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  1. Gothes

    MAORI

    From the album: Ethnic Bladders

    To desperate to get up? MAORI Woman Location: New Zealand
  2. Hey guys I'm just wondering if anyone remembers a video that used to be online. I last remember seeing it around 2009ish. The title was something like "Dazzling French woman talking about her problem" The woman was speaking in French (with English subs), smoking a cigarette, and explaining her relentless desire to pee everywhere and on everything. She told a story about being at a wedding and peeing on the floor in front of everyone, explaining that they were all shocked and mortified. She ends by saying "And me, I was... happy." I'm pretty sure the video isn't online anymore but I was just wondering if anyone remembers it or has it saved. Thankz
  3. Heyya!! It occurred to me recently that I haven't done a proper wetting in ages...so I changed that today! Hope you all enjoy!! If you're just here for the pee action and don't care about the buildup, jump to paragraph 6! When I got home from work today, I discovered I needed to run to the store for groceries, but really wasn't in the mood for it. I was, however, in the mood for some pee fun so I came up with a compromise: I'd suck it up and go to the store, but with a challenge. I would chug at least two bottles of water before going in and I wasn't allowing myself to use the store restrooms. Suddenly feeling less down about grocery shopping, I changed out of my work clothes and into some tight jeans, a cute white top, and my designated "pee shoes". Not yet sure whether I'd end up wetting or make it back from the store without a drop in my panties, I moved the towel from my car trunk (is it bad that I keep one there for these occasions? ) to my passenger seat as a precaution. Then I grabbed a couple water bottles and set off, intentionally neglecting to visit the toilet beforehand. At about 6:15, I pulled into the store parking lot, cracked open a bottle, and downed it quickly. I was pretty thirsty, so the first went down pretty easily, but I struggled with the second, barely managing to choke down half of it. Nearly feeling nauseous from the sudden bombardment of fluids, I opted to cut my stomach some slack instead of sticking to my original plan. A bottle and a half would have to do. Excited, I climbed out of my car, water slashing around my innards. For the first 30 or so minutes, it didn't feel like a challenge at all. I intentionally stalled a little simply because I was worried I'd finish shopping before having any fun. Not long after, my fears were laid to rest. It was probably about 6:50 when the first inklings of urge were making themselves known. I pushed them to the back of my mind and carried on with my task, humming softly to myself like nothing was unusual. Another 10 minutes and I was at the point where I'd normally excuse myself to the ladies' room for the sake of comfort, but I wasn't aiming to be comfortable today . Seemingly only another five minutes passed and I was shocked at how mercilessly my kidneys were shoveling fluid at my bladder. Beginning to recognize the mistake I'd made in stalling, I picked up the pace, now hoping I'd be able to get out in time! Minutes ticked by and I began to notice myself fidgeting a little. The excitement was building. I felt little bursts of adrenaline, pumped by the speeding thud thud thud of my heart, and I imagined them coinciding with spurts of urine into my quickly-filling bladder. A sense of naughtiness filled me as I looked around at the other shoppers, blissfully unaware of how intensely sensual every pulsating second was. This pushed me even harder. Desperation was on the horizon and I was going to meet it. I stepped into the fruit isle and, after glancing around to ensure nobody could see, danced a little in place, trying to relieve the pressure. It didn't help. Quickly, I loaded my cart, hardly taking the time to consider if I were actually out of what I was buying. Finally, I was finished. I glanced at my watch. 7:20. By then, I hadn't merely met desperation. It consumed me. I raced to the self-check out as quickly as my fluid-overloaded state permitted without leaking all over the floor. My heart dropped when I arrived and saw a small line. By now, I couldn't even conceal my state. I'm sure I either looked like I was going to have a massive anxiety attack and crumple onto the floor in fetal position, or someone more perceptive might accurately guess that I was about to catastrophically explode the contents of my bladder everywhere. When it seemed nobody was looking I discreetly (probably not nearly as discreetly as I hoped) pushed my hand into my crotch, bouncing up and down all the while. Honestly, I probably looked like one of the characters from The Sims when they're desperate! ...Beep. Beep. Beep. Please check your basket and scan additional items now. I wanted to scream! After an eternity--Really only 30 or so seconds. Trust me. I was watching my watch as though it could make a difference--it was my turn. Every tick...tick...tick... of the second hand was drip...drip...drip... into my bladder. I scanned my items furiously, eying the nearby ladies room jealously, wondering if I should just give it up. No. I turned my gaze back to the items I was practically violently throwing into my cart. Beep. Beep. Beep. Please check your bask-- I hit the button before it could finish and ran my card through before it fully processed. Suddenly, I thought I felt a dampness between my legs. Mortified, my heart seized as I looked down and patted myself down there. Nope. Nothing. My mind was playing tricks on me. COME ON. I muttered exasperatedly under my breath, afraid the next time would be real... ...FINALLY. I didn't even remember to grab my receipt. I gripped my cart, fingers turning white, and hobbled as quickly as I could for the exit. The automatic doors could hardly open quickly enough as I barrelled through, my bladder threatening to give out any second. If I can just get to my car. I'm right. there. behind. that. truck... As I staggered to my car, I didn't even have time to make sure I was out of sight. Crying--even now I'm not sure why, whether agony, relief, embarrassment, pleasure, or some divine amalgamation of the four--I threw myself against the driver side door as a flood of warmth gushed between my legs. This time it was real. As I buried my face in my arms and the thick, brunette swaths of my hair, the searing hiss of urine jetting into my instantly-soaked panties tickled my ears. The tantalizing rush teased my lady bits and swiftly overtook my butt. I trembled, resigning myself to the inexorable torrent below. The confines of my panties were no match for the cascades that soon crawled down quivering thighs, carving intricate rivers toward the ocean of pavement. I let out an involuntary moan and shivered, quite separately from the shaking. My knees seemed to give out and I dropped into a squat, still afraid to open my eyes or lift my gaze from the haven of my arms and hair. I silently prayed nobody could see me--or if they could, that they wouldn't dare approach. Meanwhile, the stream of urine now pooling in the butt of my jeans and leaking onto the pavement below with a gentle patter showed little sign of relenting. Adrenaline coursed through me and the sheer beating of my heart seemed to force the pee out. Wiping the tears that soaked my face as thoroughly as the pee soaked my crotch, I opened my eyes to the blurry world, begging for nobody to be witnessing this. Miraculously, nobody was. I had heard the occasional car drive by, but nobody seemed to notice the woman peeing herself between her car and a large truck in the middle of the parking lot. I gave thanks and fell to a sitting position, my bladder stores finally approaching depletion. Sniffling, I looked around and found myself sitting in the midst of a massive puddle, soaked from my crotch to my socks. Still quivering, I smiled weakly to myself, realizing how badly I missed this. Everything finally came to a spurting end...sort of. I was hydrated enough that it seemed to replenish before I could truly finish. Finally I called it good enough and climbed to my knees, the puddle beneath me tinkling gently as I rose. My jeans clung to me jealously, emphasizing nearly every detail of my legs. Then I looked up and realized I'd fully soaked myself without even loading my groceries up... I sat in silence for a brief moment, cursing myself and pondering how to load my car and replace the cart without arousing suspicion with my completely saturated groin, butt, and...well...everything waist-down. With no better option, I wrapped my towel around my waist, no doubt looking completely mental, loaded my car, prayed I wouldn't run into anyone I know, and returned the cart to a nearby rack. Trying to shield my tear-streaked face, I didn't look around at anyone, but I could feel the strange looks as "this crazy lady was walking through the parking lot with a towel around her waist". I returned to my car, emptied my bladder again, a several-second stream rewarming the now-cold crotch of my panties and teasing my ladies bits even more, and climbed into my car, the towel still strategically wrapped around my lower half. By the time I returned to my apartment, I had to pee again. Not nearly as badly of course, but it was definitely there. Sneakily, I pulled in behind the dumpster, where nobody could peek out of a window at me. Quickly, I removed the towel, jumped out, and wet myself yet again. Then I replaced the towel, drove to my usual parking spot, and made a mad dash to my door so I could change before someone could inquire about my ridiculous circumstances. It was tough to restrain myself from tending to things "down there" before bringing my groceries in, but I managed to refrain long enough to get everything in and start up a hot (in more ways than one ) shower.
