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My pronouns are..


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  1. Time for a new story. This time, it's a classical fan fiction to the (hopefully) well-known PS3/4/5 game series "Uncharted". While you had the character of Chloe Frazer as an NPC in the earlier, mainline Uncharted games, you could actually play her in Uncharted: The Lost Legacy. This fan fiction was born from my head running wild during the countless wetlook scenes in the game (which looked incredibly realistic). What should surprise nobody: I do not own rights to any of the above mentioned stuff. Duh. Chapter 1: How it started It was another evening after a hard day's work of treasure hunting. Chloe was sitting in her favourite bar together with Nadine Ross, her partner in crime. The air was hot and sticky and the drinks were cool. Of course they were, Chloe gave them no chance of warming up before downing them. They had every reason to celebrate. Though it may be be just another mission for them, they were successful nonetheless and did not only escape with treasure, but also with their lives. They recapped the events and laughed at various comic reliefs in between dangerous situations. They were used to it, but that doesn't mean they don't care. "Fuck, I was so scared this time", Chloe said. Sipping on her glass again. "Yeah, me too. It was way too close. Again. As always. But it gives you kicks, doesn't it?", Nadine replied. As former head of a group of mercenaries, she somehow got addicted to danger. "Sure as hell does. But also got me wet a bit, and not from pleasure. When we ran away.", Chloe laughed. She was quite open about this kind of stuff, at least with Nadine. "Frazer, really? Tell me about it" Nadine said. She also took a sip from her drink and observed Chloe. "There's not much to tell. Had to pee. For some time. Sadly, there were no port-a-potties in that tomb. But getting away was more important. So I guess... I just didn't care. Didn't feel too bad actually. Besides, we had to swim the last part so nobody noticed, not even you." Chloe was starting to slur a bit. "You're right, I didn't notice at all. We're wet half the time anyway... But how did it feel not too bad?" Nadine was intrigued. While she had her desperate moments, she always found a way to get behind a tree or stone and yank her pants down in the last second. It never occurred to her that peeing her pants was an option. "Well it's warm, for starters. And somehow the feeling of being wet excites me, especially when it comes from myself. Have you never thought about why we somehow always use the route through rivers when there's a bridge not too far away?", Chloe blurted out. She was way more open now after some drinks. Not that she was shy otherwise, but she tended not to talk about "that stuff" when sober. "So that's why!", Nadine exclaimed, "I always thought it was just convenient and to cool us off. So that's your thing, huh? How did that start?" "Back when I had my time with Nate. You remember Nate? It's a shame he chose Elena over me. But let's not talk about that. So one time he randomly jumped into the water inside a temple and told me to come in with him, the water's nice and stuff. I had my hard-to-get phase back then, so I told him that he just wants my shirt to get wet. He laughed and continued with whatever. But somehow it stuck with me, if not with him. I wore a red shirt back then, none of that wet-t-shirt stuff. But somehow, in an event when I got wet, I found it... interesting. So one time when I was alone, I decided to do it deliberately. Just get in a shower as I was, my tan cargo pants and red shirt, and turn the faucet on. And somehow... I liked it. You know, like a lot." Chloe had to take a breath after that monologue. She felt her tongue move itself to form words she had never told anyone. Nadine nodded every so often, she clung to her lips. After another sip, Chloe continued. "So anyway, I found that I actually liked getting wet fully clothed. You know me, I mostly live in warmer climates, so it wasn't an issue. Even less during missions with Nate, when I started to somehow accidentally or deliberately fall into water whenever it was possible. Nate sadly never made a comment about it, but I guess everyone's got their own thing. Anyway, the day came when... I had forgotten to take a pee when I could. And we were stuck behind an especially challenging puzzle. I don't even remember what it was. I was no great help that day, as I was completely focused on my need. I tried to avoid moving around because, you know, I'm the tough girl who isn't afraid of no one, but when Nate finally solved that puzzle and euphoria kicked in, I lost a spurt. I felt it in my panties, just a tiny bit. I looked down instinctively, but even though I wore those tan pants, you couldn't see it. My need increased tenfold though, so I became really nervous. Nate was still in explorer mode, looked around, scribbled something in his notebook, so he didn't notice me. I told him we need to get going now and made my way to the exit. When I waited for him to come, I lost another spurt. And another. I could feel the dam break any second now, and I could also start seeing an ever so tiny dark spot on my pants. I needed to act. Fast. And there it was, my safe haven. In the next chamber, there was a large body of water. Almost like a deliberate swimming pool from ancient times. When I saw Nate finally catching up on me, I felt another spurt. And I couldn't stop it this time. I felt it spread in my panties and slowly making it's way down my legs. I ran. As fast as I could. Like running for cover, yeah, I kind of was. And then I jumped into the water. I was now peeing full force in my pants. Didn't matter now because I was all wet, underwater. When I got to the surface again, I held onto the side and finished. I forgot about Nate, about that temple, about everything for a while. I was finally at peace and could pee. And then, Nate yanked me out of my own little wet world. "You okay in there? Little swim?" he said. All the time I was angry and sad about his obliviousness about my random swims. This time, I was glad. I told him yeah, just cooling off. In reality, I was still warming myself up. When I was finally finished, I left the pool and we continued our journey. All the way home, I thought about what happened and how it felt unbelievably relieving to finally... well, relieve myself. I never talked to him about that. So that was how it started. You still with me?" Chloe looked up. Indeed, Nadine was with here more than ever. She blushed a little and had that mischievous smile on her face that usually meant trouble. "I love that story. I felt like I was there. That Nate could have been a lucky man" Nadine said. She was still intrigued. That crave for relieve was all too familiar to her, but she never thought about how it would feel to let it go in her pants. All that talking about pee suddenly made her notice her own bladder. She found this particularly funny and chuckled a bit. "Yeah, but Nate's Nate. Enough story time, this made my bladder fill up way too fast. Together with the drinks of course. How bout you?" Chloe said. "Hm, what? Oh, yeah, me too. But I guess I can hold it a bit longer" Nadine said. "Don't tell me you're holding it in deliberately. But okay, I can manage too. Besides, holding can be quite pleasurable too, you know?" Chloe winked. Nadine blushed again. "You never fail to amaze me, Frazer. Hey, barkeeper, another two!" she said. Both women were excited on what the rest of the evening would bring.
  2. Hey there, Gumshoes. I'm back on the case. I'm walking down YouTube Blvd. Checking out some wetlook jeans fetish dames like "LoveMyJeans" (that sneakily piss themselves. only an experienced omo fan can tell). I run into this lady called "Wet Jeans Sarah" and her video titled "new york in grey levis jeans". Now, Wet Jeans Sarah is all woman. Mature. Natural. Looking beautiful. She loves tight designer jeans and high-heels. In the video she hangs out in her hotel room, and preps to get in the shower. She starts the water, stands still, and pees herself before going under the running shower head. She looks back at the person recording in a lustful manner for a brief moment. I have to say.... she was very comfortable doing that. Nonchalant. Clearly an experienced pants pisser. Then it dawned on me, "I've seen this face before.....I've seen these wet jeans and heels before too... Now, where was it?". Remember that old video by Bound2Burst called "Amber's Early"? I've come to the conclusion that this is the same woman. The clues match up, and wow, she aged wonderfully. I think she's even more gorgeous now than she was back in the B2B days. Fine wine. I'm going to enjoy her YouTube videos while they last. Here's the video, I didn't want to share a link for YouTube to chop it down. Also included is a couple of screenshots from the old B2B video. Now you tell me. Did I crack the case? WetJeansSarah.webm
  3. After years of lurking on this great website, I finally got around to contributing something. The following is a translation of a German fanfiction I wrote, partly based on a true story. The first chapter is entirely wetlook, no omorashi yet, so feel free to skip if you're not into it. I hope to build it into a series, so I titled it "The Hannah Chronicles". Please enjoy and give me feedback, I'm still trying to find my style of writing. Prologue On a summer day's night, a friend and I were drinking and minding our own business at a moderately secluded spot. In the distance, we heard voices and music. Must be two girls. We didn't see anything because it was dark. Later on, there was some commotion, drunken screams and the like. We listened to decide whether they need anything. We concluded that one of them managed to throw her cellphone into the water and they were now arguing what to do about it. As they were clearly underage, I did not investigate further and let my mind continue the story. I never found out how the real story ended. All names and details are pure fiction, the fictional characters are in their twenties. Chapter 1: IP68 "And she actually meant that!", Hannah laughed. She and her friend Laura finally got around to meeting at their favourite drinking spot at a local basin, a secluded spot with an idyllic artificial pond and a place to sit, a metal storm drain directly above the water. The evening in July was getting late, it was getting dark but it was still much warmer than they expected. Hannah, an athletic young woman with short bleach blonde hair was regretting her decision to wear jeans and a white long sleeved top that day, but was okay with it in the evening. It was one of those evenings that were bound to last long. Laura, a petite woman with long brown hair enjoyed this evening with Hannah. She wore red capri pants and a black tank top. A fitting outfit for a summer's night. The two talked of this and that, their college experiences and more or less pleasant stories with men. For the later part of the evening, they brought a bottle of wine, as neither of them were excited about beer. Laura asked her friend how it's going with men lately. Hannah started to talk about her current love interest and wanted to show Laura a picture of him. Hannah tried to grab her phone in a swift motion and missed it. Accelerated by her hand, it slid across the storm drain and disappeared at the end of the platform, towards the pond. Splash. Hannah needed a few seconds to process what just happened. As she realized that her phone in fact just fell from the platform into the basin's inflow, she let out a scream. In the same moment, she jumped to her feet and panicked. Her phone was waterproof, which saved it from some accidents in the sink before, but now it was not just wet but gone. She ran around the fence and looked at the water surface. The water was unclear and it was dark, so she had no chance of seeing anything. Before she could asked, Laura gave her her phone with the flashlight turned on. As always, the two friends understood each other without words. Even with lighting, Hannah could not see anything apart from reflections, no indication of the water's ground to know the depth. She continued looking at the surface and was petrified. Laura tried thinking about ways to help her friend. "Hannah! Keep calm! Your phone's waterproof!", she tried to calm her. "Yeah, I know that! But it's gone! I can't see it anywhere!", Hannah responded while pacing around near the water. "I have to find out how deep the water is here", Hannah said to herself, while carefully lowering herself to the surface and putting her hand into the water. She couldn't care less about the seam of her longsleeved top getting wet. As her hand got deeper and deeper into the water and reached her elbow, she still couldn't feel anything apart from algae. She became even more nervous. "Well, how deep is it? I thought maybe half a meter [20 inches] or less", Laura commented, who slowly got infected by Hannahs panic. "Wait, I'll hold you. Lie down!", Laura commanded. Hannah followed on the spot and got on her stomach, Laura held on to her legs. This way, Hannah could get her arm into the water up until her armpit, but even this was not enough. As Hannah got her arm out of the water, she automatically held it away from her body to avoid getting more of herself wet. Although it was dark, Hannah's sun tanned skin was clearly visible through the now completely see-through sleeve of her top. "What do we do now?", Laura asked. The same moment, she had an idea. "Hannah, it's no use. You have to get in there!" Despite her panic, Hannah was surprised: "What? In there? But I don't have any bathing suit!". Laura answered briskly: "Yes, I know that. Do you have any better idea? Come on, it's warm and you can change when we get home." Hannah knew that her friend was right, although she did not like it. She looked down at herself. Her outfit was in no way suitable for swimming. She was concerned about her favourite pair of jeans and thought about undressing it. Underneath, she wore a pair of skimpy, gray panties. From washing them, she knew that they turn slightly transparent when wet. The jeans had to stay. Of course, she only wore a red bra under her white top which showed a bit too much for public, so she couldn't undress her top either. "Okay then. At least the shoes..." she told herself and undressed them to have at least them safe from the water. She forgot that she could also undress her socks, somehow. Laura was content, although she could not hide her pity for her friend. She helped her by holding her hand while they got back to the basin's shore. "At least the water isn't cold", Hannah commented while touching the surface with her toes in black socks, "or it would be even worse. Okay, go on". Laura slowly let her friend continue down into the water. Her foot was now completely underwater. She hesitated for a moment when the seam of her jeans touched the water. "I'm sorry", she said to her favourite jeans and continued submerging her leg. Deeper. Deeper. She got her leg up to the knee into the water and still couldn't feel ground. Then, finally, she felt something at the tip of her toes. "I can feel the ground!", Hannah exclaimed euphorically, until she realized that she got nearly all of her leg, just before her crotch, into the water. "Laura, pull me back up!", she told her friend. As Hannah left the water with help from her friend, Laura couldn't help but be amused about the sight. Hannah's right leg was completely dark blue, she could see it shining and dripping in the phone's flashlight. Her left leg was completely dry. Hannah looked down on herself and had to smile. For a short moment, she thought that the dripping wet pant leg did not only to look interesting, but the heavy and slightly clingy fabric did also feel interesting. "Okay, now I know how deep the water is. I can stand there with ease", Hannah explained. Luckily, she was rather tall with her 1.75m [5'7''] of height. That this meant that