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My pronouns are..


I'm into..

  1. A big turn on/fantasy for me is losing control or deliberately wetting while in the arms of a partner and them losing control or deliberately wetting aswell. I have always been a sucker for cuddling as it is in my eyes one of the strongest forms of bonding put there and I just feel it is very nice and wholesome. Sometimes about throwing omo into the mix and feeling both you and your partners hot piss sort of mixing as you embrace while you both experience the same exact relief just seems really nice and not even in a overly sexual way. So this begs the question, what are your thoughts on this. Does someone else share this fantasy or is this one hyper specific to me?
  2. Introduction: Hi! This is sort of my first fiction I've ever written. Probably the longest text I've ever written that wasn't school related. I appologise in advance. English is like my third language, I'm not as fluent as I'd like to be, and even in my own language my story-telling skills suck. If you liked it, that is great. If you didn't like it, please write something that is good then, and share it with our whole community to enjoy! Margaret's biggest in awhile: Margaret stood at the check out line of the grocery store in her local shopping mall. To her fellow shoppers her pose might have come of as a causual feminine stand, there she was behind her almost full cart with her left foot on its toe and knee turned slightly inwards. The truth was, she wasn't concious about it, she just tried to gather her thoughts on what she had picked up and if she had forgotten something. Normally when Margaret went to the store, it was like top 5 things she had to pick up, but tonight was abit out of the ordinary. About a week ago, she had gotten a WhatsApp-message from her old roommate from Universty, Christina, wich she actually hadn't met in person since, what had it been now, 10 months, when they graduated last June. They were besties and all that, but after finishing their degrees they had both gotten a job back in their respective home towns, wich was sadly in quite a distance from each other. Margaret majored in bio engeneering, her friend in cardiology. After abit of texting last week, Christina had said that she had a whole weekend off this week, and as she worked as a hospital nurse that really didn't happen very often. Margaret had been quick to suggest that her friend come stay over at her place for the whole weekend. If Christina traveled up on Friday, Margaret could likely dish up a late night dinner for them. Saturday they could check out the nightlife in town, and Sunday they could just chill out at home before Christina had to travel back in the evening. Both had agreed that this was a fantastic idea, no one knew how long it would be till the next opportunity arose, it could be another 10 months, so they decided to just do it. This is why Margaret was standing at the check out line with an unusually loaded cart this particular Friday afternoon. It was after work rush hour, and on a Friday, you can imagine the stores were quite crowded. The line felt like it had lasted forever. But finally! The person right infront of Margaret was now the one being serviced at the register, so she took a step forward, gently stroaked her wawy brown hair behind her ears and started loading her items on to the counter. Vegetables, taco shells, spices, extra toilet paper, meat, some toast bread, a couple of cases with beer and a box of red wine (hey, no one care how sophisticated it is, as long as it gives you a buzz, right). She had planned to "surprise" Christina with tacos, it's what they used to have every Friday for the 5 years they used to live together. By the time Margaret had unloaded her cart the guy in front of her had finished, so she stepped forward to the register, asked for 5 plastic bags, paid, then walked to the end of the counter and started loading the groceries into the bags. While standing there, her right leg now sort of migrated to the same possition her left leg was in earlier. Foot on its toe and knee turned slightly inwards. Any boys who might have walked by could also have noticed that her big shapely buttocks seemed to be alittle tighter than normal, as if she were flexing them abit. The truth was, she really needed to use a restroom quite badly, and this was her body's practically subconcious way of relieving some pressure off of her pelvic muscles. Margaret was of course aware of this need, but she paid very little attention to it, and at 8/10 it's not like it was an emergency yet. She straigtened her right foot and put it down on the floor so that she stood there with her legs sort of loosely crossed over her calfs while she finished packing up her things. Five bags ready, she had to reposition her fingers a few times to catch a good grip on it, it was heavy, but with about equal weight in both hands this should be fine, and she started walking out of the check out area, into the main alleyway of the shopping mall, and towards the front entrence. Margaret was quite a sight on any day, with her volupteous curves, but walking down the mall this day with heavy bags in both her arms, and trying to keep her shoulders straight, it kind of accentuated her large breasts, that wabbled alittle bit with each step she took. She herself was not very confident with her body, all her friends were much slimmer, she thought she looked like a plump hippo, big boobs, a round buttom, and most of all she hated how her belly would sort of fold over the edge of her jeans/pants when she was sitting or bending. (Stupid girl, no one's stomack is flat when they are sitting down, she looked gorgeous). As she passed the restrooms, she shook her head to one side in an attempt to get one stubborn wawy brown hair lock out of her face. Her lovely blue eyes shot a longing look over her shoulder at the lady's sign in the short moments after she passed her last opportunity to go before getting home. It was too much of a hassle to get in there with all these bags, so without hesitation she continued out to the parking lot, and found her car. Under normal circumstances she might even have considered stopping by the toilets for a quick pee, but not with all the bags, and she actually needed to do alot more than a neat little pee. It was however her bladder that kept nagging her the most though. She hadn't peed since lunch break, wich wasn't uncommon for her, she never peed inbetween luch break and upon getting home, but this day the shopping had taken longer than anticipated, and she could now feel her bladder press in her lower stomach area. Of course the shopping could've been done any of the previous 5 days, but Margaret had it with procrastinating everything. In the middle of the parking lot she halted for half a minute or so, partially so she could put down her bags and stretch her fingers, but equally much so she could cross her legs and