sd91

18 hours ago, ChrisS said:

Wonderfully written! Was this a real or fictional account @sd91?

Real account! I try to write things close to the time of happening like here, but also I like to be descriptive when I do choose to write about a pee. Some of the descriptions are a bit deep or storytell-y for the reality, which is that it's me, squatting and peeing outside, yet again... but they make the experience last in my/your mind 🙂 

I might have been inspired by this thread last friday...

The sun hung low in the sky as I navigated the winding roads home from a client meeting. As the minutes turned into hours, a familiar sensation began to gnaw at my insides.

With each passing mile, my need for both refreshment and relief grew more urgent, until finally, I spotted the glowing lights of the gas station on the horizon. I breathed a sigh of relief, only to pull into the forecourt to find the store shuttered and the toilets with it. I would normally just keep driving back out and find a bush to wee in, as this has happened to me before. However, I had other things in mind...

But as I watched the steady stream of cars filing in and out of the station, an idea began to form—a wild, reckless impulse that sent a shiver of excitement down my spine. With a determined glint in my eye, I slipped out of the car and made my way to the dimly lit side of the building, my white blouse and navy blue blazer a stark contrast against the darkness of the night.

With a quick glance around to ensure my privacy, I crouched behind the row of bins, my bladder throbbed with urgency, a pressure that only occurs when it's time is so close to release. I hastily hitched up my navy blue skirt, the fabric bunching around my hips, and peeled down the sheer black tights that clung to my skin. My white blouse strained against my chest, betraying the rapid rhythm of my heartbeat as I prepared to surrender to the call of nature.

I squatted low to the ground, I squatted low, my knees trembling with anticipation. Positioning myself for release, I parted my legs slightly, allowing my tights to stretch taut against my lower thighs as I braced myself for the inevitable release.

And then, with a guttural moan of relief, I let go - a deluge of warmth flooding from between my legs and onto the waiting pavement below. The sound of urine leaving my vagina hissed as the subsequent splash against the tarmac mingled with the distant hum of passing traffic, filling the alleyway with the unmistakable scent of my piss. I looked down, and framed by a tuft of neatly trimmed hair, my urinating vagina, with my labia naturally parting to welcome the torrent of liquid ecstasy.

The stream erupted from my vagina with a force that bordered on violent, a torrent of very human liquid that splattered against the pavement with a wet, squelching sound. It cascaded down in rivulets, painting the ground in lurid hues of amber, mingling with the grime and filth of the urban landscape and glinting in the lamp light.

As my stream continued unabated, I forced my muscles to relax, willing my bladder to empty as quickly as possible in fear of being caught. The sound of my urine hitting the pavement was almost deafening in its intensity, a cacophony of release that reverberated through the alleyway with a primal rhythm all its own.

And as the last few drops trickled from my body, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction wash over me - a reminder that there's a thrill in succumbing to your urges. With a tissue in hand, I wiped myself dry, absorbing the urine from my previously dripping wet labia, the tissue coming away wet and sticky from against my flesh, leaving me with an additional twinge of excitement as I tossed it into the pool of urine I leave behind, marking my territory.

As I straightened my clothes and surveyed the aftermath of my escapade - a puddle of liquid gold shimmering in the moonlight - I couldn't help but feel a rush of exhilaration coursing through my veins. I walk back over to my car confidently, yet I suspect leaving little to the imagination of anyone who saw me emerge from the side of the station.

 

 

Not long before Christmas I had a quite naughty wee that almost got me caught! I shared this one with someone on this forum and now share it with you all!

Fresh from the gym, I was heading back to work. Endorphins coursing through my veins, I was suddenly hit with an overwhelming need to pee. Dressed in my gym gear – tight, stretchy leggings and a lightweight tank top with a track jacket to keep me warm – I was acutely aware of every step I took towards the office, each one intensifying the pressure in my bladder.

I had went to a gym class and felt a slight need to wee pretty much before the class started, but focusing on the workout and the adrenaline just meant it left my mind. I then left without going by accident because I genuinely forgot to! I could've waited until I got to the office but where's the fun in that? Also why wait in discomfort?

Desperation and the thrill led me to an alleyway just off a side street, a very narrow one large enough for one person. Knowing relief was close I barely had time to find a somewhat hidden spot before I knew I had to squat. I hurriedly pulled down my leggings and underwear, squatting against the cold wall. The urgency was so great that the moment I started to squat, a torrent of urine burst forth. It gushed out powerfully, a bright, clear yet yellow tinged stream that cascaded onto the concrete below with a loud splashing noise.

Looking down, the sight was raw and unfiltered – my exposed vagina, with my labia slightly parted as they allow out. torrent of wee with a whistle-like hiss. The relief was immediate, a heavy sigh escaping the lips of my mouth as the pressure began to decrease.

The urine splashed onto the ground, creating a growing puddle that reflected the dim light of the alley. I could feel some splash-back, droplets of my own urine lightly misting my bare thighs and the fabric around my calves began to feel ever so slightly damp. The smell was strong, that unmistakable scent of fresh urine, marking this secluded spot as my territory, my urban toilet.

The urine pooled at my feet, a steaming puddle forming on the cold concrete. The heat from the puddle rose in steam, which felt as if it was rising up to my vulva as if a brief respite from the cold.

Midway through, I heard footsteps approaching. My heart raced – the thrill of possibly being caught always heightens the experience. A woman walked past the entrance of the alley, but thankfully, she didn’t glance inside. I think she had AirPods in too, which avoided her hearing the loud sound of me pissing. Even so, the near miss made me anxious. I tried to hurry, squeezing to expel the urine faster. The stream became more forceful, spraying out with less control. It splattered wider, some droplets even reaching the wall I was facing.

In a final push, my bladder released a few strong, gushing squirts, emptying out what was left. I could feel each squirt as a separate release, a more intense sensation each time. Finally, the last of my urine was dripping from my soaked labia, the relief complete and my heart still racing from the near discovery.

Without having my tissues ready in my hand and not wanting to get caught, I opted to shake off the remaining droplets and let the air dry me as much as it could. Pulling up my leggings and adjusting my top, I glanced back at the aftermath. The puddle was substantial, a testament to my desperation, with small rivulets branching out and touching both walls, carrying the scent of my urine through the alley.