her jeans had to be completely submerged in the water did not limit her joy. She sat down at the steep shore and lowered her legs into the water. If the situation wasn't as problematic and did she not wear full-length jeans, this could very well be a nice day at the pool, she thought. She put her arms on the basin's bank and lifted her hips. Slowly, she let herself get deeper and deeper into the water. Her formerly dry pant leg was soaking as fast as the other. Hannah was happy about her arm muscles, as they allowed her to move in such a slow and controlled way. When she felt the ground, this time with both feet, she let loose. She did not expect the ground to give way. It was a layer of soft mud on top of the hard concrete underneath. When her feet dug into the mud, her crotch got into the water suddenly and unexpectedly. She let out a moan. It wasn't cold, but the sudden wetness between her legs was still a surprise. She now stood on the ground, although in a layer of mud, and the water level reached up to her belly. Her top was also drenched a bit and moved upwards. "Okay, I made it", Hannah said. Laura left her no time to rest: "Well? Can you feel it somewhere? Be careful not to step on it!". Hannah started right away to make careful movements in the mud. After a while of only feeling the mud's drag, she felt a hard, heavy object. She checked it with her toes. Was it a stone? No, she was certain: It was her phone! "Got it! There it is!", Hannah informed her friend. Laura was relieved: "Great! Now you just have to get it out of the water!". Hannah realized what this meant: She tried, but had no chance of grabbing the phone with her feet, even less with socks on. She tried to grab it with two feet while holding onto the bank. No chance. She didn't want to risk kicking the phone away unterwater and lose it again. She looked at her friend. "Laura. You have to get it." "What, me? But why?", Laura exclaimed. "Well think about it. Because I'm wearing a white top. And what happens to white clothes when they get wet? Why do you think I didn't want to take it off? Your clothes are much better suited!", Hannah answered. Although Laura understood her friend, she didn't think of her own outfit as bathing clothes. She thought about her red capri pants and black tank top. Surely, none of it would turn see-through. She tried to protest nonetheless. "B-But... I only just got them. And it's cold..." - "It's not cold! If I didn't have to find my phone, I would call it perfect bathing weather. Come on, please help me." - "Okay, okay", Laura resigned. She slowly walked up to the bank and looked down to her friend whose upper half was still outside of the water. Laura was shorter than Hannah, this moment reminded her of it. She also got out of her shoes and didn't wear socks. As her friend before, she sat on the bank and let her feet into the water. "Hannah's right, it really isn't cold", she thought to herself, almost happy about it. She slowly lowered herself further into the water. When her crotch touched the surface, she got back up. "Hannah, it's too deep", she said to her friend. Hannah answered: "Turn around, hold onto the bank. I'll catch you". Laura did just that, turned around and felt her friend's hands on her hips. For a brief moment, Hannah thought that Laura's wet pants somehow felt pretty nice and was surprised by this thought. "Okay, ready?" - "Ready!" Laura let herself down into the water once again, feeling her friend's hands guide her. When she finally felt the muddy ground under her feet, the water was reaching up to her boobs. She looked up at Hannah. "Thanks. Now, where's the thing now?", she asked. "There, I'll show you", Hannah said, while moving her foot to the phone's position and making Laura find her foot with hers. "Ah, I feel it. Oof. You really owe me, you know that?" - "Yeah, whatever you want. Please try it." Laura had to force herself. Although she was already almost completely submerged, she wanted to save at least most of her long brown hair. But now there was no turning back. She got down into the dark water and tried to feel for the phone. She was afraid to open her eyes underwater, but she wouldn't be able to see anything anyway, as it was pitch black underwater. After a while, she got back up. Hannah looked at her, expectingly: "Well? Did you get it?" She couldn't help but look at her friends wet black tank top. It glistened in the shine of Laura's phone's flashlight. Apart from the glistening, the outline of Laura's bra was also clearly visible, as the tank top clinged to her body like a second skin. Laura was surprised by her friends thorough stare. She answered: "No, I couldnt. You know that I can't open my eyes under water. And it's pitch black. No chance. You have to do it yourself, face it." Hannah wasn't happy with this answer. The whole ordeal took far too long already. "Laura, if we see anyone on our way home, you'll have to walk closely in front of me, okay?" - "Okay, yeah, got it. Don't think about it." - "Well okay". Hannah resigned. She fixated her foot on the phone one last time, got down into the water in one swift motion and grabbed her foot. She found it. Finally. She held onto it and got back up. With a triumphal "Yesssss", she held it into the air. The phone answered by happily showing the lock screen. Of course it still worked. Hannah quickly cleaned the mud off of it and only then became aware of her surroundings again. She looked down on her body. As expected, her red bra shone through the white top as if it did not exist. Only some air bubbles made one believe that this was in face completely drenched fabric. "It doesn't look too bad, actually", Hannah joked. She couldn't be mad about it now, she was euphoric to have her phone back. She looked at her friend who was also glad about it. There was no anger left about their wet clothes. "Now we should get out. Wait, I'll help you", Hannah said and helped Laura up. She pulled herself up onto the ground and turned around to help Hannah. Both now stood there dripping, exhausted, but happy. When Hannah looked to her friend, she noticed that Lauras red pants not only turned a darker shade of red and glistened, but also turned slightly transparent. "Hey Laura, nice panties!", she joked. Laura didn't let herself be teased, although she also noticed that her black underwear was clearly visible through her tight-fitting pants. "Come on, we have to celebrate!", Hannah said, and got back to their former spot. "Will we now open the bottle of wine at last?", Laura asked, and started their favourite music playlist on her phone. The two friends, still dripping wet, sat down on the storm drain and clinked their glasses. "Here's to IP68*!", both said. *IP68: A manufacturer's rating for (amongst others) phones, certifying the ability to withstand water immersion up to 1 meter (40 inches) and 30 minutes. Chapter 2: A hard day's night The evening continued. Although it was warm, the clothing of the two only dried slowly. None of them were particulary angry about it, as it was still warm enough and this was supported by their inner warmth, thanks to glass after glass of their favourite wine. Both were obviously tipsy. Hannah started to notice her bladder. She was always proud about her high bladder capacity and thus did not give a second thought to it, as she was immersed in their conversation. Some more time passed until her need was really starting to become big. Hannah interrupted her friend and, slightly slurry, told her "Wait, wait, give me a second. I'll be right back, I'm almost peeing my pants, haha", and tried to get up. The Bierbankeffekt* hit her instantly and put her back to the ground. Laura was amused by this, the wine had an effect on her also. "Yeah, I'll have to go too. Don't hurt yourself. And don't pee your pants, haha", she teased her friend. Hannah apparently sat down a bit too hard, as she felt something between her legs. "Oops! I guess I just let a squirt into my pants.", Hannah said, herself surprised by this explicit description. She looked at her friend who did not seem surprised by this. "Oh Hannah, you always overestimate your bladder. But wait, I'm slowly becoming desperate too now". Laura knew that her bladder was way smaller than her friend's. If her bladder told her that she had to go, she could not wait for another hour like her friend. She last used the toilet before their meeting, but that was some hours ago already. Hannah always had fun by teasing her friend with her small bladder and tried to get her sidetracked by continuing the conversation, despite her own need. This time it didn't take too long for Laura and her bladder to report themselves again. "Okay, okay, now I really have to go. I can already feel it coming. I'm nearly peeing my pants", she said, half joking, half realizing that this was no exaggeration. She tried to get up and failed in the same way as her friend. Hannah laughed about this and repeated her friend's words: "Don't let it go into your pants. Or just pee your pants, they're already wet anyway". Hannah didn't know why she said that. Laura felt a big spurt in her pants and a warmth between her legs. She could stop it. "It's not funny, Hannah. I actually peed my pants a little. I can't hold it much longer.", she said, trying to appear angry, but she was far too happy overall. Hannah felt the same: "Yes, it is funny. I now have spurted in my pants three times already. I'm thinking about giving up and just letting it go." Laura was surprised about her friend's words: "Letting it go, what do you mean? Are you peeing your pants deliberately now?". She was getting increasingly irritated as she lost another spurt and only managed to regain control after a second. "No one's talking about deliberately, it's not like I have much choice. I'm just going to relax now and... aah", Hannah moaned. Laura was surprised by this and looked between her friend's legs. Her crotch actually turned slightly darker and started glistening again. Hannah was euphoric: "it's... finally... I had to go sooo bad... It's going and going", she couldn't say a whole sentence from her relief. Both of them heard the water splatter underneath them, as Hannah's pee flowed out of her jeans, through the storm drain, directly into the water below. This was too much for Laura, she knew there would be no escape now. "But you can't... Oh dear, I'm... aah... Now I'm going too. I'm peeing in my pants!" she said, half to herself. Hannah was happy for her friend's relief and, after an eternity, was finally empty. "Now, isn't this better?", Hannah asked her friend. Laura had to agree: "I... well yeah... it is, but... But my pants were already wet, so..." - Hannah interrupted her: "-and now they're a bit wetter, exactly!'. The excitement was over quickly, the two girls got back to their wine glasses and continued their stories as if nothing happened. Even later, the girls got tired. Hannah yawned: "I think we should get going, right?" Laura agreed, it was time. Sadly, neither of them were particularly sober and thus again had problems getting up and packing up. To make things worse, both of their bladders made themselves known again. "Hannah, I think I have to go yet again. If the seal's broken, right?", Laura laughed and Hannah agreed: "Yeah, me too, me too. But we should be able to make it home, right?" It wasn't a question. What else should they do, so they got going. They had about half an hour of rural roads ahead of them. That is, half an hour when sober. In their current states, it's more likely to take an hour. At the middle of their journey home, Laura started to take increasingly smaller steps. She had to go. She was starting to realize that she wouldn't make it home if they continued so slowly. Laura slurred: "Oof, I think this is going to be close. Oh well-" Hannah looked at her friend who quickly squatted. "Laura! Are you peeing there now? But you're still wearing your pants!", Hannah asked surprisedly. Laura answered: "Well it doesn't matter anymore, does it? My pants got wet twice today and I don't want to hold it anymore". After a few seconds, Hannah could see a dark spot appear between her friend's legs, where her black underwear started to shine through again. She also saw a steady stream pattering on the ground, seemingly uninterrupted by Laura's black panties and red pants. "It's good that you squatted down. Your pants were too dry, you can clearly see a dark wet spot there.", Hannah informed her, curiously watching her friend pee. She also noticed her own bladder, but she knew that she could get home more or less dry. When Laura was finished, they continued their way. After an eternity, they reached their homes and separated. Hannah was now fully aware of her bladder and also started to feel very tired all of a sudden. "Bye, take care! Write you tomorrow", Laura said, before she continued her way home. After Hannah reached home, her first stop was the bathroom. She immediately got in there, sat down and relaxed. "Finally", she thought. But something felt wrong. Awakened from her half-asleep state, she realized what happened as she looked down on herself. She completely forgot to pull down her jeans or underwear. She quickly stopped. This accident could only be caused by her half-deliberate wetting from before, she thought. As she reflected on it, she realized that she somehow liked the feeling. She felt her now rewetted underwear stick to her and saw the dark spot on her jeans. A thought came to her: "My clothes need a washing tomorrow anyway, I could very well...". She quickly got up and into the shower. It felt weird standing in the shower fully clothed, but she liked it. "And now I'm just going to let it all flow into my pants, just like before", she thought. It didn't take long, as she still had to go pretty bad. She felt the warm wetness spread in her crotch and slowling flowing down her pants' legs. She could observe the dark wet spot growing bigger and streaks appear. She liked the view. When she was empty at last, she opened her jeans to examine her slip. If she didn't know better, she would have thought it was a dark shade of gray naturally. The formerly light gray fabric was completely drenched. She slightly pushed to let some more drops get into her pants. The gray fabric glistened again. Hannah was content with her decision to wash her clothes right away and continued. She took the shower head and first pointed it at her black socks. They couldn't get any wetter, as they were already drenched by her pee flowing out of her jeans. Hannah continued further upwards and soaked her pants' legs. She liked how her jeans got wetter and wetter the second time this evening. Reaching her crotch, she paused. She first soaked her jeans from the outside, then from the inside. She enjoyed the jet of water on her soaking wet underwear, massaging her lady parts. The jet continued upwards. She soaked the seam of her top which instantly turned transparent again. Continuing upwards, she soaked her boobs and could clearly see her red bra shine through the completely transparent longsleeved top. Hannah looked down on herself and thought that yes, in fact, she can look really sexy. Under the flowing water, she took off her jeans, which plopped heavily to the shower's floor. She observed her grey panties once again, which were also slightly transparent, as expected, and gave her a good view on what was beneath them. Next, Hannah undressed her top. Although harder said than done, she managed, and was rewarded with an undisturbed look at her glistening wet red bra. Almost sadly, she took her bra and panties off eventually. Before leaving the shower, she couldn't help but play a bit with herself. After hanging her dripping wet clothes up for drying, she smiled, thinking about her evening. It was something different. She lay down in bed and drifted off to sleep in no time. *Bierbankeffekt: Literally "beer bank effect". From "beer banks" in German-style beer halls, the long sets of table and bank. This means the sudden spike in feeling drunk as one stands up after drinking for some time.