bend over a little bit. It was quite bad, Margaret hadn't had to go this bad in several months. Her dark blue jeans were like painted on, skin tight, and kept pushing right around her waste line, and it didn't help that her intestines put pressure on her bladder from the inside either. Pooping was never something clockwork and regular for Margaret, she went number two maybe every other day or so, and it was usually one or two solid logs, but the consistency depended alot on what she had eaten. It was one of these big solid regular movements that was now filling her bowels, and making that extra pressure on her balloon of pee behind her uthrea. After renewing her grip of her shopping bags, she continued to her car. A few meters before she reached the old rusty Toyota that she called her car, she let rip this long muffled fart. She could feel the warmth linger in her bikini panties while it slowly seeped through the fabric. It lessened the pressure on her bladder ever so slightly. "Fuck, I really don't wanna piss myself today!" Margaret thought as she reached her Toyota, and opened the back door in order to put in her groceries. Soon she would be in the privacy of her own car, that could only make it easier to hold herself. Even if she did loose a few spurts on the drive home, it wouldn't be a big deal, no one would see it, and it was far from the first time her driver's seat had been dampened by urine. She just didn't want it to happen today. Today was going to be a good day, Christina was coming. Besides, she had been doing so good lately, not even dribbled in her underwear in atleast 3 weeks, and she didn't want to break that possitive chain. You see, Margaret kind of had a habbit of never going to the toilet untill it was absolutely necessary, not because she despiced using public facillities or something, but more because she couldn't be bothered, and always tended to overestimate how easy it would be to hold it and just go at a later stage. It wasn't rare for Margaret to first head to the toilet after she had felt a few dribbles in her panties, or after she had started turtleheading. This, understandably, lead to freqent minor mishaps, and atleast a handful of times a year it would result in a full on shoe soaking and/or panty filling accident. This was not something Margaret was proud of, nor was she particularilly embarrassed about it either. It was just something that happens. Most of the friends she had had throughout the years had never teased her over it, some would be sympathetic, others would try as good as possible to act oblivious about the fact that their friend had just had an accident. Christina was one of the few that actually aknowledged it, she would kind of lightheartedly try to laugh and joke it off whenever it happened infront of her, and boy had it happened infront of her many times during the years they lived together. About every time they were coming home from a party, or just a long school day or something, Margaret would sprint ahead as soon as their apartment block was in sight, and by the time Christina made it inside and was taking off her jacket and shoes, Margaret would sheepishly emerge from the bathroom and head to her bedroom with a wet patch the size of a dinner plate on her jeans or dress. Other times Christina would come in to a pungent smell in the hallway, and hear the shower running. But back to this day, all this was to say that Margaret was no stranger to having accidents. She just really really didn't want to start of this great weekend with a big cleanup, even though the urgency of her needs more and more started to make her realize that the inevitable was going to happen. Margaret shut the trunk, and walked up to the driver's door, crossed her legs while she opened it, and then slowly lowered her thick beautiful rounded butt into the seat. "God, I'm fucking not gonna make, again! Damn!!" Margaret thought to herself as her butt hit the seat, and the waistband and top button of her slim fit jeans dug into her lower belly, and a sharp pain became apparrent at the top of her bladder. She cursed herself for not going before she left work, this pain was too much to endure for her. Margaret was somewhat of a crybaby, if she felt any sort of pain, she would instantly start to feel tears well up in her eyes, and something tighen in the back of her throat. It was often at this stage she started leaking, partially because her muscles were too numb to hold back anymore, and partially she let it happen because it might relieve some of the pain. This was reaching that level of bad really fast. "I'm never gonna make this anyway, I might as well let out a good few spurts, this hurts, and I kinda already have to shower from this sweaty struggle of a drive home it's gonna be". The car could be cleaned. She knew from experience that if she scrubbed the seat with soapwater and let it air out, the smell of an accident would be mostly gone by 3-4 days. Actually, the center of the seat was a tiny bit discolored from all the times it had been wet, and on warm days a faint odor could almost always be smelled in this car, but not bad enough that anyone would notice unless they knew it was there. Not that it mattered, she commuted alone anyway. The Toyota gave a roar as Margaret put it in gear, backed out of the parking spot, and turned out of the parking lot and on to the road. Sitting down driving, it was impossible to cross her legs, so she sat with her legs normally, but her left knee were bumping up and down at a rapid pace. Suddenly the knee stopped, her left hand shot to her croth and she sqeezed her thighs together. A few droplets left her labias and trickled down her perineum towards her asshole. Then a couple of more followed the same path. Margaret could feel a tiny bit of dampness on her index and middle finger. This was no use. She put her hand back up at the steering wheel, and let her legs migrate out to a natural sitting possition. No debate was needed in her mind, a decission was made to try relieve some of this pressure. She let out one half second spurt. Then a 1 second spurt. Then another 1 second spurt. By now an area around her whole pussy and down to her asshole was covered in hot wetness. It hadn't helped anything to relieve the pain inside her though. If anything, this had only intensified the urgency. "Screw it!" Magaret said out loud to herself. She sighed heavily, and her shoulders dropped atleast a couple of centimeters when she completely relaxed her pelvic muscles. An audible hiss could be heard as the stream grew to hit her clothes with full force. Now the wetness spread out over her whole buttocks, it went up inside her groins to completely circumference her hips. Then it proceeded to wet the insides and undersides of her thighs down to the knees, some pee started to pool up between her legs, and a little bit went up her buttcrack and wet the lowest of her back. "Aaah!" she sighed, "I fucking knew I wouldn't make it, I haven't