in the way obstructing the view to boot." You could argue that no matter how many times you've had sex with someone, you'll always find her private parts arousing, but alcohol is not conducive to logic debates, and besides I had the impression that she was trying to go somewhere with that topic. Indeed, since I wasn't answering, she went on, "I enjoy them." "Wet panties?" "No, biscuits. Of course it's pissed panties, that's what we're talking about! You know, sometimes when my flatmate is not at home and I don't have to go out, I just pee in my pants whenever I need. If I feel really frisky I may keep them on for the rest of the day and pee through them again later a couple more times. It depends." She shrugged and smirked. At this point, despite my best effort, I felt my penis standing to attention, and she noticed it despite my attempts to change position to hide it (or possibly because of that). She put a hand on my crotch, where I was somewhat literally pitching a tent with the fabric of my trousers, and said "Gotcha! I knew it!", then she leaned on me and whispered in my ear "You know, I actually just did it in the bathroom". "What?" I'm actually not that dumb, I was just trying yet again to keep up the appearances for some stupid reason. "Ate a biscuit", she answered, and smirked again. She leaned back, raised her skirt once more and showed me a much wider and wetter patch on her panties, starting from her crotch and shooting up between her butt cheeks. There was no "almost" there, I could clearly see the fabric, now semitransparent, clenching to everything, her pussy lips, her dark bush, her buttocks. And there was no "almost" in terms of my erection as well, no sense in faking anything now. I was speechless because up to that point pee had always been nothing more than a naughty fantasy for me; I watched videos and read several sexy stories on the topic, but never acted on it nor felt the need to bring it in a sexual relationship. I did not know how to react, whether to go all in or back away and keep it a mere fantasy, but in the end I did not have to take any decision, as Sam was already unzipping and pulling down my pants, so I let her take control of the operations. She sat on my right thigh and while I was registering the feeling of warm peed panties (and her pussy through them) pressed against the naked skin of my leg, she started humping my thigh and jerking me with the right hand. Then, when humping stopped being enough, she slipped the left hand inside her panties, all while I was just there, like an idiot, not contributing to anything. Anyway she seemed quite capable and content to do all by herself and we both reached a powerful orgasm. After we regained our breath, Sam took off her panties, still damp and still warm, used them to clean up my sperm and wipe herself, and threw everything in a small plastic bag she picked from the travelling bag she had with her for this short vacation. She cheekily licked one damp finger winking at me, then curled up against me on the small sofa, where we cuddled a bit before falling asleep. The next morning we were quite aware of what happened, but she downplayed it as "another one of our escapades" and a weak attempt to discuss the pee fetish was met with "we will, but not now." Anyway I didn't feel nor I had the impression she was feeling any kind of regret, and in fact the first day of the new year went on business as usual (and indeed some months later I had the confirmation that not only nothing bad happened that night, it was actually the start of something better that I'll tell you next time). Bonus fact, Sam had no spare panties, so she went around commando-style for the rest of the next day until we went back home. Thankfully her skirt was thick and long enough to hide it. I obliquely teased her a bit about it, but with her usual style she answered "If you dare let anybody know, I'll kick your balls till they come out of your ears." 2 It took a while, after that New Year's Eve party, before the topic resurfaced. Sam and I had our usual quasi-daily chats while working (we are both freelance graphic designers/visual artists, which means that our computers are turned on basically the whole day, that we spend a lot of time in front of them, and that nobody is going to bother us if we take small breaks to type things in the Facebook chat or on Skype from time to time), but it was business as usual: asking suggestions, comparing works, making snarky comments on something idiotic the client of the moment asked or said, a bit of news/mood-of-the-day; stuff like that. Pee entered our conversation once when we were videochatting on Skype on a Friday evening (yeah, lame, I know), with vague discussions on when it started, what we like, where the boundaries are, etc. Don’t get your fantasy geared up, it was an almost clinical discussion; what I gathered was that Sam was already experimenting with this fetish for quite some time when we first met in high school, that it had been a domestic and private affair she didn't feel the need to share with anybody else until recently, that she loved the feeling of wetness and heat on her skin and occasionally liked the taste and that she valued the naughtiness factor of “doing the ‘wrong’ thing” over everything else; also, that the boundaries were hormones-dependant: in the heat of the moment she could be naughty and careless, but when the arousal settled down, she wanted her and her stuff to be fresh and clean as quickly as possible. She also added that her pee fetish seemed to have some sort of slow cycle, swinging over the course of months between mild obsession to almost total lack of interest irregardless of the sexual drive of the moment. On my side, I told her that I discovered it through internet surfing, that I like to watch but never had nor felt the need to have any direct experience prior to our night at the party, so I didn't really know where my boundaries were, but I love nonchalance and confidence over anything else and that I don't care and sometimes I'm even turned off by pain and desperation, feeling or even only pretending to feel shame, humiliation, regret, and such; also, as stupid as it may sound for someone with this fetish, I’m a bit germophobe, so I too am not too fond of feeling dirty/smelly. She said, "If you like to watch, I'll give you something to look at sooner or later", winked and that was it for the topic that evening, and for the immediate future. What a tease! Soon after that day, every freelancer’s favourite time started: the deadline traffic jam season. Scientists should investigate it. I’m ready to testify that clients are a special race of human beings who periodically go in hibernation, then wake up all at the same time in specific months and call you one after the other with jobs that must be completed at all costs for the day before yesterday. Two peculiarities of the lingo of this weird race is that “for the day before yesterday” is meant to be taken literally, while “at all costs” is just an idiom that doesn’t actually refer to any kind of pecuniary aspect; don’t let common sense, a dictionary or the laws of physics fool you. My deadline crunch time was acceptable, but Sam’s seemed really bad. I could see her getting progressively more and more frantic on our Skype chat until, about three weeks later, I got a mid-afternoon Skype videocall. As I accepted it I was greeted by an extreme close-up of Sam's teeth, a fraction of a second before having my ears blown off by the scream “DONE!” She was shouting straight into the webcam’s microphone “The end! Finished! Completed! Archived! Sent! Job done! Case closed! Other-synonyms-I-can’t-come-up-with-now! I. Am. FREE!” I meekly peeled my eardrums off the wall behind me while she added “Half a day in advance as well. I am indeed the best”, then she put the webcam down and adjusted the angle to give me a complete framing of the scene as she ostentatiously put her feet on the desk with her legs crossed and leaned back on her chair with one hand behind her head; she was trying hard to give her best ‘cartoonishly arrogant boss’ impression. She reach out of the frame to pick up a bottle and took a good sip of water acting as if it was some kind of rare and expensive wine. “Brilliant”, I replied, stone-faced. “You know what happens when you deliver earlier than expected? Enjoy tighter deadlines next time.” “You’re only jealous because you can’t yet sprawl on your chair like this.” Another sip of her pretend precious wile, this time with her pinky pointing up. Deliberately boorish, you had to admire it. “I still have a couple of things to do, but I’m in no hurry. What are you going to do now, with your reacquired freedom?” “The same thing I do every time a complete a tight deadline, Pinky. Masturbate furiously”, with her usual sarcastic smirk. “Thank goodness you started a videochat, then.” “It was a joke, you literal wanker. Plus, YOU still have work to do. Focus. I know I’m irresistible, but don’t let me distract you.” We chat idly for a while as I went on working; standard bantering, occasional teasing, our usual stuff. She was lazily browsing the web while we talked, I guess; I could occasionally hear Facebook notification sounds, or a muffled Youtube video. She casually took a couple more sips here and there. I didn’t really pay that much attention to the chat window, I was mostly focussed on Photoshop and the job. It took a while, but finally my brain registered that Sam’s answers had become monosyllabic and the sounds in the background had changed. A faint static noise with occasional hissing, squishy sounds and some short panting. I moved my eyes from the monitor with Photoshop to the one with the chat window and saw that her expression had changed too. She was very intently watching in what I presumed was the direction where her computer screen was. “Sam?” “Mmmmm?” “Sam, what are you doing?” I asked with that kind of ‘I’m-not-angry-I’m-just-disappointed’ tone you’d use when talking to an unruly kid. “I’ve... got distracted.” “Sam, are you seriously watching porn?” Same tone. “Ehm...” “While we’re chatting?” “It’s not my fault.” “Of course not. This time you were really convinced that Pornhub had finally started broadcasting MyMiniPony cartoons and you just wanted to check it out.” “It just… happened. You browse Reddit… you absent-mindedly include some ‘special’ subreddits, just out of habit… you follow a couple of posted links… you land on something interesting… feel a nice bladder pressure... a couple of weeks of built-up steam that lowers your common sense… Linda won’t be home until after dinner...” (Linda is her flatmate, in case you’re wondering). Another couple of moaning from the video lead to a couple of moaning from Sam, who in the meantime had changed her pose slightly, her ankles still crossed but her thighs open, and caressing her crotch with the tip of her right hand. “On second thought, I might actually revise my previously stated opinion and distract you too.” She panted. I was about to be sarcastic but I decided to just shut up. On one hand, Sam was wearing thick white socks, grey sweatpants and a loose dark blue hoodie, the least sexy outfit you could think of (and you can just imagine how baggy it looked on someone as skinny as her); on the other hand I genuinely find there’s something magic about a girl truly enjoying herself irregardless of (almost) every other aspect of the thing. Also, wise men from ancient times teach that there’s a time when snark leads to fun, and a time when snark only earns you a well deserved insult and prematurely ends a potentially sexy videochat; this moment felt like one of the latter kind. Sam started biting her lower lip and grabbed one boob through the hoodie with the free hand. She opened her mouth and ran her thumb on her lips and slipped down a bit more on the chair. Once again biting her lower lip and caressing her chest with one hand, she slipped the other one inside her pants; her eyes nailed on the screen and her mouth opened, shaped like an O, as if she was looking at the most unbelievably erotic scene ever. She closed her eyes, bit her lip once more and the hand inside her pants started moving more deliberately. She gave another glance at the screen, then suddenly she put her feet on the ground, sitting near the edge of her chair with her legs wide open, her back arched and her left arm straight behind her to steady herself. With a deeper sigh she stopped caressing her pussy, peeled her eyes off the monitor to look down at her crotch as a dark patch appeared and quickly spread on the fabric, soon followed by a pool forming between her legs and a cascade of pee rolling off the edge of the chair and rumbling as it hit the floor. She started rubbing her pussy again while she was still peeing, the flow increasing and decreasing in intensity in sync with the movement of her hand. Her sighing became louder, and as the flood ended she gave a couple of stronger, faster strokes before peeling her hand out of the pants. The fingers were so wet they were shiny. She watched down ecstatically at her wet crotch, caressing the borders of the patch with both hands before collapsing back on the chair. She dragged her left hand up her torso to her mouth and started sucking one finger while the right hand went straight back inside her pants, moving quickly and deliberately. Her eyes closed, her moaning and panting raised until a final, deep and slow breath signalled that she reached her orgasm. She opened her eyes and looked down at her crotch with a dreamy expression, then gave a quick glance at the monitor where she probably saw that I wasn’t wasting the show she was giving me, and smiled, peeled her hand out of her pants only to move it on the wet patch, using her middle finger to lazily caress her pussy through the fabric a bit more until I came as well. Sam adjuster her position and curled her legs on the chair, I don’t know if oblivious or deliberately seeking for the pee puddle on it, and we sat there for a short time doing a bit of small talk that was meant to be telematic cuddling but soon switched to a more playful sexual bantering. “You really got it bad, don’t you?” I said at one point. “I’ll admit I’m going through the mildly obsessive phase, plus there’s this idea of bringing someone else in all this that came out of nowhere and doesn’t seem to want to go away for the time being, and it demands attention while it’s here.” “I’m not complaining.” ”Thank goodness I know this really nice guy who is being a good test subject.” Wink. “Now this is getting cold and sticky and unpleasant, I’d better clean up and shower before Linda comes home.” She blew me a kiss and closed the call. I tried my best to concentrate back on the job I had to finish, but it wasn’t easy, I tell you. 3 When I finally finished my jobs, towards the end of the month, I invited Sam at my place for lunch. I once again swear I did not plan for anything naughty on that specific day (although I definitely wanted to explore the options for the near future), I just wanted to spend some quality time with a dear friend without her flatmate in the way: they're not really friends, so Sam is always a bit restrained when she's around. This time I wanted the full Funny Coarse Sam Experience, and I wanted it live, so we chose my apartment, where I live alone, to let her feel fully at ease to unleash her personality. Besides, I enjoy cooking and I'm quite good at it, I wasn't in the mood for restaurants or takeaway food, and if you'll ever see Sam approaching a stove, run for your life and be prepared to hire a professional cleaning crew for the aftermath. Or torch the whole building in the worst case scenario. She arrived in the late morning, wearing a jumper, shirt, jeans, flat shoes, and dragging her usual huge handbag (which I always suspected being a luggage trying - and failing miserably - to cosplay as a handbag). We had a nice and fun and chatty morning as I was preparing our lunch (Sam was in a really good mod and her wit was in an extraordinary shape), had a pleasant time during the meal, then Sam offered to wash the dishes and that's when things took an unexpected yet enjoyable turn. While she was rinsing the dishes, she suddenly said, "This cold water is a stab at my poor bladder!" I quickly turn towards her and saw a dark, shiny patch expanding between her legs; I dragged my eyes up, saw her cheeky smirk and decided to play along. I started to move towards her, but she stopped me with "Don't be greedy. Also, I have to finish the chores first", which she did. The patch stopped expanding, she must've leaked just enough to wet the jeans, but I couldn't peel my eyes off it while Sam moved around the kitchen to finish cleaning stuff, went out on the balcony to put the garbage in the bins as if wearing pants decorated by a noticeable pee patch was the most natural thing ever. I was thinking that she didn't go to the bathroom since she arrived at my place and trying to calculate how much water she drank during lunch, in order to figure out what to expect from the near future. When she finished tidying up, she went back on the rug in front of the sink, stood there with her weight on her right leg and the left leg relaxed, her right hand hanging with the thumb from the jeans' pocket, and opened the floodgates. I watched the patch becoming shiny again, expand and start running down her leg; this time she didn't stop me when I went closer. I put my hands on her hips and whispered in her er not to waste it all here. She looked at me, grinned and stopped peeing. She threw her jumper and shirt on the table; I