  4. Heyyy everyone!! This one's a bit less adventurous than usual, but I didn't want to leave you all out of the fun! Sooo, confession time: Last night, I had a really sexy pee dream that left me feeling particularly excited "down there" when I woke up... It was a pretty crummy day outside, so instead of going out and doing anything, I decided to make today a home day and, because I was feeling so tantalized, figured I could work on developing my pee abilities and have some personal time! For those of you who are into (ridiculous) fantasy writing, I'll describe my dream first (or at least the coherent and relevant parts). If that's not your thing, go ahead and skip down to paragraph 7!! So it began as a crowded concert at a beach. The sun was dipping into the sea at the horizon, a vibrant red/orange gleaming off of the waves behind the stage as a groovy riff rose from the instruments. A handful of my friends and I were really into the music, dancing and flinging our bodies about without a care in the world. Just as I was happily twirling my summer dress in the cool evening breeze, my friend Alyssa turned to me and cheesily said, "Gotta pee, BRB!" and disappeared seemingly-aimlessly into the crowd. With the insight only one immersed in a dream could possibly have, I instinctively knew she was going in the wrong direction to find the restroom (even though I had no idea where they really were). I ran after her to give her a heads up, but was unable to catch a glimpse of her in the throng of fellow music enthusiasts. Meanwhile, the air shook with the pulsating notes arising from the nimble fingers of the bassist. The mellow mood of the evening suddenly shifted to unease in my mind. What if I can't find her and she doesn't find the restroom? Somehow, these thoughts gradually contorted into, What if I can't find the restroom? and I suddenly felt the urge to relieve myself. I wrestled through the sticky, sweaty, crowd, the pulsating notes resonating inside my bladder. Desperation was knocking, threatening to bust down the door to my urethra. I quickly looked down to ensure I wasn't leaking in my...jeans? (I had been wearing a dress before, but that didn't occur to me until after I woke up). Hallelujah. Still dry. I plunged my hand into my groin and continued to struggle through the crowd, now genuinely fearful I was going to wet myself in front of all these strangers. Just in the nick of time, however, I looked up and saw an abnormally large sign looming overhead, indicating the location of the women's room. With one hand pressing into my lady bits, I used my free hand to force people out of my way, some of them protesting at my blatant rudeness. Finally, I burst from the edge of the crowd and hobbled toward the restroom, hunched over in desperation. Hurriedly, I ran into the door. It didn't budge. I fell to the ground, curled up, nearly crying because I had to pee so badly. With one hand, I was clutching my nether region, with the other, my face. Between the shadows of my fingers, I saw the door suddenly open and some feet approach. I looked up through misty eyes and saw a man with dark hair looking down at me. "Sorry miss," he said with a strange accent, gesturing behind me, "Toilets 're closed. Yew'v gotta yewz the sand." I rolled over and saw several other women doing exactly that--but rather strangely. They were lining the edge of the beachfront, where the sand faded into sidewalk, none of them making any attempts to conceal themselves from the dancing crowd. One blonde girl in her mid-20's had pulled her pink shorts down to her knees, squatted and was urinating vigorously all over her own bare feet, splattering violently and darkening the sand beneath her. Another, with auburn hair, was probably in her early 30's. She had a dress, which she left in place as she stood to pee, the liquid trickling down and pooling between her legs. I could tell there were others, who were squatting like the first, but I couldn't make out their features because they were facing away from me, ardently making their own puddles. Nobody seemed to think this out of the ordinary and kept about their business as these women openly released the contents of their bladders. What will my friends think if I do that?! I thought in despair, despite the apparent social acceptability, suddenly remembering my friends for the first time since the start of the dream. I rose to my knees and turned back around to the restroom. This time, a second door that I hadn't seen before had materialized. It was the men's room. I bolted to my feet, the sudden movement miraculously not stressing my bladder at all apparently, and made a mad dash for the door. This one gave way and I entered a very large restroom--far too large for the building I had just entered. Not concerned by the logical bounds of physics, I darted my eyes around and took in my surroundings. On the left, stood a massive row of urinals--probably 30 in total--no privacy screens between them. In the very back of room, there were a handful of stalls, fashioned from strangely elegant wood. To the right, a line of sinks that mirrored the urinals. There were quite a few men around, probably 20-40 in total. Some were relieving themselves into the urinals, penises easily visible, some were washing their hands, and some were dancing to the music. Nobody seemed particularly off-put by my presence in the men's room, nor did the ones at the urinals take offense at my attention to their actively-leaking hardware. Then, I noticed a handful of other guys immediately to my left, who were talking to some women, lined up along the wall next to the door I just entered. Nobody seemed irked by their presence either. One of the ladies proudly boasted, "Look what I can do!" and promptly completed an, admittedly, awe-inspiring (physics defying) back flip. The guys were all very impressed...and not at all phased by the strange nature of women showing off back flips in the men's room. I noted that one of the guys--muscular, with dark hair, brown eyes, and some stubble--was particularly cute. I wasn't about to be one-upped by this girl in front of him, so I cried out, "Oh yeah?! Watch this!" They, including the handsome one, all turned to look at me, presumably expecting some sort of gymnastic feat. Instead, I darted for the nearest urinal, which was currently being used, and pushed the guy out of the way, disrupting the grip on his manhood, causing a splatter of pee before he resumed his business at the next urinal. Then, I unzipped the front of my jeans (I hadn't changed my clothes this time!) somehow maneuvered my clothing so my urethra wasn't occluded (which was honestly probably a more impressive feat than the black flip), and began to pee--through the fly! I sighed with relief and glowed with pride as I looked down, seeing nothing but a urinal between my legs and a jet of urine splattering flawlessly into the porcelain, shooting from between the teeth of my zipper (I didn't even unbutton!). It felt surreal to stand there, peeing just like a guy, but even less exposed, in the middle of the men's room, with a rather attractive audience . Pee continued to pour out perfectly, and I glanced to the side, where I could make out pink protrusions from the guys' pants, gripped gently between their fingers, sprinkling urine into their respective urinals. I wish I'd had the perspicacity to ask them if they wanted to compare sizes . Some of them seemed very startled, others didn't seem to notice (ya know, this kind of thing happens every day, right?!) After several moments of urine tinkling into the basin below, my stream finally came to a spurting end, which, conveniently enough, did not require any wiping, shaking, or drying at all. "Thank you, boys," I said condescendingly with a little curtsy as I zipped up my jeans and turned to face the guy I was trying to impress. Judging from the bulge in his pants, it had worked! As I smugly approached him, he said, "That was nothing," and unzipped his own jeans. I was growing very excited. Things below were tingling very nicely and the room seemed to heat up. He backed up against the sinks and pulled out his long, rigid, penis. I gasped a little and halted in my walk, gently touching my hand to the front of my pants. Then, fully erect, he shot a spurt of pee from the sink and managed to land it in the urinal against the opposite wall (I did warn you this dream was absolutely ridiculous). Urine sprayed majestically from his rigid jewel below and he shot a proud grin at me. I approached cautiously. "May I?" I asked, my eyes darting from his smile to the toy below his belt. He nodded and I gripped it tenderly. The skin was soft, but it felt firm as iron beneath. I could feel the pee coursing through the plumbing within. I was filled with so much excitement, I thought I might explode. I pried my eyes away and looked at the target on the other wall. He was still hitting the urinal, spot-on. With a sly smile, I jerked his penis to the side, sending urine cascading all over the bathroom. I giggled childishly and flicked it around again. Before long, I was waving it all over the place, shooting just about anything I could aim at. It was euphoric! I was filled with such awe...I can hit anything! That is, until my alarm blared and I was aroused to reality with a start (I swear, it's like the alarm sets itself to interrupt the best parts of my favorite dreams! ). Speaking of aroused, however, my panties were soaked--and not with urine. My heart was pounding and I felt like I was on fire. Still dazed and absolutely enraptured by the dream, I climbed out of bed, crossed my room with my legs awkwardly spread in a futile attempt to avoid smearing the juices any more, and bitterly hit my alarm. I made my way to the toilet, where I relieved a very full bladder and cleaned up (and, you guessed it, played a fair bit...which was really unavoidable anyway, given how alive things were down there ). I glanced out the window and noted how dismal the day was--gray and drizzly. I decided then; I didn't want to go anywhere...besides, I had more important things to do. My mind kept flicking back to the end of the dream: The freedom of peeing through a little slit in my pants without spilling a drop...but even more pressingly, the liberation of having a penis. I mean, sure, I didn't actually possess one in my dream, but I got a taste of what it must be like for the male populace by flicking around that one guy's hardware (emphasis on the hard ). Disappointed, I resigned myself to only ever using a penis in my fantasies, but I figured I could make the most of the plumbing I've got (or haven't got)! Today, I would commit myself to cleanly peeing with my pants up, just as well as any guy! I started off with several full glasses of water, and thus the wait began. I grabbed some dirty jeans out of the laundry and threw on a ratty t-shirt, maybe not sexy, but sensible attire for the task at hand. I forewent panties, figuring I needed to leave the trajectory as open as possible. As I waited for my bladder to fill, I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and plotted my strategy. I stood in front of my toilet, spread my legs, and unzipped the fly. This is never going to work. I couldn't see anything but the front of my jeans (duh). I fidgeted with the denim, trying to make just enough of my vulva protrude to give my urethra a clean shot...it clearly wasn't going to happen like this. I probably wrestled with it for a full 5 minutes, trying to find some sort of angle with which I could leave my pants fully up, but get my lady bits semi-exposed. Finally, I resigned my dream to being exactly that: A dream, but I wasn't about to give up entirely. I pulled my jeans about halfway down my butt. The waistband hugged my cheeks tightly, but I wasn't entirely flashing the audience (which, thankfully, was just my toilet and the bathroom wall for now). I pushed down the flaps of my unzipped and unbutton pants, exposing my pubic mound to the toilet lid. I thrust my hips awkwardly forward and leaned awkwardly backward. It's a long shot...but it's worth a try. I pulled my jeans back up, fastened them, took another swig of water, and awaited my bladder. After about an hour, my kidneys were dumping freshly-processed urine into my bladder at a very noticeable rate. I grinned to myself and made my way back to the toilet. I removed my socks, kicked them over to the bathroom door, and threw a towel onto the floor in front of the toilet. Stepping before the porcelain throne, I pulled my jeans about halfway down my butt again and assumed the aforementioned stance, my hips jutting out, my upper body leaning back. I stepped so I was essentially straddling the toilet, but still standing. I messed with the front of my jeans a little, trying to clear the way for my pee stream before I noticed a significant oversight. In restitution, I bent over, lifted the toilet seat, saying, "For the ladies," and let out what was probably a particularly girly giggle. I re-assumed my position and prepared myself for trial 1. I had incredibly poor line-of-sight for the action, but by the way it felt, I knew I was going to shoot pee all over the front of my pants. Mildly frustrated, I pressed firmly against the crotch of my jeans, attempting to push it between my legs. It didn't feel like these efforts cleared much more of the "runway", but "liftoff" was about to proceed anyhow. Worst case, I pee all over myself, the toilet, and the floor and try it again in a few minutes...and that's, more or less, what happened. With a little pressure, a moderate stream of urine found its way out of my urethra...straight onto the front of my jeans. I heard the mellow patter of fluid hitting fabric and felt the familiar warmth of pee gushing all over my hand. I cursed quietly and attempted to reposition, but with little avail. The flood continued to enthusiastically pour from my crotch, rapidly darkening my jeans. I released the front of my pants and attempted to fidget with my labia, hoping I could figure out a way to aim. The results were exactly what you're probably expecting: More pee torrented all over my hands and splattered clumsily into my jeans. Enough had soaked in that I began hearing the soft tinkle of what managed to weave its way out of the fabric and drop into the basin below. Warmth steadily seeped through my attire, sticking to my legs as the dampness descended. I shivered suddenly with a chill, adding even more misfortune to the chaos below. Thus, I stood, soaking my pants until the last few spurts...thwap, thwap...thudded against the fabric of my clothing. The amusement of having flooded my pants and spattered my bathroom quickly overcame the frustration of a failed attempt and I laughed to myself. I peeled my jeans off of my skin and chucked them into the bathtub. I grabbed another towel, dried myself off, and, likewise, threw that into the tub. Bottomless, I washed my hands and made my way to the kitchen (awkwardly dodging around the house to close the blinds I'd forgotten to shut earlier). As I waited for my bladder to gear up for round 2, I made myself a quick breakfast. As such, the day carried on for several hours, each attempt as doomed as the first. Finally, at the end, I simply pulled the pants all the way down to my ankles and had mild success peeing into the toilet from a standing position, but still managed to spray pee all over the place. All in all, it was an incredibly fun, albeit somewhat unsatisfying day! I guess this'll just intensify the penis envy until I can figure out a way to maximize the equipment I've been given
