RIPPLES STORY INDEX REBORN

xxtream

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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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Recent Comments: by Anonymous01/09/18

Public pooping as a punishment for peeing?

I don't know if anyone who's a "pee enthusiast" is also a "spank enthusiast". Wait, that's me, LOL! I think it would be fun if the headm

xxtream

Fay stood naked in her bedroom and looked at herself in her full-length mirror. Although 22-years old, her youthful, clear looks often made people think she was a few years younger, and her wild mass of copper, wavy hair did little to make her seem any older. She was only 5'3", and loved to dress in cute clothes, favouring over-the-knee socks and short skirts with t-shirts or tight blouses. This only served to show off her curves -- an eye-popping set that meant that not many guys ever looked at her face anyway! Her slim, shapely calves and soft, round thighs led on to a deliciously round and full bottom and tidy, ginger-fuzzed pussy, before narrowing into a petite waist and then on to her proudest feature -- her firm, pink-nippled boobs which were a tremendous 32FF and all natural. All of this made getting men (or women) very easy -- but it also made finding someone interested in more than just tearing her clothes off quite tricky. Ever since losing her virginity four years earlier she'd been very sexually active (earning her some unflattering names at college) but had always ended unsatisfied. She'd had sex with lots of men and a fair few ladies, and a lot of it had been good, but after a few weeks she was always bored and looking to move on and she was starting to wonder what the problem was.
Pouting at the image of herself, Fay sighed and started to dress. It was Saturday and she had the apartment to herself, but she fancied going out for a walk. Loosely tying her hair back, she rummaged through the mess of clothing scattered around her room. She pulled on some white, satin bikini style panties, cut full over her peachy bum, and a matching bra a size too small so that her huge breasts formed a cleavage that was positively mesmerizing. Next some white, cotton over-the-knee socks and a short, red tartan skirt followed by a black, low-necked vest that showed her chest. Finally, some black pumps. Checking her reflection again, she smiled: as ever, she'd have guys falling over themselves. The thought brought a slight blush to her normally pale cheeks, but she was done with guys, at least for a while. She'd split with her last boyfriend during the week and was not sure what to do next in her personal life.
Trotting down the steps to the street, Fay struck off in the direction of the park. It was a warm day, but the sun was not too strong so she was not worried about sunburn -- her pale, creamy skin didn't really tan. As she meandered, she thought about her relationships. Sex was always the reason they failed, and she was always the one who did the splitting. It wasn't that she was against sex -- far from it, she'd have it five times a day if she could. It was just that it always got boring, and she wasn't really sure what she wanted to do to keep it interesting. All the people that she'd slept with had simply wanted to play with her boobs and then fuck, which was fine, but she wanted more...she wanted dirtier. Dirtier? Where had that come from. She'd arrived at the park, which was quiet. She found a bench shaded by a large oak, and sat down to continue her thoughts.
Fay's upbringing had been very uptight, very middle-class and talking about sex was very much off the table. Her daddy would be horrified if he knew his little girl had been fucked by three men within a week of turning 18, so nothing like that was ever talked about. For Fay, sex had always been a strictly vanilla experience. But just thinking that word, thinking 'dirty', had made her cheeks blush and her nipples tingle. Was this her problem, she pondered, was it that she was the dirty slut that her college room-mate (who'd discovered her boyfriend fucking Fay) had alleged? The more she thought, the more it seemed right. Her best relationships had been the ones she knew were wrong -- guys who already had a girlfriend, a tutor, other girls. They'd all got boring eventually, but maybe she'd just not gone far enough.
As she suddenly became conscious of the fact that she was sitting on a public bench idly stroking her thighs and heavy breasts, Fay suddenly stopped and looked around. Thankfully nobody was nearby, but she knew that she was on the right path now, if simply thinking about trying something new was enough to have her off in an erotic trance. Setting off walking again, she mulled over what she should try. It was a thought that had never occurred to her -- sex had always been something that she was pursued for so constantly that initiating it never been an issue. But if she did initiate something, what did she want to happen? Out of the park now, she looked up, wondering where to go next, and her mind was instantly made up for her. Across the road, on the corner of a quiet intersection, was a seedy looking, dark blue-painted shop. Outside hung a simple sign: XXX, over 21s only. A sex shop! Where could be better?
Without pausing to lose her nerve, Fay dashed over the road and pushed the door open, which quietly shut behind her. After the sunshine outside, the store seemed dimly lit, and she stopped to look around, scanning the wares on offer. To her left was a wall of magazines, the covers all seeming to show blonde, tanned women with their obviously enhanced breasts out. In front of her were several aisles of DVDs and to her right was a frankly astonished looking guy of about 30, sitting behind the counter and looking entranced by the beautiful, curvy redhead in her painfully cute-but-sexy outfit.