already knew that bras were rare entries in Sam’s outfits, but it’s always nice to see that fact confirmed. I picked up the wet rug, she took off her jeans and panties and used them to haphazardly wipe any spillage on the floor, then we moved towards the bathroom with our load of pee wet clothes and rugs. Despite the horniness, I couldn't help but laugh at the image of Sam walking down my hallway entirely naked but still wearing socks and shoes. Thank God she's good sport and that didn't spoil the mood. In the bathroom, she finished undressing ("There, shoes off. Happy?"), I did the same, we threw the wet clothes in the washing machine and stepped into my rectangular shower. I hugged her from behind, moved her hair on one side and bent a bit to start kissing her neck (her head barely reaches my shoulders if I'm standing straight). She licked my fingers, then I started to tease one of her puffy nipples with one hand, gently circling around the border of the areola, and let the other hand caress her body and slip down to her crotch, where I playfully ruffled her bush before starting to tease the inside of her thighs and lastly moving to her clit. When I finally put my finger inside her, I whispered in her ear, "Now you can let go whatever's left." A couple of drips. Then a violent spurt that splashed on my palm and stopped immediately. What surprised me the most was the heat. I mean, I felt heat back at the night of the party when she was rubbing her crotch against my thigh, but I didn't know how much of it was the pee's and how much was just body heat. I could see she was uncharacteristically tense and was having a bit of trouble relaxing and letting it all go. Moving my hand from the nipple to the middle of the chest, I could feel her heart beating fast. I gently kissed her on the cheek and on the neck again, she smiled. I moved the hand from the chest to her stomach and started caressing it gently. It took a couple of false starts, but finally the stream started and didn't stop, splashing on the palm of the hand I still had firmly on her crotch, and then all around as I was moving my fingers to masturbate her. I moved the dry hand back to her tiny breasts and started again to kiss her neck as I kept fingering her. When the stream ended (and she indeed had surprisingly capacious tanks) I cupped my fingers to save a bit of pee and swapped hands: the one that was playing with her boobs moved downstairs to keep stimulating her, while the one with the small puddle of pee moved up, spreading the juice over her belly and her chest. Sam took control for a bit, grabbed my hand and licked my wet fingers, then when she finally came I used my free arm to hug her and steady her while the orgasm made her legs feel a bit wobbly. I kissed her cheek and she smiled again, leaning her head against me. We then sat cross legged on the wet floor of the shower (or better, I sat cross legged and she sat on top of me; my shower may be a bit larger than normal, but it's not exactly a castle) where, after regaining her breath, she took my hard penis in her hands. "Care to reciprocate?" "Sorry! I peed right before lunch. I could try to push hard..." "Don't. If you fart I'll start laughing and you'll spoil the moment. Remember that you owe me one next time, for now you earned you treat anyway." Indeed she took good care of me despite the cramped situation we were in, then we hugged again. We kissed, and that was the moment when I realized that our on and off physical relationship was about to step up and going to be permanently on from this point onwards. Bonus prosaic fact: we took a shower together afterwards and when we stepped out of the shower I mused whether or not this was going to be a much sexier reprise of the commando-style day at the party, while her clothes washed and dried. Unfortunately she showed me that the cosplaying luggage handbag was storing a spare change of pants, socks, panties and shirt, which was somewhat unlucky for me, but confirmed that Sam definitely had stuff planned for that afternoon. 4 After the last few escapades it was clear that we were involved into something more than our usual friend with benefits situation; in short Sam and I started to date. Nothing exceptional to report there. We spent quality time together and we had our intimate moments, most of them of the standard drier variety. Some time later, during spring, we had a date whose aftermath was particularly remarkable for our tales. It started very nicely on a Friday night with sushi, a walk in the nice evening weather, then we went back to my place and, one thing leads to another, we had good old conventional sex, no pee involved; Sam spent the night at my place afterwards. The next morning I woke up and Sam was snoring soundly on her side of the bed. She’s a champion sleeper, I bet even bombs can’t wake her up. I was there laying on one side, watching Sam's silhouette outlined by the morning light coming through the window, my face stuck with the dumbest happiness smile ever. I felt a bit frisky and entertained the thought of waking her up with kisses, but then decided against it and sneaked out of the bed as quietly as I could in order to not wake her up, then went to the bathroom for my morning routine. Now, I need to digress a bit and describe my bathroom to make you better understand what happened next. To begin with, my apartment is quite old. The bathroom door is a bit wonky, it grinds against something as you close it all the way and makes a horrible loud noise. I tried to lubricate the hinges, with little to no results. Not a big deal during the day, but it was early in the morning and Sam was still sleeping, so I just left the door ajar to avoid the racket. The bathroom is small and rectangular. The door is on one of the short walls, near the north-east corner. In front of the door, along the eastern long wall, there’s the sink, then the toilet bowl. Above the toilet on the other short wall, close to the south-east corner there’s the window; next to it, on the south-west corner and extending along part of the western long wall, there’s the shower. It’s rectangular as well as I mentioned before, and the box has sliding doors that open on the corner. I brushed my teeth at the sink and then I stepped towards the toilet for my morning pee when the slight arousal from before gave me a naughty thought. I was having a bit of morning wood. I discarded the plan to pee in the toilet and upgraded it to peeing in the shower while I was washing myself. Then I eyeballed the shower and upgraded it again to standing outside the shower and pee inside it on the shower tray, without any water running, before stepping in for the shower. You might thing it’s pretty mild, but at this point I still didn’t do much with my fetish beyond enjoying whichever sexy mischief Sam came up with. Personal experimentation in the field was and still is not my forte, but once in a while I get bitten by some weird fetishist bug. Anyway, it was decided. I stepped towards the corner of shower, kicked away the rug to avoid potential mess, opened the doors, pulled my pyjama pants and underwear down to the knees, stood there with my legs as wide as the pants allowed, and started to pee on the tray. Fetish aside, it’s nice to be able to go freeform when you have a semi. I experimentally arched my stream around as yellow puddles were forming on the plate; you could already get a hint of the smell. The corner of my eye caught some unexpected movement behind me. I yelped and turned quickly to my right. The startle closed my tap, but with the sudden move I still managed to involuntarily spray some pee on the floor outside the shower. “Nice boner. I’m happy to see you too.” said a familiar sarcastic voice. The moving shadow was of course Sam. Due to my position, giving the back to the ajar bathroom door, with the light coming from the window in front of me, she could come right up to me before I could register anything. “Sam, you startled me!” “Yeah, very manly scream you did there.” “I thought you were sleeping.” “I woke up to the sound of the Niagara Falls”, she sniffed a bit, “and apparently an aroma that is not coffee.” She flaunted her signature Cheshire Cat grin. “Better than coffee, actually. I would’ve been upset if it was hot coffee that stuff you spilled on me.” I looked down and saw that I didn’t only spray the floor. A bit of pee managed to reach one of Sam’s feet as well. “Oh, sorry!” “Yeah, you should be ashamed of yourself. Next time aim better, please. Don’t waste it on the floor.” She came closer, reached on the shower tray with the foot and played a bit with her toes inside the puddle with a “hmmm” before letting the foot rest on the tray’s edge. “Are you done yet? I hope not, I too want to play ‘the little fireman’.” she said, grabbing my penis. This made wonders for my erection, but erections are not ideal for pee. I resumed my position, but I only managed to squeeze out a few unsatisfactory spurts. “Sorry, I might need a bit of encouragement.” “I’ll give you a good one.” she said, and pressed against my side. I imagined she’d masturbate me or something, but I was wrong. Oh, boy, VERY wrong. I was still standing with the legs wide. Her crotch was resting against my thigh. After a short pant from her, I felt a hiss and sudden warmth. She was peeing on my leg in full force. Her pyjama’s shorts barely absorbed the liquid, which was flowing freely out of the loose legs and on my thigh. “Oh, by the way, this is how you properly wet someone’s feet.” she added cheekily. If I were less horny I would’ve had second thoughts about the mess she was making on the unprotected floor, but I was more aroused that I’ve ever been: the warmth, the wetness, the feel, the smell, the thumping sound, her stare, her hand gently squeezing my penis... against all odds, this seemed to loosen something up for me, as I too managed to start peeing again. As Sam’s pee was thundering on the floor, my stream arched inside the shower under Sam’s control until my bladder emptied. As my stream died out, Sam pointed my penis upwards, so that the final trick rolled down the shaft and on Sam’s hand. In the end our leaks combined resulted in a proper mess. Our legs and our pants were drenched, there was a sizeable warm puddle around our feet and on the shower plate, and the “aroma” had got a lot stronger, but surprisingly for me, not unpleasant. I turned my head towards Sam. She was still grinning wildly, and she was starting to stroke my penis. I had other plans. I put my hand on her waist and accompanied her in front of me, then slid the hand inside her panties as I leaned to kiss her. My hand registered warmth and wetness from both her pussy and the clothes. She raised on tiptoe to kiss me back and put her pee dripping hand on the back of my head. I was so engulfed by my feelings for her that I didn’t object. I worked my ways to her neck with my kisses, starting with a gentle lop on her earlobe. She leaned against the shower box. I moved down to the hollow of her neck while I was raising her shirt, then went straight for her left nipple, teasing it with my tongue while I was using my hand to play with the other boob. She arched her back slightly and moaned. I trailed the tongue around the areola and gave a final playful squeeze to her nipple before I kneeled and started to kiss her belly button. I made my way further down while I removed her pants and panties, then gave her tummy a final kiss at the edge of her bush, before stopping to stare at the landscape. I was mesmerized by the way the light shone on the inside of her thighs. She was panting and looking at me. We both hesitated a bit. I had already given her plenty of oral sex in standard conditions, but never after a pee. Actually, I never tasted anyone’s pee up to that moment. But the moment was so perfect I couldn’t help myself, so I caved in and kissed her warm, wet pussy; teasing the inside of her thighs first would’ve been a better approach, but I was a bit worried about the effect the taste of her pee could have on me, so I went straight for the main attraction. I ran my tongue between her labia. It was wetter than usual, and her normal taste had a strong salty overtone, with a not entirely pleasant bitter aftertaste. When we discussed it some time later she said, “That’s morning pee for you. I don’t like it either.” and then added cheekily, “With proper hydration I can brew better stuff for us during the day, next time.” and winked. Despite the taste wasn’t entirely of my liking, the only thing I could think was “I licked Sam’s pee! I’m tasting her pee for the first time!” Part of me was hoping that she had a bit more in store for a bonus spurt. I didn’t like the taste, but I wanted more of it; I wanted to experience it fully. The thought surprised me, but it made me even hornier. I realized I was hesitating. I didn’t want to give her the impression that her taste was ruining my mood, so focussed again on her pussy. I sucked her labia, then straightened my tongue to lick from the bottom of her pussy to the top, when I finally touched her clit. I gently put my lips around it for a delicate stimulation, then sucked on it with a bit more energy. She was panting heavily and moaning and shaking, probably close to an orgasm. Her bush was tickling my nose, her hand clenching the shower box. I didn’t want to finish it there, but I gave her clit another good suck. Her knees bent a little. Instead of holding her up, I accompanied her on the floor. There was pee all over the place, but who cares. She spread her legs and used her hands to guide my penis to her pussy. I put it inside and waited a few seconds to enjoy the velvety feeling of her vagina enveloping my shaft and to let her take a breath, then started to thrust. We had sex there, in the middle of the large puddle we made before. We came. I had one of the best orgasms of my entire life. Afterwards we sat there on the floor of the bathroom, regaining our breath. We kissed again. “Have I already told you I love you?” I said. “Several times, but it’s always welcome.” Spring was off to a good start. 5 In May I had to attend a comic convention, so I left the city for a few days. I hat to work at the booth of one of my customers, drawing sketches on the books I illustrated whenever someone bought one. We arrived on Thursday evening, so that we could be ready to set up the booth early next day, when the convention actually opened. Day one, Friday: The first day was boring and uneventful. After dinner I went back to my hotel room, a sad little place with brown striped wallpaper, barely wide enough to have a single bed and a wardrobe in it. I sat on the bed, opened my laptop and called Sam via Skype. When she answered the webcam was recording an empty chair. “How’s it going?” her voice asked. There was a rustling noise in the background. “Well. Today it was quiet. Fridays are always lazy days at conventions, the big crowd will come tomorrow. I don’t even know why they bother doing three days instead of just the weekend. You?” “Lazy day here as well. Rainy too. It’s pouring outside.” “You should’ve come along. Four nights us two alone in a hotel room. It’s so tiny we would’ve had to sleep on top of each other, but I don’t see a problem in that.” “I bet you don’t you pervert. So, you do miss me.” “Always.” “Good boy. In that case I have a present for you. A memento, let’s say.” She stepped inside the frame and leaned against the seatback of her desk char with the arm, the weight on one leg and the other crossed over it. “Ta-dah! Noticed anything?” “You are unusually well dressed for a lazy evening at home?” I ventured. “Just that?” “You went somewhere crazy and want to brag about it?” “Getting colder. It’s the opposite of what I had in mind in at least two ways: first, I’m staying home, second, I plan on getting warmer soonish.” A mischievous smirk on her face showed that she was up to no good. “Promising!” “So, you’re not seeing it?” “A little clue?” “Isn’t anything I’m wearing familiar?” I gave it a better look and something dawned in my mind. “Ok, I’ll fall for the trap so you can have it your way and call me a pervert again. Is the skirt the one you were wearing at the new year’s eve party when, you know, pee happened?” “Indeed you are a pervert, but you guessed right!” She straightened up. “I’m also wearing something else from that night.” She raised the skirt and indeed, I saw familiar green panties under it. I straightened up and paid more attention to the chat; this was heading in a direction I liked. “They seem a bit too dry, I think I prefer to remember them the way they were the last time.” “I hoped you would. Let’s fix that, pronto.” She came closer to the webcam, framed from her knee to just above her waist. “What about Linda?” I asked. Linda is her flatmate. “It’s Friday and she has a social life, unlike us nerds. She’ll be out clubbing until late. Now stop ruining the atmosphere, I’ve been filling the tanks for hours for us and I’m too horny to deal with trifles.” She raised her skirt once again, widened her legs, reached out of the frame with her hand and brought back an impressive beer mug, which she put under her crotch. No special effects at start. A small stream started to fall gently from her pants, bending towards her right leg. She angled the mug to catch it better without stopping. The hissing got louder and the stream stronger. I was transfixed by the whole scene; despite the loud noise, the pale yellow stream was flowing gently, with an almost calming sweetness. The widening wet patch that started to show the bush under the panties, the gurgling of