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  1. Soooo...how's everyone's pandemic going? I genuinely hope you're all well and safe. I'm fine, even though I've been terrible about writing. Clearly not one of those people who uses isolation to be creative! But here's a story I threw together. I love YA novels, so I tried to make this reflect that style - very *angsty* Thanks for reading! *** “El, what time do you want to leave? Or do you just want to corral us whenever you’re ready?” Ellie glanced at the dashboard clock. It wasn’t yet 8 PM – fairly early for arriving at a college party. She pursed her lips, thinking. “Maybe 1:30 at the latest? I have to work tomorrow, but not too early.” “Your wish is our command, Miss Daisy!” cried Jamie, the second of the two boys in the backseat. Ellie had picked up he and his roommate Gael on her way to the frat party on the edge of town. “Miss…” Gael stared at his roommate in confusion, but was interrupted by a deep voice from the front seat. “Miss Daisy was the passenger, dumbass.” Jamie laughed easily – it was the end of the semester, and the mood was light – but Ellie shot a sideways glare at her third passenger. As if he sensed Ellie’s ire, Rider Pierce broke into a dazzling grin. “The driver was Morgan Freeman’s character,” he continued, as if his initial statement hadn’t been stark and humorless, “but no one ever remembers the driver’s name!” Jamie grinned. “Dude, no one our age has even seen that movie!” “Axiom still stands,” Rider said confidently, taking a sip out of his flask. “Name one famous movie about a chauffeur where you remember the driver’s name.” Gael looked skeptical. “Didn’t that movie with Viggo Mortenson driving Mahershala Ali win an Oscar?” “So did Driving Miss Daisy,” countered Rider, “and you still didn’t tell me the character’s name.” Ellie pulled onto the grass of the expansive frat house lawn, adding to the already-long line of parked cars. “Happy Hogan.” Rider looked amused but unsurprised, and, not for the first time, Ellie was irritated at his ability to be so effortlessly charming. “Dubious,” Rider proclaimed. “Happy was obviously promoted to Tony’s head of security and was in a half-dozen movies. Familiarity is a given.” “So Joseph from Princess Diaries is out, too?” Ellie shot back. “Not unless you want me to let you win.” Rider gave her another smile that, to another girl, would have been disarming. Ellie was both too experienced and too annoyed for it to work on her. Unaware of Ellie’s irritation or unwilling to stick around any longer, Gael and Jamie were already heading up the driveway. “Just come get us if you’re ready to leave before 1:30,” Jamie called over his shoulder. “You don’t have to admit defeat.” Rider smirked and took another swig from his flask. “I’m secure enough in my own rightness to survive without your validation.” “Too bad that security doesn’t extend to surviving in a given situation without booze.” If Rider was as stunned as Ellie by her own vehemence, he didn’t show it. “Drinking at a frat party,” he gushed dramatically. “Whoever heard of such a thing? What a hopeless delinquent am I!” “As if you only get drunk at parties,” Ellie snapped. Walking up a frat house driveway wasn’t the place for this conversation, but Rider’s grating nonchalance smashed through Ellie’s hesitance. “You haven’t been willingly sober this whole semester.” This accusation at least earned Ellie a raised eyebrow. “Didn’t know you were such a prohibitionist, Els.” His tone was light, but Ellie knew him well enough to hear a slight tension in his voice. “But as I am a fully legal adult, I’m really not sure why you’re so worried about me.” “You can drink yourself stupid, for all I care.” The words tumbled out of Ellie’s mouth. “I just don’t want you dragging my brother down with you.” Rider stopped abruptly and turned to face Ellie. His eyes glittered like shards of ice, sharp and hard, in his now-stony face. “If literally anyone other than Brett’s sister had said that, I’d’ve punched them.” Ellie didn’t twitch. It’s not that she didn’t believe Rider, but that she’d known him almost her entire life. And in that time, she’d never once back down from a fight with him. “Where’s the lie?” she asked coolly. “You drink yourself into oblivion on a daily basis, and you don’t think your roommate and best friend is gonna be affected?” Rider’s chest swelled with a deep inhale. “Call me a drunk all you want, but you don’t get to imply that I’d hurt your brother. Ever.” Ellie glared back, but at that moment, another car pulled in, blaring music. It was enough to crack the tension and remind them both that they were standing in the middle of a driveway, presumably on their way to enjoy the last party before spring break. As usual, Rider recovered first. He tipped back his flask, finishing whatever he had inside. “You know how much I enjoy our verbal skirmishes, Ellearia, but I promised Jesse a round of beer pong.” He bounced his eyebrows for flourish and turned away. In an instant, Ellie’s flaming indignation fizzled into resignation. What had she been thinking? It’s not like Rider didn’t know about her concerns. And it’s not like she’d made any headway before. “Els!” Straightening her shoulders as if to physically shed the failed argument, Ellie pivoted toward the sound of her name. Yung Min, a girl from her ultimate team, was climbing out of the car that had just parked. Ellie pasted on a smile and joined the group, heading up to the house. A lifelong connoisseur of people-watching, Ellie found that pre-spring break parties were second only to end-of-year parties in the college calendar for sheer joy. Everyone was celebrating getting through midterms or excited for impending beach vacations, lending a distinct air of glee to the gathering. The frat house was huge, and Ellie was sure there were over 300 people in attendance. She wandered through the house, nabbing a soda and greeting friends – both hers and her brother’s. *** Brett, Ellie’s one-year-older brother, was in D.C. for a grad school interview, but it wasn’t wholly unusual for Ellie to be spending time with Rider on her own. Brett and Rider had met in preschool and had been best friends ever since. By virtue of Ellie’s own close relationship with Brett, Rider had become practically a second brother. She certainly fought with Rider more than she did with Brett – Brett was easygoing and nonconfrontational by nature – but she never doubted their loyalty to each other. Despite their closeness, Ellie hadn’t really planned on attending the same university as her brother, but it had the one of the best pre-law programs in the country, so she swallowed the inevitable “little sister tagging along” stereotype. Other than the obvious benefits of sharing rides home for break, Ellie found she liked being close to Brett and Rider. It gave her a built-in but not exclusive social group, and it had been an easy choice to move off-campus to the same apartment complex. Currently, Ellie and her roommate lived across the hall from Brett and Rider. Ellie loved getting to watch her brother and his best friend grow into young men. She relished the rare privilege of having such close relationships for such a long time. But her junior year had taken a turn. It’s not that Rider (or any of them, to be honest) had been a teetotaler before turning 21, but his drinking had skyrocketed his senior year. It wasn’t just drinking more heavily at parties, it was the near-constant presence and use of his flask, bottles of beer, and even water bottles that definitely didn’t contain water in class. When asked – because obviously neither Brett nor Ellie were gonna let such a behavioral change pass without comment – Rider would laugh, insisting that he was fine, that he just wanted to enjoy his senior year. He was comparatively careful; he didn’t make a fool of himself, and he certainly never drove drunk. In fact, most people who interacted with Rider