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Amazing girl.. 10 minute video, she is extremely desperate and horny. She pees SO much through her jeans, just when you think she is done she has more. Anyway.. Enjoy https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5e4177ba1eb47

View File IFMS - Erotic Peeing and Masturbation Title tells it all. This company does nice quality production and they are very natural and sensual, no fakes orgasms Enjoy, Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 01/30/2020 Category Peeing  

View File Peeing and Masturbation in the Forest! Another IFMS, with peeing in the forest. Enjoy, Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 02/02/2020 Category Peeing  

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The house is silent. It’s late. With street lamps off, every inch of the room is lost in blackness. My parents are away, making me responsible for my two younger sisters. I hear one awake. They shuffle toward my room and the door swings slowly open. The hallway night light silhouettes young Lilly tip toeing toward me. I know why she’s here, I secretly hoped for it. She taps my arm. “Did it happen?” I ask, not wanting to unnecessarily embarrass her. “Yes,” the sheepish reply. “It’s okay. Were you wearing a diaper?” “No. I...” Lilly’s voice was shaky and tearful. “Don’t worry. Mom doesn’t have to know.” We walked hand in hand to the dim bathroom, where I helped her out of her wet pyjamas and dried her with a bath towel. I left her with wet wipes while I retrieved a clean shirt and pants, then helped her dress. She was shaking when I tucked her into my dry bed, so I offered what reassurance I could, then held her hand until she was asleep. As much as it pains me to see Lilly upset with herself, I had been praying for this to happen tonight. I feel guilty for it, but her bed was legitimately wet now. I have the perfect excuse to have some fun, and it’s not the end of the world if I can’t hide all the evidence. As I walk out I scoop a pair of leggings from my linen basket. I close the door and walk down the hall past Amy. I check she is sound asleep and close her door too. Lilly’s room is on the other side of the bathroom, secluded at the far end of the house. I step in and click the door shut. A night light glows on its dimmest setting, making shapes of furniture loom from the dark. The aroma is sweet, unmistakably the smell of my sister’s accident. I feel ashamed to use her as a cover story, but I adore playing like this and simply cannot get away with damaging my mattress. Lilly’s bears the scars from many accidents, and Mom has fully prepared it with a waterproof protector. I wonder how intentional Lilly’s accidents are. She’s getting older and should surely have grown out of it by now. Does she enjoy it as much as I do? Why wasn’t she wearing her diaper? I replace my pyjamas with the leggings. I know I can include them in the bedding wash without suspicion. Then, at last, I perch my bottom on her bed. The cold clammy sheets make my leggings damp. I swing my legs up and lay back. My bladder seems suddenly on the verge of release, as if I have just stepped in a bathroom and am lowering down onto the seat. My body is trained to know the feeling of Lilly’s wet bed. This ritual has happened so many times. I am deeply aroused. My routine knows what’s coming. With a hand behind my head, my right begins to circle my crotch. The first tentative touches through the material are the beginning of my journey. With fingers almost trembling, I explore the seam that runs along the seat of the leggings. The fabric is doubled over here, numbing the sensations within. My fingertips survey the textile in detail. I run them up and down, side to side. Every curve must be explored. From up above, where the waist band rests on my bladder, to below where the top of my legs met with the crest of my bottom. I place one finger either side and feel how swollen it is. The fabric stretched over the skin, the skin stretched over my arousal. I draw my fingers together, bringing the tips to the crevice which aches to be touched. Slow exploration becomes tapping, the impact of my fingers’ dance starting the swell of pleasure within. Soon tapping becomes rubbing. The once delicate curves demanding more and more pressure to feel alive. My heartbeat throbs in my ears, muted heavy breaths roll over my tongue. Before I know it my hand has slipped past the waistband. Fingers traverse sticky wet lips. Damp leggings press my hand flat. While my index and middle fingers explore the folds, my other fingers are forced further down. I feel the tight dot of my bottom hole squeezing and pulsing. It seems to writhe with the waves of pleasure that grow within me. My small finger is lost to the warmth between cheeks. I close my eyes. Without a thought, I have fingers deep inside me now. My knees are rising uncommanded, heels digging into bed. Wet sheets cling to my arching back. My hand is on the verge of cramping. The same repetitive circling of my fingers fatiguing me. I’m on autopilot. I don’t think about any action. Despite the ache in my wrist I penetrate harder and faster. I am rewarded by waves of