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Wetting while walking to the beach


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So I went for a walk to the beach yesterday afternoon. It's a quick walk of only ten minutes from my house down 2 back streets and through a normally nearly deserted car park and over a hill. 

I needed to pee before I left, although not urgently, and as I'd been drinking beer, I knew I'd be able to wet myself quite easily once I got there. I chose to wear my "pee undies." These are blue camouflage pattern with a thicker white inner lining. I pee in these every day to some extent, and let them air dry, and as of yesterday I had wet them well over 20 times without washing them. The entire front and crotch are stained a yellow colour, and they were still wet from my morning wetting where I stood outside in the garden and flooded them.  These went under a pair of black, high cut nylon/polyester  running shorts with a supportive inner mesh netting. The shorts are a very faded black, and although they're not absorbent, they show off wetness quite distinctly. 

My still very damp underpants clung tightly to my balls as the mesh support of my shorts pressed against me firmly, as I gathered another couple of beers into a cooler bag and grabbed a towel, hurrying to get out of the house before my wife or kids would notice the distinct pee smell that followed me due to my continuously peed in but unwashed briefs that were still wet. 

I opened a beer and headed off, my body heat quickly warming up my wet undies, and giving me a secret thrill of walking down a public street knowing that I'd wet myself, and enjoying not only the physical feeling, but the naughtiness of it as well. Because the mesh contains everything down there, I knew from past experiences that no wet spot would show on the faded black vinyl unless I squeezed myself or really pressed on it, or of course wet again, which I planned to do all of during my walk. 

Not much here for the desperation fans I'm afraid. I needed to pee, although not badly, and I was in full control, although having even a slight need whilst wearing wet pants certainly increases the feeling of necessity. I made it down the 2 quiet side streets, and into the car park without seeing a single person walking anywhere, although there where a lot of people enjoying the nice day out in their gardens. 

Once I got to the top of the car park, and found it empty, I allowed myself to grab my dick through the vinyl material and squeeze it firmly, and could feel moisture wicking underneath my hand. I slid into a "pretend desperation " mode, and squashed my thighs together tightly and bounced up and down a bit, pretending to be more desperate than what I really was. 

I walked through the empty car park, continuously grabbing and squeezing my shorts, and basically over exaggerating my need, but I waited until I was out the other side, and walking up the hill towards the main path, before I stopped and examined my shorts for visible damage, finding a wet spot the size of a golf ball standing out very openly. Now I was noticeably wet, it added to the thrill of it all, and I held my cooler bag in front of myself to hide the unmistakable wet patch.

By now, being half drunk, and still having my bladder continuing to fill up thanks to the beer I'd been drinking over the last few hours, and the feeling of wetness pressing against me, my urgency kicked up a notch, and although I wasn't in any danger of accidentally losing control, by now I genuinely needed to pee sooner rather than later. 

I walked up the path, and turned onto the sandy track that leads to the beach itself. This track goes upwards for a bit, hits the top of the dune, bends right, and goes down to the sand. It's the most private and hidden spot of the walk, but also the most dangerous one for being caught, as you can't see or hear anyone who might be approaching from the beach itself. I've been "caught" there before walking along in wet shorts when someone appeared suddenly in front of me, but I was lucky or quick enough to hold my towel in front of me to hide it. 

I decided to let a bit out. I spread my legs a bit wider, and held myself through my shorts while pointing myself down. Relaxing my bladder, it only took a couple of seconds for me to start peeing, and I felt the wonderful warmth spreading rapidly through my damp underwear, and my hand getting warm and wet through the nylon between my legs. Within seconds, I was leaking freely, and a warm pee trail ran down both legs and over my feet, which were in a pair of flip flops. The pee ran over my feet, and pooled on the sand beneath me, as I struggled, unsuccessfully at first, to shut of the flow as a steady stream ran from the crotch and hem of my short shorts. I must've peed for perhaps 7-10 seconds before I was able to regain control again. 

By now, the front of my faded shorts were very wet, with a patch the size of a small plate soaking me from the inside hem of my left leg, over the front with a spot much bigger than a tennis ball, all the way to the hem on the other side. My bare legs and feet were glistening in the sun, and that combined with a big wet patch on the ground would've made it incredibly obvious what I had just done if anybody appeared over the dune at that moment. 

Holding my cooler and now my towel as well for the sake of privacy, I hurried over the dune and down onto the beach itself. To my right it was deserted, and to the left the nearest people were perhaps 200 meters away.

I was safe. 

I lit a cigarette and stood there, finally letting go altogether. I pissed like a racehorse, strong enough to force a small arc through the seam on my crotch, and the bottom of my orange Billabong t-shirt soon got wet as well, wicking the wetness up towards my tummy as I again coated my legs and feet in naughty wetness. I allowed myself to hold with my free hand as I peed, and the urine was running uncontrollably through my fingers. 

By the time I'd finished, I was soaked. I finished my smoke and stood there enjoying the sensation, but by then the people to my left started walking towards me, so I hurriedly dropped my cooler and towel, and ran into the water to hide what a naughty boy I had been. 

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  • 2 weeks later...
  • 5 years later...

I enjoyed reading this.
 

I wonder if you have any stories of doing the same thing sober (for example drinking either coffee or soda (in safe quantities, but still enough to cause desperation) instead of beer).
 

I don’t currently drink myself, but I’m curious about your take on what it is like doing this sober versus drunk/buzzed.

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