had no idea that he’d rarely been fully sober since summer. The whole situation baffled Ellie. She’d known Rider practically her whole life, and she didn’t believe him for a second when he claimed that his drinking was nothing more than a harmless joyride through his last year of college. But he wasn’t deviating from his party line, and Ellie had grown increasingly frustrated with feeling like she barely knew him anymore. *** A burst of laughter shook Ellie from her thoughts, and she pulled out her phone to check the time. With a slight cringe, she realized that she’d been ruminating for nearly a half hour, barely paying attention to her friends. She was standing in a cluster on the back patio with a few of her ultimate teammates. There were two pong tables set up, and at least two cornhole sets within view. There was a roar from one of the pong tables, and Ellie glanced over to see Rider with his arms raised in victory. She watched as he grabbed a full Solo cup and downed it in one. The crowd cheered in approval. Ellie was still staring when Rider slammed the cup down on the table and looked up. He caught her eye and paused, a flicker disrupting the triumphant look on his face. It was so quick, Ellie thought she must have imagined it though, because by the time she blinked, Rider had broken eye contact and was seemingly searching for a refill. Repeatedly irritated with herself, Ellie decided she needed more deliberate distraction. The Alpha Rho parties were renowned for their variety of activities, so she knew if she searched the house, she’d find something distracting. It took a few minutes, but she found a boisterous room of board games upstairs, and she quickly joined a burgeoning round of Settlers of Catan. The plan worked, and the next few hours flew by. Ellie enjoyed the strategic competition, and there was a convenient cooler in the room to replenish her soda. After a couple of rounds of Catan, a short-rules game of Trivial Pursuit, and a side-splitting session of Cards Against Humanity, Ellie found herself yawning. She checked her phone and saw that it was after 1 AM. Grinning at how much she’d enjoyed herself, Ellie stretched her arms wide and pushed herself to her feet. Swallowing the last of her latest drink, she bid goodbye to her fellow gamers and started to search for her passengers. Gael was easy enough to find on the dance floor, and he led her to Jamie in the kitchen, deep in some discussion about the trade deadline. Neither of them seemed upset by leaving – they were both too intoxicated to drive and were grateful for the free ride home. Finding Rider didn’t take too much longer, given the still-crowded party. He was lounging in a chair on the patio, loosely holding a half-empty bottle. His eyes were noticeably bleary when he looked up, but he smiled easily. “My coachwoman awaits!” he announced to the group. “Looks like my time here is up.” Ellie considered rolling her eyes, but opted for benevolence instead. “Just sharing the facts, my liege,” she said silkily. “I’m leaving now. You’re welcome to take an Uber or something.” “Never,” Rider proclaimed dramatically, pushing himself to his feet. “Your wish is my command, good lady. Just let me…” He trailed off and raised his bottle to his lips, finishing the contents in seconds. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, gave an exaggerated bow to the other partygoers, stumbling slightly. This time, Ellie did roll her eyes, heading back through the house. She didn’t bother slowing down to stay in step with Gael and Jamie. Breathing deeply, she tried to tamp down the rising rage, disappointment, and fear. Seeing Rider so obviously drunk, even though she knew he drank almost constantly, brought back every ounce of ire she’d felt when they arrived. She was sick of Rider’s drinking, and she was sick of not being able to help. She heard quick footsteps behind her, but didn’t turn as Rider jogged to her side and draped his arm over her shoulder. “El-bell, don’t-“ “Stop it,” Ellie hissed, shaking his arm off. “Don’t say anything. You sound gross, slurring your words like that.” Rider drew back, and for a second, he almost looked hurt, but that could’ve just been his face transitioning from a grin to a sneer. “Easy there, Carrie Nation. You don’t want to make a scene.” “Right, like I’m the one looking like an idiot here. Ellie knew she was being mean. She knew it was futile, and she knew it was fair to Gael and Jamie, who were both quiet as they all reached her car. Ellie didn’t say anything else as she walked around to the driver’s side. She unlocked the doors, miles more tired than she’d been ten minutes ago, but just as she sat down, she heard a yelp from Gael. “I don’t have my phone!” He was still standing next to the car, patting his pockets. “Can I run back inside and look for it? I think I know where it is!” Ellie nodded and tried to smile. “Of course. We’ll just wait here.” Gael practically sprinted back toward the house, and Ellie smiled for real at his consideration. Mildly placated, she turned on the radio to cover the would-be awkward silence. Playing along – or just totally unconcerned – Rider asked Jamie his plans for spring break. Ellie could tell he was making an effort not to slur his speech as much, and she was both impressed and disgusted at how well he could play…well, if not sober, then at least not wasted. Naturally gregarious, Rider kept the conversation flowing easily for ten minutes until Gael returned. “Sorry!” Gael panted, sliding into the car. “I thought I’d left it on a window sill by the dance floor, but someone had already moved it to the lost and found, did you know they eve have an official ‘party lost and found’, this place is great!” Ellie had the car in reverse before Gael finished rambling. He and Jamie lived fairly close to the frat house, but she and Rider lived on the other side of town. It wasn’t a huge town, of course, but she was already dreading the 15 minutes she’d have to spend in the car alone with Rider. Gael’s praise set off enough of a discussion of the merits of Alpha parties to fill the brief drive to the first apartment. Ellie pulled up to the boys’ building, and both Jamie and Gael thanked her profusely, wishing them both a wonderful and relaxing spring break. Practically before the back doors even shut, Rider had pulled out his flask. “Christ,” Ellie muttered. “You’re at the point where you can’t go 15 minutes without having a drink?” “Maybe I need a psychoactive substance to get through a ride with you,” Rider shot back, but his voice no longer held any light or teasing tone. “Oh, yeah, a car ride across town with your best friend’s sister, a 50-minute class, watching a college basketball game…your life is just filled with so many difficult events that require alcoholic mollification!” Ellie was baiting him, and she wasn’t at all surprised when he refused to rise to her goading. “Leave it alone, Ellie,” Rider growled and shifted, as if he was trying to move as far away from her as possible. “My body, my choice, right?” Ellie huffed, but didn’t respond. Technically, Rider’s argument was currently correct – he wasn’t hurting anyone else with his drinking. He wasn’t violent, he wasn’t getting arrested, he wasn’t behind on his payments or anything. They sat without speaking for several minutes, but as Ellie pulled onto Main Street, her patience evaporated once more. “No, we’re doing this,” she demanded. “I’ve known you my whole damn life, and you know I’ve never wanted to control you or some bullshit like that.” She glanced over at Rider, but he only shifted again, deliberately looking away from her. “This isn’t…God, Rider, I don’t care if you want to ‘enjoy your senior year’ or whatever, but you’re literally…like, this is alcoholism! Like, you’re entirely dependent on alcohol, and that’s not OK!” She looked over again, and though Rider’s posture definitely signaled discomfort, he still didn’t say anything. “God