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Dear Wet Carpet Magazine,

It seems that a few of you liked hearing about my visit to Mr Williamson, so I figured you might like to hear a bit more. After the embarrassment of being caught short at Mr Williamson’s office, I knew that I didn’t want to get caught out again by getting somewhere and feeling that I had to ask for a toilet as soon as I arrived. I decided that I would always try and find somewhere to pee before going in to a customer’s office, which worked pretty well for me – usually finding a services or public toilet so that I could enter the client’s office relaxed and ready to deal with the job.

Then one day, I had my morning coffee and orange juice before I left home, and I drank water on the way, but two hours later, I was about 20 miles from the destination and had left the motorway, now driving on a main road to the small town where he was based. My bladder was making its presence known and I smiled to myself thinking that timing was good because I could find a loo and pee before getting to the office. I thought I’d pop into a garage or McDonalds or something, but this was a rural location and there wasn’t much around. Then I saw the sign “Services 25 miles”. Great! My destination was before that and so I’d need to find another option. As if in agreement, my bladder gave a twinge and I had to clamp my legs to avoid having a wet patch on my skirt and the car seat. I realised I didn’t have that much time to spend searching for a toilet and in any case, I didn’t have much spare time in my schedule before getting to the office. Then I saw a lay-by up ahead. Not just a little lay-by adjoined to the carriageway, but one where a small road left the main road and rejoined a little further along. In a split second, I had made my decision. It would have to do. I pulled off the main road and rolled to a stop. Thankfully, there were no other cars parked there. I weighed up my options – I could go down the bank to the side of the road and hide behind a bush, but my high heeled shoes would not survive well on the muddy bank and I’d probably ladder my stockings on the vegetation. I could simply swing my legs out of the car door and pee there, perching on the side of my seat, but that was probably visible from the road. Then I saw a little building off to the side, which had a concrete path going down the side. That would serve to provide a bit of screening from the road without having to go on a muddy trek. I headed down the side of the building I saw that it was a highways store building. The path went to a door, which was ajar and I peeked inside to see an assortment of traffic cones, roadworks signs and some shovels. I knew it was naughty to pee inside, but then again, it shouldn’t have been unlocked and it was completely out of view, so surely it was a better option than exposing myself in public? My mind made up, I stepped over the threshold and as my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I hitched up my skirt, slid my knickers down over my knees. I didn’t want to touch anything for fear of getting dust and dirt on my clothes, so I adopted a high squat, holding my skirt around my waist. I felt butterflies in my stomach as it felt so wrong to be even considering peeing inside, but the result was inevitable and very shortly a strong jet erupted backwards from me. The power was more than I was expecting and was blasting onto a nearby stack of traffic cones, causing a bit to splash back onto my stockings. I twisted round slightly so the stream fell between the cones and the signs, washing away the dust on the floor and making a puddle that started running towards the door. As the pee started to fall over the step to the outside, my stream was dwindling and with a few final spurts, I was done. I felt so naughty, but the feeling of relief was ecstatic. My clit was throbbing with excitement and as I wiped myself with a tissue, I couldn’t help give myself a little extra rub down there. I tossed the tissue into the pile of signs, slipped my knickers back up and smoothed down my skirt. I nervously peered round the door to check the coast was clear and stepped over the puddle that was now accumulating outside the door. 10 minutes later, I arrived at the client feeling flushed and still a bit hot and bothered, but at least I didn’t need to ask to use their toilet!

On arrival, the client gave me a cup of tea and we talked about his requirements, no dramas or excitement. When I left, I was starting to need the toilet again, but I wasn’t desperate, so I didn’t ask and instead left to go to the car. It was getting on for lunch time and I had left home early, so I was pretty hungry. I stopped at another lay-by where there was a burger van. There were 2 vans parked there and a few men, sitting at some garden furniture type tables in front of the van. I ordered a bacon and egg baguette and a large tea. As I was standing facing the burger van, I heard a low level conversation at the table to my left and I could sense the eyes of the men sat there eyeing me up. They were taking in my lengthy legs in stockings and my pert bottom in my short skirt. As a subconscious reaction, I stood up straighter and taller, causing my D cup breasts to press at my blouse. My baguette was now ready, so I took it from the girl behind the counter and walked tall back to my car, passing the table of men. Their eyes followed me and one of them even wolf-whistled after me. I kept looking forward, but I had a smile on my face, enjoying their crude appreciation.

