Charlie Kirby 829 Posted August 8, 2021 Popular Post Share Posted August 8, 2021 I wrote this after a wetting experience last November, having lived with my partner (let’s call her Daisy) for the best part of a year and a half. At the time, Daisy didn’t know about my fetish. When our country had been in lockdown for about eight months, I had been forced to be dry for as long. You can understand my burning desire to do something. —— Wrapped in my thick sweater and jacket I’m oblivious to the bitter chill. I’ve been walking into the forest for some 30 minutes, turning off the tracks we have rambled so many times together. I’ve been following the meandering path of a spring, treading its soft wet trail and allowing it to lead me far away from fellow human beings. Now I’m in nature’s embrace. Held in the privacy of thick trees, leafless branches the only witness to my indecent intention. I’m so grateful to have met you. I love you dearly, and feel ashamed to keep this secret. But I don’t know how to tell you. I fear your judgment. Fear it’ll change things for you to know about my watery fetish. But I cannot change. My mind drifts into luscious wet fantasies often. My legs long to feel the heat of mischievously released pee. I’ve been caged living with you. Your boundless love, supportive embrace, and romantic everything should be enough. But my hidden desires grow by the day. I darn’t act on them in our apartment. It feels like betrayal. So here I walk, in the dirty surrounds of nature to enact the dirty deed I crave. My backpack heavy with wetter’s paraphernalia. Clean jeans and a towel are the essentials. Wet wipes the luxury. My heart heavy with guilt for a sin I’m yet to commit. I’m far from prying eyes now. The infrequent bird movement above me, the only break from my isolation. I take off my face mask, breathing deep cleansing lungfuls of frosty air, and feeling the sting on my cheeks. For the first time in months, I stand fully clothed and allow my bladder to relax. Deep under jeans and thermal pants, cotton panties are suddenly warm and wet. It’s the briefest of leaks. Feeling the forbidden gush, my body tenses immediately. My heart skips before I force another squirt to warm my undies. Excited by the incipient wetting, my knees weaken the same way they did when we kissed for the first time. I’ve stopped at a birch tree. It’s old, with soft wood ferns growing at its base. About a metre from the ground a thick branch splits from the trunk, forming an inviting seat in the base of a y-shape. I take my boots off, lay my backpack on higher ground, and climb to straddle the split. As my bottom lowers onto the wood, the full weight of my body presses down on damp panties. They grow cold already, but feel devilishly good all the same. The tick branch beckons me to lay forward. I do, curling my arms around the trunk and resting my head on its hard but bosom like curve. Hair matted with moss and bark, bare feet dangling in wintry air. I force another squirt into my wet panties, feeling eager butterflies dance within, but equally wishing trepidation could subside enough for me to pee more naturally. Then again, what’s more natural than taking a leak amongst the birds and trees? I let the old wood take full support of me, and feel a blissfulness purify my whole being. It’s as if the tree has an aura of wholistic greatness and wisdom, and now my very sole is wet with it. I’ve mocked tree-huggers in the past, but if this is the peace they experience I can understand everything. I close my eyes and listen to the gentle wind stroke the thousands of branches around me. A heavenly relaxation is taking over. As my mind drifts away, my body slumps into the branch. Pulled by Mother Nature, my bottom presses into the trunk behind me. The pressure of the wood like a caring hand cupping my cheeks. The branch under me seeming to grow between my thighs and somehow fill a void deep in my heart. For a moment, I am back at home in my teenage years. My parents are out. I am astride the rocking horse I used to wet on, experiencing the unexplained pleasure as I lay forward on that horse to feel the pommel of the saddle rub my wet clothes. Suspended in an equilibrium of fantasy and pleasure, my bladder begins a slow release. Short, unprompted leaks seep out. The thermal pants are soon saturated by repeated spurts, soon a glistening dark patch spreads from the crotch of my jeans. I’m barely aware I’m peeing. All I feel is the tranquility of everything being just as it should be. My nipples hurt in my bra. I can see you pinching them. You’re under me. Wet in my