the pee pouring inside the mug, the bubbles where the stream met the surface of the liquid inside the mug, all was mesmerizing. I started to rub myself. Her free hand came into the frame; she put her pointer finger inside the opposite leg hole near the top, slid it down and pulled the crotch of her panties to one side. The stream danced around the edge of the pants, seemingly getting stronger for a minute as the pee that was being held inside by the fabric poured out, splashing her hand and the inside of her thighs. The hissing, without the panties to muffle it, got louder, and the stream, now unimpeded by the fabric, arched forward a bit. She quickly adjusted the position of the mug to stop the pee spraying out of it; she then must’ve decided that it worked better with the panties in place, so she slid them back. That interfered with the stream, that split for a second, creating a small rivulet that rolled along her leg before reaching the edge of the mug. The soggy fabric bulged and made the hissing sound squishier, but the stream was still flowing. She must’ve peed for at least a full minute. The gurgling of the pee inside the mug was getting high pitched as the mug filled, then the stream finally started to die down. It wasn’t a forced stop, it was the natural lowering in pressure that signals that there’s nothing left in the bladder. She slid the soaked crotch of her panties on one side to expose her pussy once again to let the last few drops fall freely inside the mug, and it finally ended. She waited a moment then took a deep breath. The mug was almost full, sparkling glares the colour of the straw on her hand. She put it down on the desk, then carefully repositioned her pants where they belonged and straightened a few kinks of the soaked fabric with both hands (I knew she did it just to tease me because she’s well aware that this kind of nonchalance with pee drives me crazy). She stepped back, raised the skirt off her bottom, sat on the chair, smoothed the skirt (or possibly dried her hands in it) and crossed her legs. Just in time for me to come, as I hastily grabbed some paper tissues from the package on the nightstand. She stared up at the monitor and said “Are you already done? Without me?” “Don’t worry, I’m more than ready for a second round, eager to see what you have in store for that mug, but I couldn’t let the previous scene go to waste.” She flaunted her signature Cheshire Cat grin as she reached to picked up the mug. “What I’ll do with this, you say?” The weight of the full mug must’ve caught her off guard, as she jolted it up, spilling some of it’s content on the desk. “Waste it on the furniture? That’s kinda anticlimactic” I said. “No biggies” she said as she wiped the drops off the table with her bare hand, then she put the mug on her lap and cupped her hands around it, like an oversized cup of tea. “Nice and warm, perfect for a rainy night.” She dipped a finger in the mug, then gave it a mischievous lick. “Well, it’s lovely. My kidneys did an awesome job today”, again her signature grin. “Now, wouldn’t you want to be here?” Just as I said, I was already standing to attention for round 2 and about to answer, but then I heard some noise and saw Sam hastily put down the mug, which spilled once again, and turn towards the door of her room. “Linda! What the…” she hissed to let me know what was going on. Ditto, I saw her flatmate through the bedroom door frantically walking in the corridor. Sam ran towards the door to stop her getting in the room, in case she’d notice what was going on at her desk. I overheard some confusing conversation, occasional screaming, then Sam came back, said “Evening’s over, gotta go” and closed the call. A downer ending if I ever saw one. Day two: As expected, Saturday was the craziest day. People were flooding in, the place was packed, hot and somewhat smelly. It turns out that sweat, cheaply painted home-made props and even cheaper burgers from the food stand all mixed together do not make good air fresheners. There were cosplayers who stuck their their cardboard swords in your eyes every time they turned around to check on their friends. There were parents who wouldn’t give a hoot if their kids were tampering with the books with their hands covered in chocolate. There was the damn Star Wars parade who patrolled the premises every other hour blasting the Imperial March in everyone’s ears. Days like the previous one make you resent being bound to the booth. Days like this one make you thank the booth every few minutes as visitors look lustfully at the chair and reasonable amount of personal space it grants you. At lunch I checked my phone and found a WhatsApp from Sam: S: -Drama happened last night. First Linda had a fight with her boyfriend, then, while she was loosing her mind, someone stole her purse. Her boyfriend gone, her money and phone gone, she couldn’t get a taxi or call someone, so she had to walk all the way home, under yesterday’s downpour. I had to calm her down and accompany her to the police.- I: -Poor Linda. I know there are more dramatic aspects of the evening, but… how did you deal with the mug and everything?- S: -While she was getting out of her rain soaked clothes in her bedroom, I rushed back, got out of my pee soaked panties, used them to quickly wiped any spillage and threw them in the paper bin; then I closed my room, helped her getting ready while her mind was all over the place, and left the apartment with her. That skirt must be cursed, every time I wear it I end up walking around commando style for the night. Last time it was more fun, though.- I: -Then what?- S: -Police, then hours sitting with her while she vented. When I finally came back the room was… scented. But I wasn’t in the mood to take advantage of it any more. Besides, it was getting too strong and pungent for my tastes. I just opened the french door to ventilate the room and emptied the mug on a vase on my balcony. Hopefully if she finds anything, she’ll think that the stink is some cat’s fault.- I: -What a waste.- S: -You can say that! I’ve been planning our little moment for the whole day; I was the horniest I’ve been in quite a while, stuff that rivalled my best teenager days; I brewed the finest piss in the land, because of course: I’m awesome and my kidneys can’t help but be awesome too; and by the time I was by myself you were no doubt already snoring in your nice, non smelly hotel room and the last thing I had in mind was to get laid. And Linda! Thank God she was too upset to really think about anything, this time it was really close!- I: -What did you call it yesterday? “Trifles”? I’d plan for those next time if I were you.- S: -It doesn’t seem it’ll be happening anytime soon. I do have a lot of steam piling up, but Linda is all over the place and apparently I’ve been recruited as part of the support team. Goddamnit.- I: -Pity. I’m sorry for you.- And that was it for the afternoon. By the end of the day I was really tired, I dragged myself to the bedroom after dinner, took a shower and fell asleep soon after. Day three: Finally, the last day. It ended up being a cross between day one and two. The morning was once again crazily packed, but in the afternoon it got progressively quieter. By the evening the place looked a bit sad and downtrodden, the occasional late visitor walking around aimlessly hoping for some late discovery or some last minute discount. We packed up the booth, had the “goodbye convention” dinner and went to our rooms for the last time; we’d be going back home the very next morning. I was showering when I heard the phone chirping. When I checked it it was again a WhatsApp from Sam: S: -Open the bloody Skype already!- I fired up my laptop and instantly got a call. “What’s up?” I asked. Sam was clearly very excited and was doing a little dance on the spot. “This morning I subcontracted Linda’s support to her friends. Then her boyfriend came with an entire forest of flowers and apparently a tentative peace was achieved. Then we accompanied her to the restaurant where he invited her for peace talks round two, and she’ll be out the whole night either doing peace round 3 in more practical ways, or being supported by someone who, crucial point, is definitely not me. Blessing the luck that turned another awful day into one of the very rare awesome nights when I’m the sole ruler of the apartment, I arranged a network of spies who will warn me if something goes wrong and deal with it, and rushed home because I too eagerly want to enjoy something that sounds a lot like peace to the untrained ear.” She said, taking off her shirt and tossing it on one side. No bras, like most of the times. Her nipples were hard and pointy. “Blunt.” “Listen. There’s an orgasm that is long overdue as I was meant to have it two days ago. Plus, as soon as things seemed to take the right path this afternoon, I started to drink water like a camel that has been lost in the desert for a month. Either you stop the nonsense this instant, or I’ll take care of myself on my own.” As she was saying this, she stopped her little two steps dance and stood upright on both legs, her hands on her hips. She was still talking when the first drops appeared on the crotch of her jeans. She turned a bit to the right and crossed her legs for a moment when a tiny stream escaped the fabric and started to splash on the floor with a little tingling sound. That wasn’t the sound of liquid dropping on towels, she was likely going on the naked floor. She must’ve been REALLY eager for a mess. I love her more than ever when she’s in this mood. The sound stopped. When she uncrossed the legs, there was a long streak of dark wet fabric along her right leg. She took a deep breath. “So good… rolling down my leg...” Sam is always chatty when she has this much steam piled up. She turned again to be full frontal with the webcam, drops still dribbling from the crotch and started to unbutton her jeans. Pee was lazily dripping from her red panties when she lowered the jeans halfway down her thighs, then she put her hands on the back of her hips and straightened up. She took a step closer to the webcam. Pee never actually stopped dripping lazily and doing little acute splashing noises as it hit the floor while she adjusted, but now the stream was picking up volume. “I said down the leg!”, she murmured as she shifted her weigh on her right leg. The stream obeyed the order and started rolling down her left leg. She gave another sigh and brought both hands on her crotch. Pee gurgled like a little mountain stream, with rivulets dripping through her fingers. “Warm...”, she whispered. She dragged her dripping hands up to her belly, then stuck the thumbs inside the panties and dragged them down, halfway between her crotch and where the pants were. She had stopped peeing again, but clearly some pee must’ve pooled inside her panties, because they were still dripping and two small waterfalls briefly escaped from the two legs hole when she lowered them. The jeans, those never stopped dripping for a second. The must’ve been a lake hanging a few centimetres above her knees. She took another step closer to the camera and started leaking again. No restrain this time, the stream arched over the panties and hit the floor with a thundering sound. She didn’t care. She put her right hand through the stream and dragged it up again once, twice, thrice, each time with a deep, satisfied sigh. She lowered the pressure of the stream and waved her hips to make the stream hit her legs again. She used her fingers to spread her pussy lips and turned a bit on both sides. Pee was splashing everywhere. She brought the right hand to her mouth and sucked the middle finger. Then the pointer. “Mmmmhh”, she murmured. The stream dropped to a rivulet for a second as her left hand darted outside the frame and came back with a regular kitchen glass, which was positioned roughly in front of her crotch. She bent down a bit and shoot her final round, pee splashing inside the glass. When she moved it away the stream died and part one of the show was over. The jeans and the panties were still dripping like crazy, but only a couple of tardy drops were falling from her pussy as she rubbed it a couple of times with her right hand. She brought the glass up to give it a good look, subconsciously sticking the point of her tongue through her lips. It was less than a quarter full of pale yellow pee. She brought the glass to her mouth and poured it in in a single mouthful. She closed her eyes, keeping the pee in her mouth for a second, then gulped it down. She smiled and gave a sigh of satisfaction. The hand that was rubbing her pussy was starting to pick up speed. She licked some drops from the border of the glass and put it down on the desk. She was starting to pant. She clumsily picked up the webcam and when the commotion ended and I could see again, the webcam was framing the floor from a slightly raised position, like a pile of books or something of that nature, and Sam was sitting in the largest of the various pee puddles and splashes that were around. Still rubbing her pussy and panting, she laid back, her legs spread and her knees raised. She sloshed her other hand in the puddle then she used it to tease her nipples. The other hand kept picking up speed. Her pant got faster and louder. When she finally came she splashed the other hand on the floor once again, she arched her back and a final, tiny spurt of liquid jolted out of her pussy. She lay there for a second, catching her breath. The whole thing had been amazing. Despite my tiredness, I savoured every second of it. My orgasm had been as powerful as hers. A few moments later she rolled lazily on the floor, grasped at the camera, and when she finally managed to grab it, she put it down in front of her face. She was laying on her side, dripping pee everywhere, still panting heavily but with a dreamy, relaxed expression and a lovely smile on her face. I mimed a kiss through the ether. She sent one back. “This was you masterpiece, Sam.” No answer, just another smile. “I wish I was there to cuddle you.” “In this mess? Weren’t you germophobic?” “That was too lovely for germs to have anything to do with it.” She sent another kiss. We went on for a bit with caries-inducing telematic cuddles. Finally I said “Tomorrow I’m coming home. Have you vented all your steam? Isn’t there anything left for me?” “A day is long, steam may reach operating pressure levels again. We’ll see.” A wink. Then Sam landed back on Earth, complained that, while it had been fun, she had now to clean up, we kissed each other goodnight and she closed the call.
  4. About to have a friend over who doesn’t know about Omo. Feeling hot and bothered and naughty after a stressful day. Never done this in front of a person Think I can get away with it? Even if I wet myself? Will it be quiet or hiss. Think it might leak? We’ll find out 😉
  5. I did this last week but didn't get photos. Today I had a 540 mile drive from where I was at to home, which provided me with the chance to do one of my favorite things, wet in the car. I knew I had to stop one time for gas, so I couldn't wet before then Here's how it happened. After filling up, I held for a little while and with 280 miles left in the trip, the first spurt happened. Just a small spot. I continued to hold until mile 225. At that point I could no longer hold it (as the next three photos show the progression of the wet spot. I continued drinking the beverages I had packed for trip and drove on. Down to 115 miles to home. Once again feeling the urge to pee, I let it go. ( Flood lines this time and I thought the puddle in the black plastic bag might show up also). To finish off the trip. I was able to finish emptying my bladder as I backed into the driveway. (No picture for this one, as my pants had become so wet, there was wet patch to see). Hope those who see these, enjoy.
