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I haven't been able to have a good wetting in a long while, so tell me some of your stories :). In pants, in bed, public, private, purpose, accident, anything is good!

A woman plays out a role where she falls for a prank that involves getting her pants wet https://vk.com/video-179798484_456239429

Another morning. The Beeping of an alarm wakes Claire up with a jolt. She reaches over to the phone sitting at the edge of the mattress, picking it up and hitting the button to make it stop. She sighs as she realises what's happened. Claire sits up in bed, throwing the covers off her legs and yawning. Looking down, she's greeted by the usual sight - pink pyjama bottoms, her fluffy white socks, and a sight that never fails to annoy her - a pale yellow stain on the bed sheets, surrounding her backside like a warm halo. And it is still warm - she's been woke up only moments after finishing her accident. "Again?" Claire groans. She pulls at the damp pink fabric now clinging to her thigh. "I was hoping I'd grow out of this..." She jokes to herself, rolling her eyes and kicking her legs over the side of her wet mattress. She gave up the hope of growing out of it when she was nineteen, a good four years ago now. "I'd better get to cleaning up..." She groans to herself, sliding the wet pyjamas down her legs and letting them drop at her feet, recoiling as the cold morning air kisses her damp bare legs. The kettle wails as the water hits the boil. Claire picks it off the stand and pours it into her tea cup, looking away as the steam flows upward toward her face. Her hair, still wet from the shower, clings to her face as she takes her tea over to the table. She takes a seat at the table and bites into her toast. Another usual morning. She checks her phone for the time. Six thirty-four. She's got enough time to eat her toast before she has to leave for work. That makes a change. She usually sleeps through her first alarm and her morning pee, only waking up when either her second alarm goes off, or when the mattress gets so cold it wakes her up. This is usually followed by a rushed shower and a dash out the house before she practically sprints to work. It makes a nice change to wake up at a sensible time. It'd be a nicer change if she'd woke up dry, but you can't have everything. She drinks the rest of her tea before finishing her toast leisurely. The walk to work seems unusually quiet. Bridgewater was always a quiet town, but there was usually someone Claire would see in the morning. The postman, the milkman, the drunk man with the beard that'd usually have passed out in the gutter outside the pub - but today there's no-one. Was Claire really this early? She checks her phone again for the time - 7:16. She's not that early. Maybe it's daylight saving? It's about this time - late October. Maybe no-one noticed. The door to the cafe shuts behind her, hitting the chimes again as they close. "Morning!" Claire says, walking in and heading over to the store room. "Nice out there today Pete!" She says, picking up an apron and slinging it over her shoulder. "Pete?" She shouts again. "You in?" When there's no reply, Claire shrugs. She walks over to the espresso machine. She hits the button on the grinder, reaches over the the milk fridge, and begins to make herself a latte. "Could really use one of these at home." Claire says, holding the jug under the steam wand. She says it loud enough that someone might hear her, hoping Pete will show up from wherever he's hiding. She looks around. Nothing. She shrugs again. "I'll make you one too, if you want." Again, there's no response. She pours the milk onto her espresso, poking her tongue out as she tries to make a design. She flicks the jug forward slightly, leaving a little heart on the top of her latte. She smiles, proud of herself, and makes her way over to the tables, setting down the latte on the table and taking a seat for herself. Claire takes a drink from her cup, putting about half of it down almost at once. She almost immediately begins to feel better as the caffeine enters her body. She smiles again as she puts the cup back on the table, swirling it around a little, slightly disturbing the heart on top of her coffee. She picks it up again, but the chimes to the door stop her before she takes another drink. "Morning Pete." She says. "Bit late aren't-" She says, looking up. "Hey, you aren't Pete." The man at the door stumbles a little, holding onto it for balance - clearly drunk. He looks familiar too. Scraggly beard, stained over-coat. At this time in the morning he's usually curled up outside the pub in the gutter. "Oh, it's you." She says, putting on a polite smile. "I'm afraid we aren't open yet, Pete's not showed up." She say, taking another mouthful of her coffee. "Huurargww." He growls. "Yeah, we'd usually be open now, but...No idea where Pete is." she tells him. He looks toward her, but his eyes don't focus. "Come on, you've got to leave." She says, before finishing her latte and standing up. She walks over to him, looking at him with what she assumes is a look of authority. His eyes seem...pale. She hesitates to take another step forward, practically flinching as he lurches himself forward by a step. "Y-you - Ahem! You have to leave." Claire says, standing her ground and trying to sound intimidating. A foul smell comes off of him, making her more nervous still. "G-get out." He growls back at her. "N-now!" She says, putting out one hand toward the door. He stumbles a little as he stares at her open palm. "You need to leave!" He slowly looks toward Claire's face again, now close enough for Claire to see him even more clearly. His eyes don't just look pale - they're grey and empty, like he doesn't know where he is. She barely has time to notice this however, before he swings his arm at hers. "Hey!" Claire shouts, hopping backwards. "What do you think you're doing!" She shouts. The drunk takes another lunge at her, slamming his wrist against her left arm. "Stop that!" Claire shouts, slowly stepping backwards. She breathes quickly as adrenaline runs through her - this is the last way she wants to start her shift. "Get out, right now!" "Hrauuur..." He growls again, stumbling forward. One step, then another before he lunges himself at her, grabbing her by the shoulders and biting at her collar. "Hey!" Claire shouts, falling back against the counter, barely staying on her feet. "Get the hell off me!" She shouts, pushing at his shoulders while he tries to bite hers. His face, up close to hers, is even uglier - she can make out every wrinkle, the dried stains under his mouth, and the smell is something else. Claire picks one foot off the ground and pushes it squarely into the man's thigh, kicking forward and throwing him off her. He stumbles backward for a moment before falling onto his backside. Claire darts behind the counter, picking something up to threaten him with. What does she pick up? A) The espresso spoon still in the coffee machine. It has a comfy grip, and the basket is fairly weighted, almost like a hammer. It's short, but it feels quite sturdy and easy to handle. B) A broom. It's a long wooden broom, worn down toward the base. It's quite long, although that might make it awkward to swing around the shop. C) A fork. Underneath the counter there are a handful of dining forks. They're sharp and pointed, as one would expect. However they're quite small and very light.

