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Thanks. Because this thread contains imagined letters from a variety of different women I write a large variety of different letter types. This includes the peeing party stuff sometimes but also some of the stuff you like too. Hopefully something for everybody insofar as naughty pissing is concerned.

And others are of course welcome to contribute imaginary letters of their own.

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Oh! For a moment reading Michelle's letter, I thought she had stumbled on Lindsay and Maeby (from "A Family Affair"). It is intriguing to have a report by a non-participant in the magazine, I am not even sure there was a single other such letter before, nicely done steve!

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  • 1 month later...
  • 2 weeks later...

This story was inspired by the tales of Vicky by Lesful/Vixen3

Dear Wet Carpet

My name is Mike and I am married to a gorgeous - and very naughty - lady called Rebecca. And she has a thing about peeing. I shall tell you about the first time it happened.

We had often joked about this sort of thing - peeing where we shouldn't - before, but it actually happened for the first time one evening when we were staying at a cheap hotel for the night. In those days - it was some years ago - credit cards were much less widespread and many hotels, particularly the cheap ones, accepted cash up front, which we had paid. We'd also given false names - not because we planned to do anything bad but simply as a precaution in case we did any accidental damage or some shit like that.

Anyway, that evening we went out to a local pub and had a few drinks. On the way back, by now quite tipsy, we stopped in a store to grab some cans. Rebecca becomes very giggly and quite naughty-minded when she'd had a few, as was the case now. We got back to our room and put on the TV to watch some film, but were not paying too much attention, instead laughing and joking as we drank more cans of lager.

Inevitably, before long, nature took it's course and I needed a pee. But our room had no en-suite toilet, and the communal ones were quite a way down the corridor, which was a hassle. Rebecca gigglingly pointed to the sink and suggested I just pee there. Well it sure was a lot less hassle, and a lot more convenient, and Rebecaa seemed amused by the idea. So I walked over to the sink and got my dick out. Rebecca came over and gazed, grinning, at my dick as I pulled it out of my jeans, then reached over and took it in her own hand. And she giggled as I peed in the sink, herself aiming it all over the porcelain. She then delighted in aiming me upwards so that I was pissing against the mirror above the sink.

She too needed to pee of course, but said that she was a bit too drunk to climb up onto the sink. But I had a brainwave. I pulled the bedside cabinet away from the wall and pointed to the carpet over which it had rested. "Just do it there", I suggested.

She chuckled with obvious delight at the suggestion but made a show of protesting, purely for the sake of decorum. "I can't do that!" And she laughed.

"Why not? This is just some cheap dive and we'll cover it back up with that cabinet afterwards anyway."

She grinned, needing no more persuading. She stepped over to the uncovered patch of carpet, stepped out of her knickers and kicked them away, and raised her skirt as she squatted there over the floor. And a moment later, a loud hissing and muffled splashing accompanied the glorious sight of her pissing right there on the carpet. She giggled uncontrollably at first as she peed. "I can't believe I'm doing this!" she chuckled. Then she just grinned with obvious pleasure as she gazed at her own piss splashing onto the carpet. That splashing grew louder as the carpet grew saturated, the puddle expanding into an unbelievably large wet patch. She really did need that piss.

Once she'd finished she got up and allowed her skirt to fall back into place - but didn't bother putting her knickers back on. She looked at the huge puddle slowly soaking into the carpet, then looked at me, and laughed. I moved to push the cabinet back into place to hide that pissed on patch of carpet, but she said, "Don't bother with that yet. I'm sure I'll need to pee again before we crash out." And she did - three times more before bed. That carpet was soaked. I just peed in the sink when I needed to, Rebecca making a point of watching my dick as I peed, sometimes holding it for me herself.

Just after having her last piss on that patch of carpet immediately before bed, and by now openly getting off on it - both of us now too drunk to be inhibited about that - I said that I needed a piss. But grinning, I ignored the sink this time and strode over to her pissing spot, standing in her piss with my bare feet and aiming my dick at the wall. Then we both drunkenly laughed as I stood there pissing against the hotel room wall. I moved the cabinet back over the wet carpet after that before we both went to bed.

