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View File Wet Skirt Wearing my cute little skirt I dance and wiggle around needing to relieve myself so badly. I keep holding it teasing you. I'm having fun teasing you in the skirt but the urge to go is too strong. Unable to hold it in you see it tricking our from between my legs when I bend over. The warm liquid darkening my pink panties. You can hear it trickling onto the floor as I show you beneath my skirt up close and you watch it run down my legs to the puddle on the floor. I splash in it with my little feet as more trickles down my legs, Submitter melikai Submitted 01/17/2020 Category Desperation Clothing  

This is the first omorashi story I'm sharing here. As my username suggests, it involves a gorgeous woman doing a poo in her skirt - and a wee, too. Tara Iskan looked in the bathroom mirror and stroked her flowing black hair. She was gorgeous, and she knew it. She was dressed the part, too, in her favourite pleated blue skirt. She and her boyfriend Garin made such an elegant couple - and they would make such a good impression on his business colleagues when they arrived at his formal event that evening! She trembled in excitement at the thought of impressing everyone there - though it was a little vain to say so, she was sure that she would be the hottest woman there, and Garin most likely the hottest man, too. There was just one issue. She hadn't done a poo in a couple of days, and while she had felt fine setting off, by the time they got to the rest area she was feeling a little uncomfortable. When she had gone to the toilets, though, they were in such a disgusting state that she couldn't bring herself to use them. Painful as it would be, she would just have to hold it until she got there, and then avail herself of the much more sanitary facilities. She strode out of the toilets to meet her boyfriend. "How were the toilets?" he asked. "The men's were really gross." "Oh, horrible," she said. "I couldn't bear to use them." "So you're going to set off without having used the toilet?" he asked. "Are you sure you can hold it?" Tara laughed. "Are you implying that I'm going to have an accident? I'm 24 years old. Don't be ridiculous." "Well, not necessarily," he said. "But every woman has her limit, and there could be bad traffic thanks to the flooding." "I'm not going to have an accident," she said. "I'm not a little baby." "My mother once ended up wetting her skirt on a road trip, and she was 36," said Garin. "But if you're sure you can hold it, come on." "Yes, I'm sure I can hold it," she said, impatiently. ***** "Um...Garin..." Tara said, gently rubbing her aching abdomen. "Can we stop at the next chance of a toilet? I'm not sure I can hold it." Garin sighed. "What did I tell you?" he said, looking at the traffic ahead. "We're going to be diverted onto a small road thanks to the floods, and there aren't any rest stops for several kilometres. I'm afraid you'll just have to hold it." Tara winced and shifted in her seat. Her bowels were aching for release, and her bladder was swelling from the coffee she'd had earlier, too. If it wasn't for those fucking floods, she could have easily held it until they got there. Now she was worrying about a far more imminent flood exploding into her skirt. The thought of arriving at the business event in a soiled skirt was just unspeakably humiliating, never mind her poor boyfriend having to scrub out his car. Would their relationship even survive it? And all because she didn't want to use a filthy toilet...it was almost enough to make her cry. But she could hold it. She would hold it. Her white knickers were still spotless, and she hadn't even slipped a fart, though it would have relieved the unbearable pain in her bowels. She just couldn't risk the chance that she would lose control if she let one go. Straining her muscles as hard as she could, she pulled her phone out of her skirt pocket and searched for methods to help women control their bladder and bowels when they couldn't go. She saw some advice suggesting to think of something else other than her urge, and she tried to focus on how she would impress her boyfriend's colleagues with her beauty...beauty untarnished by having disgraced herself. She managed to suppress the urge a little, but she had to keep on clenching her muscles, and they were starting to tire. If this traffic jam didn't end soon, there was going to be trouble. Very messy trouble. The thought of soiling herself had been unthinkable 2 hours earlier, but now it seemed not only possible, but likely. 