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  1. Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy this latest commission of mine and please drop me a message if you want your own! 🙂 Enjoy! : The Desperate Surfer Grace Taylor was beaming with delight. After months of poor weather, the seas were finally ready for proper riding again. A twenty-three-year-old professional surfer, she had been coming to Cornwall every summer for the last ten years, practicing and delighting in her favourite hobby since her early teenage years. It all started when her older brother had bought her a surfboard for her birthday and taken her on a day out to the beach in Cornwall. She hadn't expected to like it that much but the first time she held onto her board as she ascended over a wave, she had felt a rush like nothing else in this world, and despite falling off less than a few moments later, she was hooked for life. Grace was a gorgeous young woman. An intense exercise regime had given her a water-board stomach, as well as toned, sexy, and extremely long, smooth legs. Standing naked in her bedroom, her brown hair, with streaks of blonde, ran down below her shoulders and shone in the morning sunlight. Her breasts were smooth, perky, and perfectly shaped, with rays of sunshine glinting off them through her open window. Looking at herself in the mirror, she smiled with pride at her body. Over the years, she had inspired enormous jealousy in other women, as men they liked and even their boyfriends on occasion fell completely head over heels for Grace. Losing her virginity had been less of a challenge to find the right man and more picking and choosing from over two dozen willing candidates. The first guy had been a disappointment, losing control and releasing over her breasts halfway through. The second man had done the same when she had stared deep into his eyes with her extremely dark brown ones. Thankfully, the third had finally done the job and satisfied her, as she lost her virginity on a beach, near the ocean and under the stars, to a fellow surfer soon after her sixteenth birthday. Prom had been an exercise in fighting off men who wanted to dance with her for a while and then rip off her blue silk dress at the afterparty, while college had given her a string of relationships, most of which fulfilled her needs well enough. The same issue always arose however: No matter who they were, Grace was always more of a free-spirit than them and always had a greater partner than any of them. Despite having had several men and the odd woman, Grace's true love was the oceans. In contrast to the deep blue seas, nothing else could compare. The way the cold chill gave way to ecstatic joy as she rose in a wave, the exhilarating sense of danger from being inside a wave, the joy at pulling off a 360-degree turn to hundreds or even thousands of onlookers; sometimes even cheering her name. They would applaud, buy her drinks; most with the intent to get her into bed, a lucky few succeeding. Yet more than the applause, it was the sense of freedom. If she could have spent the rest of her life, riding on the edge of an endless wave, she would do it in a heartbeat. Nowhere else did Grace Taylor feel so alive. Even so, she was still sensible enough to keep up a broad income and did amateur modelling to fund her surfboarding and traveling lifestyle, having recently scored a contract with FireWire Surfboards; for which she had been paid handsomely. It probably helped that; upon being given some ‘Insider Knowledge’ by her fellow surfer friend Melanie Rivers, she’d flashed both the photographer and company boss; on different days, revealing her gorgeously soft-breasts to them, while posing in revealing wetsuits next to their branded boards. Thanks to that, she’d made twice the amount of money for that job she’d been initially promised; already a strong salary to start with, setting her up for the entire rest of the year to surf. A few of her friends had called her, Melanie and a couple of others out on performing sexual favours for advantage but Grace didn’t see the problem. She’d break the hand of anyone who tried to touch her without consent. She would do far worse to any man or woman who dared the same with one of her friends. But, if people wanted her, she was in the mood and they were either hot, wealthy, friendly or all of the above: Why not? Two months out of the year, she spent working, visiting family and generally off the beach. Yet elsewise, she spent all her remaining time there, traveling to the beach or with groups of friends who were part of the surfing community. She had been to thirteen countries, chasing waves in Australia, Hawaii, the United States; on both coastlines, as well as having competed in over fifty regional, national and international tournaments but she had always had a soft spot for where it had all started: Right here in Cornwall. Not wanting to waste any more time, Grace grabbed her wetsuit and sighed as she began her least favourite part of surfing. To put it simply: Getting into her gear was a nightmare. Sitting down and sliding her legs inside the tight black Lycra bottom half, they made it smoothly up to her knees before she had to begin wiggling and squirming to get the rest of her inside. 'Come on, you bitch!' moaned Grace, as the lycra finally slid over her bum. The upper portion of her wetsuit was mixed colours, grey up to and above her breasts with light and dark blues running along the sides of her chest and back; as well as dark blues extending down the arms. Despite the colour change, getting this portion on was no easier than the bottom half had been, as she fought to get her arms and chest inside the wetsuit comfortably. Having to pull on the material several times so that it was comfortable and not crushing her boobs, she eventually succeeded and did a small fist punch to the air in joy. 