  6. This was a request from KarenGranger, which I tried to get done in exactly one month, but I've now barely missed (in my time zone). Bummer 😝 Thanks for reading! *** “TJ, move that sawhorse over here.” “Yes, sir.” TJ Masters easily hoisted the frame – you never drag it – and set it where his dad had indicated. Tony Masters was an extremely diligent builder and craftsman; it was why he was one of the most sought-after contractors in their town. More specifically, by the type of people on the east side of town who could afford to add extra wings to their already-enormous houses. TJ had been working for his father for as long as he could remember – stirring paint and washing paintbrushes as a child, sorting tools and accessories in elementary school, and now, joining his dad at work sites, a position he’d earned by precision, hard work, and virtually never making mistakes. Needless to say, TJ and Tony didn’t live in the same neighborhood as the people they worked for. Tony kept his margins low, but he almost always only worked one job at a time, so, despite his wealthy clientele, he wasn’t exactly pulling in seven figures himself. So one of the most important rules on worksites for TJ was to keep his mouth shut. He was there as a worker; he kept his head down, completed the list of tasks for the day, cleaned up after himself, and left, taking care not leave any boot prints on the property. TJ didn’t really mind. He liked the work, and he wasn’t much of an extrovert, anyway, so when they did end up working at one of his classmate’s houses, it was neither awkward nor distracting. Until today. TJ never knew where they’d be going when they started a new job; he never needed to. He’d just get in the truck with his dad and start work when they got to the house. Today, they pulled onto the grounds of a newer house on the edge of town. Tony parked the car around back and explained that they’d be renovating the pool house. TJ hopped out and started unloading the truck, barely paying attention to the giant house or its inhabitants. On his third and final trip out to the truck, TJ caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and before he could stop himself, he looked. And nearly dropped the armful of lumber he was carrying. Strolling out of the back door was Robbie diSantos. Robbie – TJ didn’t even know what his full name was – had just started at TJ’s high school at the beginning of their senior year a couple of weeks ago, and TJ had been instantly smitten. TJ didn’t exactly have an expansive vocabulary, but even if he did, the first word he would use to describe Robbie was cool. Robbie just made everything look so effortless. The clothes he wore were cooler than anything TJ owned, but not in a pretentious way. His hair fell perfectly, but it didn’t even look like he used any product. He was the kind of person who seemed like he didn’t care about any of the everyday drama of high school, and he was all the more impressive for it. Robbie was carrying a book and a glass of something. He settled himself into a pool chair and slipped in his earbuds, apparently not even noticing the Masters. “TJ! Grab that band saw!” TJ blinked and stumbled into motion, ashamed of his juvenile, doe-eyed daze. He doubled back to pick up the band saw and ducked into the pool house, forcing himself to avoid the windows, so as not to keep peeking out toward the pool chairs. So now, TJ had spent the past 3 hours measuring, sanding, and cutting lumber. He’d been working long enough that his dad now trusted him with entire projects, rather than giving one instruction at a time. In this case. He was adding a wall the pool house to partition off a small closet, which he would then fill with shelves. It was simple work, but required precision, and TJ knew that Tony expected the closet to be finished by the end of the day. Focusing on the work helped TJ keep his mind off Robbie for the most part. But every so often, when he turned the saw off or moved newly cut two-by-fours from the table, he’d find himself glancing out the window, semi-consciously hoping to catch a glimpse of his classmate. As noon approached, Tony signaled to TJ that it was time for a break. TJ finished his current task, took of his noise-cancelling headphones, and grabbed a sandwich and bottle of water from the cooler. “Grable’s called, and our stone shipment came in earlier than expected,” Tony said without preamble, between bites of sandwich. “I’m gonna head over there and pick out what we need for the walkway and patio.” “Yes, sir,” TJ replied, already knowing what the next orders would be. “By the time I get to Grable’s, look over the product, load it, I won’t have time to get back here and do anything -” The quarry was an hour and a half away “- so Roy’s on his way to get me. I’ll take the trailer to Grable’s and leave the truck here with you. You finish the closet, clean up, and meet me back at home.” “Yes, sir.” TJ nodded. On one hand, he was oddly honored that his dad trusted him enough to leave him alone at a job site on the first day. On the other hand, did his dad have to abandon him at this particular job? Not that TJ would ever argue with his dad at work. They were there to be efficient and professional, not to engage in family spats. So TJ simply finished his lunch, brushed off his jeans, and went back to work. Tony passed over the keys to the truck before he left, but otherwise, didn’t offer any further instructions. TJ kept working, keeping his headphones on to protect from the noise of the saw. The work and the blazing sun outside warmed the unfinished pool house. Barely even thinking, TJ grabbed another water bottle from the cooler and downed it in between cuts. He’d been working for about another hour – the frame of the wall was in place, now he just had to hang the drywall and shelves – when he felt the first signals of fullness from his bladder. It was just enough to make him aware, but not enough to make him worry. The drywall and the shelves wouldn’t take long. He t grabbed the drywall sheets propped against the wall, then nearly dropped them when he turned back to the table. “Hey.” Robbie stood in the doorway, holding a bottle of Powerade. He looked completely unperturbed, as usual, and TJ scrambled to match Robbie’s level of aloofness. He set down the drywall and pulled down his headphones. “Hey,” he replied, praying his voice wasn’t shaking as much as it felt like it was, “what can I do for you?” The corner of Robbie’s mouth quirked up. “Besides the literal work that you’re already doing?” he teased. “Nah, man, I just know how hot it is out here, so I thought I’d bring you some electrolytes.” “Oh!” Instead of gratitude, TJ only felt stupid for not realizing that the drink was meant for him. “Thanks. Thanks, man. That was really nice.” Robbie grinned, keeping eye contact long enough to make TJ’s stomach flutter as he handed over the chilled bottle. “Just shout if you want more. It’s nasty out today.” Compelled by both a desire to show gratitude and a genuine need for more hydration, TJ had already unscrewed the cap and was taking a gulp. He swallowed quickly and attempted a smile, knowing full well he’d never take Robbie up on his offer. TJ downed the entire Powerade before he even knew it. The near-icy drink felt amazing on the hot day, and drinking it so quickly prevented TJ from relishing the fact that Robbie had technically given him a gift. Mostly. The sugar from the drink provided a nice burst of energy while TJ hung the drywall. It was simple work, but time-consuming, as TJ carefully made sure that all the corners aligned perfectly. Safety first, his dad always said, emphasizing quality construction, but aesthetics are a close second. Reaching up to secure the top of the wall, TJ felt an urge from his bladder. He grunted involuntarily and pressed his thighs together. Stupid! he mentally chastised himself. He knew the rules – you don’t leave before the work is done, no matter what. Drinking the extra water bottle and the Powerade had been a terrible decision. TJ grimaced as he stood in front of the closet, quickly assessing how much work he had left to do. The drywall was finished, so he just had to cut and hang the shelves inside. He had all the specs, and since all the shelves were identical, he wouldn’t have to worry about setting up different measurements. “Hey!” The greeting from the window (well, the hole in the wall where the new window would soon be installed) was overly loud, considering TJ didn’t actually have his headphones on at the second. He jumped, then awkwardly tried to disguise the movement by turning to find Robbie smiling at him. “How’s it going?” Robbie asked casually. He looked around at the alterations to the room. “It looks good!” TJ smiled shyly, but only for a second. Sensations from his bladder nagged him, and he hoped his face wasn’t too noticeably red. Well, beyond the existing redness from the heat and the work. “Thanks,” he murmured. “I should be done in about an hour, so you won’t have to deal with the noise too much longer.” “Take your time.” Robbie winked, and this time, TJ was sure his blush was visible. Robbie had walked away, but TJ’s face heated up even more as dozens of thoughts careened around his head – Robbie was flirting with him, he must look like a mess, he had to pee, but he couldn’t until he finished the job… Clenching his jaw, TJ returned to the work table. His nerves were firing overtime, which was not helping his current situation. Just finish the job. Snatching the pressboard with far more force than necessary, TJ mentally scolded himself. He couldn’t let his own poor choices impact the quality of his work – his dad’s work. TJ took a deep breath and clenched his abdominal muscles. Not trusting himself with the band saw just yet, he decided to hang the brackets in the closet. That way, as soon as he had the shelves cut, he could place them, clean up, and leave. Measuring, even though he knew exactly where the studs are, TJ braced himself before each precise shot of the nail gun. The power of the tool still jarred his entire body, but he managed to hang all the brackets without losing control. Allowing himself a brief smile, TJ returned to the saw. All he had to do was cut the pressboard and place the shelves, and he was done! (And clean up, but he wasn’t planning on that taking that long) TJ grabbed the first board, measured, marked, then measured again. He continued the process until the shape of all 4 shelves was precisely delineated. He took a deep breath, positioned his safety goggles, and turned on the band saw. And immediately turned it off again. TJ let out a low groan and bent forward. The vibrations from the saw had caught him off guard, and he’d lost a quick, hot leak. He had to stop and cross his legs to help control the pressure, and he reflexively glanced toward the window to make sure Robbie wasn’t watching. He wasn’t, not that it made TJ feel much better. The immediacy of the desperation passed after a few moments, but TJ felt his heart beating in his throat. He stared plaintively at the saw, as if begging it to go easy on him. Taking a deep breath, TJ straightened up slowly. He squeezed his thighs tightly together, then grabbed the first piece of pressboard and turned on the saw. TJ clenched his jaw so tightly, he thought he might crack a tooth. He could practically feel the liquid vibrating in his overfilled bladder, but he kept his focus trained on the saw, never wavering in the straight lines he was cutting. Unconsciously holding his breath, TJ finished the last cut, ending up with 4 perfectly identical shelves. He gratefully turned off the saw, but the sudden cease in vibrations shocked him into leaking again. The teen whined softly and shoved his hand between his legs. He couldn’t even think about the actual process of getting to a bathroom; he just had to finish this job without making a mess. And without Robbie seeing. TJ pressed tightly through his jeans, his breath hitching. He really shouldn’t have drunk that Powerade. The thought of the Powerade made TJ look sharply over at the window. Thankfully, Robbie was still nowhere in sight. TJ knew he didn’t have much time, so he gave his crotch another squeeze, then stood up and grabbed the stacked boards. He slid the top shelf in, careful not the scratch the wall. The second and third shelves were placed easily enough, but TJ was tall enough that the last shelf required him to bend down. He did. But then he couldn’t get back up. Even the slight bend necessary to help his long arms reach the bottom brackets put too much pressure on TJ’s bladder, and he felt another forceful leak soak into his underwear. He shakily placed the last shelf, then shoved both of his hands between his legs, clenching as tightly as he could. His jeans were awkwardly bunched in his hands, and he didn’t have as comforting of a grip as he wanted, but he couldn’t let go. Tears sprung in TJ’s eyes. He tried to force himself to think of the work he still had to do, but any task-related thoughts were immediately crowded out by the simple biological fact that he couldn’t do anything else right now. He just had to pee. His only remaining clear thought was that he couldn’t have an accident in the pool house. Half-blind with desperation and tears, TJ stumbled out the side door, hands between his legs, and around the side of the building. He barely made it around the corner before he totally lost control. TJ whimpered as he started to actually wet himself, urine pouring over his hands and down both his thighs. His jeans darkened rapidly, and he could hear the splattering of his accident on the dirt below. TJ fought to catch his breath. The relief was spectacular, but not nearly as overwhelming as the shame. He couldn’t…he didn’t… Pressing his lips together, TJ tried to force himself to stay quiet. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, but his current cycle of humiliation and self-contempt was forcing sobs against the back of his throat. Seconds or minutes or hours later, he was finally empty. Shaking, TJ stood up straight and wiped his hands against the remaining dry material on the back of his jeans. He sniffled and dragged the back of his hand under his nose, but made no move to return inside. Chest heaving, TJ tried to string together a plan. He still had to clean up inside, but if he did that quickly, then drove right home, he could still make it before his dad got there, and- “Hey!” TJ’s heart stopped. No no no… “I wanted to see if y-“ TJ was facing away, so he didn’t yet see Robbie’s face, but it was pretty obvious what had happened. The sobs he’d been holding back seemed to intensify, ripping at his voice box. “Hey,” Robbie repeated, his voice impossibly gentle, “Are you…can I…” TJ desperately wanted to respond, to somehow assure Robbie that it was fine and that he’d just finish cleaning and be on his way, but he couldn’t open his mouth without crying. Instead, he tried to breathe deeply, calming himself enough to do literally anything other than just stand there silently in piss-soaked jeans. Still out of TJ’s line of vision, Robbie inhaled audibly. “I’ll leave if you want me to, man, but can you just tell me if you need help? Like, do you need me to get anyone? Call anyone?” Grateful for the yes-or-no question, TJ shook his head. Robbie’s gentle, non-judgmental offer was calming, and TJ was able to breathe more easily. After another few silent seconds, he was able to speak. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice low and scratchy. “The closet is finished, so I’ll just clean up inside, and then we’ll be back tomorrow to-“ “Are you kidding me?!” Robbie sounded so affronted that TJ finally looked up. Sure enough, Robbie looked utterly baffled by what TJ though was a pretty simple statement. “You…” Robbie was all but sputtering, and TJ couldn’t figure out what had him so worked up. “You don’t have to do anything else! Just…why would you think you have to keep working??” TJ frowned slightly. “I haven’t cleaned up yet. I haven’t finished. I have to finish the job for today.” Robbie glanced down at TJ’s dark, sopping jeans, and TJ felt his entire face heat up. “TJ, it’s…it’s fine, man,” Robbie insisted. “You’re coming back tomorrow, just leave it.” TJ shook his head and looked down again. “My dad…” He stopped, not wanting to make it sound like his dad was overly demanding. He wasn’t, it was just… “I have a job to do.” TJ glanced back up to see some of the indignity melt off of Robbie’s face. “You do you, man,” Robbie said, sounding a bit sad. “I know you and your dad do great work, and I don’t want to make it seem like I’m telling you how to do your job. But seriously –“ Robbie stared at TJ earnestly, and TJ had to look away, still intensely aware that he was standing in a puddle of his own urine. “- the bathroom is just off to the right through the back sliding door. I’m sorry no one told you where it was before.” TJ was already shaking his head before Robbie finished, leaving the other teen bewildered. “Oh, no,” TJ murmured. “We don’t use client bathrooms. We don’t enter any space unless we’re working in it.” He said this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, like he was explaining the First Amendment to someone who had never heard of the United States. Robbie’s eyes darkened, and TJ nearly recoiled from this unexpected show of emotion. Robbie was so chill, so relaxed – what had TJ done wrong? “What kind of classist, regressive, The Help bullshit is that?” Robbie spat. “Did you…did someone tell you that? Like, is it literally a rule around here?” “We…” Now TJ really felt awful. He’d wet his pants like a child, he still hadn’t finished his tasks for today, and now, he’d somehow made the coolest, most attractive boy in the whole school mad at him. “We just…my dad always said that we don’t want to track in dirt or dust or anything. We want to respect the clients’ homes. It’s…we don’t want to…” TJ’s face flamed again as he trailed off and stared back at the ground. The rest of the rule was “We don’t want to make any unnecessary mess,” but TJ had clearly broken that statute. Robbie sighed, his feature softening again. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to yell.” TJ glanced up and found Robbie looking at him sincerely. “You and your dad can work however you want,” Robbie swore, “but I…I promise, my family and I, we don’t care about dirt or shit like that. And definitely not over…over your well-being.” TJ averted his eyes, blinking rapidly. “I…” Robbie’s voice was softer than ever. “I just wanted you to know that.” Eyes shining, TJ dared to lift his gaze, but didn’t say anything. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” TJ shook his head and managed a weak smile. “Like I said, I’ll just clean up inside. We’ll be back tomorrow to work on the walkway and patio.” Robbie smiled, gently, encouragingly. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” He inhaled, as if he was going to say something else, but then just ducked his head and turned away. TJ let out a long breath. His mind was already moving ahead to the clean-up job, the drive home, and the long shower he was going to take. But somehow, the horror of the afternoon wasn’t quite as suffocating as it had been ten minutes ago. He whispered, even though Robbie had already walked away. “See you tomorrow.”
  7. PrincessPeeach