In the middle of the night I was awoken by Rebecca climbing out of bed. "Where you off to?" I asked.

"I need a pee."

"You want me to move that cabinet again?"

"Er...nah, don't bother. I'll just do it here."

And I was able to make out her vague shape in the darkness squatting down in the middle of the room. Not wishing to miss this, I flicked on the bedside lamp and got to see her enjoying another long piss all over the carpet, this time right there in the middle of the room.

I didn't need to pee too badly but thought I probably would before morning. So I decided to get it out of the way now too. I climbed out of my side of the bed, took my dick in hand, and started pissing there on the carpet beside the bed. Rebecca still looked half asleep but clearly enjoyed watching me do this, as evidenced by the grin on her face.

In the morning we woke, a little hungover but otherwise fully sober. She looked at me with a smirk, "Did we really piss all over the place here last night?"

"Yes we did", I laughed.

She smiled at me, "Good fun though, in a dirtty bitch kind of way." She laughed.

But as we surveyed the room we realised how much of a mess we'd made. That huge piss puddle under the cabinet was actually so large that it was nowhere near fully covered, and quite a bit of it was still very obviously visible. And the puddle in the middle of the room and another on my side of the bed were unmistakeable. Rebecca bit her lip, then grinned, as she said, "I think we better get dressed and leave right now before anyone spots this." She chuckled.

I agreed but we both still needed our morning piss. And Rebecca smiled wickedly as she pointed out, "Well, since we're going to do a runner anyway, we may as well just piss anywhere we like before we go." And with that, she climbed up onto the bed and popped a squat right in the middle of it. Then she just grinned as she peed all over the bed, soaking the mattress for sure. I just stood in the middle of the room, pissing on the carpet.

We then got dressed, hastily left the premises and laughed uproariously as we drove away.

I definitely married the right woman! Lol

Mike

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Thanks steve. As always, a fantastic story. I'm happy that I joined WGP - I don't think that you've added this one to the corresponding thread on PS. Keep up the good work.

I will add it in time.....just havent gotten around to it yet.

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Dear Wet Carpet

My name is Ashleigh, and I am a 25 year old comprehensive school teacher. I am also bisexuel, with a fairly new girlfriend called Sarah, who is a 27 year old female doctor.

I have always taken a perverse delight in shocking people. I find that just so funny. I suppose I should also say that I am into pissing and things like that, though this and my desire to shock have never come together before - until last night that is.

You see, about a week ago, one morning when Sarah was in the shower at my place, having spent the night, I noticed her mobile phone left on the living room coffee table. Well, curiosity and just plain old nosiness got the better of me and I went looking through the pics I found on it. There were a few of random people she knew - and then I stumbled across a real pleasant surprise. Because there I was looking at a pic of some girl pissing on a rug. Recognised the pic from a porn pic site, but it was awesome to see that she was into this stuff. I found another pic of herself squatting and pissing on a tiled floor someplace, grinning at the camera.

Well an idea germinated in my head. I wanted to do her head right in, but in a way she'd enjoy. But I had to pick the right moment. And it came last night. We were in my living room, already on our second bottle of wine and feeling tipsy, when I needed to pee. I told her of this as I got up off the sofa. But instead of heading upstairs to the loo, I simply pointed to the floor in the middle of the room, saying, "You know what? I'm just gonna piss here."

And her eyes almost popped out of her head, mouth agape in astonished surprise, as I hoisted my skirt whilst squatting in the middle of the room, pulling my panties aside. And within moments, with a loud hissing - I love that sound - I was pissing right there on my own living room carpet! She looked stunned but was seriously turned on I could tell. She couldn't take her eyes off my piss splashing down. I looked at her, revelling in her dunbfounded yet excited expression, and laughed, "I needed that!"

