Peeing Humiliation. Pantys Pee Story, Dominant Water Punishment A hot panties peeing story from Retro Cascade Knicker Wetting Magazine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

After the phone sex I had with Amanda (Miss Johns, my college lecturer) we had both promised to refrain from any sexual indulgence until our next arranged meeting the following afternoon. We would be feeling very horny and we had also undertaken to resist relieving our bladders from lunchtime onwards. I was more than happy to agree, "But don't forget!" I had reminded her when I phoned, "you take us for PE last session and you don't want me to wet myself during that, do you?"
"No," she said, "it would be nicer if we are both having to hold on, be a good girl 'till then, bye!" The 'phone went dead, leaving me tingling with anticipation and my hand still in my wet panties. It was as much as I could do to keep my promise even then, in fact, I automatically began to rub myself and would probably been unable to resist a final climax, but my quim was raw from all the attention it had received on the 'phone sex earlier.

Here's my paantie pee story: The following morning I awoke finding that I had wet the bed! No doubt, dreaming of what had happened the previous day. As a child I was still wetting the bed at 10 years old and although with specialist help, it became less frequent. But I have lapses, so I use a waterproof cover beneath the sheets. Occasionally I wear incontinence pants, like I had that night, but I probably pee'd quite a lot, so I woke in an absolute pool of pee. On the way to college, as I walked, each step caused the fabric of my tight panties to slide over my aroused clit. I longed to go in the college toilets and bring myself off, but I refrained. By the lunchtime break my panties were so sticky with my excitement of what was to come, that when I went to the loo and lowered them to pee, my clitty was poking out! and when I pee'd, I managed a small orgasm. That was my last allowed pee until my date with Amanda and by three o'clock, I wanted to pee badly and by 4 and I was dribbling into my gym pants. I wondered how Amanda was managing and maybe she too had started to wet herself? I was late entering the gym and Miss Johns was sat on the vaulting horse, her legs folded under her so I couldn't see how she had faired. She was directing a group of girls in an aerobics routine, however, she must have been aware that if I did vigorous exercises, I would most certainly pee myself. She told me to do rope and mat work on my own. This was to prove very tempting, as climbing with the rope between my legs stopped me peeing, but had every nerve screaming as I totted on the brink of orgasm.

You can come down now, I want to inspect your panties.

While Amanda was directing the rest of the group, my thighs were burning from the friction of the rope and I was now at the top with my arms wrapped around the tie beam. She kept looking up at me and must have been able to see my red locked thighs straining together to avoid peeing and from my vantage point, I could see she was sitting on her foot with the heel pressed tight against her vagina, rocking slowly to and fro, desperate for a pee. Finally, as she dismissed the group, she walked over and stood beneath the rope and shouted up, "You can come down now, I want to inspect your panties." I released my hold on the tie beam and started to slide down the rope and with that, my bladder relaxed and the pee spurted uncontrollably from my aching fanny. It went through my panties as if they weren't there! Some was going down the rope and some sprayed through the air and fell on Amanda's face and shoulders. As I touched the ground, I reached for her, but she pushed me roughly away. I was so sorry and stuttered, "I ddidn't mmean to do it, iiit was an accident, III couldn't help it!"
Amanda was clearly not having any of that and retorted, "You bloody little baby!" I started to cry as I stood there with both hands holding my self between the legs, together with my school gym knickers soaked. Amanda was also wet with my pee, she looked so angry I was afraid everything was ruined. I must have looked pathetic as Amanda said to me more gently this time, "Lift that skirt and lean over the vaulting horse." I did as I was asked and watched as Amanda went to the storage cupboard and returned with a thin cane. "Now let's have a look at you." I felt her hand between my legs having a feel of my pants. "Is that ALL the pee? Or have you come as well? C'mon, tell me!" she demanded. I stuttered, "Well Iii'm only, iiit's just . . . "

Amanda shrieked and immediately pee'd through her panties

"Oh stop dithering and let me see for myself." And with that, Amanda hooked her thumbs in the waist of my panties and pulled them down to my knees. I could feel her hot breath near my bottom as she inspected the crutch of my panties. "There is a bit of a cum stain in there, but I don't think you can have cum properly, so you'll still be randy when I get you home. However, as you have pee'd on me, albeit from a great height, I think a few strokes of the cane will make you think twice before you break your promises again!"

Later, on the way home I had my hand holding Amanda's fanny over her panties while she drove, I knew what I was going to do. As Amanda stopped the car in her drive and turned off the ignition, I took hold of some of her pubic hair and with one swift jerk, I pulled as hard as I could and came away with quite a bunch of hairs. Amanda shrieked and immediately pee'd through her panties, it was a long thick stream, it saturated her skirt and the seat and as she complained to me, I launched my assault of, "You dirty little bitch! It's YOU that's behaving like a little girl and now you need to be treated like one!" It was now Amanda's turn to start to blubber as she rubbed herself. I shouted, "If losing a little pubic hair distresses you that much, let's have you upstairs and I'll soon have that problem solved, let's have you hairless!" I marched her into her house and straight into her bedroom where I removed her sopping wet skirt and panties, she was clearly excited and more so when I tied her wrists and ankles to the four corners of the bed. Then, from the bathroom I brought some shaving cream, together with a razor and bowl of hot water. After finishing trimming her bush with the scissors, I bathed her sad looking fanny with the hot water and the shaving foam as she strained against the straps to bring her legs together and try to rub harder against my hand. "Please don't tease me anymore, you're going to make me wee!" I gently drew the cold blade over her labia and then, when I had finished, I squatted over her foamy mess and rinsed off thoroughly with my at least half of my bladder contents, saving the rest for later. I then slid forward so that my thighs were on either side of Amanda's face, her nose rubbed on my clitoris and her tongue darted to and fro and the sensations of ecstasy swept over me, I panted, "I am going to make you drink the rest of my wee, can you drink it all?" In answer, she increased her rubbing and as the waves of my climax hit me, I began to pee into her mouth. She did manage to swallow quite a lot, but much of it soaked her face and hair. After I'd finished my peey task, I went and cleaned myself up a bit and went back and untied the bedraggled and bald beavered Amanda and cheerfully said on my way out, "Thanks for a great time baldy! I'll see you at college tomorrow!"

