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Found 8 results

  1. Boys, did you ever need to pee badly at school so you were going to get the bathroom pass, but another boy got the bathroom pass first, and got to pee first before you, and after the boy was done peeing in the bathroom with the bathroom pass did you make it to the bathroom in time?
  2. Heyy everyone!! I just got in from an 8.5-hour drive for work, so if my writing is a bit lacking, I apologize in advance! During these long hours, however, I tackled a new pee challenge to stave off the boredom and wanted to share the experiences while the excitement is fresh! So I woke up about an hour earlier than I intended this morning. Typically, I would hop into the shower pretty quickly and relieve myself for the morning there, but I had an idea: From the moment of awakening until I checked into my motel room, I would only pee in unconventional places...and never in the same place twice. I guess showers aren't technically a "conventional place" to release one's bladder, but I find it so dang satisfying that I do it every morning (confession time haha) and figured it'd be cheating to start off my new challenge that way. I was really bursting for a pee, so I opted for perhaps the simplest and easiest "unconventional pee" on the books: I dashed to my living room, slipped off my panties, spread my legs a little more than shoulder-width apart, closed my eyes, and relaxed. Within seconds, the morning silence turned into a crisp patter, which swiftly transformed into a forceful cascade. My eyes still shut, my lips curled into an impish smile with satisfaction as I let out a relieved sigh. I really had to go. I moved my feet together and shot a glance down as a warm rush began to encompass my feet. A very sizeable puddle was forming on my wood floor (I made an immature joke to myself about morning wood) and streaks of stray urine streamed down my legs. Apparently, my floor isn't entirely level because a small stream began to shoot off to the right of the puddle. Who'd've thought pee could be a handy architectural tool? At last, the contents of my bladder diminished to the last few drops, some of which spurted to the floor, the rest to my legs. I recognized the error of my ways as I went to fetch some paper towels...leaving a trail of pee foot prints on my path to the kitchen. Still enjoying my nakedness from the waist down, I grabbed a wad of towels, wiped my self down, and retraced my tracks to the formidable puddle. Then I ran a quick mop around the area, hopped into the shower, and prepared for my trek, feeling satisfied with my first wizz of the day. I donned a black skirt today to facilitate my unwillingness to use the facilities, and hopped into my car for the long journey, gently sipping from my water bottle. About an hour down the road, I still wasn't feeling any urge at all, so I began drinking a little more ambitiously. Another hour passed and, right about the time my gas tank was hitting E, my bladder was hitting F. I had been mildly fidgeting in my seat for a few minutes and was thankful for a pit stop. I pulled into a dumpy little gas station and was quickly thankful for my pact of unconventional peeing. It seemed like the kind of place you'd catch 15 diseases just from touching the restroom door handle. As I lifted the nozzle and put it into my gas tank, I pondered my options. It was fairly deserted, so I had a fair amount of freedom. The botanical coverage was somewhat lacking, so I couldn't run off into the woods to pee--which would've been fairly boring anyway. My options were either to pee at my car or around the side of the building. I started to make my way around the building when it occurred to me, There's no one here. Just pee from your car! I felt a surge of excitement with the thought. But what if someone drives up while I'm peeing? I shot back. You're two hours from home. Even if someone catches you, they won't recognize you. I retorted. Yeah, but what if someone catches me..? My argument against this undertaking was buckling. I quickly walked back to my car and made sure nobody from inside could make out what was going on. Between the numerous large advertisements in the window and where I was parked, I discerned that I could occlude line of sight from both the convenience store and the road if I opened my driver and rear passenger door. All the while, my bladder was urging me to quickly determine my course of action. Okay...You win. I conceded to myself. You won't regret it. I snarkily assured myself. I took one last glance around to ensure there were no unexpected audience members for the show. It was just as clear as when I pulled in. Tally ho. I opened both of my doors, lifted my skirt, and sat on the frame of the car. I nervously slid my panties to the side, my heart pounding furiously, the thrill egging me on. I continued nervously glancing around, certain some massive procession would determine that was the precise time to