"Ahhh...excuse me, but are you 21?" he managed to croak.
"22, actually," Fay replied sweetly. "I'm just browsing." She sounded confident, but actually her heart was hammering, so she turned her back on the man and walked purposefully down the first aisle and started to look at the DVDs.
Although simply being in this place was exciting her, the material on offer was disappointing -- movie after movie of pretty, blonde girls getting screwed. They all seemed to offer threesomes, which was a place to start, she supposed, but wasn't really what she was after -- not that she knew what she was after. Frustrated, she glanced up to look at the man again. As with most guys, he was trying to stare at her without being caught, and was failing hopelessly. He looked quite attractive, actually, slim, brown-haired, scruffy, maybe 5'10" -- not the slovenly old man she'd imagined would be in here. A thought suddenly hit her, and before she could decide against it, she acted on the impulse and strode over to the counter.
"Hello, I wonder if you can help me?" The man dragged his gaze from her deep cleavage to look her in the face.
"Ummm, sure, what can I do?"
Fay frowned slightly, but decided to push on. "Well, I'm not sure. I was looking for something...unusual, maybe?" He raised an eyebrow. "Well, maybe not unusual, but something naughtier than the DVDs you've got. Something, I don't know, dirty?"
There, she's said it. Her pussy was tingling, her nipples were almost throbbing and her face felt like it was red with embarrassment, but she hoped she looked less uncomfortable than the guy behind the counter did!
"Ah, ok," he paused, nonplussed. Gorgeous girls simply did not come into sex shops and ask for 'something dirty' -- well, they didn't other than in the sort of DVDs that she'd decided weren't good enough. "Well, we have some of the kinkier stuff over here." He slid off the stool he'd been reading on (a real novel, Fay noted, not a porno mag) and walked around the corner to the corner of the shop furthest from the door. Fay chewed her bottom lip, nervous now, but followed him. He continued, pointing at various sections of the shelves. "So, there's bondage, foot fetish stuff, bukkake, older guys, pregnant girls, watersports, spanking..."
"What's bukkake?" interrupted Fay. The assistant looked like he couldn't decide if he was confused or amazed, but he shrugged and handed her a DVD.
"Well, simply it's loads of guys cumming on a girl's face."
Fay studied the box and then handed it back. "Thanks. And watersports?"
He took a deep breath and shook his head slightly, before turning his back to her whilst he pointed at some DVD boxes. "There's different stuff, really, but it all boils down to, uhh, pissing. Guys on girls, girls on guys, drinking it, doing it outside, doing it in clothes..." He tailed off and turned back to her, but Fay didn't notice. She was lost in thought, his words crashing around in her head. Watersports! Now, that sounded naughty -- and dirty!
The assistant, who was called Andy, took this opportunity to study her. She really was the most fantastically gorgeous girl he'd laid eyes on -- pretty face, hair in coppery trails down her back and a body to make Jessica Rabbit pout at the unfairness of it! Andy coughed, to get her attention back, and continued with his pitch. "We've toys too, all the usual vibrators and dildos, plus handcuffs, paddles, canes...whatever you may, ummm, want, really." He shrugged and waited for a response from the redhead.
Fay's mind was buzzing. She'd never been as turned on in her life, and could not decide which way to turn. She felt hot and distracted, as she tried to pick out what had excited her most from what the assistant had been saying. She wanted almost all of it, and didn't know what to buy first and...and she'd left her purse at home. However, before she could even start to feel disappointed her sexually overcome brain supplied an answer -- after all, vanilla sex with dozens of guys may not have been kinky, but it had taught her that most men were powerless in front of her, even if she'd rather be powerless in front of them (now where had that thought come from?).
"Right," she started, "it's like this. I want to try some new stuff -- and I really like the things that you've been showing me. But, I've not brought my purse. Now, ever since I walked in here you've been looking down my top, so I figured we could maybe make a deal?"
"A deal?" Andy murmured.
"Yes, a deal. I already told you I was looking for something dirty, and you're a better looking guy than I expected to find in here. So, tell me, what do you like on these shelves?"
She'd taken a step closer to him, and Andy could almost feel the heat coming off her. This was just simply unreal, but he'd never been a man to look a gift horse in the mouth (although he'd never met a gift horse in the shape of a fantastic, sex-mad redhead with massive boobs).
"What do I like? Why, what deal did you have in mind?"
Fay paused, realising that he sounded more assertive now. However, she'd come this far. "The deal I've got in mind, "she stepped closer, her soft tits which were straining her top now brushing against his chest, "is that you can do to me whatever you like and in return I can have whatever I like from the shop. Deal?"
"Serious?"
She moved closer again, her boobs now pressed against him and he could smell her gentle, musky scent. Stretching up (he was seven inches taller than her) she kissed him, and whispered "Serious."
Andy turned, marched to the door and quickly flicked the catch, locking them in. He turned back to face her.
"I'm Andy. What's your name?"
"Fay," she answered quietly.
