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  1. I’ve always enjoyed reading stories here by people who were able to share their desperation and wetting kinks with their partners. But I’ve also been jealous because I had had never found the courage to tell anybody about it. I’ve read posts here about telling a partner and how the results were mostly positive, but still couldn’t manage to confess it to my wife. We’ve been married for several years now but have already been together much longer. During all these years I had been wanting to tell her about it and share it with her. I waited for opportunities to bring up the topic, but always missed them. I dropped hints now and then, but she never caught them. So I feared she had no interest in it and would never consent to trying anything omo related. Earlier this year I had confided to hear that I would like it if she peed on me. She had replied that she would consider it, but never brought it up again. But last weekend I finally dared to tell her all and – guess what – she took it very well! She was kind of surprised and told that she isn’t into holding and wetting herself, but she’s going to try some things with me. She admitted that she likes to have sex with a (semi-)full bladder (which we have tried before) and that it feels much more intense for her. So I guess that’s a common point to start from. I feel really happy now that I’ve told her. It’s like some long awaited relieve and I can recommend it to all who still hesitate: If you love and trust your partner, tell them. You’ll be surprised. I want to share the situation which triggered my decision. Last Friday I had to drive to another city to get some business done, and my wife was going to join me because we planned to visit the Christmas market there after my appointment. In the morning before we started I was preparing breakfast and asked my wife if she wanted a cup of coffee. She hesitated and said if she had a coffee now she would for sure need to pee later on the road. I answered that might apply for me anyways, even if I didn’t have some coffee. (In fact, I often need to pee quite frequently in the mornings. I guess that might be because I mostly wake up pretty thirsty and drink a sufficient amount of water after getting up. And maybe my kidneys then try to make up what they couldn’t do during the night. Whatever, I’m no urologist or something, but the effect is comparable to the rapid desperation method.) She replied that she’ll have a cup herself then, and that we’d just need to pee together. You might imagine that this thought alone turned me on. Both of us used the toilet before we got into the car and started our journey, but just as I had expected, we had barely left the city when I felt like I could pee again. The drive would last only an hour and a half, so I had already decided to hold it and didn’t say anything about it. I was driving while my urge grew rapidly more intense. I knew there weren’t many rest areas with toilets on the route and we had already passed two of them, so I was pondering if holding was the right decision and was hoping that we weren’t facing any delays due to traffic. When we had still half an hour to go, my wife finally told me that she needed to pee. I asked her how bad it was and she told me it was pretty urgent. So I answered that I also needed to pee pretty badly. We discussed if there was any rest area ahead. She took a look at her phone and told me there would be parking lot soon, but that it didn’t have any toilets. She suggested that we could stop there and check if we could go into the bushes. But as we drove on, no parking lot appeared. Maybe it had been closed down. So we had to keep holding it until we reached our destination. I normally avoid holding myself if somebody could see it and had never done it in view of my wife. On that day I had already sneakily reached down with my hand and given myself a short squeeze when she was looking another direction. But now, as I was facing several more miles of driving with a really full bladder, I just thought fuck it. The whole situation of being desperate to pee together was turning me on anyways. So I didn’t care anymore if she could see it and just grabbed my crotch to ease my urge whenever I felt like. It didn’t take long until she noticed. She seemed irritated and asked me: “What are you doing there? Are you holding yourself?” I answered: “Yes I do. I need to pee pretty badly.” I told her that it wasn’t absolutely necessary, but that it helped me and just felt so much better. She sat there tensed up and pressing her thighs together, but showed no other signs of desperation. So I asked her if it wouldn’t help her if she also pressed a hand into her crotch. She said no and that she could hold it like this. She also told me that she felt so sorry about seeing me like this and that I could just pull over and pee at the edge of the road if I had to. I replied that I was okay and that I could hold it until we arrived, so no need to be sorry. Her watching me hold myself was making me pretty hard, it was such a turn on. Finally when we arrived, the first thing we did was going to the toilet. On that day we didn’t talk about it any more, but the experience was so hot that I already had decided to tell her everything. So on the next day when we showered together after having sex, I told her how much I loved it when she watched me desperate to pee and holding myself, and also that I have a fetish for watching other people holding their pee. It appeared that she found it kind of strange, she suggested I should think of something “easy” for her to try, like peeing on me in the tub. We had no time to discuss it any further then, but in the evening of the day after I told her all details, what I like and dislike about holding and wetting, what I would like her to do and which situations in our life together I remember when she was desperate that still turn me on. She also told me how she felt about all that. While we were talking, she gave me a long intense hand job while she had a full bladder. It felt like heaven. By the way, I really have to pee while typing this. I’m so excited now and looking forward to all we might share in the future. I hope that I’ll have some stories to share soon. (Sorry for the lengthy read, I hope you enjoyed)