Female Desperation And Wetting Story December 16, 2007

 

 

 

 

 

Another Story I Have Come Across Enjoy The Female Desperation And Wetting

It happened while I was walking through the city center with a girlfriend during a nice, but not too hot summer day in August. We had been visiting some friends and decided to walk back to her place where I had left my car (we had gone to our friends by bus, since parking is just next to impossible in the city center). On the way home, we had got something to drink at a nice terrace at the market square (too expensive for the service, of course) and now we crossed a beautiful park area, with the usual lawns, pools, ducks and children running around. It was then that she turned to me and said: “Shit, I should have gone to the bathroom at that place on the market”. Of course I casually remarked: “Well, this place isn’t exactly fitted for a pee, is it?” while looking around and seeing everybody running around with no sheltered spot anywhere near. She nodded and added: “Still, I’ve to go *bad*. Where is the nearest pub?” Unfortunately for her, the closest place where we could possibly find a public bathroom was the market place, fifteen minutes behind us. Stupid cities with all action concentrated in one place and the rest being only offices and houses. And parks of course.

We decided to go on and try to reach her house, which was still ten minutes or so to go. After one more minute of walking, she suddenly went off the path and crossed the lawn towards a few bushes. “Sorry, I’ll try it here. I *really* need to pee”, she said. Looking for a spot where she could successfully squat down without being noticed, she almost ran around the bushes only to find a children’s playground at the other side. Rather angry she came back to me. “Grrr who has designed this park. They should force him to wet his pants,” she mumbled, and I could notice that she crossed her thighs under her wide skirt.

I wanted to try something. “Well, maybe this park was designed by a woman, you know. Back in the fifties or so, when almost every woman still wore skirts. Like you do now.” She lifted her eyebrows and looked at me. “What’s that to do with the absence of public toilets where they should be?”, she asked. Then the suddenly understood and frowned. “Oh yeah, well, you mean…”. I shrugged. “Yes. Nobody will notice. I will, but I don’t mind at all. Just go ahead, there’s nobody close and no one approaching right now.”

She sighed and looked down to her white summer skirt that reached down to just below her knees. She couldn’t help still crossing her thighs and now even pressing her hands in her crotch. “I don’t have much choice, do I? Jesus, if I don’t do it myself, I will be wet within a minute anyway. Shit. What a stupid move of me.” That said, she left the path and walked onto the grass. She looked aside, to me again, and slightly pulled up her skirt. “Do you think I can squat without people noticing?” Before I could answer, a bunch of yelling children came in from the opposite corner of the park and my friend shook her head herself. “Nope. Forget about that. Damned, I’ll look like a three-year-old girl.”

Then she stepped out of her slippers, walked for a meter on bare feet through the grass, stopped, and parted her legs a little. Her wide skirt effectively hid this pose and from a distance of more than ten meters nobody would see anything strange. To cover her up even more, I decided to go down on one knee and started to re-tie my shoelace. It appeared that she now was waiting for me to finish with my unwilling shoe lace. “Go ahead”, I said. “Just enjoy it.” She looked at me with a mix of embarassment and a smile. “Please, don’t tell anybody, okay?” I nodded. She cleared her throat. “Alright then. Shit. Shit. Shit.” Her hands grabbed her skirt, shook it loosely over her legs, and I noticed that she casually reached through her skirt to the waistband of her panties to pull them up firmly. Looking around to the people, she pulled the skirt away from the front of her panties, let it carefully fall down again, reached behind her to check that her skirt was not hanging between her legs, and then spread her legs a little more. “Okay. There we go, for god’s sake.”

She looked to her crotch and breathed deeply. Then she slowly released her muscles. I saw her pull her belly a bit inward and bite her lip when her pee flowed into her panties. She let her breath escape through her teeth and obviously felt foolish. But the relief was so big that it took over within seconds. Together with a quite satisfied expression on her face, the pee started to drip down between her legs. It became a stream, and then an even bigger stream. When she was in full swing, she giggled and looked foolishly at me. “Now, how do I look like? Wrong! Eighteen years older!” Still peeing, she casually looked around and saw nobody nearer than fifty meters. Casually she put a hand in her skirt’s left pocket. “Well, after all, this isn’t so bad. It is only my panties. And it is a warm day, anyway.” She looked to the sky. “Besides, it is not an unpleasant feeling.” Rapidly correcting herself, se added: “That is, now my panties are wet, it doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” I rose to my two feet again and told her I thought it indeed didn’t matter at all. I also told her that I really liked seeing her standing with her legs a bit apart, wearing a skirt, and thoroughly wetting her panties. She looked away and blushed. “Really? Well, at least that will keep you from making fun out of me.”

Then the stream died away and she quickly bend her knees, crossed her thighs and in this half-squatting position she squeezed her panties as well as she could. A last gush of pee trickled onto the ground. She straightened her back again, turned around, picked up her slippers and continued her walk on the path with me. On the way back, we didn’t talk anymore about what happened, and she only three times grabbed her skirt to make sure it didn’t touch her panties.

Within ten minutes we reached her home. While I sat down and picked up a hifi magazine, she went upstairs and I expected to hear her rumbling about in the bathroom. To my amazement I heard her coming back down within half a minute. When I looked up from the magazine, she stood right in front of me, legs slightly apart, wearing a very short white sports skirt instead of her long one. She said nothing, just looked at me. I stared to her in disbelief. We were friends, but had no relation. I had seen her in short skirts before, but never so clearly challenging. “Still wearing the same panties?”, I asked, knowing that she just had not had the time to change them and dry herself. In answer she came closer and just said: “Look for yourself.” Putting down my magazine, I reached for the hem of her skirt and slowly I lifted it with both hands. It reveiled light-blue plain panties, just below her waist, sporting a dark stain centered in her crotch and spreading around for about fifteen centimeters, While she still stood there, I got out of the chair and lifted up her skirt from behind. Same story. I just said “Wow!”.

Then she turned around and told me to follow while she entered the garden. Arrived there, she squatted down and clearly made preparations to pee her panties again. Now I couldn’t hold myself any longer. “Please, stop it for a moment. Can I join you?” Playing she was shocked, she looked up to me. “Just join me? Right as you stand there? C’me on, you won’t get away with a soaked pair of jeans.” But she rose to her feet and directed me into the house again. “Wait here. I’ll get you what you need.” Hurrying up the stairs, she clearly showed her wet panties under her skirt. Almost as if I knew what was coming, I started to take off my shoes, socks, and jeans. Just as I put them on a chair, now only being dressed in a shirt and my underwear, reveiling an undeniable bulge in my pants, she dashed down again and gigglingly handed me one of her tiny skirts. It was a very simple model, just a band of fabric of about thirty centimeters with an elastic waistband. I slipped it on. The skirt covered my underwear enough to be useful, and since it was all but tight, my bulge dissapeared completely. My girlfriend circled me and giggled again. “It does not fit you. You have no hips, and those furry legs really seem silly. Still, it will do.” She entered the garden again and I followed her like in a dream.