I stepped out of the alley, back onto the sidewalk, feeling a mix of exhilaration and relief. The sense of urgency that had dominated my thoughts just minutes before was now replaced by a quiet satisfaction and the thrill of what I had just done.

On 1/5/2023 at 9:17 AM, sd91 said:

When it snowed in December, I decided I simply had to piss on it.

In the morning, I woke up and deliberately didn't go and pee. I was already pretty desperate so I got washed and dressed quickly within about 15 minutes putting on a  thick grey jumper and light blue jeans, with a light pink trainers and coat. Off I get into the car. I drove towards the office in a neighbouring town, where I had a spot in my head at a closed down DIY store. On the way in there's an area I drive through in my own town, with a bunch of apartments and a station on one side and houses and bungalows on the other. There's a spot where the railway bridge and the walI of the bungalow form an alleyway. I've always been curious about this spot because I remember seeing a guy run off into a recess in the wall of the bungalow and it seemed obvious what was going to happen but even when I walked past I couldn't really see anything. I start to think I might be able to have an even naughtier wee here! I park up at the small lot on the right and walk towards the spot. Theres a pavement for people to walk alongside the road and under the bridge but luckily it's a bit quieter this morning. So far, the snow in the alleyway has been barely touched.

I go over to the recessed area, and the snow is untouched! This recess is essentially a diagonal line where the bungalow narrows. On the other end of the alley is the front of another bungalow, and the blinds seem to be drawn. I'm desperate for a wee, especially now I'm in the cold, so I'm just going to do it. I back against the wall and I can't see the walkway or the main road. Perfect! I unbutton my jeans and slide them down along with my black knickers and drop into a squat. I feel the cold air over my pussy, the very short ginger hairs around it, not doing much to keep it warm. There squatted over the street pavement I try to wee. Despite being desperate I feel like I might have chosen quite an open place and can't start. I look left to right over at the other bungalow and the walkway. I look at that the window I've chosen to squat a metre from. It's now or never and I force out a yellow morning pee with a strong hiss as the urine leaves my labia and splashes down onto the snow in front of me. Steam firstly comes off the snow before I notice my stream also has steam coming off it in mid air due to the difference in temperature! Although the snow must have been nearly 6 inches thick, I piss my way through it with a small hole after a few seconds with an unusually high pressure stream. I have a quick look around before then playing with my stream by making a 'pee V' with my fingers. Basically an upside down v shape with two fingers, and placing them each side of your vagina. I pull back and forth for a couple of seconds before going left or right. I might have mistimed this as my stream started to die down, or it might have just been a mistake as I ended up weeing on my fingers spraying my stream left and right. I lift up my hand and shake it a little whilst I let my stream dwindle. I let out one final squirt which sprays an inch or so further than where my stream originally was going. The result of this was that there was a small but slightly expanding hole all the way through to the pavement with a yellow rim, with yellow droplets spattered all around it. You could also see a build up of my piss permeating through from the bottom of the hole and to the rest of the area, making the whole area a lighter yellow. Given what had happened to my fingers already, and having had a very naughty pee, I wipe my pussy with my hand quickly sliding it upwards, shaking it off again and pulling up my jeans and knickers. I walk off quickly, not having had a chance to record myself or take any pictures because I was in quite a public area. I get back into my car, sanitise my hands, and drive to work.

When I go to an actual toilet later on, I can't help but play with myself over the thought of making that yellow snow, and pissing publicly next to that bungalow.

This afternoon I revisited this spot...

It's been a lovely sunny Sunday, wearing my flirty floral sundress and my roman sandals, with the plan of another brunch with friends. However, this time I'd gone commando, anticipating the opportunity for a public wee. I had a glass of berocca before I left as well to add to the fun.

Three mimosas deep and zero wee breaks, I say goodbye to my friends. The familiar alleyway from that winter day was close by. A smirk played on my lips as I remembered that frosty morning. I already felt the desperate need to relieve myself, the pressure building rapidly. My bare pussy, concealed only by the light fabric of the dress, felt a tingling mix of excitement and urgency.

Getting into the alleyway and into the alcove, I hastily lifted my sundress, revealing my ginger-fringed snatch to the world. Squatting was as easy as lifting up my relatively short dress and assuming the position taking a moment to glance at my exposed vagina, my labia slightly parted. Before I knew it, a mighty torrent erupted from my pee hole, shot out with such force that it hissed audibly as it left my body, spraying the dry paving slabs beneath. I let out a rather large sigh of relief.

Thanks to the Berocca, the stream was a vivid and fluorescent, a bold yellow bordering on orange. The pavement beneath got painted with an electric hue, creating a stark contrast to its bland grey. The aroma emerged, a hint of sweet and citrus along with the typical damp and pungent smell. God I love the smell of my piss, and its all the sweeter when I'm pissing outside someones home, my bum pressed against their wall.

The once silent alley echoed with the audacious sound of my urine forcefully striking the now wettened slabs. I forgot to check whether their windows were open before I started!  I glanced over and saw the window was open on the latch but the curtain were drawn. Slightly nervous I squeeze a bit harder and my stream jets a little further forward.

Reveling in the naughty thrill, I played around just like before. Spreading my labia apart with an upside down v shape, I was amused to see how my stream divided, shooting off in multiple directions. I watched with delight as my urine puddled, the light catching the bright yellowness and formed rivulets across the alleyway.

It felt like an eternity but was only around 20 seconds before I began to taper off. A few forceful spurts, a dribble, and then the final drops marking the end of my bold exhibition.

I was sodden down there, with wee dripping off my labia and the bottom of my thighs, I realised I hadn't got a tissue out because I was too busy playing with my stream. Not wanting to stick around while I did, I had to improvise. Giving a small shake with my hand around my pubic area, I tried to get as much off as I could, but the wetness lingered. With a sigh, I decided to let the summer air do the job of drying my pussy and stood right back up as my dress falls into place.

As I stood and looked at the aftermath of my little escapade, I couldn’t help but marvel at the scene. The once dry alley was now adorned with a shimmering puddle, the bright yellow of my urine contrasting starkly with the darkened wet patches that radiated outward. The strong scent of my piss lingered in the air, a potent reminder of the act I'd just committed. As I walked away I noticed what seemed to me to be a dry urine stain on the wall of the bungalow. They must get this a lot, I thought...