  2. WARNING: SEXUALLY EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD!!! Let me start off by saying that I'm a massive prude, I know. Here I am in my twenties and only just now touching my first real life penis. To add some context that will either make you feel better, or much worse, I experienced no sexual feelings whatsoever until I was 19. Let me say that again, I was functionally asexual until I was 19. When I first started to experience what being horny felt like, I honestly thought that I was losing my mind, but that's a soap box for another day. Today's story is about me immortalizing a very special moment for my boyfriend and me in the best way I know how: telling strangers on the internet! So, background. My boyfriend and I have been in a long distance relationship for about two and a half years. We had never met in person until about a week ago. Naturally, we had a lot of time to make up for. We are both virgins (unless you count the later events of this story as losing your virginity, but I don't, so . . .) and I really want to wait until I'm married to have penetrative sex. (Stereotypical religious thing, but I also have several personal reasons for wanting to live this way.) I had a friend escort me to make sure that I didn't get shanked, just in case. Our story begins the moment we existed in the same space. We hugged, we kissed, I felt his erect penis trying to break free of it's fabric prison . . . romantic crap like that. The day wore on, but we couldn't manage to peel ourselves off of each other. My poor friend just existed awkwardly in a nearby room listening to us noisily making out and fondling each other. (It was one of the only rooms in the house that didn't smell like smoke, and she's quite sensitive, as it turns out.) The time was drawing near for me to leave and the two of us had already said our goodbyes fifty or so times. We just weren't ready to be apart again. I continue loitering in his section of the house and he tells me that he's going to go shower. He had already invited me to join him a few times, and I really should have taken him up on that. (We had gone swimming. He had shampoo. I did not. Also, naked kisses.) I tell him once again, without any gusto, that I don't trust myself around his wet, naked body. He relents, but tells me that he'll be leaving the door unlocked should I have a change of heart. I simply watch the bathroom door longingly as he scrolls through Spotify until he lands on Beggin' (I'm not sure who's version of it). Now, he claims that he simply chose the song because he was in the mood to hear it and it's a good song (He's right. It slaps.), but it definitely sealed the deal for me. My friend, wonderful, beautiful person that she is, encourages me to go for it. I hesitate a bit before testing the doorknob (unlocked!) and slipping in to the bathroom. He seems pleasantly surprised to see me. Cutting straight to the chase, I ask, "Can I see him?" He wiped away the foggy moisture from the shower door, revealing to my eyes my first real life penis. He slid the door open, asking if I wanted to join him. While I absolutely wanted to, I refused, but got down on my knees. I began to reach for him, but stopped to ask, "May I?" "Absolutely." I ran my hands over the first dick that I've ever felt and it was . . . Not what I expected. I've heard that it's hard, I've been told that it's hard, I had been feeling that it was hard as we pressed ourselves into each other earlier in the day. After all of that build up of, "Oh, it's gonna be really hard," that wasn't exactly true. He was erect, it was hard, but I never thought about the skin at the surface of the penis still being soft and fleshy. (He has been cut, so I guess I never thought about it.) I'm well into my exploratory rubbing and touching when there's a knock at the bathroom door. There's only one other person in the house with us at the time, so it has to be my friend. Assuming that she needed me for something, I gave him a quick kiss before slipping out of the bathroom. Sure enough, there she is standing not far away at the foot of the stairs. She gave me a pep talk as I hid my right hand (which absolutely had some of his pubes on it) mostly behind me. She gave me a quick reminder that we didn't have any protection, so we shouldn't go all the way, but that we could still do other things without marring my chastity. She wished me luck and made her way upstairs partly to give the two of us some privacy. Once again hyped on on confidence that I did not deserve, I got back down on my knees and took his dick into my mouth. I really expected it to have some sort of flavor to it, but, likely because of the shower, it only tasted like water with a fleshy texture. (I need that quote on a poster promoting blowjobs.) I ran my lips all the way down to the base of his shaft, trying to see how deep I could go. (Small uvula gang, where you at!?) As luck would have it I could go all the way to where his shaft met the rest of his body before gagging. I did this twice before calling it there. (I couldn't remember if a person could gag two or three times safely before running the risk of vomiting, so I played it safe.) I switched over to giving him a hand job. I started slowly at first, focusing on the length of his shaft, the back of the head, how much pressure I was gripping him with, things that I assume are normal things to focus on. After a few moments, it occured to me that I needed to speed up if I wanted him to cum (and I did). I sped up, slowing down occasionally mostly because I was having a hard time focusing on kissing his arm as well as jerking him off. (I'm a small person and was afraid that I was too short to reach his dick and his face at the same time. 😅) Soon enough, he orgasmed and gave me some parting kissing before I left him to finish up his shower in peace and contentment. As much as I want to tell you that angel choirs sang during or after my first in-person sexual experience, they didn't. I wasn't struck down by God, not was I given a divine pat on the back. I just did what felt right and natural to do with the man that I love. Looking back, my only regret is not joining him in the shower to bum his shampoo and maybe have him return the favor that I so graciously bestowed upon him. There's always next time, I suppose.
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