  5. Heyy all!! This one is fresh from yesterday afternoon!! So I love being active and, lately, have been really into the idea of doing a triathlon, leading me to dust off my bicycle and give it some exercise. It has been really hot and humid lately, leading me to drink a lot of water before I go out. As I'm sure you're all very well aware, what goes in must come out Yesterday, I got off of work a little early and hurried home, debating whether to settle for a running or biking day. By the time I parked my car, I'd decided on two-wheeling it for the day. I gave myself about an hour to unwind after work and stock up on fluids, which I, admittedly, may have overdone. Meanwhile, I changed into a bright pink tank top and black shorts. By the turn of the clock, I had loaded my bike onto my car and was ready to go! I cruised over to a nice, paved trail about 20 minutes from my home, entirely neglecting to relieve myself before setting off. When I pulled into the parking space and began unloading my bike, my bladder was already making itself known, but I intentionally disregarded it. I hadn't had a good, daring pee since I was caught a few months ago and, as embarrassing as that was, I was craving the thrill again. Plus, I figured, I could find a nice water-deprived bush off the trail and hydrate it if things got really bad. It's not uncommon to see guys and, occasionally, other girls coming back onto the trail from the woods, presumably having done exactly that. With that looming in the back of my mind, I set off! A few miles in, it was starting to get bad. I could no longer push the urge to pee into the back of my mind. I was just riding past an area where the trail meets a stream with a pretty waterfall--a popular location for trail walkers and families, however, so I needed to hold it until I was clear of all the people. Every drop that cascaded down the waterfall teased my bladder, which threatened to release a similar cascade from my crotch. I bit my lip and pressed on, occasionally trying to discreetly press my hand between my legs--as if that ever helped. As I zipped past the people, happily laughing and taking photos, blissfully oblivious of the woman urging her bladder not to burst, I considered my options. Obviously, the bushes were a relatively safe bet...but I didn't want safe--not today. I could get off my bike, pull my shorts and panties to the side, and soak the pavement. Perhaps a little too risky. I wasn't keen on giving any passersby a free show of my lady bits. Why not just pee while I ride? Forget the pit stop altogether! With that thought, I flashed a devilish grin, which was quickly washed away by the waves of urine sloshing around in my abdomen. At last, I found a spot of the trail where the laughs and yells of others were out of earshot. I looked forward and backward, each twist an act of torture--threatening to prematurely force open the floodgates. Nobody's in sight. Now or never. As I caught a slight decline, I stopped pedaling, scooted slightly forward on the bike seat, and relaxed my muscles. Perhaps facilitated by my sitting position, the first spurts of pee discharged far more quickly and easily than I anticipated. Within seconds, my panties, unable to handle the rush of fluid, which overflowed and dampened my shorts. A creeping darkness overtook my groin and pee warmly gushed all over my butt and my legs, leaving the bicycle seat a gleaming black, and pattering to the ground, leaving a trail of drops. I let out a moan of relief as I coasted, leaking all over myself and my bike. It was a surreal sensation--the world rushing by as the contents of my bladder rushed downward. This sensation began to fade, however, as I hit the bottom of the decline and began losing momentum. Preoccupied by the urine spouting out of my urethra, I put my feet out, catching myself and standing over my bike. There, I stood, ferociously gushing from my nether region. The wind began blowing, a coolness overtaking me as it collided with my sweat and my newly-wet legs. Some of the fluid rushed down into my socks, which thirstily licked it up, diverting it into my shoes. The rest cascaded straight down, hitting the frame of my bike or tumbling straight to an ever-growing puddle below. Cautiously, I continued darting glances in both directions to ensure nobody was coming. The coast was clear. At last, however, as all good things do, the final few spurts came to a sputtering end, and I stood there, soaked from the waist down, in a puddle of my own pee, gently gripping my similarly-wet bicycle by the handles. Eagerly, I observed the damage with a smile. A splash of pee formed a small, trickling stream from the puddle beneath my gleaming legs. My shorts were soaked, clinging hungrily to my skin. The bicycle seat was drenched and the frame dripped seductively. Now beaming, I mounted my bike and set off again, adrenaline shooting through my body, giving my ride new life. By the time I made it back to my car, only my panties were slightly damp, but my spirit was not! ...And my bladder was full again. I had parked on the edge of the lot, next to the woods, away from most of the other cars. There were a few people chatting on the other side. I grabbed the towel I keep in my trunk and laid it on my seat in order to avoid getting pee all over it. Then, I made my way to the passenger side of the car, stood where my lower half was obscured, and peed myself again, laughing as I watered the grass, nobody else aware of the 24-year-old woman peeing down her legs like a little girl. Upon finishing, I shook my legs as dry as I could, climbed into my car, and made my way back home.
  6. Hi folks, I would like to show you this website here which I found a few weeks ago and I honestly have no idea what this site is really about, but apparently they post videos of women desperate to pee even though I think that this is not the main purpose of those clips, but hey, a desperate woman is a desperate woman ... maybe some of you can tell me more about what is actually going on here. Unfortunately you have to buy the videos so that you can watch them, but there are some short previews that look kinda great. Nudity Warning! https://www.water-detox.club
  7. Heyy everyone!! I just got in from an 8.5-hour drive for work, so if my writing is a bit lacking, I apologize in advance! During these long hours, however, I tackled a new pee challenge to stave off the boredom and wanted to share the experiences while the excitement is fresh! So I woke up about an hour earlier than I intended this morning. Typically, I would hop into the shower pretty quickly and relieve myself for the morning there, but I had an idea: From the moment of awakening until I checked into my motel room, I would only pee in unconventional places...and never in the same place twice. I guess showers aren't technically a "conventional place" to release one's bladder, but I find it so dang satisfying that I do it every morning (confession time haha) and figured it'd be cheating to start off my new challenge that way. I was really bursting for a pee, so I opted for perhaps the simplest and easiest "unconventional pee" on the books: I dashed to my living room, slipped off my panties, spread my legs a little more than shoulder-width apart, closed my eyes, and relaxed. Within seconds, the morning silence turned into a crisp patter, which swiftly transformed into a forceful cascade. My eyes still shut, my lips curled into an impish smile with satisfaction as I let out a relieved sigh. I really had to go. I moved my feet together and shot a glance down as a warm rush began to encompass my feet. A very sizeable puddle was forming on my wood floor (I made an immature joke to myself about morning wood) and streaks of stray urine streamed down my legs. Apparently, my floor isn't entirely level because a small stream began to shoot off to the right of the puddle. Who'd've thought pee could be a handy architectural tool? At last, the contents of my bladder diminished to the last few drops, some of which spurted to the floor, the rest to my legs. I recognized the error of my ways as I went to fetch some paper towels...leaving a trail of pee foot prints on my path to the kitchen. Still enjoying my nakedness from the waist down, I grabbed a wad of towels, wiped my self down, and retraced my tracks to the formidable puddle. Then I ran a quick mop around the area, hopped into the shower, and prepared for my trek, feeling satisfied with my first wizz of the day. I donned a black skirt today to facilitate my unwillingness to use the facilities, and hopped into my car for the long journey, gently sipping from my water bottle. About an hour down the road, I still wasn't feeling any urge at all, so I began drinking a little more ambitiously. Another hour passed and, right about the time my gas tank was hitting E, my bladder was hitting F. I had been mildly fidgeting in my seat for a few minutes and was thankful for a pit stop. I pulled into a dumpy little gas station and was quickly thankful for my pact of unconventional peeing. It seemed like the kind of place you'd catch 15 diseases just from touching the restroom door handle. As I lifted the nozzle and put it into my gas tank, I pondered my options. It was fairly deserted, so I had a fair amount of freedom. The botanical coverage was somewhat lacking, so I couldn't run off into the woods to pee--which would've been fairly boring anyway. My options were either to pee at my car or around the side of the building. I started to make my way around the building when it occurred to me, There's no one here. Just pee from your car! I felt a surge of excitement with the thought. But what if someone drives up while I'm peeing? I shot back. You're two hours from home. Even if someone catches you, they won't recognize you. I retorted. Yeah, but what if someone catches me..? My argument against this undertaking was buckling. I quickly walked back to my car and made sure nobody from inside could make out what was going on. Between the numerous large advertisements in the window and where I was parked, I discerned that I could occlude line of sight from both the convenience store and the road if I opened my driver and rear passenger door. All the while, my bladder was urging me to quickly determine my course of action. Okay...You win. I conceded to myself. You won't regret it. I snarkily assured myself. I took one last glance around to ensure there were no unexpected audience members for the show. It was just as clear as when I pulled in. Tally ho. I opened both of my doors, lifted my skirt, and sat on the frame of the car. I nervously slid my panties to the side, my heart pounding furiously, the thrill egging me on. I continued nervously glancing around, certain some massive procession would determine that was the precise time to come gas up. Thankfully, no such procession materialized--only the occasional car shot down the road, oblivious to the woman baring her nether region to the gas pump in front of her. I had some difficulty getting the waterworks flowing as the hot humidity bore down on me, feeling like a thousand boiling oceans under the anxiety. I cursed softly as some urine gently shot askew, dampening my groin and streaking down to my butt. This was enough, however, to get the juices moving. I adjusted myself as the spurt evolved into a steady stream, drenching the pavement beneath me. My muscles were trembling from nervousness, excitement, and because of my awkward position. Once the stream was adequately established, I glanced around again. Still clear. Suddenly...THUD. Startled, my heart and I simultaneously jumped, and while I thankfully managed to avoid peeing all over myself, my stream faltered. It was just the gas pump as it finished filling my tank. I sighed with relief, adrenaline coursing through my body even more rapidly than the urine had been coursing from my urethra. After a moment, I managed to relax enough to begin peeing again. By the last few spurts, I had left a very respectable puddle, which pooled satisfyingly and streamed away slowly. My cover still not blown, I reached into my car, grabbed a tissue, and wiped myself clean. I replaced my panties and rubbed some sanitizer onto my hands as I admired my puddle and its many proud streaks. My heart was still pounding as I leaped into my car and sped off, nobody the wiser. Now I was feeling really confident. Perhaps too confident. For the sake of making good time on my trip, it took every ounce of will I had to not feverishly down water in anticipation of the next adventure. Despite this incredible (if I may say so myself) display of self-control, I had enough residual fluid working its way through my kidneys that I only made it about another hour down the road before pit stop #2 became a necessity. Okay...admittedly, I probably could've delayed a little longer, but I was excited to go for round 2 . This time, I pulled into a McDonalds...that wasn't quite as vacant as the gas station. This is going to be a challenge. I parked my car and made my way in, surveying the area. There were probably about 6 or 7 people, not counting employees, suggesting that perhaps trying anything outside was a bad idea. I briskly walked to the bathrooms and pushed open the door to the women's room, hoping it was maybe single occupancy and I could just pee in the sink or something (I wasn't about to give up so easily in the face of adversity!). To my disappointment, it was not. There were two stalls, a trash can, and a sink. I thought about pulling the trash can into the stall and peeing into it, but that seemed somewhat like cheating, so I opted against it. Hmm...What about a floor drain? Nope. It was in the middle of the bathroom. I'd be flashing anyone walking through the door. Recognizing I didn't have any particularly good options there, I gently cracked open the door to take another look around. In doing so, I caught a glimpse of the men's room sign. A light bulb went off in my head. Even using the stall in there wouldn't be a conventional pee. The bathroom entrances were offset into a little cove, with walls that occluded the doors from the rest of the restaurant. I slowly crept out to see if I could sneak my way in (praying I wasn't going to walk in on some guy at the urinal). There were several people sitting within sight of the cove, but they were pretty distracted. But what if I walk in on some guy peeing?! Again, my heart was racing. I compromised. I went back into the women's room, where I could wait without looking out-of-place to other restaurant goers. I stood by the door and listened for the men's room door. Several minutes passed, during which I heard nothing. If anyone's in there, he's taking a crap and I can slip out unnoticed. I exited the women's room again and nervously glanced from the cove. Nobody was paying much attention, so I swiftly and confidently (only on the outside. Inside, I was terrified) pushed my way into the men's room, half expecting to find a guy, penis-in-hand, with a look of shock on his face as I barged in. Thankfully, I did not. It was empty. The butterflies in my stomach were violently trying to rip their way out of my abdominal wall and pure epinephrine jolted through me. I swear, my heart rate probably set a world record. I quickly made my way toward the stall, longingly eying the urinal and I passed. I closed the stall door behind me, silently sighing with immense relief as I clicked the lock. As I turned to face the toilet, my anxious euphoria was dampened slightly--the toilet was filthy. It was covered in urine and there were splatters on the floor. Cautiously, I raised my skirt up, pulled my panties to the side, and semi-straddled the porcelain with my butt hanging over it, afraid to let anything touch it. Again, my muscles were trembling--though much more this time. Admittedly, as I began to pee, I contributed a fair amount to the urine on the toilet seat (oops! ). Relief swept over me as I emptied my bladder, vigorously tinkling into the water below. It was strange to get such a surge of excitement from something so mundane as a regular toilet! Context is everything, I guess! As I was wiping, my heart surged again and my eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as I heard the door open. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP--No--BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, my heart raced so loudly I thought for sure he would hear it. Still hovering my butt over the toilet seat, toilet paper in hand, I barely dared to breathe as I heard this mystery man rustling his pants at the urinal. The sound of urine striking porcelain. I'd've probably been turned on, had I not been terrified. I'm certain he only peed for a normal amount of time, but it seemed to me as though his bladder was endless. I began to think I would grow old and die in this men's room stall, awaiting his conclusion. At last, however, my fears were assuaged when, somehow, the sound of him spitting and the flush of the urinal were not drowned out by the ferocious pounding of my cardiovascular system. He spent a few brief seconds at the sink and I heard the door open...then close. I stood there for a few moments, absolutely petrified. Suddenly, my thoughts burst into a frenzy. I finished wiping, didn't even remember to flush or wash my hands, and dashed for the door, afraid someone would walk in. Thankfully, nobody did. I burst through the door much more forcefully than I had intended. This attracted the attention of a lady at a table near the restrooms who gave me a puzzled look, which transitioned into a dirty look when she realized I was emerging from the men's room. I just sped past, avoiding eye contact, and jumped into my car. It wasn't until several miles down the road that I finally calmed down and remembered I forgot to wash up. More hand sanitizer. And a lot of AC--I had worked up a bit of a sweat. After the anxiety subsided, I began laughing with hysterical euphoria. I did it! I used a men's room in a crowded area AND at the same time as a guy! Also striking to me, was that, because I was like 3 hours away from home, there were virtually no consequences. Sure, the woman caught me, but what was she going to do? We'll never see each other again! Seeing how crazy long this recount is becoming, I'll quickly summarize the more mundane ones (or ones similar to stories I've written in the past) and then skip to the final one. Another hour and a half in, I peed into a gas station restroom trash can (yeah, I know, I considered this cheating earlier...but after McDonalds, I was willing to tame it down a bit). Two hours after that, I did the classic cup-pee in my car at a roadside rest. Finally, after about 8.5 hours of travel, a little longer than anticipated, I pulled into the motel. During the last half hour, I began really piling on the fluids again, so by the time I pulled in, I really had to go--bad. I wasn't allowed a trip to the ladies' room until I had checked into my room, however. I parked and virtually ran inside, hoping to work through the process as quickly as possible. Thankfully, I didn't have to wait in a line. The guy checking me in was very friendly. I probably seemed like an anti-social jerk because I was focusing more on not peeing all over the floor, or at the very least, dancing like an idiot in front of him, clutching my lady bits, than on friendly chit-chat. Hurriedly, I thanked him as I grabbed my key and raced off. Not even bothering to grab my luggage, I began searching for my room. En route, however, I found a little cove that I assumed formerly hosted a vending machine. As I shot past it, I turned around, considering, Why waste a perfectly good bladder of pee? You haven't checked into your room yet. Forget the luxury of a toilet. I glanced around to ensure nobody was loitering around. Nope. I ducked into the cove, where I proceeded to fully and properly wet myself. No skirt-raising, no panties pulled to the side, just torrents of pee rushing down my legs, soaking my socks and shoes, and a steady trickle straight to the ground, forming yet another large puddle. After the encounter at McDonalds, this seemed like child's play and came to me easily. Within a long few seconds, I was thoroughly drenched from the waist down. I giggled a little as I admired my puddle, then raced off to find my room, the urine quickly cooling in the night breeze, chilling my legs ever so slightly. I found my room and, still wearing my urine-soaked clothes, lugged all my stuff in, enjoying the dampness. Without even changing, I laid a towel on the chair and set up my laptop to write this. Now...if you'll excuse me, I have some cleaning up to do and some tingling to tend to downstairs I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did!!
  8. Hey all!! Sorry it's been so long! I'm still alive; I'm just super busy and haven't made time to share any stories for a while, but that ends now! If you just want to get straight to the peeing, skip to paragraph 5! A few weeks ago, my friends and I went to a local music festival. The event lasted most of the day, but we arrived much later, around 4:30PM or so. The sun was still fairly high in the sky and it. was. hot. Thankfully, drinks were abundant--a blessing I quickly took advantage of. The first hour and a half were fairly uneventful. My posse and I enjoyed the music, the atmosphere, and each other's company. All the while, I nursed whatever fluids I could find. Around 6ish, the repercussions were making themselves known. Being a crowded event with a fair bit of drinking, I knew I'd need to grab a spot in the porta potty line pretty quickly or I'd be in trouble. Being the fool I am, I put it off for about 20 minutes before handing my purse to a friend for safekeeping and pushing my way through the throng. The line wasn't difficult to find and my heart sank when I saw the multitudes seemingly lined up to the horizon. I silently cursed myself for not having the foresight to wear a skirt so I could sit somewhere and quietly wet myself in the grass with no one the wiser. Alas, my lamentably poor planning relegated my ill-fated bladder and me to the latrine line, eternal. I grabbed a spot in line. My situation was not yet urgent, but my bladder was making itself known. As I slowly progressed forward, I surveyed the many others who suffered the same wait. I estimated 2/3 or so were women and I wondered if most men simply found a secluded bush or tree somewhere. Most of the people in line were chatting or grooving to the music, but a handful seemed to be anxiously awaiting their turn to relieve themselves. One girl in particular seemed to be trying (and failing) to discreetly fidget, bouncing from one foot to the other, occasionally pressing her legs together, and frequently checking her phone. Ages seemed to pass and she was fortunate enough to get a turn before she burst all over herself. My turn was still quite a while off and I began fearing I'd end up like her...only less fortunate. I began fantasizing about the freedom of simply letting loose right there in line. The rush of warmth into my panties soaking my butt, my thighs, and making its way down to my socks and shoes. The shocked faces of bystanders as a grown woman soaked herself in front of them. My face turning red and heating up with embarrassment as my friends gazed in disbelief at the dark patch overcoming my groin as it spread to consume my shorts. The scenario aroused me terribly...and wonderfully...I gripped my hamstrings tightly (though hopefully discreetly), trying unsuccessfully to calm myself down. I wished with all my heart I could simply pee and rub myself through my wet shorts. Silently, I said a prayer of thanks that I'm not a guy who would have to conceal an erection while fighting an ever-filling bladder. This viciously wonderful cycle continued until it was violently shattered by the woman before me turning around to gripe about the wait. Frustrated and slightly flustered, I composed myself and concurred with her complaints. We conversed casually (as well as I could as I fought to stay focused) until we finally reached the front of the line. By then I was fighting the urge to dance around in desperation. I knew I was shuffling around visibly and honestly, I didn't care. If I weren't already at the front of the line, I would've considered making my way back to the parking lot and relieving myself between some parked cars--chancing accidentally flashing any unfortunate passersby. Thankfully, however, the wait would soon be over. One of the porta potty doors swung open as a guy emerged and went to rejoin the festival. The woman in front of me nearly ran to claim the vacant latrine, as if someone would steal it away. When she opened the door, however, she nearly stumbled back as if she had been punched and her fervor quickly disappeared. She turned and made her way back to the line saying, "There's no way in hell I'm using that. I'll piss myself first!" I looked at her questioningly as she reclaimed her place in line, but seeing an opportunity to eliminate the urgent pleas of my bladder, I decided to investigate. As I opened the door, the smell washed over me like a wave. It wasn't really the typical stench of a porta potty. Of course, there was some of that, but it was mainly masked by the oppressive odor of concentrated urine. Examination quickly revealed the source. It looked as though some guy (or several) had "whipped it out" and let loose while spinning in circles and bouncing up and down! The warped and dented floor harbored small puddles of urine, the toilet seat was flooded, the half-used roll of toilet paper was sopping wet, and the walls were dripping! I shot a glance back to the lady, who gave me the classic "told-ya-so" look. I shrugged, mouthing the words, "I've gotta go" as the music in the background pulsed through the air. My bladder seemed to quiver with every beat of the drum as I entered the porta potty and the door slammed behind me. The lock seemed to be the only thing not dripping with pee. I slid it and shuffled from foot to foot as I began assessing my options. "There's no way in hell I'm using that", I mumbled the words of the lady as I looked at the toilet seat. I longingly considered the urinal, but figured I wouldn't be able to get close enough without planting a leg into some stranger's urine either on the wall or the raised platform of the toilet seat. Not one to give up easily, I disregarded the option to go wait for another latrine to open up. It's not like I practice peeing standing for nothing. I thought to myself. But how? I'm not risking taking off my shorts in here. If I brush them against the floor, I'll be wearing someone else's pee for the rest of the night! With that, I stood in front of the toilet seat and tested to see how far I could spread my legs. Not too bad if I can pee around my shorts. I considered dropping my shorts to my knees and giving it a shot, but I feared I'd dribble straight down. At that point, I would've been better off simply wetting myself. Hmm... I reached for the left leg of my shorts and pulled it aside. Perfect! They were just short and stretchy enough to clear my pubic mound. I readjusted to pull my panties aside, revealing my lady bits. It was almost like a DIY fly! I struggled a bit to adequately spread my labia while holding my shorts and panties clear of the line of fire. It was tough! I repositioned myself so I was standing as close to the toilet hole as possible without coming into contact with the raised area around it. I thrust my hips forward as far as reasonably possible and bent my knees slightly. Finally, I decided I was in a satisfactorily awkward stance (or just really had to pee) and muttered, "Well...here goes. Fire away." under my breath. It was almost instantaneous. A jet of pee shot out and noisily splattered the back of the toilet seat, dispelling a small mist. I adjusted slightly and managed to direct my stream into the toilet! I let out a long sigh as relief washed over me and the liquid below tinkled joyfully. I proudly looked down and cracked a huge smile as I admired the steady stream propelling from between my legs. I can't believe this is actually working! Several long, successful seconds passed, but I felt the fingers spreading my labia slowly slipping. I adjusted slightly, which skewed my aim. Urine splattered the side of the toilet seat and a small trickle began creeping down my left leg. I adjusted enough to stop the flow down my leg, but it was at the expense of the toilet seat. Again, my pee spattered loudly against the plastic as I frantically tried to aim. After I contributed a significant amount of my own bladder contents to the already-present flood of the seat, I managed to regain control. The tinkling of the fluid continued until I began to lose pressure. As the stream died, I began showering the front of the raised platform and adding to the puddles on the floor until the action came to a dribbling rest. The excitement of my (almost) success was overcome by the arousal it summoned. Still not fully cooled down from my fantasies while I was in line, I seized advantage of my current privacy. Pee still dripping from my vulva, I inserted my fingers and massaged myself tenderly, closing my eyes and surrendering myself to feeling. I was searching for satiety of my sensual desires, but every caress heightened each sensation. I suddenly felt as though I were ablaze--every nerve tingling and pulsing with the beat of my heart. Urine mixed with other fluids and my breathing grew shallow and rapid. My legs felt as though they would give way. I wished more than anything for reality to fade away, that I may melt into the pleasure, but the throbbing of the music wouldn't let me escape. Stymied--even resentful--I reopened my eyes to my unpleasant surroundings. I brushed as much of the urine from my vulva as I could, each contact pulsing with threats of stealing me away into a realm of pleasure. I briskly ran my hand down my leg, dispelling the few remnants of my poor aim. I felt tense. A thin sweat covered my skin. I would've done nearly anything to satisfy my carnal desires. Surrendering to the context of the occasion however, I replaced my panties and shorts, the fabric now feeling like sandpaper on my tender skin. I composed myself and braced to re-enter the real world. I finally reunited with my friends and we enjoyed the rest of the evening, though I remained secretly frustrated until I arrived home that night. You can be sure as heck I made up for the wait
  9. View File Unnamed woman messes bear diaper I am on a roll with this stuff. Found another decent female diaper mess video on youtube. Submitter cheese142 Submitted 05/06/2019 Category Diapers and ageplay
  10. A couple of favourite examples of this: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5adf97625bdaf https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5a157e06ddbe8 Anyone have any others? Please could someone grab a downloadable capture of these?