"Well, Fay, you said you wanted naughty and dirty, so here's the deal. I want you to take off your top and your bra so that I can see your fucking massive tits. Then I want you to bring me the cane that I just showed you. I'm going to spank you and cane you on your ass whilst you bend over the counter," he pointed to a spot. "You seemed to like the wetting DVD, so I hope you need to go to the toilet, because I am going to keep spanking you until you piss into your panties. After that, well, I've not decided. If you agree to that you can have the cane, and you can have the DVD. Well?"
Fay looked down and thought. This was so wrong, so sluttish, so naughty and rude and...dirty. Looking up she stared fiercely at Andy, her jaw set. "You'd better make it hard." With that, she hauled her vest off, dropping it to the ground, and unclasped her bra. Her huge, soft breasts swung free, wobbling slightly but so firm and proud. Giving him a moment to admire them she plucked the thin, whippy cane off the fall and walked towards him. Andy's eyes were glued to her chest -- he wasn't entirely certain that he hadn't died and gone to heaven.
Stopping in front of him, Fay proffered the cane, which he took and set down on the counter. Before he could speak she gave him an insolent pout and turned to lean over the counter. Her tits were crushed into the counter top and her back was arched, her chubby bottom offered up and waiting with her legs straight. Andy stepped forward and flipped her skirt up, revealing her white panties, the satin material stretched taut across her cheeks. He dragged his palm across her buttocks, cupping them and feeling the weight of them. Fay was in a turmoil. She'd never been spanked in her life, let alone by a complete stranger in exchange for some goods. It basically made her a whore. A dirty whore. She closed her eyes as the thought rushed over her and made her even more turned on. What on earth was wrong with her?
It was the last coherent thought she had for a while. Deciding to forego any warm up, Andy laid a firm slap across her left bottom cheek, then a harder one across the right. As her skin was so pale, a light pink blush was immediately raised and the impression of his palm was clear. Fay winced and exhaled sharply, and before there was a further reaction he spanked again, four swift smacks to each cheek, the crack from each resounding around the store.
"Owwww" cried Fay softly under her breath, and she started to cry softly. The spanking hurt, but at no time was she regretting the deal she'd offered. She was so horny that nothing seemed out of the question. The smacks kept falling, sharp and hard, keeping to a rhythm of Andy's devising, sometimes alternating cheeks, sometimes landing a few on one and then a few on the other. He covered her whole bottom with spanks, from the cheeks to the fold at the tops of her thighs where her ass curved into her legs. Spank. Spank. Spank. Spank. Spank. Spank. Spank. Spank. Spank. Spank. Spank. Spank. The tattoo of slaps onto her now reddened bottom continued. Her cheeks were glowing hot, blotchy and red and the sting was getting as much as she could bear. Remembering the deal, Fay realised that he intended to keep spanking her until she pissed in her pants. Tears were now running down her face, and she was sobbing and snivelling with the increasing pain in her behind. At the same time, the crotch of her knickers was already wet, but with her pussy rather than pee. She felt like she was made of sex.
Spank. Spank. Spank. Spank. Spank. Spank. Andy continued, his arm like a piston as he slapped and smacked her firm, round bottom, the full cheeks bouncing and wobbling with the impact of his hand. He wasn't sure how much more she could take. For her part, nor was Fay, and she was doing her best to concentrate on going to the toilet, but she'd not gone to the toilet in her panties since she was little, and never whilst bending over the counter in a sex shop and being spanked by a stranger!
Fay tried to ignore the hand falling repeatedly onto her scorched ass and focused all her attention on her bladder. She'd not been to the loo at all, so how hard could it be? She was not going to be able to sit down for a week, at this rate, when, finally, with a choked gasp, she seemed to burst. Andy stopped spanking immediately as hot, yellow piss flooded from her lips, soaked the crotch of her panties and bubbled through the material between her thighs. Streams ran down her legs, soaking her over-the-knee socks and staining them yellow.
"You're so bad, so dirty," she heard Andy say as she strained to keep peeing. She was dimly aware that he'd moved, she heard a swish and then, as her piss continued to soak her clothes and splash into a pool on the floor, a burning stripe exploded across her ass as Andy caned her.
"Nooooo," she cried, but she didn't try to get up. Her left arm was now curled under her on the counter, squeezing and grasping at her tear-wet boobs, and her right was reaching between her legs, rubbing frantically at her cunt. He caned her again, then again, the whippy cane slashing across her stinging behind and leaving red stripes across her already burning cheeks. Fay continued to try to pee, as the cane marked her thighs, her legs treading gently, her pumps squelching as they filled with her pee, her hand a blur at the front of her pissy panties. Suddenly, powerfully, her orgasm took her, and she collapsed, shuddering across the counter, gasping and trembling. Andy stopped caning her and just watched her, as she collected herself. Her thighs and ass were an angry, weal-marked red, her panties and socks were soaking wet and yellow with her pee, tears and snot had run from her face onto her swollen breasts.
Unsteadily, Fay stood up and turned to face him, still catching her breath. "Thank you," she half whispered. "That was the best orgasm I've ever had."
Lee swallowed, feeling dazed himself. "You're...you're welcome. I guess." He waved vaguely at the shelves. "Help yourself."
To Be Continued...