  4. After a long day, Sosha is willing to do anything for a relaxing soak in a hot bath, even if it means peeing her pants while Alisha watches. We join Alisha in this scene as she is enjoying a lovely hot bath at the end of a long day. Sosha pops into the bathroom and strongly hints that she would like to join Alisha in the bathtub. At first, Alisha pretends not to pick up on Sosha’s hints, but eventually, she agrees to let Sosha join her on a single condition: Sosha must pee in her jeans while Alisha watches. Sosha decides that being able to join Alisha in the bath is worth it. Standing outside the tub, as Alisha watches, she goes ahead and intentionally wets her pants. The dark wet stain is clearly visible spreading on her jeans as she pees herself. We can even hear it hissing as she forcefully pisses into her pants. After she is done peeing, she steps into the tub with Alisha while still fully dressed and wearing her peed-in jeans. She settles into the tub, getting the rest of her clothes completely soaked. Alisha helps her undress in the tub and, once naked, they start making out. This quickly progresses to fingering one another and, finally, they manage to achieve near-simultaneous orgasms. Having both achieved climax, they settle into the tub to relax in one another’s arms.
  5. Just a quick clip from MTV's Jersey Shore Family Vacation showing Snooki getting into a pool fully clothed and peeing, Ive trimmed the relevant portion and uploaded it, right click and save as to download. If you want to find the original on Youtube just search Snooki pees in the pool but the clip below is the only interesting part, the rest is just them being drunken idiots as is 90% the show. Snooki_pool_ripped.mp4
  6. A pretty hot video that I just came across on Pornhub showing two women pissing on each other and then taking a shower together. https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5b9cf699d29db
  7. We thought it would be fun to make a super wet video with Alisha and Olivia taking a bath together. But, before they bathe, they pee themselves. The scene starts with Alisha and Olivia standing together in the bathtub. Alisha is wearing a camouflage shirt and light khaki colored shorts. Olivia, on the other hand, is wearing a salmon colored t-shirt and tiny pink panties. While standing in the tub, filled with bath water, they both intentionally pee in their clothes simultaneously. Their pee streams flow down their legs where it joins with the water. After they are done peeing they submerge themselves in the bath, soaking the rest of their clothes. Once completely wet, they undress each other and start kissing. The kissing soon evolves into making out and groping. Ultimately, they both end up fingering each other in the bath. After they both cum they relax together in the warm tub.
  8. 2,897 downloads

    Even more files from the Volafile pee desperation topic, ripped by yours truly. The videos that contain messing and/or nudity have been labeled as such in the screenshots. The screenshots themselves do not show the messing or nudity. A short description of each video: - 720P_1500K_144973692: Peeing in colourful pants in a bathtub - 720P_1500K_131373531: Peeing in white pants in a bathtub - 480P_600K_146118232: German girl with funky hair pees in jeans, gets into the bath clothed, then strips and masturbates - Big slacks wetting: Short video, does what it says on the tin - Back_to_Front_flusher: Woman pees jeans in front of a curtain, seen from behind, turns around at the end - Flood_4_you: Girl excitedly pees her pants - prettywetgirl_noisy_streamer!: Woman has a hissing pee in purple pants - Snuppa panics: Snuppa panics shortly, then pees her pants - HissTights+Load: Woman runs down a hall, pees white tights, turns around and messes, then strips - 76Blue AE Jeans Wetting: British woman talks about having to pee, pees her jeans, then talks dirty to you
    Free
  9. Version 1.0.0

    1,461 downloads

    A woman in jeans and high heels (and a sheer white shirt) is taken hostage in a garage and tied up. Left along, she wets herself. When her captors discover this, they are disgusted and hose her down to clean her up. She is then stripped (mostly) and masturbated noisily with a vibrator. Enjoy! Rach
    Free
  10. 176 downloads

    I soak my wet look briefs after having to go really bad! I actually peed a little on accident before I managed to start recording. Sorry for the razor burn and holiday weight, But I just had to upload this one!
    Free
  11. 933 downloads

    She wets her pants because her girlfriend keeps the bathroom locked. After that they have wetlook/water fun in the bath tub.
    Free
  12. Watch Ronica take a nice, relaxing, bath in this video. But only after she pees in her pants first. We join Ronica in this scene as she is preparing to take a bath. She enters the bathroom, starts drawing the bath, and waits for the tub to fill. As she waits, she grows ever more desperate to pee. The tub filling with water, and the sound of the faucet, conspire to torture her bladder. Eventually she gives in and pees in her pants. Once the tub is full, she steps in, still wearing her pee soaked clothes. In the tub, and fully drenched, she slowly undresses, then masturbates.
  13. Just putting a link for a lady that makes good content. This one in particular has a little bit of everything. It starts with her undressing out of her black jeans and showing herself off. Keeping a well fit sports bra on. Tight pink underwear shorts is her choice and it would be unwise to disagree. Next is her sitting down and playing until a prime little wet spot forms. This builds her anticipation in which she gets on her knees in the shower to pee. It's a sweet back view. As the wetting expands her underwear becomes transparent exposing her cute little bum. Final cut is her sitting topless with her back against the wall of the tub with the water running. Completely wet, her legs come up to slide her drenched underwear off. A lot of self enjoyment is to be had. I dig this, and I'm not even a wetlook person. Cute girl. https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5f3acc2274cc1
  14. Hello everyone, Here is another video filmed about 2 month ago but I did not have the time to edit it before. It was a rainy period and I thought to myself that it could be the opportunity to film my first wet experience in a public space. Late in that night I took my car and got to a place where people usually walk or jog during the day, everything was drenched and the sound of the flooded river near by did not help as my bladder was already full. I went for a walk to make sure the place was clear and when I reached the river it was to late, I could not help but to let it go in my jeans and Timberland boots. After that I had no choice but to wash myself a bit in the freezing cold river before heading back to my car. When going home reality hit me : "I live in a flat and I do not have a spare change of clothes". I had to walk from my car to the public parts of my residence completely wet, hopping to not meet anyone before reaching my door. I was so scared that just after crossing my entrance, a second wave of pee flooded my jeans again. After so much stress, I decided to relax in a warm bath, not even bothering to take my clothes off... I'm not able to post the full file here because it's just too heavy for the website, even in the download section (4k is 4k...) But you can watch the full 14 min video here : https://pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5e8dbae0f381a Enjoy ! 😉 My Twitter : https://twitter.com/WetMyDreams
  15. I wonder if you folks can help me. A while ago I found a series of stories written from the perspective of an American woman who, with the help of a friend, rediscovered her love of pants wetting. I think the womans name was Marcia, and one of the stories was titled Maricai's Dilemma. There was quite a list of the stories about this woman who wet herself during a time her husband was away on a business trip and discovered she really enjoyed doing it. She also discoveres her best friend is into it as well and they plan various adventures together. Here friend has a hot tub and so they not only wet there knickers but enjoy some fully clothed soakings as well. I think the web site that held these stories has dissapeared however if these details are ringing a bell and you know where they can be found could you please link them here. Alternativly if you have a copy of the stories maybe you could upload them to the Fiction section of this wonderful forum. Thanks in advance. Squirtuk
  16. The Autobiography of a Fetish. This is an extremely lengthy and updated personal history of my own sexuality and fetishes and has been written simply to help me to understand myself a little better. Through the act of putting things down on paper (metaphorically speaking!) and the thought that is required to do that I hope to shed some light on my own inner workings. Let me state right from the beginning that I enjoy my fetishes, and have no desire to spoil the enjoyment I derive from thinking, fantasising, and actually practising. There are times when I would like to know where some of the strange and wonderful kinks derive from. However, if knowing spoilt the fun, I would have lost something, and that would be a real shame. I intend to study and record my sexual history as far as I can, and see if any if I have any new insights from what I find in myself, and my history. Some of what I write predates my actual sexual awakening, at or around the time of puberty. I guess that my fetishes always gave me a sexual thrill, even prior to puberty, although I was innocent of any knowledge of sex, and so did not understand it for what it truly was. I will try and put my things in the best chronological order I can remember, I will add notes about how I felt, and the reactions I perceived I generated in others as we go. Deliberate wetting. I suspect that the first appearance of anything that could be considered a fetish was watersports. I have no idea what triggered it, but having been successfully potty trained ( and I can remember a specific event in my potty training history, when I was sat on my potty, whilst Mum sat on the toilet! No specific details, I can just picture the scene in my mind’s eye) I seemed to be dawn to the act of deliberately wetting myself. I don’t think I can remember the first time I did this, but there were periods in my very young childhood, when I would do this quite frequently. I can only have been three or four at the time, and I took a pair of my swimming trunks from the drawers in my room, where they were stored, and took them to the downstairs toilet. I put on the trunks and sat on the toilet and quite deliberately wet myself. I seem to remember the act caused me to have an erection even as I was pulling up the trunks. I knew I enjoyed the act, and I had no idea why my penis grew stiff and big as it did. This deliberate act was quite often carried out on a weekend, when the parents quite often had a bit of a lie in. I would not do it very often, sometimes weeks and months would go by before I would repeat the act. In between times I might forget about it all together. But here’s the thing. having wet my swimming trunks, I simply used to hide them. And they stank. I am ashamed to say that I never thought of just rinsing them out, letting them dry, and returning them to their rightful place. I would hide them guiltily, and find them out for my next wetting adventure, re-wetting in smelly stained trunks. And of course, every once in a while my parents would have a tidy out, driven my either simple tidiness or a need to trace a bit of a whiff! And yes, my guilty swimming trunks would be unearthed, and I was in for hell. It would always start off with the evidence and the accusation. I could not speak. I knew I was in the deepest trouble I had ever been in, and that I was in for a hiding. There was no way I could justify my actions, I was so deeply embarrassed and ashamed of my actions, and simply wanted the ground to swallow me up. I died a thousand deaths. Eventually the questioning came to an end. I could not even admit my guilt, I just wanted the whole thing to end, even the smacking I ( rightly) received was welcome as an end to the torture of the inquisition. The problem was that I just did not learn. I carried on my old ways, and the ritual of the discovery, the inquisition and severe punishment continued in a cycle, about every two to three years till after puberty. I guess it stopped when I thought of rinsing out the offending swimming trunks, and restoring them to their correct storage place. But why oh why did I not come up with that obvious solution many many years previously. In much later life, I wonder if things could have been different. Yes, I could have covered my tracks a whole lot better, and I really should have learned to do that way sooner than I did. But what I was doing was the beginnings of a sexual fetish that I feel has always been “hard-wired” within me. I could not have explained this to my parents if my life had depended on it. (at over 40 I would struggle today!!) but I often wonder if I had been able to put this idea across whether things would have made any sense to them, and things would have been different. Wet clothing On hot summer days my sister and I would be allowed to dress in our respective swimming costumes and play in the garden. Sometimes water would be involved, sometimes not. We would often end up in the bath after tea, and I would always want to be able to wear my swimming trunks into the bath. However I was always inhibited from asking this out loud, especially if we had “dried off” in the intervening time. I was always under the impression that my parents would not want to go through the hassle of having to get the swimming stuff dry again. So I would get my sister to ask if we could wear our costumes into the bath. A few times we did! From an early age I spent a lot of time at the swimming baths. My Dad took me regularly, and I enjoyed splashing about. My dad was always a good and confident swimmer, having spent his life till then regularly swimming. Mum had a phobia of water, having nearly drowned as a young girl. She knew her fear was out of control, and had taken a conscious decision to have my sister and I taught how to swim from an early age. Her thinking was that we would avoid her early fear of water, and if we ever came close to an incident the like of which she had suffered years earlier, we would be safe from drowning because of the skills we would have, and she had lacked. On one or two of the visits we made to our local swimming pool a group of teenagers came in to the pool area fully clothed. I was suddenly interested! My young mind had no knowledge of why they were there, or why they were wearing their clothes. (in later life I did some survival swimming at school, and thus found out what they were actually doing!) I imagined that they were on some sort of school trip (at least I knew about these things) and that they had changed into old clothes in case they accidentally fell into the pool, thus avoiding damage to their own clothes!) I tried to hang around to see them enter the pool, but never actually witnessed it happen, and this only served to confuse me more. Maybe they did not actually intend to swim. All of this had triggered an erection. I was ashamed of my growing penis, and had no idea what it was all about, why it got hard like that or why I seemed to like the feeling! All I knew was that I wanted to get my clothes wet! From previous incidents, I had a feeling I knew what my mother would say if I suddenly presented her with a suit of wet clothes. I knew I would be for the high jump, and would probably suffer the consequences. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think for a minute that my parents were in any way brutal, but my recollections are that they were very strict and this sort of behaviour would not be tolerated. I therefore spent hours trying to plan a way that I could get wet whilst still fully clothed, and avoid any trouble. My thinking went along the lines of, it would have to be an unavoidable accident, or an act of heroism. Unfortunately, I was never lucky enough to encounter either sort of opportunity and so for many years I planned and hoped and dreamed in vain. There was one memorable occasion, when I could have carried out my fantasy, and with full parental permission. And to this day, I have to say, I did not see the potential, and did not take advantage of it. It was bath night, after breaking for a holiday up from infant school. Dad gave me a piggyback lift into the bathroom, and turned his back to deposit me, still in my school uniform, into the bath. He was joking about and did not really force me into the water, however I struggled against him, and he only relented when I had to put a be-socked foot into the water to prevent falling in completely. Why did I fight him off? Why did I not just flop into the warm welcoming water, and enjoy the feeling of my wet clothes? I will never have a satisfactory answer to that. Another question you could ask is, was I being tested? From subtle reactions over the years, I have often wondered if my Dad was a bit of a wet clothes fetishist. I guess I will never know. I guess talking of sex, fantasies, and fetishes is not a conversation that I could ever imagine having with my father!!! Was he trying me out, had he seen some reactions in me, and was testing the waters ( ha ha!) Or am I reading far more into a piece of fun, than was actually there? In junior school at the age of maybe 10 or so, as one of the competent swimmers I was trained for, and tested on “survival swimming”. This entailed wearing some light clothes, initially just a pair of pyjamas, over a standard swimming costume, and swimming a reasonable distance. At long last I was able to (legally) get some clothes wet in a swimming pool! I was so excited about this, and I can remember talking to my school chums about it, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell them why. When I got to the kernel of the whole thing, I would become embarrassed, and fight shy of telling the actual truth. I enjoyed the swimming lessons, and did very well it, progressing to the gold standard, which I passed ( just) I wore the badges with pride on a pair of trunks. However, I always wanted to go one step further and pee myself, prior to getting in the pool. However, we wore our swimsuits to the poolside, and then dressed in our clothes to train for the survival test, so I was never able to manufacture a scenario when I could pee in dry clothes and the get into the pool undetected. So I never managed it. Just a foot note here to tie things together. We went camping one weekend, and were going to go off swimming. Mum presented me with one of my pairs of swimming trunks, to go swimming with, but I was intent on using the trunks with my badges on. I had taken them camping with us, quite independently of the main packing that Mum had done. I went to get them out, and was challenged by Dad, asking my if I had “messed in them!” meaning wet them ( I had not ever dabbled in anything more than that!) The trunks were clean, and I took delight in showing him that his suspicions were unfounded. My poor parents must have wondered what the hell was going on with me, wanting to urinate in my swimming trunks, when they had spent so much effort teaching potty training! As I progressed to senior school, I have to comment that was still very innocent of anything sexual. I had not discovered masturbation, and I still had no idea of sex in any way shape or form. I was probably 12 heading towards 13 when I was told about masturbation, by a friend, who was a year younger than me. Suddenly my swimming trunk wetting sessions took on a whole new meaning! Although if memory serves I had yet to discover the safety that rinsing the evidence away would have afforded, I think at this stage there was one final parental conformation left before I discovered the bleeding obvious solution. On this occasion, I was able to mumble that I was guilty of the charges that were being laid against me, but I could say no more, even when questioned (at some length) as to the reasons behind my indefensible actions. On this final occasion, I avoided a damn good hiding, I was of an age where this was no longer the final course of punishment. At this stage I had also progressed very well in survival swimming and was practising for the "honours" award, which involved swimming in what was effectively a full suit of clothes. I practised and practised, but was never quite good enough. One of the teachers suggested that there was a little wrinkle I could use to improve my time. The rules stated that either trousers or a skirt should be worn, but did not state that a skirt could only be worn by female entrants. I never did have the bottle to attempt the swim in a skirt. I was more concerned about the ribbing I would take amongst my school chums about wearing the skirt, than actually achieving the award. All the time I was plotting how I could wet myself prior to entering the pool, but as before the presence of school chums, and teachers precluded a pre swimming wetting session. The best I could manage one day was to leave the pool, in my wet clothes, visit the toilet, and sit and pee in my already wet trousers. I then went to the shower to rinse my clothes of my pee, before changing to go home. Masturbation and fantasising drove a lot of things for many years. The basic premise has never changed, though the details differ from day to day to keep the fantasy fresh. The basic premise has always been that of a partially or completely clothed woman deliberately wetting herself, before getting completely drenched, and having delightful sex, with me. There is never any coercion in my fantasies. The woman of my dreams enjoys the kinks for her own sexual needs, and is only too happy to partake in the act for her own excitement, as well as mine! I suppose the whole fantasy stemmed from one of two precepts, A) The woman had not tried clothed wetness before, and found she really liked it when she tried it, or B) the woman had a secret fetish that she was deeply ashamed of, and it all came out with me that she enjoyed such things, and we enjoyed or mutual fetish to the full. Some when around this time, I started to imagine that my female co-conspirator would be attired in a one piece swimsuit, and the third and final part of my fetish trilogy became set in concrete. Pornography During an after school activity a school friend introduced me to pornography. He had a magazine, and for some reason, was keen to show it to me. This was probably the first time I had seen the naked female form in all its graphic fullness. Yes, of course I had witnessed my mother and my sister with no clothes on, but they were not actively displaying their genitals, and giving me the “come on” eyes! Initially I found the images exciting, however, this quickly paled. I have seldom found any “traditional” porn that excites or satisfies. As time went on, I stumbled across the odd “wetlook” article, or letter in a magazine. The location of this rare commodity made all the searching worthwhile, but I had to do a lot of searching for the odd nugget! It was many years before I found a knicker wetting article, and when I did I practically came in my pants! One of the biggest relief’s was thinking that I am not alone! The dreadfully embarrassing stand-offs with my parents had taught me that pant wetting was generally not socially acceptable. In fact I felt very guilty about my awful dreadful disgusting indefensible desires. I felt so alone in the world, and would never have dared whisper my deepest secrets to anybody. How could I have discussed this sexual deviation with someone I loved. I longed to find a partner to share my fantasies, a water nymph, if you will. But I lacked the confidence to actually approach a girl, and make the initial contact. I was always frightened off by the idea of frightening her off! My “lack of success with the ladies" dogged me well into adult life. That and an inferiority complex approximately the size of Wales that was probably partly due to my fetishes and my expectations to the reactions they would invoke. I did have a brief sexual relationship at the age of about 24. Yes, I popped my cherry, but it was never a really satisfying relationship, and never once did we even mention likes, dislikes or fetishes in any way. The lady wet her pants hundreds of times, wore swimsuits times without number, bathed swam and showered fully clothed countless times for me. But only ever in my mind and never in reality. In truth we never even bathed together naked. Our relationship and the circumstances never allowed for it. WAM Sometime around this time my searching through “normal” pornographic magazines disclosed an industry that specialised in special interest material some of which interested me. The WAM (Wet and Messy) genre had people out there supplying material for the likes of me. At around the same time Splosh magazine started up with the intention of making money in this previously un-exploited area. I lapped up the material like a drowning man grabbing at a life-belt! However, as time went on, the content, like normal pornography, after the initial rush, paled. I was often left thinking, “yes, very nice, but if only…… she had done this, worn that…. I soon discovered quite a compartmentalisation of kinks, and quite a sniffy attitude by officianardos of each one. There was the WAM brigade, who would not countenance either swimsuits or anything associated with peeing and quite often will not brook anything like nudity! The knicker wetting brigade also hate swimsuits, and seldom carry on a wetting session into full immersion. Both genres seem to give their work the air of childish innocent fun by completely failing to give any hint of sexual overtone to the whole proceedings. The WAM brigade seem to think that you have to be properly and fully clothed in street clothes, to be proper WAM, the people who like to swim in their clothes seem to have a fanatic hatred of swimsuits, and seem to want to have them banned from the face of the earth, as they are not proper clothes, and only proper clothes will do to swim in! They also seem to be quite disgusted by urine. Quite an odd position to take when you think of some of the substances and chemicals they subject their clothes and genitalia to. (Fresh urine (at source) is usually sterile and has been used for generations by some peoples as a sterilisation agent, when necessary) Maybe I can see a little bit of a point though. There is a contingent of the knicker wetting faction who are in to “panty pooping” as well. This does not do it for me. In fact I would say that generally find the idea of defecating in my clothes quite disgusting. I guess we all draw the line somewhere! The funny thing is that it seems it’s the producers of the material that make these strong distinctions. I read a number of forums on the internet and have noticed that although the official line of the particular forum may be wetlook only with no wetting, a sizeable number of the posters either allude to the “banned” activities on the Forum, or post on other forums where they can openly discuss their “illicit” activities. Once in a while you find a producer who will do some “crossover material” A knicker wetting scene becomes a wetlook (WAM) scene, or a messy (mud or food) scene goes on to become a wetlook scene as the model is shown, still dressed in their clothes, showering to clean up from the session. Very few producers actually give a sexual element to the wet ( or messy) work they are portraying. Maybe they are trying to get their work out “under the censors” However, think this is a waste of time and opportunity. The work is always sold and classed as pornography. Why not be adult and up front about the whole thing. Buyng my own Flat I was still living at home, which greatly hampered any wet activity of almost any sort. The relationship (I have mentioned above) sort of spurred me on to buying my first flat. My parents were quite strict about such things, and would not have sanctioned any sexual activity of any sort, on their premises. My first flat was to be a love nest of sorts. Unfortunately the relationship broke down, and we broke up before the purchase of the flat was completed. What little sex we had enjoyed had been limited by our lack of our own space and time, and, to be blunt, the single fact that my “girlfriend” had used the relationship simply for her own needs. She had wanted some warm company, rather than a loving relationship. Yep, I had been used! Many years later as the saying goes, I’m not bitter! I was very bitter about the relationship, but she really did me a favour as far as the property market goes! She also did me a great favour as far as having my own flat was concerned. I had dreamed of this time for years. The opportunity to bath fully clothed whenever I wanted, to pee in my pants at will, and generally to enjoy the lack of limitations that had been imposed on me by having to hide my desires away from the parental family. If memory serves, the expected and anticipated explosion of wet activity simply did not occur to the extent you might have thought it would. Yes I did bath and shower fully clothed, and I did use the toilet without the traditional removal of all my clothing, but maybe not as much as I could potentially have done. One of the reasons was that I seemed to be hamstrung by my own paranoia. My wet sessions were always carried out within the privacy and security of my own flat ( later my own house) but quite often the thought would occur to me, whilst I was in the shower that the outer wall would collapse, leaving me in full view to the waiting masses outside, and the embarrassing secret of my fetish would become common knowledge to the world at large. Swimsuits It was probably also about this time that I bought my first ladies one piece swimsuit. I had fantasised for years about all aspects of wet sex with a woman who was wearing a swimsuit, and was eager to try it out for real. I also thought it would be very exciting thing to try on for myself. I’m not sure I can remember the circumstances of buying my first swimsuit. I had to deal with the embarrassment and paranoia of the “man buying in the lingerie department” feelings, and would always choose strange towns where there would be no chances of being recognised. After all the whole world, and their dog, knew that I was a solitary wanker unable to get a girlfriend!!! so I had to be a pervert, why else would I want a ladies swimsuit. I hunted through charity shops and the like, but would be scared off by the battle-axe behind the counter! I think my first swimsuit might have been bought on a booze cruise to France. The lack of language, and the false bravado of being well away from my own country allowed me to finally make the purchase I wanted to. The first few wet sessions were wonderful. I enjoyed every aspect of wetting showering and masturbating in the swimsuit, but with the added bonus of the thrill of wearing something that society would not generally expect me to wear. I feel I need to add another margin note here. Up to this time I had often masturbated in the clothes I was wearing at the time, and that was not without its problems. Generally speaking the waist band of my pants or swimming trunks would be just in the wrong place to be able to manipulate me penis in the way that I would generally masturbate. The ladies swimsuit was almost always a sensually fitting garment, with a continuous front panel. I am able to grasp the head of my penis through the lycra based material and enjoy a pleasurable wank without the limitations imposed by the waist band of my pants!. The internet Next came the internet. At this time I was subscribing to a couple of British based magazines. Splosh and another magazine called Cascade. (Cascade was a cottage industry fetish magazine produced by a couple from their own home, with the aid of a photocopier. It dealt with all aspects of “watersports”. During the time I subscribed to them they were raided by the police, and prosecuted under our prurient and ancient obscene publications act. What a complete waste of public money and effort! What harm were they causing?) The magazines made mention of some sites on a new technology platform called the internet. Well I had a computer, without a modem at the time, and thought I might like to have a look at some of this. The reason I did not was simple. I had some friends, who were quite clever with computers, and I feared that they