Pee shy in the public toilet

Girls can be pee shy as well as boys. Although we don’t have to expose ourselves in front of strangers, the thought that behind the cubicle wall is another person, and they can hear what we are doing is enough to make some sphincters stay tightly shut. Despite telling yourself that it’s a perfectly natural function, that every human being on the planet has to empty his or her bladder several times a day and that the person in the next cubicle is audibly peeing into the bowl seemingly without a care, such phobias can be impossible to overcome.
Flushing sometimes works – the sound of rushing water and the re-filling of the cistern covers any noise you might make. Dropping a wad of paper down the pan to muffle the sound of your stream is another way round the problem, or perching to one side of the seat so that the pee trickles down the porcelain. Waiting until the hand-dryers are roaring can also be effective. But sometimes none of these tricks are effective. There are too many people coming in and out. Your bladder may be uncomfortably full (if it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be in a public loo in the first place) but there is just no way it’s going to void its contents for everyone to hear. So you pull up your knickers, operate the flush and wash your hands as if you’d actually done something and as soon as you get through the exit that naughty bladder reminds you that it really needs to be emptied, even more forcefully than it did before you made the abortive trip.
How can you beat this phobia? Sometimes if you wait until you are absolutely bursting – almost at the point of wetting yourself – then rush back to the toilets, the urgent need to go overcomes the shyness.
This carries its own risks. What if there’s a queue when you get there? Imagine the embarrassment of being the girl who’s crossing her legs and trying not to squirm, conscious that everyone’s attention is drawn to your unfortunate predicament. They may have been in a similar situation at some point in their lives, but do any of them offer you their place in the queue? Of course not. Some of them may be witnessing your discomfort and congratulating themselves on their foresight in finding a loo before they’ve reached such extreme desperation. If you were elderly, or very young, they might take pity, but when you are of an age where you should know better, why should they give up their place? Some might suppose you are over dramatising your plight, purely to queue jump. They certainly aren’t going to be fooled by such antics! Others may be wondering if you are going to make it in time, or whether you will end up standing in a puddle on the floor. ‘Perhaps she’s already wet herself a little bit,’ they might think. ‘Can she hold on long enough to get in the cubicle? Will the next flush, or the sound of a tap running, or someone else’s bursting bladder relieving itself loudly into the toilet bowl send her over the edge?’
Of course, trying to second guess what they are thinking makes you guilty of putting your own thoughts into their presumably innocent heads. For if you hadn’t left it so late, if you were waiting in the queue quite happily and you noticed a girl trying to conceal her evident desperation you couldn’t help but put yourself in her place, knowing all too well the frantic fluttering of the tired sphincter, the dull heaviness of liquid weight pressing down and the pangs of urgency as bladder walls contract sharply. Then there’s the awful moment when you know you’re going to lose control, and you try and you try to hold it in, but…. It’s just a spurt, but it’s the beginning of the end. There’s the hot shame of the soggy gusset. You try to make a surreptitious check to see if anything shows on the outside yet. There’s still two in the queue ahead. What the hell are they all doing in there? Can’t they hurry up. Please hurry up.
Your vision blurs as your bladder, having achieved a brief release, increases its liveliness and oh no, oh no, please… Even here, in public, you try the last resort of the utterly desperate and crouch over, a hand clamped into your crutch, trying frantically to stem the flow but it’s coming now and it’s not just a dribble this time its more than that its Niagara Falls and your hand is all wet as urine floods your knickers and a dark patch spreads beneath helpless fingers, streaking the legs of your tight jeans.
‘She’s wetting herself.’ someone says and all you can do is stand there red-faced as your bladder wins the game of chance, unable to stop, where only a short while ago you couldn’t start.

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Female Desperation Panty Peeing & Pissing Story