2 days of poo were pushing hard against her anus, and it wouldn't be long before she gave in. As for her bladder, she held herself with 1 hand to try to reduce the pain a little, but it was still getting worse every minute. She had to hold it just a few more minutes. Just a few more minutes, and then they could find somewhere to stop... 30 minutes later, they had progressed a little, but were still stuck in slow-moving traffic with no toilets in sight. Tara's face was racked with anguish as she mustered all the strength she had to avoid an accident. They were supposed to have arrived over an hour ago...she could have been in that toilet and found relief, instead of struggling on the brink of disaster in the car. Her bottom was moist with sweat from straining to contain the poo, and she was frankly impressed with herself that her knickers were still clean. She crossed her legs and rocked back and forth in her seat. "Is there anywhere we can pull over?" she asked, tears of pain coming to her eyes. "I really, really can't hold it anymore...I'm trying so hard not to have an accident, but I just can't wait much longer..." "I'm sorry, there really isn't," said Garin. "Hold it as long as you possibly can, but if you end up having an accident, it's not your fault. You've held it for hours." "Thanks, I'll try," she said, squirming in her seat. Her boyfriend had given her permission to have an accident if she couldn't hold it. It was so undignified, but at the same time a little kinky. But she would try to hold it as long as she possibly could. "Fuck...uh..." she said, moaning from the pain in her bladder and bowels. "I'm so sorry about the language, I just can't take the pain..." "I don't mind," he said. "You're brave to have held it so long. Hopefully we won't be too much longer now." Tara clenched her muscles one more time and prepared to hold it for the rest of the trip. It wouldn't be too long now. They weren't that far, if she could just endure a little longer...Sweat glistened on her face. She had to be strong. She had to hold it. The traffic finally started to move, but Tara could feel the poo moving in her bowels, too. She strained and strained and barely managed to contain it from pushing out. She had been holding it for 3 hours, and she was exhausted. Another few minutes was all she could manage. Her bladder felt about to explode into her knickers, and her bowels were suffering even greater pain, if it were possible. She pressed her legs together and breathed deeply. "It's really not too far now," said Garin. "You've been so brave to hold it. Just a few minutes more." Tara felt a little confidence. She was going to hold it. She was somehow going to arrive in a clean, dry skirt. But she had to get to a toilet as soon as possible, or she was going to have an accident, even if her life depended on it. She tried so hard not to think about the toilet, since it only made the agony so much worse. But she was so close now. She just had to stay strong for a few more minutes. She could see the hotel where the event was being held...there would be toilets...but she couldn't think about them. She closed her eyes and focused on controlling her muscles. She was going to hold it. It was going to be alright. Garin pulled the car into the parking space. "You know, I'm really impressed in you, Tara," he said. "I didn't expect you to hold it." "I'm a strong woman," she said. "But I have to find a toilet...now...or I'm going to have an accident." Almost to prove her point, as she staggered out of the car clutching her bladder, she helplessly slipped a loud fart. "Fuck, fuck..." she said. "I've got to go...now...where are the toilets..." "They're in there," Garin said, pointing towards a building on the other side of the car park. Tara dashed off immediately, clutching her bladder with one hand and her bottom with the other. As she saw the sign for the ladies' room, she felt a spurt of wee moisten her knickers. She just couldn't contain it anymore, and the sight of the toilets being too near was just too much. Blundering towards the toilets, she moaned in dismay at the sight of another older woman waiting in line. "Please, I really can't hold it, I have to go now..." she pleaded, trembling from the pain. "Please let me go first..." "No," said the woman. "I've had 2 children. If I can wait my turn, so can you." Tara whimpered as another fart ripped through her skirt. She leaned against the wall, her legs quaking as her muscles neared total exhaustion. The cubicle door opened, and the older woman stepped in. She lunged for the door, but stopped as she felt another hot spurt of wee soak her knickers. She was going to have an accident. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she felt the poo finally force itself through her anus. As spurts of urine gushed down her legs, she looked up to the sky and sobbed as she loaded her knickers with poo. She tried to stop the accident in progress as hard as she could, but the proximity to the toilet was just too much for her. A puddle of wee grew around her feet, and she felt the poo squelching around the seams of her knickers. This was the most humiliating day of her life. Garin came out of the men's toilets and came round to see his sobbing girlfriend. "Oh, Tara," he said, carefully embracing her while avoiding the puddle of wee. "You poor girl. I'm so sorry for you. You were so close." "I love you..." she said, her emotional state rather compromised. "You're so understanding...so many men would be angry..." "I'm not angry that you had an accident," he said. "You didn't mean