So, I've been wanting to draw more omo art, and I've not had a lot of specific ideas for things to draw. So I thought I'd ask here to see if anybody has something they'd like to see me draw, since I enjoy drawing most when I know at least one person appreciates it. XD Here's some omo art I've done so far, so you've got an example: I'd prefer drawing desperate guys than desperate girls, and would rather draw women peeing than men peeing (but not completely opposed to the reverse, if I like other things about the idea). Any species can be fun to draw, including made up ones. I don't currently want to draw explicit nudity, but 'furry nudity' (naked but can't actually see anything) is fine. I also can't draw humans to save my life, so furry only, sorry. XD So, suggest stuff to me here if you've got any ideas! I can't guarantee that I'll draw all of them if I get a lot, but I'll still at least draw some of them!

Hey! I'm back! Unfortunately I have a flash drive elsewhere that has a few stories I haven't been able to post yet, but in the meantime I've played Hogwarts Mystery and thought it would be fun to do a story on it. A few things I should probably mention are that this is set in an AU where Hogwarts students are 18 and get tutored when they turn eleven till they can go to Hogwarts and learn magic officially. The tutoring is just basic things to keep their magic in check so they don't cause any accidents, and just magical theory to prime them for Hogwarts. Other than that I guess I don't have a lot to say other than I drew my character and Rowan if you want to see that check the spoiler below. Otherwise Enjoy! Emily found herself little more than a series of nerves furiously flitting between anticipation and anxiety. Her hand grasped the side rail of the Hogwarts express as she paused mid-step before boarding the train. The sea of conflict swirling inside her felt as if it would erupt out like an obscurus at any moment. Was she walking normally? Did she look weird? Which house would she be sorted into? Who’s he? Would she learn to fly this year? Emily didn’t know if she wanted to turn around and jump off the train before it could leave the station or race it to the castle. With a deep breath, Emily pulled herself fully onto the train and began her search for a compartment. Her eyes drifted from the rush of faces which moved passed her, from other anxious first years like her who also desperately looked for a place to belong, to the more relaxed returning students laughing casually with their friends. It wasn’t long before she heard the whispers. Emily tried to ignore what the other students said as she pushed passed them in search for a compartment to herself. “Is that Jacob’s sister? “Great another Gardner kid?” “-is the last thing we need.” “I hear her brother joined-” “The search continues.” “-Vaults. As if you hide something-” Finally, after nearly breaking out into a run, Emily found an empty compartment. She slammed the door behind her. With an exasperated sigh, Emily draped herself across one of the bench seats on her back, her legs in the air, resting her feet against the wall. She produced her wand and absently began to swirl it in the air above her face, watching as the tip emitted a dim trail of golden light. The lessons her tutor taught her returned to the surface of her consciousness: how to expend minor amounts of magic with her training wand to prevent accidental discharges and how these discharges became more likely in moments of extreme emotion. Ever since Emily turned, eleven tutors would come to her house to teach her how to safely train herself in very rudimentary magic work to prepare herself for this moment. The moment when she would attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Gone were the theories of magic, the mere flexing of magical “muscles” to prevent build-up, the study of the mundane muggle teachings. She was finally ready to become a real witch, like her mother. “That’s Blackthorn, right?” A soft voice startled Emily. Emily sat up, straightened her robes out as a dark-haired girl peeked into the compartment. Emily hadn’t even heard the door open; she was so deep in thought. “um, what was that?” “Sorry, but that’s a blackthorn wand, right?” The girl stepped into the compartment. “uh, Right. How’d you know?” “My family owns a tree farm that supplies the woods for wands and broomsticks. I’m Rowan Khanna, by the way. Like the wand wood, only my wands actually Cedar…” Rowan extended her hand towards Emily a bit awkwardly. Emily shook her hand with a smile. “I’m Emily, Emily Gardner.” “Wait. Are you related to Jacob Gardner?” Emily’s face darkened. “Yes. He’s my brother.” “The same Jacob who got expelled for-“ “Yes. The Cursed Vaults Jacob.” Emily confirmed, staring at her own feet. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to dredge that up. It’s just… it was a huge story in the Daily Prophet. Everyone in the school is going to know about it.” “I’m keenly aware of that, thank you.” Emily sighed. “I’m not exactly starting Hogwarts on my best foot, am I?” “No, I suppose not.” Rowan shuffled her feet awkwardly. “But I probably won’t be either, if it helps.” “Why do you say that?” “Well, I’ve never really had many friends, honestly. I’ve always been a bit of a bookworm, and I guess that didn’t really go over well with the other kids growing up.” “I’m sorry.” Emily offered awkwardly. “It’s alright.” Rowan smiled. “At least I was allowed to read instead of working on my family’s farm. My parents were thrilled that I loved reading; they think that I could be the youngest professor to teach at Hogwarts.” “Well, if we’re both outcasts, we might as well be outcasts together, right?” Emily smiled up at Rowan. Rowan’s face lit up. “It would be my pleasure, Ms. Gardner!” She made an exaggerated curtsy. “Well, Ms. Khanna, why don’t you join me on this marvelous journey to Hogwarts.” Emily feigned a posh accent. “I can think of nothing else that would make me happier.” Rowan mimicked Emily’s cadence before sitting across from her. “Blackthorn’s an unusual wand, by the way.” “Is it?” Emily held out her wand to admire it. After a lengthy discussion of the properties of wand woods, the Hogwarts Express pulled into its destination. A large dark lake sprawled out before a massive stone castle, rising above a hilly forest amidst the valley. Rowan and Emily checked to make sure their robes were presentable before the two disembarked. “Which house are you hoping for?” Rowan asked as they stepped off the train. “Honestly, I dunno. My brother was Slytherin, and maybe if I can get into Slytherin, I can figure out what happened to him.” Emily whispered. “Speaking of your brother, what do you want me to do if people bother you about him?” “You don’t have to do anything.” Emily chuckled. “I can handle myself, but thanks for your concern. Which