As I've said before I wee outside quite often, normally 2-3 times a week. Recently, I have been caught twice though! Here's the first of those experiences...

The charm of the stalls, the bustling crowd, and my sun-kissed auburn hair dancing in the soft summer breeze made me feel alive. Wearing my favourite navy-blue sundress, cinched at the waist, sipping my chai latte, a creeping urgency began to make itself known. The glass of wine with brunch earlier and what I was now following it up with was putting quite a bit of strain on my bladder. 20 minutes after that chai, I needed to relieve myself.

Feeling mischievous, the idea of using the facilities of a nearby café seemed too dull and the market itself had no public toilets. The thrilling thought of weeing outside around a busy market piqued my interest. walked down a quieter side street I'm familiar with and I spotted an alleyway leading to the rear door of a Tesco Express nearby. This could be my secret spot, I thought.

I ventured into the alley, ensuring no one was around. Placing my tote bag down, I hitched up my dress with one hand, and pulled down my white lace knickers with the other. Hidden from the main street's prying eyes, I positioned myself near the back entrance of the store. As I squatted, I took a moment to appreciate the sensation of the cool air breeze over my labia. I took a deep breath, ready to release. The pressure was so intense that there was barely a moment between hiking up my dress and the sound of my urine forcefully gushing out.

My wee began, hissing audibly as it left my vagina, before splattering against the concrete below and flecks landing on my feet exposed by my sandals. The sunlight revealed its mild amber hue. I could smell an acidy, slightly sweet urine scent, perhaps the unusual combination of chardonnay and chai that was now being sprayed over the pavement.

Lost in the experience, I was jolted back to reality when I heard the sudden opening of the rear door. A young female employee, who can't have been more than like 20 with a black pixie cut and wearing the Tesco uniform, appeared, her eyes widening in surprise at seeing me weeing outside her work, in broad daylight. Before I could react, I found myself locking eyes with a woman, her gaze as wide as mine. The loud hissing of my urine seemed to intensify, filling the silence between us.

"Oh! I'm so sorry," I stammered, trying to halt my stream, but it took a second or two to stop, all the while this woman was clearly able to see my vagina and the urine spraying out of it over her place of work. The young woman blinked, then gave a reassuring smile and looking down, away from me. "It's okay, really. It happens to all of us." She chuckled while pulling out a lighter for her cigarette.

 "So normally we do let some customers use our staff toilets if they really need to. Failing that maybe find somewhere that isn't right by our work door."

Feeling very flushed in the face, I apologise again "I'm really sorry again I don't normally do this! However, also feeling emboldened I ask "It hurts from stopping mid way...do you mind if I finish weeing?"

She raised an eyebrow but then chuckled. "Go on then. Damage is done really!"

"Oh no, don't say that!" I responded.

Still squatting, I tried to relax but found it challenging with an audience. Squeezing hard to hasten the process, I jetted out a forceful urine stream, sighing as the relief came and the pain I felt had melted away. It wasn't very dignified, the loud, gushing, splashing sound echoed in the confined space as I emptied myself as quickly as possible, leading to splashes on my feet and sandals, as well as a drip down my inner thigh. The woman leaned against the wall, puffing away on her cigarette, seemingly lost in her own world. Eventually my wee came to a stop, the last couple of drops dripping from my labia and into the puddle.

I wiped my labia dry, the tissue soaking up the remnants. A large puddle of wee lay there, shimmering as it rolled down the slight incline of the alleyway toward the street. I didn't want to admit I got wee on myself too, so instead of wiping that down I drop the tissue back into my tote, avoiding the woman's gaze.

The woman gave a smirk still looking away mostly. "All done?" She asked, presumably having heard the sound of me weeing stop.

"Yes, thank you," I replied, still flushed. I started pulling my knickers up whilst still squatted before standing up and  my dress falling back down over the top of my legs. "Thank you for being understanding" I said as I begun to walk away.

"You're welcome" she smirked.

 

 

 

On 6/3/2023 at 11:36 PM, Geepee9 said:

A few days ago I was driving into a large manufacturing site and on the way in there is an industrial estate after some rural land. I approached a parked car in the tree lined road, and a smartly business suited woman appeared from behind a bush at the side of her car, smoothing her dress down. I was pretty sure I knew what had just happened. I overtook her car and carried on a couple of hundred yards to the entrance gate to pick up a contractors pass. As I was signing in She drove through the gate, waved through by security, indicating to me she was probably an employee there or at least an expected visitor. I wonder what would have made her stop to pee just before she could have easily found a toilet in work, maybe having an urgent meeting and not wanting to arrive bursting and being too shy to being seen dashing for the loo maybe. Often my wife will pee somewhere outdoors maybe a mile or so before arriving at a friends house being less shy to pee outdoors that ask for the loo as soon as we meet. Any ones ideas would be welcome.

Wow, when I first saw this I thought I had been seen for a moment there by someone on this forum!

I then double checked and realised the days don't match up and I wasn't wearing a full suit, and finally I went back into my car rather than going in. Here is my story though! One I wasn't going to write up but since wanted to share.

Tuesday started off with the usual frenetic pace of a day with a client, with me driving out of town early in the morning to meet a client further afield. As it was quite a distance, I had to leave ahead of what my satnav suggested to account for any potential hiccups along the way.

As I pulled into the car park adjacent to the client's site, I had arrived 30 minutes early! I felt the familiar twinge in my bladder - an unavoidable aftermath of my hasty morning coffee and trying to stay hydrated in the warmth with little sips from my water bottle.

I sat for a while, contemplating my options. I decided to carry on as normal for now and checked my phone. An email from another client was needed and I spent a few minutes typing out a reply. I was soon reminded of a need to urinate. I looked out my car window and I had my options. I could wait until it made sense to enter and just quickly use the loo. I could drive over to the nearby coffee shop and use theirs whilst grabbing some refreshments. Alternatively there were some tall bushes bordering the car park. They didn't face the client's site, providing a semblance of privacy. I decided that I felt no reason to wait in discomfort.

Making my decision, I got out of the car, wearing my powder blue blouse, and navy skirt, complete with some black roman sandals I was comfortable both driving in and meeting the client in. Trying to be as discreet as possible, I darted into the bushes. 