'Hell yeah! Beaches, here I come!'. Racing down the steps of her cottage; left as an inheritance by her grandmother, she passed through the kitchen and just as she was about to exit, swung herself back and grabbed a small tub of pills. They were vitamin supplements, which helped keep her body healthy and free of infection via contaminated seawater; as well as keeping off any excess weight. Unbeknownst to Grace, when she had ordered them online, she had neglected to notice a small but important side effect of the pills, which was to act as an exceptionally strong diuretic. Oblivious to this, she palmed three pills and swallowed them effortlessly, before putting on a pair of white trainers; her favourite running shoes, and heading towards her car. Minutes later, Grace was speeding down the road in her bright green Fiat, with her red cherry surfboard attached with strong ropes to the top of her car. As she continued down the motorway, she found that she had an unusually strong need to piss. Squirming to get comfortable, Grace found that she was unable to shake the growing need that she had to pee and found herself fidgeting even more as she became more and more desperate for the toilet. 'What the hell? What am I, five?!' laughed Grace as she fidgeted in her seat. Her self-deprecating humour began to cease as she continued to feel increasingly desperate. She couldn't understand it. She had used the toilet less than an hour and a half ago, before putting on her wetsuit. She had a strong bladder generally and was used to going long hours at the beach without bathroom breaks, yet here she was squirming around in her car seat like a ten-year-old girl, struggling not to wet herself. Crossing her legs relieved the pressure temporarily but soon enough she found that she had to change position from the groin discomfort in her bladder and after a while, her legs were crisscrossing repeatedly. Bouncing up and down on her seat, her perky bum shaking uneasily, Grace was beginning to get seriously concerned that she wouldn't be able to hold on until she reached the beach. A two-hour car journey would normally be nothing to her, however, right now, it felt like there was an iron ball in her bladder, pushing against her stomach to get out and she had barely even driven for half-an-hour. Grace could not remember the last time that she had been this desperate. She hadn't had an accident since primary school, where she was too nervous to ask where the toilets were and could only make it two-thirds of the way through the day before her then tiny bladder gave in and she had soaked her schoolgirl skirt and tights in front of her teacher. She’d been desperate a few times in school growing up or on really long surfing trips when she got high. However, she rarely even got to the level of urgently needing a bathroom. Yet for whatever reason, Grace realized that if she did not stop soon, she would lose control for the first time since childhood. 'Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, I need to pee so fucking badly!'. Spotting a sign that indicated a fuel station was only twenty miles away, Grace decided that, reluctantly, her surfing would have to wait a few extra minutes while she took an unscheduled bathroom break. The only question now was whether she could make the distance before for her bladder emptied of its own accord. Grace spent the next half hour or so squirming, fidgeting, tightly closing her legs, and holding herself between them; one hand stuffed tightly between her thighs while she swore at traffic. ‘Don’t think about it. I don’t need a wee, I don’t need a wee… fuck, I do need a wee! Ah, fuck this hurts!’. The young surfer’s whole body was fighting against itself, the diuretics trying to force their way out of her system, while everything else held it all back in. The subsequent result was that her growing desperation continued to get worse, yet through her sheer force of will, she held on and soon, had reached the turnoff to the fuel station. 'Thank fuck!' moaned Grace, relieved to have finally made it, though the thought of having to run across a busy car park and store to reach the toilets; while this desperate, made her blush with embarrassment. Mentally preparing herself, Grace imagined taking her hands from between her legs, walking normally into the garage and approaching the toilets: Occupied. No problem, she could wait an extra minute or two… wait, why did she feel so wet all of a sudden? ‘Miss, why are you peeing on the floor?’ asked the station attendant. Snapped out of her daydream instantly, Grace shuddered at the thought and clamped her legs tightly together, trying to prepare more sensible for when she would have to act at least semi-casual to reach the bathrooms with her dignity intact. Unfortunately, as she pulled into a parking spot next to the fuel station, she spotted a sign that made her incredibly angry: 'Employee toilets only, no customers allowed.’ 