house do you want to get in?” “Well, perhaps Ravenclaw would help me on my way to becoming a professor, but-” “First years! First years! Come along, this way, First years!” A giant of a man with dark wild hair and beard stood far above the students spilling out on to the platform. “Follow me, First years.” The giant led the new students towards the lake. “He’s huge.” Emily gaped. “I think he’s Hagrid. He’s the games keeper here at Hogwarts. My uncle told me about him.” Rowan whispered. “Apparently, he’s quite fond of magical creatures; especially, the dangerous ones.” Hagrid ushered the students to a series of rowboats docked at the edge of the lake. “Now no more than three students to a rowboat. This’ll take ye, to the castle. You’ll be following Professor McGonagall to the great hall where ye’ll be sorted. No rough housin’ now, ye hear me?” “There are no paddles,” Emily observed. “It’s magic.” Rowan laughed. “They move themselves.” “Right. I guess I should’ve figured that out myself.” Emily stumbled into the boat. Once both students situated themselves, the wooden bow began to glide across the black waters of the lake. The boats barely seemed to disturb the water as they made their way towards the castle. Emily peered into the depth below, but her vision couldn’t pierce the surface. “They say there’s a giant squid that lives in the lake,” Rowan said. Emily retreated into the center of the boat. When Emily joined the crowd of first years at the other end of the lake, she found herself relieved to realize that they didn’t recognize her as the sister of Jacob. Thankfully, only her brother’s picture was published so they wouldn’t know who she was. Yet. At any rate, Emily enjoyed the break from gossiping. Professor McGonagall led the students through the castle into a large dining hall. Four long rows of tables led to a raised platform where a long table sat what must have been the professors and faculty. Above the hall seemed to be an open night sky, twinkling with stars. Floating wax candles lit the room from above, without dripping any wax on the students below. McGonagall stood atop the raised platform, next to a single stool and a grubby looking hat. “Welcome to Hogwarts. Before we can begin the welcome feast, we must first sort our new students into their proper houses.” McGonagall began. “While you are here, your house will become something like your family within Hogwarts. The four houses are Gryffindor, the brave and chivalrous; Hufflepuff, the kind and diligent; Ravenclaw, the witty and wise; and Slytherin, the cunning and ambitious. Each has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. I hope you will all be fine additions to their ranks.” Emily slipped her hand into the pocket of her robe and rolled her wand between her fingers. Her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. She shifted her feet from her heels to the balls of her feet. She was so lost in nervous thoughts of the future; she almost didn’t hear Professor McGonagall call her name. Rowan gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder when Emily passed her. Emily felt her nerves prickle with anxiety when she turned to face the mass of students staring up at her. She took her seat on the stool and felt the hat plop down on her head. “hrm.” A voice called out in her head. “Very interesting. Another Gardner, with so many conflicting paths. Which will you choose, I wonder? A path of greatness? A path of daring and heroics? Will you choose to pursue secrets and forbidden knowledge? Uncertain? No. I see it now. Better be, Slytherin!” Emily stood up to scattered cheers from the Slytherin table. She smiled weakly and made her way to an area of the table where she could sit by herself. Without the rush of blood in her ears, Emily could hear the whispers that followed her. Rowan flashed Emily a wave before she marched up to the chair to be sorted. After a moment of silence, the sorting hat declared “Slytherin!” A huge wave of relief washed over Emily. Rowan sat down next to her with an ear to ear grin. “Looks like we’re both cunning and ambitious, huh?” Emily managed a smile. Once each student was sorted, a tall long-bearded man rose from the center of the table. “Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. To those who do not yet know who I am, I am Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of this wonderful school. Remember, while at Hogwarts your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule-breaking will do the opposite. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will win the House Cup, a great honor. It is my hope, dear students, that each of you will be a credit to your house. Now enjoy the feast.” In an instant, the tables filled with hundreds of delicious dishes. Emily hadn’t realized quite how hungry she was until the food appeared before her. With very minimal talking, both Emily and Rowan enjoyed the feast until the houses were each called to their dormitories. The Slytherin students followed their prefect into the back of the dungeons, where they emerged into a stone common room. The room was oddly comfortable, Emily thought to herself. Ivy decorated the walls above murals, leading towards a stone fireplace in front of a couple of couches. At the end of the room were glass windows that looked out into the lake. “Are we underwater? Can the glass withhold that?” Emily asked Rowan. Before Rowan could answer an older student pointed his wand at Emily. “I can’t believe they let you in here after your mental brother got expelled.” He grumbled. “The last thing Slytherin needs is another Gardner to ruin its reputation.” “Emily is not going to ruin Slytherin’s reputation.” Rowan narrowed her eyes. “By the end of the year, you’ll be thrilled she’s in the same house as you.” “I doubt it.” The boy scoffed before moving on. “I’m sorry, Emily, I know you said you didn’t want me to stand up for you, but I just got caught up and-“ “Rowan. It’s alright. Thank you.” Emily smiled. Rowan smiled back. “So… what class are you looking forward to?” “I guess… charms if I had to choose. It’s probably my best bet at figuring out how to help my brother.” “How do you figure?” “Well, my brother was talented at charms. He became close to Professor Flitwick. I’m hoping maybe he knows what could have happened to my brother. At the very least, maybe I can learn a spell that will help me find him.” “Well, fortunately for you, we have charms first thing in the morning.” Rowan beamed. “I’m sorry about your brother, but together we can find him. I’m sure of it.” “Thank you, Rowan. For now, let’s find our beds. I’m exhausted.” Alright! So no wettings or desperation in this chapter, but don't you worry! I already have plans to fulfill that need of yours dear readers. Anyways, it's great to be back! Leave any questions, comments, critiques below and have a lovely day!