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bytoocold© 3 comments/ 99713 views/ 34 favorites

xxtream

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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bysteve25805© 5 comments/ 71855 views/ 25 favorites

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xxtream · September 11, 2012

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Posted September 11, 2012

Okay, So I finally found enough time in my busy life to write a detailed description of my very first sexual wetting experience. I am definitely not an avid writer, so this probably isn't the best piece of literary work you'll find on here, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.
- Ash
For as long as I can remember, I've always loved the feeling of being desperate. I have this habit of waiting until the last possible moment before using the bathroom. This has been the cause of quite a lot of close calls throughout the years; Many of which have resulted in damp panties or even a small wet spot on the crotch of my pants. I never minded that though, and always felt a bit naughty afterward, knowing that I did something I wasn't supposed to and nobody around me had any idea. Strangely enough, I never identified this pleasure as anything 'sexual' until one specific incident that happened to me when I was 14 ( toward the end of my freshman year ).
Throughout freshman year, I developed this routine where, instead of peeing when I woke up, I would hold it through the morning and wait until after third period to go pee. This was perfect because it gave me enough time to enjoy my full bladder without putting me at risk for an embarrassing accident. I would then go to my fourth period, which was lunch, drink a lot of liquids, and carry around a water bottle for the rest of the day to make sure I was desperate by the time I got home.
So, the day of my first sexual wetting experience started out just like any other. I woke up, showered, got dressed in the clothes I had picked out the night before, and quickly headed off to school. That day I wore a black spaghetti strap shirt, really tight black and red plaid pants, black converse sneakers, a simple black bra, and a cute black cotton thong with a sexy lace trim. I placed the thong just high enough to be seen peeking over the top of my pants.
Anyway, the day was going on as usual. It was in third period; I was in the back of the class talking to my friends, making fun of the teacher, being a total brat, ( and enjoying the feeling of my ever increasing need to pee ) when an announcement was made over the loudspeaker stating that there was some kind of gas leak within the building, and school was going to let out early. Of course, all the kids were yelling in excitement over the news, and I just sat there quietly, trying to judge my state of desperation, wondering if I should go before school lets out or hold on until I get home. I definitely felt the pressure building up in my bladder, but it wasn't anything urgent. So, thinking that the 20-minute bus ride home wouldn't be too much of a problem, I decided to hold it. Leaving the school, I was felt somewhat nervous and excited at the idea of this private challenge I had given myself.
Well, forty-five minutes later, all the students were out in front of the school waiting for the buses to arrive, and I was beginning to think I made a big mistake. My bladder was aching for relief and I was unable to stand still. Still trying to be discrete, I went from simply swaying back and forth and fidgeting to crossing and re-crossing my legs. At that point, people around me were beginning to notice of my situation, and it dawned on me that a full-blown accident might actually be a possibility. So, acknowledging that I was most likely going to fail this little challenge of mine, I asked one of the teachers if I could go back inside to use the bathroom, but, to my dismay, the doors were locked, and I was forced to suffer.
After nearly an hour of waiting, all the buses had arrived, and the students had all piled in. We were finally ready to leave, and as soon as I was safely in the back seat of the bus, I wedged my hand between my legs and sat in my seat leaning forward. I must have leaked a little because I could feel that my panties were slightly wet. A friend of mine, Megan, found me huddled up in the seat. She had a concerned look on her face and wondered if I was okay. I thought about how pathetic I must have looked and felt my face turn a little red. She saw me desperate plenty of times, but never this bad; It was embarrassing. "I Think I'm going to pee my pants" I finally said, letting out a sort of half laugh, half cry. "Ohh" she replied, now understanding why my body was contorted into such an awkward position. Sitting down next to me, she added, "..Just don't get any on me." That made me laugh just enough to let out a small squirt into my panties. I gasped and jammed both hands deeper between my legs. She gave me a weird look and I just kind of whimpered in response. I tried to discretely feel around my crotch for any sign that my pee had soaked through my pants, but luckily, couldn't feel anything. The rest of the ride was spent in silent agony, thinking that every time the bus hit a bump in the road I was going to completely lose it. What made the ride even more uncomfortable was that I could feel Megan staring at me almost the entire time. She was probably as curious as I was to see if I could make it off the bus without peeing myself.