would be able to go on line at the same time as me, and “hack” into my computer, to see what I was looking at. To this day there are only a couple of friends who have any idea about my fetishes, and there are only two other people (my partners) (more later) who have any idea of the whole picture. Eventually I was persuaded that there was no way that another person could hack into my computer, via the internet, and my life on the internet began. (Possibly no longer quite accurate, but I no longer care!) I have to comment that the internet has not changed my life, other than giving me access to a greater range of material and allowing me to see that I am not alone in my fetishes. There are people out there who are as weird as me, if not a damn site weirder! Maybe I am being a bit untruthful here. I do spend a lot of time on the internet, and visit my favourite fetish sites on a (at least) daily basis. I probably spend an average of up to an hour a day surfing these sites. I make it a rule not to spend money subscribing to any pay sites, though if I find a specific item on a pay-site, I have been known to take a short term subscription to be able to download a particular photo-set. (Usually swimsuit wetting), I see that as being no different to buying a photoset via the post. Sleeping and Dreams I need to say, right from the start, that I do not seem to have positive sexual dreams. That is to say, I have never had a "wet dream" about getting wet. I have had many dreams about my sexual fetishes, but they tend to be of the "paranoid" variety. There are a couple of themes that come up quite often. The first is a variation of the walking down the street stark naked which has me in some "social" situation where I suddenly find myself wearing nothing but a woman’s one piece swim suit. I start by doing the "act normally" thing and if I pretend I am not wearing what I am wearing everyone will ignore me, but I soon become embarrassed and have to run away. The second theme goes like this. I find a shower or something similar, and decide that it would be a good place to enjoy a swimsuit shower. I put on a ladies swimsuit, and start to shower. Part way through my shower I realise that the shower has a window, or is somehow overlooked, and I end up trying to hide my "lack of" nakedness, thinking I would prefer to be naked rather than being seen in a swimsuit! I usually sleep quite well, it is a rare night if I disturb. I have tried on several occasions to sleep for the night in a swimsuit, however I rarely succeed. I don't sleep as deeply and disturb a lot easier. It does seem to trigger a dream about a swimsuit, but it is always one of the "negative" paranoid dreams. The Partner. You might notice the non name specific terms used throughout this essay. This is done on purpose to allow myself full and frank expression, and will probably become apparent within this section. After many single years as a dyed in the wool "Billy no girlfriends wanker" I hooked up with a wonderful woman. We delayed diving into a physical relationship for, for what seemed like a long time at the time, but in reality was not actually that long. We went away for a weekend, and enjoyed quite a lot of wonderful "vanilla" sex. This was only the second woman I had ever slept with and from the word go the whole experience was by far and away orders of magnitude better than anything I had experienced before. Towards the end of the weekend my lady asked me if there was anything specific that she could do for me. I felt emboldened by the complete openness we had shared over the weekend. I thought at that stage I ought to come out with everything. I had to tell her all about me, because our new relationship required the complete truth. If this was going to be a relationship breaker, probably better to get it over with before we had invested too much of our emotions. I decided "in for a penny..." So I stared at the least contentions point. I had a swimsuit thing going. I like women in swimsuits, and hoped to have sex with her wearing a swimsuit. I also let on about my collection of ladies swimming costumes, and how I used them for my own pleasure. This could actually have been a problem as we had already been swimming together, and I had probably enjoyed the experience more than I would have done under "normal" circumstances! I also went on to say that I thought a one piece swimsuit was the sexiest garment a woman could wear and that if she wanted to wear anything to excite me then, rather than sexy underwear, a swimsuit would do it for me every time. No screams of horror or disgust yet! Next one then. I then went on to say that I liked the thought of a woman getting wet whilst still fully clothed, specifically for the sexual thrill of doing so. Again, no cries of shock as yet. I was thinking of holding out on the final show stopper, but thought it was better to get it over with, so hesitantly I went on, realising that this was where the disgust would be expressed, if it was going to be forthcoming. And before actually getting wet, I would like a woman to deliberately wee in her clothes. Silence. I went on to try and describe the difference between accidentally wetting your pants, and the deliberate wilful act of gratuitous sexual wetting. More silence. My heart was in my mouth. Had I just gone a bridge to far, and ruined the whole deal. I was about to add that if she was completely disgusted I would drop the subject and never mention it again when my partner spoke up. Her first comment was to say that some of my “kinks” has surprised her a bit as she had not ever considered such things as being sexual, she did however go on to ask me if my ultimate dream would be to have her pee in a bathing suit. She had hit the nail on the head and I had to admit that it was the zenith of my hopes and dreams. My partner apologised for not having bought a swimsuit away with us, and suggested that we could buy one in the town where we were staying. However we had to check out of the hotel, and make our way home, so we decided to wait until we were on home territory before we embarked on our new wet adventures. We returned to my home, and more or less went straight to bed. After a while my girlfriend asked me if I had a swimsuit she could borrow as she had been saving up her pee and was ready to try and make a dream come true. I produced a swimsuit for her, as well as one for myself and we went into the bathroom. Toilet training is a hard thing to break after over forty years and it took quite a while before my girlfriend managed to dampen her gusset a little. Following this I was keen to get her into the shower before she got cold and disgusted and we showered in our swimsuits and made love. For about two years we had a very full and very wet sex life, although it was to be a little longer before we set up home together. During that time we explored our new found sexual freedom to the full. Although we did enjoy an awful lot of wet sex we also partook of a lot of standard “vanilla” sex as well. Many’s the time she would arrive at my house after work, dressed and ready for an evening’s wet entertainment! She would be wearing clothes that would not be harmed by a good dousing, as well as a swimsuit instead of the more usual bra and panties. More often than not she would also have a very full bladder, which needed urgent relief. Sometimes so urgent that we only had time to get her into the shower, but not enough time to divest herself of her clothing in the more traditional way, before she let go and soaked herself. This was of course followed by a shower, and lovemaking with both of us still fully clothed as far as we were able to be! On more than one occasion I had to dry and redress before I could go out to her car to bring in her weekend bag so that she could redress in dry clothing. I also bought a hot tub and set it up so that we could enjoy frequent clothed wet sessions! Having a female presence in the house did mean that I could be more open about my collection of swimsuits. I was also able to purchase them more openly. In addition to this we would go shopping together and if we found a suitable swimsuit we would buy it for her!! (nudge nudge wink wink!!!) I had also become more emboldened about wearing swimsuits and began wearing them on holiday but only on deserted beaches with my partner. I enjoyed swimming in the sea in a swimsuit, but was always watching for people approaching the beach so I could remove the suit prior to them arriving. As time as gone by I have become less paranoid, thinking that I doubted if anybody noticed me wearing a ladies swimsuit, they would give a damn!!! A couple of times I wore a ladies swimsuit on a beach where there were other people, although always as far away from other people as possible. On each of these occasions someone would make a point of walking along the beach, right past us, to see if the pervert in the swimsuit. Nothing was ever said and I always simply ignored them! What I thought as our absolutely brilliant sex life continued for a little while before my girlfriend approached me and said that she “did not want to do the peeing thing anymore” If I thought about it I was probably not going to be too surprised at this turn of events. In my heart of hearts I knew that the whole knicker-wetting thing was probably going to be the most controversial part of my desires. In fact I think that the fear of losing many a disgusted girlfriend at the mere mention of a wetting session had probably dogged me for life and contributed to my very late start in the world of relationships and sex. And I get that. Toilet training is drummed into us as such a young age, and probably gives rise to the concept that bodily waste is all dirty and disgusting, and to be disposed of, without delay, in shameful privacy. We are also taught that clothing is to be kept clean and dry and pristine at all times. Society teaches us that only the weak infirm and the very young suffer from incontinence, and that this is embarrassing beyond all measure when it occurs. Couple this with the, quite common, issue of female incontinence and you can start to see why the concept of gloriously, deliberately and electively pissing in her clothes does not fill the average woman with sexual delight and frenzy that would lead here to want to continue to the ultimate romance of uninhibited lovemaking. At that time I was keen to reassure my girlfriend that I had never wanted to ask her to do anything that she did not want to do, and that any desire I felt to see a female pee herself was based entirely on the person doing so for reasons of sexual pleasure, and not, in any way, because she had been forced or coerced into the act. Obviously I was keen to continue our wonderful wet sex life, so I asked her if she was still OK with everything else, including swimming costumes and wet clothing, and she assured me that she was. I went on to ask her if she minded if I continued with wetting myself, and again she said she was happy for me to do so. So for a while our wet life continued, though, if I was being honest, I really missed her wetting sessions prior to getting soaked. However these became few and far between, and as, with many relationships, did any form of sex. I continued to practice my lonely wet sessions, but these had really become little more than regularly wearing a one piece swimsuit into the shower when I bathed, as well as wearing one to the beach whilst we were on holiday abroad. A little while later my partner suggested moving in together and I thought this was a wonderful idea. Our new domestic arrangements did not however bring with it a resurgence of our early sex lives. I need to put on record the fact that whilst we were not actively involved in a sex life my partner still encouraged me to enjoy my kinks to the full. At no time did she belittle me. It was a little while later that I discovered a letter in a “gentelmans” magazine written by bloke telling about a house that was for rent with a private indoor swimming pool, his story sold of a week spent soaking his clothes on whim. I thought I liked the sound of that and enquired where I could find the house. I also approached my partner, to see if she would countenance a week of holiday where I could indulge in my most basic desires. To my surprise and amazement she agreed, and for a week I was going to be able to live my fetish. The plan for the week went something like, I would not take any normal underwear, or male swimwear instead I took my collection of ladies one pieces. We would wear nothing that could not be washed, which meant that we could swim in whatever clothes we were wearing. Maybe it’s the fact that I have not ever had the opportunity to “play” in a swimming pool that has given the whole thing an extra zing, although I’d had fully clothed wet sex with my partner in the shower, and the hot tub, actually getting to do it in a swimming pool had a whole new appeal, just the thought of it was enough to give me a raging erection in anticipation. Now, as I have stated above, my partner and I were not enjoying a “full and regular” sex life at the time, and I was quite certain that sex in the pool was going to be a “singular” activity. However I was pleasantly surprised when we had our first swim in the pool. I had worn clothes down to the house that I intended to swim in (including the obligatory swimsuit!) However my partner was less keen and had decided to change in to a one piece before swimming, As we entered the pool enclosure, she was keen to enter the pool, whilst I hung back to enjoy the pre soaking delights of peeing my pants. I did not want to spoil the moment, and so had been a little discreet about urinating in my clothes, and I’m not sure she was completely aware that I had done so. I then stood on the pool side and prepared to dive in. At this stage she was in the pool, and looked up at me. I’m not sure if I expected a look of disgust, or grudging acceptance, but I was surprised at what I did see. My partner smiled at me in a knowing and accepting way. I was a happy bunny, I was with someone I could be open with and share my deepest fantasies with, who accepted them, and allowed me to fulfil every dream. I wearing the clothes I wanted to wear, had been able to pee in them fully, and was about to soak them further by diving in to the pool, I was in heaven, and had the erection to prove it. I dived in, and enjoyed the completely different feeling that clothes take on when you are immersed in water. We swam a couple of lengths, and I then went over to my partner and embraced her, and we kissed. She was welcoming!! This was a welcome development. We snuggled, and kissed, we enjoyed foreplay! This was getting better all the time, It got a whole lot better when I pulled the gusset of her swimsuit to one side, whilst she undressed me and we had full sex, in the pool, still in most of my clothes! I got to swim in the pool three or four times a day, whilst my partner managed only once a day or so, each time I swam I went in wearing a full suit of clothes, usually wet with pee, and always masturbated in the pool, but usually on my own. My partner gave me the privacy to play with myself! On two occasions she dressed up to swim with me, and we has sex in the pool whilst still clothed. Towards the end of the week the novelty has worn a little thin, and I was not enjoying the thrill as much as the initial rush when we first arrived. I guess I had sort of hoped that this might have re-ignited our sex lives somewhat, however at the end of the week we returned to our home and to our celibate life together. A year or so later I had a hankering to return to the holiday home for another wet week. Again my partner agreed, but it was clear here heart was not really in it. Blinkered and blind to her reservations I went ahead and booked the house again, and commenced planning another hedonistic and damp holiday away from normality. I should have realised things were not going well from the start. My partner came and swam with me in the pool, but despite suggestions and requests, wore a bikini rather than a one piece swimsuit. Now bikinis are OK, to a small extent, but they are not one piece swimsuits! And I really like one piece swimsuits. We did, however, make love a couple of times away from the pool, which was a very welcome change to our usual sexless routine. Then one