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Found 10 results

  1. I've been into this ever since I can remember. I have vague recollections from my kindergarten years where a kid who was in my class wet himself and I was very interested in it. When I was in elementary school a saw the aftermath of many wetting and I remember being very fascinated with them. I also discovered masturbation very early on: whenever I had to pee, I would play around with myself and it felt really good. I would often lay down on floor, face down, hands in my pants and just enjoy the feeling that a full bladder mixed with genital manipulation gave me. Of course I was totally oblivious to what I was doing. I had a hunch it was something dirty, something "not ok", and never discussed the subject with any adult. I think that might be what cemented the connection between urine and sexuality for me. But it still doesn't explain why I'm specifically into wetting and not just pee. I also remember that were some times when I was interested in both boys and girls wetting their pants, but boys soon took over as the main focus of my interest. I had my own share of wetting accidents as a kid, but nothing out of the ordinary. I was never known as the pee pee pants kid. But I remember I was already fantasizing about my own accidents not too long after they'd happened. When I grew up and entered middle school I started exploring my sexuality and that's when I realized I was something different from the other guys in my class. They were talking about girls and how hot they were, boobs, vaginas, I-fuck-your-mom jokes and all of that middle school silliness, exploring their own developing heterosexuality. I felt lost because I knew girls didn't interest me, but I felt even more lost because I had this deep secret I couldn't tell. I liked boys wetting themselves. That's the only thing I was sure of. But I still didn't know it was a sexual thing. On top of that, I was a pretty regular kid with regular kid interests and hobbies, I liked cars and videogames, didn't talk with a lisp and my wrists weren't limp, so it never dawned on me that I was gay. Even though I was suddenly falling in love with half of my male classmates lol. I know it sounds silly, but that's how stereotypes work in the mind of a middle schooler from 2009 who never knew gay guys could be anything other than trash-tv queens and men who dressed up as women. [I hope my words don't offend anyone. This is just to show how I felt about it back in the day, in the deep recesses of the closet. I love every gay guy no matter how masculine or feminine he is, limp-wristed or not lol. Now back to the story!] I spent the whole prima media year [6th grade] fantasizing about boys wetting their pants in every possible way. I had an old dumb phone that I would use to record tracks of myself becoming vocally desperate and wetting myself in front of the boys I liked. Sometimes it would be the opposite, creating scenarios where the boys I liked would pee their pants and I would react to that. I had an English textbook with little introductory scenes for each lesson unit that had pictures of boys that I found really attractive. Well... I would take a pencil and draw a piss pattern on their pants. Sometimes I would even add a comment from their point of view like "Oh no I pissed myself!" or "oh shit I hope nobody founds out I peed my pants!" Inside a little comic bubble. Lol This until 2010 rolls around. I'm in seconda media [7th grade] and my dad finally decides to have a Wi Fi connection installed in our house. Prior to that, I had no way of accessing the internet. I'm excited but I'm also a bit scared. I didn't know what this secret of mine was about. For all I knew, it might have been a mental illness and I the only person suffering from it in the world. So one day I decide to google something along the lines of "I love pissing my pants" after a similar search in Italian had yielded poor results. And that's how I came across Mikisit's Tumblr page. I couldn't believe my eyes. A treasure trove full of pictures and videos of guys wetting their pants. My hormones were going crazy. But more importantly, Mikisit's Tumblr page made me realize what my secret really was: a sexual fetish. A kink. And I WAS NOT THE ONLY ONE THAT HAD IT! This was a big relief for me, but at the same time it instilled a big fear into me: does this actually mean that... I'm gay? I had my dark moments