A letter from Lloyd of Australia.

www.xxtreamcam.com

From Zeta
           Reproduced from "Wet Set" magazine by kind permission
           of the publishers.
           Wet Set, P O Box 392 Turramurra, NSW 2074, Australia.


A letter from Lloyd of Australia.

"I've been a hopeless pants pisser since I can remember. I'm now 36 and
look like never stopping - certainly not 'growing out of it'! I've just
read the article in the latest Picture magazine devoted to pants
wetting. You had some photos there of women peeing in their jeans. I was
particularly intrigued by the one shown from behind - what is she doing
with her hand - feeling how wet her pants are, or is she trying to pee
on her hand? I would love to find out more.

I thought I was the only one into this sort of thing. I've tried to
introduce various (girl friends of mine to it, with varying success.
Mostly, they get a kick out of doing it and seeing me get a kick out of
it if you know what I mean. They all seem to enjoy the experience while
it's new, but when they 'come to their senses' they don't want to any
more. My marriage was even brought to an end because my wife decided she
didn't want to wet any more, even though she always seemed to enjoy it.
She would once piss anywhere, in anything. Swimmers and leotards (she's
a dancer) were particular favourites, but cotton knickers and lycra bike
pants, or just a nice high cut bikini brief under a skirt or even jeans
were great.

We would walk along the beach at sunset with our swimmers under our
shorts, stop somewhere near a dune or rocks, pull our shorts down and
pee through the swimmers. She had a pink one-piece I used to love her
peeing in. One day she was wearing it under a pair of tight white shorts
while we were walking along. She stopped and called my name, and I
turned around to see what she wanted. She looked down at herself, moved
her feet apart in the sand, bent her knees a little, and started to pee.
At first all I could see was her pee trickling out either side of her
crotch, down the legs of her shorts. Then the front of her crotch
darkened in a wet yellow stain that moved forward and spread sideways.
She pushed hard, and as she peed faster and faster, her pee spread
everywhere, running down her legs as well as falling straight down from
her pants to the sand.

She would often go for walks in the evening, and come back with her
pants wet from some fun she'd had on the way. Bike pants or a skirt were
particularly good, as was the black lycra of the bike pants you couldn't
see they were wet, nor the knickers underneath, and with a skirt she
could have as much fun as she liked without anyone but me knowing,
unless of course she sat down! Even when she went to the loo she didn't
dry, preferring to let her pants absorb the trickle remaining. We would
have nights when we would drink ourselves silly and piss and piss and
piss, without ever taking off our shorts or jeans.

We both also used to ride bicycles (racing bikes), and one of the things
cyclists do while riding is hydration, which is basically drinking as
much water as you can. Since you can't be stopping all the time for a
pee when you are in a group or a race, proper cyclists' pants have
special padding for peeing through. Basically it 'wicks' away the pee
and sends it running down your legs. For this reason amongst others,
cyclists recommend you don't wear knickers underneath, but I know most
women still prefer to, as do I. I think they like the extra layers of
fabric to pee through. I certainly do, and so did my wife.

I once had a girlfriend who had tried wetting a couple of times, but
wasn't really into it. One day we had been to the beach and had an
argument all the way back in the car. We hadn't stopped anywhere for a
pee, and hadn't peed at the beach either. On the way back she said she
had to go to the toilet but after I told her we would be home soon, she
said she would wait. When we got to my place we were still arguing as we
got out of the car, and instead of going up to the house, she said she
was going to walk home. She lived about 10 minutes drive away, but it
would be at least half an hour before she got home. I called after her
and said that I thought she needed to go to the toilet but she replied
that she'd hold it. I ran after her, telling her she should come back,
but she still kept walking. After a while she started to complain that
she was bursting, and that it was all my fault. Suddenly she stopped
dead, looked at me and said 'You bastard, I hope you're satisfied.' She
was still wearing her swimmers, which were dark blue with sky blue
panels and no crotch lining, and over them she had on a pair of Corfu
jeans. She simply looked at me as I watched the crotch of her jeans go
dark, as her pee wet the fabric. The stain started to run down her legs,
so she squatted down to make the pee run backwards and through to the
ground.

I could imagine her pee soaking the crotch of her swimmers as it pooled
inside her jeans, and it turned me on. Evidently it also broke the ice
with her, for when I suggested she couldn't go home like that and should
come and clean up, she agreed. The wet games that followed ended the
afternoon in the nicest way possible.

A girl I was trying to introduce to the practice of pants pissing was
reticent to try it, but I was very persistent. One day when I was at her
place I must have struck a chord somehow, as she said she would try it.
She was wearing a lycra gym bodysuit under her outer clothes, and she
went into the loo fully dressed. She left her shorts on as she stood
above the bowl and peed through her bodysuit. The pee ran down one leg
of her shorts and into the bowl. When she finished she came out and we
talked about it. She said it felt nice and warm, but that it smelled and
she wanted to change. As she took off her shorts I could see the wet
dark crotch of her bodysuit. She washed the shorts and hung them out to
dry, and then pulled on another pair. I asked why she didn't change her
bodysuit, but she simply replied that she wanted to wear that one.

That night we went to a party and raged on all through the night.
Because she'd already peed in the bodysuit once, when she needed to pee
again she just took off her shoes and peed in it again, and again. She
even slept in the bodysuit and didn't take it off until showering at
home the following afternoon. By then she said she could really smell
it!