I sat in my car, which was facing in the direction of the burger van and the table, and ate the baguette and drank the tea. By now, I really needed a pee, but there were obviously no toilets here. Again, I had a bit of a dilemma. I could hit the road and then stop again at a suitable toilet, or I could try and find a way of peeing here. I was feeling a bit horny, remembering my earlier pee amongst the traffic cones and probably edged on a bit by the attentions of the men at the table. Never having been one to be an exhibitionist, I was shy about peeing whilst they were around. If I headed into the bushes, they would know exactly what I was up to and I’d mess up my heels in the mud. A naughty streak in me thought that maybe they might actually like the idea of me dropping my knickers in the bushes and it might give them something else to appreciate, they wouldn’t be able to see me in the act, so I would preserve my modesty, but they would be able to imagine it. I didn’t know them, would never see them again, so what the heck? I really didn’t want to ruin my heels though. Finally, the desperation was getting the better of me, and I decided that I could solve three problems in one, relieving my throbbing desperation, saving my heels and adding a naughtiness which the van drivers might appreciate into the bargain. I got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side, where I opened both doors, then I sat on the side of the passenger seat, hitching up my skirt and easing my knickers down to my knees. I slid forward so that I was barely supported by the seat and I released the dam. The pressure moved down to the end of my urethra and the ensuing jet forced its way out and splashed noisily onto the pavement beside the car. I glanced to my right and through the window of the open door, I could see one of the men had clocked what I was doing. He sat there with mouth open and nudged the next bloke and pointed in my direction. Soon, all four of them were stock still, gawping and transfixed as they could see my glistening stream falling below the door and forming a lake on the pavement. I knew they couldn’t see my nakedness because I was careful to keep my body above the bottom of the door, but they could certainly see what I was doing and they seemed to be enjoying it!

As my stream dwindled, the expanding lake started to run over the kerb stone and into the gutter, where it headed slowly towards the nearest drain. I carefully wiped with a tissue. I felt one more pang of naughtiness and instead of carefully adjusting my clothes where I was, I stood up and faced towards the back of the car, lifting my skirt round my waist while I slowly pulled my knickers back up and wiggled into them. Stood on the pavement, my bottom would have been just higher than the level of the window and I knew that the men would be getting a real eyeful of my sexy rear. I smoothed my skirt back down then walked back around the car and got in the driver’s seat, noting that the men were talking in a very animated fashion. As I drove away, I flashed them a smile and threw my used tissue out of the passenger window towards them. It landed right on the table. I don’t know what they did in response to that as I was passed them and pulling out onto the road. I don’t know what had come over me, but I was certainly starting to get a bit of an exhibitionist streak.

After that day, I regularly found myself using lay-bys and car parks to relieve myself rather than bothering to look for toilets. I found that I loved the feeling of peeing in the open air and although I generally tried to be discrete about it, I loved the idea that there were often other people around with the chance of being caught. I started to leave my knickers at home as a matter of course, which meant that peeing was a very simple matter of squatting with my skirt out of the way and releasing my golden stream onto the ground. In some cases, if there were not too many people around, I would just swing my legs out of the driver’s seat, pee, swing back in and be on my way in less than a minute – far more convenient than hunting down a place with a toilet, parking, walking inside, finding the toilet, using it, and returning to the car. That all seems like a major and unnecessary hassle now.

Nicola xxx

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Dear Wet Carpet,

I almost got myself in a serious bind this week. I work in a busy office building where people are always coming and going. Since I am a supervisor, I have a large and somewhat more secluded cubicle. But still, people are dropping by my desk often, dropping stacks of papers or asking questions or delivering a message from somebody on the phone.

When we get really busy, I rarely have time to leave my desk. As the hours tick by my bladder fills up, especially after two cups of coffee and some water. The bathroom is a little ways from my office and sometimes I barely make it, sprinting down the hallway, feeling drips of warm pee dampening my panties. It's not a bad feeling, really, and a few times I have rubbed myself off in the bathroom. But I've never wanted an accident at work.