  11. I was just outside having a smoke on my front step, watching and listening to the neighbors talk and bustle around and the cars driving by, when I felt like I needed to pee. I was a bit shy at first, but suddenly, my horniness fully came over me, and before I knew it, I had my camera set up so it was showing my hiked up skirt and shaved pussy, and was pissing everything I'd saved up out right into the grass and onto the road! IMG_1873.m4v
  12. https://m.vk.com/video433425730_456239041 https://m.vk.com/video433425730_456239040 this is Cheshire. I just found her an i love these videos. The problem us that I can’t find anymore of her. If anyone has any more videos that they may have, id love that. These links are of messing primarily an i didnt know where to put these. The second link she does pee too.
  13. Hey everyone!! ...so this is probably the most embarrassing moment of my entire life up to now. Looking back, I'm not sure whether I should be crazy turned-on or too ashamed to ever show my face in public again . At the moment, I'm feeling the "crazy turned-on" half, so I figured I'd share it before I get cold feet again because, if nothing else, it at least makes for a fun story! Paragraph 4 is where the pee action happens if you're not interested in the build up! It recently snowed a fair amount where I live. I'm personally not much of one for the cold, but I love being active too much to let a perfectly good day off go to waste, so I decided to hit the local trails and get a few miles in. Figuring I needed to stay well-hydrated anyway, I decided to reward my mental fortitude of bearing the cold with a fun wetting. About 30 minutes before I headed out for my run, I started downing enough water to be well-hydrated, but not enough to feel bloated or overloaded. Then, I headed over to my room to pick out what I wanted to soak. My customary wet run gear is a dark skirt so I can discreetly let the pee run down my thighs or fall between my legs without anyone knowing. With it being below freezing, however, there was no way I was going out in that. Instead, I opt for some tights. As I was digging through my drawer, it dawned on me: Nobody around here goes out in the snow. The trails will be totally deserted. I can wet whatever I want and it'll be no big deal! I tossed aside my dark tights and dug up a pair of light gray ones that I've never run in because they show sweat too easily. I've always wanted to do a super-visible "public" wetting, but have never found an opportunity to do so without a virtual guarantee of being caught. I grinned mischievously as I put them on and admired how they hugged my butt and thighs. Then I threw on a sports bra, a purple sweatshirt, and a cute purple headband to keep my ears warm. I took a glance at my watch, drank a little more water, and headed out! The frosty air hugged my skin even tighter than my pants. I shivered as I dashed to my car, careful not to slip on any ice that may be lying in wait. Proud of myself for not face-planting in the parking lot, I fumbled my keys into the ignition and drove off. The roads were a little slick, but not terrible--just enough to ensure practically nobody was out, just as I hoped. Within 20 minutes, I was pulling up to the trails. I couldn't quite get my car up the hill to the parking lot, so I parked next to the road and made the rest of the trek on foot. My bladder was just beginning to become vocal. Again, the chill of the air nipped at my body maliciously, but I shrugged it off, knowing that I would soon have my body heat to keep me comfortable...along with a little something warm between my legs . I look around for signs of anyone else. There were no cars and no tracks. As far as I could see, it was totally deserted. I felt a surge of excitement, which kickstarted me into a run. I ran out for about a mile and a half and turned back because, by then, I needed to pee--badly. I wanted to wet in the snow, but I didn't want to be out long enough for the urine to become unbearably cold. The trails were slippery and, in some areas, fairly tough to locate even though I know them well. This made my progress slow. By the time I made it back to the edge of the woods, I was nearly bursting. For the last 100 meters, I had my hand vehemently shoved into my crotch, as if I could plug the inevitable torrent of fluid. I was dancing up and down, side-to-side more than I was making progress forward when I cleared the woods. Every step and every bounce sent spasms through my body. I half expected to start gushing pee from my ears! My body was begging for relief, but I made it wait just long enough to step off of the trail head into some undisturbed snow. At that moment, I relaxed my muscles and, within seconds, the full might of the Amazon river was bursting into my panties! I moaned loudly and euphorically as my panties instantly became saturated, giving way for warm pee to gush into my gray tights. Rapidly, the groin of my pants turned a dark, crystalline gray. The patch magnified effortlessly and branches of urine shot every which way, soaking my legs in warm ecstasy. I spread my legs a little, allowing that which didn't cascade across my thighs to dribble directly beneath me, creating a little hole of discolored snow. I could feel hot fluid creeping up my butt, down my legs, and into my shoes, thawing out my frozen feet. I looked down and saw the mess expanding beautifully and incredibly visibly. I shivered with chills, my body struggling to reconcile the sensation of my nether regions with the frigid barrage of the wind on my face. The feeling was nearly orgasmic. I wanted to reach into my panties as the urine gushed out and finger myself, covering my hand in dripping goodness, when suddenly, "Oh my gosh, ma'am! Are you alright?!" the voice of a middle-aged man cried out from nowhere. I was so startled, I would've wet myself if I weren't already doing exactly that! I felt my heart plummet from my chest, totally bypass my stomach, and likely burst out of my urethra with all the urine. My hair stood on end and I felt a surge of adrenaline. I tried to cover myself--to hide--anything--but there was no hiding this. I was completely soaked below my waist and, thanks to my brilliant idea to wear light gray tights, very visibly so. Even if I could miraculously cover all of that, there was a rapidly growing spot of slightly yellow snow beneath me. I jerked around quickly and saw him, trudging up from the trail quickly, a look of concern on his face. I have no idea where he came from. I had seen no tracks and hadn't heard a single soul for my entire run. Overwhelmed with shame, I burst into tears, my eyes now irrigating my face almost as much as my urethra was irrigating my pants. The tears quickly turned bitter and cold. "Are you okay?! Should I call an ambulance?!" He approached me in sympathetic disbelief, fully taking in the sight of a 24-year-old girl, peeing herself and sobbing uncontrollably. I was full-force in mid-stream. There was nothing I could do but continue spurting pee into my tights and let it cascade down my legs. My face was burning red beneath the icy tears. I had no idea what to say. I choked and fumbled over every word that tried to spill out of my mouth as I wet myself in front of this complete stranger--a man no less. My panties stuck to my lady bits, but no longer to my pleasure. I finally, in very fragmented speech, managed to spit out something along the lines of, "I'm--fi--fine. I'm sor--ry," and, overwhelmed with embarrassment, found the strength to dash away. I heard him yelling something after me, but I couldn't make it out over the sound of my sobbing. I managed to mostly clamp off the flow of urine as I made my escape, letting only a couple of spurts out before I got to my car. I quickly finished emptying myself into my pants by the road before I dug my towel out of the trunk and drove away. Miraculously, in my trembling and tear-blurred state, I made it home safely, though I can't recall any of the trip until I pulled into my apartment parking lot and made a dash to my door. I burst inside and ran to the shower, where I cleaned up, terrified, crying, and shaking. I swore to myself I would never do any omorashi again...but obviously that wasn't meant to last. After a day or two, when the shock and fear finally wore off (and I felt confident I could show my face in public without encountering him again), the omo desires began to return. With them, the shame of this experience turned into a confused hybrid of exhilaration and embarrassment. As time goes on, I still get a surge of adrenaline every time I remember this...and I'd be lying if I said it didn't make "petting the kitty" infinitely more satisfying. Despite the shame, finally getting caught was amazingly exciting!
  14. Last evening something happened that I am pretty sure will never happen again. I was strolling around in the city. I'd been having a lot of coca cola and was getting pretty desperate to pee. It felt nice but I wanted to intense that feeling, why I directed my steps to a café. Coffee would be what I needed to reach the final stage of desperation, I thought. It was a very cosy café. The interior decoration was kind of Laura Ashley inspired, and the chairs were very comfortable with thick, comfy cushions. I sat down at a round table in a corner. The tablecloth was quite generous; enough to cover my legs, which I appreciated as maybe there would be some wriggling and even holding. I ordered coffee and one Danish pastry. I'd just started to enjoy my coffee, when a voice made me to look up. It was a good-looking woman in her thirties: "Excuse me! I'm reporter at News at Town" (a fictitious name), "and I would like to make some questions about your café habits. If you attend cafés often, which you like most, how you want a café to be like and so on. I would really appreciate if you will have the kindness to answer them! May I sit down?" I was taken by surprise and couldn't find a reason to say no. But I did regret saying yes right after I'd said it. I mean, after all I was pretty - no, by now I was very - desperate. What if I had to hold myself? This could be thrilling! The journalist told her name was Barbro and asked for mine. Then she began her questions. She was a very nice woman and funny to talk to. When she'd finished her questions, we went on talking about all sorts of things. At first I didn't feel at all desperate. But after about twenty minutes I felt a sudden, strong twitch in my lower abdomen. And then the desperation began! I sneaked my right hand under the tablecloth, drew up my skirt and pressed my hand on my crotch. Barbro didn't notice anything. My desperation increased. I squeezed my thighs hard together. The twitches came faster and stronger. It was as they were knocking on the door, demanding me to release my pee! Knowing this wasn't the right time to wet myself, I tried as hard as I could to prevent an accident, which seemed to approach so inexorably fast. I rubbed my pussy forcefully, which quickly got me to the verge to come! Mustn't happen, I thought! If it did I would most certain lose the battle... Barbro gave me a quizzical look, when I suddenly gave away a moan. I felt my fingers getting wet. I'd had a strong spurt of pee in my panties, and it took all my strength to stop me from totally lose it. I pressed and rubbed harder, but had to stop doing so. If I'd continued, I would no doubt orgasm right there, in front of a journalist interviewing me! That would have been too embarrassing! Well, the alternative would also be embarrassing, as it would be me wetting myself in front of a journalist interviewing me! But as I couldn't possibly have an orgasm without her noticing it, I decided to let Nature have its course! Which Nature had the next moment! I completely lost it! My pee streamed through my panties, between my fingers and into the thick chair cushion, which silently absorbed my pee! I probably blushed and my breathing was a bit strained. Barbro asked if anything was wrong, but I denied it. While I was still wetting myself... It went on for ever and I was actually talking to her at the same time as I peed. I felt really weird, and I was so embarrassed! Finally she thanked me and said she enjoyed our talk. "Likewise", I answered and felt so relieved, when she left. I hoped she didn't thought I was unpolite, as I didnt rise to say goodbye... Then I sat there for about ten minutes, thinking of what to do. I've peed litres into the chair cushion and some had come onto the carpet too. I know, I had to tell the waitress about my accident. But it wasn't an easy step to take; it would be so embarrassing, so very humiliating to confess that I've been wetting myself like a baby. At the same time the feelings of embarrassment and humiliation made me really aroused! I couldn't help myself from touching my pussy, and before I even knew what I was doing, I was eagerly caressing my pussy upon my soaked panties! I reached an overwhelming orgasm within a couple of minutes and I had to bit my lips to avoid screaming! And before I left the café, I told the waitress that I'd had a wetting accident. I told her that I absolutely wanted to pay for the damages and left my name, address and mobile number. She was very sweet and said that accidents happen! As I was talking to her, pee drops still ran down my legs. To confess my accident to the waitress was one of the most humiliating moments of my life!