A Nice Hot Piss Story I Came Across Enjoy
As I got out of the car, I sprinted to the house. When I reached the front step and extended my hand to turn the knob, I almost ran right into the door. It was locked. I knocked. I pounded. I stood, legs crossed and half doubled over in pain. If I didn’t get to a bathroom soon, I was going to pee my pants. I rummaged around inside my purse trying to find my house key. I felt tears forming as the panic set in. I couldn’t find it. I turned it upside down and dumped everything out right there on the front step. It wasn’t anywhere to be found. I bit my lip as I looked around. No cars were in the neighbors driveways. I looked up and down the street, no cars. No one walking their dog. No kids riding their bicycles. I looked over to the corner of our yard where the big Oak tree was. I couldn’t believe what I was contemplating.
As my bladder overflowed, I felt a small trickle down my leg and knew I didn’t really have a choice. It was either go behind the tree or pee my ppanties. A little wet spot was one thing, but soaking wet panties was quite another. “Ok, here goes,” I thought to myself. I bent over to collect my things and put them back into my backpack. The pressure of bending over caused a little more pee to escape. I clamped my thighs together and began hobbling across the yard. Once I reached the Oak tree, I moved behind it and checked all directions. The coast was clear. I lifted up my skirt and pulled my panties to the side. I squatted down and with watchful eyes, emptied my exploding bladder on to the grass. I could hear the loud hissing sound as I pissed all over the ground. A large puddle was forming, and I could feel some splashing up onto my ankles. The relief was so great that I felt light headed. I couldn’t believe how bad I had to go and wondered when it was going to stop. I actually started to smile a bit when I realized how long I had been squatting there. Once the powerful stream subsided and turned to a trickle, I began to shake my bottom back and forth trying to shake off any last drops. I pulled my panties back over and stood up, smoothing out my skirt. I noticed how wet they were from the first two accidents and adding to it, the wetness left from my pissing behind the tree. I walked across the yard as I thought about what I had just done. At first I felt disgusted by what I had done, but what choice did I have? Pee my pants? As I thought about that, I realized how much I enjoyed the feeling of having wet panties. “What is wrong with me?” I thought. I could feel my face get warm and my heart began to pound a little. “What the hell? Why am I getting turned on now?” I asked myself. Suddenly, I remembered that my roommate had said she was working late tonight, which explains why the door was locked.
“Shit. How am I going to get in now?” I wondered. I looked around and decided to try my neighbor, John, across the street. We had given him a key a few months ago in case of emergency. I quickly walked across the street and knocked on his door. A moment later, he opened the door, smiling. I asked him if he still had our key because I was locked out. He said yes and invited me in while he looked for it. He went into the kitchen and I could hear him rummaging around in one of the drawers. “Would you like something to drink Emma? Your face is all red, you look like you’ve been outside for hours.” “Water would be good, thanks!” I answered, wondering why I was still blushing. When John came in and handed me the glass of water, I noticed he had a big bulge in the front of his pants. He must have seen me looking because he just stood there watching me while I hid behind my glass of water. I didn’t want him to stare at me, so I continued to drink the water so I could hide behind the glass. “You WERE thirsty! Would you like another?” he asked. I cleared my throat and looked down at the floor. I played with my sock so I didn’t have to make eye contact with him and told him yes, I would like more to drink. I was so relieved when he walked out of the room, but that didn’t last long. He returned in what seemed like only seconds with another glass of water. He stood directly in front of me as I sat on the couch and drank my water. I could see through the glass that the bulge I thought I had seen was not only there, but was now very prominent.
“Like what you see?” he asked. I almost choked and water came spewing out of my mouth. “Hmmm, that’s the second time in five minutes I’ve seen you squirt water out of your body like that.” My heart pounded in my chest and my head spun. “Oh my God. Did he just say what I think he said? Oh my GOD. Did he see me?” My mind raced with these thoughts and I began to panic. I looked up at him and he was grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” I felt a wave of relief wash over me. It was short lived, however, because John dropped his hand down to the bulge in his pants. My heart started pounding again. “I won’t tell anyone, IF you do something for me,” he grinned, rubbing his cock through his shorts. I figured he was hinting at a blow job. I was not normally one to shy away from an opportunity like this, but it just seemed strange. He was my neighbor! Instead, he said “I want to watch you piss, Emma.” “WHAT?” I croaked out. “That’s right. I want to watch you squat down and piss for me. And as you piss noisily, I am going to stroke my big fat cock.” While contemplating the situation, my mind wandered to my pee soaked panties and I noticed a new dampness that wasn’t there before. I realized that the thought of pissing in front of someone was making my pussy wet. “OK. I’ll do it,” I said. He held out his hand and I took it. Instead of leading me into the bathroom, he brought me into his kitchen. He patted the counter and said “Up”. I jumped up and sat on the counter. “No, no, no. I want you to squat for me. Up on your feet, my little pee girl,” he instructed. I did what I was told and he brought over a martini glass, placing it directly under my pussy. He stood back and pulled his cock out of his pants. It was purple and dripping wet. I could see how turned on this was making him, so I decided to enjoy it. I pulled up my skirt and pulled my panties down just a bit. I felt my face burn as he saw the wet panties. He let out a soft groan and began fucking his cock into his hand. I opened up my cunt lips and bit my lip. I began to push and within a few seconds, I was pissing for him. I was squatting on my neighbors counter pissing into a martini glass and he was masturbating his monster cock to the sight of it.
“How did I get here?” I asked myself. Then, I realized that I didn’t care. I actually liked pissing for him. In fact, I LOVED it. I loved that he was watching me urinate. I love that he called me his little pee girl, and I wanted to do it more. When I noticed that the martini glass was overflowing on to the counter, I stopped short and decided to take the lead with this new game. I hopped off the counter and squatted right there on his kitchen floor. A yellow puddle began to form on the floor. Again, I stopped. His eyes were as big as saucers now as he realized what my plan was. I walked into the living room and he followed – cock in hand. I squatted down right in the middle of his living room and pissed on his carpet. When I was satisfied, I stood up and walked down the hall. As I walked, I pissed. I left a tinkle trail down his hall and went into the dining room. I pulled out one of the chairs and sat. I leaned back and spread my legs and pussy open. I pushed hard, and this time, a golden arch sprayed out of my pussy. I looked over at him and he was jacking his cock frantically. I could see giant drops of precum flying from his cock. I stood up, looked at my dining room pee stain and realized I was almost empty. “Any preferences?” I asked him. He lay down under me and said “Yeah, right here,” and pointed to his cock. I stood over him and spread my pussy open. “Ready John? Ready for your little pee girl to piss right onto your cock?” I asked him. He didn’t reply, just stared at my pussy and pumped his cock. “One, two…..THREE!” I began pissing all over my neighbours cock. The moment he felt my hot liquid hit his cock, he shot off. Some landed on my leg, some actually reached my pussy and the rest just went up into the air and landed in various spots. “Now it’s my turn,” he said. I found that the thought of getting pissed on was also tremendously exciting and wanted more than anything to be on the receiving end. I got on my knees and knelt before him, arching my back. Within just a few seconds I felt his HOT piss splashing all over my tits. He aimed it at my pussy, my stomach, my tits, my legs, and my hair. By the time he was done, I was absolutely soaked. My clit was pounding and I needed some relief. I brought my hand to my pussy and began rubbing myself. “Up here” John said and pointed to the dining room table. I got on the table and he instructed me to get on my hands and knees and turn around. I did as I was told and without warning, he began ramming his fingers into my sopping wet pussy hole. I looked down and saw that little droplets of his piss were dripping off my body onto the table. I felt my pussy stretch open as he added two more fingers to his assault. “You like that, you little piss slut?” he asked. I couldn’t even talk. My head was spinning. I was covered in piss and begging for my cunt to be pounded. I nearly passed out when I came and collapsed when I was finished. When he finally pulled his hand out of my pussy, I felt empty. But, I loved it. I loved the whole experience.
I gathered my things, thanked John for giving me the key and headed back home. I went into the bedroom to start getting cleaned up, but as I walked past the mirror, the reflection caught my attention. My hair was wet and stringy, my eye makeup was smeared and my lipstick had been all but rubbed off. I looked beautiful. I continued to the bathroom and turned the shower on, smiling to myself, as I began replaying the afternoon’s events in my mind. It’s funny how some days do not end up anything like you had expected them to.
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Filed under: Piss Stories
Posted on 07.30.08
Comments: 2 Comments

Tags: pissing story

Tammys Panties

Submitted by fetish25, Bi Male - london

I developed my panty fetish early in life when I discovered my sister's lingerie drawer. Like most young males, I began to discover masturbation around puberty. Discovering my sister's panty drawer added a whole new dimension to my methods of masturbation. The feel of satin drove my dick wild. I would either wrap her panties around my dick or jack off, or I would put the panties on a pillow and fuck them until I came. I visualized girls in my class or women I saw during the day while jacking off with my sister's panties.

As I got older I began to filch panties from other women and use their panties to masturbate. Generally I would visualize the owner of the panties I swiped and spend hours in my room making myself come several times. My appetite for panties seemed to have no end. The more panties I had the more I would masturbate. This habit lasted through my college years and beyond. Needless to say I had quite a collection of women's underwear. It was a habit that eventually led me to get caught by my best friend's wife.

Mike has been my best friend since third grade. We were both popular in high school and had many girlfriends. My panty fetish did not keep me uninterested in girls and was mainly a source of release by way of masturbation. It was a secret only known to me. A secret that would certainly bring great humiliation if I got caught masturbating with women's panties.

After Mike's first marriage failed, it didn't take him long to jump right back into marriage again. His second wife Tammy was a goddess. She is about 5'10'' blonde hair, blue eyes, and has a body to die for. The only thing I found somewhat strange was her exceptionally large hands. Her hands were not masculine by any means, but larger than mine. Tammy was not only beautiful, but also much cooler than Mike's first wife.

I was dating a girl named Maria at the time of their marriage. Tammy and Maria hit it off right away, so we all spent a lot of time together. We would go out on double dates and, since my house was about thirty minutes away, Maria and I would spend the night at their house if we had a late night. I caught many glimpses of Tammy in sexy lingerie or t-shirt and panties. My fascination for her grew every time I witnessed such a wonderful site.

One weekend we got back to mike and Tammy's house late and I was too drunk to drive home. Maria had to visit with her folks the next day and decided to go home, but I decided to crash at Mike and Tammy's. Mike coached soccer and had to leave early the next morning for practice, but he said it was cool if I slept in and he would see me afterwards. Tammy mentioned that she had some errands to run the next morning too, but that I could just make myself at home as usual.