This was a request from KarenGranger, which I tried to get done in exactly one month, but I've now barely missed (in my time zone). Bummer 😝 Thanks for reading! *** “TJ, move that sawhorse over here.” “Yes, sir.” TJ Masters easily hoisted the frame – you never drag it – and set it where his dad had indicated. Tony Masters was an extremely diligent builder and craftsman; it was why he was one of the most sought-after contractors in their town. More specifically, by the type of people on the east side of town who could afford to add extra wings to their already-enormous houses. TJ had been working for his father for as long as he could remember – stirring paint and washing paintbrushes as a child, sorting tools and accessories in elementary school, and now, joining his dad at work sites, a position he’d earned by precision, hard work, and virtually never making mistakes. Needless to say, TJ and Tony didn’t live in the same neighborhood as the people they worked for. Tony kept his margins low, but he almost always only worked one job at a time, so, despite his wealthy clientele, he wasn’t exactly pulling in seven figures himself. So one of the most important rules on worksites for TJ was to keep his mouth shut. He was there as a worker; he kept his head down, completed the list of tasks for the day, cleaned up after himself, and left, taking care not leave any boot prints on the property. TJ didn’t really mind. He liked the work, and he wasn’t much of an extrovert, anyway, so when they did end up working at one of his classmate’s houses, it was neither awkward nor distracting. Until today. TJ never knew where they’d be going when they started a new job; he never needed to. He’d just get in the truck with his dad and start work when they got to the house. Today, they pulled onto the grounds of a newer house on the edge of town. Tony parked the car around back and explained that they’d be renovating the pool house. TJ hopped out and started unloading the truck, barely paying attention to the giant house or its inhabitants. On his third and final trip out to the truck, TJ caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and before he could stop himself, he looked. And nearly dropped the armful of lumber he was carrying. Strolling out of the back door was Robbie diSantos. Robbie – TJ didn’t even know what his full name was – had just started at TJ’s high school at the beginning of their senior year a couple of weeks ago, and TJ had been instantly smitten. TJ didn’t exactly have an expansive vocabulary, but even if he did, the first word he would use to describe Robbie was cool. Robbie just made everything look so effortless. The clothes he wore were cooler than anything TJ owned, but not in a pretentious way. His hair fell perfectly, but it didn’t even look like he used any product. He was the kind of person who seemed like he didn’t care about any of the everyday drama of high school, and he was all the more impressive for it. Robbie was carrying a book and a glass of something. He settled himself into a pool chair and slipped in his earbuds, apparently not even noticing the Masters. “TJ! Grab that band saw!” TJ blinked and stumbled into motion, ashamed of his juvenile, doe-eyed daze. He doubled back to pick up the band saw and ducked into the pool house, forcing himself to avoid the windows, so as not to keep peeking out toward the pool chairs. So now, TJ had spent the past 3 hours measuring, sanding, and cutting lumber. He’d been working long enough that his dad now trusted him with entire projects, rather than giving one instruction at a time. In this case. He was adding a wall the pool house to partition off a small closet, which he would then fill with shelves. It was simple work, but required precision, and TJ knew that Tony expected the closet to be finished by the end of the day. Focusing on the work helped TJ keep his mind off Robbie for the most part. But every so often, when he turned the saw off or moved newly cut two-by-fours from the table, he’d find himself glancing out the window, semi-consciously hoping to catch a glimpse of his classmate. As noon approached, Tony signaled to TJ that it was time for a break. TJ finished his current task, took of his noise-cancelling headphones, and grabbed a sandwich and bottle of water from the cooler. “Grable’s called, and our stone shipment came in earlier than expected,” Tony said without preamble, between bites of sandwich. “I’m gonna head over there and pick out what we need for the walkway and patio.” “Yes, sir,” TJ replied, already knowing what the next orders would be. “By the time I get to Grable’s, look over the product, load it, I won’t have time to get back here and do anything -” The quarry was an hour and a half away “- so Roy’s on his way to get me. I’ll take the trailer to Grable’s and leave the truck here with you. You finish the closet, clean up, and meet me back at home.” “Yes, sir.” TJ nodded. On one hand, he was oddly honored that his dad trusted him enough to leave him alone at a job site on the first day. On the other hand, did his dad have to abandon him at this particular job? Not that TJ would ever argue with his dad at work. They were there to be efficient and professional, not to engage in family spats. So TJ simply finished his lunch, brushed off his jeans, and went back to work. Tony passed over the keys to the truck before he left, but otherwise, didn’t offer any further instructions. TJ kept working, keeping his headphones on to protect from the noise of the saw. The work and the blazing sun outside warmed the unfinished pool house. Barely even thinking, TJ grabbed another water bottle from the cooler and downed it in between cuts. He’d been working for about another hour – the frame of the wall was in place, now he just had to hang the drywall and shelves – when he felt the first signals of fullness from his bladder. It was just enough to make him aware, but not enough to make him worry. The drywall and the shelves wouldn’t take long. He t grabbed the drywall sheets propped against the wall, then nearly dropped them when he turned back to the table. “Hey.” Robbie stood in the doorway, holding a bottle of Powerade. He looked completely unperturbed, as usual, and TJ scrambled to match Robbie’s level of aloofness. He set down the drywall and pulled down his headphones. “Hey,” he replied, praying his voice wasn’t shaking as much as it felt like it was, “what can I do for you?” The corner of Robbie’s mouth quirked up. “Besides the literal work that you’re already doing?” he teased. “Nah, man, I just know how hot it is out here, so I thought I’d bring you some electrolytes.” “Oh!” Instead of gratitude, TJ only felt stupid for not realizing that the drink was meant for him. “Thanks. Thanks, man. That was really nice.” Robbie grinned, keeping eye contact long enough to make TJ’s stomach flutter as he handed over the chilled bottle. “Just shout if you want more. It’s nasty out today.” Compelled by both a desire to show gratitude and a genuine need for more hydration, TJ had already unscrewed the cap and was taking a gulp. He swallowed quickly and attempted a smile, knowing full well he’d never take Robbie up on his offer. TJ downed the entire Powerade before he even knew it. The near-icy drink felt amazing on the hot day, and drinking it so quickly prevented TJ from relishing the fact that Robbie had technically given him a gift. Mostly. The sugar from the drink provided a nice burst of energy while TJ hung the drywall. It was simple work, but time-consuming, as TJ carefully made sure that all the corners aligned perfectly. Safety first, his dad always said, emphasizing quality construction, but aesthetics are a close second. Reaching up to secure the top of the wall, TJ felt an urge from his bladder. He grunted involuntarily and pressed his thighs together. Stupid! he mentally chastised himself. He knew the rules – you don’t leave before