Finally, the bus reached my stop! After gingerly stepping off the bus and onto my street, I started to get the feeling that I might actually be able to make it home without completely soaking my pants. So, I hobbled down the road toward my house, and everything was going well until I got about half-way up my driveway, and I was hit with a giant wave of desperation! At first, I felt a small squirt of pee shoot out into my panties, then came a larger one! I doubled over as I felt more pee begin to dibble down the back of my leg! The color drain from my body as I thought "This is it! I'm going to have an accident right here in front of my house!" I crossed my legs, closed my eyes and pressed my hand so hard against my vagina that my fingers started to hurt! After a few moments, I stopped the leak a was able to regain my composure. My fingers were really wet, and I knew the damage to my pants had to be pretty bad. I looked down and saw that the crotch of my pants was completely soaked, and I could feel my butt was a little wet and the backs of my thighs had streaks of pee running down them. I ran the rest of the way to my house, and after fumbling with key, I finally made it inside. ( I was so thankful that both my parents were still at work and wouldn't be home for hours. )
As I made my way though the empty house, toward the bathroom, I started to realize I was actually feeling pretty good and sort of confident in a way. I made it to my home, I was alone for the next few hours with nothing better to do,and I was kind of enjoying the feeling of my wet pants. So, I figured "I might as well see just how much longer I can wait." So I turned around and headed back to the living room to turn on the TV.
There I stood, in the middle of my living room, hands firmly pressed against my vagina, swaying side to side, unable to concentrate on anything but the feeling of my wet clothes and my growing level of desperation. It couldn't have even been five minutes of standing there before my poor bladder decided to just simply give out on me without any warning! I thought my body would give some kind of warning sign, maybe a few spurts saying, "hey, Ash! You're about to completely soak your pants, get to a toilet!" however, it gave me none of that. Before I even knew what was happening, I felt the torrent of pee that I had been holding back the entire day flood through my fingers, pour down the backs of my thighs and splash onto the hardwood floor, forming a large puddle beneath me. I thought about running to the bathroom, but something kept me frozen in place. So I just stood there, hand still firmly pressed against my crotch, with an unrelenting flood of pee gushing through my pants. A feeling of immense relief overtook me, and I just closed my eyes and thought about nothing but how great the warmth felt against my skin.
After the tide of pee finally trickled to a stop, I was in a state of shock over what just happened, and I began touching my body, hardly able to believe what I had just done. I slid my hand over by butt and down my soaking wet thighs. Then my hands met my vagina, which was extremely sensitive, even over my pants! I started caressing myself, rubbing myself back and forth, feeling the wave of pleasure begin to build up. After few minutes, I was feeling very unsteady on my feet and needed to sit down, so I looked around, then suddenly had an idea. I took a towel from the bathroom and placed it on the arm of my couch, then climbed on top straddling it, and began grinding my hips in a rhythmic motion. It only took a few moments of grinding before I was completely overwhelmed by a wave of orgasmic pleasure! The ecstasy was unimaginable! I collapsed onto the the couch, completely out of breath and visibly shaking. My eyes became fixed the large puddle of pee I in the middle of the living room. I wanted to just lay there for eternity but knew that I had to start cleaning up.
I gabbed a few towels and started wiping up my mess when I got a phone call from Megan, stating that she raided her parents' liquor cabinet and was coming over. I thought about protesting, but I was just too tired to try and think of an excuse. So I just managed an "Mhmm" before she hung up and was forced to run around and clean up as fast as my body would let me. I grabbed some towels from the closet and quickly soaked up my huge puddle, and threw everything ( including my shoes ) into the wash. Then I took a quick shower and managed to get out just as she arrived. After getting dressed, We both proceeded to sit outside in my backyard and enjoyed the nice spring weather ( mostly because I want her in my house. I was deathly afraid that the entire thing now smelled like pee ).