come gas up. Thankfully, no such procession materialized--only the occasional car shot down the road, oblivious to the woman baring her nether region to the gas pump in front of her. I had some difficulty getting the waterworks flowing as the hot humidity bore down on me, feeling like a thousand boiling oceans under the anxiety. I cursed softly as some urine gently shot askew, dampening my groin and streaking down to my butt. This was enough, however, to get the juices moving. I adjusted myself as the spurt evolved into a steady stream, drenching the pavement beneath me. My muscles were trembling from nervousness, excitement, and because of my awkward position. Once the stream was adequately established, I glanced around again. Still clear. Suddenly...THUD. Startled, my heart and I simultaneously jumped, and while I thankfully managed to avoid peeing all over myself, my stream faltered. It was just the gas pump as it finished filling my tank. I sighed with relief, adrenaline coursing through my body even more rapidly than the urine had been coursing from my urethra. After a moment, I managed to relax enough to begin peeing again. By the last few spurts, I had left a very respectable puddle, which pooled satisfyingly and streamed away slowly. My cover still not blown, I reached into my car, grabbed a tissue, and wiped myself clean. I replaced my panties and rubbed some sanitizer onto my hands as I admired my puddle and its many proud streaks. My heart was still pounding as I leaped into my car and sped off, nobody the wiser. Now I was feeling really confident. Perhaps too confident. For the sake of making good time on my trip, it took every ounce of will I had to not feverishly down water in anticipation of the next adventure. Despite this incredible (if I may say so myself) display of self-control, I had enough residual fluid working its way through my kidneys that I only made it about another hour down the road before pit stop #2 became a necessity. Okay...admittedly, I probably could've delayed a little longer, but I was excited to go for round 2 . This time, I pulled into a McDonalds...that wasn't quite as vacant as the gas station. This is going to be a challenge. I parked my car and made my way in, surveying the area. There were probably about 6 or 7 people, not counting employees, suggesting that perhaps trying anything outside was a bad idea. I briskly walked to the bathrooms and pushed open the door to the women's room, hoping it was maybe single occupancy and I could just pee in the sink or something (I wasn't about to give up so easily in the face of adversity!). To my disappointment, it was not. There were two stalls, a trash can, and a sink. I thought about pulling the trash can into the stall and peeing into it, but that seemed somewhat like cheating, so I opted against it. Hmm...What about a floor drain? Nope. It was in the middle of the bathroom. I'd be flashing anyone walking through the door. Recognizing I didn't have any particularly good options there, I gently cracked open the door to take another look around. In doing so, I caught a glimpse of the men's room sign. A light bulb went off in my head. Even using the stall in there wouldn't be a conventional pee. The bathroom entrances were offset into a little cove, with walls that occluded the doors from the rest of the restaurant. I slowly crept out to see if I could sneak my way in (praying I wasn't going to walk in on some guy at the urinal). There were several people sitting within sight of the cove, but they were pretty distracted. But what if I walk in on some guy peeing?! Again, my heart was racing. I compromised. I went back into the women's room, where I could wait without looking out-of-place to other restaurant goers. I stood by the door and listened for the men's room door. Several minutes passed, during which I heard nothing. If anyone's in there, he's taking a crap and I can slip out unnoticed. I exited the women's room again and nervously glanced from the cove. Nobody was paying much attention, so I swiftly and confidently (only on the outside. Inside, I was terrified) pushed my way into the men's room, half expecting to find a guy, penis-in-hand, with a look of shock on his face as I barged in. Thankfully, I did not. It was empty. The butterflies in my stomach were violently trying to rip their way out of my abdominal wall and pure epinephrine jolted through me. I swear, my heart rate probably set a world record. I quickly made my way toward the stall, longingly eying the urinal and I passed. I closed the stall door behind me, silently sighing with immense relief as I clicked the lock. As I turned to face the toilet, my anxious euphoria was dampened slightly--the toilet was filthy. It was covered in urine and there were splatters on the floor. Cautiously, I raised my skirt up, pulled my panties to the side, and semi-straddled the porcelain with my butt hanging over it, afraid to let anything touch it. Again, my muscles were trembling--though much more this time. Admittedly, as I began to pee, I contributed a fair amount to the urine on the toilet seat (oops! ). Relief swept over me as I emptied my bladder, vigorously tinkling into the water below. It was strange to get such a surge of excitement from something so mundane as a regular toilet! Context is everything, I guess! As I was wiping, my heart surged again and my eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as I heard the door open. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP--No--BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, my heart raced so loudly I thought for sure he would hear it. Still hovering my butt over the toilet seat, toilet paper in hand, I barely dared to breathe as I heard this mystery man rustling his pants at the urinal. The sound of urine striking porcelain. I'd've probably been turned on, had I not been terrified. I'm certain he only peed for a normal amount of time, but it seemed to me as though his bladder was endless. I began to think I would grow old and die in this men's room stall, awaiting his conclusion. At last, however, my fears were assuaged when, somehow, the sound of him spitting and the flush of the urinal were not drowned out by the ferocious pounding of my cardiovascular system. He spent a few brief seconds at the sink and I heard the door open...then close. I stood there for a few moments, absolutely petrified. Suddenly, my thoughts burst into a frenzy. I finished wiping, didn't even remember to flush or wash my hands, and dashed for the door, afraid someone would walk in. Thankfully, nobody did. I burst through the door much more forcefully than I had intended. This attracted the attention of a lady at a table near the restrooms who gave me a puzzled look, which transitioned into a dirty look when she realized I was emerging from the men's room. I just sped past, avoiding eye contact, and jumped into my car. It wasn't until several miles down the road that I finally calmed down and remembered I forgot to wash up. More hand sanitizer. And a lot of AC--I had worked up a bit of a sweat. After the anxiety subsided, I began laughing with hysterical euphoria. I did it! I used a men's room in a crowded area AND at the same time as a guy! Also striking to me, was that, because I was like 3 hours away from home, there were virtually no consequences. Sure, the woman caught me, but what was she going to do? We'll never see each other again! Seeing how crazy long this recount is becoming, I'll quickly summarize the more mundane ones (or ones similar to stories I've written in the past) and then skip to the final one. Another hour and a half in, I peed into a gas station restroom trash can (yeah, I know, I considered this cheating earlier...but after McDonalds, I was willing to tame it down a bit). Two hours after that, I did the classic cup-pee in my car at a roadside rest. Finally, after about 8.5 hours of travel, a little longer than anticipated, I pulled into the motel. During the last half hour, I began really piling on the fluids again, so by the time I pulled in, I really had to go--bad. I wasn't allowed a trip to the ladies' room until I had checked into my room, however. I parked and virtually ran inside, hoping to work through the process as quickly as possible. Thankfully, I didn't have to wait in a line. The guy checking me in was very friendly. I probably seemed like an anti-social jerk because I was focusing more on not peeing all over the floor, or at the very least, dancing like an idiot in front of him, clutching my lady bits, than on friendly chit-chat. Hurriedly, I thanked him as I grabbed my key and raced off. Not even bothering to grab my luggage, I began searching for my room. En route, however, I found a little cove that I assumed formerly hosted a vending machine. As I shot past it, I turned around, considering, Why waste a perfectly good bladder of pee? You haven't checked into your room yet. Forget the luxury of a toilet. I glanced around to ensure nobody was loitering around. Nope. I ducked into the cove, where I proceeded to fully and properly wet myself. No skirt-raising, no panties pulled to the side, just torrents of pee rushing down my legs, soaking my socks and shoes, and a steady trickle straight to the ground, forming yet another large puddle. After the encounter at McDonalds, this seemed like child's play and came to me easily. Within a long few seconds, I was thoroughly drenched from the waist down. I giggled a little as I admired my puddle, then raced off to find my room, the urine quickly cooling in the night breeze, chilling my legs ever so slightly. I found my room and, still wearing my urine-soaked clothes, lugged all my stuff in, enjoying the dampness. Without even changing, I laid a towel on the chair and set up my laptop to write this. Now...if you'll excuse me, I have some cleaning up to do and some tingling to tend to downstairs I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did!!