Arrived where she wanted to be, she turned and took my hands in hers. Standing about a meter from eachother, we spread our legs, wider this time, and waited. I felt a great urge to pee, but wanted to see her reaction. After ten seconds, she said: “Well, now you know how it feels, standing in the open and knowing that someone watches you while you are going to pee your panties.” I smiled. “Are you ready? I am.” She nodded. “Yes, I am.” She winked with her left eye. “Now?” As an answer I looked down towards my skirt, held my breath, and carefully let go some pee. I felt my underwear eagerly absorb it as it touched the fabric. I peed some more. Then I looked my friend straight into her eyes and told her I’d wet myself. Quickly she lifted my skirt with her right hand and checked. When she saw the stained front of my pants, she smiled and let the skirt fall down again. Then she put both her arms in her sides and threw her long hair over her shoulder with a rapid head movement. She looked down to her own skirt and I heard a soft, hissing sound. While she carefully peed her panties again, I lifted her skirt for the second time and watched the pee as it surged through the fabric, making the blue panties seem like interwoven with silver threads in the bright sunlight. The stream soon soaked the panties again, and finding no way out, gradually trickled down onto the ground.

With a groan, I let myself go, and soon my whole crotch felt warm and moist, while a steady stream flowed from under my skirt between my legs onto the grass. Now my girlfriend suddenly reached under my arms forward to my skirt, lifted it above my waist, and thereby pushing my arms higher, so that I lifted her skirt altogether as well. For one second, she gazed at my underwear, showing a completely stained front and a big bulge with pee flowing around it. Then, she came closer, and pushed her crotch against mine. Her hands let go of my skirt and grabbed my ass, pulling my wet underwear tightly against her wet panties. I still peed, and she must have felt that. She peed as well, and I sure as hell felt that. While still peeing, she started to move rhythmically with her hips, and I could nothing but follow her lambada. We stood there for thirty seconds, peeing our panties and firmly pushing our crotches together. We didn’t kiss. Then I felt another function taking over in my abdomen. I started to push back harder, and she immediately reacted. It took us five more seconds to reach the point of no return. She closed her eyes and groaned. I slipped my hands under her skirt and firmly squeezed her wet buttocks. Then I came. My friend let out a high-pitched squeek and shuddered over all her body. She
took fifteen seconds to complete the orgasm.

We held each other for quite a time. Then, we stepped back a little, so that our skirts fell down properly. We both did not feel at all like taking them off or changing our underwear. Instead, she entered the house to make some tea and I sat down on a garden chair, careful to pull up my skirt first. Amazingly, the front of my skirt still was still completely unstained. We sat there, drinking tea and casually letting something find its way out, for the rest of the day, until sunset forced us inside to prevent our bladders from catching cold. Because, as she said, it was nice to wet yourself when you could get away with it so easily, but sadly that was not always the case. I could nothing but agree.

Concert Washout - a Story

 

Note: This story contains Female Desperation, and Accidental & Deliberate Wetting. A recent forum post asked about early experiences so perhaps I should tell about mine. I never had any problems when I was younger; as far as I can remember I never wet my knickers or my bed until my late teens, although I can recall several incidents involving friends. In most cases they wet themselves laughing, probably the main cause of accidents for teenage girls. In my case I was a poised and confident student of 19 when I first experienced the thrill and embarassment of weeing myself, though as two of my friends also soaked their pants at the same time we had a good laugh about it. The three of us had gone to an open air pop concert in the country on a gloriously hot summer day. Of course, there were the usual chemical toilets, which we risked using during the morning but which were increasingly foul later in the day. Anway, we found ourselves a pleasant place on the hillside with a good view of the stage but away from the main crush. We danced a lot and drank large bottles of Pepsi or water as we rested, sprawled out on the grass. By mid–afternoon we all needed to wee but as girls do, kept putting it off. As we sat down to rest after a particularly wild dance I noticed Carrie holding herself between her legs as we lay panting for breath on the grass. She saw me looking, announcing to us all that she had almost peed her knickers during the last dance and was so desperate she wasn’t sure she could reach the loo even if there wasn’t a queue. There was, as we could see from where we sat. We would also have to pick up all our gear and push through a crowd to get there.Rosie admitted that she too badly needed to wee as did I, suddenly becoming nervous about what might happen if I didn’t go off to the toilets very soon. I belatedly realised that I was in some danger of a rather embarassing accident, but then grown women didn’t wet themselves, did they? Apparently they did, and sometimes deliberately as well. Carrie looked at the queues then looked at us, saying, “I’ll never make it through that lot. I’ll pee myself before I’m halfway there anyway so I’m just going to sit here and do it in my knickers – its warm and they’ll soon dry! I looked at Rosie who was picking up her things ready to head for the toilets. We both looked at Carrie who had pulled her skirt back and was sitting with her knees up and legs slightly apart. We could clearly see her blue knickers which suddenly darkened as she just sat there and wet them, a stream of wee running down the slope in front of her. We were speechless but the sight of Carrie just letting go made us both more aware of our own need. “God, that feels better,“she announced. “ Well come on, surely you two have wet your knickers before – it’s easier than the trek to those smelly old porta–loos. “I have not,“I growled, “I haven’t wet myself as far back as I can remember and I don’t intend to do it now,“though with an increasing suspicion that I was in a situation where it might just happen. Rosie just grinned and said it wouldn’t be her first accident and at least this time she was wearing a skirt. Apparently she had wet herself some weeks earlier when walking home rather drunk from a friends party. The need to pee had just crept up on her and before she realised what was happening she had soaked her pants and jeans, much to the amusement of her mother who had been waiting up for her.We sat there giggling like kids at the story. Even Rosie was laughing about it till she stopped suddenly and clasped herself between her legs. “Don’t make me laugh anymore or I’ll wet myself again.” she spluttered. To which Carrie responded that if it was that bad it would be running down her legs long before she reached a toilet, reminding her of the long queues. Rosie looked across to the nearest lines and then looked back at Carrie. “You’re right” she grinned with a resigned sigh, “If I’m going to wet my pants I might as well do it here as there. At least it will only be you two who know about it, and Carrie’s pants are wet anyway!” With that she sat down on the slope, skirt pulled clear as Carrie had done, legs drawn up and apart with her knickers clearly visible. She sat there for a while, staring across to the stage. “I can’t do it,” she moaned, “I’m bursting but I can’t let go.” Carrie looked at her. “That happens to me sometimes. Just relax and think about sitting on the loo, then just let it flow.” I began to wonder at that point just how often Carrie wet herself rather than use a toilet.Rosie sat there, eyes closed. Then she stiffened and I watched fascinated as a jet of pee spurted through her pants. She relaxed a moment and then the flood came. A torrent soaked her pink cotton knickers and trickled down the slope away from her before soaking into the ground. She seemed to wee for ages and I watched, intrigued by the sight of my friend sitting there wetting her knickers. “Oh God that feels better,” murmered Rosie, “What a relief. Oh its hot and it tickles. Its running up my bum!” The flow died away and she pulled some tissues from her bag and mopped her thighs. “You’re right, “ she said, “I would never have hung on till I reached the loo. That’s so much better, even if I have got a wet bum.“They both looked at me. Despite the pain in my bladder I backed off doing what the others had done – I was just too embarrassed. Before we could talk any longer a new group began to play. My bursting bladder had me dancing anyway so I jumped up, hoping the movement would help me hold it. Well it did for a while. As the music died away I suddenly felt a warm spreading wetness between my legs. Instinctively I tried to stem the leak but to no avail. The trickle down my thighs turned into a flood. All I could do was stand there looking foolish, wetting my knickers like a silly child. In my surprise at what was happening I cried out, “Oh, Oh, Oh! I’ve wet myself. I’m weeing in my knickers. Oooh! Its running down my legs!” I seemed to wee for ages, standing there legs spread, staring in embarrassed surprise at the growing puddle around my feet and the wet streaks down my legs. A warm damp feeling tickled my bottom as the wetness spread through my cotton pants.“Well, if you want everybody to know what you’ve done that’s the way to do it,” laughed Carrie, stopping to put her arm around me as I started to cry. “Don’t worry,” she said, “Its happened to all of us but it’s much better to quietly wet your pants before you lose control. That way no–one need know you’ve had a little acccident.” Embarrassed as I was I had to admit that I been rather silly. After drying my legs with tissues and a spare tee–shirt I began to feel better. I didn’t even find the feel of my wet knickers uncomfortable, in fact as I danced the feeling of the wet material rubbing my clit made me feel quite randy, though at the time I thought it was more to do with the music!An hour or so later we needed to wee again and as we were all still damp simply sat on the grass and wet our pants again. This time I found the feelings of naughtiness at doing something so forbidden quite exciting and paid more attention to the exquisite feeling of hot pee washing over my crotch. I began to appreciate why Carrie seemed to find pleasure in wetting herself. It was late when we left and before walking the couple of miles home wet ourselves again. I enjoyed that walk.My parents were away so I had the house to myself for the weekend. I needed to wee again by the time I reached home, but instead of using the loo thought “so what, I haven’t used a loo most of the day.” Standing in the back garden I just let go again, loving the feeling as the hot wee filled by knickers and ran down my legs. As the flow died away I rubbed myself to a wonderful orgasm. As a new source of pleasure this was exquisite.Since then I often wet my knickers when the opportunities for such private pleasures present themselves. I have managed to avoid public accidents, though there have been times when I have wet myself on a country walk or on a beach. I’ve only wet the bed once and don’t think I could hide this from Mum if it happened too often (I do my own washing so she has never come across wet underwear). It happened one morning when I again had the house to myself. I woke up desperate but was too lazy to get up and go to the loo, so lay there, rubbing myself to help me hold it. Then I came, and promply lost control and wet my pants as I lay there. No–one knew about this accident except me, but one day Mum is going to notice the large stain on my matress. I think I will tell her I was drunk and had an accident when I didn’t wake up in time.
By: Poseidon