it. Now let's see how bad it was." He lifted Tara's skirt and saw the bulging filth in her knickers. She'd totally lost control. Though he wanted to comfort his girlfriend, he felt more than a little aroused. "You'll have to throw those knickers away," he said. "Fortunately your skirt seems sort of alright." "Hopefully..." Tara said, sniffing. The older woman finally came out of the toilets. "Garin, is that your girlfriend?" she said. "She really can't control herself." Tara whimpered and traipsed into the toilets to clean herself up. She threw her ruined knickers away, and tried to clean up her skirt as best she could. Emerging from the toilets, she still smelt of wee and poo. Along with her face red from crying, it was obvious what had happened. "Come on in," said Garin, offering his hand. She gulped in anticipation of further humiliation as they entered the building. Sure enough, as if fate had ordained it, she tripped on a step and fell, her skirt flying up and revealing her naked groin to her boyfriend's colleagues. She wailed in abject humiliation as she tried to pick herself up. "Garin's girlfriend there soiled herself earlier," said the older woman. The colleagues burst out laughing. Tara turned her face to the wall and wished she was dead. "Hey, guys, calm down," said Garin. "Don't you see how horrible this is for her? She's my beautiful girlfriend, not a laughing stock. She's just had a very unlucky day. Come on, we're going somewhere private." Garin led Tara up to the room they had booked for the night. As soon as he shut the door, he opened his flies, revealing that he was very aroused. "You've had a bad day, but I want you to know that I love you," he said, slipping a condom onto his cock. "I actually thought it was cute when you had an accident. And now I'm going to make you feel like a very special girl." He pushed Tara down on the bed and started fingering her clitoris. She couldn't possibly resist it even if she wanted to, and was moaning in orgasm in a few minutes. He slid forward to kiss her lips, and slipped his cock into her vagina, which was tight and moist from her orgasm. He thrust harder into her than she had ever felt before. Maybe her accident really did turn him on. It was such an odd concept, but very lucky for her! He grunted in orgasm as he filled his condom. Tara was left breathless. It had been an awful day, but at least it had a very intense conclusion.

Preface: I’m pretty much writing this for my own enjoyment, really. I just want a fiction that ticks all my fetish boxes, which so far are rare on this forum as well as stories repositories. If you like the same things I do, hope you enjoy this story as well; and if you know of a similar fiction, please tell me! I might write more chapters for this story as well, if I have the time and the ideas. For now, enjoy the first chapter of a possible 3 chapters long series! __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Cindy has just finished her first college semester in the States. She’s an Asian foreign student, a cute, slim 5’8” girl with jet black long hair, currently living on her own in Chicago; her family isn’t the stereotypical crazy rich Asians, so all she can afford to stay at is a tiny apartment, shared with other students. For a while, Cindy has been craving for some privacy, specifically, to carry out her omorashi fetish. She loves, just like many other girls, to dress herself up in cute outfits, but only to soil it with pee. She loves that warmth of hot pee soaked clothing, especially in the cold winter of Chicago. Fed up with the winter, she wants an escape to somewhere warm, at least for a few weeks. Luckily, she has for herself her own car, and a driving license; and that means the whole America is open for her. And the first thought in Cindy’s mind was the warm beaches of Florida. She has been planning for this trip for a few weeks now: a slow road trip across the country, with nice scenery along the way, warm weather, warm sun… and warm pee. Yes, she finally has some private moment for herself, to satisfy her burning omorashi desire, far away from the dingy apartment and roommates. Just her alone, in the car, on empty highways, and clothes full of pee. Ever since in high school back in her home country, back when she had her own room and her parents often not at home for the weekends, she loved to play her little game called “sticky clothes”. That means, she would put on a nice outfit, and it would stay on for a day; no article removed for any reason. Yes, that includes using the toilet, for the duration. Well, maybe some exception: in case of urgent needs to go outside, or taking a poop, since she isn’t a fan of smelly, dirty poop stuck on her clothes. Now, Cindy has the perfect setup for her game, and it’s not limited to a day at most. She can stretch the game out for as long as she enjoys. Cindy already feels the sexual fire burning in her at the anticipation of the game. The last day before the trip starts, after packing all her summer clothes for the destination, Cindy has to choose her ‘sticky’ outfit