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This is a reprint of a story I originally wrote several years ago for a now-defunct site similar to this one.  It kicked off a six-part series called "Pee Where You Sit" which is now hosted on Literotica.  It explored the use of an exceptionally efficient cleaning solution to essentially pee on floors and furniture without leaving any messes.  No one actually wets their pants, but they do pee alot on surfaces not ordinarily meant to be peed on.  If anyone's interested, here are all my stories on Literotica. 

If you're into scat as well as pee, I might recommend the "Nanobotic Toilets" series, with a similar premise of technology facilitating nonchalant self-relief in unorthodox places.  The one-off "Martian Mores" might also be fun, if you're willing to put up with some brief digression into my adult breastfeeding fetish.

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I climbed onto the bus with equal roughly measures of curiosity and trepidation, though I probably wouldn't have admitted to the former. This would be the strangest ride I've ever been on. I was still reeling a bit from what Coach had told me about this particular vehicle. It was an experimental model that attempted to cut costs and reduce waste by eschewing lavatories altogether in favor of upholstering the seats in a cutting-edge fabric that was supposed to be super-absorbent, self-sanitizing, and fast-drying. Apparently, budget cuts to our collegiate cheerleading squad had meant that helping the developers test their unusual invention was the only way we could attend this competition. So, although I was still a bit squeamish about the whole thing, I'd been dreaming about participating in this nationwide event for years, and I wasn't about to let something like this stop me.

I was still half-suspicious that this was an elaborate prank. After all, even if the fabric actually works, you still have to count on being seated next to someone you know well enough for shyness not to be an issue, and that seems like a tall order. When I brought this up, Coach said something about plans to add a mechanism for individual as well as pair privacy, but for a sports team that shared a locker room anyway, that finishing touch didn't seem worth delaying the trials of the seats, which were the main point. Still, the whole idea just struck me as weird. How exactly all this technology was less costly than a normal lavatory was beyond me.

"Do you really think Coach was serious about this?" I asked my best friend Natalie as we made our way to the most posterior seats still available.

"Well, Tracy," she replied, briefly inspecting one of several navy-blue curtains hanging from a rod that ran the length of the bus on each side of the aisle. "If these privacy curtains are any indication, I'd say yes." I reached up with my duffel bag to toss it into the overhead compartment, but my tall blonde friend smirked as I struggled a bit to reach. "Being short sucks," I pouted.

Natalie tossed her own bag up with an ease that taunted me and claimed the window seat. "You're not that short," she chuckled as she put our large shared tote bag of entertainment and other provisions at our feet. "And besides, you have enough curves to make up for whatever you lack in height."

I muttered an unconvinced, "Thanks," and sat down next to her and tucked a lock of dark brown hair behind my ear self-consciously.

"Seriously, I'd kill for your cleavage," she muttered back.

"Alright, I get it!" I said, my mild annoyance quickly giving way to amusement. "You turn your fair share of male heads, too, you know."

"True," she admitted with a smugness that made me laugh despite myself.

The bus quickly filled up, and a quick glance to the front showed Coach apparently nearing the end of her head check. In another five minutes, the bus shook briefly with ignition as our roughly eight-hour journey began. Once we were on a long stretch of highway, Natalie reached in to our tote, pulled out two big bottles of water, and offered one to me.

"Nat! Seriously?"

"C'mon! Coach always wants us to hydrate ourselves on the way to an event to have us ready for warm-ups as soon as we arrive. She always has no matter what we were riding, remember? Honestly, I'm surprised we haven't had hardly any accidents on any of our other trips." She paused. "In a way, this bus is a solution to a problem that's been looming over us since day one. Because of the hydration policy, the threat of accidents was always hanging over our heads. Now, we can have our cake and eat it too, so to speak!"

I begrudgingly took the water from her but refrained from drinking right away lest she figure out my inner realization that she'd made a fair point. I finally took a quick swig before hauling out my DVD player and headphones to take my mind off it.

