pdeferred

Loved this, Sophie!  Especially the little bits about putting it off - your writing is wonderful!

See now ... while I have tried a bit of pee on occasion, mostly out of curiosity, I don't think it would occur to me to taste it from the toilet seat, no matter how recently I'd cleaned the bathroom.

$1 million?  Conditional immortality?  Hyperintelligent lower lifeforms?

Obviously, the only solution is to become a super-villain and train an army of sentient hedgehogs to keep the snail at bay.

Seems kind of useful to the extent that even as a guy, I've never been able to pee while sitting in a car without making a mess.

On the other hand - it holds 16oz, which is barely a bladder full, and certainly not a desperate bladder full.

I almost wonder if it's just some sort of modified hospital urinal, but even those are usually larger.

Would, of course, love to see it used ... I've got a bit of a fascination with ladies peeing in things ... but as a working product, it seems a bit of a stretch.

Being apparently one of the few members with a primary interest in desperation, holding is absolutely a part of it for me.  And I prefer not to wet myself, though that isn't always possible.  My holding habits started more as an attempt to understand from a personal level what happens to women as they grow more and more desperate to pee, but it has become enjoyable in and of itself.

Great set of choices, though perhaps heavily weighted toward a certain point of view, which I think is unavoidable.

I'm really surprised that the smell ranks so highly .. though I do enjoy it, it's far from what I think of first.

I had to put E in the end - that's just the way I'm wired. I think it really must be an entirely different category.

One of the great and sometimes frustrating aspects of sexual peeing is that it's not so much one fetish as a cluster of very different fetishes all centered on a bodily fluid.

Even when we talk about desperation, we might be talking about different things - painfully full bladders, the lead in to a wetting, or that specific moment when she simply cannot control her bladder with any amount of effort.

For me - and I suspect for many - my fascination with desperation is rooted in the concept of control, and especially self control.

When I see a desperate woman, I see a woman who is about to lose control over her own body ... and a most sexual and private part of it at that.

The excitement I feel comes from knowing how she is fighting to control her need to urinate - and coming closer and closer to losing that fight - and all that effort is centered between her legs. The sometimes subtle signs of desperation are a big deal because they show how the urge is gradually overpowering her societally enforced desire to conceal her need. I'm also fascinated with other aspects of urinary control - women voluntarily holding it for any number of reasons, holding it at my request, or telling me whether I must hold.

I think there is also a group of pee fans who find desperation interesting because of the wetting or naughty urination it presages, or because it often involves some amount of public humiliation or display of weakness - I don't count myself in that group, but it's out there in force as well and serves again to highlight the incredibly ( and sometimes annoying ) diversity of the community.

As a man, I also find some of the physical symptoms of my own desperation extremely arousing - generally the increasingly urgent spasms as one nears loss of control rather than the pressing fullness. I don't think that it enhances my arousal and orgasm per-se in the same physical way it seems to effect some women ... but if a woman is aroused by exercising control over her bladder , it's a huge turn-on.

The sound of women peeing is a big turn-on for me - especially the hissing of a really full bladder. I always figured that is just because I'm attracted to women - and to peeing - and to desperation - but this thread brings up another possibility.

Male peeing sounds - at least the ones we can hear past a bathroom door - are mostly related to the stream hitting whatever it hits, and not related too much to anatomy. A guy pees, and what you hear is the pee. Maybe a lot, maybe a little, but it's just pee.

When a woman pees loudly, on other hand, the hissing sound is generated by the pressure of urine passing over and through some of her most private anatomy. You are hearing an audio image of her urgent need warmly caressing those secret and sexual folds between her legs. It's an invasion of privacy, to say the least.

To me it's not just that the sound represents a woman emptying her bladder, or of urgency or volume, but that it is directly reflective of her most intimate and sensitive contours. That's the image in my mind whenever I hear it.

I have such a strong personal connection between desperation and sexuality that I often forget not everyone else does.

Needing to pee is somewhat embarrassing to most folks, and there's strong social pressure not to interrupt proceedings with an embarrassing personal issue, but in the end, it's a perfectly reasonable thing to bring up with very little social penalty attached. Going into the restroom of the opposite sex, on the other hand, is actually breaking a taboo.

So you get a variety of answers to the questions:

How badly do you need to go to interrupt a court in session?

How strong does the urge have to be before you ask the men if it's okay to use the men's room?

How desperate are you when you furtively sneak into the men's room?

How urgent is the situation when you admit it to a mixed crowd of strangers?

How much longer can you control yourself when you need to go to ask a female security guard for special dispensation?

How full do you have to be to get in line for the restroom?

There is obviously a hierarchy there, but a lot of it depends on personality, as it's all pretty much self-imposed. There are virtually no actual consequences for doing any of these things, but some girls would no doubt have been actually spurting in their panties before interrupting the judge, if it had come to that.

I think I'm going to have to call this a situation rather than a sighting.

For me at least, there is value in subtlety.

It's always been that way - in the right circumstance, a carefully manicured hand straying to the hip, a bestockinged knee raised just so, or a sudden quiet admission from an otherwise confident woman at the end of her rope can be as exciting, if not more so, than seeing a girl furtively squatting in a dark parking lot. The appeal of all these things is based more on what might be and have been than what *is*.