evening, whilst we were still on the holiday, my partner sat on one of the sofas and began to tell me that she had had her first sexual experience, in a public swimming pool, whilst dressed in a one piece swimsuit at a time when she had been sexually quite young. The incident had been entirely consensual, it had, however left her physically hurt and bleeding. In tears she told me that she had gone home, but her parents refused to call a doctor. She was instead put to bed in shame for two weeks whilst her injuries healed. This, she said, was the reason she did not want to wear a swimsuit. Anyone who does not have a heart of pure stone would have expected me to go and comfort here at this point. Reassure her that everything was fine, and that if she did not want to wear a swimsuit she really did not have to wear one. Looking back it is with huge shame that that is exactly what I did not do! Our relationship, in general, had become quite difficult by this time. And my thinking was that, given her initial wholesale acceptance of my kinks and fetishes, her story could not be true. I honestly thought that she had fabricated it as a pretence to avoid sex. Later that same year, amongst accusations of me having a sick mind and needing to seek help, we parted. Looking back I can’t say I blame her. In my heart of hearts I’d also like to be able to apologise to her. Much though there were other reasons for the break up, and I was not a saint on many counts, she did have a point. To this day I am deeply ashamed for my shortcomings towards her. Not really wanting to return to a single life I sought new love, making use of a couple of dating sites on the internet. Within a very short period of time I hooked up with another woman. From the start the relationship was different. We did not however delay the leap into a physical relationship as I had done seven years, or so, before with my now Ex. By now I had become very accustomed to showering in a swimsuit and had no desire to discontinue this practice. This did however mean that on many occasions there was a damp swimming costume drying in the bathroom. I had to explain to my new girlfriend that she need not be concerned. This was not evidence of other female company, but simply a sign of my obsession with ladies one piece swimming costumes. Once again I had decided that if this was going to be a deal breaker in the relationship it was better to get it over with at an early stage. Again I was surprised at the response. She assured me that she was not concerned about such things. She went on to say that she had several friends who were gay, and had suffered for many years coming to terms with their feelings. She was happy that I was able to be open and honest about my sexual desires. Emboldened by our discussions I went on to tell her about my wetlook and knicker wetting kinks as well. I felt I needed to be completely open and honest if we were going to make any sort of life together though I did emphasise that what I was saying was a statement of my likes and not a list of demands that she was going to have to fulfil! Again there were no screams of disgust, just a quiet acceptance and reflection. She did speak up to say that she disliked one piece swimming costumes, and the idea of making love whilst fully clothed, wet or otherwise, was a bit of an anathema to her as she hated anything other than “skin to skin” contact under these circumstances. She did not however, belittle my desires or do anything to shoot down my dreams. As I mentioned above this was a different time altogether. Our sex life continued and initially she was very patient with my particular personal likes and kinks, though she did not play the games in full. There were several times that she wore a swimsuit in the shower as well as the hot tub, and these were usually preceded with a wetting. Unfortunately my new soggy partner drew the line at wearing any other clothes in the water. But hey, half a loaf is better than no bread! Initially she was also happy to “play along” if we were out and I saw a swimsuit I might like to buy. Initially I was very happy. As time went by however our sex life dwindled to nothing, as did her acceptance of my “strange” habits. I suspect that the approach and onset of the menopause has turned her desires away from lovemaking and all of the manifestations of a varied sex life. We have even got to point where if I put on a swimsuit under my clothes to wear during a normal day I get quite a glare and a very short tempered enquiry. “--Why did you put THAT on,-- You’re NOT going out dressed like that are you,-- and the like. We are in the privileged position to live in a place where we can contemplate putting in a pool, which will not come as a surprise is one of the things I have always wanted to do! In the early stages of the planning she made some comment along the lines of....... and whatever it you’ll want to do in the pool! As if she had absolutely no idea... I guess it just signifies that she does not want to countenance my, albeit slightly off the beaten track, fantasies! She has not yet said anything to curtail my shower sessions, but I can see this looming on the horizon. I really don’t think I’m doing anyone any harm, other than enjoying a sexual fantasy at a time when she would rather prefer that the whole concept of sex did not exist. I find myself trying to tread the path between “not rubbing her nose in it” and “going completely behind her back”. My guess is that sometime in the near future we will have to have a discussion, I just hope that it will not be at the top of our voices. I think that an outright ban on my wet swimsuit wearing activities would simply drive me “underground”. Final Thoughts, or at least the beginning of the end! I think that I am quite well balanced in my attitude towards my fetishes. (Ask my partner and get a completely different answer!) I recognise that most of it would be thought of as a bit odd, if not plain weird by society in general. I am actually quite happy about that. It does give an extra angle to think that I am enjoying something that would be generally frowned upon! I also see it for what it is, a fetish or two or three). I don’t want to change the world, I don’t want any of this to “become the norm” it is different, it is special, and I want to keep it that way, less it become common place, and boring! I think there is something buried quite deeply into the British psyche, which both hides our real sexual drives away, and at the same time feeds on the naughtiness of the taboo. (I’m guessing that in other cultures people can be more open about their sexual habits and desires) However, here we tend to hide our inner selves away. I think this becomes quite an important part of our nature, and gives our kinks an extra buzz. I’m fast approaching the age of sixty, and expect that some people, probably including my partner, would expect sex to be a thing of the past. However, I do not feel ready to leave that world behind. I still have an eye for a pretty woman, though I would agree that the upper end of the age bracket does keep widening! I think I am sometimes in grave danger of getting labelled as a dirty old man! If I have one big regret in my life it is this. My inferiority complex and the fear of provoking disgust and rejection inhibited me from forming relationships during the early and middle part of my adult life. Inhibitions that, in later life, have proved to be not entirely founded in reality. Neither of my long term partners expressed disgust at my fantasies and both of them played along, to a greater or lesser extent. All too late I have learned the lesson – It was never the issue I assumed it would be. In short I feel that I missed out on an awful lot of sex!!! I’m of an age, and in a stable relationship, that probably means that a regular sex life within a loving relationship is very much a thing of the past. So basically I’ve shot my bolt! I also kind of understand that unless you are lucky enough to find a partner with a common fantasy to share then one of you is going to be “going through the motions” to please the other one. This is only going to be a temporary phase which will quickly pale and will, most likely, have a detrimental effect on your lovemaking in general. Ah well. At least I have some happy memories to fall back on. Who was it who said that “Sic glorius transit mudie” The glories of life are fleeting?
  17. 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.
  18. Hey everyone! I’ve been super sick lately and haven’t felt like doing much, so here’s a video of me peeing through my pajama pants because I didn’t feel like taking them off. IMG_0742.MOV
  19. Just came across this great jeans wetting video on Pornhub. I don't think I've seen it posted here before (warning: nudity) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5a38bf07429b0
  20. Came across another hot jeans wetting video on Pornhub. I haven't seen it before so hopefully it's not a repost. Link: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5afdd82f03791 Here's the rip: Jeans Wetting and Fully Clothed Bath - Pornhub.com.mp4
  21. I recently came across this pretty neat video on Pornhub. Hopefully it's not a repost. https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5af5e027df5d6
  22. hope this isnt a repost. also, Goodness Gracious Me. and you get to see her face! https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5af5e027df5d6
  23. View File Kidnap Victim Wets etc. A woman in jeans and high heels (and a sheer white shirt) is taken hostage in a garage and tied up. Left along, she wets herself. When her captors discover this, they are disgusted and hose her down to clean her up. She is then stripped (mostly) and masturbated noisily with a vibrator. Enjoy! Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 07/29/2016 Category Pants Wetting
  24. Jenny and Ann: A swimming fantasy. This is a piece written to appeal to my own particular fantasies. I enjoy aspects of wetting, wetlook and female one piece swimsuits. I wanted to write a piece that had a woman swimming fully clothed, without any embaressment, with another swimming in a swimsuit. The following is the result. As awlays I quite enjoy a bit of back story about "discovery" and the single idea that other people out there also enjoy my particular kinks. So if this is your thing, please read on. Positive critisisms are always welcome, though negative comments will probably be written off with the suggestion to go and write something better! Anyway, here we go! Jenny and Ann were good friends, both were professional married thirty something’s who were lucky enough not to have to work full time. A couple of days a week they were ladies of leisure, which usually meant a trip to the gym to keep their bodies lithe! Which is where they had met. They recognised the enjoyment in each other of keeping fit and soon after their friendship blossomed Ann invited Jenny over to her house, to have a swim in their indoor pool. For a couple of months things went, well, swimmingly, both women felt relaxed in each other’s company, and they enjoyed the mutual times together keeping up their fitness, and generally gossiping and chatting as they swam. However one week things suddenly became interesting! As they swam up and down the reasonably short pool their conversation had turned to sex, and specifically sex with their husbands, and the little games they played. Ann let slip that one of the reasons they had bought the house with the pool was that she and her husband both enjoyed something called wetlook. Jenny was a bit lost at this, having not come across the term before now, and asked Ann to explain. But Ann became extremely embarrassed at this point saying something along the lines of having said too much. The subject was changed and the conversation moved on to other subject whilst they continued their weekly swim. However the following week, Jenny again visited for their weekly swim meet. She was welcomed by her host, Ann, at the door as usual, and they gently wandered through the reasonably well to do house to the rear parts where the pool and changing area was situated. Both were casually dressed in jeans and blouses, and as soon as they arrived in the changing room Jenny plonked her swimming bag down and proceeded to remove her clothing in readiness for her swim. She had stripped to her underwear, and was rummaging in her sports bag to pull out her swimsuit, when she noticed than Ann was just stood with her arms folded, leaning against the wall, still continuing to chat, as they normally did, but making no effort to change. “You not swimming today? Asked jenny, somewhat perplexed that Ann was not changing into her swimsuit. At this point Ann blushed a little, and then said rather hesitantly that she was going to swim, but, she wasn’t going to change. “What do you mean”? Said Jenny, “surely you’re going to put on your swimsuit to swim aren’t you?” “No, I’m not” said Ann suddenly finding some courage to admit a dark secret. “I really quite like getting my clothes wet, and I hope you don’t mind if I swim with them on today” “Well, it’s your pool” said Jenny “and I guess you can do anything you want to, as long as it’s legal, she added with a smile on her face. “is this the “wetlook” you mentioned last week? “I guess it is” said Ann, becoming emboldened that she had seemingly broached the subject with her friend, without any reproach. “Are you OK with it, ‘cause if you think it’s really weird I can always take my clothes off like normal” “No no no, “said Jenny” if that’s what you want to do, please go right ahead. Feel free, I hope we’re good friends, and I’m pleased that you seem to value our friendship enough to admit be able to own up to your little enjoyment. “Oh, thanks Jenny, I was really concerned you might think me really weird wanting to swim in my clothes, it’s not the sort of thing normal people seem to do”. “I guess it isn’t, but hey, I don’t reckon it does anybody any harm, and if you enjoy it, why should you not. You have a lovely private pool here, and I think I’m starting to understand why now! Let me just finish getting changed and we can have our swim.” With that Jenny stripped off her underwear, something she had done many times before in the presence of Ann and proceeded to clamber into her powder blue simple T back sports one piece swimsuit, an action that most women find a little difficult to do with very much grace. However this time, she fumbled a bit more than usual, and ended up turning to her waiting friend stuttering and blushing as she did. “Whilst we’re talking of such things,” Jenny said, “I might have a little confession to make myself” “You don’t like wet clothing as well do you”? Ann asked in a slightly hopeful voice, thinking that the slight discomfort of her admission could be lessened. “Well, you’ve been open enough to share your little diversion, and I feel I ought to redress the balance by admitting to mine” stuttered Ann. “Well, like you said, as long as it’s legal” encouraged Jenny, “go ahead, we’re all girls here, and after my rather embarrassing confession, I don’t think I can be really shocked by anything! ” “The thing is, it is quite embarrassing!” stuttered Ann, slumping to the little bench that ran down the short wall of the changing area. “I promise it will go no further than these walls” said Ann, trying to put Jenny at her ease. How bad can it be? Come on, you can tell me, how much more embarrassing can it be than admitting I like to swim in all my clothes, that’s the action of a mad woman. Come on you can tell me, after all we’re all girls together”. “Well the thing is, “faltered Jenny, “well, before I swim, I like to get a little wet first” This only drew a puzzled expression from Ann. She could see that Jenny was deeply embarrassed by what she was trying to say, so she went and sat next to her on the bench, putting her arm around her, still trying to fathom what she was getting at. “You mean you get a bit excited by going for a swim?” floundered Ann, wondering what she meant about “getting a bit wet” “Well, yes,” said Jenny, “but it’s not really the going for a swim, it’s what I do beforehand. “ “Curious and getting more curious by the second” said Ann “whatever it is you do obviously excites you, so why don’t you tell me what it is”. “Well,” Ann almost whispered, “before I go for a swim, “again