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Thank you all for reading and enjoying my story!

On 6/3/2019 at 3:32 PM, AD51 said:

Nice story! Looking forward to the next part. Also how old are the characters supposed to be here?

I had originally intended them to be around the mid-teens (i.e. 14-17), though I probably didn't portray their ages very well in hindsight...

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  • 1 year later...
19 hours ago, Vena Sera said:

I probably will, just haven't got ideas on how to though

Maybe have them talk about their wettings, and how they enjoy it, on the way home Then have the younger sister admit she needs to pee again before they get home and won't make it home, so the older sister admits she's desperate as well and suggests they stand face to face and wet themselves at the same time, enjoying it so much that they both orgasm. After, their relationship becomes closer than ever, often holding and wetting together.

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On 8/15/2020 at 11:38 AM, cjm3rcl1n3 said:

Maybe have them talk about their wettings, and how they enjoy it, on the way home Then have the younger sister admit she needs to pee again before they get home and won't make it home, so the older sister admits she's desperate as well and suggests they stand face to face and wet themselves at the same time, enjoying it so much that they both orgasm. After, their relationship becomes closer than ever, often holding and wetting together.

That would be lovely!

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  • 1 month later...
The next few moments were some of the most awkward and embarrassing minutes that I had to live through in my life so far. Wetting yourself in front of someone is one thing, but your sister? And the younger one at that?
 
My face flushed and heated up, and I froze in my seat, whilst still letting the remaining pee flow out of me. I dared not look back at my sister, though I could feel her shocked and curious gaze weigh on me the entire time. This continued on for what was most likely 5 real-world minutes, though it definitely felt much longer than that.
 
"Can I ask you something?" She began, her voice barely audible over the sound of rain pattering down on sheet metal. 
 
"What did you say?" Wrong response. She shifted over even closer now, and repeated herself into my ear.
 
"What is it?" I replied, still not willing to face her.
 
"Do you like..." She trailed off, suddenly unable to finish her sentence. "Actually, will you hate me if I say this?"
 
I heard a sob, and instinctively turned around. She had her hands over her face, but before I could reach out to her, she blurted everything out.
 
"I like pee. Do you like it?" I froze in shock, not knowing how to reply, and her hands gripped her face even harder, as she yelled and cringed at what she just blurted out. As I tried to find words to say, I suddenly heard more sobbing, and immediately without a second thought, I confessed.
 
"Yes." She jolted at me almost in shock, and lowered her hands to reveal to me tear-filled eyes, and a face about as red as mine about 10 minutes ago. "I really do, honest."
 
I spilt everything out to her - how I first wet myself at this very pool all those years back, how I felt about wetting and watching her wet herself, and even how I encouraged her to make it to the pool despite there being vacant, usable toilets at the train station. I watched her process everything I said, and I could tell that a conflict of emotions were brewing beneath her tear-stricken face. Whatever it was, it proved overwhelming, for the next thing I knew, she leaned onto me, and silently cried into my arm. In between sobs, she confessed that she had been feeling this way about pee for a while now, beginning with her ballet classes that she took since elementary school. As she alternated between crying and talking, I gently rubbed and patted her head, all the while mustering enough mental strength to not cry, though a few drops of tears did escape my eyelids. As she talked about her ballet pee story, I also began to recall a day years ago when I arrived home late from school, and found my sister standing around the front porch, with a large wet patch on the crotch of her ballet leotard and down her white tights. I didn't really assume anything about it back then, though now that scene would not stop replaying in my head.
 
Eventually, she calmed down, and got off me, allowing me to get off the pool of pee between me and my seat. I stood up, took my skirt off, handed it to my sister, pulling the pair of denim shorts out of my bag as well, and began assessing the damage. Luckily, I bunched my skirt up enough that it avoided taking any. My swimsuit, on the other hand, was fully soaked at the crotch, a large patch at the front of my crotch up until the gusset was discoloured and darkened into a deep, dark red, its blackish hue similar to wine and contrasting against the rest of my bright red suit. I stuck a hand behind my butt and felt around; a sizeable area felt wet and warm, meaning that a similarly large dark patch existed on my butt, confirming that my crotch was thoroughly wet front to back.
 
My sister put the skirt over her legsuit, and thankfully, it was long enough to conceal the bottom half of the swimsuit, hiding her soaked crotch and thighs, and dark enough that any wet patches from the skirt coming into contact with her pee-soaked swimsuit were not particularly visible. I put the pair of denim shorts on, realising that it was a little bit tight as I brought it up to my waist. Unfortunately, that meant that the crotch of my shorts immediately darkened around the crotch upon coming into contact with the pee-soaked swimsuit, and not long after putting it on, a dark, damp patch covered my crotch and butt, and it now looked as if I had wet myself through my shorts.
 
"Is that okay?" She asked, concerned, though I only smiled back in response. It was fine, as long as I could make her feel comfortable.
 
The rain had subsided a little bit by this point, though an announcement then rang out, informing everyone in the premise that due to the high chances of lightning continuing to strike the area for the next few hours, that the pool would be closed for the day. Visitors were advised to leave and head home as a result. We packed up as well, though there was nothing much for us to pack up, since we didn't bring extra clothes anyway. We exited the pool's premises as is - a white t-shirt and denim shorts soaked at the crotch by the swimsuit worn underneath for me, and a simple skirt over a swimsuit for her. A notification rang out on our phones just as we passed the gate, and both of us took a look - it was Dad messaging the family chat:
 
"Once again, your mother wants to go to the departmental store in town." The message read. "She says she has a couple of coupons to spend, which means we will be here till late, so you kids settle your own dinner, okay?"
 
Both of us saw the message, and immediately locked eyes with each other. Our mouths opened, but the words didn't come out.  I hesitated, wondering if I should spill out the suggestion that I had in my mind. One that would either evolve or destroy our relationship.
 
 
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The continuation of the story is thanks to the idea by cjm3rcl1n3. However, I have no experience with such a thing, so I don't really know how you guys will like this short chapter. That said, do let me know what you think about it! 
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