pissed myself this bad since I passed out at Jordan's party, but heck what a relief". It felt like her whole lower half was wrapped up in a warm soggy towel. But her body wasn't finished yet. As the last drops of pee made their way out, she could feel a fart brewing. Without thinking properly, Margaret just let it rip like she would do anytime she was alone. In her euphoric relief she had halfway forgotten how badly she needed to go number two too. Two days worth pressing on her sphincter. She could possibly have helt it in untill she came home, but when she let out this 3 second fart, it set the whole process in motion. The first half was like a normal rippling fart, "prrftprr". The second half of it was like when you can feel air going around a big turd inside you, and sort of seep out through a half open asshole, "ffffffff". When the fart ended, her asshole never closed, the poop was right at the edge of her ring. Margaret tried to squeeze it back inside, but moving anything upwards seemed quite impossible, and squeezing only made something shift further up in the intestines, and it hurt alot. "I gotta pinch off a nugget". This was also not something too unfamiliar for Margaret. In fact, the last time this had happened was in January. Sometimes when she helt her poop for too long, it would start to turtlehead beyound the point where it could be pressed back in, typically this would happen on her drive home, and Margaret would often just let it slide out untill it stopped agaist the seat and pinch off the end of her poop in her underwear. A golfball or two was usually enough to make her able to hold it till she could finish on the toilet, atleast if she wasn't wearing a belt, then a bit more might typically squeeze out as she fidgeted and struggled to undo her clothes. Margaret relaxed her sphincter. "A little shit won't make any difference, the seat is already drenched in piss". The head of an enormous poop started slowly sliding out, and this felt just like doing a normal poop on the toilet, untill it met resisistance, it coiled up alittle bit right around her asshole, and formed a mushroom head the size of a potato, before it stopped. This was abit more than she had anticipated, and the part that was stuck inside her ring right then was so hard that she didn't know if she could even pinch it off. Margaret squeezed with all her strength, in one big effort her face scrunched up and her knokles whitened around the steering wheel, but she was unable to clench it off. When she relaxed again to draw her breath, the poop inched alittle bit further than before, as it filled out where the squeeze had flattened some poop and created alittle room. "Christ, it's a biggie". This was a very uncomfortable, sitting there with the log half in half out, something needed to be done. She started pushing, "mhmm". The poop extended slowly, and the warm ball around her asshole grew slightly, and it stopped again. With her butt sitting down, and her skintight jeans, the poop had no place to go. She kind of bit her lower lip, pressed her back against the back of her car seat, tried to hold her feet steady while still driving, and lifted her butt off the seat. "Mmmhhrrrrmmh". Her face grimaced up, her asshole stretched to its limit, and this hot sticky pancake spread out her buttocks. "Grrrrr". Her buttcrack was packed all the way up. There was still a pretty wide part going through her asshole. She panted alittle bit, and gave a final push. "MmGrrrhmmmgrrrr". The last bit of the poop was quite abit softer and warmer, it coiled up right around her assring, and to finish it off a 3 second spurt of piss shot out and splattered all over the already soaked seat. After a few heavy sighs and alittle breathing, she slowly lowered herself down into sitting again. The poop was so hard it hardly flattened at all. It felt like she were sitting on a melon. The insides of Margaret's thighs already started to feel abit cool against her skin, as she pulled the Toyota into the main road and caught up with an SUV that were driving 10 km/h below the speed limit. "This ought to be one of the biggest craps I've ever taken on myself, glad I didn't wear a thong today, that would've been a mess", Margaret kind of nonchalantly thought to herself. She wasn't looking forward to the cleanup at all, and she never ever intended to have any accidents, but when they did happen it was never a big deal to her. She just saw it as another 15 minutes before she could start dinner. "Everybody piss and shit, pretty much several times a day, sometimes alittle bit ends up up in our underwear, so what, humans make mistakes, it's life". Wich was true though, all of Margaret's friends had had atleast one accident that she knew about. Christina, whom Margaret had lived together with for 5 years, had atleast had 4 accidents that she know of. 3 times Chistina had wet her bed after a drunk party, and one time she had an upset stomach while out jogging, and did a messy load in her running tights. But nothing came close the frequency she herself had full blown accidents though, wich had to be like every two three months or so. Margaret thought nothing more of it. It wasn't strange for her at all. "I guess some people piss themselves alittle more often, just like some people grow muscles faster than others, and some people even like pineapple on pizza, we're all genetically different". From her accident, her mind soon wandered off to the rediculously slow driver infront of her, and she wondered the hell this person had gotten his license. She turned on the blinker and drove passed this lame ass car. Luckily, the rest of the 10 minute drive home went on without anything noteworthy. She pulled into the driveway of the old douplex suburbian house she could afford to buy half of when she moved back here. "Home, sweet home! Best place morgage can buy!". Margaret stopped under the roofed parking spot on her side of the house, eased herself out of the car, picked up her groceries from the back and waddled inside. By now the jeans were all cold and sticky. She left the shopping just inside the door to the kitchen, and hurried stiff legged to the bathroom. The saturated denim clung to Margaret's shapely thighs, and left a glistening shine on her upper legs as the pants were pulled off on the bathroom floor, then she hung her jeans over the edge of the laundry hamper to dry, and she could put on a wash after she had prepared the dinner. Now she squatted above the toilet, pulled down her heavily loaded bikini panties just enough to flip it around and dump the load, then she stepped into the shower with her panties still around her thighs to start the procedure of cleaning herself up. .....................................................................................Thanks alot for reading!.................................................................................................................................................
  3. 210 downloads