a pause, “ I like to go into the toilet” another long pause, “and I sort of, well, I... I wet myself; I sit on the toilet and quite deliberately wee in my costume. There, I’ve said it now. I would understand if you were completely disgusted and never wanted to speak to me again. You must think me very childish.” “I’m not disgusted, “ said Ann, “in fact quite the opposite, I’m quite intrigued! I’ve been getting my clothes for many years, but never thought of wetting them by peeing in them, you enjoy doing this?” Ann gently asked. “I always have done”, said Jenny, her courage returning now that her dark guilty secret was out in the open. “Wow” said Ann, I’ve never thought of doing that, sounds like it could be fun. “I’ve never thought of swimming in my clothes, but I quite like the sound of that too” said Jenny. “I’ll tell you what,” said Ann, “why don’t you go into the little toilet here, and have a right good pee, and then we can have a swim, and we can both enjoy ourselves, and talk about this some more. Leave the door open if you like.” “You don’t mind?” asked Jenny” “No, of course not, why should I? As you said, it does no harm, and if you enjoy doing it, why shouldn’t you. So, come on, let’s really enjoy our weekly swims together. They both got up from the bench, and Jenny made her way into the little toilet attached to the changing room, she lifted the lid, and sat down, a little self consciously on toilet with her swimsuit very much in place. Ann hovered by the door, “do you mind if I see?” she asked, “no”, replied Jenny, “but I might be a little shy” A few seconds of silence passed as nothing very much happened. Jenny looked up at Ann and gave a bit of a lop sided smile, “I’m not used to doing this in front of strangers” she said. “Well I’m not exactly a stranger” replied Ann, “well, no”, said Jenny, “but, well, you know what I mean, you’re not my lover..” “True” agreed Ann, “but we seem to be sharing things that are quite close to our hearts”. Jenny sat, willing her flow to start, but feeling a huge case of bladder shyness coming on, a syndrome know by lots of blokes at public urinals. “Just relax”, said Ann, “pretend I’m not here, let it all flow, go on, enjoy yourself, I want to see how good it can be!” and with that a wet stain blossomed at Jenny’s crotch, turning the pastel blue material of her crotch a shiny darker blue, it slowly grew in size as her inhibitions loosened, and she bore down on her bladder, emptying it into her gusset, pee jetting through the material as well as collecting behind it gravity drawing it back towards the seat of her swimsuit before emerging, in a small but steady stream, and falling noisily to the waters below. All of this whilst her friend gazed on. As Jenny’s stream faltered and died her friend noticed a slight shudder as Jenny touched her private place and gently rubbed herself. Her dreamy eyes, slightly flustered cheeks and erect nipples told the whole story of her enjoyment of this, usually socially distained, act, and Ann found her own hand gently massaging her mound through her own clothes, she allowed her friend a couple of moments of quiet before asking her, “Wow, you did enjoy that, do you think I should have a go”. “Well, “said Jenny “only if you really want to. “I really think I do” replied Ann “you obviously enjoyed that very much, and I think I would very much like to try it, let’s change places” Jenny stood and eased past her friend in the small toilet, allowing her friend to access the waiting toilet bowl. Jenny was a little surprised when, rather than removing her jeans, and maybe sitting on the toilet in her pants Ann simply plonked her behind down on the toilet seat still sporting her jeans. “Wow” said Jenny, “you’re really going for it aren’t you”. “Well, in for a penny, as it were” said Ann, not realising the unintended irony in her comment. “I was worried you would think me sick, wanting to wee myself” admitted Jenny, “but when you said about getting your clothes wet, I thought you might get it, you know, doing something a bit naughty..... “ she trailed off. “No, I get it completely” said Ann, “It’s deeply sexual isn’t it, and strange though it might first seem, I can understand it being fun and exciting and kind of forbidden. Now let me get started. I tell you what, it does feel really strange, sat here on the toilet with my clothes on, but exciting, and a bit naughty at the same time!” Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes ticked away as Ann desperately tried to pee in her pants, but years of ingrained toilet training stood in the way of her first and desperately wanted full-on intentional pants wetting. “Tell me” “asked Jenny “you understand that when I wet my swimsuit it’s sexual, is it the same for you?” “Oh yes” said Ann “It’s something I’ve done for most of my life, when I turned puberty my wet childhood games took on a very sexual turn. I was in heaven when I married Bob and discovered he liked it as well. We hardly ever have sex without some sort of wetlook involvement. Damn, I just don’t seem to be able to go. How do you manage it so readily?” “Years of practice” said Jenny, “I remember the first time I tried to pee myself as a young kid, I just couldn’t do it. It took me several goes straining and trying to pee in my pants before I could do it deliberately! Just relax and let it come. A couple more minutes passed, but still Ann’s panties and jeans remained stubbornly dry. “Can I make a suggestion” offered Jenny, “you’ve kind of been caught off-guard today, and you’ve not had time to prepare, why not leave it for now, and try again when you are ready. Next time try this, start by drinking a lot of tea or coffee, or diet coke, and then when you are really bursting, come into here and try again. Maybe just wear some knickers, or even your swimsuit, take your time, don’t rush it, maybe stimulate yourself a bit, trust me, there’s nothing like a good orgasm when your bladder’s really full and ready to give out, and quite often that orgasm is the trigger your bladder needs to burst right into whatever your wearing” Again, minutes past and in the end the look of deep concentration on Ann’s face morphed in to disappointment and frustration. “Come on, I can’t get wet like this” said Ann, “not now, let’s go and get good and wet in the pool” She stood up and they both turned and rushed into the main pool room. Jenny went to the steps and started to lower herself into the water, savouring the warm waters of the pool as they welcomed her into the pool. Ann walked round to the deeper end of the pool, she stood on the side, and caught Jenny’s attention as she stood right to the edge of the pool and proceeded to perform an almost perfect dive into the water, she swam a little way underwater before surfacing, standing on the bottom of the pool, and gathering her hair, sweeping it behind her shoulders. Her cotton blouse was plastered to her skin, and almost completely opaque now that it was sodden, her white bra was also no longer hiding anything and her nipples were standing to attention peeping out through the material for all the world to see. “Now that feels better” she said, “I’ve always enjoyed our swims together, but also saw them as missed opportunities as was only wearing a swimsuit. I’m glad we got to share our little kinks. The two swam the lengths of the pool for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts, enjoying the trust and freedom of the friendship to relax, and be a little bit more themselves than they had been before. Eventually Jenny broke the silence. “You’re a bit slower fully clothed, I usually can’t keep up with you!” “I thought I might well be, to be honest I was almost planning to tell you that swimming in my clothes was good training, as is slows me down, and makes it more hard work, but that would have been a bit of a lie, I just enjoy every opportunity to get good and wet, and now, because of your acceptance of me being me, I can do it more often. I should have known that I swim slower with my clothes on, I swim here often enough! But I guess most of the time I’m in here with Bob, and we don’t do very much actual swimming!” “Ooh, do go on” said Jenny, “tell me the dirty details”. “Well, I guess that I can leave an awful lot to your imagination, but we often dress up to come in for a swim together, I’ve got loads of clothes in my fantasy wardrobe to keep things fresh with Bob, he likes all sorts of outfits, and we often come in here dressed up and splash about till he can’t keep his hands off me anymore and then he starts touching me up and getting me all excited until I’m begging him to satisfy me, we very often end up coupled in the pool, him with his knob out through his fly and me with my skirts up round my waist, or my trousers round my ankles, and my knickers just pulled to one side. But tell me, come on, fairs fair, I’m telling you all about my intimate details, It’s time for you to fess up, does Dave like it when you pee yourself?” “Well yes, I must confess” said Jenny, emboldened by their new openness, “Dave does enjoy the wet side of sex. We often have an intimate evening that will have me copiously wetting my knickers at some time in the proceedings. He likes to tank me up and then stimulate me until I lose it and piss all over myself, and him into the bargain, he just loves it, the wetter the better he says. You know that large luxury bathroom I said we had installed a couple of years ago, well now you know why! No one else knows this, but when we’re both feeling randy we take double inflatable mattress into the bathroom with us, and we can be as pissy as we like!” “Well, who’d ‘ave thought” said Ann, “two normal looking women of a certain age, both with naughty little secrets! At least we can be ourselves here, doing whatever we like. It never occurred to me before that I would like it if I deliberately wet myself, but I’m going to give at a bloody good try ‘cause I think I would really enjoy doing it!" “And suddenly I feel under-dressed” chimed in Jenny. Would you mind if I brought some spare clothes with me next week!
  25. Ack, it seems like so much time has passed since I've written down any more of my experiences. It seems that that life, unfortunately, had other plans for me but now that I've got some time I figured I'd share these experiences. For the previous parts (all titled in the same boring manner - I really need to come up with a better series title), check my profile...anyway, onto the fun stuff and sorry about all the extra detail...figured I'd include it for those that like it. Once again, be warned there is a bit of sexual content in here. I arrived home from my time away in early September, on a warm Thursday afternoon. My mother had picked up Lindsay and the two of them met up with me at the baggage carousel. In the 2 months I'd been away, Lindsay and I had both undergone some interesting physical changes. I'd begun filling out and bulking up (accelerated by the physical labor I'd done while away), slowly beginning to resemble something masculine and Lindsay...well, her body had decided to turn her from a cute teenager into a grown, shapely woman. The first change I'd noticed is her hair had become a slightly darker shade of brown (no, she never dyed her hair...still have never figured out why this happened) and she'd had it cut off about half an inch above her shoulders, but the real noticeable changes had been with her breasts and hips. While I realize that two months seems far-fetched for such "drastic" changes, they were not such. I'd wager that these changes were gradual and had begun months prior, they were just now becoming apparent to me for two reasons: one being that I had not seen her in a while and the second being that Lindsay had become aware of these changes and somewhat changed her style to work with/draw attention to them. When she had noticed my eying her cleavage later in the day, she went on to tell me that whilst shopping for back to school clothes, she'd discovered that her breasts were now caught between being a "full" B cup and small C cup (American sizing, for the record), seeming to vary with brands. As for her hips...they had begun to widen, something she had noticed when she'd gone up a size and somewhat worriedly told me. I reassured her that I still found her beautiful and that her gaining weight wasn't going to bug me - as it stands, I was actually quite excited about this development as she'd begun to develop an "hour glass" figure. Which, on a side-note was something that happened within the following year. Having become aware and told of these physical changes, I'd become rather excited and curious to see how she looked in the nude...however, that wasn't to happen until several days later. We spent the rest of that Thursday evening together, had a date on Friday night where we discussed our relationship and felt the time apart had helped us grow closer together. Saturday I spent catching up with my friends and Lindsay spent working on homework (she was a senior in high school now) so as to free her up for us to spend time together on Sunday. Seeing as both of us had become aware that we hadn't been physically intimate with one another in ~2 months, the discussion and plans for that were made Saturday evening over the phone. I once again nervously broached the subject of her wetting for me, unsure if Lindsay's opinion/enjoyment of it had changed during our time apart: "Anything specific you want me to wear tomorrow?" Lindsay asked. "Whatever you feel comfortable in." I replied, in an campy "cool dude" voice. "Is that 'Rick speak' for wear something sexy?" she said, giggling. "It's whatever you want it to mean." "Okay, I'll wear something comfortable AND sexy." "Do you think we could...well, you know...do that thing I like?" I asked, tripping over my own words. "Okay...ummm..." she responded, a bit unsure. "Okay what? Do you not like it or something?" I found myself asking, feeling bummed about pressing the activity so soon. "No, it's just that...well, I don't know." "We don't have to do it if you don't want to...or if you don't like it..." I said, my voice trailing off hoping she wouldn't agree with the latter half of my statement. "Oh no, I do like it. And I like turning you on...it's just been a while and I don't know if I can do it. I mean, it's not like I practiced it!" she replied reassuringly, whilst also giggling. A feeling of relief washed over me as we finished up our conversation and firmed up a time to get together and the layout of our plans for the following day. To save time and spare the details, we ended up getting together and going out to lunch before eventually finding our way back to my place. Lindsay fortunately/unfortunately had to pee at the restaurant we'd gone to for lunch so it was now that she decided to start filling up before we headed out somewhere to "enjoy" ourselves. Her outfit today consisted of a white with vertical deep navy blue stripes button up shirt, on which she'd left the top two buttons undone drawing the eye into her now, more pronounced cleavage and a knee-length cream colored pencil skirt. Over her hair was a white headband running from ear to ear, and she had also chosen to wear her contacts, leading her outfit to giving her more of a girly look rather than the secretary/librarian I was used to. On her feet were a pair of all white sandals, flat-bottomed as we'd been walking around earlier in the day. We were sitting on my couch, talking and looking over a large coffee table book when she suddenly blurted out: "I have to pee." Taking a second to regain my composure I asked, "How bad?" "Not too bad but like I should get up and go use the bathroom now." she answered, before then adjusting her skirt and crossing her legs. "Does that mean we should head out and find somewhere to be alone?" I asked, feeling that twinge downstairs indicating my beginning state of arousal. She looked up at me, leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips. After the kiss, she backed away ever so slightly and in a low voice said "Yesss." before then uncrossing her legs and standing up. With that, I stood up, got my shoes on and headed out the door with Lindsay a few steps behind. I took my position in the driver's seat of my family's station wagon (my car was in the shop at this point...for those wondering why I'm driving my family's car, ha!) with Lindsay taking her