damnit, Rider.” Ellie squeezed the steering wheel, knuckles white with frustration. “Why don’t you care? How do you not see how unhealthy this is?” Still nothing. Ellie’s voice practically squeaked with vexation. “Rider! I mean it! How-“ “Let me out.” Rider’s voice was low, but absolutely serious, and Ellie had to fight to keep her eyes on the road rather than staring at him incredulously. “What?” “Let me out of the car, Ellie.” Rider was angry, urgent, and Ellie nearly screamed. “Are you out of your mind? We’re in the middle of Main Street! I can’t just pull up to the sidewalk, and I’m not gonna let you-“ But apparently, a stop sign was more than enough for Rider, because he’d unbuckled his seatbelt and leapt from the car as soon as Ellie slowed down. “Rider!” she shrieked, staring after him, then looking around frantically to see where she could pull over. It was almost 1:30 in the morning, and really, no one else was around, so she made a quick right and pulled into the empty bank parking lot, ranting before she even put the car in park. “What the actual fuck, Rider? You can’t just jump out of a moving car because you don’t like the conversation, you dumb, selfish-“ Ellie cut herself off again as she rounded the corner and saw Rider standing stock-still in the middle of the sidewalk, an obvious patch of darkness spreading down the front of his pants. “What are you…” Ellie’s rant energy forced the words out of her mouth before she could stop them, even though she knew exactly what was happening. The old-fashioned street lamps were dim, but more than illuminated the wetness. After a few seconds, a trickling sound pattered on the quiet street. The sound seemed to go on for far too long, amplified by the otherwise complete silence. Rider stood bent slightly at the waist, as if he’d been punched in the stomach. Ellie didn’t know how long they both stood there, her staring at him and him staring at the ground, before she finally spoke. “Why didn’t you say something?” “I did say something,” he mumbled. “I told you to let me out.” “In the middle of an argument!” Ellie exclaimed. “You didn’t say you had to pee!” Rider twitched. “Sorry I didn’t broadcast my every thought. Didn’t feel like giving you more ammo for your anti-alcohol crusade.” The illogic of that statement didn’t need a response, so Ellie just stared at him, perplexed as to how she’d gone from enjoying Cards Against Humanity an hour ago to standing in the middle of downtown, fighting with a 22-year-old man who had just wet himself on the sidewalk. “I’ll walk home.” Such a ridiculous claim was enough to jar Ellie from her dismay. “Cool. I’m coming with you.” Ellie expected at least irritation in response to her answer, but when Rider met her gaze, he just looked tired. “Els, don’t be stup-“ “You know what would be stupid?” Ellie interrupted. “Letting my brother’s best friend, who is quantifiably and admittedly drunk, walk two and a half miles home after midnight.” She stopped herself from adding “in wet pants.” “And what do you care?” Rider snarled, his eyes flashing. “It’s not like there’s anyone around for me to drag down with me.” Ellie flinched at his sudden vehemence, but then clenched her jaw. “For fuck’s sake, Rider, don’t be petulant,” she snapped. “You know I didn’t mean that, but I’ll say it for you anyway. Of course I fucking care about you. I care about your drinking because you’re my brother’s best friend and you’re like a fucking brother to me, and I’m so indescribably sick of watching you hurt yourself!” “I’m not hurting myself,” Rider grumbled. “Right, sure,” Ellie scoffed. “There’s totally nothing wrong with pissing yourself in the middle of Main Street. You’re totally fine with that.” “It doesn’t hurt,” Rider said, but his near-whining voice did nothing to bolster his claim. Ellie raised her eyebrows. “Might not now, but it will if you walk home. That’ll chafe like a bitch after 2 blocks.” Rider didn’t say anything right away, but he also didn’t immediately start walking away, which Ellie took as a promising sign. “Come on, man,” she said in a slightly gentler tone. “It’s a ten-minute drive.” There was another pause, and Rider looked down. “I’m not getting in your car like this.” “Ri, she’s a 2003 Camry. She’s seen worse,” Ellie insisted wryly. “You know she’s seen worse.” Ellie could see Rider’s chest rise and fall as he seemed to consider his options. “Look, I’m sure I’ve got some old grocery bags or an Amazon box or something that you can sit on.” She watched Rider’s eyebrows draw in, a sure-fire signal of his stubbornness, but his reply was quiet. “Fine.” Internally, she nearly melted with relief, but physically, Ellie just nodded and turned back to the car, letting Rider follow her. True to her word, she reached in the backseat and pulled some random plastic bags from the floor to put in the passenger seat. Rider dipped his head as he sat down, his shoulders visibly tense. Ellie silently thanked God that the radio was still on when she started the car, because she knew there would be no more talking. The rest of the drive passed quickly, and their apartment building was quiet when they got back. Rider walked slightly ahead of Ellie up the stairs, then paused at his door. “You’re gonna tell Brett?” He wasn’t facing her, but he hadn’t opened the door. “Yes.” Ellie saw no point in lying. Rider just nodded, and Ellie saw a flash of the boy she grew up with, the one who would joke around in class, but never argue when given detention. Rider, more than anyone, had taught Ellie to own up to her mistakes and accept the consequences. “Do you want me to clean your car?” Rider stayed half-facing his own door, but at least he wasn’t snapping anymore. “It’s fine.” Ellie shrugged. “I mean, you can Febreze it if you really want to, but it’s really fine.” Rider nodded again. He opened the door and flipped on the light. Ellie stared, unsure of what to do next. “You’ll…” she said suddenly, before he could close the door. “You’ll get Brett from the airport tomorrow? Because I’ll be at work.” This time, Rider turned around, the corner of his mouth lifted into the barest of smiles. “I know,” he promised. “I’ve got his flight information.” Feeling oddly relieved, Ellie opened her own door. “OK. Just checking. Night.” Rider looked at her tenderly as he closed the door. “Night, Els.”
  2. I've become really obsessed with wearing and wetting a diaper and I want to talk with like minded people. No AB/ageplayers please! Thank you. I can't act on these desires SUPER often but I can today for sure (I'm currently padded). PM me with information about yourself if you're interested! I'm 21/F from USA, I enjoy being padded in a non-sexual way (comforting, not a turn-on)
  3. What were your parents or friends reaction when they found out you were a DL or ABDL. What did they do? Did they accept it or condemn it? Speaking of my experience, when I was 13 years old. I told my mother first believing she would help me because we had a good relationship. She was ok, but refused to help or accept it. Word came to my father, and he grabbed me by the neck and pushed me against the wall(he was in law enforcement and says "he's seen this stuff") and interrogated and yelled at me. I got older and my youth pastor found out and didn't keep it a secret and had a meeting with his wife and him about me in the room. She compared it to cancer and how it needs to be removed and said I was a pervert. Before then, I told trust worthy friends and they accepted it. Pretty much throughout my life. People condemned me for it. According to articles for parents and their children about that they are supposed to accept it and they should help because u wouldn't want make your child feel like a freak. Well in my experience, my parents did the opposite and shoved my self-esteem down my throat. Now, I'm older and I do my things and they can't say anything to me. So what about you? What's your experience or anyone could relate?