for the three-day road trip. And for nostalgia sake, she went for the school uniform that she had packed from home: white long sleeved blouse, a blue and white striped tie, and knee length navy blue pencil skirt. Honestly, she packed it pretty much for the purpose of playing out her fetish dreams far from home. Putting it on, Cindy remembers of the times when she held her pee on purpose in school, and secretly wetting her skirt on the way home; she feels like peeing in her skirt right there and then, but knows better to save it for the trip. But with the freezing cold weather right now, that uniform alone isn’t exactly enough. Cindy paired it with her tight lycra shorts, underneath a pair of black tights; for footwear, she decided on some above ankle nylon socks, and her black flats that she wore to high school. A prim and proper outfit, not going to attract much attention on the road, at the same time makes her look like the cute high school self that she missed. Day 1 Cindy put on her "sticky" outfit at 6AM, knowing that this outfit is not coming off for the next three days fills her with excitement. She has already taken a dump before putting it on, so she wouldn’t have to remove it too soon, even just for a little while. Loading her bags into the trunk of her car, Cindy is ready for the road trip. Joining the still hectic traffic, Cindy slowly makes her way to the I-94. The first hour of the drive goes fine, save for the traffic; at least she doesn’t have her bladder distracting her. Soon enough, she left the city center, and starts driving through the suburb. It wasn’t long before she started feeling the slight tingle of her bladder. That’s when Cindy realized, she has forgotten breakfast over the excitement of the trip. She stopped at the nearest gas station, to first get herself a full tank before entering the I-65 highway, and to get something for the road. Cindy grabbed for herself a sandwich, a few small bags of chips, topped with a large iced coffee from the convenience store. She feels good knowing that people aren’t looking at her with strange eyes, they aren’t recognizing her outfit as a school uniform; she looks like a prim and proper businesswoman. Cindy paid for the food and got back to her car, not before she pounded the entire coffee in one go at the gas pump. An hour later, she has already got past the suburbs, and now entering the empty highway. She’s not in a hurry, she’s cruising slowly on the road, watching the empty fields and enjoying the fresh countryside air through the opened windows. The coffee made its way fast through her system, and is now pouring into her bladder. Cindy again isn’t worrying much, she has enough supplies to stay in the car till afternoon. Her bladder is now at a good 6/10, normally this would be when she goes to the washroom, but now for the next few days, the washroom would be her uniform. She gives her clit a quick rub in excitement at that thought. Cindy continues the drive for three hours, passing through rest stops and towns along the way. Her bladder seems to pang every time she sighted a rest stop, asking for a relief. Those little pangs, normally would make someone nervous, only gets her more excited. But soon, though her bladder is full, her stomach is empty again, and Cindy has to stop to get more food. She pulls into a rest stop in the middle of nowhere, and goes for the only McDonalds’ there. The moment she steps off her car into a pothole, she loses her balance, and right then a little spurt of pee escaped her urethra. Cindy feels a tiny coin size wet spot in her lycra undershorts, but quickly she resumes as normal, knowing that it’s fully covered by her tights and skirt. Walking into the McDonalds, she feels her bladder aching for relief with every step, but Cindy continues to walk straight, not fearing any leak. A few people inside the McDonalds’ gave her a stare; maybe they can tell she’s holding a tank full of pee under that uniform, but maybe they’re just wondering at the cute Asian girl in her formal looking attire. Getting herself a meal with large drink, Cindy left the restaurant quickly and back into her car. Suddenly her bladder gives a sharp spurt, maybe at the feel of the large Coke sloshing in her hand. Some pee came out, this time more that before. Cindy climbs into the car, but hitting the same pothole as before, and once again almost stumbled into her seat; her strained bladder couldn’t stand it, and gives out another spurt of urine. Luckily no one was around to see that. Cindy checks her thighs after getting seated, and it was more urine than she thought; it was already streaking past her knees, and sprayed some tiny dots onto her navy blue skirt. But it wouldn’t be visible unless she looks for it, her clothing was dark anyway. Cindy continues driving off in the noon sun, not caring about her bladder. She feels the rush of excitement every time she goes over a speed bump or even a pothole, as her bladder spurts more and more urine out. She simply doesn’t care, paying too much attention on her meal and the road. Her bladder is