I pissed loads as well, and that patch of carpet was soaked, the puddle massive.

She laughed, trying to make out that this was funny, but she didn't have me fooled for a second. I could tell that this had really turned her on. So I invited her to take a piss on my carpet too. She made a couple of feeble protests at the notion - "I can't do that!" etc - but she so clearly really wanted to.

She didn't resist my encouragement for long of course. Pretty soon she was squatting over another part of the floor, skirt pulled up over here bare ass, knickers discarded beside her. And she was grinning with obvious pleasure as she peed right there on my living room carpet too. It was awesomwly sexy seeing her do that.

Well, we carried on drinking our wine, and whenever we needed a piss after that, we just did it on the carpet. By the time we went to bed we'd ruined it, lol.

It is still soaking wet now, and I have yet to figure out what to do about it. Not sure if it will be possible to salvage it or whether it will need replacing, before the place starts smelling all pissy.

Was awesome fun though. It's just so fucking naughty pissing on your own living room carpet like that - and letting your girlfriend do it too!

Ashleigh

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Another excellent story Steve25805!

I really like the Pete & Kelly stories..... you cant beat the sexiness of a girl who just pisses anywhere she wants!

Maybe you should consider sporning a new thread dedicated to their story as I think this could run for a while? Maybe you could even consider that next time Kelly visits she stays for a while & watches some TV while sat on Petes' sofa..... of course she wouldn't think twice about spreading her legs & soaking the cushions :-)

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Dear Wet Carpet

Had an interesting experience with my long term boyfriend today. My name is Carly and I am 25, by the way. He's a bit older - 29. Well, he gets off on filming me in a sexual way, or filming us both having sex, and I find it quite erotic as well. He travels away on business quite a bit and likes to have these clips available because he says he loves to think of me when I'm not there. I find that fantastic. Better than him thinking of other women, that's for sure.

We have also I suppose kind of accidentally stumbled across the fact that we like pissing too, though have always been in denial about it. Only when we'd had a lot to drink might we do shit like piss all over each other in the bath, or piss in the corner in some pub, or in a beerglass. We'd laugh about it the next day but put it down to the fact that we must have been very drunk to have done such things - basically blaming the alcohol in order not to have to acknowledge to each other that we are a couple of pervs who enjoy peeing everywhere - including on each other!

But in the last couple of weeks we have finally begun to acknowledge to each other that doing such things turns us on. And yesterday, for the first time, we spent some time browsing pee porn together. Seeing people pissing all over floors, tables, furniture, and carpets - and each other - got us both so hot that we ended up having fantastic sex afterwards.

Well, this morning we were chatting about that whilst making a cup of tea in the kitchen. And it just so happened that I needed a pee right then. Equally fortuitously, he had his best camphone right there. So he actually made an outrageously naughty suggestion. He wanted me to piss right there on the kitchen floor whilst he filmed me. For a while, my sense of decorum fought a tug of war with my sexual desire to actually do it. I didn't know whether to react with horror or glee. You see, I never piss on floors and shit like that unless I am drunk or something, and even then never do it in my own kitchen. But now I was stone cold sober.

And yet, with a frisson of sexual pleasure rippling through me, I made the decision to actually do it. I stepped out of my knickers, which was his cue for grabbing his camphone. Then I hoisted my skirt whilst lowering myself into a squat in the middle of the room. His camphone was trained on me as I squatted there grinning.

And yet, I struggled to pee. On some level this was just too wrong - pissing on the kitchen floor. The very wrongness of the notion was really turning me on though too, but it took a little while to get started. Once the seal was broken though, the first trickle quickly increased into a flood, a loud hissing sound filling the room accompanied by the sound of it splashing down upon the tiles. My boyfriend grinned as he held his phone there filming my performance, an obvious hard on in his trousers. And boy, did I need that piss, lol. I peed for ages, totally flooding the floor with a massive yellow puddle.