  4. I've noticed that a lot of people on here, and on fetish sites in general, tend to be paranoid about being identified as pee enthusiast by someone in their real life. While I used to be, I'm not anymore. I'm not ashamed of any part of what makes me, and that includes my fetishes. I'm proud of what I've created and shared, here and elsewhere over the years. And, I did get busted out as naughty_lucy420 by an old high school friend, but it was funny and amusing for me...I found out through a mutual friend that he was into wetting, so he'd probably been watching my vids for years, haha. Thoughts, anyone? Are you paranoid about being identified, or are you cool with it? Why? Ever happen to you?
  5. Sorry about putting this in the wrong forum; I screwed up! Wayyyyyy back in high school, our favorite hangout spot was down by Lake Michigan, in a county park. We went there as often as we could, even after hours to smoke weed, tell jokes, collect interesting rocks, whatever. The park, however, did not have a restroom. Usually not a problem, but if the police happened by, as they did one cold late-autumn night, problems could arise, as they did for me and one of my friends. A group of us were down on the beach near park closing hours one night. I'd noticed that one of them, Crotchhugger (we called him that because he wore skintight jeans in an era when everyone wore the baggiest jeans they could find), was starting to cross his legs like a girl every time he took a hit off the bowl. Good old Crotchhugger never wanted to speak up and say he needed to pee; instead he'd hold it until someone else brought up the fact that they needed to go, and casually go with them. He seemed kind of uptight about peeing outside, too, or having other people in the bathroom with him. Since I wasn't into him, I never really asked him about it. I actually have another really good tale about Crotchhugger being desperate as hell, but I'll stick with this one, since it involves my own desperation, too... Unlike Crotchhugger, I typically spoke up right away when I had to pee, and that night was no different. I excused myself and headed towards the woods. Crotchhugger, of course, came hurrying to catch up to me. I stopped at the edge of the woods and began undoing my pants. He freaked out a little. "Not here!" I tried to tell him he didn't have to pee right there, but he almost dragged me up the path. He was walking fast, his legs really tight. Finally, I told him that I was going to pee, he could do whatever he wanted, but I was peeing. I undid my pants a second time, and was just about to lower them when I saw the beam of a flashlight on one of the other trails up ahead. Since the trees had all lost their leaves, there was no cover. "Cops!" Crotchhugger whispered, and we hurried on up our trail, relief denied. We didn't have any choice but to head to the car and wait for our friends. In the light of the parking lot, I could see Crotchhugger's desperation. It didn't help my own at all. He was flushed, sweating, and pacing back and forth. I started my car; I could hold on better in the warmth. I sat down in the driver's seat and held myself, literally, hoping my friends would return soon, so we could get out of here and somewhere I could pee. Suddenly, I saw Crotchhugger dash towards the woods. He made it just to the edge before he started peeing. Then, my friends were coming from the other direction, in a hurry. And, I was really at my limits. Everyone got in the car and told me to hurry up and drive. I said that I couldn't; I had to pee too bad. They told me I had to hold it, because the cops were around. I was bouncing in my seat and almost in tears from the predicament, and my friends were urging me to drive to a gas station, but of course I wasn't going to make it there. I just told them there was no way, and got out of the car. Using my open door, and the side of my car to screen my naked butt, I did a massive power piss beside my front tire, all over my JNCOs, which I'd forgotten to lift in my panic...if I had a dollar for every time I pissed on the baggy legs of my JNCOs, I'd be rich, for real. I was too scared to pee for long, just had to take some of the pressure off so I could drive. I managed to get to a quiet street, where I sat down on a curb and took a nice, relieving pee in the gutter.
  6. Well I guess this is multiple topics so I put it here. First I am A friend With Benefits and I got my friend to pee Her panties for me. any one Else have friends with benefits like this?
  7. Wayyyyyy back in high school, our favorite hangout spot was down by Lake Michigan, in a county park. We went there as often as we could, even after hours to smoke weed, tell jokes, collect interesting rocks, whatever. The park, however, did not have a restroom. Usually not a problem, but if the police happened by, as they did one cold late-autumn night, problems could arise, as they did for me and one of my friends. A group of us were down on the beach near park closing hours one night. I'd noticed that one of them, Crotchhugger (we called him that because he wore skintight jeans in an era when everyone wore the baggiest jeans they could find), was starting to cross his legs like a girl every time he took a hit off the bowl. Good old Crotchhugger never wanted to speak up and say he needed to pee; instead he'd hold it until someone else brought up the fact that they needed to go, and casually go with them. He seemed kind of uptight about peeing outside, too, or having other people in the bathroom with him. Since I wasn't into him, I never really asked him about it. I actually have another really good tale about Crotchhugger being desperate as hell, but I'll stick with this one, since it involves my own desperation, too... Unlike Crotchhugger, I typically spoke up right away when I had to pee, and that night was no different. I excused myself and headed towards the woods. Crotchhugger, of course, came hurrying to catch up to me. I stopped at the edge of the woods and began undoing my pants. He freaked out a little. "Not here!" I tried to tell him he didn't have to pee right there, but he almost dragged me up the path. He was walking fast, his legs really tight. Finally, I told him that I was going to pee, he could do whatever he wanted, but I was peeing. I undid my pants a second time, and was just about to lower them when I saw the beam of a flashlight on one of the other trails up ahead. Since the trees had all lost their leaves, there was no cover. "Cops!" Crotchhugger whispered, and we hurried on up our trail, relief denied. We didn't have any choice but to head to the car and wait for our friends. In the light of the parking lot, I could see Crotchhugger's desperation. It didn't help my own at all. He was flushed, sweating, and pacing back and forth. I started my car; I could hold on better in the warmth. I sat down in the driver's seat and held myself, literally, hoping my friends would return soon, so we could get out of here and somewhere I could pee. Suddenly, I saw Crotchhugger dash towards the woods. He made it just to the edge before he started peeing. Then, my friends were coming from the other direction, in a hurry. And, I was really at my limits. Everyone got in the car and told me to hurry up and drive. I said that I couldn't; I had to pee too bad. They told me I had to hold it, because the cops were around. I was bouncing in my seat and almost in tears from the predicament, and my friends were urging me to drive to a gas station, but of course I wasn't going to make it there. I just told them there was no way, and got out of the car. Using my open door, and the side of my car to screen my naked butt, I did a massive power piss beside my front tire, all over my JNCOs, which I'd forgotten to lift in my panic...if I had a dollar for every time I pissed on the baggy legs of my JNCOs, I'd be rich, for real. I was too scared to pee for long, just had to take some of the pressure off so I could drive. I managed to get to a quiet street, where I sat down on a curb and took a nice, relieving pee in the gutter.