Since I am now in my late twenties, I don't masturbate as much as I use to, but my affection for panties hadn't dwindled in the least. The next morning however, I woke up with a raging hard on. Since I knew no one was supposed to be there that morning, I decided a quick wank session was in order since Maria hadn't stayed over with me. The only problem was that I needed a little visual stimulation or something else to get me going. Mike had long since thrown out nudie magazines and porn would be too hard to find. Suddenly an idea popped into my head. I would check the laundry room for some of Tammy's panties. I would have just gone to her room and went drawer shopping, but the laundry room was in the basement right down the hall from the extra bedroom.

To my delight it was easy to find a pair of Tammy's panties. There was a sexy green pair right on top. I pulled them up to my nose and took in her aroma. My dick got hard instantly. Not only were the panties themselves sexy, but the owner was an object of my desire as well. I wasted no time in wrapping those panties around my dick and started masturbating furiously. I was on the verge of blowing my load when, to my horror, I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I knew I should have either checked the house first or went back to the privacy of my room before I started, but in my haste and desire I did not. What a mistake!

When I turned around there was Tammy looking straight at me with a look of shock on her face. Here was my best friend's wife catching me with her panties wrapped around my dick in its full purpled-headed glory.

"What do you think you're doing Pete?" she said.

"I..I...I.." was all I could stammer.

"You should be ashamed of yourself! Do you like the way my panties feel on that little cock of yours?"

"What a little sissy you are jacking off in my panties. I never would of thought you were a little panty freak!"

"Tammy I...."

"Shut up", she screamed. "Wait until I tell mike and Maria what you were doing!"

"Please Tammy don't say anything I am sorry. I didn't mean...."

"Why shouldn't I tell them? Just give me one reason why I shouldn't expose you for what you are. A little sissy panty boy."

"Please. I'll do anything you want. Just please don't tell mike and Maria. They will be crushed!"

Suddenly a wicked little smile came across her face. "Well maybe I can have a little fun. A little fun never hurt anybody!"

"I want you to put those panties on." I was dumbfounded. "What?".

"You heard me you little dick sissy. Put those panties on so you can feel what it's like to be a panty boy. I know you're dying to see what they feel like against that little prick of yours. Hurry up or I will be forced to tell!"

By this time my dick had shriveled to nothing. I was completely embarrassed, but I couldn't let her tell my friend and girlfriend. So I slowly pulled the little green panties up on my waist. They were tight, but I managed to get them all the way on. The feel of the smooth satin against my dick soon made me realize that my dick was beginning to harden again. I was actually enjoying being dressed in women's panties.

Tammy noticed this and began to laugh. "See I knew you would enjoy it you little sissy!" just hearing those words come out of her mouth and the combination of her panties on my body was making my dick ache! My face turned beat red. And Tammy was enjoying every minute of my humiliation.

She slowly walked up to me and raised her t-shirt. "See now we both know what it feels like to wear panties." Seeing her in that little sexy string bikini was doing a number on me. My head began to feel a little light. What she did next completely blew my mind and my load. She reached down and began to rub my dick through the panties. Don't forget that I have said that her hands were large. Her hands completely swallowed my dick. "I would of thought your cock was bigger than this since I know you have had many girlfriends! You're not a man. You're a little sissy boy. My panty boy." I couldn't stand it any more. The combination of standing there in her panties and her comments about my dick sent me over the edge. I came all over the front of her panties. Again Tammy began to laugh at me. "A little dick and a premature ejaculator! How funny. You should be ashamed of coming on my panties, but I guess that's what you had in mind in the first place isn't it?"

"Now that you've made a mess of that pair of panties, I have something else for you to do. I want you to get down on your knees and clean up this other mess that you've made." With that statement she exposed her panties again and the crotch was soaking wet. Apparently the ability to humiliate me in this situation had caused an effect on her as well.

"I want you to like my pu.... more

A woman is door to door selling with a bursting bladder.

Some years ago I was involved in doing some work that involved going around from door to door knocking on stranger's doors and for want of a better way of putting it, selling magazines and books and trying to hold a conversation with the householders wherever possible. It was on a December morning, I was out working with about 8 or 9 other people, I was wearing a green knee length skirt, tights, a white jumper and a fairly long coat.

It wasn't very long before I felt the need to go, but it wasn't that bad so I wasn't too worried.
After about half an hour we had finished the assigned territory and most of the group decided they'd had enough and wanted to quit, but I needed to make my hours up and wanted to carry on working, as did David, the guy in charge of our group, David was a very UN-fancyable guy about 25 years older than me, but he was a kind hearted, mild tempered guy who was very good at the job and I was hoping to learn from him. So I found myself saying that I'd stay and work with him for a while, he seemed pleased about that and said we'd need to drive to another part of town about 10 minutes drive away that needed working, it was okay by me.
In his car he had a flask of tea which we shared before driving to the other side of town, I hadn't realised how much I actually had to go until I sat in his car, I could feel the increasing urge in my bladder and I hoped it would go away.

We got out of the car which made the feeling worse and the cold weather wasn't doing much to help either. David wasn't the kind of guy I felt I could confide in, he's a very "upright and proper" sort of guy and the idea of needing a pee while working wouldn't have gone down too well.
After about 20 minutes of going from door to door and doing our job, I could not ignore my fast growing need, I was unfamiliar with the area which was all residential and a quick glance around, I could see nowhere that I could slip away discreetly for a very badly needed pee.
Casually I asked how much longer he wanted us to work, my heart sank as he replied that he expected it to take about 2 hours because there was another area that needed working! He obviously noticed my dismay because he said that if I was cold we could have another cup of tea in his car as he had another flask. I said that I was OK - (I lied), but after another half an hour I was VERY desperate for the toilet and it was getting worse by the second, I was no longer able to concentrate on what the householders were saying and was hardly able to answer even their simplest of questions, or find the appropriate pages in the books. I could almost feel David's disapproval, but by now it was difficult to walk properly and almost impossible to stand still and to look composed on people's doorsteps.

The desperation was coming in almost uncontrollable waves now and I'd have given anything not to have been in that situation, I was almost in tears!
My brain kept rehearsing the words in my head to say something to David that how very desperate for the loo I was, how I wasn't sure I could hold on much longer, how I was having to fight real hard against wetting myself . . . but I couldn't . . . I just couldn't bring myself to admit my need, I was too embarrassed.
BUT, I did suggest I worked on the opposite side of the road from him (with the idea in mind to slip away somewhere unseen), but he said I wasn't qualified to work on my own yet, again he sensed my anxiety and asked if I was ok and my mind screamed out, 'NO! I'm NOT OK!! I'm so desperate for the loo I'm on the verge of wetting myself!! I cant hold it!!' But all that came out of my mouth was, 'yes, I'm ok, I'm just cold now'. David said that we'd just finish this street then and call it a day and I said OK, agreeing with him, hoping we wouldn't get into a lengthy conversation with a householder.
It was now taking every single ounce of strength and concentration I could muster to hold on and stop myself wetting, I longed to hold myself between my legs, I really did, but of course I couldn't.