where I tried to abstain from the fetish in the hopes that it would go away. This would always end in catastrophic failure, since my abstinence only made the inevitable relapse ever so sweeter. At the same time I would try to watch "straight and normal" porn, masturbate to "straight and normal" porn, fantasize about girls... and I reckon I could have fallen asleep faster than getting even mildly aroused. "Straight and normal" porn was the most boring and uninspiring thing there was for me. But then there were also times when the fear of being gay subsided for a while, and that's when I got the courage to wet myself on purpose for the first time. I remember I put on an old pair of briefs I had laying around in my closet, and with a full bladder I hopped inside the shower and... nothing would come out. My brain was stopping me from wetting myself. I'd tried wetting my briefs with water a couple of days before, and it was very exciting. Now i was more excited than ever, but I just couldn't let go. I had to concentrate... And concentrate... And concentrate... When it finally happened. I let it go. I wet myself. I was more excited than I'd ever been. The whole experience just felt ecstatic. How could something this weird, this unusual, this frowned upon feel so damn good? I felt like new doors of perception had been opened to me. As time went by, I became more and more familiar with what the internet had to offer in terms of male omorashi. Mikisit's Tumblr blog and the rest of Tumblr's goodness, the great stories on Experience Project, Yahoo Answers and, of course, Omorashi.org . The good old wetting videos on YouTube and Vimeo. Anything I could lay my hands (or rather, my clicks) on. The years went on and in terza superiore (10th grade) I feel deeply in love with a guy in my class. Another one in the great series of my teenage years' unrequited loves. We had a fight and when our friendship died down it made me feel so sad that I remember crying hidden in my room. This event led me to an epiphany. As if by magic, I suddenly realized I was gay. Now the world made sense. That special interest that I'd had for boys, that was because I was gay. The funny feeling in my tummy when I was with him, that was being in love. And me liking guys wetting themselves... That was also because I was gay. Once I figured it out, I accepted it right away. I'm gay and that's fine. But I still had a problem. I still hadn't fully accepted my fetish. It felt weird that i was able to come out to people, to tell them I was gay, but still had trouble accepting omorashi. The thing is, omorashi is not a secondary thing for me. It is the primary force of my sexuality. It is what really gets my motor going. There is nothing in the world of sex that excites me as much as omorashi does. How could I find my way in the dating world when all my potential partners wanted dick picks, ass picks and talked about anal penetration and being a top or a bottom, when deep inside I wanted to tell them "actually I don't really care about penetrating you or you penetrating me but I would sure love if you could piss your pants for me"? This is a crucial question and it's what stopped me from finding a sexual partner many times. Over the years I finally accepted who I was fully, including my omorashi side. I got more and more brave with my wetting exploits, which I will tell you about in detail in the future. But getting an omorashi partner is always hard. I tried mentioning wetting to people and was ghosted many times. There seem to be fetishes like BDSM, masochism, and foot play that are well known and less taboo to talk about, but omorashi is not. With perseverance I managed to find somebody who would try omorashi for me, and it was a very nice experience. I also got to know a few people who share my passion for wetting, and that was very nice too. But many steps have yet to be made for our community. I want to end this post saying that if you ever feel like your wetting fetish is wrong, don't worry. It's not. You are what you are. It's nobody's choice, nor fault. Wetting your pants feels good and hurts no one! Plus it's also pretty tame and soft-core compared to many other fetishes, so there really is no reason to feel ashamed and to live in denial. As always, feel free to comment, share your thoughts and ideas etc. I really love reading from you and interacting with you. I really hope you enjoyed this read and found it worthwhile.