  8. Hello everyone! So, I've met many awesome people on here, a few I talk to frequently on and off the site and have made some good friendships, but if you follow my stories you know that user homeanddry and I talk often about everything, with our mutual interest in omo being great but not a huge part of our friendship. This grew to the point where we met up, and so we did. I was nervous and left early for my train to meet him in the station, I would have left at 9:45am to meet him off the 10:50 ish train, then we just walked and talked for ages. It was rainy and windy and I kept feeling a slight need to pee but I wanted to try and last a while! He said he had 5 cups and showed no signs of complaining. However at about 12ish I started complaining outloud about my need and he admitted it too. He didn't show many outward signs but I could hear it in his voice. It was crazy to be in real life with someone talking about omo but it was amazing at the same time. By 1 we were both pretty desperate and made our way to get something to eat. The place was packed and we decided to head out but homeanddry suggested we use the bathrooms there first. I was pretty thankful for that! As we were heading out some seats became free and we stayed their chatting for ages and drinking sugary beverages. This became problematic for me quite quickly and I was fidgeting a lot bouncing my legs squeezing my hands between my thighs under the table and stuff, not sure he noticed really, but I was also vocal about it from time to time. By 3pm we were going to order and I told him to be quick because I wasn't sure I could hold on very long. He went up to order and I went on my phone when he came up behind me and scared the life out of me causing me to jump a mile into the air. He forgot to ask me what drink I wanted but i nearly lost the contents of my bladder right then! Anyway when he came back it took me all of two minutes to give in and go to the bathroom. Once I was safely in the stall my zip was stuck and I was hopping about crossing and uncrossing my legs. When we finished eating it had stopped raining mostly so we went to walk about a bit more and soon we were chatting sat on a bench. I had to go again quite soon and was trying to sit still but homeanddry raised his eyebrows at me so I admitted the problem, I told him I could wait until we went back to the train station. He called his wife and talked about what train he would be getting whilst I struggled and was bouncing and shuffling quite badly and had one hand pretty close to my crotch, as close as I dared in public. His eyes kept darting from my hands to my face whilst he was on the phone haha. He suggested we go down to the station early so we started walking but I had to go too badly to keep up! It was a slow and painful walk to the station and when I got there I had to buy a train ticket to go and see my boyfriend, I had to go so badly I couldn't pay attention to the screen and kept pressing the wrong buttons so homeanddry did it for me! Then i had to run pretty much, left him with all my stuff and went into the gross public toilets but there was two stalls with one out of order and a girl got in before me! I had to stand bent over and cross legged whilst I waited and then had an extremely relieving pee! Anyway that's the end of the omo adventures but it was amazing to share it with someone in real life! Thank you for reading EQ x
  9. I am very active on other social media but don’t often feel fully understood. I have Facebook friends etc but the connection always seems loose. On here I feel welcome in another way altogether. I know we all share the same fetish but people on here seem friendlier and genuine despite most needing to remain anonymous. I guess I just wanted to say thanks for having me and making me feel welcome here. I count many of you as friends. P.s. the admin do a fab job too!
  10. Hey there! I thought I'd introduce an idea to the community that I think needs to happen: this is a place where you can go specifically to meet new people to get along with! I have no idea if this will work at all, but I thought it could be a great thing to put into the community, because I know firsthand that it's hard to find people who you can discuss these things with. Even with this sight's existence, I've noticed that I find it difficult to find people to talk to on here, so I decided to make a place where it is encouraged much more. So, without further ado, welcome to the Friend Finding Zone! Remember to be kind, introduce yourself, and don't forget that there is Direct Messaging built into OmoOrg in case you find someone you really like. Pro tip: looking for someone with a particular trait? maybe try Ctrl + F! type in a search term you want to find and friends could be waiting for you already!
  11. Oh my goodness me, this was a close shave. Too close for comfort one might add. So you know me, I love a bit of desperation from time to time, and with the limited days off I have combined with my strong bladder (normal people see this as a positive, but it does make desperation pretty hard to achieve), most of the time I have to plan ahead. What's more, I'm not particularly skilled at this planning and quite often I overestimate the amount of water it'll take to make my bulge explode. This, actually pretty recent experience, was one of those time. But it's these close shaves that really give me a thrill. A few weeks ago, I decided it had been far too long since I'd experienced desperation. Yes, I'd been a very naughty girl by taking secret leaks in various places, but I wanted to feel desperate. I wanted to be on the edge, having to use a strategically placed fingertip to hold back the flood. And the pressure on my bladder, the stretching of my abdomen. It was all something I strived for. On this particular day, I woke up with a longing more than ever. I was feeling naughty, horny and a little bit dirty. I think you'd agree, a dangerous mixture for a fan of wettings. So my planning begun. It was simple, I would take my latest toy (my camber pot, or potty as I like to call it) into college with me, carrying it hidden in my bag. Throughout the day I'd down water as much as possible with the intent to start the cycle home desperate for a wee. As I reached the edge of desperation, I would hop of my bike, hide in the verges and take out the potty. Simple, I thought. I'd experience desperation with an exiting bike ride and a desecrate but naughty emptying at the end of it all. But boy, I to get far more than I bargained for. The day started with a tinkle squatting in the shower, after which I glided through my morning routine with a smile on my face. Before heading out, I wrapped my potty in a towel and slipped it in a rucksack. I knew already that I would pee after my morning lecture, which finished at 11. That's when the ban on washrooms would commence and with enough water, I'd be busting for the journey home. But things were not going to be that simple. When I got to college, I realised today would be no ordinary day. My morning lecture was not theory work, as originally planned. Oh no, the college had managed to get in a special guest for the second years, and we were invited to sit in on the talk. I won't mention who it was, he'd be probably unheard of outside the industry anyway, but for me it was very exciting. Including the Q&A which I stayed for, the talk lasted from 10 through to 2.30, after which we done a meet and greet and by 3.00, the guest went to talk with our lecturers. A very exciting morning, the only negative being that I had missed my chance for a morning pee. Undeterred from my original plans, I decided it was too late to go now, instead I'd just take in a little less water but still aim to reach the climax of desperate on the way home. I did just that. My friend said we should get lunch in town, so I put my bag in my lockers and we walked to as fast food place, before heading back for the afternoon lecture which ran from 4-6. I was a long time to go without peeing, but I'd done it before and I'd do it again. Still buzzing from the morning, I spent the afternoon guzzling water like there was no tomorrow. And by 5 the pressure was hitting me. For the entire last hour of that lecture, I was squirming in my seat. I really needed to go, and I was beginning to realise that time was passing really slowly. I stopped drinking and hoped I could handle it. But by 5.45, the cramping began to start. I hadn't made myself desperate for so long. I didn't know if I could handle it or not. I was consumed with nerves, all of a sudden thinking that I wasn't up to the task. With my heart fluttering, I told myself all would be fine. 