    Heres a new little clip. I felt really horny and wet my bed just now!
    Free
  4. From the album: Dimwitrolo's Misc Work

    What could be more relaxing than a nice warm soak in the tub?
  5. Dimwitrolo

    female MiniGirls.png

    From the album: Dimwitrolo's Misc Work

    Two minigirls peeing on your computer. Yes it is your one - you just haven't seen them doing it. But I have. So I drew it. Nude version available on request
  6. Paige: My Story About How I Became A Semi Incontinent Bed Wetter Because Of Nappies. Chapter One. Hi everyone! I’m Paige, and I figured that this was probably the best place to tell my story. (Spoiler Alert: The heading pretty much sums up my story! ) First, some background. I’m female, (duh!) 27 years old, and an aspiring writer. Up until recently, I’ve never had any sort of pee fetish, but I have dealt with OAB, over-active bladder issues like forever. The OAB isn’t really too bad I suppose. It’s just sometimes, I can get a sudden urge to urinate, and I’ll need to get to a bathroom ASAP. If I don’t, there’s a good chance that I’ll wet my pants a bit, or even worse, a lot. It’s not a daily, or even weekly occurrence, but it does happen sometimes, and has done ever since I was a little girl. Speaking of “Way Back Then,” I had a few instances of wet pants growing up, more than most kids did I suppose, although as I got older, my parents and I slowly worked out what could trigger it. Basically, caffeine or sugar. If I drank too much soda or energy style drinks, it would really make me start having sudden urgency and occasional accidents. It also doesn’t help that I’ve always been a really shy girl. In junior school I wet myself in class a couple of times simply because I was too shy to put my hand up and ask. Even today, I’m very shy by nature, and enjoy my own company over others, although I’m nowhere near being that shy, emotional little wreck that I was until my mid-teens. I’m probably over analysing things, but I think my childhood accidents were a lot to blame. Let’s face it. There’s nothing more mortifying for a tween aged girl than to wet herself at school in front of her classmates. As for bed wetting back then, yeah, it happened a few times, but not too often. If I can remember correctly, I think I wore pull ups to bed till I was around five? Maybe a bit older, but I was certainly not needing them by the time I’d turned six. I did wake up to wet sheets on a handful of occasions after that, but by then we were starting to get a handle on what would trigger it, and my night time liquid intake was closely monitored. It turned out that I could drink all the water or milk that I wanted to, within reason of course, but carbonated beverages were a big no-no. Of course my daytime consumption of said beverages was frowned upon as well, but it’s almost impossible to stop a kid from partaking in the illicit stuff occasionally. Think birthday parties, family gatherings, weddings and stuff. On those occasions I’d be allowed a glass or two, but my bathroom usage would be closely monitored! But, overall, my minor bladder issue was never a super big deal. Over the years I grew used to carrying spare panties in my bag, or shorts in my school stuff, and by the time that puberty really kicked in, it was almost, ALMOST, a non-event. This has obviously changed quite a bit since then.....
  7. View File Pink Panties Bedwetting! New clip. Heres a new little clip. I felt really horny and wet my bed just now! Submitter AliceWetting Submitted 12/18/2021 Category AliceWetting  
  8. Strangers On A Train The man sat at his opulent desk, probably the only person left in the penthouse office suite that occupied the entire top floor of the modern day glass and steel behemoth that towered over the downtown financial district. The view from his CEO’s corner office windows was expansive and distracting, showcasing the multitude of lights spread out in a panoramic vista below. Even at this late hour on a Thursday night, this part of the city was still vibrantly alive and busting below. He forced his attention back to the monitor in front of him, trying to stay focused on the large scale video conference that he was in charge of. A multitude of faces were shown in their own private little boxes on his screen, mostly men, but more than a few women, and nearly all of them older than he was. The majority of them were still dressed in corporate attire, expensive suits or dresses, as most of the participants were in other parts of the country or world, each with its own time line. As the founder and CEO of Global Data And Logistics, it was somewhat ironic that he was staying later into the night than most for this weekly management hook-up, but the head office he was in had the most awkward timeframe of nearly all the worldwide branch offices. He took a sip from the large bone china mug on his desk, and suppressed a smile as the warm glow from the expensive cognac slid down his throat. Most attendees at this virtual meeting were nursing mugs of some sort, but he would’ve been extremely surprised to find that anyone else would be drinking alcohol. It was important things that they were discussing. But, for him, it was late, and he WAS the Boss after all, and as long as nobody saw him top up his mug from the bottle in the bottom draw of his desk, then it didn’t matter. After all, he would need a touch of liquid courage for what would happen in the near future. Just thinking about it was enough to make his heart beat faster, and he took another sip, forcing himself to pay attention to the last few minutes of the meeting. It wasn’t long, and he was able to wrap things up, and thank the leaders of his little global empire for their time and good work. Despite a worldwide downturn, his business was good. With the monitor safely switched off, he rose from his desk, and walked to the small sink in the corner, where he rinsed his now empty cup, and took a beer from the small fridge underneath. Drinking deeply, he gave a sigh of satisfaction as the icy cold beverage washed away the strong aftertaste of the cognac. The strong liquor had been to calm his nerves, but the beer was to serve another purpose. He removed his expensive tailored suit jacket and slacks, and hung them in a wardrobe, from where he retrieved a plain but pricey pair of blue jeans, and a long overcoat, that finished well below his knees. Looking at his reflection in the mirror on the back of the door, he was pleased to see that his dress shirt and shoes complemented the jeans and overcoat quite well. It was early spring, and the nights were still chilly, so the coat would serve its purpose, but he didn’t know what he’d do in a month or so, when it would be too warm to justify wearing it. It was something that he’d have to think about a bit more in the future. Next, he donned an old fashioned peak billed cap, pulling it down over his eyes, and a pair of glasses with plain, non-prescription lenses in them. That was all it took to make him look almost unrecognisable from the well dressed businessman that he was