    Wet grey.......

    panties, or underwear, or boxers, or boxer briefs....😍...or whatever really if it’s wet, and grey, post it here! (spinoff of the other thread about wet grey panties...thought it would be cool to have a thread where everyone can share a pic, of all different wet grey wear😁) I’ll start us off, wet grey leggings
  8. Hi everyone, I decided to try myself in creating an interactive story, so here I am. I think it's important to tell that English is not my first language, so feel free to draw my attention to my errors. So first of all I would like to present the situation: I would like to write this story with two main characters (a male and a female) and I would like to ask you guys to decide what should they do. I would like to involve both male and female desperation. I would like to write this in a modern (university) setting, but you will be able to choose the characters. :) Female Characters: Name: Diana Age: 19 Appearance: short girl with long curly brown hair, glasses Personality: shy but kind Hobbies: reading, studying (and she really wants to find Prince Charming) Work/school: she is studying literature at the university Name: Natalye Age: 22 Appearance: tall, sporty, short black hair Personality: outgoing and honest Hobbies: running, yoga, walking with her dog Work/school: she works at the university as a secretary Name: Jane Age: 26 Appearance: curvy, average height, long blonde hair Personality: talkative and outgoing Hobbies: learning French, planning her future travels Work/school: she is a phd student at the university, so she has to teach and study at the same time Male Characters: Name: Josh Age: 18 Appearance: tall and thin, short blonde hair Personality: cheerful and curious about everything Hobbies: writing stories (and keeping this as a secret) Work/school: he is studying literature at the university Name: Ben Age: 24 Appearance: muscular, messy black hair, charming smile Personality: everyone thinks that he is a bad boy type but he is an emotional and caring person Hobbies: playing online games, watching series with friends Work/school: he works at a café at the university campus Name: Phil Age: 29 Appearance: medium height and weight, long brown hair, glasses Personality: he was a loser when he was a student and now as a teacher he tries to be cool (he doesn't always succeeds...) Hobbies: hobbies? oh, no, he doesn't have time after preparing for his lessons (but he likes theatre and Shakespeare plays) Work/school: he just got a job at the university as a teacher So please choose a male and a female character from the list, and after that we can start the story. Thank you! :)
  9. A story I wrote years ago about a fictional school bully, Aran, aged 18 and in his final year at British high school, who is put into a very desperate predicament as an act of revenge. The person teasing Aran is anonymous and although originally written to be male (because of the ending), with a small re-write could just as easily be female as well. Hope you enjoy! Aran awoke with a groan. His vision was swirling, blood rushed in his ears, and his head pounded. Where am I? How did I get here? He wondered, and as the room came into focus, he found that he was exactly where he expected to be - in a practice room in his school’s music block. But when he tried to move his hands, he found that he couldn’t. They were tied behind his back. In fact, he couldn’t move, full stop. He looked down, his vision clearing, and saw ropes, tight around his body, pinning him to a chair. What the hell? Aran thought, and tried to remember how he’d got here. He remembered he’d been given a message from his music teacher, telling him he was behind on coursework and needed to stay after school on Wednesday to finish it off. He had done so, and remembered walking down the corridor, then a sound, arms wrapped tightly around him. Then somehow he'd ended up here, tied to a chair, helpless. But who? Why? So many questions floated around his head, and he was snapped to attention by a sudden throb from his bladder. He was achingly desperate for a piss. He hadn’t used the school toilets all day, which was usual for him. Almost every day he found himself sitting through the bus ride home with clenched teeth, fidgeting his legs and grasping himself when he thought it was safe to do so, before arriving home, unlocking the door and running up the stairs to the bathroom, where a very relieving piss awaited him. He’d never make a show of it, or admit to needing to go, and sit in afternoon lessons, jiggled his knees, crossing his ankles, and occasionally biting his lip. But he’d never had to go as badly as he did now, and he wondered how long he’d been tied up. He tried to move his legs around, but he soon found that he was helpless, and no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t do anything to help him hold in the torrent of piss in his bursting bladder, squashed by his uncomfortable school uniform and the rope across his stomach. He looked up at the ceiling in anguish, and tugged as hard as he dared without squashing his bladder any more, but it was no use. Not only was he fastened securely to the chair, his hands, arms, legs and ankles were all tightly bound. He couldn’t even squirm around to ease his discomfort. It had been a swelteringly hot day, and not only had he drunk the two large bottles of water in his school bag, he’d refilled them at the drinking fountains and finished both of them off a second time. The room he was in was warm, making him sweat slightly. He stopped struggling, realising that there was no way he could escape. His bladder was sending waves of desperation through him, and he couldn’t remember a time where he’d been so completely bursting to go for a wee. Suddenly, he heard footsteps in the corridor outside. His heart pounded, and he tried to call for help, but his mouth was gagged, and he could only manage a muffled ‘hhmfff! Mmmmff!’. But he didn’t need to, as whoever was outside the room came in, shutting the door quietly behind him. Aran couldn’t see who it was, as he couldn’t look behind him due to the ropes pinning him, and didn’t see whoever it was pull a strip of black material out of their bag… Surely he was free, finally able to do something about the aching, throbbing sensation in his overfull bladder. “Not so fast” I said, as I tied the blindfold around Aran’s eyes. He protested, but I shushed him, moving around to take a look at my handiwork. Aran had been nothing but a pain in the ass to me all these years, and I had seen him mentally crush people, pouncing on their weaknesses. I used to think that he wasn't so bad, but over the years I’ve grown to see him as who he really is. A bully, and a jealous, nasty one at that. I thought I’d teach him a long overdue lesson. I’d tied the ropes perfectly, and watching him struggle against them gave me a sense of satisfaction. He seemed so helpless, sitting there in his school uniform, unable to move, unable to see his tormentor. He was trying to say something, but I didn’t want to hear it. I already knew what he wanted, more than anything else in the world. I knew how badly he must need to pee, of course, as I had sat near him earlier during the final lesson of the day, and watched him squirm around, frantically trying to hold on until the bell rang. He’d jiggle his knees frantically, fan them in and out, cross his ankles under his chair, even bring his legs up onto the chair to help relieve some of the discomfort he was feeling. He’d even given a slight moan at one point, leaning forward with his hands under the table, before glancing around to make sure nobody had noticed. But I had. The look on his face when the teacher asked him to stay behind after the bell was priceless, and it gave me extra time to get ready, and get him into the predicament in which he now found himself. I knelt down, and loosened the rope around his middle every so slightly. I grinned, and reached my hand up inside his shirt, resting gently on his poor, bursting bladder. I was surprised at how far his bladder was protruding, and it was as hard as a rock. He must have had more than a litre of pee sloshing around inside of him. I pressed down gently, just below his abdomen, where the bladder is most sensitive. He squirmed, pulling away from my fingers, teasing him into submission. I found that he was very ticklish, and ran my fingers against his skin, forcing myself not to laugh as I watched him frantically trying to get free. I ceased my teasing, for the time being, and noticed that he was trying to talk through the gag. I bent down, and whispered in his ear, my voice soft. “Aw, do you need to go for a wee wee? Does the little boy need to piss? Psssssssssspsssspssss” I made a noise like water leaking from a pipe, and I heard him groan through his gag. Glancing at his grey school trousers, I couldn’t see a single wet spot or patch of damp. I admired his bladder control, but I would soon push him to bursting point, where he would have no choice but to leak at least a few drops. I knelt down in front of him, my fingers teasing down his thighs. He was tensing them, and I tickled him quickly on the inside of them, smiling to myself as I watched him squirm with every movement of my fingers. I had complete control over him, he was at my mercy. I wondered if he was ticklish on his feet, so I undid his shoelaces and pulled his shoes off slowly, revealing his feet in grey stripy socks. I took hold of one of his feet, and I could feel him tense up. Noticing the way he was desperately trying to pull away from my hands, I pulled a fingernail gently along the bottom of his foot. He snorted loudly through the gag, straining at the bonds holding his body to the chair, but it was no use. I started tickling like crazy, digging my nails in and moving up and down the soles of his feet. The more I tickled, the more he struggled, and the more his bladder was pulled tight by the rope around his middle. I reached out and tickled both of his feet at the same time, watching him yank at his bonds and laughing through his gag, his head going from side to side in pure torment, unable to wriggle away and completely at the mercy of my fingers. I carried on tickling and teasing him for several minutes, keeping an eye on his trousers half expecting a wet spot, but he held firm. After I felt like he'd finally had enough, I slowed down and eventually let go of his feet, moving around to the back of his chair. He was trying to mumble something through the gag, but I had no time for his smart comments. I reached down and pressed onto his bladder again, causing him to moan as I felt the rock hard, firm bulge. I was quite impressed that he was still holding and hadn't leaked a single drop, he must have been incredibly desperate to go. I stood up and took a pair of scissors out of my bag, snipping through two of the ropes binding him to the chair. “Up.” I said, sternly. He didn’t move. “I said, stand up.” I repeated in a calm voice, and yanked him upwards, pulling the chair away. As soon as he was stood up, Aran bent over slightly, bobbing up and down on the spot and mumbling something through his gag that sounded a lot like "gonna piss myself". I wondered if he had actually started to wet himself, but somehow, miraculously, he was managing to hold on. He really must have exceptional bladder control, but I knew that he must be close to his limit. “Still dry?” I asked quietly, giving his bladder a gentle prod (it was visibly bulging against the waistband of his tight fitting school trousers, and I almost felt sorry for him as he gave yet another urgent moan through his gag). “Don’t worry, I’ll let you piss soon.” I accentuated the ‘s’ sound, drawing it on longer that usual. “Would you like that? A nice, long, relieving piss, letting all that piss in that swollen bladder of yours gush out like a firehose?”. At this, he grunted what sounded a bit like "yes please" through his gag and nodded, and started to jig a little on the spot, pushing his thighs together and tapping his feet ever so slightly. However, because the rope binding his ankles was attached to the one around his midriff, every movement he made pulled the rope tighter across his bladder. He tried to cross his legs but this too merely squished his bladder more and more. Giving up, he settled on leaning forwards, bobbing quickly ever so slightly at the knees. I could tell he was close to completely letting go and soaking his trousers. He was trying to squeeze his thighs together, and I suppose with his hands tied behind his back, this was the closest he could get to holding himself. “Well, I’m bored, I think you’ve had enough”. I said, “I’ll let you piss now”. Aran didn’t change his movements, but he heard well enough. I could almost feel the sense of relief mixed with that contrasting, intense urgency which he was fighting to control. There was a large plastic mop bucket in the corner of the room, which I'd taken from a cleaning cupboard earlier. I picked up the bucket and carefully placed it on the floor directly in front of him, and I stood on the other side of it, so that I was facing him with the bucket in between us. “Yeah, I’ll let you piss… but do you mind if I go first? I haven't had chance to go all day." I unzipped my fly, pulled out my dick and let loose a strong stream of urine directly into the bucket, sighing loudly with relief. The sound of my piss splashing noisily and forcefully against the bottom of the plastic bucket filled the small room, and I knew that hearing it would push Aran to the brink of soaking his trousers. It felt good, really good, as I hadn't relieved myself since first waking up that morning and had been bursting to go throughout most of the afternoon. It felt even better knowing that Aran could hear every drop, every splash, every moan and sigh, desperately wanting to relieve himself too but having no choice but to wait for his turn. My pee continued to pour out of me with force, and I couldn't believe that Aran was still holding on, bobbing slightly and continuing to press his thighs together, moaning something like "oh please hurry up" through his gag. He must have been right on the edge. But just then, right as my stream was starting to gradually die down, my pee trickling teasingly into the bucket in front of him, Aran moaned quietly through the gag and bent forwards. I heard a loud hiss as he finally began to release his bladder after holding on for so many hours, an impressively strong stream of urine bursting out of his dick and utterly soaking the crotch of his grey school trousers before steadily pouring down his legs like a waterfall. He was frozen in place, still bent forwards slightly, moaning softly with relief as he continued to empty himself, pissing steadily as warm pee streamed down his trousers, completely drenching them and trickling down to his feet, soaking his socks and forming a huge dark patch on the carpet. He carried on peeing steadily for at least 2 minutes, after which point his trousers and socks were so wet that it looked like he'd just waded through a lake, and the carpet underneath him was soaking in his pee. I was slightly impressed by how much long he was peeing for, and he must have been holding so much inside him. "Oh Aran, could you not wait for me to finish? I was almost done, and you could have used the bucket instead of pissing yourself" I teased, and he shook his head. He was quiet now, red faced and humiliated, but clearly feeling intense relief after his massive piss. "Do you feel better now that you've... er, relieved yourself?" I asked, a hint of sympathy in my voice. He paused for a second, then nodded, blushing. He had clearly learnt his lesson. I took the scissors and quietly snipped a single rope, which left him able to slowly untie himself. "You can untie yourself now, if you're quick you might be able to escape before a teacher comes to check the rooms" I said quietly, and he nodded. I picked up my bag and left the room, closing the door quietly behind me, leaving him to it. Just before I left the building, I picked up a 'Caution: Wet Floor' sign from the cleaning cupboard down the corridor and placed it outside the door. I smiled, wondering if Aran would see the funny side.