pleasure, coming and going with growing power. I gasp. Deep within, fingers slip between velvety skin. I know the spot well, drawing up and down it again and again. I am close now. Very close. The flutters that come and go stay for longer. Each one pulling me higher. My body rises more from the bed, heals lifting my bottom clear of the sheets. Groans escape into the room. It’s arriving. I want to wet the bed in time with this, but I’ve no clue how. I’ve never done the two together like but I crave the idea. I gasp, trying to relax without hindering the impending climax. I feel the need to pee, I really do. It’s almost too much. Fingers pound me, thumb searching for pee hole but meeting the hard nipple of my cliterous instead. I try to relax. Force me bladder. Pant, gasp. Then a victory. One short sharp squirt of liquid hits my palm and disappears through my fingers. A scream is muffled into a moan. Deep inside my attempts to relax give way to spasms that come at lightning speed. My bottom hits the bed hard, thighs trembling beyond control. The urge to pee battles with pleasure. Another press inside and the spasms grip my middle finger harder than ever. I can’t take it. Bursts of pee begin erupting from me. I can’t breath for the joy of it. Every wave of pleasure breaks into a hot golden splash that smothers my fingers. I withdraw my aching hand. An involuntary gasp signals a finale, the ecstasy writhing though becoming a breath in the night. As pleasure fades I can relax fully. The trickle of pee that runs to my bottom becomes a stream. The hiss is louder than any moan. Cold sheets become warm again, the precious hot liquid pooling around my back. My leggings are soaked and I love it. I’m almost exhausted, but not quite. So aroused by my own activities, I cannot find rest. In a final act, I remove the saturated leggings and allow my recovering hand to find my cliterous. It is electric to touch. I circle it with my index finger, building my body to one final indulgence. At last, my work is done.

I laid in bed, wearing a tight little shirt, no under clothes, and some leggings that were soft and velvety to the touch. I had been slowly leaking, just enough to get only my pants wet. I kept touching myself, petting the soft, warm, wet fabric. My crotch, my bottom, my thighs, all the way down to my knees, were nice and wet. I was halfway under the blankets, so every time I squirmed around in bed to change positions so that I would wet them evenly, the wonderful smell of piss would drift up. My wetting my leggings while in bed was so good that I didn't get any piss the bed at all. Then suddenly the desperate urges hit. Hard. I could squeeze my pelvic muscles, I could hold myself tightly between my legs, press my thighs together, feel the sensations of nearly cumming, enjoy the strong pulses... For about three minutes. With every little leak, more and more piss escaped in larger bursts. The need for sexual release was intense right along with the need for emptying my bladder. I knew this type, full bladder masturbating would cause greater rushes of piss. So I put my favorite piss blanket underneath my bottom and began touching myself, inside my pants, stroking my wet lips, fingering deep and hard inside, piss escaping with every curled finger reaching inside my. It was so easy to cum, but so hard to resist releasing all of my piss underneath me. I began writhing around even harder, the post orgasmic pleasure and the desperation pleasure pulsing deep inside me. I began arching my back, curling up into a tight ball. Continuing to breath heavily and moan softly. I let one more small stream flow. Barely able to stop myself from pissing everywhere in my bed. I knew that when the next wave slammed me from the inside, it would be a long, hot gushing flood. One last tight, spine tingling spasm came over me, stinging the hell out of me so pleasurably. Then I quickly sat up, barely able to hold my piss, gravity working against me. I almost fully ran to the bathroom. I knew better than to even try to pull my already wet pissy pants down. My hands didn't even touch my waistband. I sat right down on the toilet, leggings pulled all the way up, and pissed through them. It felt so good that as I squeezed off the flow, which was way more difficult than it usually is, I debated on what was to come next. The sound of pissing through leggings into the toilet was a different kind of sound. I sat there, wet and drippy bottom, for a moment. Then stood up and felt my wet bottom, my wet crotch, my hot, velvety soft material clinging to me. Then I went back to the toilet, facing the wall, straddled it, my pissy pants pulled up, and sat there leaning forward and pissed the rest of it out. Afterwards I just stood there feeling the relaxing after affects, the piss dripping farther and farther down the material of my leggings, touching my wet self all over. Finally I change into dry leggings and go back to bed. I knew the potential for more piss to make an appearance, and I wanted to feel the new warm small dribbles. A few little leaks escaped as my body twitced a bit. Everything began to relax even more. I fell asleep, my damp blanket and my skin still smelling of piss.