A few days ago, we were really swamped, answering calls, filing paperwork, monitoring the progress of some of our partners. Once again, I spent hours without visiting the restroom until my bladder had finally filled near to the point of bursting. I started to stand up when my office phone rang. I picked it up and it was a supervisor at one of our partner firms, so I didn't dare ask him to call back. So I sat back down in my chair and did my best to hold it until I finished the call.

Fifteen minutes went by. Then thirty. Then an hour. In this time I foolishly took a few drinks of my water. I finally started to feel like I wouldn't be able to last much longer, but the supervisor was still asking questions and I was afraid to ask him to hold on or call back, nor did I want to direct his call to any of my colleagues and let them take the credit for any ideas that would strengthen our company's partnership with this one.

So I did what I had to do. I stayed in my seat. After I knew for sure that there was no chance of holding it any longer, I scooted my seat as close to my desk as I could get it. Then I sat up in my office chair and slid the back of my skirt out of the way. Looking around to make sure no one was too close to notice what I was doing, I just let go and peed into my office chair.

I could feel my bottom get warm as the pee soaked into my panties and absorbed into the chair cushion. Knowing there was no turning back now and realizing that since it was almost 5:00, much of the office had cleared out and no one was around to see, I just sat back in my seat and spread my legs, relaxing and releasing the rest of my pee into my panties and chair.

I had to go really badly and eventually the heavy flow was too much for my chair as a few drops fell silently to the carpet. I didn't care, though, as I was too busy concentrating on trying to speak calmly while also feeling the ecstatic relief of emptying my full bladder right there in my office.

When the call finally finished, I stood up to survey the damage. The cushion on my chair is black, so the wet spot was hardly noticeable unless someone were looking for it. My skirt was completely dry, but my panties were so drenched they were transparent. I pulled my skirt down as far as it would go and walked to the bathroom. This was more for show than anything, in case any of my remaining coworkers wondered why I hadn't been to the restroom in a while.

Something must have happened to my bladder because later, as I was leaving work and riding the elevator down, I felt a strong urge to pee. It hit like a wave and I had to grab myself to stop from peeing right then. I realized, though, that I was alone in the elevator and my panties were already soaked. So I just stood there in the elevator and let the rest of my pee go down my legs, enjoying the warm flow as it filled my crotch and trickled down my inner thighs and dripped to the floor at my feet.

Once in my car, I had to sit back in my seat and touch myself through my soaked panties. Less than a minute later I was screaming as I climaxed. I guess my orgasm made me have to pee again, so I let it happen and once again soaked my panties.

If this kind of thing happens more often, I just might learn to love my job.

Carolyn

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Dear Wet Carpet,

I have been a lurker on your site for a few weeks now. One of my friends recommended your site after I had an accident while out shopping with her and admitted to her that it actually felt nice.

I'm not really a wetter, like a lot of the other women who post on here. But sometimes when I have to pee I hold it as long as I can, sometimes almost too long, and then when I go I go a lot and the strong squirt of my pee excites me.

A little while ago I read a post from a woman who peed all over her carpet all through her house because she was replacing it and because she was home alone. I also fantasize about being a nudist, so after reading that, I felt my face get hot as I thought about how exciting it would be to sit around the house naked, holding my pee until I couldn't hold it anymore, and then spraying pee wherever I was in my house.

I am a stay-at-home mom and after seeing my kids off to school the other day and after my husband kissed me goodbye and left for work, I started to see the possibilities of being able to do this.

Once I was sure the house was empty and would be for about 8 hours, I first slipped off my slacks and panties. This naughty freedom sent tingles through me as I just stood there half naked in our living room. I pulled by sweater over my head and then unfastened my bra. My nipples were getting hard as I stared down at my clothes in a pile on the floor.

I didn't have to pee yet, so I walked naked to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. While I waited for it to brew, I filled a glass with water and drank it down. Then I filled it again. And again. Finally, the single-cup brewer stopped so I took my cup of coffee back into the living room and turned on the morning news.

After sitting for a while, sipping my coffee, I finally started to feel the urge to pee. I squirmed a little bit in the recliner, loving the feel of the soft cushion against my bare bottom. The urge grew and for a moment I debated rushing to the bathroom. If I peed on the floor or the couch or anywhere, I would need to clean it up. And what if I couldn't cover up the smell? How would I respond to my husband's or my children's questions if they smelled it?