I then stood up and stepped away from the mess and just left it there. My boyfriend had to clean it up after me, because I made it clear I wasn't going to do it, lol.

It was so much fun just deliberately pissing all over the kitchen floor like that. I'm going to have to do that again and just leave it there for him to deal with.

Carly.

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Dear Wet Carpet Magazine,

I just read Emma's letter about peeing in the warehouse and it reminded me of something similar that happened to me, that I think you might like to share:

I am a 28 year old woman and I work for an IT company and spend most of my time in an office but also spend a bit of time on customer sites. About 5 years ago, we were doing a rollout of new computers to a customer and had a stock of PCs and Printers which were delivered to us early, so we had to find storage for them. There was no storage at our office and the customer couldn't accommodate them, so we contacted a storage company. They said that we could either pay the going rate for a swanky storage unit in their town centre facility with all mod cons, or if we didn't need too regular access then we could use their out of town facility which was a converted laboratory that they had purchased and was mainly used for long term storage of documents for company archives.

Well we only reckoned on needing to go there twice - once to put the stuff in storage and once to get it back out again so we opted for the out of town arrangement that was much cheaper. All went well and the kit was taken there by some of our delivery drivers and stacked up in a room that was allocated to us. I ensured it was stacked nicely and locked the room when we left to return to the office. It didn't take too long and I thought we had got a result with the cheap price.

However the project fell well behind and the customer cancelled the order, so we were left with the kit. I had to go down there and do an inventory of what was in there, so I arranged with the owners to meet someone called James on site to gain access on a Wednesday afternoon. I normally wear short straight skirts and business attire, but I wore a polo shirt and work trousers for the day, knowing that there would be a fair amount of box shifting involved. The morning was spent in the office as usual and I consumed my normal amount of tea. I went to the loo at about 11:00 and then at 12:00 I went out to lunch with a friend at a pub, where I also drank a few soft drinks. I realised that time was moving on and I had arranged to meet the storage contact at 1:30, so I jumped in the car and headed out on the 30 minute drive to the storage location. As I drove, I realised that I really should have gone to the loo again before leaving the pub, but no matter, I'd go when I got there. When I arrived, James was waiting for me. Thank goodness - if he wasn't there, I swear I would have had to pop a squat in the bushes in the car park. James smiled a welcome and let me into the building. As we walked through the door, I asked him where the toilets were and his response threw me a bit: "Ah, bit of a problem there", he said, "nobody is based here and most people only visit for a very short time, so the water was turned off ages ago and everything is disconnected to avoid frost damage in the winters. The toilets are all locked up. We have to improvise I'm afraid".

"Improvise?" I asked, "in what way?"

"Well let's just say that there are plenty of bushes around here and you are welcome to make use of them".

I nearly died of embarrassment and said "It's OK, I'm not quite that desperate!" I had visions of him peering out of the door and spying on me as I hid in the bushes, slipped my trousers down and exposed my behind. I decided I’d really rather not be doing that. However, it did leave me with a dilemma, because I knew I wasn’t going to last that long and I had loads of stuff to sort out. I thought that maybe I’d nip outside in a bit when James wasn’t looking.

I took my clipboard and headed up the stairs to our room on the first floor. To add insult to injury I saw the toilets off the corridor and the mere sight of them caused a twinge in my bladder. I bobbed down, crossing my legs and managed to control myself. I pushed the door of the ladies and it was indeed locked. I tried the gents just in case, but that was also locked.