'Don't chicken out now, you and girl', the voice bounced through my mind. At one point I was sure I felt a squirt, but there was no damp patch on my denim shorts. For the only time that day, luck was in my favour. The session ended five minutes early, and I eagerly rushed to say goodbye to my friends. Standing up wasn't easy, but I knew that I had to make it far enough from the campus before I had any chance of privacy. This was when everything started to go wrong. Three of my friends were in that lecture, and my scrambled mind hadn't put to and two together that one of them also rented a room in the cottage I did. Slowly it dawned on me, we would be riding home together. Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, when we met to say goodbye to the other friend at the bike locker, my house mate offered her dinner. I put on a smile, but inside I was devastated. My bladder could burst at any minute. Trying to hide the predicament I'd put myself in, I lifted a let over my bike. In doing so, I felt a warm tingle. If that wasn't leakage, I wound't know was was. I daren't looked down. 'It's about frame of mind', I told myself, 'Your bladder's like titanium', I told myself. It may seem childish but I began to single that David Guetta song in my head, replacing the lyrics with foolish bladder puns. As we left the gate behind, the ride home was seeming very long indeed. With dread, I began to picture all the bumpy tracks we would be heading down, all the country lanes and the bridal path which vibrates you until you can't feel anything downstairs. Even starting out, every peddle was a conscious thought to hold in the pee. Realising the difficulties I'd be facing, where possible I cycled behind the other girls. By midway through the journey, I was really sweating. It was overcast, not even that warm, but every ounce of my energy was focused on clenching my muscles. My thighs clung to the saddle which bobbled about in my crotch. Intermittent, yes, but it was the only pressure I could use from the outside to hold back the pee. But nothing could stop the waves of desperation. They would come and go, and every time they came, did I know about it. I would keel over, my bottom shaking as a clinched as hard as possible. I found it impossible to peddle, letting the bike freewheel. The wave would pass and I'd boldly push on the peddles, getting as fast as possible so I had the momentum to freewheel through the next wave. My nerves and adrenaline were at an all time high, and eventually we reached the bridal track. I was terrified. Cycling behind everyone else, I slowed right down. The track grew rougher and rougher. I breathed fast, my heart racing. The feeling of desperation was making me swoon, and the vibration of the saddle in my crotch was counteracting everything I done to try stopping myself. There was nothing I could do. As the wheels passed over countless bumps, the trickle began. I breathed fast, feeling my cheeks blush. The two girls in front of me had no idea of my pain. I could hardly see, every brain function seemingly diverted to get that leak under control. My panties were getting wetter, but I was doing everything in my control to make sure no dark spot would be visible to my friends. Finally we turned the corner and the cottage was in sight. It was a race between my bike and my bladder. I merely had control, breathing deeply and concentrating on the clenching. We pulled up round the back of the house and friends turned to look at me. I was shacking, my face on fire and my brow sweating. "Charlie, are you okay?" "Yeah," I stuttered, "It's the pollen this time of year, brings on some mild asthma." Of course I was lying, it was far to embarrassing for me to admit that I was uncontrollably desperate to pee, and I'd done it deliberately. "I'll be fine. Just give me a minute." In between sentences I gasped. Then I felt a squirt in my panties. My eyes widened. 'Stay calm and confident, they won't notice' I told myself. "You head in, I might go and take a cool shower before I join you." After much persuasion they left. As they walked into the house I looked at horror for the damage of the squirt. But I was too desperate to move. I realised I couldn't get of my bike. I stayed sat of the saddle for a moment, building courage. Then, making sure I was visible from no window, I slipped a hand into my shorts and pinched my urethral shut. Holding my breath, I lifted a let and stood up. As I did, my hand slipped and a hot jet squirted over my finger. My legs were shaking, a damp path on shorts a dead give away. I tried to control my breathing and staggered into the house. They'd gone to the kitchen, the cost was clear. With timid steps I head up the stair case. I could pee in my potty, but I had to reach my room. Every step put pressure all over me. I was overcome with the adrenaline, but approaching my bedroom door I began to feel excited. I stood with crossed legs as I unlocked the door, and stepped in. Another jet shot out and I thrust a hand into my wet crotch. I had no time to waist, and head for the potty, expecting it to be under my bed. Then, disaster stuck again! I'd left the potty in my bag, which I'd locked in college before going to lunch. All of a sudden outright panic! I stood in the centre of my room, bobbing on the spot. One hand shacking with the key, the other pressing harder and harder into the damp patch on my shorts. My eyes darted across the room. I couldn't wet on the spot, someone might come in later on and see the mess. Then again, a jet. This one broke through the fabric and trickled down the inside of my shaking leg. 'No', I moaned under my breath. Then I saw my linen basket in the corner of the room. It was a waist high wicker container, filled with the next wash load. It my only option. Breathing fast and shallow I made a break for it, dropping my key and throwing open the lid. The flood started, my shorts filled with hot pee. It ran in streams down my legs and I spun round and pointed my butt over the dirty cloths. I fell back, into the basket. All I could here was the hissing. My bottom was covered in the pee as it soaked my shorts and what ever dirty clothes were below. I was so very naughty, imagining my friends seeing me and telling me off. After holding my breath for the explosion, I let out a moan before gasping for air. My knees no longer shook, it was okay for me to pee here. The hot jet was shooting right through the shorts how, creating a roaring hiss as it saturated the layers dirty clothes. My hands clung to the edges of the basket, and as the flow started to slow I found myself bobbing to add a little friction to the mix. Eventually everything went silent. My bladder was empty, every last drop now absorbed in my next wash load. I stood up slowly and pealed away the saturated shorts. My pink panties were sodden, my wet crotch puffy. I looked up, catching sight of myself in my full length mirror. I smiled back at myself, and the cold drips of my shorts trickled down the inside of my legs and spattered on the wooden floor. What a day it had been.