  10. A story I wrote a few years ago that I recently found on my hard drive, hope you enjoy! It involves two 18 year old final year British secondary school students, Alex and Amy, who are part of the school council (a group of students who are elected to represent the views of all pupils and to improve their school), and find themselves in a rather desperate predicament during a council meeting, along with their teacher. “Alex, are you coming or not?” Alex looked around to see his friend Amy calling him over. She was, of course, talking about the school council meeting, the last one of the term, scheduled to last until at least 5.00pm that evening. He sighed inwardly, he’d been on his way to the toilets just the other side of the hall, but he was too shy to admit to Amy that he was badly needing a pee. He could probably hold it until the meeting finished, he reasoned as he followed her up to the classroom, it’s not that bad. But it was. It had been a warm day, and he’d had a couple of cans of coke as well as downing a large water bottle. It was just after 3.30pm and he had not been to the toilet since he woke up early that morning. All that liquid had made an impact on his bladder, which was uncomfortably full, and although he hated using the school toilets and would rather wait until he got home, he’d urgently set off towards them as soon as the bell rang at the end of the school day. That’s when Amy, a friend he’d known since Primary School, had called him over, and he’d reluctantly joined her, trying to forget his discomfort. Little did he know, Amy was far from comfortable herself. Unlike Alex, she would usually use the school toilets at lunchtime, but today she had not had time to go on account of an urgent meet-up of the yearbook committee, which she was dragged along to by a friend before she could protest. Now, as she climbed the stairs next to Alex, she felt her bladder throb slightly with every step she took, but it was too late to go back and pee now, and besides, she didn’t want to annoy Alex, who seemed troubled by something. She’d just have to bite her lip and wait it out. As they entered the classroom, they were both surprised by how hot it was. “Sorry folks” said Miss Stelfox, the attractive young teacher chairing the meeting, “the windows in here don’t open, but there’s nothing I can do I’m afraid. It is warm, I know, but there’s plenty of water to go around”, and she placed the last few water jugs on the tables. She was dressed in her usual outfit of tight fitting shirt, skirt, black tights and high heels, and Alex admired the curves on her perfectly shaped body. They found a couple of empty seats to the side, and sat down next to one another, noticing how few people had turned up, and after a few minutes of chit-chat the meeting started. Alex had some points he wanted to raise, and he temporarily forgot about his need to relieve himself as he concentrated on perfecting the arguments he would put forward. It was 45 minutes into the meeting, and as Alex drained his glass for the second time, he felt a twinge of discomfort in his bladder, the feeling of fullness much more pronounced than before. He crossed his ankles under the table, and sighed quietly as he saw how long he still had to wait. Miss Stelfox was pressing them eagerly for new ideas or solutions to the proposals they had put forward, quite the slave driver, and Alex was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on the task in hand. He looked around, and noticed that Amy had her legs crossed quite tightly, and was jiggling her foot around. She must have sensed his eyes on her, because she looked at him, smiling sheepishly. “I really need the loo”, she whispered, and Alex noticed the anxious look on her face. He just smiled sympathetically, as he was too nervous to tell anyone about his own need, which was growing by the minute. He bit his bottom lip, crossed his ankles the opposite way, and jiggled his knees. It was no good, he was really bursting now, and would have to find some way of easing the pressure on his bladder. Despite his need, Alex was thirsty again, and took hold of the jug, trying not to wince as the water trickled into his glass. He briefly considered asking if he could quickly go to the toilet and come back, but he was embarrassed just thinking about it. No, he could hold it. 15 minutes of the meeting left to go, and now he wasn’t so sure. All he could think about was the relentless, throbbing ache in his bladder. By now, he had lost all track of the meeting, and kept glancing up at the clock every few seconds, appalled at how slowly time seemed to be ticking by. He looked across at Amy, and noticed the way she was leaning forward slightly, onto the table. As he watched, she crossed her legs the other way, then back again, frantically bobbing her knees and tapping her feet on the floor. She looked up at him, and Alex saw that she had placed her hand between her tightly crossed thighs, squeezing it between them, so high up that she was almost reaching up underneath her short school uniform skirt. She had been drinking several glasses water throughout the meeting and was clearly just as desperate as he was, if not more so, and he felt a strong sympathy towards her plight. Amy whispered ‘I’m so desperate for a wee… I don't know if can hold it, aah oh noooo!’ She gave a little squeak, so quiet that only Alex heard it, and thrust a hand deep into her crotch, and leaned forward so far that her head was almost touching the hard wooden surface of the table. Alex looked up and noticed Miss Stelfox giving him a questioning look, and he lied ”Pen, she’s er, dropped it under the table.” The strain in his voice was obvious, but the teacher didn’t seem to notice. The discomfort Alex was feeling was merciless, and it felt like his bladder was the size of a balloon. He reached down, and discreetly as he could, he loosened his belt, squeezing his dick through his grey school trousers for a second, relishing the temporary relief it gave him. Forgetting his embarrassment, he whispered to Amy “There’s ten minutes left. I need to go too, really badly, it’s not long now’. She looked up at him, and nodded, glancing up at the clock and bobbing up and down in her chair. ‘Thanks for that, by the way, what you said to Miss’ she whispered, drawing in a tight breath through her teeth.. Alex could only nod, his mind focused on holding on for the final few minutes. All this went unnoticed by Miss Stelfox, of course, as she was also totally desperate to pee. Like Alex, she had meant to use the toilet before the meeting, but she had got caught up in conversation with the head of department. She had been drinking plenty of water all day to stay hydrated in the hot weather, and had drunk a cup of tea at break, and two cups at lunch. She would normally have used the lady’s toilets at any chance she got, but as she was covering lessons for a couple of teachers who were away on maternity leave, and had been in a rush all day, she hadn’t emptied her bladder since 7.00am that morning. Having a teacher’s iron bladder helped, and she was used to holding her pee for prolonged periods of time. But now, incredibly desperate, and was struggling not to break out in a full blown pee-pee dance. Whenever she got a chance to sit down, she would pretend to smooth down her skirt, secretly pressing a hand against her crotch, crossing her legs tightly. Just as she was addressing the remaining couple of points, she had to stand up and write something on the board. As she rose from the chair, she felt a small jet of pee leak out into her panties. She gasped, and bent forward, hands pushed into her vagina. She heard muttering and giggles behind her, and, blushing furiously, she turned to face the room. Crossing her legs tightly, she leant forward, one hand resting against the desk and one on the front of her skirt. There wasn’t a wet patch, but there would be one soon if she didn’t release the ocean of urine inside her tortured bladder in the next few minutes. ‘Guys, we’re gonna have to finish. I’m sorry, I need a wee, I haven’t had a chance to go all day, we’ll pick this up next meeting, sorry but I have to go right this minute. God, I need a wee, I need a wee, I need a wee’. She muttered this to herself as she packed up her laptop, stepping from foot to foot in a frantic effort to halt the flow of urine aching to escape. Alex and Amy both jolted up, immediately making for the door. There was a scrum of people, all trying to get out at the same time, and they had to wait a few more agonising moments. Now that they had stood up, they began to feel the effect of gravity on their heavy, sloshing bladders, and the pain rose to an almost unbearable level. Amy crossed her legs, and gave a moan of frustration, bending forwards with her arms crossed over her bladder. ‘Hurry up, come on, come on’ she moaned quietly, but Alex, conscious of Miss Stelfox only a few paces away, could only give himself a quick grab when he thought nobody was looking, and stood with one foot out in front of him. Seeing that the crowd had now dispersed, he beckoned for Amy to follow him, and with gritted teeth, he headed out of the door. They walked quickly (or as quickly as they could in their current desperate state) down the stairs, into the small lobby where a number of corridors in the main school block met. The other attendees had all gone straight out, and it was very quiet, as the cleaners had already been and gone. He was about to open the door leading to the corridor which housed the boy’s toilets, when he saw a sign taped to the wall: Notice: If you are using these corridors in the evening, please remove your shoes before entry. Footwear may leave marks on the floor surface as the new varnish has just dried – Maintenance Staff. Sighing with annoyance at the delay, he bent down to untie his school shoes, and Amy, reading the sign, gave a little squeak of frustration, but did the same. It had been a very warm day and Alex's black socks were a little damp with sweat, and as he struggled to take off his shoes his bladder pulsed agonisingly. He had no choice but to stop for a moment to hold himself, hoping that Amy hadn't noticed. Eventually managing to kick his shoes off, he let go of himself and opened the door to the corridor, turning to Amy as he did so. “Meet you back here” he stammered, and, letting the door close behind him, he hurried down the corridor in his socks. Now he was on his own, he finally undid his belt, letting it hang loose in front of him. Grappling with his fly, he unzipped his trousers and thrust a hand down his pants. Gripping his dick tightly, he felt a couple of drops leak out as his bladder screamed in protest, expecting a chance to release the torrent of urine forcing its way out. After what seemed like an eternity, Alex reached the door to the Boys toilets. He breathed a sigh of relief, and pushed. It didn’t move. He pushed again, and briefly wondered why it wasn’t opening. His bladder throbbed hard, and the pain in his urethra was excruciating now he was so close to relief. Suddenly, a thought hit him like a physical blow. The cleaners… they’d finished for the night. And part of their job was to… ‘Clean the toilets, oh fuck, no, arrrrgh’ he groaned in frustration. They’d locked the toilets up for the night, and Alex swore out loud in annoyance, stamping his foot before bringing it up quickly behind him, then doing the same with the opposite one. Relief had seemed so close, and now he was helpless, unable to move for fear of wetting himself. He stood there for a minute or so, bending almost double, one hand on the toilet door, the other gripped tightly around his leaking dick, legs crossed under him. Grunting with the effort, he twisted himself around, leaning back against the locked toilet door, the only thing preventing him from finally satisfying his urgent need to urinate, pressing his thighs together. He slid down until he was in a crouch, and sat there, breathing heavily, shuddering as he desperately waited for the wave of pressure to subside. But it didn’t. Shaking and gasping in pain, he felt his bladder give one last pulse, harder and more urgent than before. He could feel the drops leaking from the tip of his cock turn into a trickle, and he barely had time to stand up and whip out his leaking dick before a mighty stream erupted from him. He aimed directly at the toilet door, and his golden urine arched in the air before hitting the door with a heavy splash, gushing down it and gathering on the newly varnished floor in a rapidly growing puddle of warm piss. The feeling was incredible, the never-ending gushing flow forcing its way down his urethra and out into the open, drenching the corridor. Alex didn’t notice any of this, however, as he had his eyes closed, in a world of bliss. Meanwhile, Amy was having problems of her own. Hampered by her overfull bladder, she had kicked off her shoes and hurried slightly bent-over along the quiet corridor, taking small steps while trying to keep her thighs pushed together, her navy blue knee-high school socks sliding over the slippery floor as she walked. The girls' toilets were right at the other end of the corridor and several times on the way she had to stop to reach underneath her skirt and give herself a hard squeeze through her knickers with both hands, bending over while crossing her thighs tightly over her hands, but eventually she made it to the toilet door. She held herself one final time; it would be all over in just a few seconds, and pushed into the door with her body. She bounced back away from it, and in her surprise, another spurt of piss had soaked into her underwear. ‘Oh for God’s sake please, not now, please not now, oh!’ she muttered under her breath, desperately clamping off the flow. It was locked, and Amy briefly considered rushing off to try the other girls' loos situated in the same building, but the thought of running made her tremble as she imagined her bladder bouncing around inside of her. She was bent double, both hands forced down between her legs, dancing frantically from foot to foot. 'Ooh I'm gonna wee myself, what do I do, what I do?' she whined. Suddenly, she gave a gasp of alarm, feeling more warm pee trickling out, soaking her fingers and soaking her underwear even more. She couldn’t believe she was even thinking about what she was planning on doing next, but there really was no other option. She was right on the brink of completely wetting herself right outside of the locked toilet door, with absolutely nowhere to wee. She glanced quickly up and down the corridor as another spurt of wee trickled out of her, longer this time, and began to dribble slowly down her thighs. She gave a loud sigh, and in one swift movement she squatted down and relaxed. She felt a pleasant, warm sensation as her knickers quickly dampened then a quiet hissing sound as her pee trickled through her underwear and slowly puddled onto the shiny floor beneath. She moaned out loud with relief as her piss flowed out of her, absolutely drenching her underwear and trickling steadily into the ever-expanding puddle around her feet. She thought about stopping the flow, after all, surely she had released enough pressure, surely she could wait now until she got home. But she couldn't stop it. She wouldn't have stopped it for the world. She closed her eyes and smiled and she continued to noisily relieve her bladder, the sound of her sighs, moans and the steady trickling and hissing of piss filling the quiet corridor, not even caring that the puddle had reached her feet and the bottom of her socks were quickly becoming drenched in her wee. As the slow waterfall of urine escaping from her resided slowly into a trickle, a massive puddle of warm pee surrounding her and covering a fairly large section of the corridor outside the girls' toilets, she couldn’t help but give a shiver of pleasure and moan softly again, muttering 'Ooh that's so much better'. She looked around again, smiling contentedly, and stood up before walking slowly back down the corridor, stepping through her puddle carefully and leaving a trail of wet footprints on the varnished floor behind her. The soles of her socks were drenched with pee and her knickers were soaking wet, clinging to her uncomfortably, and she was slightly sweaty and red faced, but that didn't matter to her at all. After hours and hours of desperately holding on, she had finally relieved her bladder, and it felt amazing. Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the building, Miss Stelfox hurried down the stairs as fast as her heels would allow her to, her footsteps echoing loudly, making a beeline for the women's staff toilets. As soon as the few remaining students had left the classroom she’d thrust a hand in between her legs, pushing against her vagina, feeling the dampness of her underwear, and grabbing her bag, she’d hurried out the room, dancing frantically from foot to foot, struggling to lock the door behind her. Presently, she reached the bottom of the stairs and hurried over to the corridor where the staff toilets were located as quickly as she could. She skim-read a sign about removing footwear, the same one Alex and Amy had seen just further down the hall, and sighed as she stepped quickly out of her heels and bobbed down to pick them up. She threw open the door and padded down the corridor in her tights, trying not to slip on the floor, and just as she reached the women's loo she gasped at the sign taped to the door, at the same time involuntarily raising her right foot up behind her and stamping it down. Out of Order – Please Use Toilets in Technology/Geography buildings ‘Oh you’re joking me’ she said out loud, looking around. But there was nobody about, and she tried to push open the door anyway, but to no avail. It was firmly locked and wouldn’t budge, despite her pressing her body against it and pushing it as hard as she could, several times. Her desperation had tripled now she was so close to relief, and she couldn’t help but do a little pee-pee dance, her black tights rasping loudly against her skirt as she tried to subdue her aching bladder. Taking quick shallow breaths, she leant back against the wall, her right leg raised behind her ass, cupping her crotch tightly under her skirt through her tights. She moaned out loud in frustration. What was she going to do? She couldn't remember ever being this desperate to pee, ever having to hold her achingly full bladder for so many hours, ever being this close to letting go and totally soaking herself. She didn't know if she could hold on long enough to walk across the school to the tech block, and even if she did manage to get there without peeing herself, would she be able to get in now that most of the school was locked up for the night? She wasn't even sure that she had the key, as she never usually taught any lessons in that building. She would have to think of something on the way, standing around wouldn’t help. Sweating slightly with the effort, she hurried further along the corridor towards the exit, her feet slipping and sliding over the shiny surface of the floor, before eventually reaching the end of the corridor, where a doorway led into a small foyer, then out onto the school yard. She put down her heels and stepped into them carefully, gave her crotch one last hard squeeze under her skirt, took a deep breath and set out across the concrete, struggling to keep her thighs pressed together as she walked. Her heels clicked erratically on the ground, her legs all over the place, and she had to stop suddenly, feeling a few trickles of wee running down her tights, dribbling down slowly towards her feet. ‘Oh god, oh god, please no, oh god, no, please’ she muttered under her breath, and she bent over, pretending to be searching for something in her bag. Hoping against hope that nobody could see her, she thrust her free hand under her skirt, feeling the dampness of her tights, and glanced around for somewhere discrete where she could finally squat down and relieve her rock hard, throbbing bladder. But there was nowhere nearby, and she had no choice but to bite her lip and straighten up, carrying on slowly towards the tech block taking small steps, in the hope of finally reaching a loo. She had only been walking for a few seconds before she had to stop and cross her legs, feeling herself leaking pee again, just a few more dribbles at first, slowly soaking her underwear and trickling down her tights, before a sudden waterfall of piss exploded from her, quickly soaking through her already wet knickers and steadily pouring down onto the concrete below her, as well as down her legs towards her shoes. She moaned quietly, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, and realising that there was just no way she could hold on any more, she hurriedly uncrossed her legs and kicked her heels off, letting the feeling of relief slowly wash over her as she spectacularly emptied her bladder right there in the middle of the school yard, absolutely soaking her knickers, tights and skirt with warm piss that she had held back for so many hours. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t do anything but stand and sigh quietly with relief as a never-ending torrent of urine escaped her and pooled steadily around her feet, the puddle underneath her spreading out impressively far across the concrete. After a couple of minutes, the last few drops dribbled out of her, and she looked around, blushing harder than she ever had in her life but relishing the feeling of finally being able to relieve herself after an entire day of holding on. There was nobody around, and she felt a little better knowing that her very public accident had not been witnessed by anyone else. She glanced at the huge puddle of pee she was standing in and actually felt a small sense of pride, as she couldn't believe that she had managed to wait for so long or hold such a huge amount inside her bladder. She walked over to where she'd left her heels and picked them up, happy that she had at least avoided peeing all over them. Unfortunately though, her underwear, skirt and tights were absolutely soaked with pee, which were starting to feel quite cold despite the warm evening air, so she hurried to the car park, leaving a little trail of pee footprints behind her. Luckily for her, she made it to her car without being spotted, and was able to discretely take off her sodden tights and put them into a plastic bag in the back of her car. She left her soaking wet skirt and underwear on, and put down some more plastic bags to protect her car seat, driving home barefoot. After she arrived back home, she put her clothes in the wash, and had a long, hot shower. Despite the embarrassment she was still feeling, as she let the hot water run over her body she couldn't help but think back to the moment when she had lost control and pee had finally exploded out of her, and how incredible it had felt to relieve her bladder after being absolutely bursting to go for so many hours. She dried off, and lay in bed, naked, waiting for her fiancé’s imminent return from work. Fortunately for her, Alex and Amy hadn’t noticed Miss Stelfox at all. Still tingling with the pleasure of their relief, they had met back the entrance to the corridors, each assuming that the other had found the toilets open and emptied their bladders in the usual way. They walked home together, not saying a word of what they had just done, but each secretly thinking about it for the rest of the night. Over the weekend, the various puddles around the school slowly dried up, and nobody else found out what had happened. The following week, Amy had asked “When’s the next council meeting, is it the first week back after the holidays?” and Alex couldn’t help but laugh.
  11. I found something on my hard drive that I wrote all the way back in 2008, when I was a final year student at secondary school in the UK. Back then I had only just started trying out desperation and holding, and this is a true account of when I attempted for the first time to hold off from peeing for a full 12 hours, starting from my final pee just before leaving for school at 8.30am. My goal was to hold my bladder all through the school day and into the evening, while drinking my usual amount of liquid to stay hydrated, with a target of holding my piss and denying myself relief until at least 8.30pm. Throughout the hold I was wearing my school uniform of a dark blazer, dark red polo shirt and tight grey trousers, with smart black shoes, black school socks and dark grey boxer shorts. Did I manage to wait for the full 12 hours? Read on to find out! I have kept the original text I wrote at the time, complete with typos and spelling mistakes. 4.30pm – Last went around 8.30am, before school, am trying to wait until 8.30pm. Have consumed bowl of cereal (with milk), a large glass of water before leaving for school, most of a large water bottle during the school day, and since getting home have had a cup of coffee and two glasses of ginger beer. Not too desperate yet, though I definitely really badly need to go, and I've taken off my shoes and am jiggling a bit with my ankles crossed under my chair. Turning on taps makes me bob up and down, pushing my thighs together. 5.00pm – Need worsened slightly, by 8.30 I’m going to need to go pretty damn badly. Ankles still crossed, and I can feel my bladder filling up minute by minute. Gritting my teeth occasionally, haven’t had to hold myself properly yet. The urge comes and goes, almost in waves. 5.35pm – The coffee I had earlier wasn’t a good idea, I really urgently need to go now. Definite pain in my bladder, not too bad, but enough to distract me and stop me concentrating on anything. If I were at school or anywhere other than home, I’d actively seek to find somewhere to relieve myself. Occasionally pushing down on my dick to try and stop the aching in my lower abdomen, and squeezing the end of it seems to help for a few seconds. 6.00pm – Really bursting now, when I stand up I can’t stand still, and sitting down I have to keep shifting position. Constant nagging ache, and nothing I do can take my mind off it. Occasionally holding myself, seems to help, but by 8.30 seems a long way away. 6.30pm – Just consumed 2 more glasses of ginger beer/apple juice to make things a little more interesting. Between 8.00 and 8.30 I will tease myself, listening to running water, standing in front of the toilet but forcing myself not to pee, etc. Ouch just thinking about peeing makes my bladder throb. 7.00pm – Still need to go, but urges have subsided for now. Chances are they’ll come back in a few minutes, 10x worse. When I stand up I can feel the pee pushing itself against my urethra, aching to come out. Bladder is hard to the touch, but it is a different kind of desperation than drinking lots of water. Dammit writing this makes me need to go worse, occasionally have to grab my cock and lean forward. Will probably drink again before 8.00pm. Thinking about peeing forces me to make an effort to hold it in. 7.10pm- Let out a few drops but clamped off the flow, need is worse than ever after my bladder has tasted relief. Boxers feel damp against my cock. 7.35pm – Had to undo my trousers and reach into my boxers to hold myself more tightly… normally it helps to relieve my urge to urinate a bit but this time the urge was still there, just as strong as before. Also consumed two more glasses of juice, just 1 hour left, I’m confident about making it but it will be a challenge. 7.40pm – Huge urge just overcame me, and my bladder definitely contracted. Incredibly desperate now, this is a first for me; I’ve been desperate before but this is different. Those last two drinks hit my bladder hard, but I’m still fairly confident about holding till 8.30pm. 7.45pm – Forcing myself to keep holding when the toilet is just a few paces away is a real struggle. I want to use it so badly. Holding myself but it doesn’t seem to help anymore, fidgeting, can’t sit still. If I were at school I’d be in real trouble. Going to act as naturally as possible for 5 or so minutes, 7.50pm – Couldn’t do it. Hand now permamnently wrapped around cock. Hard to type much. Leaving typos in from now on ooo gotta go. Jiggling knees, increidlby desperate to pee. Last half hour will be hell. 7.55pm – Leaked some more into my boxers and it is taking a conscious effort not to let out any more piss. Time seems to be moving at a crawl. So so desperate to pee. Fuck I think some just leaked out a bit. Going to restart my computer and sit as naturally as possible until I have this loaded up again, as if I was in school. 8.00pm – God it was difficult but I managed to sit still until my computer restarted. Pain is overhwlelming, starting to sweat a little. I’ll try to summarise without pissing all over my chair. It’s been 11 and a half hours since I last peed. I’ve drunk milk (with breakfast cereal), glass of water in the morning (did I mention that before, cba to check aaaa?), nearly all of the water bottle I take to school, cup of coffee, and 4 or 6 glasses of juice can’t remember. Oh god that took so long. I can’t keep a straight face I am sooo desperate. Oh fuck 25 mins to go I can do this. 8.10pm – Fuck it, I couldn’t wait that long. I was squeezing my cock while reading a desperation story, and then the pain was too great, and really wasn’t funny anymore. Waiting another 20 minutes would just be too painful. Was SO relieving when it finally released, must have pissed a long hard stream for nearly a minute. (Edit: by that point I had started leaking uncontrollably and had no choice but to sprint to the toilet before I wet myself completely. I only just made it to the toilet in time, although there was a large damp patch on the front of my boxers). The feeling of relief didn’t actually come though until it was finally all out, but I can feel my bladder filling even now from all the drinks I’ve consumed. Abdomen still feels tense, as if I’ve just done some sit-ups or some similar exercise. 11 hours, 40 minutes in total. 12 hour mark WILL be beaten. Such a different experience than drinking lots of water in a short space of time, whereas that makes me feel quite bloated, this makes me feel such a fierce and intense urge to relieve my bladder for hours and I really wasn’t expecting that. Will definitely do again sometime.
  12. I am not used to write in english or such many words so pls be forgiving fo mistakes😊 Yesterday evening I started drinking 300ml every 20mins so I was well hydrated after a while. So when getting desperate I put on a diaper and continued drinking. Soon I leaked and spurted into my diaper but I kept holding. I started some round league of legends to keep my busy and distract me from my bladder but my "Drink Timer" still reminded me of having a glass full of water every 20mins. When my diaper was nearly full I put on a slim jeans, slipped into my old boots and packed my backpack with some spare clothing, a towel and my camera. I drank my last glass of whater, then let out a spurt of pee for 2 sec (at least i tried to stop but it endet up beeing 3 spurts) and took of my diaper. If I am not wearing diapers I feel like i can hold my pee better and I dont leak so much but when loosing it, it will be a lot less controllable. So I started walking around my district, and I tried to always stay at the most busy streets. (When I am alone the urge always is very strong but beeing at busy places makes my bladder shy, but I wanted to force my bladder to get rid of that behavior). Eventually I had some leaks and my crotch got dumb but it was not visible. I went to some quiet streets and the urge hit my like a train, having a big spurt and now wet thighs. I quickly got to a small park area and sat on a small wall and "inspect the damage". But know beeing not in motion I had a big accident and despite of punching my sphinkter my pee flooded the wall and flew down to the grass. I managed to get back control after a while. My pants where soaked and the urge was gone for now but I my bladder wasn empty and there was a lot of water in my body. It was rather dark at this corner and no one in sight, so I got a near bench, and changed my pants into a dry pair. This time fitting slim jersey pants I sewed a month ago. I headed to a near playground I knew I will be untroubled and on they way the urge came back. But now it was obvious that I couldn't resist for long anymore my pelvic muscels feld numb. But I had dry pants on and you're not allowed to wet your new pants right?! So I tried my best. But allready felt dribbles going into my fresh underwear no matter how hard i clenched my muscels. As I reached the playground I already hat a wet spot and I lost control increasingly more and more (<--is this correct english though?!) Aaaand from know on I was inavitable that I would utterly wet my pants. After another push from my bladder it gushed into my pants and i squatted down from exhaustion. After this I walked across the playground, while letting all out and went swinging, and peed my pants as it came. Eventually I took my Camera and made some pictures, and changed to another clothes and went home
  13. Version 1.0.0