I stood up and started to walk to the bathroom, but as I did the pressure in my bladder built and I felt a tiny dribble between my legs.

I'm not even going to make it to the bathroom, I thought. I might as well just pee here.

So I stood up right next to my husband's recliner and waited. Another surge of pressure and I squeezed my legs together, again feeling a spurt as it warmed my crotch. The third wave of pressure was all I could take and I sighed as I peed full-force down my legs. It hissed loudly as I felt the strong spray against my clit. My legs felt weak and I knelt down, bending my knees and sitting back on my feet, still spraying a strong stream of pee onto the carpet.

As if acting on instinct, I started to rub myself, splashing pee all over my fingers, legs, and the floor. Oh, my, this was amazing. It was like I couldn't stop peeing until I finally started panting and gasping as I climaxed, screaming my pleasures to the empty house.

I put a towel down in the wet spot and later scrubbed it with some carpet cleaner and a dab of peroxide. I went through another cup of coffee and a glass of water, not ready to end my fun yet.

When the urge to pee hit again, I was sitting naked at the computer, sending some emails and socializing with friends on facebook. If only any of them knew that I was sitting there, completely nude. I had folded another towel under my bottom, this one larger and thicker. I was certain it could absorb my pee if I found that I had to go while sitting there.

Sure enough, the urge grew and I pressed my legs together, still trying to hold it in as long as I could. I sat there for a little while, reading status messages, and finally felt a squirt that warmed my crotch. I sat back in the chair, spread my legs, and just let go.

A strong dribble of pee hissed out of me and trickled into the towel, creating a growing wet spot. The towel was absorbing the pee, but as I let go full-force, my stream extended past the edge of the chair and to the floor. I didn't care, though, as I just sighed and let my pee flow freely into the towel and onto the floor. This felt so liberating and naughty that I again reached down and touched myself and was screaming within thirty seconds of rubbing myself.

The rest of my morning was kind of uneventful. I drank some more water to fill my bladder again. Later, I took an afternoon in the guest room, crawling under the covers naked, loving the feeling of the Egyptian cotton sheets against my bare body. I woke up with a strong urge to pee. Remembering that no one had been in this room in months, I pressed the covers against my bare vagina and sprayed a hard stream of pee into them. This time, I did not even have to touch myself as the warm pressure of my pee stream soaking into the sheets and splashing back at my vagina was enough to send me over the edge.

After I was done, I reluctantly got up. I washed the towels, sheets and covers, flipped the mattress, and double-checked the carpet for any pee smells. None that I could detect. When my husband and children got home, nothing was said.

I haven't repeated this day yet, but tomorrow the house will be empty again and after writing this I think I just might enjoy myself again.

Thanks for posting these stories.

Katherine

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Dear Wet Carpet,

I was spending time with some friends a few weeks ago. There were six of us at my friend Maureen's house, having some drinks and talking about our lives before jobs, kids, and husbands.

Then Maureen hit us with a loaded question.

"What is the naughtiest thing you have ever done?" I blushed right away because I already didn't want to answer the question.

Rhoda shared a story about having sex on a tour bus. Carol followed with stealing a purse from the mall. When the question got to me, I said, "Pass," and everyone groaned. I still refused.

"Well, we'll come back to you," Maureen said. She confessed to giving her husband a hand job while waiting in traffic. Dawn said she had once been dared to place a box of condoms in the toy section at Walmart. We all glared at her, probably imagining our own kids finding them and asking questions. Samantha told us she once masturbated at work and since it had been a while since she last orgasmed, she was loud enough that the girl in the office next to her heard it. Again, we winced. sharing her embarrassment.

Now it was back to me. Even after hearing all of those embarrassing stories, I wasn't sure if I wanted to share mine. These girls had been my friends for years, but none of them knew this story because it had never come up.

"Come on, Heather," the pleaded. "Please? We all shared ours."

Finally, I gave in.

"I peed naked on our living room carpet." They all gasped and I felt the urge to run until I saw that they were all smiling. Not the deprecating kind of smile, but a curious smile.

"Wow," Maureen said. "What happened? I mean... was it an accident?"