Willow Wets

 

Willow had long been a fan of wetting herself -- in fact, she couldn't even remember how it had started. When she lived with her parents, and then in a college dorm, the opportunities for enjoying that activity had been few and far between, but now that she had her own apartment, she could partake in that particular pleasure as often as she wanted. And she almost always wanted to.

It was a lazy Sunday, which Willow thought were the best days for having "accidents." The night before, she hadn't gone to the toilet before bed, and woke up fairly desperate that morning. (Willow frequently went to sleep with a rather full bladder, but it was less common for her to wake up still desperate, as she often woke up to wet sheets instead.) She lazed around in bed for a while, and contemplated relieving herself right there, but instead got up and went though her usual morning routine, which of course did not involve using the toilet -- in fact, her toilet was rarely used at all. By the time she was making her usual breakfast of toast with jam and a large mug of tea, she was fidgeting quite a lot, and had even resorted to even grabbing her crotch a bit to postpone the inevitable. She made it though breakfast without leaking, but an hour later she had progressed from fidgeting to squirming to flat-out bouncing, was holding herself constantly, and even moaning occasionally. Still, she held on. She loved it when she made a choice to wet herself, and the feeling of deliberately releasing her bladder and letting her pee escape into her clothing, but there was something even better about having a real accident -- at least, as real as an accident could be when she had done nothing to prevent it.

Despite her determination, it was only a few more minutes before the pressure became too much. She spurted, and felt the panties against her crotch grow hot and wet. She gripped herself even harder, but less than a minute later another, longer stream escaped, and she could feel her jeans growing damp under her hands. Willow crossed her legs even tighter and clenched her muscles, but only managed to halt the leaking for a few seconds before her bladder gave up entirely, and urine came flooding out. Her already wet crotch became soaked, and almost immediately after that pee began rushing down the insides of her legs, leaving dark, glistening streaks that widened as her bladder continued emptying. She could feel the wetness seeping up and around her butt, and spreading around her legs. Her formerly white socks turned yellow, and an impressively large puddle formed on the floor. Finally, she finished relieving herself, although excess pee still dripped from her pants to the floor. She looked at the mess she had made, and took a strange sort of pride in how much of her jeans were dark with liquid, and the size of her puddle. Although Willow kept these kinds of activities private, she did enjoy how visible wetting her pants was -- it would have been immediately obvious to anyone who saw her that she had peed, not into a toilet, but directly into her pants! With this thought, she began to rub her crotch and inner thighs through her still-dripping pants, moaning softly with pleasure as she did so.

Only when her pee grew cold and sticky did she stop and clean up. She spent the next several hours being satisfyingly unproductive and waiting for her bladder to refill. However, when she started squirming again, it wasn't because of her bladder. This time, it was her bowels that were becoming more and more insistent on voiding their contents. In order to increase how desperate she felt, Willow walked around her house.

After a few minutes, she felt her load turtling, but she managed to avoid messing her pants for the moment. Once she had regained a reasonable amount of control, she pulled down her pants and underwear, and was satisfied to see skid marks on the otherwise white panty lining. She pulled her pants back up and continued to walk around, occasionally stretching and even squatting. The moments when she almost lost control came closer and closer together, and increased in severity. After a particularly intense cramp, Willow knew she would have no choice but to fill her panties soon. She made her way outside to her backyard, which was surrounded by tall, thick hedges. Once outside, she decided to examine the inside of her panties again, and was rewarded by the sight of numerous new brown streaks.