the work is done, no matter what. Drinking the extra water bottle and the Powerade had been a terrible decision. TJ grimaced as he stood in front of the closet, quickly assessing how much work he had left to do. The drywall was finished, so he just had to cut and hang the shelves inside. He had all the specs, and since all the shelves were identical, he wouldn’t have to worry about setting up different measurements. “Hey!” The greeting from the window (well, the hole in the wall where the new window would soon be installed) was overly loud, considering TJ didn’t actually have his headphones on at the second. He jumped, then awkwardly tried to disguise the movement by turning to find Robbie smiling at him. “How’s it going?” Robbie asked casually. He looked around at the alterations to the room. “It looks good!” TJ smiled shyly, but only for a second. Sensations from his bladder nagged him, and he hoped his face wasn’t too noticeably red. Well, beyond the existing redness from the heat and the work. “Thanks,” he murmured. “I should be done in about an hour, so you won’t have to deal with the noise too much longer.” “Take your time.” Robbie winked, and this time, TJ was sure his blush was visible. Robbie had walked away, but TJ’s face heated up even more as dozens of thoughts careened around his head – Robbie was flirting with him, he must look like a mess, he had to pee, but he couldn’t until he finished the job… Clenching his jaw, TJ returned to the work table. His nerves were firing overtime, which was not helping his current situation. Just finish the job. Snatching the pressboard with far more force than necessary, TJ mentally scolded himself. He couldn’t let his own poor choices impact the quality of his work – his dad’s work. TJ took a deep breath and clenched his abdominal muscles. Not trusting himself with the band saw just yet, he decided to hang the brackets in the closet. That way, as soon as he had the shelves cut, he could place them, clean up, and leave. Measuring, even though he knew exactly where the studs are, TJ braced himself before each precise shot of the nail gun. The power of the tool still jarred his entire body, but he managed to hang all the brackets without losing control. Allowing himself a brief smile, TJ returned to the saw. All he had to do was cut the pressboard and place the shelves, and he was done! (And clean up, but he wasn’t planning on that taking that long) TJ grabbed the first board, measured, marked, then measured again. He continued the process until the shape of all 4 shelves was precisely delineated. He took a deep breath, positioned his safety goggles, and turned on the band saw. And immediately turned it off again. TJ let out a low groan and bent forward. The vibrations from the saw had caught him off guard, and he’d lost a quick, hot leak. He had to stop and cross his legs to help control the pressure, and he reflexively glanced toward the window to make sure Robbie wasn’t watching. He wasn’t, not that it made TJ feel much better. The immediacy of the desperation passed after a few moments, but TJ felt his heart beating in his throat. He stared plaintively at the saw, as if begging it to go easy on him. Taking a deep breath, TJ straightened up slowly. He squeezed his thighs tightly together, then grabbed the first piece of pressboard and turned on the saw. TJ clenched his jaw so tightly, he thought he might crack a tooth. He could practically feel the liquid vibrating in his overfilled bladder, but he kept his focus trained on the saw, never wavering in the straight lines he was cutting. Unconsciously holding his breath, TJ finished the last cut, ending up with 4 perfectly identical shelves. He gratefully turned off the saw, but the sudden cease in vibrations shocked him into leaking again. The teen whined softly and shoved his hand between his legs. He couldn’t even think about the actual process of getting to a bathroom; he just had to finish this job without making a mess. And without Robbie seeing. TJ pressed tightly through his jeans, his breath hitching. He really shouldn’t have drunk that Powerade. The thought of the Powerade made TJ look sharply over at the window. Thankfully, Robbie was still nowhere in sight. TJ knew he didn’t have much time, so he gave his crotch another squeeze, then stood up and grabbed the stacked boards. He slid the top shelf in, careful not the scratch the wall. The second and third shelves were placed easily enough, but TJ was tall enough that the last shelf required him to bend down. He did. But then he couldn’t get back up. Even the slight bend necessary to help his long arms reach the bottom brackets put too much pressure on TJ’s bladder, and he felt another forceful leak soak into his underwear. He shakily placed the last shelf, then shoved both of his hands between his legs, clenching as tightly as he could. His jeans were awkwardly bunched in his hands, and he didn’t have as comforting of a grip as he wanted, but he couldn’t let go. Tears sprung in TJ’s eyes. He tried to force himself to think of the work he still had to do, but any task-related thoughts were immediately crowded out by the simple biological fact that he couldn’t do anything else right now. He just had to pee. His only remaining clear thought was that he couldn’t have an accident in the pool house. Half-blind with desperation and tears, TJ stumbled out the side door, hands between his legs, and around the side of the building. He barely made it around the corner before he totally lost control. TJ whimpered as he started to actually wet himself, urine pouring over his hands and down both his thighs. His jeans darkened rapidly, and he could hear the splattering of his accident on the dirt below. TJ fought to catch his breath. The relief was spectacular, but not nearly as overwhelming as the shame. He couldn’t…he didn’t… Pressing his lips together, TJ tried to force himself to stay quiet. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, but his current cycle of humiliation and self-contempt was forcing sobs against the back of his throat. Seconds or minutes or hours later, he was finally empty. Shaking, TJ stood up straight and wiped his hands against the remaining dry material on the back of his jeans. He sniffled and dragged the back of his hand under his nose, but made no move to return inside. Chest heaving, TJ tried to string together a plan. He still had to clean up inside, but if he did that quickly, then drove right home, he could still make it before his dad got there, and- “Hey!” TJ’s heart stopped. No no no… “I wanted to see if y-“ TJ was facing away, so he didn’t yet see Robbie’s face, but it was pretty obvious what had happened. The sobs he’d been holding back seemed to intensify, ripping at his voice box. “Hey,” Robbie repeated, his voice impossibly gentle, “Are you…can I…” TJ desperately wanted to respond, to somehow assure Robbie that it was fine and that he’d just finish cleaning and be on his way, but he couldn’t open his mouth without crying. Instead, he tried to breathe deeply, calming himself enough to do literally anything other than just stand there silently in piss-soaked jeans. Still out of TJ’s line of vision, Robbie inhaled audibly. “I’ll leave if you want me to, man, but can you just tell me if you need help? Like, do you need me to get anyone? Call anyone?” Grateful for the yes-or-no question, TJ shook his head. Robbie’s gentle, non-judgmental offer was calming, and TJ was able to breathe more easily. After another few silent seconds, he was able to speak. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice low and scratchy. “The closet is finished, so I’ll just clean up inside, and then we’ll be back tomorrow to-“ “Are you kidding me?!” Robbie sounded so affronted that TJ finally looked up. Sure enough, Robbie looked utterly baffled by what TJ though was a pretty simple statement. “You…” Robbie was all but sputtering, and TJ couldn’t figure out what had him so worked up. “You don’t have to do anything else! Just…why would you think you have to keep working??” TJ frowned slightly. “I haven’t cleaned up yet. I haven’t finished. I have to finish the job for today.” Robbie glanced down at TJ’s dark, sopping jeans, and TJ felt his entire face heat up. “TJ, it’s…it’s fine, man,” Robbie insisted. “You’re coming back tomorrow, just leave it.” TJ shook his head and looked down again. “My dad…” He stopped, not wanting to make it sound like his dad was overly demanding. He wasn’t, it was just… “I have a job to do.” TJ glanced back up to see some of the indignity melt off of Robbie’s face. “You do you, man,” Robbie said, sounding a bit sad. “I know you and your dad do great work, and I don’t want to make it seem like I’m telling you how to do your job. But seriously –“ Robbie stared at TJ earnestly, and TJ had to look away, still intensely aware that he was standing in a puddle of his own urine. “- the bathroom is just off to the right through the back sliding door. I’m sorry no one told you where it was before.” TJ was already shaking his head before Robbie finished, leaving the other teen bewildered. “Oh, no,” TJ murmured. “We don’t use client bathrooms. We don’t enter any space unless we’re working in it.” He said this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, like he was explaining the First Amendment to someone who had never heard of the United States. Robbie’s eyes darkened, and TJ nearly recoiled from this unexpected show of emotion. Robbie was so chill, so relaxed – what had TJ done wrong? “What kind of classist, regressive, The Help bullshit is that?” Robbie spat. “Did you…did someone tell you that? Like, is it literally a rule around here?” “We…” Now TJ really felt awful. He’d wet his pants like a child, he still hadn’t finished his tasks for today, and now, he’d somehow made the coolest, most attractive boy in the whole school mad at him. “We just…my dad always said that we don’t want to track in dirt or dust or anything. We want to respect the clients’ homes. It’s…we don’t want to…” TJ’s face flamed again as he trailed off and stared back at the ground. The rest of the rule was “We don’t want to make any unnecessary mess,” but TJ had clearly broken that statute. Robbie sighed, his feature softening again. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to yell.” TJ glanced up and found Robbie looking at him sincerely. “You and your dad can work however you want,” Robbie swore, “but I…I promise, my family and I, we don’t care about dirt or shit like that. And definitely not over…over your well-being.” TJ averted his eyes, blinking rapidly. “I…” Robbie’s voice was softer than ever. “I just wanted you to know that.” Eyes shining, TJ dared to lift his gaze, but didn’t say anything. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” TJ shook his head and managed a weak smile. “Like I said, I’ll just clean up inside. We’ll be back tomorrow to work on the walkway and patio.” Robbie smiled, gently, encouragingly. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” He inhaled, as if he was going to say something else, but then just ducked his head and turned away. TJ let out a long breath. His mind was already moving ahead to the clean-up job, the drive home, and the long shower he was going to take. But somehow, the horror of the afternoon wasn’t quite as suffocating as it had been ten minutes ago. He whispered, even though Robbie had already walked away. “See you tomorrow.”

This is my first created topic in the wetting experience group. I decided it’s time to get in better shape and to take better care of myself. You know, the usual eat better, less thc, and to workout. I used to run daily, now I’m just lazy. What better way to get health than with some omo. I went for jog walk today and decided to let loose on the trail as the bouncing had taken its toll.

I am an omorashi lover who prefers videos that include explicit verbal references (or "dirty talk" if you like to call it this way) regarding the desperation and/or wetting that can be witnessed. I really like to hear women talk about their urge to pee or even mention that they are about to lose it. My native language is German and I have access to a bunch of videos from the (semi-)amateur German porn site "mydirtyhobby" that, as you all probably know, offers a lot of pee content too. So I decided to regularly share a few of them - and include self-made subtitles, hoping that this way English speakers can enjoy the language in these videos too. Of course: If you like the videos, I recommend to become a member of Mydirtyhobby and buy a few of them. There's a lot of great content added each day and supporting those amateurs will keep it this way. The first video is an old one by PoppSylvie from 2013 called "Extremdruck!! In die Jeans gepisst" or "Extreme pressure - pissed my jeans" in English. It features poor Sylvie with a full bladder on a highway rest area that obviously doesn't have a toilet. It's my first attempt on creating my own subtitles and so I chose a video with only a few lines of text - still a great one I think. I'm happy to receive constructive feedback. I'll try to post a few more in the next few days. And if one of you has a good German omorashi video for which he always wanted to know what the actors were saying, feel free to post it in here and ask for a translation. I'll be happy to create subtitles whenever I find the time. PoppSylvie - Extreme Pressure (English subs).mp4

AuthorFaust: Hello everyone, and welcome to... The CRACK of a whip rings out, interrupting the author that you are all likely familiar with...The source being an unfamiliar man, with auburn hair, styled as messy to one side....but perfectly trimmed on the other in a stark contrast to one another. He wore a brown vest over a white shirt, (topped with a blue tie) And long, but perfectly pressed black pants, with nary a wrinkle in sight. "You can drop the usual spiel." he calls, a murky-textured black whip straightening out and forming into a cane, as he folds his hands over it. "Everyone knows why you're here, and what it's about.." The shrouded form of the Author cut a scowl and a sneer to the well-dressed man, but shook his head after a few moments of held disgust, one of his hands tracing a line in the air....And forming a book with a blue cover...Grasping it between his fingers, as he pulled it closer to himself. "Yeah yeah.."he grumbled, thumbing to the front of the book..which was strangely blank. "Been lacking in my writing department, and I've been needing to catch up. Life's been up and down, but I need to get back into the swing of things, or I'll lose my edge." "Presuming it hasn't already slipped away.." the well dressed man mused with a small grin, earning another sneer from the Author. "So, I've decided to bring you all on.." he started, running his fingers over one of the pages, as it slowly started to fill with letters, and colors. "A little journey of an Author. A sort of trip, through ideas.... Or, as the title of the thread should say..." [Faust's Daily Dimension Diving (for) Desperate Developments] [Faust 5Ds for short] "In short, it's going to be a section of short fiction pieces.." the author stated, magicking a pair of glasses to rest on his head. "To help me get back into writing shape. There won't likely be any epics, or other outstanding work pieces, but getting some progress is better than none, yeah?" The well dressed man said nothing, but one could see the Author cutting him a glare as he stood perfectly still... Wearing the same, devilish smile all the way. "And this....charming gentleman.." the Author stated, gesturing at the reddish-brown haired stranger. "Is going to be my...Assistant, for this set of events. Ei-" The well-dressed man raised a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture...Earning a cold glare from the Author...As he leaned forward