Finding myself inside the safe barrier of the bushes, I carefully hitched my skirt upwards and squatting down. The cool morning air brushed against my neatly groomed area, a sea of trimmed red hair that sat just above my vagina. Exposing my vagina next to the client's office felt rather liberating. I'm very used to an al-fresco wee before a client meeting but not usually quite so close by.

The coolness of the morning air grazed my exposed skin, the contrast between the warm sunlight and the morning breeze lending a certain excitement to the moment. Then came the release, a rush of warmth as I sprayed out my urine confidently. The sound of it hitting the dry leaves and soil was almost musical, a soft rustling interspersed with the sharper tinkling of liquid on foliage.

The force of my urine, vibrant and tinged with yellow, created a small puddle below, the liquid pooling onto the parched soil. I tilted my head back muttering 'God' as I continued to piss with gusto, realising that i possibly needed this more than I thought.

The stream eventually tapered, slowing to a trickle before stopping altogether. A few stubborn droplets remained, glinting in the morning light on my labia before shook them off. Pulling out a tissue from my bag, I dabbed my vagina and the inside of my thight ensuring that I was dry and clean before discarding the tissue into my puddle of urine.

Straightening myself and lowering my skirt back into place, I emerged from the bushes. The earlier bladder twinge was completely gone, replaced by a profound sense of relief and enjoyment.

I walked back to my car, the bushes concealing their use as a female urinal. It was more than just alleviating a physical need; it was an act of taking control, of prioritising my comfort and convenience, as well as simply a fun experience. Settled back in the driver's seat, the upcoming client meeting was no longer shadowed by discomfort. There was a certain power in taking care of oneself, even in the simplest of ways, and that morning, in a car park with my client's site within view, I had done just that, with something as simple as pissing in a bush.

Squat and spray. That's what I say!

Hey there,

It's Emma again. 

https://peefans.com/topic/2779-wet-carpet-magazine/?do=findComment&comment=350010

Quote

I once had a wee behind one of those pulled up vans selling refreshments, but that’s another story.

Remember when I said this? This is that story.

A crucial part of being an account executive is the ability to navigate unforeseen circumstances. In my case, this skill extends beyond professional situations. Here's that very memorable story that unfolded during a long drive one morning to a client meeting.

Navigating the meandering roads, I felt my bladder's plea for release grow more urgent. Having had a coffee as I left and sipped on water whilst driving, it wasn't long before the discomfort became unbearable. Looking at the GPS, the promise of a rest stop was ominously distant. Desperation set in. That’s when I saw it - a roadside burger van, my unexpected saviour.

With a quick park and a hop out of my car, I dashed towards the vendor. He was a burly man, serving a customer, his laughter booming through the crisp air.

"Do you happen to have a restroom?" I asked, hopefully. He shook his head apologetically. "Sorry, love, no restroom here. Just burgers."

Taking a deep breath, I decided on my course of action. I was dressed in a black skirt with black tights and a navy blouse, attire hardly meant for such circumstances, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

A woman now behind me having got out of her car shortly after me, I leaned closer to the vendor, my voice dropping to a whisper. "This is a bit embarrassing, but... could I possibly use the bushes behind your van?"

His eyebrows raised momentarily, then a chuckle escaped his lips. "Sure, just make a mess!" he winked.

With a grateful nod, I darted towards the back of the van, given my desperation, I didn't care so much that a woman just behind me might be curious as to what I was up to! that said, my heart pounded as I lifted my skirt, pulling down my tights and black satin thong, revealing the carefully trimmed dark landing strip atop my labia.

I squatted, feeling the cool evening air against my exposed skin, and almost as soon as I dropped below a 90 degree angle, I released. The stream of urine was torrential, a forceful gush of light-yellow liquid that struck the dried leaves below with surprising intensity. The sound was louder than I expected, a cacophony of sounds against the quiet backdrop of the evening. The telltale hiss of the liquid being rushing out of my urethra and jutting open my labia, followed by the sizzle and splash as it hit against the leaves with some force. The smell of my urine was sharp and distinctly human, cutting through the aroma of the grilling burgers. The smell seemed to follow the steam; generated by my warm fluids reaching the cool air and even cooler ground.

Crouched behind the burger van, feeling my stream of urine hit the dried leaves, I was acutely aware of every sensation, but none moreso than the relief and alleviating pressure on my bladder, followed by the warmth I feel as it passes through me and between my legs. Thirdly I'm aware of tiny spatters of splashback against my cool thighs and backside. The overall sensation of this weeing experience. was almost heavenly. My vagina, usually hidden and private, was fully exposed and actively participating in this public setting, its inner muscles orchestrating a forceful flow.

My urine continued to pour out of me, a steady stream that held a rhythmic pattern. Along with the sound, it seemed to harmonise with the far-off sounds of the busy road, the low hum of the vendor's van, and the occasional laughter from the customer. The strong, earthy aroma of my urine mixed with the smell of dried leaves, creating an oddly natural scent in the air.

For a few long seconds, it was just me and nature - primal, raw, and liberating. This was a testament to a fundamental part of being human, a necessary process usually hidden behind closed doors, now taking place right here, behind a place of business of sorts, people less than 5 metres away whilst I take care of a very different kind of business.

As I squatted there, my stream started to lose its vigour, tapering from a gushing stream into a softer trickle. My bladder, once stretched taut with urgency, began to relax. My vaginal muscles squeezed as I emptied the last few squirts from my body, seeing no reason why I should fully empty myself whilst I have the opportunity. As the last few sprays jetted past, I reached for the tissue in my pocket, ready to conclude this impromptu rendezvous with nature.

My bladder finally emptied, and a quick wipe later, I was pulling up my tights, an unusual sense of relief holding over me.

As I walked around to the front of the van to discard the sodden tissue in the bin, I noticed the young woman, the vendor's customer. She was smirking, a spark of amusement in her eyes.

"Sounded like you really had to go," she said, her grin wide. "You're braver than I am!"

I laughed whilst a wave of embarassed warmth ran over me. However I quickly collected myself, throwing a wave in their direction "I was ready to burst to be honest! I guess when you have to go, you have to go!". I approached the vendor saying "I'm sorry about that, it was that or wet myself" The vendor shrugged and said, "No harm done, but next time remember we only do burgers, not bathrooms!" his booming laugh becoming apparent again, followed by a chuckle from his customer.