  2. Here is the original summary: A sortcore furry novella showing two sexually inexperienced young adults and their interactions as they learn about each other as friends, objects of desire, and lovers, through the exploration of their beliefs and their bodies. I have this uploaded on a couple of furry sites, but I figured it would be appropriate here as well considering that it is omorashi oriented. This is maybe a year or so old, so the content of the writing is fairly embarrassing, but somebody asked me to continue an older, similar story to this called Ally, so I decided to upload this instead. If you're interested in other furry omorashi stories--all of which are more recent and higher quality in terms of prose than this--please check the links in my profile that lead to my inkbunny and furaffinity accounts. I will upload another chapter every few days, but all that is currently written for this is currently uploaded to my inkbunny and fa accounts. I will start with the first two chapters, since the omorashi does not begin until chapter two. Chapter One: "God... that feels amazing." "It really does. Shame everyday can't be like this." The wind smelled of pine and the beams of sunlight peaking through the leaves of the Tree helped off-set the cool weather. Each gust of wind caused an uproar, rattling the head of the Tree, and blowing leaves all about the woods to the west. Xavier's hand lingered to his side, plucking blades of grass from their roosts. He twiddled his fingers together, crushing each blade into a tight ball, and tossing it to the nether. Next to him was a beautiful woman -- though he did not dare put his hands on her. It wasn't as if he didn't crave. Grass was the last thing he wanted to feel between his fingers, but his hands remained between their hips, as he was not willing to risk something so special over greed and lust. All he needed was patience. She had become increasingly comfortable with him as their relationship developed, and he could tell that she wanted it too. "Have you ever traveled?" He looked over at her in response. "Wait..." She looked at him and squinted. "Have I asked you that before?" He chuckled. "I don't think so, but you might of. I could have forgotten... And to answer your question, I haven't. Well, unless you count here." "Oh yeeeaaaah, you came down here from up north..." She looked back up at the sky. "You must be liking the weather even more than me." "Oh, you can't even imagine." "Not a fan of the cold?" "I don't really think anybody is when you lived somewhere as cold I did... I am sure it is a lot nicer down here, though." She looked at him with a look of excitement. "Our winters are great. I mean, you get your cold days, like, the kinds of days that you might even put on a jacket for, but honestly, it is just really nice most of the time. If anything, it gets too hot..." "I've heard bad things about the summers." "Ugh! The summers are terrible! When he looked over, she was again looking at the sky. Reflexively, his eyes shot down her body, admiring it. He couldn't believe someone so real and down to earth could have a body like hers; like something out of a fantasy. His hand clutched the ground as he also turned to face the clouds. In his peripheries, he saw her look over at him. She examined him for only a few moments before looking back toward the clouds as well. Xavier forced his mind back into focus. "And what about you? Have you ever traveled." He turned to face her, this time stealing a glance of her body before looking to her face, in a means so rapid and inconspicuous it startled even him. "Wait.... Have I asked you that before" She giggled. "No, I've never been anywhere other than here. I've been to the city before, but as you've seen, there isn't much going on there." "Never seen any... skyscrapers, or anything like that?" "Nope. Nothing even close. Unless you count movies and the internet and stuff. Biggest building I ever saw was for some bank building when we went to the city. Or maybe one of the hotels.... Either way, they were big, but they weren't really all that big." "No, I know what you mean. I've never really seen anything that big myself." "Even in the city?" "Nah, our city didn't really have anything that impressive. I saw some decently large ones like you described pretty often, but they tend to... lose their oomf I guess." "Did you ever stay in any of them? The hotels?" "Have I ever stayed in a hotel?" "You know! The big ones." "Yes, I've stayed in big hotels." "And was it on the higher floors?" "That... I can't really remember. I was pretty young." "... You answered my question like you had." She responded with mild annoyance. "I answered the question that you asked. Nothing more. Nothing less." He smiled. "Hmf." "... And what about you?" "What about me? Have I ever stayed in a big hotel? You should know I haven't." "I should?" "Yes. Why