It was a waking nightmare, the urges were getting just too strong to control now. I knew that I had two choices, I'd have to tell David the problem, or I knew that for certain that I was going to uncontrollably wet myself right there in the street. "Err David," I said, "I errr really need to get to a toilet right now."
My face was reddening both from embarrassment and from sheer desperation.
"Oh well, OK," he replied, "we've generated a fair bit of interest today, come on then, lets go." So we went back to the car and I had to stop walking twice and cross my legs for a few seconds to regain control.
In the car he seemed to take his time adjusting his interior car mirror, sorting through the unplaced literature etc., he didn't seem to realise how urgent my need was. I was sitting in his car my legs tightly clamped together gritting my teeth and fighting with every ounce of strength I had left to control my uncontrollable bladder. I was afraid to move, to talk, even to breathe properly!

He started the engine and we drove off, but to my horror I couldn't stop the spurts from escaping into my panties! I was terrified, then an uncontrollable urge hit me and I knew I was losing the fight, I knew I couldn't hold it anymore!
"STOP THIS CAR NOW!" I yelled. "What's up?" he replied looking puzzled.
"Oh just stop now and let me out, I'm sorry." I sobbed as I felt more warm liquid soak my bum. He pulled over and almost before he'd stopped, I had opened the door and nearly fell out of the car in my frantic attempts to try and hold on, but as I got out of the car, I completely and helplessly wet myself, it poured down my legs like a river and soaked the pavement at my feet! I just couldn't stop, it was gushing and hissing on its own, I had no control over it!
A few people stopped and stared, but I was way past the point of caring now - I couldn't have cared even if I'd wanted to.

In all due respect to David, he knew what was happening, but he totally ignored it and just dropped me off at my door. When I got inside my own home and recalled it I got very aroused and I rubbed myself to one of the best orgasms I've had in years, David respectfully never ever mentioned it again. Debra xx
E-mail Debra

Classroom Pissing bysteve25805©

I'm a female teacher who has just turned 30, and am proud of the fact that I'm generally regarded as pretty sexy, with my trim figure, shapely ass (so I'm told) and ample but not overly large breasts. I also have deep blue eyes and long blonde hair. I have smiled to myself on a couple of occasions after overhearing some of my young teenage pupils enthusing about my sexiness when they hadn't realised I was approaching.
I am a highly moral person in most respects, with compassion for the weak and downtrodden everywhere. I read the Guardian and am a Labour Party activist, and my colleagues seem to regard me as a highly respectable and principled person.
But I have a naughty secret! You see, I have a secret fantasy about wearing no panties in class, opening my legs whilst sat at my desk, and peeing right there all over the classroom floor in front of my entire class! Of course, if I did that for real word would rapidly spread, I'd be sacked and possibly prosecuted, I'd never get another teaching job again - career over - and I'd be thrown out of the Labour Party for bringing it into disrepute. My name and face would be all over the newspapers too. No, I cannot possibly let that happen. I do sometimes go pantyless in class for my own secret pleasure, but that is about all. And I make sure none of my pupils ever get a glimpse of anything under my skirt.
But although I cannot pee in front of my class I have finally done the next best thing. After all, if I am alone in the classroom who is there to see me do anything and spread the word around?
A couple of days ago at the end of the schoolday, as my pupils rushed out with the universal desire to get out of school as quickly as possible, I too exited the classroom. But after getting to my car and driving off, I realised that the homework I had wanted to mark was still in the desk drawer: I had forgotten it. So I turned around, drove back, and went back into the building. By this time no one was around except for a few teachers in the staff room, but I didn't walk past there. So I entered the classroom unseen, and was about to retrieve the homework when I decided that the peace and solitude of that classroom made it ideal for me to do the marking there. I knew where the emergency key was kept in case I got locked in so there was no potential problem.
As I set to work, with no panties on, I became increasingly aware of the growing need in my bladder. I actually needed a pee pretty badly. A naughty realisation then struck me: not only were there no witnesses, but nobody knew I was here at all! I could get away with fulfilling my fantasy now, albeit without the audience, and no one would ever know it was me who had made the mess on the floor! A frisson of excitement went through me as I made the decision to actually do it.
Pulling the back of my skirt above my ass, I eased myself forward in my chair, opening my legs so that my muff with it's trimmed blonde pubic hairs was positioned over the front edge of the chair. And then I just peed right there under the desk and all over the classroom floor! A gentle hiss and a very loud splashing sound echoed around the room as my piss cascaded down. This was such a total turn on and felt utterly incredible. Waves of pleasure were rushing through me as I peed.
As soon as the last of my pee splashed down I began to frantically rub myself, bringing myself to the best orgasm in years right where I sat.
Once I had recovered my composure, I stood and admired the mess I had made, a huge puddle of yellow-tinted pee covering a large area of the floor. I smirked at the sight of it for a few moments, then just walked out and left it there, aroused by the thought of the cleaner discovering it in the morning.
School assembly the next morning was interesting to say the least. The headmaster ranted about how someone had "done their business" on a classroom floor instead of using the toilet, that this was dirty and unhygienic, and had left a terrible mess for the cleaner. He said that if anyone had any information about who was responsible they should come forward. But I knew no one had seen me. And of course, it never crossed the headmaster's nor anyone else's mind that a teacher had actually done it! I struggled to suppress a smirk at this knowledge, and felt another frisson of excitement as I remembered what I had done.

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I'm a 20 year old college girl.

I'm a 20 year old college girl. Let's call me Chantal. It's not my real name 
but the story I'm about to tell is a little too personal to use my real name.
It's the story of my first experience with wetsex. There's a close friend of
mine involved in it as well. Let's call her Anne in this story. It's not her 
real name either. But she would kill me if I used her real name. She will 
probably kill me when she finds out I'm posting this anyway. She just might do
it less painful if I use a fake name. 
Anyway, I'm bisexual and at times I feel strongly attracted to her. She's 
straight, but knows about my feelings and she's ok with me cuddling her and all
that innocent stuff. I love her. I'm going to tell a story of what happened 
between the two of us one night after we had gone out together. We were both
18 back then and in our freshman year.


>start

Anne and I were walking home from the club we always go to. It was a warm night
in late September. I was feeling a little bit drunk...I used to drink a lot back
then.
I said: "Girl, I sure have to pee as soon as we get home!"
Anne replied: "Yeah me too!"
We walked for a while, talking about nothing. I started walking faster as we got 
closer to my home. I had to go really bad. After a few more minutes, we reached 
my front door and I went looking for my keys in my pockets. Anne noticed how 
hasty I was.

