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Found 2 results

  1. Heyyy everyone!! It has been a little while since my last story, so here's a new one!! This one is super long because there was so much I was able to do! If you want to skip straight to the action, it's pretty packed from paragraph 3 on! There's an abandoned building near where I live that has been sitting, vacant, for quite some time. I've never paid much heed to it and don't even know what it originally was, but an article in the paper caught my eye in passing this past Tuesday. It has been scheduled for demolition in the near future. I've been dying for another pee adventure lately, so a lifelong dream immediately came to mind: If it's abandoned and scheduled for demolition, nobody will care if someone...perhaps...makes a bit of a mess around the place . At that moment, I knew I had plans for this weekend! Agonizingly, I waiting for today (Saturday) to come. Finally! A little earlier than most Saturdays, my alarm awakened me with a start. I leaped out of bed and started downing water right off the bat. I ate a good breakfast, threw on some ratty clothes and cheap flip-flops, and waited for 11AM: The time I set to start my adventure. I drank enough water throughout the morning that I was making a trip to the bathroom every 45 minutes or so. Finally, 11:00 rolled around and, skipping the bathroom before heading out, I threw a backpack with a change of clothes and 4 water bottles into my car (I meant business today), and sped off. Within 10 minutes, I pulled into a parking space down the street from the abandoned building. It stood there, as it had for years, completely still and silent. The only difference now is that it was surrounded by caution tape. Ducking under the tape, I cautiously approached. The urge to urinate was already beginning to form, but I wanted to ensure there were no other explorers before I started having my fun. Nobody else seemed to be traipsing around outside, so I tried the exterior doors--all locked. No worries, I thought, eying a busted window as the urge to pee loomed in my mind. I slid in through the window, taking care to avoid cutting myself on any jutting glass, and quietly stepped onto the cold tile floor, ensuring not to step on any glass shards. I was in a small office-like room, adequately lit by large windows on all sides. A small doorway led into what was presumably a hallway. A little burst of adrenaline surged through me, sending my heart pounding and teasing my bladder. I carefully explored every room, making sure I didn't have any company. It was totally vacant. I was getting really excited now! I glanced at my watch. 20 minutes had passed since I pulled up, and I was really feeling it, though I wasn't quite to the point of desperation just yet. I retrieved one of the bottles from my bag and took a swig. Anything more would've been painful. I returned to the hallway, which was dim, despite being midday, but I could still see well enough to navigate, which was good because I totally lacked the foresight to bring a flashlight. Where to go first? I'm not accustomed to being able to pee anywhere I want in a building that's not my apartment. I scanned the hall and my eyes rested on an obvious first choice. Let's make a mess of the men's room first, I mischievously thought. I set my backpack down against the wall and pushed open the door, which creaked loudly and slammed shut behind me, echoing through the empty hall. The men's room was well-lit, thanks to a frosted window on the far wall. I jittered with excitement as I looked at my options. There were two sinks, two urinals, and a stall. I pondered for a few moments as the desperation built. I was getting to the point of being fidgety. I gazed longingly at the urinals, but decided to exercise some patience and save them for later. First off, why not wet myself? I've always appreciated the irony of a good bathroom wetting, and now I'd be doing it in the men's room! I moved to the middle of the floor, turned to face the mirror behind the sinks, and grinned cheesily at myself. The left half of the mirror was shattered, but some still remained on the right, so I shifted over to where I could see myself clearly, then backed up to the point that I could see my crotch. I danced a little, up and down, grabbed myself for good measure, and then succumbed to the pressure. There was a brief pause, where everything seemed perfectly still. Then, I felt a spray of urine abruptly douse my panties. I cracked a smile as I felt warmth pour into my pants, drenching my lady bits and butt. I looked up at the mirror and saw a wet patch forming between the legs of my jeans, running down my thighs in little streaks. I could hear a little hiss and let out a half-sigh, half-laugh as fluid cascaded down my legs. From the view in the mirror, I admired the flood that was swiftly conquering my pants, right in front of two urinals. Urine began pouring out of each pant leg, leaving my feet and flip-flops gleaming in the light. It was exhilarating! While I was still peeing, I turned around, my flip-flops splashing quietly in the puddle that was forming beneath me. I turned to look at my butt, which was also glistening with flowing moisture. I briefly wished I could stand there making a mess all over the men's room floor forever, but then I remembered I had other places to pee afterward! Finally, the stream came to a trickling end. I was so hydrated, however, that every few seconds, I could shoot off another spurt of pee into my jeans. I giggled and looked around at the mess I made. I was completely soaked from the waist