"Well, sort of," I said. "My husband and I had been fooling around on the couch, so I was naked. He went to use the bathroom and after a few minutes I really had to go. I told him to hurry, but he was doing a number 2, so I held on until I couldn't hold it anymore. I didn't want him to know what I did, so I went to a spot in our living room that no one hardly sees and I stood there and peed."

By now the alcohol was really taking its effect on all of us. The girls all assaulted me with bizarre questions. How did it feel? Relieving, I said. What was it like? Kind of nice, I told them. Was I embarrassed? Before, yes, during, no, because by then it was too late.

"I have an idea." Maureen said. "Let's have a holding contest to see who can hold their pee the longest." I blushed again, realizing that my story had inspired my friend's new idea. Amazingly, all of the girls were okay with the idea. "Only one catch," Maureen said. I was concerned about what she might say next. "We have to do it naked." Now everyone gasped and looked at her, wide-eyed.

But, perhaps surprising ourselves, or perhaps to drunk to protest, we all slowly removed our clothing until we were all sitting naked in Maureen's basement party room, looking nervously at each other. The nudity wasn't the issue. We all worked out together and showered at the gym together, so seeing each other naked was nothing new.

It was the anticipation of what was going to happen when one of us needed to pee.

Maureen reached into her mini-fridge, pulled out some more beers, and passed them around.

"Guzzle them," she demanded. We all obeyed and downed our bottles.

Just a few minutes later, Samantha was holding herself and rocking gently. She had never really been able to hold her pee for very long. We all knew her as the girl who had to go to the bathroom every time we stopped somewhere. She was already wincing and we all watched her. Carol also seemed to be squirming as she peered at the floor a few times. I was starting to feel the beer pass to my bladder, but I could hold off for a while.

"Okay, I can't do this," Samantha said as she hopped up from the couch. We all noticed a tiny wet spot on the couch cushion and laughed as she darted to the basement bathroom. Not long after she left, Carol squirmed again.

"Um, Maureen," she said.

"Yeah?"

"What if I didn't make it to the bathroom?"

I stared wide-eyed at Carol and Rhoda and Dawn mimicked my expression. Then, we looked back at Maureen.

"Well, I guess that would be okay."

"Good, because I really have to pee." Carol stood up and right in front of all of us she spread her legs. We watched amazed as a clear stream fell from her hairy vagina and splashed to the carpet at her feet. She sighed, clearly either enjoying herself or feeling relieved. It was a quick pee, but it splashed hard and loud all over the floor and sprayed droplets all over her bare legs.

"Wow," Rhoda said as she watched. By now, Samantha was out of the bathroom, but no one else tried to get up or even made known if they had to pee or not. Samantha just stared at the puddle at Carol's feel and we all laughed. After about five minutes, though, Maureen was visibly squirming and Rhoda had gone red in the face. Dawn and I were sitting calmly, watching. Maureen was closing her eyes and obviously holding herself, breathing as if trying to meditate her desperation away. It seemed to be no use, though, as she jumped up out of her seat.

"I can do it, ohh. I'm just gonna stand here and pee." Maureen sighed and a glimmer of pee trickled out of her crotch. Instead of spreading her legs, though, she kept them together, so the warm stream squirted forward and splashed a little against her labia and her inner thighs and splattered to the carpet. "Oohh, that's so good." She closed her eyes again and the stream grew as her pee sprayed out of her and warmed her calves and feet. She sighed again as the warm flow slowed to a quiet trickle down her legs.

Dawn and I looked at each other. It was down to us. I knew I was going to win. See, what none of these girls remember is that I have always been the one who could hold her bladder. I could have waited for my husband to get out of the bathroom that day, but I didn't want to. It was so much more naughty to pee on the carpet. But that naughtiness was nothing compared to this night.

Dawn was looking a little timid as she sat up in her chair.

"You're going to lose, Dawn," I said.

She bit her lip. "I know."

"You might as well just go," I said, pretending to taunt her but really just wanting to see her pee.

"Okay," she said. Rather than stand up, Dawn scooted forward in her chair and then sat on the floor in front of it. She giggled. "The carpet tickles my vagina." We all watched as she just spread her legs out in front of her, leaned her head back onto the chair, and sighed. Right away a thick arc of pee squirted from Dawn's shaved pussy and soaked the carpet at her crotch. A puddle formed between her legs and we all watched her warm pee trickle into it as she moaned with obvious pleasure and relief. Her gasps grew as her flow increased, and just a few seconds later Dawn's moans grew louder as she had a small but apparently satisfying orgasm.