  12. Hey guys, I've not played Overwatch since the beginning of this year when my friends dropped the game and I've been thinking of jumping back in. Thing is, I prefer playing these kind of games when I have friends to play and chat over discord with. If you have Overwatch on PC and would also like to play, shoot me a message. I'm not looking for a super competitive bunch of people who are going to take winning too seriously and are way into the ranked matches, but rather some people who just want to kick back, chill and talk about common interests or what ever. Hopefully I'll hear from you guys soon. battle.net tag: Terrafora#2808
  13. Jenny and Ann: A swimming fantasy. This is a piece written to appeal to my own particular fantasies. I enjoy aspects of wetting, wetlook and female one piece swimsuits. I wanted to write a piece that had a woman swimming fully clothed, without any embaressment, with another swimming in a swimsuit. The following is the result. As awlays I quite enjoy a bit of back story about "discovery" and the single idea that other people out there also enjoy my particular kinks. So if this is your thing, please read on. Positive critisisms are always welcome, though negative comments will probably be written off with the suggestion to go and write something better! Anyway, here we go! Jenny and Ann were good friends, both were professional married thirty something’s who were lucky enough not to have to work full time. A couple of days a week they were ladies of leisure, which usually meant a trip to the gym to keep their bodies lithe! Which is where they had met. They recognised the enjoyment in each other of keeping fit and soon after their friendship blossomed Ann invited Jenny over to her house, to have a swim in their indoor pool. For a couple of months things went, well, swimmingly, both women felt relaxed in each other’s company, and they enjoyed the mutual times together keeping up their fitness, and generally gossiping and chatting as they swam. However one week things suddenly became interesting! As they swam up and down the reasonably short pool their conversation had turned to sex, and specifically sex with their husbands, and the little games they played. Ann let slip that one of the reasons they had bought the house with the pool was that she and her husband both enjoyed something called wetlook. Jenny was a bit lost at this, having not come across the term before now, and asked Ann to explain. But Ann became extremely embarrassed at this point saying something along the lines of having said too much. The subject was changed and the conversation moved on to other subject whilst they continued their weekly swim. However the following week, Jenny again visited for their weekly swim meet. She was welcomed by her host, Ann, at the door as usual, and they gently wandered through the reasonably well to do house to the rear parts where the pool and changing area was situated. Both were casually dressed in jeans and blouses, and as soon as they arrived in the changing room Jenny plonked her swimming bag down and proceeded to remove her clothing in readiness for her swim. She had stripped to her underwear, and was rummaging in her sports bag to pull out her swimsuit, when she noticed than Ann was just stood with her arms folded, leaning against the wall, still continuing to chat, as they normally did, but making no effort to change. “You not swimming today? Asked jenny, somewhat perplexed that Ann was not changing into her swimsuit. At this point Ann blushed a little, and then said rather hesitantly that she was going to swim, but, she wasn’t going to change. “What do you mean”? Said Jenny, “surely you’re going to put on your swimsuit to swim aren’t you?” “No, I’m not” said Ann suddenly finding some courage to admit a dark secret. “I really quite like getting my clothes wet, and I hope you don’t mind if I swim with them on today” “Well, it’s your pool” said Jenny “and I guess you can do anything you want to, as long as it’s legal, she added with a smile on her face. “is this the “wetlook” you mentioned last week? “I guess it is” said Ann, becoming emboldened that she had seemingly broached the subject with her friend, without any reproach. “Are you OK with it, ‘cause if you think it’s really weird I can always take my clothes off like normal” “No no no, “said Jenny” if that’s what you want to do, please go right ahead. Feel free, I hope we’re good friends, and I’m pleased that you seem to value our friendship enough to admit be able to own up to your little enjoyment. “Oh, thanks Jenny, I was really concerned you might think me really weird wanting to swim in my clothes, it’s not the sort of thing normal people seem to do”. “I guess it isn’t, but hey, I don’t reckon it does anybody any harm, and if you enjoy it, why should you not. You have a lovely private pool here, and I think I’m starting to understand why now! Let me just finish getting changed and we can have our swim.” With that Jenny stripped off her underwear, something she had done many times before in the presence of Ann and proceeded to clamber into her powder blue simple T back sports one piece swimsuit, an action that most women find a little difficult to do with very much grace. However this time, she fumbled a bit more than usual, and ended up turning to her waiting friend stuttering and blushing as she did. “Whilst we’re talking of such things,” Jenny said, “I might have a little confession to make myself” “You don’t like wet clothing as well do you”? Ann asked in a slightly hopeful voice, thinking that the slight discomfort of her admission could be lessened. “Well, you’ve been open enough to share your little diversion, and I feel I ought to redress the balance by admitting to mine” stuttered Ann. “Well, like you said, as long as it’s legal” encouraged Jenny, “go ahead, we’re all girls here, and after my rather embarrassing confession, I don’t think I can be really shocked by anything! ” “The thing is, it is quite embarrassing!” stuttered Ann, slumping to the little bench that ran down the short wall of the changing area. “I promise it will go no further than these walls” said Ann, trying to put Jenny at her ease. How bad can it be? Come on, you can tell me, how much more embarrassing can it be than admitting I like to swim in all my clothes, that’s the action of a mad woman. Come on you can tell me, after all we’re all girls together”. “Well the thing is, “faltered Jenny, “well, before I swim, I like to get a little wet first” This only drew a puzzled expression from Ann. She could see that Jenny was deeply embarrassed by what she was trying to say, so she went and sat next to her on the bench, putting her arm around her, still trying to fathom what she was getting at. “You mean you get a bit excited by going for a swim?” floundered Ann, wondering what she meant about “getting a bit wet” “Well, yes,” said Jenny, “but it’s not really the going for a swim, it’s what I do beforehand. “ “Curious and getting more curious by the second” said Ann “whatever it is you do obviously excites you, so why don’t you tell me what it is”. “Well,” Ann almost whispered, “before I go for a swim, “again a pause, “ I like to go into the toilet” another long pause, “and I sort of, well, I... I wet myself; I sit on the toilet and quite deliberately wee in my costume. There, I’ve said it now. I would understand if you were completely disgusted and never wanted to speak to me again. You must think me very childish.” “I’m not disgusted, “ said Ann, “in fact quite the opposite, I’m quite intrigued! I’ve been getting my clothes for many years, but never thought of wetting them by peeing in them, you enjoy doing this?” Ann gently asked. “I always have done”, said Jenny, her courage returning now that her dark guilty secret was out in the open. “Wow” said Ann, I’ve never thought of doing that, sounds like it could be fun. “I’ve never thought of swimming in my clothes, but I quite like the sound of that too” said Jenny. “I’ll tell you what,” said Ann, “why don’t you go into the little toilet here, and have a right good pee, and then we can have a swim, and we can both enjoy ourselves, and talk about this some more. Leave the door open if you like.” “You don’t mind?” asked Jenny” “No, of course not, why should I? As you said, it does no harm, and if you enjoy doing it, why shouldn’t you. So, come on, let’s really enjoy our weekly swims together. They both got up from the bench, and Jenny made her way into the little toilet attached to the changing room, she lifted the lid, and sat down, a little self consciously on toilet with her swimsuit very much in place. Ann hovered by