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The Pants-Pissing Chronicles are loosely based on themes of people I have known. However, any association, explicit or implied is purely accidental.
Years were to pass since Lisa's introduction to the joys of pants-peeing, and except for occasional 'accidents', she stayed basically dry. As Lisa had always considered herself a 'dry' girl, it was important to her to never have a real accident, so on occasions when she knew she would not hold it, she contrived a deliberate wetting at a time and place of her choosing, to avoid an outright accident in front of friends, relatives and classmates. A common occurrence of this was on schooldays, while walking home from school. Except for that one fateful day when Lisa discovered her love of completely pissing her pants, she always managed to hold it until the end of classes, but often only just. On such days, Lisa would leave the schoolgrounds for her walk home, and as soon as she was far enough away from the school and otherwise out of sight of any of the pupils, teachers, and parents, she would let out her pee in spurts as she walked.
The first time she ever did this, the force of the release surprised her and on the first escape of urine into her pants, Lisa made the mistake of trying to run home in an attempt to beat her bladder to the finish line. This had the effect of drawing attention to her while simultaneously causing her to lose control and totally pee her pants! Of course, she stopped immediately and tried to contain the damage, but the floodgates had been opened and could not be closed, so she was forced to stand on the footpath waiting for the flood to subside, while her urine gushed through her saturated crotch, streaming down her legs into her shoes and onto the ground. Since that time, she had made sure not to allow such a display again. So rather than wait until she was bursting and in danger of a similar performance, Lisa took to having little wets in her pants as the day wore on. Having always had superb control of her bladder, she could meter her small squirts precisely to keep her pants wet but not saturated, and by taking care to not sit on the back of the skirt of her tunic, she could maintain her pants in a state of continual and complete dampness, the urine in her wet crotch topped up frequently as it soaked away into the rest of her pants. Lisa didn't know or much care if anyone noticed that she left damp outlines of the urine soaked crotch and seat of her pants wherever she sat. The important thing was to last the day through without either using those unmentionable toilets or uncontrollably wetting her pants.
But on her way home, Lisa still allowed herself the pleasures of less controlled wetting. She loved the feel of her damp pants around her hips and between her legs, and the smell of the drying urine as it drifted up from under her tunic. As she walked home in the midst of all these stimuli, her urine inevitably started to hiss on the inside of her pants in small squirts, and as she strode along, she noticed the squirts keeping time with her footsteps. With dried and drying urine in her pants and fresh urine soaking through them, trickling down her legs, squishing in her shoes and socks, and marking her footsteps down the footpath, Lisa was in heaven. She only needed to make sure she stopped peeing early enough to allow her legs to dry by the time she arrived home. A few times Lisa had mistimed this, and she had been forced to walk around the block until it stopped. And of course, there was always the temptation to just squat somewhere and let it all out . . .
Approaching her teens, Lisa found that the crotch of her pants stayed wetter for longer, and as she discovered the joys and turmoil of womanhood, came to realize that her body was aiding her in her quest for wetness in her pants. Even on days when for one reason or another, she had not peed her pants even a little, Lisa's pants became 'soggy' from that other moisture which came from down there where all sorts of new feelings and drives were seemingly centered. And at different times in this new 'cycle' of hers, her pants were sometimes even wetter! Lisa and her friends had discussed these new phenomena, and she knew that it was normal for there to be some wetness, but that the other girls didn't seem to have as much as she did. That was fine by her, as she loved wet pants, but she was not so sure she liked the heavy musky odour of this new stealthy moisture that kept her pants wet for her. In fact, she found that she much preferred the smell of her urine-drenched pants, and so she persisted with her secret activities. Very shortly, however, she noticed that the combination of her beloved urine and her sexual moisture somehow produced a perfume which was even better than urine alone, if that was possible. Lisa knew that her smell was not to the liking of most people, having been the target of some thinly veiled criticism since her earliest days of wetting, but even more so as her female friends became more interested in more personal things like feminine hygiene, body odours and the like. But Lisa liked her smell, regardless of what others thought. She had just become very accustomed to it over the years, and perhaps that was enough reason. Or perhaps it really was as wonderful a perfume as she thought, and being used to it had made her immune to the sort of prejudices that had befallen her friends. Lisa could not at that age, of course, have known about pheromones and their mysterious effect on both sexes...
So, Lisa had developed a very relaxed approach to sexual wetness by the time she met Lloyd. Even though she had seen some social need to restrict her pants-wetting, she still liked the smell and the feeling when she could get it. Having lived with wetness from both her sex and urine for all of her sexually aware life, Lisa was liberal about how and where she peed, happy to squat behind a bush and even when she DID use a toilet, preferred to allow her nice soft pants to absorb the excess urine rather than to use toilet paper. When she didn't need to pee badly, with her pants on or off, she tended to dribble slowly, which spread the urine around nicely. This gave her a smaller dose of the wetness between her legs that she craved, and mixed with her other moisture, kept her pants nicely soggy. To avoid the chance of very obvious wet stains on her clothes, Lisa had changed her style of underwear to thick cotton hip-hugging ones with long double-thickness crotch panels which came to half-way up the front. They absorbed even more of her wetness, and smelt just as good as the thinner ones, if not better, as the thick cotton took longer to dry.