Now I don't know whether she still does it, but that night she came
close to doing something I like to do myself, and I wish I could contact
women who also like it. That is to wear the one pair of knickers for as
long as possible without taking them off, and peeing through them
whenever I feel like it, or just need to go. The longest I have ever
managed was two days, and that was over a weekend, drinking lots of
water to keep my pee flowing copiously and diluted. I'd really like to
talk to the woman who can beat that!

I don't mind the smell of pee soaked pants, and although I'm conscious
of the fact that other people might smell it, I quite like it myself. I
sometimes wonder what female wetters think about this, the ones who like
pissing in pants rather than nappies. Why do they like it? Is it for the
same reasons as I do, or do women think differently? How do they start?

I know of a young girl who seems determined to be a pants pisser, and
she does it whenever her parents won't catch her. I caught her one day
and told her it was OK, and I didn't mind, so now she tells me about all
of her pants pissing incidents. She even gets other girls she knows to
do it but she's got into trouble for that, and now only gets them to pee
in their swimmers at the pool.

I've been re-reading, the Picture article, and I really have to control
myself right now, as I only have one pair of jeans left that aren't in
the wash or unwearable because I've peed in all the others. The article
has given me new resolve and daring. After rehearsals (I'm a muso), I
get to my car and just let go a powerful squirt for the sheer fun of it,
and the feeling of having the pee soak though my underpants and spread
inside my jeans. I've got to watch how much I pee in the car, or it will
start to smell, and I'm afraid one of my occasional passengers may
'smell a rat'.

The other night at a friend's place, I was discussing this very subject
when she said something like she didn't know how I could do it (pee in
my pants). I offered to do it for her right then, and asked 'Would it be
obvious, would it show?' I told her it wouldn't, as my jeans were dark,
so she said OK. I related a story to her of how I had demonstrated pants
pissing to another female friend of mine, and when I got to the crucial
bit I got up, stood with my legs apart, bent my knees, and pissed a hard
squirt into my pants. When I'd peed enough to make a little puddle on
the floor, I showed her how the material, though wet was not
significantly darker, and how I'd managed to avoid any running down my
legs. Just takes practice!

Later on, when I was about to leave, I asked her if she wanted to see me
really piss myself, and when she said yes I walked with her to my car,
turned to face her, then slowly emptied my bladder down the legs of my
jeans. I think I may have got her interested, as she said she thought
she could do it. When she tried however, she discovered that she
couldn't pee standing up, and so squatted down and let go in her denim
shorts, saturating the seat of them. She said that even though it was
nice feeling, she didn't know if she would get into the habit.

I also have a younger female friend who at the time of this story was
about 18. Tracy and I were with a group staying in a caravan near the
beach on South Stradbroke Island, and one day we were all out walking
along, the beach. We had been walking for a long time, and Tracy and I
had fallen back talking. The others were a long way ahead, and we were
walking about knee deep in a tidal pool, both in swimmers, she in a one
piece blue thing with beautifully high cut legs and narrow shoulder
straps - it looked a bit like a ballet leotard. In fact it might have
been, since she was a ballet dancer. Anyway, we were part way through
the pool when the water must have reminded me that I needed to pee. I
said as much, and asked if she would mind if we stopped so I could do
it. She said OK, and stood to one side while I tried to pee, but I
couldn't. I didn't want to get all wet by squatting, in the water, but
having her stand there seemed to prevent me from going standing up.

I explained that I was having trouble and that I thought it was because
she was there, watching but not doing anything. At that point she said
she needed to go too, so I replied that it would probably help if she
did. She came over and stood with me, and after a short time started to
pee through her swimmers. I could hear the urine trickling from her
crotch, down her legs and into the water. On hearing that my bladder
finally let go, and so we stood there watching each other as we peed
through our swimmers into the pool. 'This was to be the only time Tracy
and I ever pissed in our pants together, although we swapped many
stories in the years to come.

To finish off this letter I'll just relate a couple of the things Tracy
has told me. At one time she was studying at Queensland University, and
had one particularly non stop day of lectures and tutorials. Towards the
end of the day she was really bursting, and bolted out to the toilets as
soon as the lecture finished. This day she was wearing a skirt and top
with a wide elastic belt, and was already starting to leak as she closed
the door to the cubicle. The anticipation made her start to pee before
she had a chance to get her pants down. She hitched her skirt up and
tried to get her fingers under the tight elastic to get her pants down,
but had completely forgotten that she had worn a leotard that day. She
frantically tried to pull her pants down, but by the time she had
realised her mistake, the pee was already running down her legs into her
shoes. She just couldn't stop the flow, and her panic was making it
worse. Finally she gave up, and sat down on the toilet and pissed her
whole bladder full into her pants.

That experience motivated her to experiment with ways of getting away
with 'accidents', and she started wearing thin pants and leotards which
could pee in successfully without making so much of a mess. She never
did quite get to the point of being mad about peeing in her pants, and I
think it's something you might have to learn when you are young. What do
the other readers think? I know one woman who thinks we're all mad - the
only time she has ever peed in her pants was out of necessity, a true
accident, and she thinks anyone who deliberately does such things needs
their head read.

I can assure you I will be a part of Wet Set, and I really hope to be
able to contact some women pants wetters in the Brisbane area. I want to
contribute as much as I can, and certainly look forward to interaction
with other readers. I've been repressed for too long, and it's time I
discovered what really makes people like me tick."