"What is it honey? You have to go bad?" she teased me. 
"YES!!" I replied. I was really bursting by then.
She moved up close behind me and started softly tickling my waist. I couldn't 
believe she was tickling me! She knew I am ticklish.
I yelled at her: "Dont do that!" 
But she started tickling harder. I started to piss my panties. I wanted to cut 
it off but I just started peeing harder instead. By the time I could stop the 
pee gushing out of my body, my jeans were all soaked.
We went inside. The fabric of my jeans was all warm and wet, sticking to my 
thighs. I like that feeling, but I also felt really emberrassed at the time and 
I took my jeans off. I wanted to fully undress and take a shower.
But then I saw Anne going into my bathroom. My heart started to beat faster at 
the idea of getting even with her. I ran over to her and took her by the hand. I 
pulled her away from the bathroom, into the kitchen. I pushed her down on the 
floor, my hands on her shoulders and my knees on both sides of her waist.
She yelled: "Let me go! I gotta pee!"
I just smiled.
I saw panic in her eyes and that really turned me on. I took one hand of her 
shoulder and pulled up her skirt...pulling it up all the way over her panties.
I started firmly rubbing over her belly, then over her panties. I cupped her 
crotch in my hand and squeezed. She kept screaming that she couldn't hold it any 
longer. And I kept rythmically squeezing.
I felt some hot pee gush into her panties...over my hand. But she stopped peeing
right away. She couldn't squat while lying on her back.
I put my hand back on her shoulder, leaned forward, kissed her forehead. I felt 
my bladder was still half full. I was way too excited to stop...I wanted more...
needed more! I closed my eyes. Pictured a toilet. I pressured. I started pissing
in my panties. Wetting her skirt and panties under me. I kept pissing until I 
was empty. And she was soaked.
I rolled off her. Anne stood up to run to the bathroom, but she really couldn't 
hold it in anymore. As soon as she got on her feet, her piss came gushing out. 
She decided to squat on me instead. She stood over me, her piss bursting out of
her body, gushing from under her skirt, falling on my tits. My sweater got 
soaked and I felt the hot pee running over my boobs.

When she was done, I told her to undress and take a shower. I cleaned the 
kitchen floor and threw all our clothes in the washer. Then I joined her in the 
shower. I looked her in the eye. She looked back, emberrassed. She said she was 
sorry for getting my pants wet in the first place. I blushed. I told her that I 
actually liked it. Apologized for getting her clothes wet too instead of just
letting her go to the bathroom. She admitted that she had been turned on at the 
front door, watching me while I had to pee so bad. That she had tickled me out
of sexual excitement. I walked up to her and took her in my arms. Kissed her 
ear. Told her that I didn't blame her for anything. Asked her if she blamed me.
She didn't.

We haven't had wetsex ever since. Anne and I don't have sex at all. I'm engaged
to a guy now. All that remains is a real naughty memory that we share. Nobody 
else knows about it. And my fiance can only guess why I like wetsex so much.

Tammys Panties

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Great Desperation Story

This story is a little bit long, but 100% worth it. I found this on another female desperation site. Please Enjoy.


The wind whistled through Amber's hair as she drove her red convertible down the interstate; her long brunette hair flowing in the slipstream as the sun shone overhead, the blue sky clear that Saturday afternoon. The dial read 75, the speed limit sign read 60, but Amber kept on speeding, the traffic was light and the highway smooth. Grimacing, she pushed the pedal further, up to 80. She took a last sip from her quart of water, tossing the empty bottle into the passenger seat beside her. She clenched her legs together as best she could while she drove, her bladder swollen full with pee. Amber was desperate, her bladder sending SOS signals, her tummy swollen, her tight tan khaki slacks pressing against the fullness inside of her, shrieks of pressure pulsing through the 19 year old college sophomore's body as she clenched her muscles tight, clamping her urethra shut, trying not to think about the stinging sensation of pee dying to escape her tormented body.

A few miles more, and she'd be home, and did she ever need the bathroom, badly. Amber looked wistfully at the exit signs, wishing she had taken a pee back at lunch, wishing the bathroom hadn't have been closed for cleaning. She tried to take her mind off of her extreme need; she thought of the wonderful lunch, her friend Stacey had come into town for the afternoon and they had spent a good hour and a half, eating, drinking ice teas, sharing good memories from their earlier years. A fitness fanatic, Amber always drank water, and lots of it. Her size 3 body, all 5 feet and 5 inches of it with slender hips, a flat stomach, shapely, slightly muscular legs to die for, she had been quite popular during her high school days and during her freshmen year in college, but as her schedule got busier, she found less time to date, to many a guy's dismay. Her athletic and slightly smaller busted figure got looks; that was for sure. More than one car honked and stared as she passed car after car on the interstate, trying to drive faster without garnering attention, trying to get home before she urinated into her pants. Her urge increased, the pressure unyielding. Amber tightened her muscles again. Only a few more miles, the shopping center near her house lay ahead on the right.

Slowing down, she headed towards the exit. Her cell phone rang; luckily she was at the light, waiting to turn right when she heard it. With her legs clenched together, in extreme agony, her bladder pounding inside of her taut body, Amber answered, trying valiantly to hold back the pee swollen inside of her. "Hello?"

"Hi, Amber?"

"Yea, is this Laura?" Laura was her manager at the family restaurant she worked for part time.

"Hey, I'm glad I got you. We're really short on help. Victor went home sick and Lisa didn't show up again. I really need you to work tonight, can you help me out?"

"Uh, sure, but I don't have my uniform with me. No, wait, I've got tan slacks, but my shirt is back home." Amber wished the damned light would change; her body was on the verge of urinating right where she was, and she tried to hold it with more effort, her legs tight, and her breathing shallow. The light turned green. Finally. Amber almost wet her pants as she released her legs slightly and pressed down on the accelerator.

Laura answered. "Don't worry about the uniform, I've got a spare shirt somewhere. Just come on in right away, I need you bad. I'll make it up to you, I promise!"

Amber agreed, knowing she needed the night off for the concert next weekend and this would be perfect bargaining material. It never hurt when the general manager owed you one. "Ok, I'll be right over, I'm just a block away, anyway." Amber drove the block down the street, thinking work was closer than home and given how badly she needed to pee, she could use the bathroom before she completely wet herself in her new car. Another light, and Amber was squirming. Her bladder violently contracted and she almost peed into her slacks, barely holding on, the pee urge so extreme she trembled with fear. She hadn't had to pee so badly in ages. Finally. Green. She turned left into the parking lot, locked her car, and ran into the restaurant, her bladder screaming its last desperate signals, her need to pee at the peak of desperation. "Hi," Amber yelled, heading straight for the bathroom. "I gotta pee, I'll be out in a second!"

"Hold on", Laura yelled, "Here's your shirt. Change while you're in there." Amber stood for a second, her knees locked together, her body violently throbbing; pee inches from exploding out of her. Another few seconds was all she thought she could hold on. Laura got the shirt, and Amber grabbed it and ran to the ladies room, about to explode. She got in, and both stalls were busy. Two trickles of pee, the sound of someone else relieving him or herself not helping the situation. Amber stood there, almost crying, the pain of her desperation so intense, with her body somehow knowing how physically close she was to a toilet made it worse, she almost started peeing into her pants but managed at the last minute to squeeze ever harder, her fingers jammed into her pee hole, holding back the flow. Two flushing sounds, and Amber almost lost it again, violently shaking with desperation, on her very last stand, about to have an accident. Two young girls exited, glancing at Amber, giggling, obviously noticing how badly she needed to go, and went to wash their hands. Amber rushed into the right most stall, undoing her belt and sliding her tight tan slacks down her hips in one fluid motion. Racing against the agony inside of her, she quickly pulled her panties off, and before she was even fully seated, a quick jet of hot pee exploded out of her clenched urethra, followed by a brief pause and then a stream of hot thrashing pee gushed from her pee hole, unable to be contained by the struggling girl any longer. She sat there and sighed, pee screaming out of her swollen body, gushing noisily into the water of the bowl. She wondered if anyone outside the restroom could hear her go. One and a half minutes later, her pee stream dwindled down; a sense of relief came over Amber's face. She had miraculously avoided a major accident, seconds away from almost having peed into her pants. She sighed a breath of relief, wiped around her trimmed dark pubic mound and pulled up her panties and slacks. She changed into her uniform shirt, a little small for her, and headed out, but not before grabbing an extra large Coke for the evening. She needed some caffeine to get her in the working mood. It was 3:00 in the afternoon already, and the restaurant was packed.