'Are you fucking kidding me!' screamed Grace, before freezing in shock as she felt a burst of piss escape from inside her and leak into the wetsuit. The sensation warmed her pussy in an unnatural feeling way, spreading around her crotch and slightly soaking between her trembling butt-cheeks. Grace blushed bright red inside her car, almost the colour of her own surfboard, as she realized that she only had minutes before she completely lost control and didn't have time to find anywhere else to go. Deciding that she could sweet-talk the petrol station manager into letting her use the toilet; well aware of the effect a young woman in tight lycra had on most guys, she stepped out of the car and; preparing to charm the manager she had briefly spotted on her way in, removed her hands from between her legs and prepared to walk into the station. She’d managed to get into exclusive London and San Francisco Nightclubs before by flashing her boobs and once; when really drunk, her pink lace knickers under a tight white skirt, at the club bouncers. She was certain that she could persuade a random petrol station attendant, on minimum wage, who probably didn’t give a shit about the rules of some monolithic corporation he was a part of, to let her use the toilet. She’d puff out her chest, put on a sweet voice; try and remain as still as possible, then he’d let her go and she could finally get the relief her body was craving. It would be easy. Grace made it about three steps forward before a huge four-second stream of pee escaped from her bladder, completely soaking her crotch and bum, before running down the sides of her legs. Caught completely off guard, Grace froze as her whole body began to shake violently and the gorgeous twenty-three-year-old surfer began to suffer a major accident. Unable to hold on even a second longer, Grace felt a hot wetness expanding around the crotch of her wetsuit and looked down in horror as she felt piss soaking her pussy, drenching her bum and running down the back of her legs. The tight lycra contained her accident and instead of soaking into the outer layers of her outfit, her piss was forced completely down her legs and exited in thick, yellow waterfalls around her ankles and flooded over her white trainers; forming a growing puddle around where she stood. When most girls wet themselves, they end up standing in small puddles of their shame and soaked clothing; with dark wet patches spread all over their light blue jeans or whatever other clothing they are wearing. Grace's accident was very different. While her wetsuit was now damp to the touch, her black lycra barely revealed any difference in contrast to before Grace lost control. The puddle around her however told a very different story, a huge pool of piss extending multiple ft. around her in all directions. 'Oh my god!', whispered Grace still not quite comprehending that she had completely wet herself for the first time in years. Standing in a daze, Grace was snapped out of her trance when she heard the sound of an automatic door opening and; terrified that it was the manager, leapt out of her puddle and practically jumped into her car, her lycra-clad wet bum squelching against the seat in a way that made Grace cringe in disgust. Igniting the car's engine and speeding out of there as fast as she did, she felt herself shaking with fear and embarrassment for the next 2-3 miles, until she was certain that no angry managers or a fleet of police cars were chasing her down for public urination. 'I can't believe I just did that! What the hell is wrong with me? I'm a fucking adult, not some baby who loses control in public. God this is so fucking embarrassing!'. As the minutes passed, Grace began to see the funny side of the whole situation and started laughing, realizing just how strange this would sound to her friends; if she ever had the courage to tell them. Even so, she was still immensely confused at just how the hell this had happened. Was she sick? Did she have some kind of bladder infection? Grace was humble enough to admit that anybody could have an accident; it wasn't as if she could deny that about herself when sitting in her wet clothing. But this all just felt completely unlike her. She tried to think back through her day and figure out if anything had caused her body to be negatively impacted. Grace had gotten up this morning, taking a shower and then immediately having breakfast, which was whole oat cereal and milk, with a glass of orange juice. She had then gone to get changed, got into her wetsuit, and left the house... except… 'Oh, shit!' realized Grace, the answer coming to her at once. The vitamin supplements she had taken earlier had diuretic properties and she now realised that she had just simply not read the side effects properly when purchasing them. A similar thing happened to her twenty-two-year-old friend Melanie; a fellow surfer, who had begun a new pill without properly checking the side effects. She had confessed the story while drunk to Grace and a few fellow Surfers, leading to a humiliating accident when Melanie had completely lost control in front of her boyfriend in the hotel elevator; trying in-vain to make it back to her room before she pissed herself. Grace also laughed, as she knew an additional part of that story that Melanie had neglected to tell the rest of her friends. Her boyfriend Thomas had known about the pill mix-up, long before Melanie realized and had neglected to tell her, as a massive piss fetishist and had greatly enjoyed seeing his girlfriend’s desperation. When she lost control in the elevator and wet herself, Thomas had been unable to contain himself and had pinned her to the walls, spanking her wet ass and somehow tearing a through lycra to drive himself inside her piss-soaked pussy; while licking her perky nipples as Melanie screamed in shocked delight. Melanie had told a shocked Grace all about the kink and just how much it drove Thomas crazy. She’d been surprised, having previously stereotyped fetishes like that as the territory of middle-aged men, rather than muscular, blonde-haired machines, who even Grace found could get her suit damp from time-to-time. Melanie; a keen eye and major gossip on all things sexual, had noticed Grace’s attractions and even offered to share Thomas. Once