  15. Hi everyone. I thought I'd share a true story I found online with everyone. Jeffco Sheriff blotter e-mail to a friend | print this | link to this Contributed by: YourHub.com on 8/15/2007 A Jefferson County Sheriff's deputy saw a silver Volkswagen Beetle driving east on West Bowles Avenue that did not have a working license plate lamp at about 2:36 a.m. Aug. 4. According to reports, the deputy suspected the female driver of the car had been drinking. The driver failed a roadside test and was taken to the Arapahoe County jail, according to reports. On the way to the jail, the woman told the deputy she needed to go to the bathroom, according to reports. The deputy told the woman she could go to the bathroom when the reached the jail, deputies said. When the deputy and the woman arrived at the jail there was already a man in the holding cell with the only available toilet, according to reports. The deputy told the woman she would have to wait to use the bathroom until after the booking process was complete, about 20 minutes, according to reports.About 15 minutes later, the woman told the deputy she desperately needed to go to the bathroom or she would be forced to urinate in her pants, deputies said. The deputy explained she would still need to wait 5 to 10 minutes more if she wanted to use a bathroom and that if that if she needed to urinate while wearing her clothes, she should. The woman proceeded to urinate in her pants and was booked on suspicion of DUI and suspicion of driving a defective vehicle.
  16. Three young ladies wetting their panties Submitted by: Cathyva Submission Date: : 05 Nov 2012 Category: Videos / Movies / Clips (Female) Clothing: Unspecified Wetting Type: Unspecified Wetting Scenario: Unspecified Three young ladies, dressed in old-fashion garters and stockings, indulge in different sensuous acts and ultimately wetting their panties, Click here to download this file
  17. Heyy everyone!! This one is probably a lot tamer than most of my recent posts. I've been caught in a dreadful conflict: On one hand, I urgently desire to do more daring pee adventures again. On the other, getting caught last time has left me mortified. Lately, I've been doing my pee stuff exclusively in the privacy of my apartment, such as peeing in sinks, attempting to use bottles (thus far, with immense disaster! haha ), and similar things. While these have been fun, none of them quite scratch that itch, ya know? This afternoon/evening, I had one of my guy friends over, which was nice, but I was feeling suuuuper horny because I hadn't given any special attention "down there," nor had I indulged in any pee fantasies for longer than I generally like. In the name of not compromising our friendship (or at least avoiding the awkwardness), I couldn't exactly wet in front of him, so I initially resigned myself strictly to holding. Shortly before he arrived, I took a quick leak in the bathroom sink to hold me over for the afternoon . I rinsed down the pee, washed my hands, and downed a full glass of water...thus the wait began. I answered the door, let him in, and offered him a drink. We both indulged. He drank a glass of tea. I drank a glass and a half of water. At that point, I didn't have any real urge to pee, but I was eager for it to start. After about 40 minutes of hanging out, it did. It was mild at first and I pushed it to the back of my mind. It didn't take long, however, for the modest trickle into my bladder to suddenly feel like a raging torrent, my kidneys working double time. Not 10 minutes had passed before I arrived at the point I would normally excuse myself to the restroom. I maintained my composure, resisting the urge to fidget, and smiling a little brighter because of my secret. Another 5 minutes, and it was on the threshold of becoming urgent. I started squirming in in my seat, hoping my naturally-energetic disposition could hide the fact I was virtually dancing with desperation. As the seconds ticked by, I started getting more distracted from our conversation--and thankful we were at the kitchen table so I could discreetly hold myself...which I was doing with ever-increasing vigor. Simultaneously, however, I was beginning to grow almost frustrated. I strongly prefer to pee/wet in unconventional/exciting places, which often involves holding, but holding simply for the sake of holding doesn't do much for me. Finally, I couldn't take it any longer. I knew if I didn't call it quits and make a mad dash to the toilet then, I would end up with that awkward encounter I was hoping to avoid. I wasn't quite sure how I was going to pull it off. It felt as if I'd bust open and gush warm fluid everywhere if I so much as moved a single finger from my lady bits, where they were firmly planted. Screw it! I thought, We can laugh off my desperation. Wetting will be a lot harder to explain. Just as I was about to leap up and announce how urgently I needed to relieve myself and make a crazy sprint to the facilities, hand very visibly and firmly thrust into the crotch of my yoga pants, he stood up and said, "Hey, I'll be right back." NO! I wanted to scream, knowing full well he was headed for the bathroom I so desperately needed. Instead, I managed a half-hearted smile and began cursing profusely in my mind, urgently scanning the room for other options. As he turned away from the table, I began bouncing up and down and quivering, shamelessly holding myself, praying he wouldn't notice. He didn't. As I heard his footsteps growing fainter as he traipsed down the hall, I considered my options. Going outside would very seriously risk detection from a neighbor. The sink was a possibility, but with how badly I needed to go and how thin my walls are, I feared he would be able to hear my torrent barraging the metal, not to mention, if he happened out before I finished, explaining why my naked butt was up there would've been quite a challenge. As I heard him gently close the bathroom door behind him, I bolted up for the only option I saw, speeding across the room, barely able to move my legs, with my hand practically inside of me in attempt to plug my urethra, in what was probably the most awkward run ever. I removed my hand from my crotch long enough to rip my pants and panties down, scared to death I was going to leak all over the floor. Miraculously, I didn't. I flipped around fast enough to make my head spin, and hunched over, nearly sitting with my butt wedged between the leaves of the large potted plant I keep in the kitchen. Of all the places I've peed in my apartment, this was a first for the plant. My dissatisfaction in simply holding quickly bloomed into immense excitement as the first shot of pee ruptured from my nether region, pattered against the leaves, and cascaded into the soil, quickly pooling violently. I shut my eyes and breathed a silent, but immense sigh as my bladder began to find relief. Shortly after, I heard his pee begin tinkling into the toilet in the other room, heightening the experience. I hovered there, my rear shrouded by the fern, pee spitting out fervently, chills and excitement sending tremors through my frame. I was urinating so heavily that the soil couldn't soak it in quickly enough and the tinkling of fluid became audible. I quickly shifted my stance, successfully avoiding any spills. I grinned to myself ridiculously...until I heard him stop peeing. I felt like I was going to be there forever and I couldn't let him find me like this. I tried pushing harder, but I was already nearly going at full force. Then I heard the toilet flush. Then the sink turn on. I was getting pretty close, but I was afraid I wouldn't quite have enough time to finish, clean up, and--shoot. I began cursing under my breath as adrenaline shot through my body. I didn't bring anything to wipe with. The sink stopped and I was still trickling. I needed to think of something immediately. I awkwardly bent over while I was peeing and managed to reach my phone in my pocket. I suspected I may have shot a little pee out of the pot, but I didn't have time to check. As I heard him open the door, I frantically tried to reach my messenger app. Hallelujah. My chat with him was already open. Trembling, I shot him a text that simply said, "No," the only thing that came to mind, probably because I was thinking no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no... I finally shot off the last few spurts of pee as I heard his phone ping and his footsteps stop. I resigned myself to wet panties, yanked my clothes up, and patted myself dry through my clothes as I heard him say, "Why did you send me, 'No'?" "What?" I said, my voice quivering. "Oh," A fake laugh, "I must've sent that to the wrong person." I quietly leapt to the sink and began washing my hands, sighing with relief that my long-shot plan worked. As he walked back into the room, I shot a quick glance back where I was just peeing. There was a visible wet spot in the dirt and some of the leaves were wet, but I didn't see any drops from when I thought I missed, and it wasn't particularly noticeable, overall. The only problem now was how badly I wanted to pleasure myself. I may or may not have played a little "down there" with my fingers once we resumed our places back at the table .
  18. This is probably an ignorant question, a fact for which I apologize, but I'm genuinely curious: Ladies, how do you manage to pee when you're wearing a dress? I'm assuming that, outside of omo-related circles, wetting isn't a particularly conventional solution.