--------------------------------------------------------

It was no wonder they needed her help. By 4pm they had already broken the sales record for that day and Amber had been running around like crazy. Fueled with constant caffeine, she somehow managed to handle her section, all seven tables of it. The tips were pretty good, she was averaging 25% of her sales, but she knew it would be a long night. Missing two servers and having another call in sick meant more work for the remaining crew, and probably not a lot of breaks for them either. The hostess, a pretty young high school senior named Isabelle who was quite popular with the cooks, came by with a party of 5. Amber approached the table. Families with screaming kids- she hated that. While the mom tried to settle down junior, she served them water and menus, introduced herself and grabbed an order of fajitas for Carlene, one of the other servers working. The busy pace kept Amber from realizing what had become a familiar sensation that day. The quart of water she had drank earlier along with the Coke she was sipping as she ran around made their way through her body, her bladder again slowly filling. By 4:30pm, Amber had to pee badly, the days drinking once again taking their toll on the athletic girl. Looking around, Amber saw Isabelle seat a party of 12 at two tables at the far end of her section. Wishing she could take a quick bathroom break to relieve herself, she had no choice but to head to the newly seated group. A coach, an assistant, and a small cheerleading squad, all dressed in their white and blue uniforms, giggling and carrying on. Amber knew one of the kitchen guys would love this; he had a fantasy about cheerleaders. Trying to put the thoughts of her filling bladder in the background of her mind, Amber started taking the tables' order. By the time she finished, five of the girls had changed their order and one of them didn't want anything, and then at the last minute decided she wanted a salad. A slightly tubby one, Amber thought, she probably wanted to lose weight and look like the other girls, who mostly were quite attractive. Amber keyed the order into the computer and glanced at the time. 4:45pm. She looked around, really needing a bathroom break, the familiar pressure returning, the slight beginnings of stinging inside her tummy that signaled a full bladder. She headed off to the bathroom, thinking she had a spare minute when the coach of the table called her back. "Yes," Amber asked, slightly frazzled, wishing she could have gone to the restroom.

"I'm so sorry. Sarah ordered Iced Tea and she wants to switch to water. I'm so sorry to trouble you, but could you get it for her now?" the coach asked, nicely.

"Sure, I'll be right back". Amber went to the drink station, now recognizing her body's need for urinary relief, her tummy slightly distended against the tight waistband of her low-rise tan slacks. As she was there, table #4 called out.

"Miss. Miss. Oh, I'm sorry, but my steak was supposed to be medium rare and it's well done. Can you see if the kitchen could do something about it?"

Amber walked by, putting on her best fake smile. "Sure, I'm so sorry. I'll be right back." She winced as she felt her bladder quickly filling. 5:00pm now, the dinner rush was starting, and she needed to use the bathroom quite badly now. She knew she'd have little chance of escaping if she didn't get there soon. Dinner was crazy and half the time the customers were lined up for the bathroom anyway. Getting the water and returning the steak to the kitchen, she stopped by table #4 and assured them they'd re-cook the steak, this time the right way. Back to the cheerleaders at table #7- handing the short girl that must have been Sarah the water, Amber turned around. Table #3 was waiting to check out. Good. The register was near the bathrooms; she'd get their ticket, take a quick bathroom break and then get back to work. A perfect plan. On the way to the computer, Table #4 signaled again. She backtracked; getting annoyed now, her bladder complaining, waves of pressure starting to flow through her body. She really needed to pee!! "Yes?"

"I'm sorry, but I ordered steak fries and this is obviously mashed potatoes!" The kitchen was overworked and screwing everything up today.

"I'm sorry. We're a bit understaffed today but I'll be happy to bring you fries," she said with a smile, wishing she could add "and you're probably going to make me pee my pants by your stupid requests," as she hurried back to the kitchen, plate in hand. Crap. She had forgotten to check out table #3, who was looking for her now. Table #4's steak was ready too. The coach at table #7 had his hand up. "Damn. DAMN," she muttered under her breath at nobody in particular.

Carlene was standing nearby, checking out one of her tables. "What's a matter?" she asked.

"I've got to pee so bad I'm about to bust and my tables are being a pain," Amber replied, wincing as she felt a surge of pressure expand through her. Her bladder was filling up near the limit; the same stinging sensations she had felt on the highway over returned, and very soon Amber was desperate, needing once again to use the bathroom very, very badly.

She checked table #3 out, and then got the steak for table #4, then wishing in vain she could go pee, she headed off to table #7. The coach again- "I'm sorry, but we're kind of in a rush. Could you tell me when the food is going to be ready?"

"I'm sorry for the delay, sir, but I'll go ask the kitchen and find out. Be right back," she smiled, putting on her best server smile. Her bladder screaming inside of her, she walked quickly by the hallway leading to the bathrooms, almost stopping, but thought she could get a quick break after she took care of pain in the ass coach. The kitchen just delivered the food for table #7, so she balanced as much of it as she could, Carlene helping with the rest, and the two walked back to the table of cheerleaders, who quickly dived into their meals. Even the coach, for once, seemed happy. "God, I need to go pee or I'm going to wet on myself!!!!!" Amber whispered to Carlene.

"Yea, I know, I'm about to pee in my pants too. I get a break in five minutes though," Carlene replied, whisking off to another table.

Looking around, Amber realized for a moment that nobody needed her. Table #5 looked about ready to leave, but they could wait, and she really, really needed to use the restroom before something embarrassing happened. Walking quickly to the bathroom, she got to the hallway. Of course, as it always happened, three of the cheerleaders were outside the door, squirming, looking desperate. A line. Just then Amber heard table #5 call her name. "Damn Damn DAMN!" she cursed a little louder than she should have- stupid line for the bathroom. She walked down to table #5, only to be stopped at table #3, who had not left yet.

"Miss, There's been a mistake on our check. My husband got charged for two coffees and he only drank one." Amber smiled, picked up the check and apologized, trying not to show her anger. If she JUST could get to the fricking bathroom, she thought. Her bladder pulsated inside of her, wave after wave of pressure spasms appearing every few minutes, her urine filling and stretching her bladder worse than ever before. Amber was getting nervous, her tummy visibly stuck out, the waistband of her slacks biting into her skin, her urethra tense, her desire to void so strong she feared she would have an accident any minute. Table #5. Yes.