I carried on down the corridor and managed to unlock our room. I started recording the boxes of kit in my notebook, but I couldn’t really concentrate and every time I moved a box, I had another twinge. I knew I needed to do something and FAST. I left our room and from the corridor was a line of windows between the corridor and what must have been one of the old laboratories. The lab was equipped with bench units and sinks, with boxes of paperwork stacked up on the benches and on the floor. I saw the sinks and instantly I knew I had my solution – provided I could get in. I tried the door and thankfully it was unlocked. I went to the far end of the laboratory where one of the sinks was well hidden from the door and windows by the stacks of boxes. I pulled down my trousers and knickers in one quick movement, stood with my back to the unit and using my hands one each side, I popped up onto the bench with my bum over the sink. Immediately the floodgates opened and I found I was jet-washing the dusty sink with a powerful jet emanating from underneath me. The powerful hissing sound combined with the rattle of pee drumming on the stainless steel sink made quite a racket but I didn’t care – I had my relief. All of a sudden I heard another noise – a pattering like water falling on newspaper……. Very strange, I thought, but no worries, I was enjoying my relief and nothing was going to stop me now. As I finished up, I pulled a tissue from my jacket pocket and wiped away the stray pee from the insides of my legs, then hopped down from the side. As I did, I felt the carpet tiles on the floor squelch. Then it dawned on me; James had said the pipes had been disconnected. I opened the door to the cupboard under the sink and found that the inside of the cupboard was awash with pee that had flooded over some papers on the base of the cupboard and it was running off the front of the shelf onto the carpet tiles below. Someone had removed the U-Bend from the sink and my pee had just gone straight through onto the contents of the cupboard!

I didn’t know what to do, but I guessed that the room wasn’t visited that often, so I hoped it would dry before it was discovered. I posted my tissue through the handle hole in the end of a nearby archive box and I moved a couple of stacks of boxes to stand across the aisle in front of the sink, hiding the steaming pool of pee from anyone who casually looked into the room.

With that, I left the room and went back to my store to continue cataloguing the boxes of equipment. As I worked, I drank a litre bottle of water that I had with me as it was quite physical work moving all the boxes around. I was almost finished when I really needed to pee again. As I’d already made a bit of a mess next door, I decided that it couldn’t be too bad to add a bit more. So I headed back into the laboratory and followed the aisle down behind the boxes that I’d moved. This time, I decided that there was little point using the sink, so I simply lowered my trousers and squatted directly above the floor, where I released another bladder load to the waiting carpet tiles. The pee shot out in front of me and created a foamy puddle in the aisle, covering a considerable area before soaking slowly into the pile. I wiped again and posted the tissue into another archive box. Standing up, I adjusted my trousers and returned to the job in hand. When I finally left the building, I thanked James on the way out. He said “I don’t know how you manage – you said you needed the loo when you came in and I have been out for a pee twice whilst you’ve been here, but you still haven’t been out.” “Don’t worry, I replied, I’m quite good at improvising too!”

With that, I turned on my heel wiggling my bum provocatively as I walked across the car park back to my car, and set off home as it was too late to be worth going back to the office.

I hope you enjoyed that,

Nicola

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Thanks Steve. I generally base my stories on something that has at least a semblance of truth in there somewhere. The warehouse story was based on events which did happen, but unfortunately it wasn't a young lady called Nicola, it was something that I experienced myself but with changes and embelishments. The warehouse and storage facility did exist in a converted laboratory, we did store kit there and I did need to pee whilst there on a couple of different visits. The toilets really were closed with no water and I peed in a storage room behind some boxes at least 3 or 4 times over a period of several months, but the sink was a complete embelishment....... It came about because I kept wondering what a woman would do if she were caught short there. I wished I had a female colleague at the time with whom I could have engineered a situation, but unfortunately that wasn't to be. I did see the staff of the building pee in the bushes though. Anyway, glad you liked it.

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Thanks steve, I loved Carli's letter. I would also love to read about her golden shower adventures with her bf.

Alfresco, as you already know from PS I loves Nicola's letter as well. And thanks for the back story, too. I always enjoy knowing about the inspiration for a story.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Dear Wet Carpet Magazine,

I wanted to share with you something that happened to me after the storage facility incident. Once that project was closed down, I was moved onto a new project, which was all about installation of special security equipment for banks and share dealing organisations. My job involved going to the customer sites and talking to the customers about their requirements, then identifying somewhere for the equipment to be installed and considering things like electrical supply, air conditioning, secure storage etc. I travelled all over Southern England to do this, including spending quite a bit of time in London. I’d been doing the job for about a month and had got quite used to it, so was pretty confident in getting the information needed.