With her pants still down, however, another wave of desperation hit, and Willow knew that her bowels were seconds away from emptying, whether she wanted them to or not. She only just managed to get her panties back up around her hips (her pants were left dropped around her knees) before she felt her load turtling again. This time, however, she was unable to avoid soiling herself. Her poop started to come out, and tented the seat of her panties before smushing a bit. Willow then gave up on trying to maintain any semblance of continence, and relaxed. Immediately and without any effort, a second, longer log slid out. She could feel the warm mass of poop pressing against her butt, and her panties were now distinctly heavy and sagging. She lightly ran her hand over the back of her panties, and discovered that the bulge was already quite obvious. However, Willow wasn't done yet. She squatted slightly and pushed, so the last of her load was also deposited into her underwear. She also felt a familiar hot wetness running down her legs for the second time that day, and realized that in voiding her bowels, she had also, quite unintentionally and without even realizing she was doing so, voided her mostly-refilled bladder.

Although she had completely relieved herself, Willow continued to stand in her yard for a few moments, taking a strange sort of pride in the mess she had created. She then pulled her pee-streaked pants back up -- further squashing her sizable load as she did so -- and walked inside, causing her poop to shift further into the base of her panties, and her gait became a sort of waddle. She made her way to the bathroom, where she positioned herself in front of the full-length mirror. Although the wet patches were a dead giveaway that she had peed herself, there was minimal visual evidence that she had also soiled herself, since her pants were loose enough that most of the bulge was hidden (she could just barely see it, but she knew what to look for), and a brown color hadn't yet seeped though to the outside of her pants. She then dropped her pants again, and examined how the back of her panties looked.

Now, it was clear that she'd had two "accidents." Her panties were made of thick white cotton, and not only was the front of her crotch wet, but also decidedly yellow. She twisted a bit so she could see her rear in the mirror, and observed that her load was causing her panties to sag quite a lot between her legs -- she even bounced on the balls of her feet a few times so she could feel the weight jiggle. Furthermore, the seat of her panties already had a noticeable brown stain on them. She grinned, appreciating the irony of standing with pee-soaked, poop-filled panties only a few feet away from a toilet. Willow wasn't quite done enjoying her "accident," so she pulled her pants back up again and wandered around her house for a while, before finally cleaning up, showering, and changing.

Peeing Humiliation. Pantys Pee Story, Dominant Water Punishment

 

A hot panties peeing story from Retro Cascade Knicker Wetting Magazine.

After the phone sex I had with Amanda (Miss Johns, my college lecturer) we had both promised to refrain from any sexual indulgence until our next arranged meeting the following afternoon. We would be feeling very horny and we had also undertaken to resist relieving our bladders from lunchtime onwards. I was more than happy to agree, "But don't forget!" I had reminded her when I phoned, "you take us for PE last session and you don't want me to wet myself during that, do you?"
"No," she said, "it would be nicer if we are both having to hold on, be a good girl 'till then, bye!" The 'phone went dead, leaving me tingling with anticipation and my hand still in my wet panties. It was as much as I could do to keep my promise even then, in fact, I automatically began to rub myself and would probably been unable to resist a final climax, but my quim was raw from all the attention it had received on the 'phone sex earlier.

Here's my paantie pee story: The following morning I awoke finding that I had wet the bed! No doubt, dreaming of what had happened the previous day. As a child I was still wetting the bed at 10 years old and although with specialist help, it became less frequent. But I have lapses, so I use a waterproof cover beneath the sheets. Occasionally I wear incontinence pants, like I had that night, but I probably pee'd quite a lot, so I woke in an absolute pool of pee. On the way to college, as I walked, each step caused the fabric of my tight panties to slide over my aroused clit. I longed to go in the college toilets and bring myself off, but I refrained. By the lunchtime break my panties were so sticky with my excitement of what was to come, that when I went to the loo and lowered them to pee, my clitty was poking out! and when I pee'd, I managed a small orgasm. That was my last allowed pee until my date with Amanda and by three o'clock, I wanted to pee badly and by 4 and I was dribbling into my gym pants. I wondered how Amanda was managing and maybe she too had started to wet herself? I was late entering the gym and Miss Johns was sat on the vaulting horse, her legs folded under her so I couldn't see how she had faired. She was directing a group of girls in an aerobics routine, however, she must have been aware that if I did vigorous exercises, I would most certainly pee myself. She told me to do rope and mat work on my own. This was to prove very tempting, as climbing with the rope between my legs stopped me peeing, but had every nerve screaming as I totted on the brink of orgasm.

You can come down now, I want to inspect your panties.

While Amanda was directing the rest of the group, my thighs were burning from the friction of the rope and I was now at the top with my arms wrapped around the tie beam. She kept looking up at me and must have been able to see my red locked thighs straining together to avoid peeing and from my vantage point, I could see she was sitting on her foot with the heel pressed tight against her vagina, rocking slowly to and fro, desperate for a pee. Finally, as she dismissed the group, she walked over and stood beneath the rope and shouted up, "You can come down now, I want to inspect your panties." I released my hold on the tie beam and started to slide down the rope and with that, my bladder relaxed and the pee spurted uncontrollably from my aching fanny. It went through my panties as if they weren't there! Some was going down the rope and some sprayed through the air and fell on Amanda's face and shoulders. As I touched the ground, I reached for her, but she pushed me roughly away. I was so sorry and stuttered, "I ddidn't mmean to do it, iiit was an accident, III couldn't help it!"
Amanda was clearly not having any of that and retorted, "You bloody little baby!" I started to cry as I stood there with both hands holding my self between the legs, together with my school gym knickers soaked. Amanda was also wet with my pee, she looked so angry I was afraid everything was ruined. I must have looked pathetic as Amanda said to me more gently this time, "Lift that skirt and lean over the vaulting horse." I did as I was asked and watched as Amanda went to the storage cupboard and returned with a thin cane. "Now let's have a look at you." I felt her hand between my legs having a feel of my pants. "Is that ALL the pee? Or have you come as well? C'mon, tell me!" she demanded. I stuttered, "Well Iii'm only, iiit's just . . . "

Amanda shrieked and immediately pee'd through her panties

"Oh stop dithering and let me see for myself." And with that, Amanda hooked her thumbs in the waist of my panties and pulled them down to my knees. I could feel her hot breath near my bottom as she inspected the crutch of my panties. "There is a bit of a cum stain in there, but I don't think you can have cum properly, so you'll still be randy when I get you home. However, as you have pee'd on me, albeit from a great height, I think a few strokes of the cane will make you think twice before you break your promises again!"