    65 downloads

    Woke up, went down to the living room (still in my pyjamas), started texting and then THIS happened. Oops

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  14. View File [MALE] Pullups wetting and leaking whilst texting in PJs Woke up, went down to the living room (still in my pyjamas), started texting and then THIS happened. Oops Submitter padsndiapers Submitted 08/15/2019 Category Diapers and ageplay  
  15. ssjammerz

    malefemale Cycling wetting 44

    It was a really hot and sunny day, so I drank one large cup of orange juice from Jamba Juice before I went. Unfortunately, I underestimated the amount of sweat I had, which "used up" some of my desperation! But, I still say it was a good soaking in my shorts, considering it was the first time I wore this particular pair. Anyway, enjoy! cyc44.wmv
  16. I was drinking lots of water at work so hot VID_20190806_150143344.mp4 and running around need to pee bad. I was hurting too need to pee bad. It felt good letting it go.
  17. peedespes02

    Male fast Pee

    I had coffee before work a VID_20190806_150143344.mp4 nd then at work I had some water iced tea. All that liquid hard and I had to pee bad. Coffee makes me need to pee so bad and water.
  18. I was holding it a while VID_20190809_133149073.mp4 again at work drinking lots of water at work and I had cold tea. This a view over the toilet of me peeing.
  19. peedespes02

    Male Long Side Pee

    I drank lots of water at work and I had two cups of hot tea before work. I had go pee bad little halfway though my shift at work. This a side view of me peeing at work. I needed to go bad an VID_20190811_144241956.mp4 d was hurting.
  20. Getting the car cleaned up before leaving on a trip when this happened. Started with a small trickle and I just couldn't stop it. I just stood in the driveway beside my car and wet my pants. Total accident, as I'm not one to wet myself during the day when the neighbors are out.
  21. EmesiraGimil

    malefemale Post-holding pics

    This Sunday I did my gaming+holding session, but... Mr. Stupid here forgot to initiate the recording and now I have no footage to show for my third stream. To compensate, even if a little bit, I decided to record myself re-wetting my shorts and take some pictures. I hope you enjoy. 20190811_234027(1).mp4
  22. Mariner62

    Fun On A Sunday

    Having had my daughter home from college for the summer, it had limited my opportunities for wetting my pants. Now that she's been moved back, I can resume wetting activities. I awoke Sunday morning with a very urgent need to pee. I quickly put on my panties and shorts from the day before and headed out to the back patio, grabbing a glass of apple juice on the way. It was basically all I could do to get out the door and sit in a lawn chain without wetting myself. It was just seconds after sitting down, that I began wetting. It felt so good to relieve the pressure in my bladder as I watched the wet patch grow. What I thought was a perfect way to start the day, was soon to get even better. As the sun rose, I drank the juice and poured a second glass. It wasn't long before I started feeling the urge build again. To my surprise, just an hour and a half later, I once again had a full bladder. I saw no need to hold, and with still damp pants, opened the flood gates and re-wet my pants. I was able to sit another half hour in completely soaked pants until having to get ready for the day, as we had plans to attend a ball game. Since it was a two hour drive to and back from the game, I elected not to use the facilities during the game. Planning on again wetting myself upon returning home. The final 15-20 minutes became a little uncomfortable, as it had been over 6 hours, I returned to the back patio, to see how much longer I could hold it. It wasn't as long as I had hoped it would be. I managed to hold for about 10 minutes,, at time grabbing myself to make it last as long as I could. For the third time in one day (and the 2nd pair of shorts), I found myself sitting and enjoying the feeling of very wet pants. And to cap off a very enjoyable day, as I sat here and composed this story, I've again re-wet my pants. Hopefully, I'll have another day like this soon, and be able to include some photos along with story.
  23. ssjammerz

    malefemale Cycling wetting 43

    My wife was lying down on the bench next to me and I wanted to see if I could get away with relieving myself without her knowing...success! cyc43.mp4
  24. Do you ever feel that your need to pee varies in how you ‘feel’ it? Sometimes for example my bladder aches and other times my vagina tingles like crazy, other times it’s like I can feel a pushing between my legs? do you always get the same sensations or does it vary?
  25. Piddly

    malefemale Wet white shorts

    I've uploaddd the video, but thought I'd share a few photos too. Stumbled across an old pair of white shorts and decided to have a bit of fun with them. Yellow is more my colour anyway 😉