Reflecting on that day, I recognise the lengths we sometimes go to when nature urgently calls. This experience taught me that as long as you respect the people around you, there aren't many places you can't answer that call. I also learned how exhilarating it can be having a massive, steamy wee merely metres away from some strangers whilst they hear the whole thing!

Part 1 here!

My name is Ciara, a 28-year-old Irish freelance graphic designer with a spirit of adventure and a love for life's unexpected moments. My long, wavy blonde hair and bright blue eyes often draw people's attention, while my slender figure is a result of my active lifestyle. I have a medical condition that sometimes causes me not to feel the urge to urinate until it becomes quite urgent. Over time, I've not only become adept at finding discreet places to relieve myself outdoors, but I've also come to embrace and enjoy the thrill of it.

 

I woke up early on the day of the carnival, excited for the festivities ahead. Before heading out with my friends, I decided to go for a morning jog to get my blood pumping and clear my head. As I got dressed, I put on my tight grey booty shorts, a yellow crop top with a sports bra underneath, and my white running shoes. I realised I hadn't gone to the toilet yet, but I was eager to start my jog, so I decided to take my chances (or deal with the consequences) and head out.

As I started jogging through the park, the rhythmic bouncing motion only seemed to bring about the urge to pee. I was only halfway through my usual route when I realised I wouldn't be able to hold it in any longer. I scanned the area for a secluded spot where I could relieve myself.

Luckily, I spotted a small grove of bushes off to the side of the path. I quickly made my way over, checking to make sure no one was around. Once I felt confident that I was hidden from view. Behind the bushes, I hurriedly pulled down my grey booty shorts and underwear, squatting as close to the ground as I could. As I squat down to urinate, I can feel both my soft pink outer labia and my more delicate inner labia parting slightly, forming a natural curve. The pressure of my full bladder caused my wee to begin just while I was lowering myself causing it to gush out forcefully, creating a strong stream. As I begin to relieve myself, I can see my wee gush out through the lips of my fully shaven vagina and over the wildflowers.

As I was releasing my morning pee, I felt an incredible sense of relief as it hissed out of me and splashed out onto the wildflowers and soil beneath me. The colour was a dark yellow, indicating my body's need for hydration after sleeping. I couldn't help but sigh as the pressure in my bladder subsided as its contents emptied over the bluebells, and daisies as well as soaking a nearby fern resulting in a constant rainfall of golden droplets dripping off and joining the puddle of urine forming on the soil. The smell of my morning urine created a smell around me similar to that of a public toilet, despite not using one.

During the entire process, I was hyper-aware of my surroundings, listening for any sounds that might indicate someone approaching. Despite the urgency of the situation, I couldn't deny the thrill of relieving myself outdoors. I knew this wouldn’t be the last time today as I knew the toilet situation at the carnival was always pretty dire, but no problem. I think it’s quite fun weeing outside. The urgency of the situation made the act of relieving myself feel even more gratifying. Additionally, the fact that I was outdoors and had to be resourceful added a thrill to the experience.

Once I had finished, I carefully wiped myself with a tissue I had in my pocket and discarded it into the bushes. After pulling up my grey booty shorts and underwear, I took a deep breath and continued my jog, feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the day ahead.

 

After my morning jog, I got showered and dressed ready for a day at the carnival. I wore a colourful crop top that showcased my slim waist, paired with high-waisted skinny jeans that hugged my curves, and comfortable sneakers perfect for dancing the day away. I set off planned to meet my friends at a pub near the carnival. On the train towards the pub, I began to feel a familiar pressure building in my bladder.

As I got off the train and left the station the sensation of needing to wee grew more intense with each step I took. I clenched my muscles, trying my best to hold it in as I hurried along. When I finally arrived at the pub, I spotted my friends through the window, laughing and enjoying their drinks. I waved and entered, my main focus being to find a restroom as quickly and discreetly as possible.

I greeted my friends with a tight-lipped smile, informing them that I needed to use the restroom, walking past them quickly. My friend were all well aware of my medical condition.

As I made my way towards the restrooms, I noticed that the queue for the ladies' room was just outside the door. Desperate and unwilling to wait, I noticed the disabled toilet nearby and decided to use it instead.

Once inside, I locked the door and quickly realised that the toilet itself was a little messy. At this point, my desperation took over, and I made the decision to wee in the sink. Luckily, the sink was low enough for me to try standing in front of it. I quickly pulled down my jeans and black lacy underwear, then carefully used my fingers to aim my urethra directly at the sink basin.

I finally let go and began to wee, I could hear the sound of my clear urine hitting the porcelain, echoing in the small room. I focused on maintaining my aim and ensuring that my stream flowed directly into the sink. After about 10 seconds, the pressure in my bladder disappeared, and I carefully released my grip after a quick jiggle to get rid of any droplets on my labia into the sink. I waddled over to the toilet, wiped with a bit of tissue paper and pulled up my jeans and underwear. I washed my hands, and left the restroom, grateful that I had managed to find a solution and ready to enjoy the day with my friends. By this point, I was interested in having some fun with all of this. I decided that none of my urine would reach a toilet bowl today.

 

After the pub, we made our way to Notting Hill Carnival. There were a fair few things to eat and drink As we made our way through the vibrant streets, dancing to the beat of steel drums and enjoying the irresistible aromas of jerk chicken and other mouthwatering dishes, I abruptly felt the all-too-familiar urgency to wee. The carnival was packed with people, and I knew finding a restroom would be difficult, with one or two of my friends still in a queue nearby after 20 minutes. I told my friends about my predicament, and we began searching for a suitable spot for a squat.

After a few minutes of scouting, we stumbled upon a basement level apartment entrance below a house, with a short set of steps leading down to it. The steps were partially obscured from the street, offering some privacy. Although it was not an ideal location, my desperation left me with little choice. I hurried down the steps, a couple of  friends standing guard at the top to ensure no one would interrupt me.

Once down there I saw the doorstep on one side, surrounded by some plant pots. On the other side, I saw a corner with a tell-tale urine stain against the wall and on the floor beneath it. I unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down along with my underwear, revealing my clean-shaven and smooth vagina. I squatted down leaning against a large planter, positioning myself so that my wee would flow away from my body and clothing. As I began to wee, I felt a deep sense of relief, and my powerful stream of light yellow wee parted my labia slightly before hitting the ground with force, creating a puddle beneath me. A faint smell of urine filled the air, before blending in to the various scents of the carnival.