Truthfully not able to hold it anymore, I stood up and without saying anything just let go and peed a warm stream of pee down my legs. I licked my lips as the warm flow caressed my thighs and squirted against my clitoris. I peed long and hard and just as I thought I might also climax, my flow stopped and I stood looking down at the huge puddle at my feet.

"Well," Maureen said. "That was some party." We all agreed as we slipped our clothes back on. Maureen assured us that she would clean up the mess. She also offered for us to come over again some time, and of course we all agreed.

I look forward to Maureen's next party. Maybe I can tell her about this site and she could invite some of you.

Heather

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Dear Wet Carpet,

My best friend may have started me on a bad habit. This letter may be long, so I apologize.

A few years ago, my husband of 23 years left me and moved in with his long-time girlfriend. I had a feeling he was cheating on me for a little while but didn't say anything because I was hoping it wasn't true. But, sure enough, I came home from work to find most of his stuff gone and a note admitting to everything.

Our divorce was quick and mostly painless. I got the house and my share of what was left in the bank.

The night I found the note, I called my friend and we both sobbed and griped together. She had also been divorced, but an ugly and bitter one. She always said the only good part about it was that they didn't have any kids or else the battle for custody would have been a really nasty ordeal.

"You're coming over to stay with me," she said.

"No, no, I can't," I said.

"Then I'm coming over there."

She arrived about 30 minutes later with a bag of clothes, a tub of ice cream, and two large bags filled with an assortment of alcohol. She hugged me tightly and said, "I'm so sorry." I shrugged. What could I do, really? At least I knew the truth now. "Good news is, I brought some stuff to help drown your sorrows." She pulled out a six pack of beer and quickly popped the top off of two of them, then handed me one. Being country girls, we had always been more beer and whisky drinkers than wine sippers.

So we relaxed in my living room, myself in the love seat and my friend on the couch. She had me laughing after just a few minutes of talking. The beer was taking effect and I could feel a little buzz. We ate big spoonfuls of ice cream, too, as we drank. Once the beers were gone, my friend dropped two shot glasses on the table and poured some Southern Comfort, an appropriately named drink for a night like this.

As the evening wore on, we were both very tipsy, cackling at every stupid joke, acting like college girls again. I wasn't too drunk to notice that I had to pee, though, but as I tried to get up, I flopped back down into the love seat. My friend laughed at me and I would have laughed, too, but I was worried I would lose it and pee all over the love seat.

"What were you trying to do?" she asked.

"I have to pee," I said. "I was trying to get up, but I'm so drunk and I don't want to move because this love seat is comfortable."

"You whole living room is comfortable," my friend said. I pointed to a recliner in the corner and frowned.

"Not that chair. That fucking thing..." I paused. It was my husband's chair. "I hate it. Hate it, hate it, hate it." I felt like crying again, but I turned my eyes away and looked at my friend.

"You know what you should do?" she said.

"What?"

"You should pee on that chair." My eyes widened. "I'm serious. You said you're too drunk to make it to the bathroom. The chair is just right there. He's not coming back for it, and if he does it would be the best revenge."

"I can't just pee on the chair. That's gross." As I said that, though, I did feel butterflies in my stomach, as if the idea excited me.

"Come on. I dare you to pee in the chair." I shook my head, making myself a little dizzy. "Do it, do it, do it," she chanted.

I finally shrugged, stood up (with difficulty) and staggered to the chair.

"So what do I do? Just sit in it and pee?"

"Sounds awesome to me."

"But I don't want to ruin these jeans."

"So take them off. Just pull your jeans and panties down and sit in it like it's a toilet."

"This is so bad," I said. I felt that twinge in my stomach again and as I pulled my jeans and panties down I was surprised to see that I was already a little wet in the crotch, and not from pee. I could even feel my nipples harden as I sat my naked butt on the soft cushion of the recliner. "I can't believe I'm just gonna pee in this chair." After saying this, it was like my body worked on its own. I leaned back in the chair, spread my legs, and let go.