  19. Got another wetting tale for you all!! This was yesterday's adventure. If you want to skip over the buildup/background and get straight to the wetting, I suggest jumping to paragraph 4! It was one of those days. You all know them. The clouds heavily loomed overhead, weighing down the sky, the grayness weighing down everyone's mood. To make matters worse, the October chill was hanging in the air. It was a mediocre day at work, everyone's demeanor as drab as the day. When I pulled into my apartment at the end of the day, I wanted some excitement to get my spirits up and my heart pounding. My last pee-related excursion outside of the four walls that confine my apartment was my trek into the men's room just over a week ago. I was long overdue. At roughly 5:30PM, it was still too early to attempt another dash into the men's room (I'm not bold enough just yet to try it in daylight), and I didn't feel like waiting until nightfall to get my fun in. I dragged myself out of my work clothes and looked through my closet for something a bit more appropriate for some incognito public wetting...something I hadn't yet checked off of my list. Sure, I've peed while running, wet my bikini at the beach, done the classic duck behind a bush to relieve myself, and even almost gotten caught by a group of guys while watering a parking garage floor (a story for another time, perhaps? ), but I'd never done any real, totally intentional, good ol' classic panty-wetting while walking around town. What better time to give it a shot than when everything's already wet? I could have as much fun as I wanted and nobody would have a clue! I slipped into a nice, warm, gray sweater and pulled a totally weather-inappropriate black skirt over a pair of cheap pink panties, and I was all set! Though I, very intentionally, hadn't urinated for the last few hours at work, I downed a few glasses of water for good measure and grabbed a bottle for the road. I glanced out the window--only a very light drizzle. Perfect. I left my umbrella where it lay in my closet and stepped out into the chilly air. The cool air nipped at my legs, giving me goosebumps, but I smiled to myself, knowing that I would soon have the means to warm them back up. I decided to make my way to some nearby shops to peruse any new holiday decorations they had on display. It was surprisingly crowded in town for such a dismal day, a prospect that made me tingle with excitement and nervousness. On occasion, I would stop at a store window and look in. I could feel myself shaking. No matter how many times I pee myself or experiment in some way with my urine, every new endeavor is practically like my first time, sending jolts of adrenaline through me and turning my stomach inside out. The thrill was building, but the urge to relieve myself was developing more slowly than I anticipated. Figuring I must be less hydrated than I initially thought, I nursed on my bottle. Some time went by. It was pushing 6:20 by the time my bladder alerted me to my need to seek out the facilities, a need that was joyously denied. The drizzle was long finished by now, my brunette hair made sleek by a only faint layer of moisture. I smiled at people as I passed them on the sidewalk, wondering what they would do if they knew the woman sweetly greeting them was about to pee all over herself in the middle of a relatively busy street. 6:30; the urge was growing rapidly now, as was the gnawing of hunger in my stomach. It just so happened that, as an idea flourished in my mind, these two primal urges coincided wonderfully. I found a truck vendor selling burritos and decided to kill two birds with one stone. Why not wet myself while ordering my meal? A smirk snuck across my face as soon as the thought flashed through my mind--talking to some totally oblivious cashier with a trickle down my leg, soaking my legs and filling my shoes with warm splendor. A surge of energy shot through me, electrifying my nerves, kicking my heart into overdrive. I made my way over to the truck, my heart pounding in my throat, and took my place in line, taking note of all the people around and questioning if I should follow through. "What's the worst that can happen?" I thought to myself, "Everything is already thoroughly drenched and besides, my legs could use a little extra warmth." I waited for my turn and, at last, made my way to the window, trying to hide my trembling (and, at this point, reasonably-strong urge to empty the contents of my bladder). As I was talking to the cashier, I began pushing. The muscles refused to cooperate. It was as if I had forgotten how to pee! He said something to me, but I missed it, obviously distracted. "Ma'am?" He questioned. "I'm sorry," my attention snapped back to him, though I maintained some focus on getting the gears moving downstairs. He repeated his question and I answered, my panties still bone-dry, but my bladder urging me to let go. He stepped away for a minute, presumably to get my order ready. I kept at it, trying to release the fluid. As he came back to take my money, the first spurts of warm urine finally burst through, albeit briefly, instantly soaking into my panties. I cracked a smile at this feat, and realizing I probably looked mental just smiling to myself, tried to play it cool like I was smiling at him. With a bit more effort as I reached into my purse to get the money, I managed to release a bit more, most of it still caught in my panties. The warm, wet, fabric stuck enticingly to my vulva. I handed him a couple of bills, my hands visibly shaking. He looked at me, concerned, and asked, "Are you alright, ma'am?" I assured him everything was fine as my spurts, at last, broke into a stream. The flood exited around the crotch of my panties as the warmth spread slightly up my butt. I heard a faint pattering between my legs from some stray pee that had fallen from the center of my crotch. I quickly jolted my legs together, directing all of the pee down my thighs. I nervously looked around to see if anyone had noticed. If they had, they pretended not to--most everyone with their eyes glued to their phones. I could feel my face turning red hot as cascades of pee delivered life-giving warmth back to my chilly legs, finally and soaking into my socks. He handed me my change and bid me a good evening, a courtesy I returned as I turned away, my liquid leg warmers still at work. My shoes now squished with every step, drawing no attention, under the guise that I must've stepped into a puddle. A few seconds later, as I unwrapped my burrito and took my first bites, the warm trickle from my urethra concluded at last. I glanced down nonchalantly, my face still burning ferociously, even warmer than the wet, tingly, lady bits that lay beneath my skirt. My legs were very obviously wet, but on a day like today, I figured nobody would second guess it. This still didn't stop my heart from pounding relentlessly. I walked around a bit as I ate, the warmth of the pee that covered my legs sapping away into the cool evening air. I spilled bits of my burrito in between drinks of water as I traipsed around a bit more. Finally, even my crotch matched the damp chill of the air. Not to fret, however, for by 7:00, my water consumption paid off and I was ready to go again! I turned and made my way toward home, excitement still rushing through me as I replayed the puzzled look on the vendor's face, his oblivious nature as I casually peed all over my own legs right in front of him and even a line of other people!! The thrill of such a taboo action, but everybody in complete ignorance! As I walked past the last few shops on the street, I looked at the people around me, smiling, and began pushing again. Like before, it took effort (I guess after a lifetime of conditioning, it's not particularly easy to pee yourself in front of total strangers), but it came a bit more easily this time. I nodded a cheerful greeting to a couple I passed as that familiar warmth flooded my panties yet again, overflowing and making its way downward. I shook with a chill as the pee spread across my legs yet again, some of it spattering onto the ground, indistinguishable, to the uninformed eye, from my splashing steps. Here came that shot of adrenaline again. I almost wanted to jump for joy, and likely would have if it wouldn't have entailed showering my pee all over everything and drawing unnecessary attention to myself. Inversely correlated with the level of fluid in my bladder, my level of excitement, if you get what I mean, increased as pee jet into my panties. I wanted so badly to rub myself right there as I leaked, but refrained. Again, the last few drops came to a sputtering end, the warm wetness clinging to my legs and, more pleasurably, my nether region . At last, as I arrived at the doorstep of my apartment, my legs, crotch, and butt were quite cold, heightening the sexual sensations as they glistened with moisture. I hurriedly burst through my door, stripped out of my wet clothes, and made my way to a warm shower, reiterating the events of the evening over and over in my head. You can be sure as heck I gave some special attention to my tingling anatomy as a reward for a fantastic close to an otherwise dreary day. Finally, before shutting off the water, I had just enough pee to complete my newly-customary attempt to pee standing during every shower (and admittedly, sometimes when I'm just bored and not showering ). It was a moderate success, though still not quite enough of one to attempt the toilet just yet. Hope you all enjoyed reading about this thrilling experience! Until I finally manage to use a urinal, it's going to be challenging to find an experience that parallels this!
  20. Hey everyone!! Not too long ago, I wrote a post asking how I might gain access to the men's room, that I might scout it out and, some day, maybe attempt to use a urinal. I finally bit the bullet and, while I haven't yet tried the urinal, I did explore a men's room and even did some...unorthodox...peeing!! The day after I wrote the post referred to above, I began looking around for some viable bathrooms for my adventure. I am still too timid to sneak into an interior restroom, so I primarily narrowed it down to gas stations and parks. Unfortunately, it seems like most of the parks in my area lock up in the evening. The gas stations, however, do not. I found one such station not too far from my apartment that has exterior single-occupancy bathrooms. Immediately, I knew this would be my first target. Last night, I finally worked up the gumption and committed myself. Around 11:30PM, I began chugging tons of water, figuring that if I'm going to explore the men's room, I'm going to empty my bladder in there one way or another. In case something came up where I needed to dispel my urine stores quickly, discretely, and cleanly, I swapped out of my jeans into a cute skirt and forewent the panties. Around midnight to 12:15, I could feel the urge approaching. Excited, albeit a bit nervous, I jumped into my car and sped off. Within minutes, I pulled into the gas station parking lot, the pressure steadily increasing, though still not urgent. It occurred to me that it might be a bit strange to drive up, enter the wrong bathroom, and then speed off into the night, so I parked and waited for the song on the radio to end (Sweet Child O' Mine, anyone? ). Once it concluded, I entered the gas station store and paced around inconspicuously. I meandered to the back of the store and perused their drink selection. I wasn't yet bursting, but, under normal circumstances, I definitely would've gone to relieve myself. I glanced at my watch...12:35. I grabbed a bottle of water because, hey, if you're going to commit, why not jump in with both feet? I took the bottle to the guy at the register, trying not to fidget too much. He was in the middle of something, so it took him a minute to respond. As the seconds passed, tick by tick, I felt my bladder filling, drip by drip. As I began to wonder if he noticed me standing there, he finally looked up and asked if I were ready to check out. I set aside my urge to make a sarcastic remark in the name of getting out quickly. With a yawn, he handed me my bottle of water. By then, I was shuffling uncomfortably from foot to foot. I don't think he noticed. I briefly fantasized about the possibility of letting loose right there in front of him and how he might respond. A grown woman peeing all over herself right in front of him, forming a giant pool right in the middle of the gas station. I smirked and went with my better judgment to not go that far. As I made my way to the door, I groped myself briefly. I was desperate now. I glanced at my watch 12:45. I progressed to my car and sat on the hood, facing away from the station and road so I could chug my water and hold myself without attracting attention. I only downed about a quarter of the bottle. I couldn't bring myself to drink any more as I sat there, dancing in place, about to pee all over the parking lot. "Okay, now!" I thought to myself. I rose and walked around the side of the station. "Good," I muttered under my breath, "The coast is clear." My pace quickened, as did my heart rate, as I approached the restrooms. I wasn't even trying to hide that my hand was firmly planted between my legs. I stopped between the doors for the men's room and the women's room. I looked at them both, my heart pounding, each pulse an insult to my urinary tract. Looking back, I probably would've chickened out, but between the urgency to urinate clouding my mind, and the knowledge that I'd never make it home without wetting in my car, I finally bolted for the door of the men's room. I pounded it open, the light flicking on as the door swung. I immediately slammed the door behind me and locked it. Isolated at last. I broke into a huge smile as my eyes fell onto the urinal before me, but the smile dissipated slightly when I recognized the state of the bathroom. It was utterly filthy. Are all men's rooms like this? There was what I presumed to be pee all over the floor and lip of the urinal (which probably would've turned me on if I weren't in such an agonizing need to add my own). I knew I wasn't ready to try a urinal (my experiments in the shower revealed I need significant training), so, shaking from both excitement and desperation, I rushed over to the seated toilet, my feet splashing gently in the cold fluid on the floor. With one look at the seat, however, I knew it wasn't going to be an option. To any guys reading this, honestly, is it common practice to just pee wherever you want in the bathroom? It appeared as though the last gent didn't even aim. I doubled over in desperation, nearly letting out a spurt. "Okay," I thought, "The toilet's not an option. The urinal's not an option. I'm not even going to look at the trash can. That leaves the floor." I urgently raised my skirt and nearly released when my eyes fell onto a different option...the sink. I giggled like a little girl and dashed over to it. It's sunken into a counter, so I clamored on top, careful not to bump my abdomen on the way. I had barely positioned my lower half over it and raised up my skirt when I finally succumbed to the desperate pleas of my bladder. Almost instantaneously, a warm jet of clear urine spat from between my labia. Pee splattered violently into the basin of the sink as a wave of relief rushed over me, sending chills throughout my entire body. Goosebumps emerged on my arms and I laughed with delight as I looked over at the urinal beside me. "Unbelievable," I thought. I hovered my butt over that sink for what felt like forever, pee jetting out relentlessly. I glanced up at the mirror in front of me and howled with laughter at the ridiculous sight of myself. I had a full view of everything, the pee glistening as it shot out from my lady bits. Finally, the last few trickles came to a halt. I glanced up at the mirror again, briefly savoring the comical (and honestly, pride-inducing) sight. Then I realized that, in my frenzy, I neglected to acquire toilet paper. I let myself down from the counter and hobbled over to the TP dispenser, this time, a bit more careful to avoid the puddles on the floor. I grabbed a wad and wiped, letting my hand linger a bit longer than necessary, giving some attention to the tingling feminine anatomy below. I threw my used toilet paper into the trash can and washed my hands, grinning at myself in the mirror. I opened the door cautiously, looking to see if anyone was lingering around. Clear. I made a dash to my car and drove home, celebrating my first adventure into the men's room!! My next goal is to master standing to pee in the shower!! [Penis envy intensifies]