xxtream

My name is Ellie, and I was an alcoholic. Not a great way for someone who's barely 21 to introduce herself, but at least now I can say was rather than am... at least most of the time. Cut me a little slack though, growing up dirt poor in the big city isn't easy, and I made it through mostly unscathed. Didn't flunk out, didn't get pregnant, didn't get shot, and didn't terminally damage my kidneys, though I came close to a few of those (okay, maybe most of them). However, those are stories for a different time.

At 21, I had mostly turned my life around. I was doing decent in college; had mostly stopped drinking, most of the time; and had met Dan, my first boyfriend who wasn't a gang-banger. But my previous lifestyle had left some marks: after getting my act cleaned up, my doctor (the first I'd seen since early childhood) diagnosed me with overactive bladder syndrome - probably a result of excess alcohol consumption he said, and probably something I'd be dealing with for the rest of my life.

One night while reading online I saw an ad for a new line of "sexy" incontinence underwear. Sometimes it scares me that Google knows I want something before I even know it exists. They actually looked like underwear a normal 20-something year old would wear, although with their decent looks came some trade-offs: they weren't designed to hold much more than very light leaks. That was fine by me. Most of the time I made it to the bathroom fine. When I didn't, I usually didn't leak too much, but when you're out in public, returning from a bathroom break with even a small wet spot is still pretty embarrassing. Needless to say, I ordered a pair to try out.

The next Saturday, Dan invited me out to dinner and to a play that I had really been wanting to go see. It seemed like a very appropriate opportunity to try out my new purchase, especially because I sometimes have trouble staying completely dry for an entire movie or show. Over the new panties I wore some fairly tight faded blue jeans, which I knew from past experienced turned fairly dark when wet. It was great to be able to wear them for once without concern about leaks showing up.

At dinner I started with just water, and I had intended to stick to just water. However, after ordering my pepper-encrusted steak with sautéed onions, the waiter recommended we pair our meal with one of their in-house vintage wines. I was going to decline (really), but Dan said it sounded great to him. Sometimes it's hard to say no... so I got a glass as well. Normally I would never drink before any situation where I wouldn't have immediate access to a bathroom because alcohol tends to aggravate my OAB, but confidence in my new panties made me feel that I had a little extra wiggle room this evening.

Dinner was delicious, but the service was a bit slow. By the time we finished eating we were way behind schedule. As we waited for the check, Dan looked up walking directions on his phone and found that if we left immediately we could get there with about 5 minutes to spare. This was the type of show where if you were late, you didn't get in - it said so in bold text right on the ticket.

I was starting to feel the need to pee at this point and under normal circumstances would have started looking for a bathroom, but I was caught up worrying about whether we could get to the theatre in time. For the next couple minutes we sat in tense silence, anxiously looking around for our waiter.

Finally, Dan told me he was going to get up and go look for the waiter. This was pretty unusual behavior for Dan, but we both realized how little time we had to waste. I opened my mouth to tell Dan I was going to run to the restroom while he tracked down the bill, but before I could speak the waiter appeared next to our table, set down the bill, and wished us a good evening. In less than 30 seconds, Dan had paid in cash (also pretty unusual), and we were out the door and rushing down the street.