Later, on the way home I had my hand holding Amanda's fanny over her panties while she drove, I knew what I was going to do. As Amanda stopped the car in her drive and turned off the ignition, I took hold of some of her pubic hair and with one swift jerk, I pulled as hard as I could and came away with quite a bunch of hairs. Amanda shrieked and immediately pee'd through her panties, it was a long thick stream, it saturated her skirt and the seat and as she complained to me, I launched my assault of, "You dirty little bitch! It's YOU that's behaving like a little girl and now you need to be treated like one!" It was now Amanda's turn to start to blubber as she rubbed herself. I shouted, "If losing a little pubic hair distresses you that much, let's have you upstairs and I'll soon have that problem solved, let's have you hairless!" I marched her into her house and straight into her bedroom where I removed her sopping wet skirt and panties, she was clearly excited and more so when I tied her wrists and ankles to the four corners of the bed. Then, from the bathroom I brought some shaving cream, together with a razor and bowl of hot water. After finishing trimming her bush with the scissors, I bathed her sad looking fanny with the hot water and the shaving foam as she strained against the straps to bring her legs together and try to rub harder against my hand. "Please don't tease me anymore, you're going to make me wee!" I gently drew the cold blade over her labia and then, when I had finished, I squatted over her foamy mess and rinsed off thoroughly with my at least half of my bladder contents, saving the rest for later. I then slid forward so that my thighs were on either side of Amanda's face, her nose rubbed on my clitoris and her tongue darted to and fro and the sensations of ecstasy swept over me, I panted, "I am going to make you drink the rest of my wee, can you drink it all?" In answer, she increased her rubbing and as the waves of my climax hit me, I began to pee into her mouth. She did manage to swallow quite a lot, but much of it soaked her face and hair. After I'd finished my peey task, I went and cleaned myself up a bit and went back and untied the bedraggled and bald beavered Amanda and cheerfully said on my way out, "Thanks for a great time baldy! I'll see you at college tomorrow!"

Wet Seduction

 

 

 

 

Ben worked in one of the many offices in the city. His job wasn't as glamorous as it sounds. He was the filling clerk, admin lackey.

However, Ben wasn't complaining too much. At least he had a job, which was more than could be said for a number of his friends. The other perk was the people Ben got to work with. On the whole they were a good bunch and some of the women were stunning to look at, not that they paid Ben much attention. He wasn't important enough.

But on the whole they provided Ben with plenty of material for fantasies. A number of the women were middle aged, which was great for Ben as he had a thing for older women.

Ben was only 19, and constantly fantasised about getting off with any of the women. Brenda in particular was a regular in his nighttime fantasies. She was perfect.

She was in her early forties and divorced. In Ben's opinion she had a perfect figure, nice and curvy with large breasts, long brown hair and a smiley, cheeky face. She was always nice and friendly with Ben; which was a good thing because she was his boss. But all the same Ben just couldn't stop fantasising about her.

It didn't help that she always seemed to wear suits for the office that seemed to accentuate her figure and show off her large breasts. Ben was forever catching glimpses down her top as she leant over to talk to him or he was standing next her at her desk as she explained some new piece of work; always managing to lean over for something. Ben especially liked it when she wore a trousers suit as he got the best of both worlds, a glimpse down her top and the image of her lovely round ass squeezed into the trousers. Ben was convinced that on these days she never wore any knickers, as there was no hint of a panty line; the mental image of Brenda walking around with no knickers on fuelled Ben's fantasies for days afterwards. If only she'd do that with her skirts where he might be able to catch a glimpse of her pussy, he often caught glimpses of legs when she turned in her chair or some other movement.

The only thought that spoilt this happy state of affairs, apart from the thought that he might never get past just glimpsing his bosses cleavage, was the rumour that she'd had a few affairs with some of the upper managers. To Ben this meant that she was well above considering him for any sexual activity.

There was nothing particularly different about this day compared to any other day as Ben arrived at work. It was the middle of summer and as a result things were quiet. The company dealt with a number of administration project for local colleges and universities and the summer was always a quiet time.

Ben sat down at his desk and started working through the day's jobs, trying to draw them out so he didn't have to do much.

"Morning Ben" came a voice over his cubicle wall as Brenda walked past.

"Morning Bren" Ben said leaning back in his chair to watch her pass, and to see what she was wearing. It was the grey trousers suit.

Ben smiled to himself and returned to his work. A white blouse was great because it often showed her bra off as well as affording a glimpse down her top.

The day carried on as usual except Ben found himself catching Brenda watching him from her office, or spending more time than usual checking figures with him. This had given him the opportunity, when she was examining the screen, to get a good look down her top. This particular blouse gave him a wonderful view of her lovely large breasts with their deep cleavage.

For her part Brenda couldn't miss the attention her manner of dress afforded her from Ben.

It had been like this for the 18 months Ben had been working there. At first she hadn't noticed, but over time she caught him glancing down her top or at her legs when she was sitting down. At first she'd been dismissive of this, he was young and she liked dressing in a way that made her feel nice. Too often larger women felt they need to hide their bodies away, but Brenda thought that was wrong and dressed in away that flattered her and showed off her curves. After a while though she found that she began to enjoy the attention Ben was showing her. She liked the fact that she had some kind of power over him; she imagined that he fantasised about her when he lay in bed touching him self.

And so her little game began. Brenda began to dress a little more revelling and made sure that Ben noticed. She loved watching him trying surreptitiously to check her out; the attention made her feel wonderful.

Now, all these months later she was the one thinking about Ben as she touched herself at night. She now constantly thought about all the naughty things she'd love to do to Ben. It had got to the point where she needed to do something about it, and so today was the day. All the conditions where right, most of the other staff were on holiday and the few that were left were normally gone just before five every day.

Brenda sat in her office watching the clock, feeling very nervous. Finally the clock pronounced it was 5.00. She stood up and went to get a drink from the water cooler. She was pleased to see that the office was empty. She'd allowed the few remaining staff to leave early; Ben was currently off sorting out some accounts anomaly. Brenda returned to her office and waited.

About 5 minutes later Ben returned and sat down at his desk looking around. He'd obviously noticed that everyone else had left. This was it; she undid the top button of her blouse, rearranging it so it showed more than usual.

Brenda walked over to Ben's desk breathing deeply. "We've shut up shop early today" she said, "I was just waiting for you to return. What was the problem with the accounts?" She leant over concentrating on the spreadsheet on Ben's screen.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Ben staring down her blouse. He'd never seen so much of her on view.

He tried to concentrate on the spreadsheet, mumbling something about incorrect payment codes, reversal of funds and cost reallocation, all the time he was sneaking glances down her top.

Brenda smiled to herself.

She looked over at Ben, "Are you enjoying the view?" she asked archly.

Ben flushed red immediately. "What?" He stammered.

Brenda continued to lean over, "I said are you enjoying the view down my top?"