"Yes, are you guys ready to check out now?" she asked, trembling as she dealt with a huge onslaught of stinging pain that emerged from inside of her, her bladder once again signaling "Emergency, Emergency." Amber really had to pee, the pressure now as bad as when she had driven into the parking lot. Right after table #5 cashed out, she thought, and then she could go relieve herself. "Shouldn't have drank so much water, damn it," she thought, squirming as she cashed out table #5 at the register. She glanced over at the bathrooms- no line. "Great," she said out loud, again to nobody in particular. She walked quickly back to table #5, handed them their change. They smiled, left a nice tip, and left. She looked around. A break, she thought. Carlene came down out of the bathrooms, headed to her own section. Amber bumped into her.

"Wow, that was close," Carlene whispered, giggling.

"What?" Amber asked, wondering what happened.

"I almost peed myself! I mean, I couldn't hold it and just got in there in time. Can you imagine how embarrass..." CRASH. A loud explosion-like sound rocked through the restaurant. Carlene dropped her tray in surprise, both girls turning around to look at the direction where the noise came from.

"What the hell?" Amber asked.

"I don't know. What's going on?" Carlene and Amber headed down the hallway near the bathrooms, Ambers intense desperation increasing, so she was headed that way anyway. "Oh my God," Carlene gasped. Water was pouring out between the two bathrooms, a crack in the wall had appeared.

Laura, the GM was over there next. "Oh Shit!"

"What?" the girls replied in unison, Amber about to pee on herself in agony.

"The water main just blew. I was supposed to have it repaired last week, but they couldn't come out until tomorrow."

"What?"

"Damn. Carlene, go call our maintenance emergency number, tell them we lost the water main and both bathrooms are flooded, and tell them to get over here quick," Laura ordered.

Amber froze. She had to know. "Did, uh, did you say both bathrooms are closed?" her voice squeaking higher in paranoia. She needed to use the bathroom as badly as she ever had in her life, easily as badly as she had earlier that day, and if the bathrooms were out of order...

"Yea, and we'll have to shut down if we can't get then open in an hour. Health violation. Maintenance should get here pretty quick though, shouldn't be a problem. What a mess though- I'm going to lock the doors so nobody goes in the restrooms until we fix this," and Laura went off, locking both doors, her shoes and the bottom of her slacks soaked in water from the broken water main. Amber started to shake. She was on the verge of wetting herself, barely able to control the pulsating pressure inside of her struggling body. She NEEDED to use the bathroom SO badly.

"Oh God. Oh GOD," she cried, clenching her legs together. Carlene came back.

"The maintenance guys are on their way. Amber, are you alright?"

"Carlene, I really need to pee. I'm serious, I'm about to pee on myself and now the bathrooms are closed!!!" Amber wailed, totally desperate and in panic, her intense desperation reaching new moments of pain, her urethra seemingly burning, her tummy completely distended, the stinging pain coming in spasms, her body clenched, keeping her ocean of pee inside.

"Don't worry, they'll be here soon and you can go. Just hold it, like we had to in track last year," Carlene said, trying to reassure her friend. Amber grimaced, and standing there with her legs locked together, she tried to hold on, barely able to control the tremendous urge that was overcoming her.

"Miss..." table #7 again. The Coach. Amber turned around, wiped off the sweat that was forming on her forehead from her agonizing distress, and walked carefully, trying not to pee in her clothes, down to table #7.

"Yes?" she warbled, her voice distorted as she fought off a violent surge that almost caused her to uncontrollably release her hot urine into her clothes.

"We've been wanting to check out for the past five minutes. And Melissa here needs to go to the bathroom, can you tell me why you've got it locked?" Melissa looked to be the oldest one, a senior, and her hands were clutched up her cheerleading skirt; her face agonized with pain, obviously needing to go pee as well.

"I'm sorry sir, but we've had a water main break, and the bathrooms won't be open for another half hour at the earliest," Amber replied, dying inside as she totally knew what the poor cheerleader was going through.

"Whwhwhhaatt?" the high school senior cried, obviously in the worst desperation.

"She said they are closed, dear. You're 18 years old, not some little girl. Hold it and go when we get back to the gym," the coach replied.

"IiiII can't, oh God," screamed the girl, her face red with embarrassment and anguish. "Oh noooNOOOOO," the girl wailed, and Amber froze as she glanced down. The girl stood there, legs together, her skirt held up, her hands trembling as she tried to hold the cheerleading skirt out of the way, in a panic, and Amber saw the girls blue cheerleading trunks suddenly darken, a stain spreading, the girls public mound obvious as the tightness of the lycra fabric hugged her engorged girlhood, wetness escaping. Slight pee streams trickled down the girl's muscular legs, increasing in strength until the girl suddenly peed uncontrollably into her cheerleading outfit, a loud sizzling noise coming from between her legs. The girl spread her legs, embarrassed, crying, letting her skirt drop. Pee gushed from the 18 year old, streaming down onto the floor, a puddle between her legs, her cheerleading shoes wet, her bare thighs glistening with her own urine. Amber almost peed onto herself then and there; the sight of another girl having an accident in front of her reminded her how BADLY she needed to go. She HAD to hold on. She felt so sorry for the poor girl who stood there, pee dripping from her, embarrassed in front of 9 of her friends and her coaches, having just wet herself at an age when that wasn't supposed to happen. Carlene walked over and gasped in horror, seeing the puddle between the cheerleader's legs. She ran back to the kitchen and grabbed a mop. Amber fought another wave of pressure, realizing now the emergency desperation SHE faced, and cashed the coach and his table out. The other cheerleaders were consoling the poor girl, who was still crying and sobbing uncontrollably as droplets of pee dropped from her body along the floor out of the restaurant.

"MMMMM," Amber moaned, bending over part way, trying to keep her pee inside. Her body DESPERATELY wanted to urinate, and seeing the girl's accident made it so much worse. Amber knew she was going to lose control if she didn't take drastic action. Maybe she could go in a cup outside in the parking lot. That might do it, she thought. She headed back to the kitchen when Isabelle seated Table #6 with an attractive young woman, maybe in her mid 20's, dark auburn hair and freckles, wearing a pair of black leggings, low-rise, riding her hips. A black sports bra on top and a purse, the woman had obviously been working out or something. Table #5 was seated too, with a pair of teenage girls, giggling as they talked about their dates later that night with their boyfriends. "Crap," Amber thought, "double seated," she thought, angry that Isabelle had sat two tables. Her bladder violently throbbing, almost leaking, Amber gave menus and water to the two girls, then made her way to Table #6. The young woman was very attractive, and looked at Amber in a funny way. "Hi. My name is Amber, and I'll be your server tonight. Here's the menu and would you like something to drink to start off with?" Amber asked, with her practiced approach. Amber stood there, her thighs shaking, beads of sweat forming on her forehead again. A tremendous wave of pee pressure overcame the poor server, almost causing an immediate release. The burning, stinging pain overcame her and Amber almost fainted from the pain, her vision going blurry, and her eyes tearing up. She needed to PEE!!!!!!!.