or twice, she’d even half-joked about Grace and her giving Thomas a piss-themed threesome for his birthday; much to Grace's embarrassment and rebukes that she had no interest in that kink. If the two lovebirds could see Grace now, she blushed at thinking what they would want to do to her. Melanie was a major exhibitionist and got off on a mixture of pleasure and humiliation, so Grace’s near miss-accident would probably have her friend kissing her neck. As for Thomas; based on Melanie’s descriptions on what he did to her after even the smallest accidents, Grace would be sore for a week and wobbling on her surfboard for a while after. Realizing that she was unintentionally biting her lip, Grace shook off those thoughts and focused on heading to the beach. Now that she had emptied herself, Grace figured that she had flushed the diuretic out of her system and would be back to her normal bladder strength. That belief lasted for about forty minutes. Grace moaned in annoyance as she felt a sudden urge to pee again and realized that the diuretic pills were still rapidly refilling her bladder, in preparation to forcibly empty them once more. No longer confused as to why; though no less annoyed, Grace began fidgeting in her car seat and grimaced at the fact that her bum was still fairly damp from her previous accident. At first, she tried to ignore it; somehow convinced this would help, yet a few minutes of growing pain in her bladder put an end to that idea. Grace then squirmed around in her seat as before, feeling the warm pee still trapped in her suit, sloshing around her bum and across her legs. A few drips and streams had soaked onto the floor of her car, though thankfully; having come into her car numerous times when dropping temperatures became too much to bear in the seas, had plenty of towels done across the floors in preparation for such times. A few drops of pee weren’t going to leave any permanent impression. Even so, this did nothing to help Grace’s desperation, as she began to sweat anxiously, filling drips of pee running down the back of her ankles and into her wet shoes. Increasingly in bladder agony, Grace’s resolve back to crack. 'Maybe I should just let go now and get it over with. I've already done it once' thought Grace. 'No! I know what's happening now and I can hold it for twenty minutes. I am not going to wet myself twice in one day!'. Unfortunately, Grace was far from certain that the decision was hers to make. She remembered Melanie telling her about how she and Thomas had experimented with diuretics after their elevator romp and Grace remembered hearing that a second accident always followed the first; when diuretic-induced, much sooner than it had taken the first time. 'It completely regresses your bladder muscles' she remembered Melanie explaining. The first wave knocks them down from adulthood back to childhood and by the time you need to go again, you basically have a toddler's control. Totally shatters your muscle strength... but not the muscles needed for the fun afterward!'. Grace moaned in frustration. She had barely held on that long the first time and already felt seriously desperate to piss, wriggling and squirming like crazy in the driver's seat. Before she could help it, a spurt of piss burst from her damp pussy, re-soaking her crotch, as she quickly shot one hand down between her legs to help her hold on. Even so, Grace felt like it was barely helping and the intense pressure in her bladder made her feel like she could leak again at any moment. 'Fucking fuck, fuck… fuck!! I can't fucking hold it anymore! Not when my bladder is compromised like this! I can't do it, I'm so desperate right now. I feel like I'm about to wet myself at any second. I can't do this any longer. I just can't, it's not my fault if I lose control again-' -Suddenly, Grace's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an ice cream truck with the past and she realized that she was less than a mile away from the beach. Screaming with delight, she turned towards it and began eagerly anticipating the moment when she could step out of her car and quickly make her way to the nearby toilets; located right next to the car park. Grace's desperation only seemed to worsen as she approached the car park but she was determined to make it. Despite still heavily fidgeting, Grace steeled her nerves and prepared for the short walk from the car park to the toilets; less than a minute long, with her determined not to wet herself this time. Unfortunately, this really wasn't Grace's day and in a run of bad luck that would make even the worst gamblers cry with laughter, Grace nearly screamed in sheer disbelief at the sign she saw on the bathroom doors nearby: 'OUT OF ORDER. PLEASE USE ALTERNATIVE FACILITIES'. The moment Grace's eyes saw the sign, the rest of her body knew that she wouldn't be able to hold on for the 5-minute walk to the other bathrooms, just around the corner of the beach. Grace's mind however went into denial and she stepped desperately out of her car, her knees bending and nearly giving way almost immediately from an intense pang of desperation, as Grace did the pee-pee dance in between her car and another. 