  3. I have kind of a fabric clothing omo fetish, as well as plushie, and soft clothing. I think it started with my best friend in sixth grade I'll share that later. I love dried fabric that has been wet on it's like the phremones. There was like this study where people sniffed shirts of the opposite sex and it found out who they would more likely be attracted to. So my wife is like you can't all have that just under the bed in a bug out bag. I had a thai mattress and a few blankets and outfits. So I ended up getting a 6 foot teddy bear, clearing the bedroom closet, Putting it in there with my bug out bag, all of our assorted cosplay things, and putting a exhuast fan in there that shoots outside. Fun fact I'm a germophobe. So thats our omo room, or the crib or whatever you want to call it. It's a place where we can explore. I enjoy just decompressing in there thats my "experience" I'm somewhat open about how I feel about the topic, my wife is much more reserved as she only does this for me. The whole what would people think think thing scares her. I dunno the joys to being a young homeowner. So three questions anyone else have a fabric/phermone based attraction? How much foot traffic do you have to avoid.... how much to hide? Do you guys cowet or just solo?
  4. 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.
  5. Heyyy everyone!! Got another story for ya! This one's pretty long, but it's a 2-for-1! If you want to skip the build up and get straight to the pee, go to paragraph 5 for the first part and paragraph 7 for the second. Hope you enjoy!! Earlier this week, I went out of town for an event. It wasn't far enough to justify the cost of flying, but with a 8-hour drive one way, it was plenty far enough to enjoy some pee fun along the way! I made it to the event without incident, but the same can't quite be said for the return . Needless to say, after the drive there and the event itself, I was pretty toasted by the end of the day, so I checked into a motel and stayed the night. I'm not much of a morning person, so I figured, with a day off from work and some time in a fresh city, what's the rush? I slept in and enjoyed some time around town before I dragged myself back to the car at about 4PM. Both for health purposes and the obvious pleasures that coincide, I try to keep pretty thoroughly hydrated throughout the day. Today was no exception. I had run by a gas station during my excursion downtown and filled one of those "Big Gulp" cups to the rim with water and had been nursing it throughout the day. I knew I'd have to stop a few times on my way back, but that didn't bother me too much. I made a quick preemptive run to the bathroom and, with all of my things packed into the back seat and my "Big Gulp" cup by my side, I set off for the long journey home. One thing I didn't account for: Rush hour. I'm not accustomed to taking days off in the middle of the week, and rush hour isn't a huge deal where I live, so it didn't even occur to me to consider other people's commutes home. An hour in, and I was totally gridlocked on the highway. Brilliant. To make matters worse (or better? I guess it depends on your perspective ), I was gradually becoming aware of my increasing need to urinate. I wasn't about to explode just yet, but I knew I needed to find a solution--and quickly. I glanced around nervously. Moving wasn't realistic at this point, let alone getting to an exit and finding a place to relieve myself. I comforted myself with delusions that this traffic jam may clear up any time and that, if I just managed to distract myself, I'd be fine. I cranked up my radio and began singing along with it. Boston, anyone? I was going to be okay. I glanced over to the car next to me and saw the driver chuckling at me singing to myself. I grinned at her and carried on, knowing I needed to distract myself. The problem here being that, by focusing on my need to distract myself, I emphasized my growing need to pee that much more. "It's okay," I told myself, "You don't need to go that badly just yet." Another 20 minutes passed and we'd barely made any headway. Every time we crept forward, my heart would leap, only to tumble back down into my depths of my stomach when we stopped again. It seemed, according to the radio, there was a minor accident ahead that was slowing things down even more. Little did they know, there was a serious possibility of a different kind of accident occurring between my legs. By now I'd abandoned any hope of distracting myself. I was swaying back and forth and fidgeting, the urge to pee feeling pretty severe by now. I was frantically looking around for solutions. Sure, I could just wet myself in my car, but as much as I love my fetish, I love the condition of my car more. With that possibility ruled out, there wasn't much left. I was foolish enough to wear jeans today instead of a skirt, meaning that if I stepped out of my car, any wetting would be blatantly obvious to all who sat idly around me. Similarly, I couldn't exactly bare my lady bits for all of the commuters to watch cascades of urine