on his cane. "My name is Eiji Biwasaka." he stated plainly, still never losing the coy smile. "You could say I'm less of an assistant and more of a...warden. I'm here to...encourage our friend here to do as he says. It's always unsightly when one can't keep their promises, is it not?" He gave a light chuckle, glancing over at the Author with the same wicked smile...Before taking a few steps back, and gesturing forward. "Go on then... Now you can give them the spiel." The hooded figure of the Author stepped forward the moment Eiji stepped out of the way, turning the book around. "It's going to be simple." he started, pointing at a set of lines. "I'm going to show you all various little ideas that pop up in my head.... Little scenarios, with people old and new to you... And, hopefully you'll like at least a few of them." The words shifted around, changing to pictures of other people. Of shapely pinkettes, of modest silverettes, classrooms, car rides, fairs, trips, and even inside homes...As he waved his hand over it once more. "If I can get About 20 or so stories done by the end of September, I'll consider this a success. If it's anything less, then well..." "Mhmhm... Well, let's not find out, okay?" Eiji interjected, giving a wave to you. "Ta-ta for now. Hopefully, you won't need to worry about me anymore, audience." The author sneered again... but opened the book once more.... Drawing his finger over the pages...and diving in... ================================================================================================================================ [Day 1: Not entirely....] "So....This is Avacyn's Ace-card power.." a certain, shapely girl with violet hair called, glancing down at the beautiful Angel card that started her Magic Journey.......Coupled with the power of her mysterious, red-haired girl's Sarilian item...... Bouncy had heard from Keep before that some cards tended to bring people luck, curry favor with negotiations, or had various other niches of support.... But, it was the first time she had been able to well and truly see the effects of it in action. The card normally made all of her things indestructible in the game, but in reality... "Y..You've had like, three bottles of water.." Meta, the source of the unnatural power called, bouncing from foot to foot. "And you haven't peed since school started. Are you Tr-Trying to get people's attention with that bloated bladder, or....?" "N..No..." the violet haired girl stammered, pressing her legs together. "I was just....kind of curious...you know.." She had a feeling the card was special, but she had no idea when she started how special. Despite what the girl had said, and the hours of silent testing, and schoolwork.... Bouncy had found herself able to not only withstand the growing pressure in her body, but hadn't made so much as a single spot on her panties! No matter how many people she bumped into in the halls, how many times she had to bend down to pick up her dropped things, or even the sounds of splashing or running water tormented her.... She felt merely...very full...but never quite at the level where wetting herself was even a thought. She could feel her body sloshing with every step....A bit of her body warming up at the sensation...And she still crossed her legs every time someone used the water fountain, or sink.......And yet, she still felt completely in control. "I wonder if Keep knows about this.." she mused to herself, as the red haired spirit tugged fruitlessly at her arm, trying to drag her aside. "C..C'mon, Bouncy, this is..isn't funny..!" Meta cried out, one hand constantly dipping and burying in her skirt. "I...I know the school bathrooms are crazy gross, but it's better than the alternative, isn't it?" Bouncy ignored the pleas of her nearly-intangible friend, merely pacing along with tensed legs, as she came to a familiar shop....The ringing signalling the owner, Keep. "Ah, what can I do you for, Bouncy?" he asked with a friendly wave, lightly brushing the hair out of his eyepatched eye. The violet haired girl gave a small, teasing smirk... And started to lift her shirt, prompting a hurried blush from the owner. "Ga...H..Hey...do..don't.." he stammered, nearly falling over the counter to pull it down for her. "W..what if someone walked in and saw..." "Look~" the girl called in a low tone, barely holding the shirt over her belly.... but showing off a significant distention from her lower belly... Legs lightly trembling as she stood. "I...umm..wow.." Keep sounded, now noticeably staring at the girl's distended bladder... A flush rushing to his face. "That's... It must be bad.." Bouncy giggled, and leaned forward, dropping her voice even closer to a whisper as she glanced over the shelf. "Gimme one of those, and you can touch it.." she offered, prompting a sharp reddening of Keep's face, as he glanced over...stammering. "Awa...I..I don't..I mean..I could...Aaaaa..." Meta bounced from foot to foot, snapping a quick glare at Bouncy, as she gestured. "C..C'mon! Seriously, it's gonna come out if you don't hurry.." the red haired girl sounded, as the Shopkeep sat the pack down on the counter, and Bouncy took it with a grin. "Thankies, Keep~" she replied with a bright smile, sliding over to one of the chairs, and leaning back. "Be gentle now...." The brown haired shopkeeper stared from behind his counter as the girl crossed her legs over one another.... Finally allowing her fingers to grip at her distressed opening.... But, still retaining her control, as she kept her shirt rolled up juuuuust enough to show her swollen bladder. It seemed like minutes passed, before Keep finally worked up the courage to step over and dare to slide his fingers down.... Pressing on that distention with a slow Pooooooooooooooke Bouncy shifted and wriggled in her seat, Meta WRITHING beside her as the Keeper pressed....Once...twice...thrice, on an increasingly firm bladder, prompting Bouncy to shiver, and quiver with need.... "Ohhh...Ohhhh it's baaaaaad." she groaned, feeling her body giving her telltale signs of losing the battle...The sensation of pressure mounting, of her lower muscles going numb, of the sharp rises in pressure, from contraction to contraction.... "BOUNCY, I SWEAR TO GOD, IF YOU DON'T GO NOW, I'LL BREAK YOUR BLADDER MYSELF!" After a few more gentle probes, the girl stood up on shaky legs, giving a playful... Flirty smile to the shopkeeper. "Mm..Mmmm...I'd bet..better go handle this..." she stated sweetly, swaying her hips back and forth with every step...Squirming, and shifting with every bit of progress. "R..Right...." Keep answered with a deep blush, standing up and heading back to his counter. "J..just be careful in there! I just mopped a bit ago, so the floor might still be we-" A thought not entirely heard by the time the girl got into the bathroom... Mere steps from salvation... But, in an echo of a past event, her careful, tensed posture gave way to the still-wet floor.... A Tragic Slip.... Forcing her legs apart.... P.Pssssh...Pssssssshhhhhhhh And, the cessation of what she thought was an indestructible bladder....A rush of warm, wet relief rushing out at the signal..... Dark blue material quickly moistening, darkening, and blooming with her long-overdue waters....A hand weakly grasping the counter for balance, as a loud SPLASHING could be heard throughout the entire store...... Leading to a mirrored release from the red haired spirit (Who was Rightfully Pissed), and another hasty closing of the store, to hide her shame....As it started to puddle across the bathroom floor.... Needing much much more time with a mop now..... =====================================================================================================================================

I've been tempted to wet my denim skinny jeans that I have, but I've been too scared that doing so will ruin them. Will peeing in them ruin them or is there another way around it?