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help but look," He said quickly, his eyes flicking down her top again.

Brenda smiled, "That's not what I asked Ben. I asked if you enjoyed the view."

Ben looked confused, Brenda didn't seem angry. On the contrary she seemed to be finding the situation highly amusing. Ben's mind raced; maybe his fantasies were about to come true.

"Erm, well, yes I like the view." Ben said finally, his eyes again flickered down her top.

Brenda continued smiling, "So you like my large breasts then?" she asked.

Ben was conscious of the erection bulging in his trousers, "Yes I do." Ben said looking up at Brenda.

Brenda stood up, "So you like big breasts Ben" She said smoothing her blouse over her chest. The material was thin enough for her bra to show through clearly. "Is there anything else about me you like?"

Ben swallowed, "Look Brenda, I didn't mean to cause any offence. I couldn't help but look."

Brenda smiled down at him. She was enjoying this so much. She could feel her pussy getting moist with the excitement of the situation. "Ben, I'm not angry. It's very flattering to have such a handsome young man checking me out. Now, what else do you like about me?"

Ben looked around the deserted office, and the full impact of the situation hit him. They were alone, Brenda had sent the other staff home early, and now she was asking him what he liked about her body and that she wasn't annoyed that he'd been looking down her top.

He swallowed again, "I really like your breasts; they're so big and pretty. Your arse is fabulous; so round and curvy. I love the way those trousers are so tight over it." Ben smiled, "I don't think you wear any underwear when you wear them."

"You're quite right Ben. I don't wear any knickers when I wear trousers. It makes me feel naughty to walk around the office with the seam of my 'tight' trousers rubbing against my pussy. And as I'm wearing trousers today, do you think I have any knickers on?" Brenda replied.

Ben hesitated.

"Let me help you" Brenda said.

Then whilst Ben watched she pulled her blouse out of her trousers and let it drop. "There" she said "Now there's no creases from my blouse to confuse you. Can you see the outline of my knickers?"

Brenda's blouse now hung down over her arse so Ben couldn't see it.

"I can't see your arse Brenda, your blouse is in the way." Ben said as he cottoned on to what she was doing.

"Oh, silly me" she giggled, "Would you like me to take it off?"

"I think it would help" Ben said earnestly.

Brenda began unbuttoning her blouse as Ben watched. Finally Brenda pulled the blouse off and dropped it on Ben's desk.

Ben stared at Brenda's large breasts. Her dark nipples were clearly visible through the material, all puckered up and erect.

"Is that better?" Brenda asked.

Ben couldn't help but stare at Brenda's breasts. Never had he imaged he would get this chance. "Much better" Ben said happily.

"Now do you think I'm wearing any knickers?" Brenda asked again, she turned slowly on the spot giving him the full 360o view.

Ben watched her drinking in every detail; he looked down at Brenda's crotch. He was sure he could see the outline of her pussy lips against the material. "No."

Brenda smiled even broader now. "You're quite right Ben; I never wear knickers when I'm wearing trousers. Now, before I slip these off I need you to tell me what you would like me to do."

Ben looked up confused, "I'm not sure I understand?"

"Well Ben, as your manager it's my duty to keep an eye on my staff, just as they keep an eye on me." She said smiling, "And as part of that duty I have to manager what my staff look at on the Internet."

"Ah" Ben said, comprehension dawning.

"Yes indeed Ben. So know what sites you look at, and I must say they make pretty interesting viewing. By rights I should report you to IT for viewing some of those sites, but I'm not going to. Mainly because I never knew that most of them existed and I've enjoyed viewing them myself." Again she smiled down at Ben.

"Now there is one site in particular that is rather pertinent to the situation we're in now. You see I really need to bathroom, but after viewing some of your wetter sites I'd like you to tell me what you want me to do. Should I do it here? Or..." she left the question hanging.

Ben's mind was reeling. Not only had Brenda found out what he thought was his little secret she'd actually started using the sites herself and was now offering to do the one thing he though he'd never get a woman to do. This was one naughty woman and she was offering herself to him! Not one of the managers but him; just a lowly office clerk. This was a dream come true and Ben wasn't about to let it slip away.

"I think I'd like you to do it here" He said.

Brenda smiled, "Here" she pointed to the spot she was standing one, "Or on your lap?"

"My lap" Ben said without a moments hesitation.

Brenda stepped forward and straddled Ben's lap and lowered herself on to him. She could feel him hard cock press against her pussy. Leaning back she unclasped her bra and pulled it off letting her breasts swing free.

"You can touch them," she said to Ben, who wasted no time in grabbing her breasts rubbing his hands all over them.

"Suck them" Brenda ordered watching Ben lower his head to one of her nipples and start licking and sucking at the hard dark brown flesh. She ran a hand through his hair and held him against her as she did the thing he wanted her to do. She relaxed her bladder and started pissing herself. Her trousers were quickly soaked. She felt the warm liquid seep around her arse and over her crotch.

This was a practice she'd never indulged in before, but after view the sites Ben so avidly surfed she'd tried it at home alone fully dressed in the bath and revelled in the dirtiness of it. From that moment on she'd started avidly surfing Ben's sites at work and at home. Up until now she'd led a sexually sheltered life. Her marriage had been very tame and when her bastard of a husband had left for a younger, more active women she'd been hit hard. It had taken her a while to over come this and now she fully intended to enjoy herself in anyway that took her fancy.

Trawling through the websites night after night had shown her sexual acts that she had never dreamed of. Some she was instantly attracted to; she now owned a variety of dildos and vibrators. Not to mention the underwear she'd started buying. The other things she'd seen, whilst intriguing, weren't yet to her taste; but this was only a matter of time. Now she'd discovered this side of her nature she wanted to fully embrace it. And judging from the reaction from Ben she'd found someone who'd be as willing as she was.

Ben buried his face into Brenda's magnificent breasts and began licking a kissing the soft warm flesh. His searching tongue found one of her large nipples and he sucked to with relish. Suddenly he felt the warmth of Brenda's piss soaking through his trousers and covering his balls and stiff cock.

The flow seemed to go on forever until his lap was comprehensively soaked. Brenda pulled his head back and clamped her mouth over his. Her tongue dived straight in and flicked over his tongue as she pulled at his shirt undoing the buttons.

"You've made me a very naughty woman Ben!" Brenda said as she pulled away from him and slipped off his lap.

She stepped back and unbuttoning her trousers pulled them off. Ben eyed her round backside as she bent over to pull the trousers off.

Brenda then knelt in front of Ben and pulled his trousers open, freeing his cock from his shorts she devoured it kissing and licking the sticky pre-cum from its swollen head.

Ben watch in mounting pleasure as Brenda forced his entire length into her mouth flicking her tongue around the base of his cock. He watched as one hand slid between her legs as Brenda began frigging herself.