would ever have a reason to stay in a big hotel if I've never left the state?" "I... suppose that is true." He squinted. "But its a little presumptuous." "I disagree. Sometimes people should be presumptuous." "... But then how do you disagree? You just said it is presumptuous." "That wasn't my point. I was just saying that... presuming would have made more sense than what you did." "What I did?" "Yes, you took the easy way out. You could have assumed that I have never stayed in a hotel, it would have been perfectly reasonable." "And was what I said not reasonable?" "No, just spineless.". "Well..." There was silence following his verbal defeat. With anyone else, it would have been awkward, but with Erin there was a sense of mutual recognition, and they accepted it wordlessly. Each moment spent together was better than if it had been spent apart, and this was the only truth they needed to undo any degree of awkwardness that might linger. They remained silent for a number of minutes. Xavier's focus shifted back to the atmosphere surrounding them. There wasn't anywhere he would have rather been. "Xavier...?" A rare tone for her: inquisitive but cautious. "Yeah?" She paused for a few moments before speaking: "Have you...?" Her voice quickly trailed off. "... Have I what?" "No... it's nothing." "Nothing...? Are you sure? Because now you have me curious." "It isn't important." "Isn't important implies it is still a thing... You can't just leave me hanging. Come oooon." She paused for a moment, before swallowing and looking over at Xavier. "Have you ever touched, like... a breast?" She bobbed her chin downward, as if she were motioning toward her own. "Uh," he chuckled, "what?" "Yeah, yeah, it was nothing." "Oh. Oh, no. It was definitely something. It was extremely something." "It really wasn't." They were both silent. Xavier did not feel uncomfortable, but he could not confidently say for Erin; though his continuous staring at her made it abundantly clear the topic had not been dropped. He sighed. "Honestly? No. I am embarrassed to admit that, but no, I've never touched... a breast." "Oh." She had an uncharacteristic lack of emotion in her voice. "That's good." "... That's good? Why is that good?" She blushed. "Am I supposed to want you to have touched breasts?" "I honestly didn't think you'd care." He laughed. She didn't respond for several moments. Xavier worried he had offended her, but couldn't get an accurate read on her expression. "Do you wanna touch mine-?" "-Yeah, that would be awesome." She looked at him, blushing harder, looking violated as she crossed her arms over her chest. "God, you didn't have to reply so quick." He chuckled. "Sorry." "It is like you knew what I was going to say..." "I guess my mind just kinda honed in... Can you blame me?" Their was a brief silence as the stealth compliment registered in her brain. He waited for her to follow up, worrying she would change her mind and retract the offer. But staring into the amorphous patterns of white and crimson that covered her black fur left him feeling hopeful and even confident. She uncrossed her arms and adjusted herself, sighing as her face became emotionless. "Okay, I am ready." "So, I can touch them?" She licked her bottom lip nervously. "Yeah." He swallowed heavily, hoping she did not overhear it. His hand balled into a fist as he wondered how he should do it. Was he to do it quickly? And in that display his politeness and restraint? Or would that in fact insist a lack of passion, and peg him as the unromantic type? Would he do it slowly, and savor the experience? Or would this land him a spot in her mind as lewd and disconcerting? Could he just ask her? Why did such a question feel taboo in the first place? How did such a pleasurable moment become a test of this personality? ...Or was it intended to be that? He silenced his thoughts, knowing they had become presumptuous and absurd. There was only one answer to his question and it wasn't in his thoughts, but in his body. He lifted his hand, heart about to burst from his chest, and he placed it gently on her breast, taking note of the surprising softness of the fur in that area. Her eyes closed, and when he pressed down, she pushed back with her chest. He lightly squeezed, and she moaned to herself, quickly captivated by the moment. Xavier figured they were no bigger than b-cups, but they matched her shape well. She had a fairly average build, but slightly bottom heavy, with hips and thighs that were large enough to stand out in intimate settings, but conservative enough to go unnoticed in casual ones. He squeezed again and let his hand linger for several more moments before begrudgingly pulling away. When he removed his hand her eyes opened, and through a mask of red, she glanced at him, before quickly looking away. It was a candid moment for her, and with her permission, he had not only the right to