position to my right in the passenger's seat. I strapped myself in, put the keys in the ignition and started the car. Checking to make sure she was set and strapped in, Lindsay asked the question; "Would you mind running back in and getting me a Diet Coke?". Being fully aware of the effects of soda on her, I nodded, unstrapped myself to get out and head back in to fetch her the requested soda. Once I returned with the Diet Coke, she thanked me and popped the top on it. She took a sip before then reaching over and pulling me into another soft kiss. I shifted the car into reverse and backed out of my driveway. We were a little worried about being discovered in our usual spot given the nice weather and the fact a lot of people were out on this particular Sunday evening, we decided to head "into the country" a bit. I knew of an old, dilapidated farmhouse that rarely anyone visited where I figured we could be alone. The driveway leading up to the farmhouse featured a decent curve, with plenty of trees to cover us from the back road it was off of. The cracked pavement of the driveway ended abruptly about 20 ft from the house in a line of tall grass. Posted within that grass were several seriously faded "No Trespassing" signs. I parked the station wagon just before the grass and hopped out. I briskly walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for Lindsay. Her situation had worsened (or improved, depending on how you want to look at it) during the 20 minute drive to this location. She'd been sitting cross-legged, fidgeting slightly and when I opened the door to welcome her to my "castle", she announced "Okay, now I REALLY have to go." before swinging her legs out of the open door and standing up. I pulled her slightly to the left, closed the door and then moved her fidgety self to in front of the hood of the car. I leaned down, tilted her head up with one of my hands and began kissing her. She reciprocated by increasing the intensity and passion of our kissing, before then beginning to unbutton my shirt and run one of her hands over my chest. I tugged upward on the top of her skirt and she - in typical feminine magic - easily pulled her skirt up enough to just barely reveal her panties. I took this as a cue to step between her feet, and hoist her up so she was sitting on the hood of the car. This new position allowed for our crotches to be aligned with each other, leading Lindsay to spread her legs and pull me in between them. She wrapped her legs around me and ground her crotch against mine, leaning slightly back in the process and pulling me almost on top of her - all the while kissing me with feverish intensity. I pulled her more upright and broke from our kissing embrace. I'd become acutely aware of the heat radiating through her panties, my shorts and my boxers onto my now maximum stiffness erection, so I took this brief break to unbutton two more buttons of her shirt revealing a nude colored "full coverage" bra. Lindsay was far from being in an unaroused state by now, so she pulled me back into an embrace, kissing me as passionately as before but now grinding her crotch up and down against mine. I broke our embrace once again, this time completely as I found myself almost having to pry myself free from her legs wrapped around me. I walked to the tail end of the car, opened the hatch and climbed in to put the rear seats down - this was to be our bed once Lindsay was through "being naughty". Climbing back out of the car, I turned to see Lindsay standing near me pulling her skirt completely up to reveal her cotton white with a dark blue polka dot and light blue rose pattern bikini style panties. She squatted down, spreading her legs to reveal her crotch to me but in a position that her ass hovered maybe 2 inches off the ground and rested somewhat against her heels. "Are you ready?" she asked, as I took a knee near her. I nodded and with that she closed her eyes. It must've been how I was sitting, or the angle I was at because I noticed no change in the color of her panties or the glistening look I was accustomed to seeing when she began peeing into them. It prompted me to ask, "Are you going yet?". Her eyes snapped open and she said "Are you kidding?", raising an eyebrow. As I shifted my position to lean over, I noticed a stream of liquid heading down the slight incline behind her, darkening the pavement as it went. I tilted my head to the side and leaned over to be greeted to the sight of a clear stream of pee emanating from the direct center of her crotch and making a slight puddle between her sandals before then streaming down the pavement behind her. About 15 seconds later as her stream slowed to a dribble, I moved into a more upright position. Once she finished, she stood up and turned around to seeming to admire the puddle and stream she'd made on the pavement. While facing away from me, for some reason she bent over slightly, which pushed her ass out just enough that I could now see the slight discoloration of the wet fabric. It went maybe a fifth of the way up her panties, so it was no surprise I hadn't been able to see her start going initially. I took this opportunity to reach out and grab a handful of her ass, which must have startled her because she jumped slightly. She immediately turned on her heels, pulled me into a standing position and pushed me back against the rear bumper of the car. She quickly unbuttoned, unzipped and pulled my shorts down before then reaching into the opening on the front of my boxers to pull out my erection. She began stroking it gently, stepping into me so she could start kissing me once more. I was taken back by the sensations I was experiencing, so my hands remained at my sides. She stopped stroking me, positioned her body directly in front of me and stood on her tip toes. She took my cock and bent it down slightly, guiding it between her legs and underneath her crotch as she took a few small steps to press her body against mine. I was greeted to the sensation of the warm, wet fabric of her panties coupled with the heat of her arousal radiating through over the top of my penis, leading me to immediately place my hands on her ass and gently guide her up and down my shaft. She then took the initiative and pushed me down into the back of the station wagon. I pushed myself rather awkwardly on my back further into the back of the car, with Lindsay kneeling over me and walking along on her knees to place her crotch directly above mine. It was at this point she pushed my dick up toward my stomach and then began grinding her crotch along it. Once again I felt the sensation of the warm, wet fabric of her panties coupled with the heat of her vagina radiating through them, this time on the underside of my erection. She leaned in to kiss me a bit as she was grinding, but it was a bit of an awkward position so she returned to a mostly upright position - a kind of pseudo, "cowgirl" position. Her grinding began to grow in intensity and she began mixing in mild gyrations of her hips. It was as I placed my hands on her breasts and began to massage them through her bra that I noticed she was beginning to breath heavily. I could've sworn she was uttering little moans here and there, but I wasn't all there. I was in a moment of pure bliss, being treated to a "show" of this girl whom I thought was damn near flawless, wearing a pair of panties she'd moments earlier peed through, effectively using me as her sexual gratification device - I wasn't about to complain. I'm not sure how long it took, or how long Lindsay ground away on top of me but as her breaths grew closer together, she slowed in motion, shuddered a bit and then let out a long sigh. She leaned in, gave me a quick kiss and then climbed off of me. Taking a position laying beside me she began to jerk me off...I'd finish the story here as those details wouldn't be worth telling, but given our lack of experience, it was here that I took my own load to my face. When I was about to reach orgasm, shortly thereafter, I remember her just pointing it directly at me and I just sat there stupidly staring at it as it unfolded. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ The fifth experience I had with wetting occurs about 3 weeks after the above experience (don't worry, it's much shorter, ha!). During these 3 weeks, Lindsay and I officially "consummated" our relationship, were interrupted by her monthly cycle and then back to it...I assume, the regular course of action for most couples once they reach that point. Needless to say, I wasn't so interested in wetting now that I had another highly pleasurable activity to enjoy with Lindsay and I hadn't really thought about it. But like it always seems to happen, the desire came back and I brought up the subject once more. We came to realize that we had a window of "sexy time" with my home to myself on Friday afternoons, as my mother was at work until 4 and my dad wouldn't be home until after 5. If I picked her up at school once her last class was out, we'd have approximately 90 minutes for whatever we wanted to do. Plenty of time for us (if anyone wants to call in my sexual performance into question...I'm honestly not a fan of hour plus sessions of penetrative sex). She agreed that she'd wear something sexy (of course, it having to be school appropriate) and start drinking 20 minutes or so before the end of school so she'd hopefully be ready shortly after we got back to my place. I drove my car and picked her up at school. On this day she'd gone with a knee length, tan colored cargo skirt, a snug fitting purple, short sleeve shirt rounded out with black 2 inch heels (non open toe) with short, white frilly-topped socks. She'd applied a light dusting of makeup, lip gloss and silver stud earrings and had chosen to wear her "hipster" glasses (I suppose that's what you'd call them now) in lieu of her contacts. Once seated in the car, she tossed her backpack into the backseat and closed the door. She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and started the short drive back to my house. It was at some point during the drive that I noticed she was rather fidgety and sitting with her legs tightly crossed. As we conversed, I finally changed the subject and asked outright: "So how bad do you have to go right now?" Taken a bit back by my bluntness and the suddenness of the comment, Lindsay regained her composure and said, "Really, really bad. Like I can't wait to just go pee." "Jeez, how much did you drink in the last 20 minutes?" "I didn't. I've been holding since lunch and I drank this." she said, holding up one of the mid-sized Nalgene reusable water bottles. I could only mutter an "Oh...okay.". The conversation switched back to her telling me a bit about her day and I did my best to not be distracted by her need and actually pay attention to the topic of the conversation. I can only assume that she wanted to talk about something else to keep her mind off the pressing needs of her bladder. When we arrived back at my place, I hopped out of the car, retrieved her backpack from the backseat and opened the door for her (what can I say, I was trying to keep chivalry alive). The moment we stepped inside, Lindsay asked, "So where are we gonna do this?" "The bathroom seems like the most logical place." I replied, rather dryly. Rolling her eyes, she turned away from me and walked to the bathroom. I told her to hold on and I rushed downstairs to grab a few extra towels, since I wasn't sure what we were gonna need for clean up. Arriving back in the bathroom, I closed the door and asked, "How do you want to go?" "I want to go sitting. Through my panties." she replied, rather chipper. She stood in the corner, her legs crossed and rocking slightly back and forth. "Okay." I rather dumbly replied, before then turning my attention to getting some towels laid out on the floor. I still don't know why it didn't occur to me to just have her sit in the bathtub but the decision I made turned out to have its perks. "I'm gonna go standing if you don't hurry up." Lindsay commented, her tone of voice clearly denoting her discomfort. Once I'd finished laying out 3 layers of towels, I motioned toward the towels and Lindsay gingerly sat down on the center of them. Given the size of the bathroom and in order for Lindsay to show me what I wanted to see as well as do it from a sitting position, she had to sit with her knees slightly bent. The heels of her heels were balanced at about a 45 degree angle with the floor causing the shape of her legs and the way her knees were bent to form almost perfect triangles with the floor. When she spread her legs to give me a view up her skirt and of her panties, she now had a position similar to sitting on a gynecologist's stirrup. Her panties were light blue, cotton bikinis...one of those perfect shades to show off the wetness. As I knelt down in front her, she spoke once more, "If I'm gonna do this...you have to do something for me." "And that is?" I asked, mildly confused. "I want you to be naked." she said with a smirk. "Okay..." I stood up, stripped down completely naked. Knowing where we'd probably end up, I took this moment to start the shower and get it all warmed up. At the sound of the water hitting the tub, Lindsay groaned and one of her hands pressed her skirt between her legs to press on her crotch. Kneeling back down once more, it was now I that asked, "Are you ready?". She shook her head, reached down her shirt and retrieved a condom that had been tucked in her bra - sly girl, she must have gotten that out while I was fetching the towels. I leaned in and gave her a kiss as I took the condom from her hand. With how excited I was, I didn't struggle too much with getting the condom on - all the inspiration I needed could be found with the view of the cute girl in front of me struggling not to pee her panties. As soon as I had the condom on and turned my attention back to Lindsay's plight, she stopped wiggling, closed her eyes and let out a sigh. Almost immediately a dark blue wet spot appeared in the center of her panties and rapidly spread out. As soon as the wetness reached the base of her panties, it began to soak into her skirt. Initially the pee traveled quickly across the top of her skirt before beginning to quickly soak into the material. By now Lindsay was peeing full stream into her panties, indicated by the glistening line emanating from where the pee was rapidly exiting her body and running along the surface of her panties to a small pool that had now formed in the bottom of her skirt. Soon enough though, that glistening line disappeared and the pool of pee became shallower as the pee soaked through her skirt and into the towels below. Letting out a long sigh punctuated the sensations she had just gone through, Lindsay giggled, kicked her shoes off and stood up. She'd left a rather large stain on the towels, but it was nothing compared to her skirt. The entire back of her skirt was soaked, having turned a dark brownish color. She pulled up her skirt to reveal that her panties were soaked - about 40% of the material was wet with a darker blue tint. I don't know what possessed me in this moment, but I picked up the towels and tossed them into the shower for cleaning. I turned to see Lindsay as she stood examining the "damage" to her skirt and panties in what little part of the mirror wasn't fogged, I pulled her into a close embrace and began kissing her. It seemed she immediately went from giggly "I did something naughty" mode to a "fuck me right now, right here" mood. I started moving us toward the shower, and to my surprise, Lindsay climbed right in fully clothed. I stepped in as well, beginning to help her remove her now completely soaked clothes. I'd continue from here but I think it's pretty obvious what happened so to save myself a bit of writing, I'll close with saying that ended up being one of the hottest sexual experiences of my life. It's a shame we never really did anything in the shower like this again. Alright, this ended up way longer than I planned. Hopefully it isn't too laden with errors as I'm a tad out of it. If people want, I can continue regaling my experiences with this girl (there are a few other stand out ones I remember) or I can share the few others I've experienced. Hell, if people want me to shut up with them I can do that as well, haha!
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