protesting against more fluid going into the stomach, but Cindy keeps taking large sips of the Coke. It’s demonstrating it’s protest by squeezing out even more urine. With the meal done, Cindy stops on the road side for a little, just to give a check on her outfit. By now, the back of her skirt was entirely soaked, clinging to her butts as she stands up; the front of it is having a few wet spots as well. Streaks of pee flow down her black tights, glistening in the sun, into her socks and flats. The car seat is also moist with pee; Cindy kind of forgot to plan for the car seat, but then she realized it was about time to get it washed anyway, she will give it a thorough clean when she’s home. Cindy now realizes that driving with a full bladder as distraction might be a bit dangerous, so she considered whether to just pee on the road side there before continues driving. She decided to do so after a quick mental coin flip. Sticking to her rules, nothing comes off even when she takes a piss, Cindy squats down behind the car’s door, and released her bladder through the back of her skirt. Old memories rushes back of her forcing pee through her clothes; having done this for long, Cindy doesn’t hesitate to pee through the tight under clothing and her skirt. She stands up, feeling pee dripping down her skirt, hitting the heels of her shoes. A few hours later in the car, it’s good to say that her wet skirt isn’t obvious anymore. The pee has spread from her butt up to sides of her thighs, and even a little bit up her white blouse, and instead of a full dark patch, it’s now just damp. Her shoes and socks didn’t take much damage save the minor drippings, but her tights was damp all the way down past her knees. “Feels just like back home”, she thought, and gives herself another quick rub through her sopping wet crotch. By now, it’s already 4pm, and her bladder has filled up again, not to bursting point but is full enough for a constant urge. Cindy was driving through a small town when she realized that, and can’t really get out of the car to pee like before. Instead of waiting till she gets out of town, she decides that she could just go right there, in the car. She soon hits a red light, and realizes it’s the perfect time. With an effortless push, her urethra releases a 10 second stream of pee into her skirt. This time round, the front of her skirt gets soaked as well, as more pee flows down her already damp tights, and some into her flats. It was so cathartic, peeing herself in the middle of traffic, not worrying about people she knows questioning her wet skirt. Her bladder wasn’t fully voided, but the light turned green, and Cindy continues driving. An hour later, a bit past 5pm, she is at the edge of Louisville, Kentucky. Cindy figures this is where she would stop for the night, and exits off the highway into the town. By now Cindy is already tired of driving all day long, so she looked up on Google Maps for a hotel to stay the night. She finds a cheap but not too shabby one not too far from where she’s at, and made her way there. Parking in the hotel’s lot, she stepped outside in the dusk, and examined her uniform. Her skirt was soaked thoroughly with pee, yet it wasn’t dripping wet, or glistening, it has semi dried up enough. The skirt is now completely in a darker shade, not a single dry spot left. Now walking, she could feel her tights being the same, damp and sticking to her legs, all the way from the waist to her feet. Her white blouse, tucked in the skirt all day long, is also damp up to her breast, and her tie is similarly wet. Cindy walks confidently into the hotel, and asks for a cheap single room for the night. No one pays her much attention, exactly what she likes; they can’t tell that she’s wearing a pee soaked school uniform. Maybe someone picks up on the smell, but they wouldn’t think it’s coming from the nicely dressed woman in business-looking attire and tie like Cindy. She checked into the room, and wondered what to do next. She was already too tired to do anything, and just wanted some rest. The AC was getting her wet legs cold, so she had to turn it up a little. That’s when Cindy realizes the pee smell is getting stronger and stronger in the room. Maybe it’s a good time to wash up. She goes for the shower in the hotel room. By force of habit, she was about to strip her tie off, but then she remembers that no item is coming off. She tightened up her tie again, and turned on the hot shower. She hasn’t realized till the water hits her clothes how sticky her pee soaked clothes has been. The hotel was kind enough to give her shampoo and body wash, and so Cindy lathered it over her outfit. She took extra care to wash under her skirt, and her feet, she doesn’t want a foot infection after all. After some vigorous clothed scrubbing, Cindy emerges from the shower, sopping wet, yet feeling clean. Just as a little spontaneous ritual, she releases a little pee into her wet tights and skirt, feeling extra naughty. She skips the night time pee, and drifts off to sleep, in her wet uniform and a half filled bladder.