I watched in peace for a good couple of hours or so before Natalie nudged me with her elbow. "Just got a text from the captain. The magic upholstery has passed its first test."

I raised both my eyebrows, my curiosity overshadowing any other response. "Really?"

"See! I knew you were curious,..." Something else caught her eye. "...and apparently so are some others."

I turned to look where she was looking and saw that, not only had a few curtains been drawn, but a couple of my bolder teammates weren't even bothering with the privacy guard at all. I plainly saw Darla standing up and pulling her beige shorts down while Erica was already sitting down with her jeans around her shins, peeing shamelessly onto her seat, if the look of relief on her face was any indication. In shock, I threw our own privacy curtain into position to block my view, but that instinct quickly wore off, and I found the corners of my gaping mouth tugging upwards as I turned to Natalie and started giggling despite myself. It was so audacious, and yet this is exactly what we were supposed to do! We laughed at the weirdness of it all, and my self-consciousness waned substantially.

I soon resumed my movie, and it ended up lulling me to sleep. I awoke a while later to the sound of Natalie talking to her older brother on the phone. But I soon realized that that wasn't what had actually woken me up as I felt an all-too-familiar pelvic twinge. I looked over at Natalie only to find that she seemed to be beset by the same affliction, and judging from how she was holding her crotch and rocking herself, it had probably been building up for much longer than my own pressure had.

A resigned sigh escaped Natalie's lips, and lodging her phone between her cheek and shoulder, she leaned back and unbuttoned her jean shorts. I watched slack-jawed as she half-stood with her back supported by her seat and yanked her shorts and panties down. She then collapsed back onto the cushion. The slightly obtuse angle at which she now sat put just a few millimeters between her genital slit and the seat, but that was enough to see how strong the stream was that erupted and flowed steadily out of her. She leaned her head back with half-lidded eyes and presumably bit back a moan. She was still peeing quite forcefully when she finally caught my eye and mouthed, "This feels so good!"

She kept emptying her bladder for a few moments after she finally ended her phone call. "Oh, wow! I had to go pretty bad!"

When her flood stopped a moment later, I watched in awe as it only took about thirty seconds for the huge puddle to soak into the seat and apparently disappear entirely. I was so amazed that I had forgotten to be discreet about my own desperation, and it took Natalie's suddenly mischievous grin to realize that I had begun clutching my own crotch and squirming. "Why, Tracy, do you have to go to the bathroom?" she drawled.

I realized that the urge was quickly getting worse, likely no thanks to her having relieved herself right in front of me just seconds before. I squirmed and rocked for about a minute longer before I gave up. "Nope! I can't hold it anymore, at least not when there's really no point to it. Damn you!" I shot her a playfully indignant look before I leaned back, lifted my butt off the seat, and practically tore my own shorts and panties down to my shins. No sooner had I landed my butt back on the seat than I let loose a fierce torrent. I gasped and bit my lip to avoid moaning. The rush of extreme pressure release and the feeling of my warm pee pooling around my privates and thighs soon had me leaning back with my head bent skyward in utter relief. "Oh, that feels so much better!"

After I finished soaking my seat, it dried just as quickly as Natalie's had, so I pulled my shorts back up and sat back down. Natalie and I looked at each other and giggled. Now that I'd taken the plunge and found it oddly liberating, I felt more comfortable with the situation. Don't get me wrong. It was still weird. Just not in the more awkward way it'd been before.

We both continued drinking water, a bit more eagerly now that the prospect of having to pee wasn't as intimidating as it had been. I was the first to need a second release. I'd actually held it for a while to let the pressure build up. Most of the unexpected pleasure of my first unorthodox peeing experience relied on unleashing some serious volume, and I wanted to be sure that if I was going to break decorum again, it would at least be decently worth it. I waited until I was visibly squirming (or would've been, if Natalie wasn't taking her turn for a nap at the time) before I gave in. I stood up, unbuttoned and unzipped my shorts, and let them fall to my ankles. I then yanked my underwear down and lowered myself back onto the cushion. Thighs apart, I leaned back a bit and let out a satisfied sigh as I started peeing with reckless abandon. After about a minute of steady flow, I had practically covered my seat with a huge wet spot.