panties, or underwear, or boxers, or boxer briefs....😍...or whatever really if it’s wet, and grey, post it here! (spinoff of the other thread about wet grey panties...thought it would be cool to have a thread where everyone can share a pic, of all different wet grey wear😁) I’ll start us off, wet grey leggings

At the beginning of summer, I went on a camping trip that I go regularly. Staying in a family based campsite there are regularly 40 - 50 of us in a field that get together and camp. I have my own large tent which I have to myself. However, as there are so many of us, we have a field to ourselves which means that the walk to the bathroom is of significant distance. No more than 3 - 4 minutes but enough that if you are really bursting to go; it can be a pretty close call. Over the years, I have had a few close calls but this year was a little different. On the last night of the trip, we generally all get together and cook on BBQs, drink with a selection of music going on. On this particular year, I had a few ciders but nothing too drastic. I had drank but was well in my realms of concentration. Little to no alcohol impediment to my judgement. I enjoyed the evening, chucking Frisbees around, eating good food and talking with some great and fantastic friends. At the end of the evening, I joined my two best friends on the camp and wondered to the toilet block to brush teeth. I used the bathroom sensibly and wondered back up to our field. Saying goodnight to my friends, I clambered into my own tent. I decided that as I had drank some alcohol, that I best drink some water. I hate hangovers and trying to put away a tent with one sucks. A lot. I drank about half a litre of water, deciding that it should be enough to prevent a hangover and hopefully mean I don't need to wake up during the night. After this, I stripped (I still sleep naked while camping) and got into bed, falling asleep pretty easily. My body had other ideas however. I woke up at 3am in the morning. I really needed a wee but it was still dark so I knew it would be a go back to sleep moment to hold until it was time to get up. Looking at the time on my watch, seeing it was just after 3am, I decided to try and go back to sleep. Sliding my hands under the duvet and grabbed myself gently. This usually is enough to put me in a go to sleep mode if I slightly need to pee. However, camping meant that my body wasn't wanting to go back to sleep. The birds and noises of the sea (We are very close to a beach), meant I couldn't relax. I just got more and more desperate but like a stubborn little child I didn't want to get up. After 30 minutes or so, I found myself with my duvet grinding between my legs, a constant wiggle on the airbed that I was sleeping on. I was determined to hold on for as long as possible, but eventually realised that it was fruitless. Sighing in exasperation at my loss of sleepiness by getting up (I mean it was probably ruined by now already :D), I climbed out of my warm duvet to the cool and crisp tent surroundings. As soon as I got up, I knew I was in a little bit of trouble. The gravity change from lying on the floor to standing up was a lot. All of the cider and water had caught up, with a huge bladder bulge. It was almost painful as it sloshed around, begging for release. I had to find something to put on now. As it was still dark, I couldn't quite see. I knew I had some PJ somewhere that were good enough. I didn't want to put jeans on and try and button them. Here I am, stepping from foot to foot in desperation, naked, trying to feel along my cupboards for my PJ, grabbing myself each time an urge comes along. And they were coming along faster and faster. Eventually I find my top first, pulling that over my head. I grabbed myself as soon as it was on, knowing that my PJ bottoms cannot be that far. Finding them with my left hand, my right clamped around me I picked them up. Curses, they were inside out and I need both hands to undo them. Releasing myself, I crossed my legs, bending up and down in my desperation. As I was pulling one leg through the waist band it happened. I leaked as I bent down with my crossed legs. Letting go of my PJ, I grabbed myself and braced as hard as I could. I could feel the drip run down the insides of my leg. I really wanted to avoid leaking any more as I didn't want to get the inside of the tent wet. Especially the bedding area. Regaining control, I quickly and quietly as possible slide my PJ trousers on, now the right way out and unzipped the bedroom section of my tent. Fortunately, the slip on shoes were in a logical place and other than dancing about as a madman in desperation nothing got worse. I got this I thought, I just am bloody desperate for a wee. Both shoes on I went to the front door and unzipped the tent. Bloody hell it was cold. This was too much for my body in desperation. I leaked again. Big this time, a full spurt. Ramming my one of my hands into my crotch, I crossed my legs and bent over. In my infinite wisdom I had grabbed my grey PJ trousers, not the black ones. It was lighter outside than I expected and I could just make out a stain under my hand that had gone down my left leg. I was seriously bursting for a wee now. Uncrossing my legs, hand still grabbing, I tried to rezip the tent door. With the sense of more leaks coming and my stepping from foot to foot not working to hold the desperation in, I gave this up. It was 3/4 the way down which at this time I sure was good enough. I set off down the field at a quick walking, my hand still between my legs. My bladder was sloshing all over the place, I could feel how heavy it was and how much I was bursting for a wee. I was at the stage where there were little tiny leaks coming from me constantly. No matter how much I held, there were short dribbles come out at all times. I still thought I could make it to the end of the field and the toilet block, I just prayed I didn't meet anyone as it would be clear I needed to wee really badly and had leaked before getting there. Even in the dim light it would be quite obvious. Half way down the field, a slight slope downwards, it hit me hard. I was walking on the grass to the side of the gravel road that ran through, and I completely spasmed. Like a little boy, I shoved both hands into my crotch, pulling my PJ trousers up my ankles a bit and crossed my legs around my hands. I really needed to wee. I could feel my trousers were quite damp under my hands now, but the stain hadn't gotten any bigger. I knew I had to make a break for it if I was going to make it. I was still a good 200m from the toilet block. Still fighting for control, I relaxed my hands and this was enough for my body to say 'that is that'. My bladder dropped. I regripped as hard as I could but to no avail. Pee poured out between my fingers, running in my trousers and pouring down my legs. I could hear it hissing out of me. I didn't want to completely empty so I gripped harder and tried to stop. This didn't work either. My trousers, were becoming more and more soaked, my hands completely drenched, it running between my fingers. I could feel it running over my crossed ankles, spraying around them and into my shoes. After a while, I sensed that I could have gained control and removed my hands. I could see, my grey trousers where completely soaked. Not a dry patch anywhere, in the very dull early morning light. I carried on peeing, it now freely splattering on the front as I peed forcefully. It felt like hours but was probably only a couple of minutes. After I had finished I realised how ridiculous I looked. I was stood in the middle of a field, with a small puddle, soaked PJs, at 3:30am in the morning. Fortunately, nobody had seen so I turn and wondered back to my tent. Things where much easier to open and close when I got back. I stripped and used a beach towel and dry and roll up my PJ for storage on the way home on the next day.

View File Timea is wetting her panties After doing all those garden work Timea is now relaxing on a bench there. She wants to reward herself for this good job and what could be better now than to make her panties all wet right there outdoors 😉 Submitter melikai Submitted 09/15/2019 Category Peeing