View File Poo accident scene from Kom Payabaht This cute scene comes from the Thai TV show "Kom Payabaht". A gorgeous girl in a sexy student uniform is bursting to poo and goes into a store to use the toilet. Unfortunately for her, and fortunately for us, a woman goes into the toilet in front of her, leaving her desperately banging on the door until she loses control and goes in her skirt. Her friend then laughs at her, and she squeals in distress. It's nothing graphic, but very sexy nonetheless.  Submitter Male Submitted 08/21/2019 Category Desperation Clothing Skirt

So, as I teased, Thursday night was my works holiday party, and I planned on getting drunk, or as I promised ‘wrecked.’ It’s been a busy few months and I wanted to unwind, also the party featured free wine and other drinks, vouchers for rides home, and after the official party, myself, the hubby, and a bunch of the younger people from work and their partners planned on going out clubbing. All in all, I planned to be less than responsible (especially after leaving the official work function), and in anticipation I left out a pair of Goodnites on the bed, and put down my peepod pad in place. I felt rather naughty leaving these things out on the bed. I wore a cute black skirt, nothing too short so that if I bend over people would see my knickers, but also not too long to be frumpy. Now there was some discussion about shimapan (striped panties), so I pulled on a pair of white with blue stripes (not to be confused with blue with white stripes) panties. Anyhow, I slipped a pad into my panties before leaving, for other reasons, put on some moderately sensible shoes (for dancing and tottering about), grabbed a small purse, changed my husband’s shirt and shoes, and we headed out. I won’t ramble on about the official work party portion of the evening. There were the usual chit chat, and some speeches, and so forth. I mostly kept it together, as in addition to staff we also had a ton of our volunteers out at the event. I did however, partake in a good portion of wine, possibly 5 glasses, maybe less, it was a little hard to say. Anyhow, water and finger food were also consumed with abandon, and the washroom was visited often. Once this part wrapped up, a decent sized group wandered down to the pre-arranged club. It was probably around 11pm at this point, and I was decently tipsy. I really haven’t gone clubbing in a little while, so it was kind of nice, but I was glad we had a bunch of friends and people we knew around. So much dancing occurred and I drank even more, I don’t really know how many but enough to stay a little tottery and certainly goofy. It was your usual club tunes, which means I knew very little of the music, as I’ve not gone clubbing in a while, but that was part of the fun, as most of the songs were new, we just sort of alternated between thrashing about on the dance floor, and leaning up against the wall drinking. I do have pretty clear recollection of one point in the night, which will be of interest to readers. This officers when rigorous dancing was taking place closer to the side of the dancing area. Jumping and dancing were happening and at one point I jumped up with both feet as high as I could go and landed hard with my legs slightly spread apart. Dancing on a mostly full bladder is fine for me, as long as I’m not doing anything too theatrical, and this was just the kind of move that gets me in trouble. As I landed I felt a serious whoosh of liquid escape my body. The pad I was wearing was flooded instantly and in my drunken state it took me a few seconds to bear down and stop the flow. I giggled and looked down. Fortunately, my legs were spread, so all I had done was soak my panties and pad, and leave a small (but noticeable spot) on the dance floor. No one seems to have noticed, and so I took a few steps to the wall, where I leaned to catch my breath and keep giggling. I felt a little goofy and thought I’d snap a picture of my little puddle (inhibitions being lowered), and I got a little carried away and took a bunch of pictures, which ended up looking cool because of the strobe lights. Anyhow, this is the puddle I left on the dance floor. After snapping these pictures, I hurried off to the washroom. The line wasn’t long and I got in a stall, pulled out the soaked pad, pulled off my panties, and squeeze dried them with toilet paper. Now despite my having brought a smaller purse I did have my usual spare pair of panties in a little zip lock bag with a spare backup pad. So I swapped out my panties, stuffing the striped panties into the baggie and pulling the fresh panties back on (after emptying my bladder in the toilet and carefully wiping my girl parts dry). Now my dress is the length where you could get away with going without panties, if you were careful, but I was not really at a stage of sobriety where I was going to be careful, there was a good chance that folks were going to see my knickers. I also should mention that my spare panties were not a dark colour that might have been harder to see in the low light of the club should a girl ‘get low’ or you know, do some other potentially revealing dance move. No, these panties were one of my dinosaur print panties. For some reason, wearing dinosaur print panties at a club felt very naughty. Why naughty you ask? Because if you are going to flash someone your panties ‘accidentally’ what’s more adorable, striped panties, or dino print panties? I’ll let you all decide. But basically, I was wearing a very adult dress and shoes, but had on one of my more adorable girly pairs of panties. I contemplated snapping some pictures of my