known as. The gentleman wasn’t famous as such, but it’s virtually impossible to be a rich CEO of a global company at such a young age, and not be at least well known in public circles. This little “disguise” meant that he could blend in with the crowd around him, which wouldn’t be huge at this time of night anyway. Switching off the office lights, he made his way to the elevator, getting out on the ground floor, and not the underground car park like he normally would. Every other day of the week, he drove himself to the office, in either his Mercedes, Range Rover, or Tesla, as he usually had appointments or meetings with clients or suppliers, but not on Thursdays. On Thursdays, he caught the train in, a habit he’d had for years. Any appointments would be held in his office, and he could have a couple of drinks during the late night teleconference and get home without falling foul of the law. Over the past two months, Thursdays had held a new attraction for him, the result of a chance encounter with a random stranger on the train. Since then, he had met this stranger every Thursday night on the way home, regardless of what train he managed to catch. It seemed almost too coincidental, but that’s all it could be. After all, he had no idea himself as to what time he’d be leaving the office. It could be anytime between 9:30pm to midnight, but every Thursday, she was there, and they ended up on the same train together. Occasionally, she wouldn’t be on the platform, but he would find her in whatever carriage he happened to get in to. Other times, she would magically appear at a later stop, but she always ended up in his carriage, sitting directly opposite him. He’d stopped trying to make sense of it, preferring to think about it as karma. It certainly couldn’t be anything planned on her behalf, like blackmail or anything, as she’d never even spoken a word to him. But oh, that smile..... The cold air bit into the man as he exited the building, tipping a nod to the night watchman who buzzed him out, and he buttoned his coat against the chill, and his bladder gave a slight twinge, reminding him that he hadn’t used his private bathroom before he left, as if he needed reminding. The beer was already filtering through him, just as he had planned for it to do. The walk to the Central Train Station was only 3 blocks, but he was starting to feel a certain heaviness in his bladder by the time he got there, and the mere sight of the public toilets that he walked past was enough to accelerate his desperation even more. He glanced nervously around the platform. She wasn’t there. This of course wasn’t unusual, but it always made him start to second guess himself, wondering if perhaps he should skip this train, and catch the next one 15 minutes later, and give her a chance to arrive. No. That was just stupid. She would be here. Either on this platform, the next one, or maybe even be on the train already, and she would find him. She always did. So he would get on the next train as soon as it arrived, as usual. Besides, his need to urinate was swiftly becoming uncomfortable, and he had a real need to just sit down, as his legs were starting to jiggle noticeably, and he was subconsciously shifting his weight from one leather clad foot to the other. A rumble could be heard in the distance, and a light appeared in the tunnel, and seconds later, the passenger train was pulling up, pushing a gust of wind in front of it. He looked around before boarding, and grinned when he saw a familiar figure emerging from the shadows behind a pillar, and the beautiful Stranger approached, stepping into the almost deserted carriage after him. She was here, just as he had known she would be. The gentleman stepped to one side, letting her squeeze past, catching a brief whiff of musk, the perfume she always wore. She made eye contact only briefly, and to anyone else watching, they wouldn’t have noticed. As always, he was intrigued as to what she would be wearing, and his heart skipped a beat as his eyes took in the light beige pantsuit she was wearing underneath her open, knee length black coat. The coat was a staple. She always wore it, and for good reason, the same reason that he himself was wearing one, but the pantsuit was something new. Every week, it was something new. He had seen her in mini skirts with thick leggings, in maxi dresses and stockings. Jeans, slacks, and one memorable night, in tight grey yoga pants. The light coloured pantsuit held just as much promise as what the yoga pants had, the knee high black leather boots adding a kinky touch to her outfit. The man felt himself stirring inside his jeans, no doubt helped along by his own bursting bladder. As was the routine, he waited for her to take a seat first, and as usual she chose an almost empty bench seat, one that ran lengthways down the train, and faced into the middle. Once she was seated, he took up a position on the opposite side, facing her. They didn’t even look at each other, just removed their phones, and busied themselves on their screens. Most of the people had disembarked at the city, and the train was now headed towards the suburbs, the rich suburbs, which didn’t lend itself towards picking up a lot of passengers. After all, most people in these areas wouldn’t catch public transport unless their lives depended on it. Those passengers that did get on, were for the most part students, or people like the Gentleman who had enjoyed a drink and didn’t want to drive. He himself was travelling to nearly the end of the line, and she always got off a few stations before then, but not always at the same one, just as she didn’t always board at the same one every time. He had no idea who she was, nor where she worked or lived, but as their relationship was so far non verbal, he couldn’t really ask. After a few stops had passed, he found himself crossing his legs. He really did need to pee quite badly now, and was hoping that the train would soon begin to empty, and it did. Soon, they were the only two people left on the long seats, and the handful of other passengers sat towards the front, in forward facing seats, where they would be much less likely to encounter a random stranger needing to sit beside them. The beautiful Stranger put her phone away, looked up at the man, and smiled. Not for the first time, he drank in her looks. She definitely had a Mediterranean background of some sort. Olive skin. Raven black shoulder length hair. Honey brown eyes deep enough to drown a giraffe in. Oh, and her figure! Large but still pert breasts. Hips that were in perfect formation to them. Legs that seemed extraordinarily long. He felt himself becoming slightly breathless, both with desire, and the knowledge of what would soon happen. At the next stop, the last of the rear seated stragglers got off, leaving just them at the back, and a small handful of people at the front, who could have been on Venus as far as the Gentleman was concerned. For now, it was just him, and the beautiful Stranger, locked together inside their own little universe. The departure of the