I continued to wee for about 45 seconds, noticing several yellow droplets splash onto the white leather and rubber at the front of my sneakers . However I was simply grateful for the opportunity to relieve myself amidst the chaos of the carnival. Once I finished, I wiped myself with a tissue from my bag and tossed it into the rather large puddle I had produced, watching for a couple of seconds as it soaked up the liquid before turning yellow and sinking.

I pulled up my underwear and jeans, taking a moment to appreciate the exhilaration and satisfaction of yet another successful outdoor wee break. I rejoined my friends, and we resumed our carnival adventure, sharing laughter and creating lasting memories.

 

Later on, as the Carnival continued and was at its peak, I found myself needing to wee once more. A bit more prepared this time, I mentioned my need to my friends, and we set off to find the toilets.

As we wandered, we spotted a row of portable toilets set up specifically for the carnival. I felt relieved, knowing that this would be a more convenient option than searching for a place for another private pee and probably wetting myself trying.

As we all queued together, I realised that the queue was too long for me to wait. The urge to wee had become quite strong, and I knew I couldn't hold it much longer thanks to my condition. I turned to my friends and explained my situation, telling them that I was going to sneak behind the  portable toilets to relieve myself. They understood and decided to stay behind and queue.

I quickly made my way behind the portable toilets, pulling out a pack of tissues from my bag. The toilets were backed up against the wall of a building. I was hoping hoping to find some privacy but to my surprise, I found a young woman in her early 20s already squatting behind one of the portable toilets. She had dark skin and an athletic build, shoulder-length curly hair, and wore a yellow tank top with matching shorts, which were pulled down to her knees. I caught a glance of a clear stream of urine flowing from between her beautifully dark legs. Her intimate area was well-groomed, with her pubic hair shaved into a neat landing strip. Her labia were a beautiful shade of dark pink, and her inner labia were barely visible, tucked inside her outer labia. As she relieved herself, her clear urine stream flowed steadily from her urethra. Beneath her was a growing puddle on the ground however, the whole ground beneath us was wet.

The woman noticed me and gave me a knowing smile, understanding the predicament we both found ourselves in. I returned the smile and quickly moved to one of the other portable toilets. Whilst I was looking for privacy I didn’t have a problem relieving myself alongside another woman.

I bent slightly at the waist and leaned forward, extending an arm to brace myself against the side of the portable toilet. I unzipped my jeans, slid them down along with my underwear, and carefully exposed my vagina once more this time in a semi-squatting stance to find a comfortable and stable position for urinating. I tilted my hips forward slightly to aim my urethra towards the side of the portable toilet and avoid splashback.

As I began to wee, I felt a sense of relief washing over me. My urine stream splashed against the side of the portable toilet, creating a distinct splattering sound as it hit the plastic surface before gently running down onto the pavement beneath me.

I couldn't help but notice the young woman finishing up her wee. She started to shake herself dry, before I offered her a tissue. Leaning slightly toward the side whilst still urinating. She leans forward to grab it saying thank you as she did before beginning to wipe, dryers herself off with one leg towards me further away from her body. She dropped the tissue after wiping and pulled up her shorts, and gave me another smile and thanking me for the company, laughing and leaving the concealed area behind the portable toilets.

As I continued peeing, I overheard a woman exiting one of the portable toilets, exclaiming to her friend, “Oh my god, someone was pissing against the wall behind me while I was sat on the loo!" The woman sounded shocked and slightly annoyed.

My heart raced but I could still feel a bit to go in my bladder. Instead of stopping now and need to go yet again later I decided to try to finish quickly and avoid any potential confrontation. I squeezed as I spray my urine out behind me, only making my stream splash harder against the plastic wall as I heard someone else enter and close the door. As soon as I had finished, I wiped myself with a tissue and threw it into the puddle of urine. I pulled up my jeans and underwear, and hurried back to my friends, who were waiting for me. I kept an eye on the person who then came out of the toilet I urinated against and saw a brunette about my age exit. She wouldn’t know it was me but it was an interesting and mildly embarrassing thought that her and seemingly her friend heard me pee quite loudly, and only a plastic wall separated my urine from their back. With hindsight I could see why the woman was shocked!

 

As the day progressed into the late afternoon, the carnival was in full swing, and I was having a great time with my friends. However, I could feel that pressure building in my bladder once more. Just as I was about to excuse myself to look for a restroom, my phone rang. It was my mum, who wanted to check in. I couldn't ignore her call as I was trying to get hold of her the past few days, so I reluctantly answered it, knowing that I couldn't afford to wait any longer to find a place to relieve myself.

As I spoke on the phone, my mum was asking about the carnival and if I was having fun. I did my best to focus on the conversation while scanning the area for a suitable and discreet spot to wee. I was growing increasingly desperate, and I knew I had to act fast. Finally, I spotted a small alleyway between two food stalls that seemed at least partly concealed. I quickly excused myself from my friends, telling them I needed to take this call, and hurried over to the alley.

Once I was certain that I was out of sight, I leaned against the wall, keeping the phone pressed to my ear as I continued the conversation with my mum. I carefully pulled down my jeans and underwear just enough to expose my vagina. Holding my phone with one hand, I used my other hand to aim my stream towards the ground.

I felt an immense sense of relief as I began to wee, the clear warm liquid flowing from my body and creating a puddle on the ground. I did my best to maintain a steady stream while discussing the day's events with my mum. However, she suddenly paused and asked, "Ciara, are you... weeing right now?" I tried to play it off, but she could hear the unmistakable sound of my urine splashing on the ground.

Blushing, I sheepishly admitted, "Yes, Mum. I couldn't hold it any longer, so I'm weeing in an alleyway." To my surprise, she laughed and said, “Oh, Ciara, you've always been resourceful. Well, when you've got to go, you've got to go! Just make sure you're careful." I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for her understanding and sense of humor.