down, my jeans now considerably darker than when I started. There was a giant puddle in the middle of the floor, slowly trickling toward the floor drain. The novelty hadn't worn off yet, so I didn't want to leave the men's room. Finally, however, I surrendered and went back out to the hallway, where I could grab some water. In the hallway, as I finished off the bottle, penis envy hit me like crazy. What I would give to be able to whip out a penis and walk down the hall, showering the walls in pee! I thought, jealously. As I was wandering down that trail of thought, it occurred to me: We ladies would have it so much easier if we could relieve ourselves without removing our pants and without making a mess, just like guys. With virtually unlimited freedom, I figured I could give it a shot! I wandered the building, still soaked in my own pee, while I continued to drink and wait for the urge to build back up. In about 15 minutes, I was nearly dancing around again. I dashed back into the men's room, this time to a urinal! I splashed through the puddle I left before and made my way to the taller one, which wasn't far below my lady bits. I shivered with excitement (and admittedly some cold, since my pee-saturated pants had long since cooled off by then), and goosebumps raised on my arms. Unlike my last urinal encounter, it didn't matter how much of a mess I made--I was already a disaster! I undid my jeans and pondered how I wanted to do this. I was determined to pee through the fly in the name of some deluded concept of gender-urine-equality...or something . I pulled off my jeans long enough to remove my panties and relish in being naked from the waist-down in the men's room. I set my panties down, draping them over the sink, and put my jeans back on. If I can make this work, I'm going commando everywhere for the rest of my life, I grinned to myself as I tried to orient myself over the urinal. There's no way this will work, I thought, laughing at the ridiculous stance I had assumed. I had my legs stretched far apart with my hips thrust as far forward as I could. I was pressing my jeans against myself as hard as reasonably possible, with my vulva peeking out from the undone zipper and button, my labia held open with my free fingers. "Here goes," I muttered, and began to relieve myself. Initially, I was a little shocked! The first stream of urine shot out cleanly and straight into the urinal! I let out a quiet cheer, which proved to be very premature. Within seconds, pee shot off to the side and, really, everywhere. I felt the familiar warmth dripping down my pants and I wrestled with my urethra and the surrounding hardware--or lack thereof. My hands quickly became drenched in the effort, and the legs of my jeans were darkened anew. Pee splattered all over the front of the urinal, off to the side, into my pants, and on occasion, actually into it. This whole endeavor was leaving me more excited than I could've imagined. I thought I was going to orgasm right there, with my vagina hanging over a men's urinal! When the contents of my bladder came to a trickling end, I noticed I was trembling, the room felt like a furnace, and I had faint residue of sweat forming on my goosebump-covered skin. I closed my eyes and stood there for a good while, simply taking in the ethereal pleasure with the front of my jeans gaping wide open. My whole body was tingling with excitement and I had chills. I'm not entirely certain how long I stood there, trembling, drenched in pee, my pants wide open, in front of the urinal, but it felt almost as though I was going to fall asleep. After a brief eternity, I shook myself back to sense. I felt weirdly worn-out, but I wanted more--I needed more. I stayed there for hours chugging my water and peeing wherever my heart desired. It was amazing! After I thoroughly trashed the men's room (and of course, tried the urinal several more times), I peed all over the floor of the office I entered though, and even managed to pee a splotch against a wall with moderate success! Finally, it was nearing 3:00PM and I had consumed the last of my water. For today's final hoorah, I waited until I had to pee pretty badly, then stripped totally naked (in the men's room, of course) except for my flip-flops. I briefly looked into the mirror and appreciated the female anatomy that had conquered the gent's bathroom for the day. Then, I started peeing, watched it gush from the folds of my labia, and ran for the door, pee streaming all the way. Urine streaked down my legs and pattered to the floor as I streaked out of the men's room and down the hall. It was incredibly liberating and absolutely thrilling! I felt like a ridiculous child, but reveled in my nakedness and the trail of pee I was leaving all over the building, giggling with joy all the way. I must've looked 100% ridiculous. A grown woman, entirely nude, running around peeing, while giggling like a little girl. Sadly, it came to a dribbly end, at last. I went back to my backpack, oogling the mess I'd made over the course of the afternoon, grabbed my fresh clothes, and replaced them with my soaked jeans and panties. I wanted to enjoy being naked a little longer, so I refrained from getting dressed until I made it back to the window I climbed into. I popped a squat and peed one last spurt for good measure, before drying myself with my shirt, and then putting on my clean clothes. I climbed back out the window and drove home, tingling with excitement all the way. I turned on the shower and proceeded to masturbate like I never have before! I hope you all got at least half the pleasure out of this that I did!!!