last rear seated passenger had provided her with the signal that she needed, and in one quick motion, the lady half stood up, and pulled her coat out from underneath her gorgeous bottom, which soon sat itself back onto the seat. The Gentleman followed suit, as had been his habit of late, mimicking her gesture by removing his own coat from beneath him. Now, they made full eye contact for the first time. Her, mischievous and playful, him, nervous and excited. Not for the first time did the nagging thought cross the back of his mind: Does she know me? Is she filming me? After all, she had seen him without his disguise on more that a few occasions at first, before he had decided to join her in The Game that she played, and the possibility that he might be filmed or recorded was ever present. That would be a very bad thing indeed. But, somehow, he knew that wasn’t the case. He trusted this lady that he’d never spoken too. He didn’t understand The Game, but knew that he enjoyed it just as much as what she did. After all, it would be impossible to fake the pleasure that she derived from Playing. The train pulled away from the next station, and she fixed him in a firm gaze, as she spread her legs. The Gentleman looked on in fascination, as a small dark patch appeared on the Strangers beige pants, directly in the middle of her crotch. She squinted, and suddenly the dark spot grew rapidly, and he could see a firm trickle of liquid forcing its way through her pants, as the dark patch rapidly spread, encompassing her entire crotch, and running over the seat, where it eventually formed a mini waterfall, spilling over the seat, and falling onto the carriage floor, making a a soft splattering sound, as a puddle grew between her boots, and a small lake formed between her thighs, pooling on the seat, not being absorbed immediately into the brightly coloured fabric of the seat. Her eyes closed in a private ecstasy, and she shuddered, as the wet spot spread rapidly down the inside of her thighs, and no doubt across the taut beige fabric that covered her backside. The sight was too much for the Gentlemen’s tortured bladder, and he trembled as it let go. He felt the spreading warmth between his legs, and the relief was instantaneous, as his blue jeans darkened against his bulging crotch, and he created his own stream, that soon cascaded over the edge of his own seat, forming its own lake between his leather shoes. Now he’d started, he couldn’t stop, and his bladder completely let go, and he sighed with a mixture of relief and excitement, as his bottom grew hot and wet, while he watched his beautiful partner in crime fully soak her own pants. They locked eyes again, smiling at each other as their pent up urine dwindled to a trickling halt at last, their twin puddles moving towards each other with the motion of the train, eventually forming a large lake that encompassed the entire area between their seats. As the train started to slow on its approach to the next station, the Lady stood up, letting her coat fall, and cover her shame. She stood up, and smiled at him. For the first time ever, she spoke to him. “Same time next week, Simon?” His name wasn’t Simon, and he didn’t understand whether or not it was supposed to be a reference that he recognised or not. It meant nothing to him. “Sure Amy,” he said, plucking a random name out of thin air. “See you,” she said with a smile, apparently liking the choice of name, before buttoning her coat, and disembarking from the carriage. The Gentleman stood up, and buttoned his own coat with shaking hands, the feeling of warm, cloying wetness paramount across his bottom, his crotch, and between his legs. His cock was stiff inside the wet fabric, and it felt glorious. He moved away from the puddle on the floor, taking a more forward seat near the doors. Even if the train cameras had caught the illicit act, he was sure that his disguise would be enough to protect his identity. The next station was his, and he got up, and left the train, ready for the short walk back to his apartment building, already planning what he would wear next Thursday, when he was determined to finally initiate a conversation with The Beautiful Stranger.
  9. Me and my girlfriend have been out for a walk in the countryside and she just went in her jeans all day and evening instead of bothering to go to the toilet, so we uploaded lots of new pics on our new pornhub channel for you all to watch if you wanted! ❤ We hope you enjoy! Link: https://www.pornhub.com/users/babydavesworld/videos
  10. https://www.pornhub.com/users/babydavesworld/videos will add more videos regularly. most likely at weekends. She loves to just casually wet the bed with me, or wet her pants when we go out walking etc.
  11. I have been wanting to do a sneaky wetting in public for a while, but I am NOT interested in being seen or noticed at all, so I’ve always chickened out. Today I decided to just go for it! I was going for a run, and I know from experience that my leggings hardly show any wetness. I’ve never wet in them before, but I’ve been plenty sweaty in them, and they’re basically sweat camouflage. I even did a tiny dribble before I went out, both to reassure myself that it wouldn’t show, and to put myself in the right mood, so to speak. It was a new experience to start a run with wet fabric touching my delicate areas! Very naughty. The run itself was uneventful, but on my cool-down walk I tried to let some out. Turns out I can’t actually pee while moving, so I stopped to “stretch”. While leaning on a lamppost, I was able to relax my muscles enough to let it flow. And WHAT. A. RUSH!!! I actually spurted a bit more forcefully than I had intended and had a moment of panic when I couldn’t immediately pinch off the flow! It kept going for a couple of seconds longer than I planned. I was only going for a sneaky wet spot right at my crotch — a little tiny leak — but instead I could feel the wetness run about a third of the way down both thighs. I didn’t dare look down! There was nobody nearby, but I didn’t want to draw any attention to myself, in case it was very visible. While I was approaching my door, my neighbor waved at me from around 50 feet away, and I made like the Madagascar penguins, “just smile and wave!”, acutely aware of the wetness between my legs that I was hoping was not too visible. Heart hammering, I made it inside and was relieved to find that it was almost impossible to spot the wetness, thank God! I could barely see it myself, knowing exactly where the outline was, so it would have been impossible for anyone else to see. Holy crap, what an amazing feeling, though! I wet my pants in public (a little, at least), and got away with it! I think I’ll probably want to do that again…
  12. Anyone else into running / cycling? Nothing makes a long ride or run more interesting than some wet fun.... And I love how practical and discreet it is! Well can be I should say...