wet panties and pad in the toilet, but I was tipsy and worried about dropping my phone in the toilet... needless to say I wasn't quite all there at this point. I rejoined the group and danced and drank until the club closed. By the time the lights came up, I was rather tipsy and kind of draped off my husband. Now he had quite a bit to drink as well but kept things together as he knew I was going to get messy. At this stage my recollection of the evening is patchy. Did I mention I’d been drinking? So I do remember a few snippets which are worth recounting. We were just in line to get our coats when my hubby leaned close to my ear and whispered (or sort of whispered, as there were plenty of people around us talking and you would have needed a stage whisper in order to be heard): “I’m going to get our coats. You should visit the washroom before we grab a cab.” I remember blushing furiously and starting to protest, but then checking my bladder and realizing that he was right, and knows me well enough that when I’m drinking like this, I’m very sloppy. Neither of us wanted me to wet a taxi seat, so I scampered off to the washroom to pee. I should add that when he does things like this, like reminding me to use the washroom ‘just in case,’ or to ‘wash my hands,’ or similar things like this, it makes me feel little and protected by a caring Daddy figure, and I love it! Anyhow, I nipped off to the loo and peed. I also pulled out the pad I had on, as it had caught a few additional dance-move related dribbles throughout the rest of the evening. I made it back to the coat check just after he got our coats. We said goodbye to a couple of our friends who had stuck it out, and my hubby ended up chatting with one of them for a little while, before we jumped in a cab (or Uber, I don’t remember). We got home, and made it up to our flat. I’m sure my hubby did a bit of lifting and pulling, as I was slightly uncooperative. Once we got home, the shoes came off, the purse which I miraculously still had found a comfortable spot on the floor, and staggering to the bedroom, I pulled off my dress in one go, and flopped down on the bed. I guess my hubby stayed up a little later, or fell asleep on the coach or something, because the next thing I knew he was shaking my awake. I was still pretty groggy, but apparently I had peed the bed wearing my dino panties and bra. I had more or less positioned myself onto the peepod pad, so the clean up was rather easy. I think I reprimanded my hubby for not properly changing my into ‘my nighttime panties’ and was more or less unhelpful as he pulled off the peepod pad, used a corner of it to more or less wipe my girl parts, and properly prepare me for bed. It must have been about 4 am or something (my hubby later confirmed that it was only like 3 am and I’d only been in bed for like an hour). Anyhow, he helped me into the Goodnites, which were still laying on the bed, and helped me get off my bra. The wet pad and panties were more or less folded up and flopped onto the floor. In order to stave off a hangover, we both had a glass of water. I knew it would likely end up mostly in the bed, but I am not a fan of hangovers. I remember putting up a fuss about not being ready for bed, and worried about wetting the bed again, so while I put on some PJ bottoms, my hubby located one of our Goodnite bed pads, stuck it down on the sheets, and put me to bed. This time he joined me and we were both out like a light. ----- The next morning I woke up to the feeling of wet cold cloth against my skin. It wasn’t too late, my phone said like 11 am, and normally given how late we had been up, I would have had a lay in, but I was wet. VERY wet. I felt around underneath me and between my legs and I felt a very wet and swollen Goodnite, along with wet PJ bottoms, and even a considerable wet spot on the bed pad. My hubby was groggily mumbling next to me, so I dragged myself out of bed, stripped off the wet PJ bottoms, and padded into the washroom wearing a very swollen diaper. I took my all-too-common post-bedwetting shower, and then, because I was mostly awake at this point, I went about making breakfast. After a while, my hubby joined me and filled me in on some of the events of the evening (used to complete the above story). He also lightly teased me about wetting the bed twice in one night; Something about knowing he had a wife who wet the bed, but just not that much. And also ‘for a little girl, I certainly peed a lot.’ This had the effect of both embarrassing and turning me on. I thanked him for taking good care of me the previous night, and promised sexy times later in the day, once we were both a little less hung over (the water had not really helped). While tidying up, I thought I’d snap a picture of both bedwetting incidents for posterity (and you perverts). So here is the aftermath of the first wetting; my peepod pad and wet dino panties (the wet striped panties were still in the baggie in my purse). As you can see, the pad did a good job of catching this initial accident. The pad and panties were cold to the touch, and smelled only faintly of pee. I then artfully arranged the Goodnite, wet PJs, on top of the wet bed pad, and snapped some more pics. I can’t believe I peed that much, usually, a Goodnite can hold one full Rachel bladder, so given the size of the puddle on the bed pad and the dampness of my PJ bottoms, I must have wet twice wearing these things. So I’ve left the title a little vague… Anyhow, here are the shots of the Goodnite in the bathroom on its own, so you can see how wet it got. Anyhow, that was my rowdy messy night. I hope you enjoyed it. Rachel