  2. I’ve always enjoyed long walks alone in quiet environments. On Friday, after being rather busy lately, I decided to take a wonder around the countryside surrounding the cottage I rent a room in. It was around 10am, and the sun was offering a warm glow. Under the trees, the shade was cool and refreshing. But I do have to admit there was a cheeky reason for my walk. You see, since moving to the UK, I’ve had nowhere to take mischievous tinkles outside. There is a beautiful old tree standing alongside a bridal way on my cycle home from college, but it doesn’t offer the greatest protection from prying eyes. Through fear of interruption, I’m only ever comfortable to squat and water the grass around it’s base. So yesterday I found myself wondering along paths and narrow tracks in the surrounding woodland. My goal to find a private place I could visit again and again. With naughty thoughts on my mind and a spring in my step, I was finding the paths least crossed paths by judging undergrowth and otherwise undisturbed vegetation. I had a small bag with me, containing a change of pants and that all important towel. I was following a path that had clearly not been walked for some time. Wearing boots, thick jeans and a long sleeved dark blue top to protect my skin, I pushed aside branches and trod carefully through ferns, being cautious to not leave tracks of my own. I’d got onto this route back at an apparent cross-road about a mile south. A fallen tree had seemingly rendered this particular path out of reach for the local dog walkers. But in contrast to most of the locals, my young nimble body had no trouble navigating around these obstacles. Eager to wet my skinny jeans I’d already forced a few squirts of pee to dampen the fabric. Through the trees ahead I could see a manmade structure, and at this point I started to pay particular attention to the ground ahead. My intention was to try and spot evidence of human tracks, some sign that another person had visited recently, but I saw none. I approached the building in disbelief. When I’d set out to find a private place for some fun in the woods, I was expecting a tiny clearing or an uprooted tree providing a visual shield from passers by. This was far greater. Not only was I intrigued by it’s privacy but I’m drawn to abandoned places. Ever since seeing an old car in the woods when I was young, I’ve loved the overgrown nature and manmade cross over. My heart was beginning to pump. Adrenaline was on the rise. It was a small shack, wooden walls and a corrugated tin roof. At a guess I’d say around 10x12 foot, standing around 6 feet tall. I walked it’s permitter a few times, checking for other access routs and trying to see through the trees to what lay beyond. It appeared my goal was reached. This place was in the middle of no-wear. It had clearly not been used for several years, and the possibility of another human having visited in the last few months was very slim. The door was made up of thin rotted wooden panels, no different to that of a shed. There was a heavily corroded latch on the left hand side, but no padlock. With caution, I swung the door open and looked around inside. My heart pumped. Now, knowing I was completely alone and with no chance of interruption, I started my hunt for the spot I’d pee. My adrenaline levels were starting to give me flutters of excitement. I was horny. I was ready. Ready to feel the heat in my pants. Ready to see the damp down the inside of my legs. There were two rooms, the first lit by light through the crack in the door, and the second through a small hole in the roof. With the exception of a small stall in the first room, there were no furnishing. The floor just mossy, uneven earth. It had clearly been intended for storage, how ever many years ago it had been built. My knees were beginning to shake. A gentle breeze drifted through the gaps in the wooden walls. I stood in the second room, looking at the floor. Birdsong. Wind through thick, bushy branches. Standing on the spot, I closed my eyes. My legs were crossed, but now I separated them. I breathed in. The magic mix of nerves and excitement simmering in me. Then, I relaxed. Warmth filled my already damp panties. I breathed in sharply, smiling and biting my lip. The first squirt wasn’t visible from the outside. Horny and in a hurry, I untied my boots and set them aside. My socks settled in the soft floor. Once again I stood upright, closed my eyes and allowed another hot squirt into my pants. It felt so good. Delicately, I tickled myself through the fabric of my jeans. Shivers ran through me. The contact was enough to settle all nerves and another squirt of hot pee ran into the denim. Now, a wet patch was appearing in my crotch. The squirt opened up into a continuous flow. A roaring hiss began. My hart raced. My body raged with excitement. The denim absorbed the pee like no other fabric. My bladder poured into my panties. I could feel the tingling warmth reaching up around my pert bottom. A thin trickle broke through at the front and found it’s way down the inside of my legs. I was feeling so very naughty. In mid flow I crossed my legs again, allowing the hot pee to collect above me knees before breaking over and running once again along my calves. My hands trembled with excitement. As my bladder emptied its last dashes of hot pee, I watched the puddle soaking into the ground around my feet. Now, with soaked jeans, I stood in the dark little shack. Two great damp patches stretched from my crotch, down the inside of my legs and all the way to my socks. The dark wet teared over the front of of my right thigh, where I’d crossed my legs. Up top the warm, wet fabric rubbed me as I snuffled on the spot. Behind, the pee had collected around my bottom, leaving a curved patch underlining my cheeks. The tight fabric hardly left enough room to slip my trembling hand down the waste band. I stood on the watery spot, playing and relieving that build up hormones. I think it’s safe to say I will be visiting that hut again and again in the rest of my time at college. x