I gasped as the first drops of my pee trickled out and warmed my butt as the cushion absorbed my flow. "Oh, that's amazing," I said. The trickle grew to a squirt and you could hear it dribbling into the chair. My friend giggled at this, but otherwise she just watched silently. I felt it spray against my legs and inner thighs. "Mmm. It feels so good." I looked down and a dark, glistening puddle was forming at my crotch. I closed my eyes, pushed harder and now my warm spray was tickling my clitoris. Without touching myself or anything, I started panting as for the first time in my life I orgasmed while peeing.

When I opened my eyes I saw my friend squatting over the carpet in front of my couch, her jeans and panties at her feet, and a warm flow of pee trickling out of her and making a puddle on the floor. "I'm so sorry," she said, "but watching you made me have to go." The carpet in the living room is a dark brown, so I truthfully wasn't worried about stains.

"It's okay," I said. "I think... you may have started something." We both laughed as we pulled our panties and jeans back on.

For the rest of the night, if we needed to pee, we either soaked the recliner or squatted over the dark carpet and made puddles. We both fell asleep in the living room, my friend on the floor and me on the couch. I woke up in the middle of the night feeling woozy. I also had to pee again. I tried to sit up, but my head started pounding so I laid back down on my side, facing the back of the couch. I still really had to pee and I didn't want to ruin my couch. I tugged my jeans and panties off and scooted my butt as far as I comfortably could over the edge of the couch. Sighing, I let go and a warm trickle of pee caressed my bottom and the back of my right leg as it dripped to the floor. I just relaxed and let it flow. I thought I felt some of it soak into the edge of the couch cushion, but I didn't care. My friend had introduced me to something incredibly arousing and I was going to enjoy it.

Since that night, I have peed in the recliner, squatted in several places over my living room carpet, let my warm pee flow down my legs while washing dishes, and right now I am laying naked in bed typing on my laptop and thinking of christening my bedroom carpet, which is the same color as my living room carpet. I'll probably just hang my legs over the bed and spray my pee all over the floor.

Until later.

Christine

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Dear Wet Carpet,

I recently moved out of my house because of some conflict with an ex boyfriend. One of my close friends is letting me stay with her because she has a huge three-story historic mansion with eight bedrooms and a bathroom on each floor.

When I first arrived, she toured me through the house and took me to my room, far on the left wing where I could have some privacy. I quickly got lost as we walked down a corridor, turned down a hall, and entered so many doors I lost count. The good news is that the room was amazing, with a king size bed, TV, computer, and even my own little kitchen and dining area with a mini-fridge already stocked with some food and drinks. The bathroom, however, was on the other end of the wing closer to the center of the house. As she directed me to my room the first night, I tried to remember how to get back to the bathroom as I was sure I would need to go later. She left before I could ask, though, and shut the door behind her.

I relaxed on the bed, watched some shows on the 40-inch HD TV hanging on the wall, and even grabbed a few wine coolers from the mini-fridge. I fell asleep with the TV on, still wearing my clothes.

I woke up a while later and the first thing I noticed was the pressure in my bladder. I jumped up and opened the door to my room. The hallway was dark except for bright moonlight shining in the floor to ceiling windows along the hall. The house was quiet. To tell you the truth, it freaked me out. I walked down the hallway, through some doors, looking for the way back to the bathroom. I tried a few of the side doors to see if any of them were bathrooms, but no luck. Just a few spare bedrooms, my friend's art studio, and what looked like a study or an office.

The pressure in my bladder was growing and I had to grab myself a few times to fight back occasional surges. I was also still a little tipsy from the alcohol. I looked down the hallway and it still seemed so far to walk, and I hadn't even reached the corridor yet. Another surge of pressure hit and I knew I wouldn't make it much longer. But what could I do? Stand here and pee in my friend's hallway? I had peed in unusual and sometimes naughty places before, but this was my friend's house.

I made my way back to my room and paced the floor, trying to figure out what to do. I was holding myself completely, now, as the pressure was growing to the point of desperation. I would need to decide soon.

I finally peered over at the corner of the room where the dresser was standing and realized there was a little bit of space between the dresser and the wall. I could maybe squeeze back there and pee and no one would find it until well after it dried. I walked over and sure enough the space was just wide enough for my thin frame to scoot behind the dresser.