Happy New Year all, in this story we take a look at the budding sexuality of Ms. Hermione Granger. We follow along as she discovers a new hobby that brings her a lot of pleasure.. Hermione's curly hair was sticking to the sweat on her forehead. Same went for her bare thighs on her stool. Bare only because she didn't want anything else to leak out of her and soak into her skirt. Giving away her predicament. See, all the students were sweating in herbology today because it was quite warm but Hermione had other reasons. She needed a wee. Badly. She had a lot of pumpkin juice at breakfast and spent her free , who would do the work for her group? Harry? Not likely. Ron? Get serious. Her usual high marks were at stake here! If she had to wet her panties in the process of getting them, so be it. Besides, that thought had suddenly became exciting. Wait, why would that excited her? Especially in...THAT way? It made no sense. She could ruin her reputation. Not that she was ever thought of as popular but there was no way she could live down something like that. Especially with the Slytherins in attendance. More excitement... "What the hell is going on here?" Hermione thought to herself, trying to keep her concentration. She was very inexperienced when it came to sexual arousal. She had masturbated a few times but never reached orgasm. Even after she learned that nifty spell in Modern Witch. But this was indeed the beginnings of sexual arousal. She was damp and not just from her dribble or the sweat. Hermione had figured that she hadn't orgasmed when experimenting because she hadn't found anything to focus on that she found "interesting". This couldn't be turning her on, right? Maybe it was the fact that instead of bouncing about as, she normally would when she had to go, she was subtly grinding herself into the stool? Yes of course that was it! "Silly girl" she thought of herself. The grinding wasn't helping much anymore though. Her, erm, area was beginning to burn and she absolutely couldn't hold still. If Harry and Ron weren't distracted by a conversation about the upcoming quidditch match, they definitely would have noticed. Embarrassment was starting to override everything at this moment. She couldn't have an accident at her age. It was absurd! But now that she thought of it, it seemed inevitable. She would have to make it from the greenhouses, across the grounds to the castle, then to a bathroom. Hermione looked to the clock. Still 10 minutes. Impossible, she thought. She'd never make it. She had to find an alternative. Hermione was the most clever girl in her class after all. Since she had finished the project Hermione spent those last 10 minutes thinking of ways not to piss herself in front of not only her friends and housemates but the Slytherins! Hagrid's maybe? His hut was closer, but Harry and Ron would definitely want to tag along. Leaving her with an audience once more. Excitement again? She shook that thought with 2 minutes in class, and judging from the pain in her swollen bladder, MAYBE 3 minutes of dry knickers left. Hermione had no time for such thoughts. As the bell rang Hermione decided she would hang back and pretend to get extra help everybody knew she didn't need. Then make a run, who was she kidding at this point, a hobble to Hagrid's and hope to Merlin she made it there dry and before Harry or Ron noticed where she was headed. Brrrng! Everyone, except Hermione began to leave. "C'mon Hermione the doors this way", Ron said sarcastically. "I've got to ask Professor Sprout a question, I'll catch up." At first she thought she was caught due to the need to cross her legs after she stood and the quiver in her voice when she spoke. But with a simultaneous shrug Harry and Ron left for the castle. Hermione could barely wait for everyone to file out the greenhouse door before burying a hand in her school skirt to hold her crotch. "Oh Merlin's beard!" She thought to her self as a short yet powerful spurt of her own making met her palm even through her underwear and skirt. She really wasn't going to make it was she? Finally everyone was off towards the castle and Hermione made her way to Hagrid's hut. It was a long, extremely damp hobble/jog. Upon reaching, and knocking on, Hagrid's front door she was greeted with the enormous bark of Fang. The shock sent another powerful spurt into her palm, which she hand now planted directly on her panty clad crotch under her skirt. There was now a rivulet of urine centimeters from reaching her sock on her left leg. Still no Hagrid. Hermione knocked again another bark, for which she was ready for this time, but no answer. She was sweating profusely now. So she decided to ditch her school robe. Bad idea! Taking the pressure of her crotch was the final straw. Hermione was out of time. Now constantly losing short powerful bursts of pee into her underwear and down her legs, she dropped her robe and lifted her skirt. Heading for Hagrid's garden completely exposed from the waste down save for her knickers, which were from the "sexy" end of Hermione's drawer but still covered the parts they were supposed to fully. Really the only thing thing slightly risque about was that they had only a single string of hot pink elastic on each side connecting the not quite baby blue but definitely not royal blue cotton of the front and back front and back. If anybody were to look her direction they'd have seen more of teenage Hermione than anyone ever had. Not to mention her light yellow water beginning