There was one time that I drove to a client, having stopped on the way for breakfast, which included orange juice and coffee. It was about a two hour drive and by the time I arrived at 9:45 for a 10:00 appointment, I really needed to make use of a toilet. I parked in the building’s car-park and went in to reception where I signed in and asked for my contact, Mr Williamson. The receptionist, a young lady in smart business attire asked me to wait in reception until 10am because Mr Williamson was in another meeting. She offered me coffee, which I foolishly accepted and I bounced discretely as I realised my need was increasing. I asked her if I could quickly use the ladies while I was waiting. “I’m afraid not Miss Jarvis, the toilets are within the secure area and you can’t go through until Mr Williamson has signed you in. I am sure you understand”. I am sure I caught a glimmer of a sly smile as she was enjoying my predicament, but I let it pass.

I sat down on the sofa opposite and couldn’t help jiggle about a bit, then horror of horrors, I felt an uncontrollable spurt in my silky knickers. I managed to contain it, but I jumped up and asked the receptionist again if I could possibly use the toilet, saying that if she didn’t then she might have to deal with a wet carpet in reception. She smirked at me and said “I’m really sorry, but I can’t possibly leave my desk to escort you and I can’t let you go in on your own”. “OK”, I replied, “I’ll manage. Seeing as I’ve got ten minutes, I’m just going to pop out to my car to get my tape measure”.

I obviously already had my tape measure in my bag – I always come prepared, but I needed an excuse to move around and take my mind off my bladder. I walked back to the car and opened the boot. Another quick squirt entered my knickers as I bent over to look in the boot for my imaginary tape measure. I jumped up in shock and nearly hit my head on the boot lid. My knickers now felt very damp and I knew I couldn’t last much longer. A quick look around told me that there was nobody nearby, so I quickly reached up under my skirt and pulled my knickers down, stepping out of them. They were quite wet, so I stuffed them in the boot, then I squatted down behind the car grassy area at the edge of the car park, hitched up my skirt and released the pent up pee onto the grass. It was ecstasy as the torrent erupted from me and sprayed a good couple of feet in front of me. I flung my head back in relief and closed my eyes as my stream thundered onto the grass. Twenty seconds later the stream waned and fell to just a dribble below me. I stood up and straightened my skirt, then leaving my knickers in the boot, I closed the lid and headed back inside.

The secretary had a real smirk on her face and said “Better now?” I looked at her quizzically and she smiled and turned to her right and nodded in the direction of a monitor on the desk. I am sure I went white as a sheet followed by bright red, as I realised that she was looking at a CCTV screen, which was showing a clear view of the car park and more specifically it was pointing right at the area behind my car! I knew instantly that she had watched the whole show, but there was nothing that I could do about it. I didn’t know what to say, so I brazened it out and calmly said “Yes, thank you. As you wouldn’t let me use the facilities, I didn’t have a lot of choice!” I went back to sitting on the sofa, carefully keeping my legs together to hide the fact that I was no longer wearing any knickers.

Shortly after, Mr Williamson came down for me and he looked at me to welcome me to the company. As I stood to greet him, my legs drifted apart slightly and I couldn’t miss the fact that his gaze dropped from my face momentarily. I knew he’d seen something that wasn’t intended, but his smile told me he had no objection. The receptionist told Mr Williamson that he had a meeting room booked, but he steered me instead to an informal breakout area with low sofas, where he had me sit down and he brought me a cup of coffee before taking up a position directly opposite. During the meeting, his eyes kept dropping from my face to my legs and I quickly realised his game and decided to play along a little, making sure to cross and uncross my legs throughout the discussions. Each time I did so, Mr Williamson paused his conversation and gave an expression of pleasant surprise. We then went on a tour of the building, looking at the potential locations for the equipment. In the comms room, I made sure to bend down to look at the cabling routes and I could feel his eyes resting on my behind as my skirt rode up in response to my bending.