observe it, but the pleasure of causing it. It was apparent through his experience that the social test he perceived was not for him, but for them, and the pressure had been equal for them both. "Well?" She asked, seeming offended. "It was amazing." "... Good." "It seemed like you enjoyed it too." "Well..." He took solace in his verbal victory, having equaled the score. But of even bigger concern was the question of what to do next-- a question that, strangely enough, had only just then occurred to him. Was he to pursue the obvious romantic que which had been dropped, or play the cool route and let things happen as they would? And then, as if his current conundrum wasn't complex enough, there was the unspoken reaction of the heterosexual male in hand-to-breast situations. He was afraid to look down, feeling the tension quickly growing in his lower body --much to his dismay. She was not going to be the only one put in a directly vulnerable position that day, and no matter how he tried to relax himself, he knew once the process had begun, there was no stopping it. Surely, she would notice it, and then what? Would she comment on it? Would she be pleased by the sight? Disturbed? Surprised? Or even stranger, expectant... Then again, maybe expecting it was the most normal thing a person could do. He pondered this, trying to think of way to avoid the awkward situation that was awaiting him when she inevitably noticed the extra half foot protruding from his body. It was then he was struck with an epiphany, something that felt both comfortable and progressive, without being cliched -- but bold and not without its risks. He swallowed, knowing the next few moments, regardless of what he did, would be emotionally stressful; though in their stress he found a taste of something potent and enslaving, and so he took deep pleasure in this state, finding its rawness appealing. "Hey, Erin." She looked over at him curiously, with a glassy expression that was reflective, honest, and above all, fragile. "Have you ever kissed a guy?" Her eyes widened slightly and her lips parted. She quickly fixed her expression, catching her own candicy after the fact. She was left red and consumed. "I..." She blinked. "I..." A smile crept on her lips. Before she could answer, a wave of amusement seemed to come from nowhere and overtake her. She started off with stifled giggles, but they soon erupted into genuine laughter. Xavier smiled for a moment, waiting to see if the apparent joke would dawn on him too, but when he did not laugh, he felt himself become unnerved. She seemed to realize her poor timing, because she forced an apology out between giggles, but soon fell back into a state of continuous laughter. "Wow, that's pretty cold." He tried to sound cool, as if he had shrugged it off, but there was still a chill to his tone. "No... No... I am so.... I am sorry." She was quickly getting herself back under control. "I really didn't mean it like that. I swear." She struggled to catch her breath. "That was just... Oh my God, Xavier, don't do that again, I almost freakin' peed myself." "... Why?" She looked at him with a sympathetic deadpan. "Look, it wasn't like... you or anything. It was just, the situation. It was too much. It's like... that happened so fast. And I mean, of all the things you could have said..." She smiled to herself in mock amusement. "Oh. Well, I am sorry if I took it a little quick." He chuckled, trying to play his earlier offense off as tastefully as he could. "No, no, it's not your fault. It was a really... sweet way for you to follow that up. And, I mean, there is a chance I would have started laughing from... anything. It's just, I didn't expect that at all!" "... You didn't expect it? Well, if you didn't expect that, what exactly did you expect?" "What did I expect?" She was taken aback. "You can't ask me something like that! What am I supposed to say?" "What do you mean 'what are you supposed to say?'" He laughed. "Just answer honestly." "And what if I didn't know what to expect? What if I kinda felt like... it wasn't my job to know what was next. " She blushed and turned away from Xavier. "Oooh, I see. So all the pressure was on me." "You're one to complain." She looked at him with an eye brow raised. He laughed. "True." "You've got a lot to learn, Xavier." "Maybe. But it sounds like you do too, Erin. That expression you made when I asked, I kinda wanted to laugh myself." She turned to him with a frown and smacked him on the arm. "You should consider yourself lucky." She turned away again and crossed her arms. "Oh, I do. I do." "Oh? You do?" she glared at him with skepticism. "I wonder if its for the right reasons." "... What if I said it was for all of them? Instead of just the right ones?" She smiled softly and turned to face him. "Then I would say you're a fast learner."
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