Lisa preferred to think that it was the way she smelt that had attracted Lloyd to her, but she didn't realize how right she was! From the first time Lloyd had spoken to Lisa, he had noticed that around her, he felt charged somehow and drawn to her in an almost chemical way. He also noticed that her odour was different from the other women he knew, and wrongly attributed that to the fact that Lisa did not seem to use perfume of any sort. Whatever was the cause, Lisa smelt great to him and he couldn't help but breathe deeply in her presence, inhaling the pheromones that gave him such a surge. For her part, Lisa noticed that Lloyd didn't seem to use scents much either and he always had a strong but inoffensive male odour whenever he was in her presence. And so the two of them hit it off marvellously right up to the day Lloyd discovered her secret love.
As soon as their relationship progressed to petting, Lloyd noticed something exciting about Lisa. Her pants were always damp! And after touching her there, his fingers always smelt strongly - a mixture of woman and... half-dried urine! Now Lloyd knew where Lisa's smell came from - oh, where had this woman been for the whole of his life?!
As time went on and their relationship developed to include sex, he noticed that Lisa had a particular way of pulling on her panties, or 'pants' as she called them. She would pull them up at the sides and back until they were in place on her hips and buttocks, then she would pull up on the front of them to tighten the tension on her crotch. She habitually did this and Lloyd loved it. He loved watching the way her sex was shaped by the tight double thickness of material. Even when Lisa was idly walking around the room in her pants, she would sometimes repeat the process, pulling her legbands up, then pulling her crotch up tight.
Lisa loved the feeling of tight pants. Even when she was a young girl, she preferred her pants tight enough so that they stayed that way, even when she peed them, but as her body developed into that of a young woman, she also discovered wonderful feelings when she pulled them up against the sensitive parts between her legs. Peeing hard in tight pants also gave her those feelings, as her urine, contained by sexual contours held tightly together by her pants, forced its way out, to be soaked up by the thick material. She also loved wearing tight leotards and swimsuits, to which she applied the same principals. Selecting good one-piece athletic swimsuits that were designed for real swimming rather than just decoration, Lisa would pull the bottom of the suit up into place, then pull the legbands up high so that her bottom and crotch were tight, finally pulling up the top of her swimsuit so that it was comfortable, without too much tension on the shoulder straps. Wearing a bikini, she would wear the pants in the same way as she would her underwear. Leotards would be chosen at least one size too small to achieve the same effect.
She discovered that while the lycra material of her swimsuit didn't absorb her pee like the cotton of her underpants, it stayed tight much better without her needing to adjust them from time to time. But she also rather enjoyed the body-hugging feeling of wearing a leotard under her clothes and the cotton-lycra material was almost as good for peeing in as the thick cotton of her underpants, and so she often wore a leotard under her skirt rather than pants and a top. Being small up top, and not needing a bra, Lisa often found her leotard was all the underwear she needed, and teamed with a loose or short skirt, gave her a feeling of freedom which of course encouraged more wettings.
There were occasions, however, when Lisa enjoyed wearing her swimsuit and being able to pee through the material without too much mess, especially when at the beach or pool with others. They always seemed to think the wetness in her crotch was from the water, rather than self-inflicted. Until the day she and Lloyd went to the pool together for the first time. Lloyd had bought her a beautiful swimsuit which she had worn once or twice before at the beach, and it had become her favourite. As with any swimsuit she loved, it was tight. It had four panels, the front and back were royal blue, while two sky blue panels ran down the sides from armpit to hip. It was medium-high cut, and every time she pulled it up over her hips, she felt the fabric tighten between her legs satisfyingly. After Lisa had pulled the straps over her shoulders, she pulled again on the legbands, tightening her crotch even more. She couldn't resist touching herself, feeling her cleft through the thin lycra. There was no lining in these, and she could already feel her moisture soaking through the single layer of material. On impulse, she squirted some urine over her fingers. With difficulty, she held the rest, realizing that she could not let go in the change room in case someone came in. So she held herself while she fought her dislike of public facilities and quickly slipped into the nearest toilet cubicle. She noticed absently that this one had no paper, which was inconsequencial as she had no intention of using any, already peeing forceably through the tight lycra into the water in the bowl. The sound of her urine hitting the water with such force and the hiss as it surged through the material of her swimsuit excited her and she barely resisted playing with her clit through the wet material, knowing that she must already be a sight and not wanting to spread the wetness even more.