the door, “do you mind if I see?” she asked, “no”, replied Jenny, “but I might be a little shy” A few seconds of silence passed as nothing very much happened. Jenny looked up at Ann and gave a bit of a lop sided smile, “I’m not used to doing this in front of strangers” she said. “Well I’m not exactly a stranger” replied Ann, “well, no”, said Jenny, “but, well, you know what I mean, you’re not my lover..” “True” agreed Ann, “but we seem to be sharing things that are quite close to our hearts”. Jenny sat, willing her flow to start, but feeling a huge case of bladder shyness coming on, a syndrome know by lots of blokes at public urinals. “Just relax”, said Ann, “pretend I’m not here, let it all flow, go on, enjoy yourself, I want to see how good it can be!” and with that a wet stain blossomed at Jenny’s crotch, turning the pastel blue material of her crotch a shiny darker blue, it slowly grew in size as her inhibitions loosened, and she bore down on her bladder, emptying it into her gusset, pee jetting through the material as well as collecting behind it gravity drawing it back towards the seat of her swimsuit before emerging, in a small but steady stream, and falling noisily to the waters below. All of this whilst her friend gazed on. As Jenny’s stream faltered and died her friend noticed a slight shudder as Jenny touched her private place and gently rubbed herself. Her dreamy eyes, slightly flustered cheeks and erect nipples told the whole story of her enjoyment of this, usually socially distained, act, and Ann found her own hand gently massaging her mound through her own clothes, she allowed her friend a couple of moments of quiet before asking her, “Wow, you did enjoy that, do you think I should have a go”. “Well, “said Jenny “only if you really want to. “I really think I do” replied Ann “you obviously enjoyed that very much, and I think I would very much like to try it, let’s change places” Jenny stood and eased past her friend in the small toilet, allowing her friend to access the waiting toilet bowl. Jenny was a little surprised when, rather than removing her jeans, and maybe sitting on the toilet in her pants Ann simply plonked her behind down on the toilet seat still sporting her jeans. “Wow” said Jenny, “you’re really going for it aren’t you”. “Well, in for a penny, as it were” said Ann, not realising the unintended irony in her comment. “I was worried you would think me sick, wanting to wee myself” admitted Jenny, “but when you said about getting your clothes wet, I thought you might get it, you know, doing something a bit naughty..... “ she trailed off. “No, I get it completely” said Ann, “It’s deeply sexual isn’t it, and strange though it might first seem, I can understand it being fun and exciting and kind of forbidden. Now let me get started. I tell you what, it does feel really strange, sat here on the toilet with my clothes on, but exciting, and a bit naughty at the same time!” Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes ticked away as Ann desperately tried to pee in her pants, but years of ingrained toilet training stood in the way of her first and desperately wanted full-on intentional pants wetting. “Tell me” “asked Jenny “you understand that when I wet my swimsuit it’s sexual, is it the same for you?” “Oh yes” said Ann “It’s something I’ve done for most of my life, when I turned puberty my wet childhood games took on a very sexual turn. I was in heaven when I married Bob and discovered he liked it as well. We hardly ever have sex without some sort of wetlook involvement. Damn, I just don’t seem to be able to go. How do you manage it so readily?” “Years of practice” said Jenny, “I remember the first time I tried to pee myself as a young kid, I just couldn’t do it. It took me several goes straining and trying to pee in my pants before I could do it deliberately! Just relax and let it come. A couple more minutes passed, but still Ann’s panties and jeans remained stubbornly dry. “Can I make a suggestion” offered Jenny, “you’ve kind of been caught off-guard today, and you’ve not had time to prepare, why not leave it for now, and try again when you are ready. Next time try this, start by drinking a lot of tea or coffee, or diet coke, and then when you are really bursting, come into here and try again. Maybe just wear some knickers, or even your swimsuit, take your time, don’t rush it, maybe stimulate yourself a bit, trust me, there’s nothing like a good orgasm when your bladder’s really full and ready to give out, and quite often that orgasm is the trigger your bladder needs to burst right into whatever your wearing” Again, minutes past and in the end the look of deep concentration on Ann’s face morphed in to disappointment and frustration. “Come on, I can’t get wet like this” said Ann, “not now, let’s go and get good and wet in the pool” She stood up and they both turned and rushed into the main pool room. Jenny went to the steps and started to lower herself into the water, savouring the warm waters of the pool as they welcomed her into the pool. Ann walked round to the deeper end of the pool, she stood on the side, and caught Jenny’s attention as she stood right to the edge of the pool and proceeded to perform an almost perfect dive into the water, she swam a little way underwater before surfacing, standing on the bottom of the pool, and gathering her hair, sweeping it behind her shoulders. Her cotton blouse was plastered to her skin, and almost completely opaque now that it was sodden, her white bra was also no longer hiding anything and her nipples were standing to attention peeping out through the material for all the world to see. “Now that feels better” she said, “I’ve always enjoyed our swims together, but also saw them as missed opportunities as was only wearing a swimsuit. I’m glad we got to share our little kinks. The two swam the lengths of the pool for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts, enjoying the trust and freedom of the friendship to relax, and be a little bit more themselves than they had been before. Eventually Jenny broke the silence. “You’re a bit slower fully clothed, I usually can’t keep up with you!” “I thought I might well be, to be honest I was almost planning to tell you that swimming in my clothes was good training, as is slows me down, and makes it more hard work, but that would have been a bit of a lie, I just enjoy every opportunity to get good and wet, and now, because of your acceptance of me being me, I can do it more often. I should have known that I swim slower with my clothes on, I swim here often enough! But I guess most of the time I’m in here with Bob, and we don’t do very much actual swimming!” “Ooh, do go on” said Jenny, “tell me the dirty details”. “Well, I guess that I can leave an awful lot to your imagination, but we often dress up to come in for a swim together, I’ve got loads of clothes in my fantasy wardrobe to keep things fresh with Bob, he likes all sorts of outfits, and we often come in here dressed up and splash about till he can’t keep his hands off me anymore and then he starts touching me up and getting me all excited until I’m begging him to satisfy me, we very often end up coupled in the pool, him with his knob out through his fly and me with my skirts up round my waist, or my trousers round my ankles, and my knickers just pulled to one side. But tell me, come on, fairs fair, I’m telling you all about my intimate details, It’s time for you to fess up, does Dave like it when you pee yourself?” “Well yes, I must confess” said Jenny, emboldened by their new openness, “Dave does enjoy the wet side of sex. We often have an intimate evening that will have me copiously wetting my knickers at some time in the proceedings. He likes to tank me up and then stimulate me until I lose it and piss all over myself, and him into the bargain, he just loves it, the wetter the better he says. You know that large luxury bathroom I said we had installed a couple of years ago, well now you know why! No one else knows this, but when we’re both feeling randy we take double inflatable mattress into the bathroom with us, and we can be as pissy as we like!” “Well, who’d ‘ave thought” said Ann, “two normal looking women of a certain age, both with naughty little secrets! At least we can be ourselves here, doing whatever we like. It never occurred to me before that I would like it if I deliberately wet myself, but I’m going to give at a bloody good try ‘cause I think I would really enjoy doing it!" “And suddenly I feel under-dressed” chimed in Jenny. Would you mind if I brought some spare clothes with me next week!
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