Soon Ben felt he was on the brink of coming and Brenda must have sensed this as she let his twitch cock slip out of her mouth as she stood up and straddled him again.

"Taste Me," She said as she brought her hand up to Ben's mouth, who eagerly began sucking her sticking juices from her fingers.

Her other hand guided Ben's cock in to her soaking pussy as she lowered herself on to him. Clamping her pussy around his shaft she began riding him hard forcing his cock deep inside her. Ben's hands once again found her tits and he rubbed and squeezed her nipples as she fucked him.

"Oh Christ I'm coming" Ben cried as he felt Brenda grind herself hard against him. Moments later Brenda fell his hot cum flood her pussy.

She slipped a hand between her legs and began rubbing her clit hard as she pumped Ben dry.

"Oh YES!" she cried as her orgasm flooded through her. She didn't stop and rode Ben to another orgasm feeling their combined juices leaking out of her. She slumped forward on to Ben mashing her tits in his face.

They stayed like this for what seemed like an age.

Finally Brenda slid back off Ben and stood before him, he could see his cum running down the inside of her leg.

"Well Ben, did you enjoy that?" She said looking down at him.

"You bet" Ben said letting his eyes rove over her body. "I've been dreaming about this ever since I started here."

Brenda bent over and pulled her trousers on. "Well if you want this doesn't have to be a one off thing Ben. From what I've seen" she inclined her head towards the computer, "You're probably the kinkiest man I've ever met. Those sites were a real eye opener."

She leaned closer and whispered in his ear, "In fact I'd like to try out the things I'm seeing and that requires another person."

 

Needing a pee in the night. The camping trip

 

 

 

 Last July I went to an open air festival where I pitched a tent up to stay in over the weekend - but it was an extremely cold, wet and windy weekend and if it wasn‘t for the fact I‘d come over 300 miles for this do, I‘d have gone home again!

But I was there for the weekend, I went to bed on the Friday night wearing a t-shirt and white nylon shorts and snuggled down in my sleeping bag inside my tent. Later on my bladder woke me up, this is extremely unusual for me, (but then it‘s extremely unusual for me to have drank 2 pints of shandy during the evening). A group of us had been sitting in someone‘s caravan talking and writing songs (away from the weather outside). It seemed a good idea at the time, but I was regretting it now, my bladder was sending out urgent signals. I glanced at my watch it was 12.30 am, oh darn it, there‘s hours to go until morning! I had two choices: I could lay there in the warm and hold it all night, or I could go outside in the cold, dark, wind and rain and pee on the grass and spend the rest of the night freezing cold, because once I get cold I find it very difficult to get warm again, I‘ve always been like that I feel the cold very easily and have trouble staying warm. So I figured I‘d lay there and hold it. At first it didn‘t seem too bad, but within about an hour I‘d gone from being bursting to pee to being very, very desperate to go, (bedwetting has never been my thing and besides, I‘d have to sleep in my sleeping bag again tomorrow night) - no, I‘d have to hold on that‘s all.

I soon realised that it would be easier said than done as my desperation was increasing by the second and the hands on my clock didn‘t seem to be moving very fast at all, I tried sitting up: "ouch!" I gasped out loud, that wasn‘t a good idea at all and it was cold out of my sleeping bag. I lay back down and gently rubbed myself through the material of my white nylon shorts, it was very, very arousing, especially on an overfull bladder, every so often I had to go from rubbing to frantically holding as the desperation waves were flowing over me too frequently for my liking and they were becoming much more intense too, but I held on to my piss through gritted teeth.

I really didn‘t know how I was going to hold on until morning I didn‘t know if I could, but I knew I HAD TO, because there was another reason why I COULDN‘T go outside - I shamefully admit that right by the tent door where I‘d have to undo the zip there was a big spider, I know it sex sounds silly but everyone is scared of something and with me it just happens to be spiders, so I couldn‘t go outside. I lay in my sleeping bag rubbing and holding myself through those erotic shorts, desperately hoping I could hang on until morning, I was sooooo desperate to pee my whole body felt tingly and my toes were curled up, spasms of desperation followed by spasms of an impending orgasm alternated within me for the whole of that night, my hands worked overtime as they held back the impending flood and at the same time almost took me to heaven as I rubbed through my shorts.

I no longer felt the cold - I was very hot, but that spider didn‘t move, I had gotten so hot through being aroused that I would‘ve gone out and braved the weather if that big scary monster thing wasn‘t blocking my exit, but I knew that with the spider there, once I‘d left my tent I‘d disturb it and it would move and I wouldn‘t be able to come back into the tent at all until it had been found and for that I needed daylight.
Eventually the sunrise filtered through the tent and the rain eased off and I could hear people moving about outside going to the toilets and showers, ooohhh just the thought of a toilet at that moment was like heaven to me, my desperation was so intense it felt like my bladder was on fire!

"Oh well," I thought, "it‘s now or never." Now, have you ever tried getting out of a sleeping bag with both hands jammed tightly between your legs? Feeling so desperate to pee that your entire body is tingling? Well take it from me, it‘s not easy, but somehow (and don‘t ask me how I managed it), it was ‘so far so good‘, then with every ounce of self control and strength I unzipped my tent and sure enough, the spider moved and I got out of that tent really quickly causing me to loose my concentration for a split second, but that was long enough to feel a warm wetness running down my legs - oh no!

I fought very, very hard to stem the flow and regain control again but it was proving very difficult to do, I guess changing position from laying down to standing outside in a much cooler temperature had a lot to do with it, but I was in full view of everyone else so I didn‘t want an accident. I was almost bent double. I made my way to the toilet block, there were a surprising amount of people milling around and I couldn‘t see anywhere I could squat down out of sight, it was a very open place so I HAD to get inside that toilet block! Every step I took was one step nearer, but it was also that little bit harder to hold, I was looking forward so much to my piss, I wanted to start it off now, so every few steps I almost lost control as very strong waves threatened me, each wave was that little bit stronger than the last.

I could feel myself leaking now and very badly too, my legs were pretty wet as were my hands and if I dared to look behind me on the path I know it would‘ve shown tell-tale signs, but I couldn‘t afford to look back, my only thought was getting to that toilet which somehow I did. No words can ever describe the utter relief I felt, I almost cried! In one split second I‘d pulled my hands away and my shorts down and peed a river, my shorts were very wet too, so I must have leaked a bit more than I‘d thought.

After I had peed, I finished off that orgasm that I‘d been on the brink of most of the night - aaaaaahhhhhhhh pure undiluted ecstasy, then I had to go back (with pretty wet shorts) and dismantle my tent and move to get rid of the spider.