to spill down her long, naturally tan legs. Upon reaching the garden, Hermione was in full fountain mode. It was really happening! She was wearing herself. When she felt her toes get warm she decided she better try to save her shoes a bit and squatted. Not much of a squat really. Honestly she had just stuck out her bum enough for her powerful flow, broken into about 4 streams of different size, to go straight through her panties to the dirt instead of straight down her legs. It still went down her legs but not nearly as much. Red faced and panting Hermione emptied her aching bladder. Excitement was definitely evident now. Hermione should be distraught. Her panties are soaked to the elastic in the front and more than halfway up her bum but instead of tears welling in her eyes something else was welling deep inside her. As her flow stopped, and all that was left was multiple tendrils running down each leg with the occasional drip from her saturated undergarments, Hermione noticed one thing. She was hot, but not from the sun that was overhead. She an uncontrollable desire to touch herself. Before she succumbed though, she thought back to Modern Witch. A naughty grin formed in her lips. Tucking her skirt under her left arm, she used her right to pull out her wand. With a shaky voice Hermione said "Vibradora!" The tip of her wand became thicker and it sprang to life. Vibrating so hard she almost dropped it. She took a quick look around to make she was still alone before placing the wand between her legs. Not even bothering to insert it inside herself or underwear, Hermione held it firm and begin to slowly gyrate her hips so the practically dancing wand rubbed gently up and down her her delicate opening. It only took about 10 seconds of what could only be described as humping for Hermione to reach her first climax. It was absolute bliss! She began to shudder head to toe, her face got redder, and her panties wetter. (How was that even possible?!) At first the only sound she made was you might call a squeak as she bit her lip. Giving into the sensation though, Hermione began to moan "mmm mmm uhh ugh ohh ohhh Oh Merlin!" "Hermione, tha' you?" It was Hagrid! "Yes,Hagrid, it's me! I'll be right there!" "Shit!" Hermione thought to herself, reverting back to her muggle vocabulary for a second. She had to think fast. The clean up spell she needed had escaped the usually infallible Hermione Granger. What could she tell Hagrid? The truth? He would definitely keep her secret. Especially if she were to shed some tears which were already on the way out of frustration over the lost spell. What's that? Excitement again? Somebody knowing what she had just done to her knickers, well one of the things she did to them, gave her more pleasure than it should have. Merlin's beard, she had to tell him now. Having already replaced her skirt to it's rightful place, she quickly did the same to her wand and went to meet Hagrid at the front of his hut. Sniffling Hermione said "hello Hagrid." "Hermione, wha's wrong? Yes alrigh'?" "I.. I've had an accident." She responded. "Accident? Yer not hurt are ye?" Hagrid asked dropping the crossbow he'd had on his shoulder and approaching Hermione. "I'm fine Hagrid. It.. it wasn't that type of accident." Her stomach was was doing backflips. Was she really about to do this? "Whew, ye scared me, ye did! Sounded like a dementor had got ya. All that moaning. What's happened then?" It was now or never. She may never have this opportunity again. Hermione, who had already been nervously clutching at her skirt, grabbed it by the hem and lifted it to her waist. "Hermione! The bloody hell are ye doin'?" Hagrid exclaimed, as he started to hide his face. Too late. He had seen what she had intended him to. "Oh! Oh, Hermione I see. Cover yourself. How'd this happen?" Hermione dropped her skirt and frantically said, "I drank a lot of pumpkin juice, then I studied all through break, and then I was doing all the work for Ron and Harry in herbolo-" "Easy now, easy now. I think I got the picture. But what are you doing down here?" Hagrid asked. "I knew I couldn't make it back up to the castle, but... You weren't home" she said tearfully and only half acting. "Hermione, I'm sorry but I don't know what I can do for ye now. You know I'm not supposed ter do magic, or I'd clean ye up." "It's ok Hagrid, I know the proper spells. Could.. could this be our secret though?" She asked. " O 'course" replied Hagrid. Putting his enormous finger to his lips. "Shhh" and he winked. Hermione smiled, wiped her tears, scooped up her school robe, and turned toward the castle. "Oh, and Hermione?" She turned to look at him once more. "Keep yer skirt down, eh?" Hermione giggled and went about her way. Still squelching in her shoes. Her excitement fully returning now. She was going to have a lot of fun with the flustered look on Hagrid's reddened face tonight. Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed. You tell me, shall we continue with the take of Hermione's sexuality? Do dig further into what excites her? Will she fullfil her desire to be watched? Will she find more excitement in humiliating others? Or have you heard enough?

Peeing in the rain She’s peeing in the rain Oh, what a glorious feeling Just peeing, peeing in the rain! Watch Alisha pee in her pants in the rain as cars zoom by in the background in this sexy and daring video. After wetting her jeans, she shows off her visibly soaked panties, then masturbates in her wet clothing.