As I was weeing in the alleyway, I heard footsteps and talking. I tried to be as quiet as possible, listening to my mum talk,  hoping they wouldn't notice me. A couple walked past the entrance of the alley, deep in conversation. They glanced in my direction, but it seemed like they didn't really register what I was doing or didn’t care. They continued on their way without saying anything, and I breathed out with relief. I glanced over at the food stalls, worried that someone might notice what I was doing. To my relief, it seemed like the food stall vendors and customers were preoccupied with their own business, serving and ordering food. No one appeared to be looking in my direction or seemed to notice that I was weeing in the alley. I felt a bit of relief knowing that I could finish up quickly without drawing any unwanted attention to myself. I must have been far enough down it that most people in the queues couldn’t actually see.

After a while, my bladder was finally empty. With only one hand free, I gave my bum a little shake and I carefully pulled up my jeans and underwear. For the next few minutes I stood next to my puddle in this most recent makeshift toilet and my mum wrapped up the phone call, needing to start her nursing shift. I thanked her for understanding and hurried back to join my friends, who were none the wiser about my little escapade.

 

As we reached the evening, the crowds were starting to thin out. As the evening came to an end, my friends and I were walking out  from the main carnival chatting about the performances and parades we'd enjoyed throughout the day, as we went off to get some dinner. The sun had set, and the streets had grown quieter as we entered a residential area. My bladder had been quietly filling up, and I knew I needed to find a place to wee before it became too urgent.

"Guys, I need to find a place to wee again. Keep an eye out for me, will you?"

"Sure, Ciara, let's find a spot for you.” Fiona replied, as we walked down the streets.

As we continued walking, I came across a small, secluded area between some bushes and the wall of a house. It was far enough from the street and nearby houses to offer some privacy. I quickly made my way over to the spot, with Fiona in tow. At first I presumed she was coming to keep watch for me before she said “Turns out, I could do with a pee actually” she says, laughing afterward.

“The more the merrier!” I chuckled back. Fiona was a tall woman in her late 20s with just below shoulder-length brunette hair and a slim figure. She was wearing a floral dress that accentuated her athletic build.

We quickly ducked in, and went behind the bush. We positioned ourselves with our backs to the wall, side by side and ready to wee. I pulled down my jeans and black lacy knickers, trying to be as quick as possible, while Fiona hiked up her dress and her white thong aside with her hand. As I squatted down, I could hear the sound of Fiona's stream starting, a strong, clear flow that splashed against the ground beneath her. Then my own stream began, a clear watery yet warm spray. It was hitting the ground forcefully, as I was both quite desperate and the flow from out of my labia created quite a wide stream. The sound of our urine hitting the ground mixed with the distant chatter and laughter of my friends.

While weeing together, Fiona said to me, "So, Ciara, how many times have you had to do this today? You're becoming quite the expert!" Looking up from her own stream for a moment and looking at me.

I chuckled and replied, "Honestly, I've lost count! But you know how it is with my condition. I'm just glad I can count on you all for support." I said somewhat drunkenly while looking at her and making eye contact.

Fiona was squatted down with her thick thighs slightly parted, giving way for her stream to flow freely. Fiona's outer labia are slightly fuller than mine, and her inner labia, a shade of light pink, are peeking out a bit. Her pubic hair is trimmed neatly into a small, well-maintained triangle, providing a bit of coverage around her intimate area without obstructing the flow of her urine stream.

As Fiona's urine flows freely onto the ground beside this strangers house, I can see it emerging from her urethra, nestled between her labia. It's fascinating how different yet similar we are in our most intimate areas. The stream appeared clear and forceful, creating a small, glistening arc as it left her body and splashed against the ground. The sight of Fiona's stream was similar to my own. As we both finished up, the sounds of our streams subsided, leaving only the faint trickling noise of the remaining drops. I grabbed some tissues from my bag to wipe and handed some to Fiona, who did the same. We both tossed the used tissues into our puddles and I quickly pulled up my jeans and underwear. Fiona let her thong go back over her vagina and adjusted her dress while we left the secluded area, making sure to check that no one was around before continuing on our way home, grateful for the brief moment of intimate privacy we had found.

We continued our walk home, with my friends sharing their own stories of times they'd been caught short, turning an uncomfortable situation into a bonding experience. It was moments like these that made me truly grateful for the friends I had.

 

As we finally made our way back to my flat after a long and exciting day at Notting Hill carnival, I could feel my bladder filling up once more. With each step closer to my front door, the urgency grew stronger. I knew I was going to need to use the toilet as soon as I stepped inside.

"Guys, I'm going to have to race up to my flat to use the loo. I'm really desperate now," I said to my friends, as they nodded sympathetically, understanding my predicament.

I fumbled with my keys, the pressure in my bladder making it harder to concentrate. Thankfully, I managed to unlock the door just in time. "Go on, Ciara! You can make it!" Sarah shouted encouragingly from behind me to giggles from the rest of my friends.

As I entered my flat, I suddenly had an idea to add a bit of fun to my predicament. Instead of heading straight for the toilet, I decided to use another part of the bathroom.

 

I rushed into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I quickly unzipped my jeans and pulled them down along with my underwear. I glanced around the room and settled on the bathtub as the spot for my impromptu adventure. I stepped in, positioning myself on the edge of the tub facing into it

With a deep breath, I relaxed my muscles and allowed the powerful stream of urine to flow. It splashed against the tub's surface, creating a unique sound as it trickled down the sides. The relief was immediate and immense, as if a weight had been lifted from my body. I couldn't help but giggle at the unconventional situation.

As I finished up and wiped myself clean, I thought about how my medical condition had led me to become more adventurous and open-minded in situations earlier today. It had been challenging at times, but actually I’ve fully embraced the fun side of the whole thing, and got a bit of a thrill from it in the process.

I turned on the shower to rinse the tub, then washed my hands and walked back into the living room to join my friends. We spent the rest of the evening sharing stories and laughter before we all parted ways for the evening.

My name is Ciara, a 28-year-old Irish freelance graphic designer with a spirit of adventure and a love for life's unexpected moments. My long, wavy blonde hair and bright blue eyes often draw people's attention, while my slender figure is a result of my active lifestyle. I have a medical condition that sometimes causes me not to feel the urge to urinate until it becomes quite urgent. Over time, I've not only become adept at finding discreet places to relieve myself outdoors, but I've also come to embrace and enjoy the thrill of it.