When she came out of the cubicle, she caught sight of herself in the mirror, and seeing how wet she was, decided to blame it on the lack of toilet paper, which was not exactly a lie, after all. After drying herself with the towel as much as possible, she emerged into the light, to see Lloyd waiting for her. His eyes immediately went to her wet crotch, widening as he saw how wet she was. Lisa explained her state with the comment about the toilet paper and Lloyd seemed to accept that, but kept staring at the wet patch which ran from a peak just under the curve of her mound back between her legs all the way to the curve of her buttocks. While they sat on the grass bank at one side of the pool, Lloyd grinned and commented that he didn't suppose she wanted to go into the water to 'wash off', to which she answered no. Lloyd smiled at this, and Lisa thought that his smile seemed a little too knowing, meaningful, as if he suspected what she had really done. Lisa didn't mind that - she had explained it away, and now she could just sit and enjoy her secret knowledge and the dampness between her legs.
Then one day at the beach, her secret was given away and Lloyd realized all was not entirely normal with his new girlfriend. Which was just fine, as far as he was concerned. Lloyd had avoided introducing the subject of pants-wetting, waiting until the appropriate time to bring it up. At the pool, he had almost said something, but her explanation for the wet patch in her crotch was just plausible enough to have been truthful, but this time there was no doubt . . .
They had arrived at the beach in the middle of the afternoon, after driving around the cool hinterland for most of the morning. They had stopped once or twice to buy drinks but hadn't stopped even once to go to the toilet. Lisa thought this strange, as she had expected Lloyd to at least ask if she needed to go. She would have said no, of course, but not having been given the option intrigued her. Lloyd had drunk as much as she had, but he was bigger, so maybe he didn't have to go as much as she did. But by mid-afternoon, she was really needing to pee, and wearing only her lovely tight new swimsuit, and a pair of shorts, she couldn't just let go a squirt or two, which wouldn't have really helped anyway. For the first time in years, she found herself unable to do anything about her filling bladder without being too obvious! Still harbouring her hatred of toilets, she suggested to Lloyd that it was probably time they went to the beach. There, she would find a way to relieve her aching bladder.
Lloyd agreed and soon they arrived at the beach, where the sand was still warm, even though the heat had gone out of the sun and the seabreeze was starting to blow cool off the water. They had reached the sand when Lisa pronounced that this would do, and without further ado, dropped her shorts, put down her towel, and sat on it, crossing her legs lotus-fashion and leaning forward over her parted legs, hiding her exposed crotch with her arms and body. While Lloyd organized himself, her aching bladder emptied itself through her tight swimsuit, and so wonderful were those feelings that Lisa drifted off in bliss centred on her wetting. So absorbed was she in her urination that she didn't notice the hissing of her urine as it spurted under pressure through the lycra and into the towel. She had finished peeing when she finally awoke to Lloyd asking her if she wanted to go for a swim, to which she said no, maybe later.
So they just sat on the beach for a while and read, the sun sinking lower and the day cooling more and more. As a chill crept into the air they had even less reason for going into the water, and finally, with the day getting too cool to stay on the beach, they decided to go up to the car. Lisa had not peed for an hour or so, since she first arrived, but as soon as she stood up, she knew that even this was not long enough as the wet patch on her towel was still very obvious, meaning that at least some or maybe all of the pee-stain in her swimsuit would be still visible! She quickly pulled up her shorts and then picked up her towel to quickly cover the evidence . . . But Lloyd was quicker.
He had also arrived at the beach needing to pee and thought it fairly indicative that Lisa hadn't immediately gone into the water, at least to pee. He already wondered if Lisa enjoyed peeing in her pants like he did, but had no proof as yet. So he decided to wait and see if some proof presented itself. He didn't have long to wait, though, as almost as soon as Lisa sat cross-legged on her towel, he heard the soft but unmistakable sound of hissing urine! It was undoubtedly coming from Lisa, so now he knew the answer to his persistent question, but he needed to see it with his own eyes, and so he kept up a vigil, waiting to catch her with the evidence. A couple of times, when she had shifted position slightly, he thought he noticed a wet patch on the towel under her, and he was certain that her crotch was wet as well, but that was probably wishful thinking. But when it was time to go, he didn't miss a single move as she uncrossed her legs, briefly exposing for the first time, the crotch of her swimsuit complete with the outline of a half-dried pee stain, and as she got to her feet, the still-wet pee stain between her legs and on her seat was obvious on the royal blue material. Lloyd saw the stain in the towel at precisely the same time as Lisa did, and as she hurriedly pulled on her shorts, a smile crossed his lips.
When Lisa turned back to him, bundling the towel to hide the last of the evidence, and saw his smile, she knew the jig was up. He knew! And he didn't mind! But she had to be sure... Her heart beat fast as she asked what he was smiling about. Then it skipped a beat when, pulling on his own shorts, he answered that she already knew! He DID know! And still he smiled. Then he told her that she could do it anytime she wanted, as far as he was concerned, and maybe next time, she would let him join her! You mean, she started saying. Peeing your pants, he finished. And with that, started the next phase of Lisa's wet life . . .
To be continued...
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