Last month, I had occasion to be selected as a member of a jury. Instead of the standard twelve angry men, we had a mixed and rather affable group of eight, including six relatively well-groomed women.

The available facilities, on the other hand, were more evenly divided by gender. The jury room had two single restrooms - one for the two men and one for the six women. Jury service here involves driving some distance, often through traffic at a fairly early hour, a good dose of coffee, and a morning schedule more at the whim of the court than the jurors bladders. You can imagine that some interesting situations arose.

Typically, after the morning session, there was a rush to the single available toilet. Being a group of more-or-less strangers who nontheless were going to be working together for a while, there was an odd tension. Everyone was reluctant to admit they needed to go badly, so there was no negotiation, no line forming, but many furtive glances in the direction of the restroom door and squeezed thighs under the table.

One girl did break the silence when another lady sped into the restroom and closed the door. "Oh no! I've been dying to go for the last half hour!" She ensured her place in line, but spent the ensuing FIVE minutes dancing in her seat.

A different woman quietly slipped into the mens room, nobody the wiser.

One lady had arrived somewhat late after an hour-long drive through heavy traffic and missed getting to pee before the trial started that morning. When she didn't get to go first, she quickly negotiated with the security guard to use facilities down the hall rather than wait her turn.

Nothing spectacular, for sure, but an interesting scenario, ripe for a little imagination.

What were you all saying about better late than never? And also about size not mattering?

It's not a measuring cup, but functionally close - and with a digital readout no less.

Perfect for when waiting until everyone has clocked out at work is not a viable option ... though the challenge of waiting until everyone has left is ... intriguing to say the least. Not gonna happen with this bladder capacity ... though I did make it to 900ml once. Level of desperation doesn't always correlate with level of fullness. :O_o:

Some of my earliest memories involve a fascination with girls peeing, but not necessarily a sexual connection. I imagine I had no idea what sex was, but I knew there was something fascinatingly naughty about peeing and wetting when I was four or five years old.

I still remember being ushered into the bathroom with a group of girls because one of them liked to talk while she sat and peed. At that point, I think the difference between girls and boys wasn't quite clear to anyone involved. I also remember very early in school sitting in the library when a girls told me that she had just wet her pants - she definitely connected it with naughtiness at that time too.

In my case, there has definitely been an evolution from really just wanting to see a girl pee up close to a more current fascination with peeing and control, but the secret intimacy has been there ... always.

Medical urinals may be *kind* of boring, but there are some older blown or molded glass models that are actually quite beautiful, and which also have intriguingly erotic shapes. As a teaser, there are both "male" and "female" models available, with appropriately shaped openings.

Also, we should all own a 2L volumetric flask - there are kind of impressive and as a bonus help you measure. In fact, a selection of labware including an erlenmeyer flask for emergencies is a great thing to have.

Lastly, my cache of toys includes a thin plastic bag with handles attached, and a 1kg digital hanging scale with 1gm increments. Perfect equipment for measuring volume in a public bathroom stall - simply go in the bag and weigh it, then pour and flush. At 1g/ml, you're good to go.

Alcohol is definitely a diuretic, but I still find it amazing how differently it seems to effect different people, and how differently it acts from other diuretics like water or caffeine.

For example: I have a lady friend with who I go out drinking on a regular basis. We tend toward quite alcoholic things like wine and cocktails, or very strong beers, and are usually fine over the course of a long evening without more than a casual visit to the facilities. And indeed, arriving home there may be some amount of urgency, but nothing like a desperate, overwhelming need to go every 20 minutes.

Once, though, we went to a different sort of establishment. Not far from her home, but serving not much more than light American lagers at the amazing rate of a dollar a bottle. At 4% ABV or so, it too quite some number to feel more than bewildered, and they had a lot of different brands to try, leading us to initiate a sort of experiment ( the conclusion of which was that - yes - they are definitely all like sex in a canoe ). We ended up drinking something on the order of 4 pints apiece - not a lot of alcohol, all things considered.

However, the effect was extraordinary. My ladyfriend, somewhat suspicious of the restrooms to begin with, was obliged to use the facilities not only one time during our fairly short stay, but also just before we left, and was left curtsying and nearly grabbing herself in the elevator on the way up to her apartment, despite it being quite close by. I'm quite sure that if it were further, it would have been a choice between finding a bush behind which to squat, and arriving home with some very damp undergarments. I can only conclude by saying that I'm all for light lagers.

What I'd also conclude is that it's not just the alcohol. There are other factors. But yes - drinking leads to peeing. Sometimes quite urgent.

As for girls peeing more openly these days, perhaps there are fewer places to hide, less of a stigma associated with being unladylike ... whether that means drinking heavily or squatting in a parking lot. :)

In the interest of science: I was referred by a thread or two on peesearch.net that mention the site.

Hi Everyone - just a long-time refugee from the internet dropping in to see what's up over here, and hoping to connect with a wider community.

I mostly come at this from a desperation and control angle these days, but from the beginning I have been terribly attracted to almost all aspects of the intersection of urination and sexual tension. At first, it was just wanting to see or hear girls peeing, but that's gradually refined itself into an appreciation for wetting, naughty weeing, holding and pretty much everything else.

I already see a few familiar faces ( or possibly names and other body parts ), and I hope that I will be able to contribute quite a bit to the conversation in the days to come.