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Found 1 result

  1. PeerPressure

    female This Isn't Pool Water

    Heyyy all! It's been a while, so I figured I'd update you with one of my more exciting adventures of recent times!! Per usual, if you just want the peeing and don't care about the build up, skip to paragraphs 3, 5, and 6! Three or four days ago, after a long shift at work, I felt the urge to blow off some steam in an...unconventional...way . As usual, I had been hydrating well throughout the day, but I knew I wanted to do something pee-related with my evening, so I didn't permit myself the customary restroom break before heading home. The urge wasn't too bad when I finally barged through my front door and chucked my keys onto the table, but I knew it would be coming sooner than later. Quickly, I darted to my room and stripped out of my outfit for the day. I, in the midst of an embarrassing amount of horniness , briefly considered making a puddle as I stood nearly naked in the middle of the floor, but after a brief moment of hesitation, my lack of will to clean up the mess won out. Instead, a different idea came over me and I shuffled through my drawers until I found my swimsuit, which I proceeded to don. There's a fitness facility near my house, complete with indoor pool that I frequent, and I thought it might be fun to take my pee there. Despite it being entirely too cold, I threw one of my running skirts over my bikini bottoms and compensated by wearing a heavy hoodie. With that, I grabbed a spare set of clothes, downed the contents of my water bottle, refilled it, and set off! When I pulled into the gym parking lot fifteen minutes later, though I wasn't yet bursting, I could feel the urgency rising. It was chilly enough to prevent anybody from hanging out in the parking lot, which worked in my favor. Conversely to everyone else, I parked as far away from the doors as I could and grinned cheesily to myself. As I enjoyed a few extra fleeting moments of warmth in my car, I chugged down my water bottle. It was agonizing. I could hear and feel the water sloshing in my stomach as I opened the door and rose to my feet. The cool air nipped at my skin and I shivered as goosebumps developed. I glanced about to ensure nobody was around. The coast was clear. It was time to warm up my legs . I still have difficulty convincing my bladder to let me wet myself in public situations, so despite my rapidly-processing kidneys and active attempt to alleviate the ever-growing pressure, it took a bit of effort. I loitered nonchalantly (Who am I kidding? It was probably the most conspicuous thing in the world) by my car and tried to open the flood gates. After several seconds that seemed to stretch into hours, the chill below was met by a spurt of warmth. The first jet of pee seeped tantalizingly into my bikini bottoms, which pressed warmly against my lady bits. With a little more coercing, the juices were finally flowing. I shook with chills as cascades of warmth overflowed my swimsuit and began finding their way down my legs. I subtly smiled to myself and began making my way, very slowly, for the gym door, a task which proved easier said than done. It never fails to be an exhilarating, but extremely peculiar sensation to walk while gushes of pee pour out of my nether regions, drench my legs, and spatter to the ground. As the pee reached my feet, it was swiftly wicked up by the fabric of my socks until one of my old, ratty shoes satisfyingly squelched with every step. As I nervously glanced around to ensure there were no witnesses, I quietly admired the trail of drops and splatters that followed me to the door. I had underestimated how badly I needed to relieve myself. I was nearly to the gym before the last few drops found their way out. My legs glistened with wetness. I checked in and made my way to the locker room, not garnering anything more than a brief glance in passing. I was amazed at how oblivious people are to everything around them. A grown 23-year-old woman just peed herself like a little girl, legs shimmering with wetness, yet nobody had a clue. A sense of accomplishment welled inside me as I rounded the corner into the locker room and found a place to stash my effects. It was weirdly empty for a weekday evening. I shrugged it off, preoccupied with the pleasure of a wet patch hugging my crotch, and drank another quarter bottle before making my way out to the pool. I plunged into the water and began swimming. I had perhaps gotten a little carried away with my fluid consumption. Within 10 minutes, the urge was making itself known again. There were a handful of people swimming, including one guy who seemed to have trouble keeping his eyes to himself (Or perhaps it was just a combination of my paranoia and an underlying desire for attention ), so I had to be discreet, but I was confident I could still get away with a little fun. I gave it another 2-3 minutes before I finally surrendered to my bladder and climbed out of the pool. I sat on one of the metal benches near the pool and prepared myself for round two. As I dripped with pool water, I soon also dripped with urine, both of which mixed on the seat and found their way to the floor. A surge of adrenaline shot through me and tangled up my innards as clear pee poured out of my bikini, unbeknown to any of the onlooking bystanders. I tried, frivolously, to contain that I was trembling with excitement. Thankfully, nobody seemed to acknowledge it. The guy shot a glance over at me as I was going at full blast. I shyly smiled and he quickly turned away. I found it difficult to finish peeing. With every "final" spurt, there seemed to be more to replenish it. Finally, I gave up and rose from my seat. The puddle I left behind was far more than feasible to pass as residual pool water dripping from a relatively small female. I dove back into the pool and swam for a few minutes until the urge struck again. In order to spread out the fun a little more, I stopped waiting for urgency. I peed on the poolside, in the pool, while jumping in, while swimming underwater--it was amazing!! At one point, I got out, faced the wall, and pulled my bikini to the side so I could admire the flow with my eyes as it saturated the floor and my butt. Finally, when I'd had enough (and the urges finally weren't practically every five minutes), I made my way back to the locker room, laughing to myself that the poor guy had no idea how many times I'd peed with him watching me. In the locker room, I noted again that it was deserted. One final devilish hoorah sprang to mind as I peeled off my wet swimsuit. I was totally alone--nobody could stop me . I had a little residual urine--not a ton, but enough. I stood there, naked, in the middle of the locker room, closed my eyes, and let it flow. I barely contained a childish giggle as pee splattered the floor beneath me and dripped down my legs one final time for the night. It wasn't enough to leave an impressive puddle, but it was plenty to provide a thrill. I quickly rinsed off in the shower, making great effort to not touch myself too much, threw on my dry clothes, and made my way home, glowing with excitement.