The sidewalks were crowded with people going out to enjoy their Saturday evening, but we set a rapid pace despite the congestion. Google Maps told us we would be late, but of course it assumed we would be walking at a normal pace. I nervously checked the time on my phone every two minutes, wondering first whether we would make it on time at all, and second whether there was any chance of us making it with enough time for me to use the bathroom before the show. Fortunately, we made good time and stepped through the front door and into the lobby with a couple minutes to spare.

The play we were going to see that night was at one of the few theatres in the city I hadn't been to before. The theatre building was an unusual and somewhat awkward shape, although I have to give props to the architects for managing to squeeze a building of any sort into the V-shaped lot at the corner of two streets that met at a 45 degree angle. The pie-slice-shaped building had its entrance and lobby at the tip of the V.

Immediately upon entering, I looked around for the bathroom, as I had reached the point where I would normally have stopped whatever I was doing and gone to pee. I had no trouble spotting it, but there was also already a woman standing next to the door waiting to use it. I only would have had time to use the bathroom had it been vacant, but even a one-person line meant someone was already inside. Cycling three of us through the bathroom before the show started wasn't going to happen, so I didn't even bother mentioning it to Dan.

The lobby had doors leading deeper into the V on either side of the back wall. I expected to find myself at the back of the auditorium when we went through the door, but instead we found ourselves walking down a straight dark hallway lit by tiny aisle lights near the floor. Moments later we emerged into the auditorium at its front, right next to the stage.

As we started climbing the stairs towards our seats, I looked back and saw a flood of light pouring into the dim auditorium through the two doors to the lobby. I understood now why the theatre didn't allow late admittance. I almost panicked when I realized that leaving in the middle of the show wouldn't be possible without causing a major disruption, but I managed to hold it together. To make matters worse, our seats were near the center of the row, and we had to climb over everyone who had arrived on time to get to them.

When we reached our seats I looked around for other exits. There were two at the back, but they were labeled as emergency-only exits. The dark hallways flanking the stage were the auditorium's only link to the lobby. It would have been nice of the architects to have blocked the light from the lobby by putting a zig-zag or curve in the hallways, or even a second set of doors on the auditorium side, but I guess between the need to have two forward-facing exits for the fire code and the desire to maximum the space available for the stage they hadn't been able to manage it.

As someone with OAB, I'm pretty familiar with the signals my bladder sends. So within about 10 minutes I knew with almost complete certainty that I wasn't going to be able to hold it for the remaining 80 minutes of the show. I was pretty pissed at myself for having that glass of wine at dinner and for not somehow managing to find a way to the bathroom before the show... although mostly for the glass of wine since that was actually under my control. At least I had chosen tonight to wear these incontinence underwear, although they were also the reason why I told myself it would be OK to order the wine, sooooo...

I wasn't paying any attention to the show at this point. My eyes were everywhere except the stage, looking for some way to get to the bathroom without causing a major disruption. We had probably already annoyed most of the people in our row by arriving at the last minute and having to climb over them as the show began, but they would forgive us for that. I wasn't willing to face the embarrassment of having to ask them to move again less than 10 minutes after the show started. I'm sure in their mind they would be thinking that anyone who had to pee so badly they disrupted the show after only a few minutes should have gone before the show started. Right.

I told myself I would wait at least another 20 minutes before getting up. Having to leave after only 30 minutes still didn't really seem acceptable, but it was sure a lot more reasonable than having to leave after 10. 20 more minutes without a small leak or a few dribbles was asking a lot of my poor bladder, but if my underwear worked as advertised it would be no problem.

Of course, I had turned my phone off for the show, so I didn't actually have any way of seeing what time it was or how much time had passed, but after what I thought must have been about 20 minutes I still hadn't leaked, or at least hadn't had any leaks significant enough for me to feel them. I did have to pee really badly though, like really badly.

In my mind I pictured how it would go: I would get up and disrupt each person in my row as they stood to allow me to pass by, and in turn the people standing would block the view of those behind them. Then I would draw everyone's attention, audience and actors alike, as I walked down the stairs to the lobby door, and finally I would blind everyone in the audience by opening the door and letting light from the lobby flood the room. Then I would do it again on the way back.

In that moment I decided I couldn't do it, even after I had promised myself that if I just waited 20 more minutes I would let myself get up and go. The embarrassment of having to leave the auditorium was simply too great and too immediate. Would it be more embarrassing than peeing my pants? Maybe or maybe not, but I hadn't lost control yet, so having to get up to go to the bathroom felt like more of an immediate threat than having wet pants.