  13. Holy moly, you guys! I may have accidentally stumbled upon a pair of pants that DO. NOT. SHOW. WETNESS! Like, at all! I'm new here, and I know there have been quite a few posts from me in the past couple of weeks. While I have had this ... interest ... since I was a kid (I literally wrote stories about girls similar to me who wet themselves in secret notebooks I hid under the mattress. Internet was not a thing until I was an adult!), my interest and indulgence in omo fun ebbs and flows. I may go months without having any interest, and then suddenly, something sparks my imagination and off I go. Right now I am very much in "flow" mode (pun intended ), hence the new account and many posts, and it seems wetting my pants whenever opportunity strikes is all I can think about. And then, as suddenly as my obsession was sparked, it's like I hit my "saturation point" (again, very much pun intended ) and I never think about it again for months. Anyway... my discovery! I had changed my pants earlier today after some ... overexcitement ... at lunch time, which left my first pair of the day in need of washing, and I had put on my third pair of sweatpants in two days. These are rather ratty-looking and definitely only for lounging at home. They are made from thick, dark gray fleece that has pilled all over and is looking rather sad. I'm not even sure the fleece is intended for clothes, because it is rather clammy to wear, but I have kept these pants for use at home when my other sweatpants are in the wash, because if all I'm doing is lounge around, they ARE comfortable. Hence my wearing them this afternoon. I had the rare opportunity of having the house to myself again for a while, and could not resist a little wet fun before hopping in the shower. In my experiments earlier today (see my previous post), I experienced something that felt almost like a mini-peegasm, and let's just say I was very curious to see if I could replicate the sensation. I didn't quite achieve that, but my leaks and spurts did soak my underwear beyond capacity and I could feel the pee run down my legs. It was such a naughty sensation, so I relaxed and emptied my bladder completely. Ah! Bliss! I was standing in the shower and there were puddles on the floor where the pee had come out at the bottom cuffs of my pants. I could feel wetness ALL the way up my front and back, as well as all the way down the insides of both my legs. And my pants are slim-fitting, almost like leggings. But on my pants? NOTHING! Nada. It seems whatever cheap polyester my pants are made from, does not absorb moisture at all. I hung out in my wet pants for a bit (no sitting down! ) and gulped down a large glass of water, just so I could re-wet them and actually see what was going on. Not long after, I once again stood in the shower and gushed pee into my pants and down my legs. Nothing! What!?! I took them off and inspected them closely under bright lights, and could barely make out the outline of a slightly less dry area right at my crotch, but if I had been wearing them in public and it was, say, less than full-on sunshine, it would be IMPOSSIBLE to see wetness, unless you were close enough to see it dripping out my cuffs and onto the grass. I have never wet in these pants before, but if they make it out of the wash without smelling like pee (it's anyone's guess with this polyester) I'm definitely taking them out for a spin in public!
  14. I was naughty today! I am now fresh out of the shower with a load of laundry going, so I thought I would tell you about a fun game I sometimes play with myself. Here's the thing: I like desperation as a concept, but in reality, I have really good control, and it just takes too long for me to get truly desperate. When I try to do holds, I get frustrated at the pain and discomfort, lose interest and just wet myself to get it over with... Also, it's the wetting itself that most interests me, so desperation does not necessarily have to factor into it. I have found, however, that I can simulate desperation whenever I'm in the mood for some naughty wet fun. A game I often play with myself is this: I stand with my feet hip-width apart and I do not permit myself to cross my legs or use my hand to help me hold. I then relax my muscles enough that my pee descends my urethra and sits right at the opening. The outer muscles are all that's keeping it inside. This generates a sense of urgency that is quite strong, even if I don't really have to go all that much. Sometimes I tighten my muscles again and "pull" the pee back inside, and sometimes, like if I'm about to hop in the shower, I let myself dribble a tiny bit into my underwear. This feels really naughty and is very arousing, but I don't have to deal with any clean-up afterwards. Win-win! However, if I'm in the mood for some wet fun, I have found a way to escalate this game. I drink enough fluids to make my bladder pleasantly full. There is a sweet spot that I like to get to, where I definitely need to pee, and it is quite urgent, but I'm not yet desperate. If I play my little relaxing-my-muscles game in this state, the sense of urgency I am able to generate is INTENSE! I like to keep it that way for a while, before I relax a tiiiiny bit more and let a little dribble out. Because I really do need to pee at this point, I find it much harder to actually pinch off the flow, and sometimes the slow trickle keeps going for a couple of seconds before I'm able to stop it. And even if I set myself up for it, this "involuntary" leaking really turns me on. If I have to go quite badly, like I did today, my holding muscles sometimes do a sort of spasm when I tighten them to stop the flow, which leads to a strong second-long gush of pee into my pants before I'm able to stop myself. This sensation is the closest I've ever gotten to uncontrollable wetting as an adult, and it never fails to stir my loins. Today I took it up a notch. I stood in front of a full-length mirror, repeated the "relaxing" process three times, with a satisfying gush every time. I was wearing gray, relatively slim joggers, and I was surprised at how much pee I could actually release into my pants before it was immediately visible. There was a sizeable wet spot at my crotch, but as long as I kept my thighs together, it would not have been noticeable to casual passers by. I then continued with another favorite of mine: the slow release. Instead of relaxing my muscles completely and flooding my pants, I kept releasing my pee in controlled, slow spurts. This allows the fabric of my pants to soak up each spurt in turn, leading to a uniform wet spot slowly creeping outward and down my legs. This both limits the subsequent clean-up (which I detest) AND prolongs the sensation of wetting, as I get to re-experience releasing my pee into my pants again, and again, and again. After about five minutes of this, I had released a full bladder's worth of pee into my pants without a single drop spilled on the floor. The dark wet spot was a uniform semi-circular shape, extending down to around mid-calf, standing out starkly against the light gray of the dry parts of my joggers. Sadly, no pictures or video, as I was too busy enjoying myself.
  15. Dimwitrolo