Somehow she recovered, her legs shaking, she waited as the woman ordered a large ice tea and a large glass of water. Amber walked over to the two girls, ready to get their order. Then it would be a quick trip to the parking lot. She didn't care if she had to squat next to her car; she needed to pee before she wet herself in front of everyone. She stood there, shaking, her legs pressed together, one hand trying to massage herself as she walked over. Amber almost leaked into her panties, but managed to hold back, the urge to pee insane, the pain constant. What had been waves of pressure now was a steady spasm, every step, every breath, and even every blink of the eye hurt. Amber was at the very last stages of holding on, and she knew it. If she didn't go outside or something within the next few minutes, she knew she'd be having an accident in her pants just like the pretty cheerleader, who had soaked herself in front of her friends. Amber cursed under her breath. The two teens were playing around, laughing. Finally they gave their order, and Amber started to head back to the kitchen when the woman at table #6 called her back. Amber could barely hold on. She was shaking uncontrollably, her body on the verge of explosion, her urethra tortured, her pubic area swollen with distress, her hot pee screaming inside of her, DYING to escape. "YES?" she mumbled, trying valiantly to hold on, to maintain dignity.

"I'm ready to order," the woman replied, putting down her menu. She stared at Amber, her legs pressed together, her feet pacing back and forth nervously, suddenly aware of Ambers incredible distress. "Are you okay?" the woman asked.

"Um. I just need to use the- the bathroom really bad, we had a water break or something and the bathrooms are closed, that's all," she mumbled, running together her words as her bladder surged incessantly within her, her slacks pressing tight against her pulsing belly, her pee about to explode out of her pee hole.

"The bathroom is closed?" the woman said in a shock, clutching her legs together, the black fabric of her tights defining her long muscles.

"Yea, but, but it should be open in like a half an hour," Amber mumbled, trying not to wet herself there.

"Oh my God, I really needed to go. I'm about to burst myself. And I just finished this water. Please tell me when they're open, okay?" the woman asked, some concern rising in her voice.

"Sure. Yea. So, what would you like?" Amber asked, somehow controlling herself. She'd put the order in, then run out to the parking lot and pee. Anywhere. She knew she was going to start going any second, and the time was now. She could not hold on any longer.

"I'd like the chef's salad, honey-mustard dressing," Amber clutched herself in pain, the last wave of pressure screaming inside of her. She momentarily lost control, and for the briefest part of a second, a little of her pee slipped out of her pee hole, a small spurt. Amber panicked, clutching her muscles tighter, taking her hand away from her crotch, in total and absolute desperation. "...and I'd like the Fajitas, no sour cream please," the woman continued. Amber was in panic.

"Uhm. The chicken salad and Italian?"

"No, the chefs salad, honey-mustard dressing..." Amber froze again, another small spurt escaping her tortured pee hole. The woman looked down, her eyes only two feet from Ambers slacks, and the three-inch wet spot in Amber's crotch was clearly noticeable. Amber didn't even realize she was visibly wet, barely able to contain the ocean inside of her, the pain intense, cutting through her like a knife, the waves of pressure constant, the burning inside beyond anything she had experienced, unable to control the spurts. Amber was slowly losing control, and she knew it.

"I'm sorry- the chef's salad then. I'm so sorry, I really am about to burst," she apologized, and started to walk away. Another spurt and Amber froze, trying to control herself. She COULD NOT pee herself here, NO, not NOW. She looked down, panicking when she saw the obvious wet spot in her tan slacks, tightly pressed against her engorged girlhood, her body racked with pain, needing to pee, starting to pee. She took a fast step and started to head out the door to the parking lot, to relieve herself the rest of the way and then get an apron to hide the wet spot in her slacks. Another small spurt- Amber panicked. The woman in table #6 called her. Amber turned around, tears in her eyes. She felt a small trickle of pee escape and a thin line of pee stain ran down her left thigh.

The woman looked straight at Amber's crotch, and giggled. "Wow, you really DO need to go to the bathroom, don't you?"

"Yes, I really need to go now, do you nnneed any-anything?" Amber mumbled again, jumbling and mixing her words. Another spurt, another small trickle of pee escaped her clenched burning pee hole, making the damp mark down her left thigh longer and darker. Amber was starting to pee on herself, and she knew it.

The woman kept looking; transfixed, watching Amber struggle to control herself. "Oh, I really do need another iced tea. I'm so sorry. Do you know you've got a wet spot on your pants?" the woman asked, shifting her weight on her chair. Amber couldn't understand her. The last spurt almost ruined her. The intense stinging pain rose to a crescendo, the pressure unbearable. Amber began to slowly pee, and she started to walk away. The woman called her back. "Honey, come back for a moment." Amber was peeing slowly now, she couldn't control the flow and her left thigh was getting slowly darker. Her warm pee was seeping out of her clenched pee hole, against all of Amber's might.

Amber turned, crying, shaking, and started wailing. "Oh I'm sorry. Oh NO. NOOO. Oh GODDDD NOOOOOOOO. NOOOO PLEASEEEEE NOOOOO," her voice rising both in volume and in pitch. Three feet away from the woman in table #6's eyes Amber lost control. The intense pain was too much, her weakened crotch muscles, the throbbing the pulsating sensation overcame her. A spurt escaped, and suddenly without any warning Amber could no longer control her bladder's urges. Her bladder exploded, pee thrashing out of her pee hole, flooding her panties, instantly wetting her pants. Her crotch and inner left thigh were soaked within a second, pee streaming seemingly by the gallon out of her crotch, gushing stream after gushing stream bursting from within, soaking her panties, soaking her pants. The pee streams soaked her tight tan slacks, the pee flooding down her legs glistening in the light as Amber totally wet herself in front of her customer, frozen in terror, unable to move. Pee kept coming. Her bladder pumped pee through her urethra, like a fire hose on a burning house, pee exploding, thrashing, sizzling noisily out of her young athletic body, flooding her clothes, the coarse fabric of her tan slacks unable to hold any more moisture, pee cascaded in sheets between her legs, flooding her inner thigh and trickling into her socks, her shoes, and onto the hardwood floor. Amber went to the bathroom into her pants, right there, in front of everyone, for a minute and forty seconds. Pure agony.

The two girls behind her giggled, whispering to each other "oh my God, she's peeing her pants right here!!!" The woman in table #6 looked in amazement, her eyes locked onto the spreading wetness of Amber's crotch.

Amber sobbed without stopping, looking up sheepishly when her pee stream finally died down. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Oh my God, I'm so sorry..." she cried, looking to the woman for forgiveness as her wet pants clung to her legs, her shoes standing in a four foot wide puddle of her own hot pee. Across the restaurant, the maintenance crew arrived and started working on the water main and the bathrooms. It was too late for Amber- she had just had the most embarrassing accident in her life, peeing in front of her customers. Carlene came around the corner and gasped, seeing Amber's soaked pants and the puddle on the floor. Amber cried and ran out the door, not even saying goodbye to Carlene or even bothering to put in the two tables' orders. Carlene turned around, watching Amber run out the door, wondering what to do.

Neither server saw the woman in table #6 urinate, on purpose, into her black leggings, pee dripping onto the floor and spreading all over the chair where she sat. The woman had a smile on her face as she put her fingers between her legs, feeling her pee explode into her leggings, the familiar warmth flooding her seat and her butt. She smiled, and then left quickly, pee running down the seams of her leggings as she walked out of the restaurant, leaving a five-dollar bill to pay for the drinks.

Amber sat in her car, her pants soaked, her seats soaked, and cried uncontrollably, unable to stop

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