We returned to the seated area to conclude our discussions and another cup of coffee appeared. As I had sat down, the back of my skirt rode up, so I felt the soft dark brown fabric tickling my bottom. I realised that the coffee was making its way through me and I accidentally let a small spurt out jumped in surprise. “What’s the matter?” asked Mr Davidson. I let my eyes fall to the floor in embarrassment and mumbled quickly “I am really sorry, I’ve had a little too much coffee and was a bit embarrassed to ask for the ladies, and it seems that I’ve leaked ever so slightly on your sofa! – Please can you direct me to the ladies?” I looked up and saw that Mr Williamson’s trousers were developing a bit of a bulge. “Are you sure you can make it?” he asked, “they are on the next floor up and if you are that desperate, you might struggle.” “I don’t know”, I replied, “I am pretty desperate, but it is so unprofessional, I’m really sorry”.

“Look”, he said in a matter of fact tone, “If you are really that bad, you are going to end up leaving trails on the way and embarrass yourself in front of lots of people. I shouldn’t say this, but it would probably be better for you to just go where you are. Nobody would notice and we can cover it up as a spilled drink”. I was really embarrassed, but I could see he was turned on by it, so knew he wasn’t going to grass me up, and I didn’t understand why, but it was turning me on slightly to think of the predicament. I reacted to his suggestion with a shocked expression and I didn’t really know what to do. He assured me that it was OK. His bulging pants confirmed that it was indeed OK, so I figured “what the heck” and opened my legs slightly and relaxed. Nothing happened, then after about 10 seconds, I found myself gently peeing directly into the cushion of the sofa. Mr Williamson’s gaze was transfixed on the area between my legs as he beheld the thin stream wetting the material then building into a puddle. I stopped the flow briefly, allowing the puddle to soak into the cushion. Mr Williamson looked slightly disappointed, but I restarted flow and continued to pee with a bit more force now as the now pre-wet cushion thirstily consumed my pee. As I finished, I continued to sit there and the pee soaked away into the cushion. Mr Williamson smiled and asked if I was OK. I told him that I was fine and apologised profusely for messing up his cushion. He said that I shouldn’t worry about it and told me that he hoped that I would be coming along for the installation of the system. I had thought that after my display, he would have cancelled the order and never wanted to see anyone from my company again, but he actually doubled the order!

It was from that point, I realised that not only could peeing and exhibitionism instil sexy feelings in myself, but it could also be used to my advantage. The difficulty would be in knowing who would appreciate it, as I’m sure many would be repulsed and I couldn’t afford that in my working life.

As I stood to leave, a few stray drops of pee ran down my legs, glistening in the bright fluorescent lights. I turned to look at my seat and saw that due to the dark colour of the fabric, actually the stain wasn’t that obvious –even though it was quite a size. Mr Williamson poured a bit of coffee on top of it and said that he would put a note there for the cleaners to deal with it that evening.

Mr Williamson walked me back to reception and with a sweet smile at the receptionist, I headed for my car. I pulled out onto the road and grabbed a water bottle, taking a large swig. I couldn’t help but put my hand under my skirt to play with my clit as I drove along re-living the day’s events. As I neared home a couple of hours later, I felt my bladder filling again. I probably could have made it home, but instead I felt myself thinking about where else I could pee. This was not in my normal behaviour – I would normally have done anything to make it home, but something had changed today. I spotted a layby up ahead, where there was a bus shelter. I stopped the car and I sat on the wooden slatted seat of the bus shelter and allowed my pee to pour over the wood and between the slats, splattering noisily to the concrete below. I sighed with satisfaction for the third time that day and I just knew that my future site visits might become more enjoyable………

Nicola xxx.

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