'I can't hold it!' moaned Grace aloud, as a fresh spray of piss sprang from her bladder and ran down her leg; a small yellow stream running over her stained trainers. Realizing that she only had seconds left, Grace quickly stumbled behind her car; out of sight of anyone on the beach, before her whole body began to tremble with anticipation. Knowing that the battle was lost anyway, she took a deep breath and sighed, giving in to the inevitable as her bladder completely broke down and Grace Taylor began to completely and utterly wet herself for the second time that day. Despite having previously experienced it, Grace still found the sensation incredibly strange as warmth flooded around her crotch; her pussy drenched in piss in Mere moments, before the liquid ran up to her ass, re-soaking her dampened bum and flooding down her legs. Shaking with relief, Grace didn't know if it was just in her head but the feeling of her second accident overwhelming her exhausted muscles sent an immense wave of pleasure rocketing through her body, which no longer had to hold back the intense load inside her. Gripping her car boot for support, Grace let out a small moan as her whole body shuddered and she experienced an involuntary orgasm; her clit pulsating like a drum, her legs vibrating with relief, and her bladders painful aching finally gone. The piss flooding down her legs, the puddle she was standing in, and even the fact that she was a young woman behaving like a little girl who couldn't make it to the toilet was forgotten, as Grace relished the relief and the immense pleasure it was bringing her. She had sex before that wasn't as good as this and somewhere in her thoughts, she would remember thinking afterward that she was beginning to understand what Melanie and Thomas got out of this. While Grace was lost halfway between embarrassment and erotic pleasure, her body continued its accident, with dozens of hot yellow streams every second flooding down her legs and soaking her lycra wetsuit, though only a thin glistening layer of piss made it to the outer surface of her wetsuit. Her shoes once again filled with her piss, while her bum trembled violently inside its now soaked lycra containment. ‘Ohhhh fuuuuck’ she moaned, in a tone that could have been whispered into a lover’s ear in bed. Slowly, Grace’s accident began to subside and she felt the intense streams slow to a gentle trickle, a few drops, and then; nothing. Sighing with relief, Grace looked down at her feet and burst out laughing. Somehow, the puddle she was standing in was almost as big as the one she’d left at the petrol station. ‘How the hell is that possible?’ she thought. Regardless of how, Grace wasn’t entirely sure how she felt. The intense accident should have left her utterly humiliated and while embarrassed, she was more annoyed at herself for making such a silly mistake with the pills. The actual wetness she could handle, as to her immense relief, no one had seen her lose control. Even so, she knew she needed to be more careful in the future to avoid anything like this ever happening again. She didn’t want this to happen again… right? The truth was, Grace didn’t know how she felt about that either. Her whole body was still shaking from her orgasm and; as if on cue, her knees finally gave out, as she slid down her car and fell into her puddle, the pee soaking against the outer layers of her wetsuit. It felt sloshy, immature, and silly, yet also warm, relaxing, and almost… pleasurable. ‘If only Melanie could see me now!’ thought Grace. ‘She’d be ecstatic!’ Despite her conflicted feelings on the multiple accidents, neither was her primary concern now. It was mid-morning, the sun was as bright as any Cornwall day could hope to be and she could hear the sound of waves in the distance. Pulling herself up, she looked over her car bonnet and gave the biggest smile. The beach was practically deserted and the waves were rising high; over 10 ft., crashing down up past even the middle-half of the beach, soaking the sand in seawater. No matter what she liked or didn’t like sexually, Grace loved surfing. Next to that, everything else was forgotten. Quickly untying the robes that held her surfboard on the car roof, she grabbed the cherry red board and began sprinting with it across the sand; a few moments after kicking her pee-soaked trainers underneath her car. Her long brown hair flapped in the wind and she looked like a supermodel running down the beach, attracting the eyes of every person who had arrived. They were all so enraptured by her looks: Her gorgeous face, deep brown eyes, lycra-clad legs, her cute bum, not a single one noticed the droplets of pee shaking free from her, as she made her way towards the ocean. This was where she belonged. Where she would always belong. Laughing with ecstatic joy, she felt a huge wave douse her in seawater; piss replaced with salt covering her whole body in a cold chill, yet she continued running and threw herself into the waters. Carried forward on her surfboard with ease, she lay against it; paddling further out and then timed her ascent perfectly. She rose just before the wave and found herself standing in a living tunnel of water, thousands of gallons roaring above her, yet all she felt was pure exhilaration. She had been barrelled and was riding it perfectly, in tune with the turn of the wave as if it were a part of her own body. ‘WAHOO!’ she screamed, at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing off the water in a hundred directions; a beautiful distortion at the heart of chaos. The wave began to thunder down, yet Grace held her nerve and lowered her body, closing in on the narrowing exit from the wave. Always a second ahead of the water, she surfed down for a second, then spun up and over the wave, turning at a 360-degree spin in the air, before landing back on the water perfectly and riding the aftershock nearly all the way back to the beach, where a small group of people cheered her display: She was a true professional and they all knew it. Grace smiled, blowing kisses at everyone, before turning back before she lost momentum and heading for the next wave. It was good to be home.
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