Natalie's turn came just as our trip was approaching its end. She was still asleep when we rolled into the county where the competition was being held, so I shook her awake. "Hey, we're almost there."

She stirred and blinked before opening her eyes fully. "How close?" she asked.

"About ten minutes, maybe," I answered with a quick glance out the window. Even as I spoke, she suddenly hissed and grabbed her crotch. "Do you have to pee again?"

She nodded. "I'd probably make it if I really cared, but I don't think it matters." She swiftly unfastened her shorts. "I'm just gonna go right here." She propped her butt up long enough to rip her shorts and panties down and then let herself fall back onto the cushion. Within a second, what looked (and sounded) like a gallon of pee was gushing out of her, completely soaking the seat once more. "That's better," she said when she finished.

Things got even more interesting on the trip back home after we'd earned second place. Andrea, our tall auburn-haired squad captain, had been busy helping Coach organize our embarkation that morning, so by the time she was free to go to the bathroom, she apparently didn't see the point in running back to the rest station's lavatory. So although Andrea was among the last to board, she was definitely the first to relieve herself on the bus. She climbed up and had already unzipped her jeans when she reached her seat. A couple of seconds later, before we were even on the road, she was quite openly and rigorously peeing into the fabric.

We followed a bit behind her and approached a brunette named Jasmine and her red-haired best friend Ginger (whose parents apparently weren't very creative with names). Poor Ginger had broken her arm in a particularly daring routine. She had valiantly seen it through in spite of her pain, but she was now comfortably in a sling. "I tell you what," we overheard Jasmine say, "why don't we just take 'em down now and leave 'em down until we get there, so you don't have to keep asking me for help going to the bathroom like a little kid." Ginger nodded gratefully, so Jasmine opened up the redhead's pants and pulled them down for her. "Actually," the brunette realized as her companion sat down, "that sounds really convenient anyway, injury or not. Who cares?" she shrugged and unbuttoned her own white capris just as we passed by.

We gaped at each other and wordlessly agreed that their idea was very intriguing. As soon as we found our seats and pulled the privacy curtain into place, we promptly lowered our shorts and panties in a single motion each and planted our naked butts on the high-tech cushions.

Over the next eight hours, we drank to our hearts content, and when we felt that pressing need to pee, we didn't hesitate to just flood our seats. Once, when we were watching a movie together, the urge made itself known again. Without even taking my eyes off the screen, I just spread my thighs a bit and let myself pee nonchalantly on the seat. Later, when the movie was over, Natalie was reading something on her Kindle when I saw her lean back. Her gaze never wavering from the text, she simply extended her thighs outward and started peeing. By the time she'd emptied her bladder, the fabric she sat on was absolutely soaked in a warm puddle, but we both new it wouldn't be for long.

I was the first to wake up when we arrived home. I woke Natalie up, and we soon rose to our feet, made ourselves decent again, collected our things, and pulled the curtain open. On the way to the exit, we came upon Jasmine and Ginger, both still seated with spread legs peeing freely onto the cushions. Jasmine's torrent was healthy enough, but Ginger's was an outright deluge! "One more for the road?" I teased.

Jasmine chuckled as she continued relieving herself. "Ginger here wanted to see just how much these seats could take in, so she's been holding it for hours. When she realized our time was up, she just exploded! And then, the sight and sound of it just made me have to go too, so..." She sighed in satisfaction as her flow dwindled and then stood up to re-dress herself.

Ginger kept gushing for a few moments. "Mmm," she intoned when she finally finished unloading it all, "That felt so good! I had to go so bad!"

Jasmine laughed as Ginger stood up, and the former swiftly helped the latter pull her pants back up and fasten them. "I had my doubts about this whole pee-where-you-sit thing," the redhead confessed, "but I have to admit, it's been fun! I hope we get to ride this bus again."

"Me too!" I concurred.

 

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