gush from them. That left one option. My eyes fell onto my "Big Gulp" cup as my hand found its way to my crotch. I didn't like the idea of attempting this in my car, but I had no other option. I took my hand from my crotch and grasp the cup. Shoot. It still had a little water. I briefly considered chucking the water out the window, but wanted to hold off in case I needed to dispose of my pee without suspicion. Nothing else to do, I chugged the last little bit. By now, it was urgent. I bobbed back and forth as I undid my seatbelt. I quickly glanced around to ensure there were no tractor trailers or other tall vehicles around me--as badly as I had to go, I wasn't about to give a free show (not that I really had a choice, looking back now). Hallelujah. Only sedans surrounded me. I hurriedly undid my jeans and tried to discreetly pull them down. This was going to be a challenge. Maybe if I removed my shoes? Just then, the woman behind me honked. I jumped, startled, nearly peeing myself right then. We had gained a whopping 10 feet. I pulled up behind the car in front of me and set the hand brake. My hand firmly in place upon my nether regions, I frantically took off my shoes and tossed them into the passenger seat. Next, the jeans came off, revealing my blue panties. I seriously hoped nobody could see what I was doing, but I didn't care enough at the time to check. With every second that passed by, my bladder ballooned that much more, threatening to soil my car. Next came the panties, revealing my bare downstairs for anyone who happened to have a tall enough ride. I grabbed the cup and tried to position it. How exactly was I going to manage this? The steering wheel was proving problematic. What I would've given at this moment to have a penis. In my frustration, I glanced up to make sure the traffic hadn't moved. Thankfully, it was stationary. I looked back down at my predicament. "Okay," I muttered, "Let's try this." I slid forward a bit, getting my butt off of the seat, and pressing my abdomen against the steering wheel. "This is gonna have to work." I said at last. I positioned the cup beneath where I hoped my urethra would spill, and let loose. Within about a second, the floodgates had burst open and a rush of pee shot (thankfully) straight into the cup, pattering loudly as it accumulated at the bottom. "Oh my gosh," I exclaimed with relief as the cup grew heavier with my pee. It was a really bizarre sensation to be sitting there, surrounded by so many people, peeing into a cup, of all things, in my car. I closed my eyes and put my head back as the spurt continued below. After a moment, the cup was getting heavy enough that I had to grab the bottom of it with my free hand. It felt warm and enticing in my grip. I smiled as the last few dribbles emerged and found their way to the steamy pool below. It was then I remembered I was still supposed to be driving. I glanced up nervously. Thankfully, the traffic still hadn't budged. Unfortunately, I hadn't thought ahead to the toilet paper predicament. Fortunately, I wore panties that day and could let them sop up what remained. I cautiously placed the cup back into its holder and admired my handywork as I pulled my panties up and dabbed myself dry. There was still quite a bit of space in the cup, but the pee was pretty clear, meaning I could probably dispose of it without too much suspicion, should the need arise. I nervously glanced outside my car again, but thankfully everyone was totally oblivious, playing on their phones or fidgeting around with papers. I didn't bother putting my jeans back on, figuring I'd need to pee again before getting out of this mess of traffic. Instead, I covered my lap with them, obscuring my nearly-nude lower half in case any tall vehicles passed me. It turned out this was a wise move, as I had to use the cup several times again before getting out of that jam. Thankfully, I only needed to dump it out my window once. After tacking about 2 hours onto my drive, I finally managed to get out of that traffic fiasco (lesson learned for future trip planning). Much of the rest of the trip was fairly uneventful. Despite the fond feelings I have developed for it by then, I disposed of my cup at my next stop. All of my efforts to relieve myself were done at gas stations and rest stops from that point forward, but my last one was particularly notable. It was 1AM. I was about an hour from home and nobody was on the road. I had enough pee that I could go, but it wasn't super urgent. Regardless, by this point I was excited about my pee endeavors of the day, but totally mind-numbed and frazzled from the drive. I was exhausted, so when I saw a rest stop by the side of the road, I took the opportunity. I wanted to do something naughty--anything. It was deserted and it didn't seem like anyone would be making any surprise visits...soooo...why not pop into the men's room and give it a go? I did a quick walk around the stop to make sure there wasn't anybody who I might've overlooked. The coast was clear. I made my way to the door and stood outside. This