  21. Heyyy everyone!! Got another story for ya! This one's pretty long, but it's a 2-for-1! If you want to skip the build up and get straight to the pee, go to paragraph 5 for the first part and paragraph 7 for the second. Hope you enjoy!! Earlier this week, I went out of town for an event. It wasn't far enough to justify the cost of flying, but with a 8-hour drive one way, it was plenty far enough to enjoy some pee fun along the way! I made it to the event without incident, but the same can't quite be said for the return . Needless to say, after the drive there and the event itself, I was pretty toasted by the end of the day, so I checked into a motel and stayed the night. I'm not much of a morning person, so I figured, with a day off from work and some time in a fresh city, what's the rush? I slept in and enjoyed some time around town before I dragged myself back to the car at about 4PM. Both for health purposes and the obvious pleasures that coincide, I try to keep pretty thoroughly hydrated throughout the day. Today was no exception. I had run by a gas station during my excursion downtown and filled one of those "Big Gulp" cups to the rim with water and had been nursing it throughout the day. I knew I'd have to stop a few times on my way back, but that didn't bother me too much. I made a quick preemptive run to the bathroom and, with all of my things packed into the back seat and my "Big Gulp" cup by my side, I set off for the long journey home. One thing I didn't account for: Rush hour. I'm not accustomed to taking days off in the middle of the week, and rush hour isn't a huge deal where I live, so it didn't even occur to me to consider other people's commutes home. An hour in, and I was totally gridlocked on the highway. Brilliant. To make matters worse (or better? I guess it depends on your perspective ), I was gradually becoming aware of my increasing need to urinate. I wasn't about to explode just yet, but I knew I needed to find a solution--and quickly. I glanced around nervously. Moving wasn't realistic at this point, let alone getting to an exit and finding a place to relieve myself. I comforted myself with delusions that this traffic jam may clear up any time and that, if I just managed to distract myself, I'd be fine. I cranked up my radio and began singing along with it. Boston, anyone? I was going to be okay. I glanced over to the car next to me and saw the driver chuckling at me singing to myself. I grinned at her and carried on, knowing I needed to distract myself. The problem here being that, by focusing on my need to distract myself, I emphasized my growing need to pee that much more. "It's okay," I told myself, "You don't need to go that badly just yet." Another 20 minutes passed and we'd barely made any headway. Every time we crept forward, my heart would leap, only to tumble back down into my depths of my stomach when we stopped again. It seemed, according to the radio, there was a minor accident ahead that was slowing things down even more. Little did they know, there was a serious possibility of a different kind of accident occurring between my legs. By now I'd abandoned any hope of distracting myself. I was swaying back and forth and fidgeting, the urge to pee feeling pretty severe by now. I was frantically looking around for solutions. Sure, I could just wet myself in my car, but as much as I love my fetish, I love the condition of my car more. With that possibility ruled out, there wasn't much left. I was foolish enough to wear jeans today instead of a skirt, meaning that if I stepped out of my car, any wetting would be blatantly obvious to all who sat idly around me. Similarly, I couldn't exactly bare my lady bits for all of the commuters to watch cascades of urine gush from them. That left one option. My eyes fell onto my "Big Gulp" cup as my hand found its way to my crotch. I didn't like the idea of attempting this in my car, but I had no other option. I took my hand from my crotch and grasp the cup. Shoot. It still had a little water. I briefly considered chucking the water out the window, but wanted to hold off in case I needed to dispose of my pee without suspicion. Nothing else to do, I chugged the last little bit. By now, it was urgent. I bobbed back and forth as I undid my seatbelt. I quickly glanced around to ensure there were no tractor trailers or other tall vehicles around me--as badly as I had to go, I wasn't about to give a free show (not that I really had a choice, looking back now). Hallelujah. Only sedans surrounded me. I hurriedly undid my jeans and tried to discreetly pull them down. This was going to be a challenge. Maybe if I removed my shoes? Just then, the woman behind me honked. I jumped, startled, nearly peeing myself right then. We had gained a whopping 10 feet. I pulled up behind the car in front of me and set the hand brake. My hand firmly in place upon my nether regions, I frantically took off my shoes and tossed them into the passenger seat. Next, the jeans came off, revealing my blue panties. I seriously hoped nobody could see what I was doing, but I didn't care enough at the time to check. With every second that passed by, my bladder ballooned that much more, threatening to soil my car. Next came the panties, revealing my bare downstairs for anyone who happened to have a tall enough ride. I grabbed the cup and tried to position it. How exactly was I going to manage this? The steering wheel was proving problematic. What I would've given at this moment to have a penis. In my frustration, I glanced up to make sure the traffic hadn't moved. Thankfully, it was stationary. I looked back down at my predicament. "Okay," I muttered, "Let's try this." I slid forward a bit, getting my butt off of the seat, and pressing my abdomen against the steering wheel. "This is gonna have to work." I said at last. I positioned the cup beneath where I hoped my urethra would spill, and let loose. Within about a second, the floodgates had burst open and a rush of pee shot (thankfully) straight into the cup, pattering loudly as it accumulated at the bottom. "Oh my gosh," I exclaimed with relief as the cup grew heavier with my pee. It was a really bizarre sensation to be sitting there, surrounded by so many people, peeing into a cup, of all things, in my car. I closed my eyes and put my head back as the spurt continued below. After a moment, the cup was getting heavy enough that I had to grab the bottom of it with my free hand. It felt warm and enticing in my grip. I smiled as the last few dribbles emerged and found their way to the steamy pool below. It was then I remembered I was still supposed to be driving. I glanced up nervously. Thankfully, the traffic still hadn't budged. Unfortunately, I hadn't thought ahead to the toilet paper predicament. Fortunately, I wore panties that day and could let them sop up what remained. I cautiously placed the cup back into its holder and admired my handywork as I pulled my panties up and dabbed myself dry. There was still quite a bit of space in the cup, but the pee was pretty clear, meaning I could probably dispose of it without too much suspicion, should the need arise. I nervously glanced outside my car again, but thankfully everyone was totally oblivious, playing on their phones or fidgeting around with papers. I didn't bother putting my jeans back on, figuring I'd need to pee again before getting out of this mess of traffic. Instead, I covered my lap with them, obscuring my nearly-nude lower half in case any tall vehicles passed me. It turned out this was a wise move, as I had to use the cup several times again before getting out of that jam. Thankfully, I only needed to dump it out my window once. After tacking about 2 hours onto my drive, I finally managed to get out of that traffic fiasco (lesson learned for future trip planning). Much of the rest of the trip was fairly uneventful. Despite the fond feelings I have developed for it by then, I disposed of my cup at my next stop. All of my efforts to relieve myself were done at gas stations and rest stops from that point forward, but my last one was particularly notable. It was 1AM. I was about an hour from home and nobody was on the road. I had enough pee that I could go, but it wasn't super urgent. Regardless, by this point I was excited about my pee endeavors of the day, but totally mind-numbed and frazzled from the drive. I was exhausted, so when I saw a rest stop by the side of the road, I took the opportunity. I wanted to do something naughty--anything. It was deserted and it didn't seem like anyone would be making any surprise visits...soooo...why not pop into the men's room and give it a go? I did a quick walk around the stop to make sure there wasn't anybody who I might've overlooked. The coast was clear. I made my way to the door and stood outside. This would be my first time using a multi-occupancy men's room and, even though I knew the probability of someone walking in on me was next to naught, I still felt a jolt of adrenaline. My heart surged as I pushed open the door. The light flicked on and revealed several urinals and several stalls, opposing a row of sinks. It was cleaner than I was anticipating, especially compared to the single-occupancy men's room I've used at a gas station near my home. I felt a sense of urgency, not to pee, but to hurry, just in case anybody happened upon me. My heart pounded in my chest as I considered where I would pee. I could use a stall in any old bathroom, so I didn't want to do that. I'm still not confident enough in my skills to attempt a urinal (someday). I scanned the room before me, with my eyes ultimately landing on a floor drain in the middle of the bathroom. Perfect. I quickly fumbled to get my lower clothing off, taking care not to step onto the floor with my socks (I shudder to think of what bacterial horrors lie there). I shuddered with excitement as I set my clothes onto the paper towel dispenser and made my way, butt-naked, to the floor drain. I squatted over it and noted that I was trembling as I attempted to position myself (funny how such a simple thing can cause such excitement!!). Finally, I let 'er rip! Here I was, squatting right in front of a bunch of urinals, leaking my bladder into a floor drain. I giggled with delight and tried, with no success, to calm down my trembling. I felt a cool spatter bouncing back from the drain cover and showering my thighs. I adjusted to alleviate this, missing the drain a bit in the process, sending a bit of pee spurting outward and forming a small puddle on the floor. Unfortunately, the last little bit came to a dribbly end far too soon. I stood up to grab some toilet paper and laughed when I caught a glance of myself in the mirror, my naked vulva dripping with pee, contrasting the men's toilets in the background. I'm not gonna lie, I felt a small and strange sense of pride for being there (girl power?). I retrieved the toilet paper, wiped myself clean, including my thighs, and stood once more before the mirror. I knew I should be quick, but I wanted to savor the image just a bit longer (really mature, I know). I fiddled with myself very briefly for good measure, then put my clothes on and washed up. Drunk with triumphant delirium, I pointed at the urinals as I left and proclaimed, "Soon!" I left the bathroom, looking back at the "Men" sign on my way out. The cool evening breeze hugged me as I trod back to my car. Despite being very tired by that point, the excitement carried me the rest of the way home.
  22. An odd request from SpectorIncognito250 of his character Nurse Erin from his story "A Nurse's Accident."
  23. hi ! i'm searching for some videos of people tickling then peeing their pants videos. if anyone has some please post them btw i want girls to be peeing
  24. So this video is one of those bladder control jokes videos, but this one is different. In the lady deliberately wets herself as a part of the joke. This one is quite great. Though, she is middle aged, you don't mind. wetting.mp4
  25. This one is a little more...shy then the others. I had to drop something off at the post office after work. I also knew I had to GO. Could I, dare I, see if an accident can happen?! I think by now y'all know the answer is a resounding " yes!" There is a giant gym there and it was late rush hour so there were so many bros in their Beemers coming and going. Not trying to be coy but was feeling a lil less sure of myself this day. Most of the traffic was behind MY car so I keep hiding behind this tree, intimidated. The hot golden piss was running down my leg before I even got out of my car and then I froze and then it started GUSHING. My sandals had suede cushioned footbeds and with each step I was pushing more pee out of the sides of my sandals, barely able to keep them on, the most amazing sloshy slurpy sound. And this song is my theme song. I found my bf with this song ( long story/mixed blessing?) and well, it keeps me from going insane InShot_20210821_164714918.mp4
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