I prayed that by some miracle the show would have an intermission and save me, although I didn't think one was scheduled. At least I had the new panties, although I really wished I had bothered to test them beforehand to see how much could actually hold. They were only advertised as being able to protect against mild leaks - a few teaspoons at most, but at that moment I was really hoping they were over-engineered. I knew they were going to get a little wet, even if the show did have an intermission, but hopefully not wet enough to show.

I felt torn between trying to stay dry for at least another 15 or 20 minutes to see if there would be an intermission, or testing the underwear right away while I still had reasonable control over my bladder. After waiting what felt like 5 more minutes I couldn't take it anymore. Here I was, a 21-year-old college student deciding to test a new incontinence product in the middle of a crowded theatre - great planning Ellie.

Given that I had little choice in the matter, my plan to test the panties was basically the same one I would have used in private: I would pee a little tiny bit, wait for a few minutes, and then check for any leaks. I expected the panties to leak at some point, so I would repeat the process a few times until they did. There was enough of the show left that a small leak would dry by the end; I had enough experience with minor leaks to know that. Hopefully the panties would absorb enough for me to hold the rest until an intermission or the end of the show. If they didn't, I would suck it up and go to the bathroom, because in my head I knew peeing myself would be a much more embarrassing and much longer-lasting ordeal than having to leave the auditorium during the show.

So then I tried to do something I had never tried to do on purpose before: I tried to pee myself a little while surrounded by other people. It was surprisingly difficult to do, despite how badly I had to pee at that point. Butterflies filled my stomach as I tried to relax. Then I felt a huge urge to pee building and quickly aborted the attempt because it felt like way too much was about to flood out.

I tried again and managed to let out a few agonizing dribbles. Less than I had hoped, but at least it was something. As I sat waiting for it to soak in I felt hot everywhere. My face was flushed and probably bright red, and my urethra felt warm and pleasant from the liquid that had just passed through it.

After a minute I stared down at my jeans to look for leaks. I didn't notice any, but it also wasn't really bright enough to see them very well. I discreetly rested a hand in my lap and probed with my fingers - they felt dry. Finally, I lifted one butt cheek and ran a hand under my bottom - also dry.

Winner of round one: panties. Time for round two. Butterflies built in my stomach again, but it was a lot easier to let go the second time - the pump was primed so to speak. I let loose a few high-pressure spurts. A little more than I had meant to this time, and I actually thought I heard an audible hissing in between lines of dialog. No one around me seemed to have noticed though, so I probably only heard it because I was listening for it (or maybe I just imagined it).

I stared down at my crotch again, and again it looked dry. A quick check with my hand in my lap also came back dry. When I ran my hand under my butt it felt like the tips of my fingers came back slightly damp. I checked again; they still felt damp. The panties had held quite a bit less than I had hoped they would (although to be fair, I was probably already pushing them beyond what they were rated for).

I wasn't really sure what to do at that point, although I knew I should probably just get up and go to the bathroom like a big girl. I didn't have to wait much longer though, a minute later I got a funny feeling in my stomach and felt a strong urge to pee coming on very quickly. I couldn't clamp down quickly enough to stop it and felt warmth in my lap as I filled my panties with a severe leak.

I immediately ran my hand under my bottom again. This time my entire hand, both butt-side and seat-side, came back obviously wet. I had only leaked for a second or two at most, but with the underwear's absorbent lining already saturated the pee had gone basically straight into my pants.

Now that my pants were obviously wet the entire embarrassment-equation had changed drastically. I would no longer really save myself any face by leaving to go to the bathroom, so that wasn't going to happen anymore. I didn't intentionally pee myself right then, but a few minutes later when I started leaking again I also didn't try too hard to stop it. I just tried to limit the flow to keep the noise at a minimum. However, I did stop when I heard drips beginning to fall off the seat and smack into the floor. At that point though I had gone enough to hold it for the rest of the show.

The show didn't have an intermission, and I ended up being pretty stiff by the end of it, because for the rest of the show I couldn't really shift my weight on the seat with compressing the cushion and sending audible drips of pee down to the floor. So I ended up sitting extremely still in my wet jeans for another 45 minutes or so.

I can't remember almost anything from the first half of the show, but the second half was good. Also the underwear do work, but only if used responsibly.

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xxtream

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.

xxtream

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

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