I knew I couldn't wait any longer as I tugged my panties and jeans down and put my back against the dresser for support as I squatted over the soft carpet. I couldn't believe I was about to piss all over my friend's carpet. The idea kind of excited me a little. As I breathed out, I let go and a warm stream sprayed out of me and at first splashed noisily against the wall and to the floor. I watched it as it streaked down the wall and created a dark puddle on the carpet that grew as my flow continued. I must have peed for a whole minute and I was a little concerned about the size of the puddle, but it was too late now.

When I finally finished, I just removed my panties and jeans, changed into my pajamas, and crawled back into bed. I was asleep in no time at all.

The next morning, when my friend woke me up, I couldn't keep my secret. I apologized and told her exactly what happened. I was ready for her to tell me to pack my stuff and get out. Instead, she laughed. This section of the house was built before indoor plumbing and they never got around to building a bathroom. She was pretty sure the previous owners either went outside to use the bathroom or had a chamber pot.

"This is your wing, now, though," she said. "If you want to live here long term, I can make sure you have privacy. No one has to come out here." She winked at me and I smiled, understanding what she was trying to say. "Breakfast is in an hour," she said, and shut the door behind her.

I stood there, still surprised by her response, but also relieved. I could feel my morning pee creeping up so I pulled my pajama bottoms down and again paced the room. Where would I pee next? Since my secret was out and I had the room to myself, I could be as creative as I wanted. I walked over to the wall and stood facing it. I slid my panties down and kicked them across the room. Still facing the wall, I stood close to it and sighed as I released my morning pee, squirting a strong stream that splashed against the wall and back against my legs and pussy. It was warm and wonderful. I touched myself as I peed, splashing the hot pee against my fingers and listening to it hiss out and patter to the carpet. I climaxed and shouted as my orgasm shook me and I slumped onto the floor, still peeing as I felt its warmth under my bottom.

I think I may be staying here for a while.

Jeanette

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Dear Wet Carpet,

I have to tell you about this dream I had a few nights ago. I think I've been watching too many videos. But if I ever wanted a dream to come true, this is it.

I am in school, college, and I live in a dorm room with three other girls. I don't recognize any of them, but we all seem to be friends. In the dream, I am waking up to get ready for school and I see one of the girls, a thin blonde wearing a thin night gown, sitting up in her bed. She smiles and me and then sighs as she starts peeing, soaking her panties, night gown and bed.

"You'd better pee, too," she says. I look down at my own crotch and it darkens as I also pee into my panties and bed. I can hear moaning and sighing in the bunk above me, also, and the burbling sound of pee saturating the top bunk mattress. Above the blonde girl is another blonde, a little more plump, and she hangs her legs over the top bunk and pees a long stream to the floor.

Then I'm in a class of all girls and I'm wearing loose-fitting shorts, the sporty kind, and the professor, a 40-something but still smoking hot redhead, is teaching something about molecular space microbes. I feel that I have to pee and as I look around the room, I see the plump blonde girl raise her hand. The professor just looks at her and the girl stands, drops her jeans to her knees, and pees through her panties. "Oh, that feels so good," she says. "I had to pee so bad. Mmm."

The professor continues to teach and no one seems to be at all bothered by the blonde's brazen display. Another girl next to me says, "I can't hold it anymore," lifts her skirt, spreads her legs, and pees right in her seat.

"I might as well go," I say. I grab my crotch and look down as I pull the leg of my shorts aside, revealing my bare pussy, and squirt a stream of pee all over the floor at my feet. I look at the professor as I continue to pee and the front of her skirt darkens as she wets herself, still teaching while clear rivulets of warm pee trickle down her leg. Then the fire alarm goes off and everyone looks around.

But it wasn't the fire alarm, it was my alarm to get me up. I turned it off and immediately I noticed my damp and warm crotch. I must have wet my bed during my dream. I sleep naked, so the sheets and mattress were soaked. I licked my lips and quoted my dream. "I might as well go," as I sighed and released the remainder of my bladder, gasping as it trickled out of me and splashed against my thighs, warming the sheets at my crotch. I couldn't resist touching myself as I closed my eyes and imagined my dream again. I came within just a few minutes, screaming as I climaxed.

It took a lot of effort to get up and get ready for work. Maybe I need to go back to college.

Hugs and Kisses,

Mary

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