puddle. You urge me on. Tell me to keep the torrent pouring down my thighs. I oblige with delight. Heat is running over the bark and down my legs. Both bear feet dangle in mid air, steaming yellow liquid enveloping my heals and dribbling from relaxed toes. I hear the soft forest floor accepting my watery gift. Deep within, a cascade of emotion and gratification descend over me. I’m ashamed to keep my fetish secret. I’m embarrassed at my wet body. But in my optimistic fantasy your eyes brim with acceptance and love. I am drenched. My hands and knees grip the branch, pee splashing. Then fantasy wavers and reality hits. Tears roll from my eyes, I am drowned in the emotion of my first wetting for months. Pleasure. Dishonesty. I am a dirty liar with a dirty habit. I cry for several minutes, sobbing into the tree with irrational hurt. I’m cold and shivering. I picture your disappointed confusion, and climb down, ashamed. My legs are drenched. A sharp broken twig stabs my foot. It hurts. What would you think? It’s not pleasant undressing in the icy air. I’m half naked in the wood. Even the wet wipes are freezing cold. I get the job done as briskly as I can, bag the sinful clothes, and pick the dirt from my hair. Somehow I still need the toilet, so I squat to empty a final trickle as if it’ll relieve my sorrow. It does not. I go home. I’ll tell you soon. I’m sorry. —— Thank you for reading. Re-visiting it is a strange experience for me, knowing how much we’ve both changed. Wish Daisy’s consent, I’d like to share more of my old write ups like this one. Would you like that? derektor_2000, Wetsy, ThreadbareOmo and 14 others 13 4 Quote Link to comment
ragtime 127 Posted August 8, 2021 Share Posted August 8, 2021 Captures the contradictory feelings perfectly. If you and Daisy are will to share more, I'd love to read them! Charlie Kirby 1 Quote Link to comment
dwp 465 Posted August 8, 2021 Share Posted August 8, 2021 For those of us who love to wet, Not being able to give in to the urge on occasion can really be hell. The longer it goes, the harder it is. I wet everyday when I can, and really can't stand it if I have to go more than a week. I just have to find a way that I can enjoy a good wetting. Thank you for sharing your story. Charlie Kirby 1 Quote Link to comment
Tellnoone 2,400 Posted August 8, 2021 Share Posted August 8, 2021 Wow, this was one of the most beautiful stories I´ve read on here. I love wetting alone in nature and your descriptions of it are amazingly poetic, but I can also just too well relate to the conflict about it, the longing for it, the pleasure and the deep shame, it´s spot on. I have made the same journey. Charlie Kirby 1 Quote Link to comment
xixi 167 Posted August 9, 2021 Share Posted August 9, 2021 17 hours ago, Charlie Kirby said: I’ve been caged living with you. Your boundless love, supportive embrace, and romantic everything should be enough. But my hidden desires grow by the day. I darn’t act on them in our apartment. It feels like betrayal. I can very much relate to that. Thanks for this amazing text, as always, a piece of excellent writing. Charlie Kirby 1 Quote Link to comment
Charlie Kirby 829 Posted August 9, 2021 Author Share Posted August 9, 2021 Wow thanks all for the kind words. @ragtime We’ll see how Daisy feels when I can pluck up the courage to ask. @dwp, @Tellnoone, @xixi I wasn’t expecting to have so many people say they can relate. I’ve felt very alone in some of the mixed emotions I’ve felt around this fetish. It’s encouraging to know I was wrong. Tellnoone 1 Quote Link to comment
Toady567 235 Posted August 10, 2021 Share Posted August 10, 2021 Wow. I know how you feel. Charlie Kirby 1 Quote Link to comment
Charlie Kirby 829 Posted August 11, 2021 Author Share Posted August 11, 2021 @Toady567 Thanks x Quote Link to comment
peelion 413 Posted August 11, 2021 Share Posted August 11, 2021 yes I think that in reality it is a rather solitary fetish that we have unfortunately 😶 Charlie Kirby 1 Quote Link to comment
PrincessInTheP 3,328 Posted August 11, 2021 Share Posted August 11, 2021 You write beautifully. I love how well you express your love/hate relationship with this kink and also what your senses pick up in your surroundings Quote Link to comment
Charlie Kirby 829 Posted August 14, 2021 Author Share Posted August 14, 2021 On 8/11/2021 at 7:49 PM, PrincessInTheP said: You write beautifully. I love how well you express your love/hate relationship with this kink and also what your senses pick up in your surroundings Thank you! ❤️ Quote Link to comment
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