would be my first time using a multi-occupancy men's room and, even though I knew the probability of someone walking in on me was next to naught, I still felt a jolt of adrenaline. My heart surged as I pushed open the door. The light flicked on and revealed several urinals and several stalls, opposing a row of sinks. It was cleaner than I was anticipating, especially compared to the single-occupancy men's room I've used at a gas station near my home. I felt a sense of urgency, not to pee, but to hurry, just in case anybody happened upon me. My heart pounded in my chest as I considered where I would pee. I could use a stall in any old bathroom, so I didn't want to do that. I'm still not confident enough in my skills to attempt a urinal (someday). I scanned the room before me, with my eyes ultimately landing on a floor drain in the middle of the bathroom. Perfect. I quickly fumbled to get my lower clothing off, taking care not to step onto the floor with my socks (I shudder to think of what bacterial horrors lie there). I shuddered with excitement as I set my clothes onto the paper towel dispenser and made my way, butt-naked, to the floor drain. I squatted over it and noted that I was trembling as I attempted to position myself (funny how such a simple thing can cause such excitement!!). Finally, I let 'er rip! Here I was, squatting right in front of a bunch of urinals, leaking my bladder into a floor drain. I giggled with delight and tried, with no success, to calm down my trembling. I felt a cool spatter bouncing back from the drain cover and showering my thighs. I adjusted to alleviate this, missing the drain a bit in the process, sending a bit of pee spurting outward and forming a small puddle on the floor. Unfortunately, the last little bit came to a dribbly end far too soon. I stood up to grab some toilet paper and laughed when I caught a glance of myself in the mirror, my naked vulva dripping with pee, contrasting the men's toilets in the background. I'm not gonna lie, I felt a small and strange sense of pride for being there (girl power?). I retrieved the toilet paper, wiped myself clean, including my thighs, and stood once more before the mirror. I knew I should be quick, but I wanted to savor the image just a bit longer (really mature, I know). I fiddled with myself very briefly for good measure, then put my clothes on and washed up. Drunk with triumphant delirium, I pointed at the urinals as I left and proclaimed, "Soon!" I left the bathroom, looking back at the "Men" sign on my way out. The cool evening breeze hugged me as I trod back to my car. Despite being very tired by that point, the excitement carried me the rest of the way home.
  6. Hello everybody! I have been watching the site for a very long time and, as an avid omorashi lover, i have to say that it way exceeded my expectations, keep up the exceptional job! The desire to create this topic emerged from a dirty little secret my girlfriend shared with me: Now that we are in the winter season, her room usually reaches a little colder temepratures at nights. Therefore, before going to bed she wears a thin sanitary pad and if she needs to pee during the night, she just wets herself! Needless to see, this got me really excited (and aroused, but thats another story) and i think that every fellow omorashi lover understands the way i feel. So, do you wet yourself on bed when your room is cold? Please feel free to post your stories, ideas and experiences!
  7. Hey DL's! So you may or may not have heard of a new social app called simply "Rooms". It is created by Facebook (although it has almost zero association with it) and is really just a chat room where members can chat about a common interest. It sounded intruding and I've been exploring it all day, and it's quite fun to meet others. Naturally, I eventually wondered if there was an ABDL or diaper themed Room, but there is no way to properly search for these Rooms as it's purely an "invite only" chat room service. I tried searching google for one, but as its relatively new, I had no such luck finding one. So, I decided to create my own! You can share text, images, and videos, though I would like for it to remain clean! It seems like a pretty nifty idea for fellow ABDLs to stay in touch, and a cool way to share things about diapers in a casual way. I don't know how well it will work in the long term, but if anyone would like to try it out, they would be very much welcomed! It's by Facebook, but there is absolutely no linking to your facebook account in any way. It's supposedly completely anonymous, although I do know some people have trust issues with these sort of things, especially with Facebook. And that's fine, I get that! But for those who may be interested, I think this could be a really cool thing to try out! Let me know what you think! Oh, and to join the Room, you need the "invite" which is just a QR code that you have to take a picture of. I think it's only available on the iOS App Store for now as well.. Sorry android friends :(
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