    female Justgoing

    From the album: Dimwitrolo's Misc Work

    Toilets are hard and cold, but denim shorts are warm and soft. These ones are particularly warm - quite damp, too Nude version available on request!
  16. From the album: Dimwitrolo's Misc Work

    You know those mornings when you don't want to get out of bed, but you really need to pee? There's a simple solution to your problem. Alt versions available on request (Nude, Topless, Bottomless)
  17. Dimwitrolo

    female Watersports

    From the album: Dimwitrolo's Misc Work

    Water-sports. Geddit? The vague grey dong under her feet is meant to be a surfboard
  18. From the album: Requests & extras

    As a consolation prize for my pokemon battling contest (Link displayed here:https://www.omorashi.org/profile/48173-dimwitrolo/?status=20456&type=status) Blooper made this request. Any future prizes will be of their pokemon character however
  19. Dimwitrolo

    female 3PanelWetting

    From the album: Dimwitrolo's Misc Work

    I mean she did say yes... Colouring takes a lot of time, and I am a lazy man. Any thoughts or feedback is very much appreciated!
  20. Dimwitrolo

    Sombra

    From the album: Rolo: Sketches

    Requested sketch of Sombra, letting go in her Tulum suit, knee-deep in water
  21. Dimwitrolo

    Riley

    From the album: Dimwitrolo's Misc Work

    Another late night for Riley. It's four in the morning, and the only things keeping Riley awake are the bottles of energy drinks she's been downing for the past few hours. Of course, these drinks have to go somewhere, and over the past two hours in particular, Riley's really been feeling them as they make their way into her bladder. She's been squirming in her seat for a good while, ignoring the growing urge to go. There's no time for that - her team's relying on her. She can't just pause the game - not in a live match. Especially a competitive game like this. She sits, wriggling in her bean-bag chair, ignoring her sore bladder. One more push and her team is through, and then they just have to secure the next point. And the one after that. An urgent wave runs over Riley. She's not going to have the strength to hold it all back until her team wins unless they can sweep their way through, and with the enemy team mounting a counter, she very much doubts this. Riley picks up a bottle from nearby and takes another quick drink as she waits for her character to respond. She can really feel each mouthful hit her bladder. She squeezes her legs together, tighter and tighter, in a vain effort to hold back. Her full bladder is getting harder and harder to ignore. It's beginning to take her attention away from the game. She's bouncing one leg up and down. She knows she can't last the whole game. So...I suppose that means there's no point in even trying, right? I mean...if she's not going to make it anyway...why bother trying? So she stops trying. Riley leans back in her bean bag and relaxes with a sigh. Her bladder doesn't quite believe her at first, hesitating for a second, before a weak spurt of warm pee splashes between her thighs. The sudden relief makes Riley grin. A weak stream begins to trickle out and down her backside, settling in her track pants between her cheeks. This weak stream picks up strength quickly though, and before long there's a muffled hiss from below as Riley sits deliberately wetting herself. It soaks through her pants quickly, flooding warmth down her backside as pee pools beneath her. She leans forward slightly making her pants squish, and pee begins to pour down the front of her chair and onto the carpet below. The pool she's sat in is pushed forward, and it flows down the backs of her calves in a warm wave landing at her feet. The carpet goes soft and warm beneath her heels. Riley smirks as the relief floods over her, leaning back again and letting the hot puddle beneath her swill up against her lower back, soaking into her shirt. The soft hiss and trickle of liquid splattering onto the carpet fills the room as fresh urine fills the fabric of her seat. Riley doesn't even put effort into it as she relieves herself where she sits. Simply relaxing is enough for it all to pour out, too lazy to even put in the effort to wet herself properly. The hissing dies down after a while, and the stream draws to a close. Heat stops flowing down Riley's backside, the dripping slows to a halt. And Riley's finished wetting herself. Her pants begin to cool around her calves, and the warm feeling of relief fades with it. But Riley's team wins the game. So it was worth it, right? Riley presses her legs together, making a loud squish. It presses some droplets out of the fabric. She lets her hands fall into her warm lap. She's soaked these pants. Her shirt and her hoodie are damp by her back. And the bean bag is soaked through. Well, not like this is the first time anyway. And it won't be the last. Riley sits back and looks at the screen. Her pants are getting cooler now, and the puddle by her feet is getting cold. She should get changed. Maybe just one more round first...
  22. Dimwitrolo

    female Serena!

    From the album: Dimwitrolo's Misc Work

    A cheeky compilation of Serena being cheeky. And wet. As usual, nude versions are on Patreon! But who needs those when you have the wet versions?
  23. From the album: Dimwitrolo's Misc Work

    Yarr harr fiddle dee-dee Do what you want 'cause a pirate is free That means you don't need to undress to pee You are a pirate!
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