One sunny day on vacation, I found myself exploring a bustling outdoor market in Morocco with my close friend, Sarah. The air was filled with the intoxicating scents of exotic spices and the chatter of merchants and shoppers. We both dressed comfortably yet stylishly in loose-fitting linen pants that hugged our curves, colourful blouses that flattered our figures, and pairs of comfortable sandals.

As Sarah and I wandered through the maze of market stalls, admiring the vibrant colours and intricate patterns of the handmade textiles and pottery, I suddenly became aware of an urgent need to urinate. Given my medical condition, I knew I had little time to find a restroom before I risked having an accident.

"Sarah," I whispered, "I need to find a bathroom, like, right now."

Sarah, aware of my condition, immediately sprang into action, helping me search for a restroom. As we frantically looked, I could feel a small amount of urine escaping, dampening my panties. Panicking slightly, I told Sarah, "It's starting to leak. We need to find a place, any place, right now."

Realising that the outdoor market had no facilities available, Sarah spotted a narrow alleyway between two shops. The alley was lined with weathered walls, providing just enough privacy for my urgent situation. "Ciara, over there. I'll keep watch." The alleyway provided privacy in the busy market because it was a narrow space situated between two shops. Its location, away from the main thoroughfare of the market, meant that there were fewer people passing by.

With a mix of anticipation and urgency, dashed into the alley and fumbled with the drawstring of my linen pants, finally managing to pull them down along with my dampened  panties. I squatted down, exposing my clean-shaven and smooth private area and the delicate folds of my labia. Positioning myself, While squatting down, I adjusted the position of my body and hips, ensuring that my urethra was angled towards the wall. This allowed my urine to flow away from my body and against the wall, preventing it from splashing back onto me. As I released my hold on my bladder, I let out a deep sigh of relief, feeling both the pressure in my bladder subside and the exhilaration of my daring act.

My powerful stream of pale yellow urine jetted out of my labia travelling perhaps almost a foot before splashing against the aged wall of the alley and pooling on the cobblestones below. The sound of me weeing was partly drowned out by the distant noise of the bustling market. As I kept weeing hard against the wall, I revelled in the excitement and freedom that came with embracing the challenges of my condition.

While keeping watch, Sarah asked, "Are you okay, Ciara? How are you feeling?"

"Relieved," I replied with a chuckle. "Thanks for having my back, Sarah."

"Always," Sarah said with a smile. "I know it must be challenging."

In the alleyway, the smell was a mixture of scents. The aroma from the bustling market wafted into the alley, carrying the rich scents of exotic spices, grilled meats, and incense. As I relieved myself, I contributed a faintly sharp, ammonia-like odour to the air.

In total, I must have been weeing for about 30 seconds before finally, I finished up and quickly wiped vagina with a tissue. I glanced down at the rather large puddle of urine on the floor and gently tossed the tissue into it, watching it absorb the liquid before it began to sink. I then pulled up my damp panties and smoothed my linen pants back into place. Sarah gave me a reassuring nod, and we cautiously returned to the vibrant atmosphere of the Moroccan market.

My heart continued to race from the close call, and I knew that this Moroccan market adventure would become yet another story to share with my friends, a testament to my daring spirit, and ability to find joy in even the most challenging of circumstances.

Hi Wet Carpet,

I am Marci, a 25 year old blonde-haired woman. Yesterday I was playing a game of tennis with my best friend at the local courts. I was dressed in a white tank top and a pair of black booty shorts, with white sneakers and my hair is tied back in a ponytail. The game is going well and we are both having an enjoyable time, despite the heat. We had been playing for a bit over an hour when I felt an uncomfortable urge to urinate. I know that if I don’t do something soon then I will make a mess on the court! My friend saw me looking around and asked what was wrong.

"Hey Nikki," I said, "I've been pretty desperate for a little while now, do you mind if I go piss in the bushes?" Nikki laughed nodded understandingly and suggested that we take a short pee break before grabbing my racket from me. 

I smiled gratefully and stepped off the court, making my way towards some nearby trees and bushes that had served as makeshift bathrooms before. As I approached, I could see that there was already a puddle or two on or by the trees along with a fair few tissues. I positioned myself in a U shaped group of bushes as I pulled down my booty shorts and underwear to my knees as I point my bum toward the bushes whilst adopting a high squat position. This wasn't my first rodeo and I didn't want to get my feet wet! I sigh as I release a gushing pee that hissed loudly as it passed through my vulva and sprays over the leaves of the bush behind me. The feeling of relief was instant—it had been a while since I'd last gone to the bathroom! The sound of me urinating filled up the air around us as well as its distinct smell—which wasn't all that pleasant but as my own it didn't smell too bad either! I kept my head on swivel, looking around to see if anyone could see me, and back at me to ensure my pee is going where it is meant to.

I must have been pissing for over a minute before my flow dwindled, and my stream hit against some leaves beneath me with a satisfying splash before forming into an ever-growing puddle behind my feet. When finished, I wiped myself with a tissue from my pocket before discarding them into my own puddle and pulling up my shorts. I looked back again to admire the urine dripping off the leaves of the bush like it had been washed with a hose and the puddle that had run from the base of the bush and down the incline towards where I was squatting before heading back onto the court where Nikki waited for me with an amused expression on her face.

"Feel better?" she asked with a smile. "Much!" I replied, relieved to be out of that situation. "Let's continue the game!"

Has anyone ever provided a urine sample but done so in a way that is fun? This is my second story around this type of thing.

 

I had been to the doctor for routine tests, no infections or anything like that and they asked me to provide a urine sample. I left the doctors surgery noting the location of the sample drop-off point and started to walk around the back of the building, looking for a discreet spot to urinate. This surgery had a side street that led onto the small car park where I was parked and was surrounded by bushes. I looked around and noticed the car park was empty apart from 4 other empty cars. I looked around for a camera noticing one pointed towards the cars. That's when I spotted a small, secluded corner behind the building with no windows and made my way over, feeling my heart pounding against my chest, with the tube in my hand.

I pulled down my tights, squatted down and pulled down my knickers to expose my vagina. At this final moment I realised I hadn't removed the cap from the tube, but almost immediately, as if conditioned, urine began to gush out of me and splash over the concrete. I hastily grabbed the sample bottle and held it beneath me whilst trying to control my flow somewhat to ensure that my liquids were captured in it. Whilst I was weeing I watched as the bottle rapidly filled up, my stream splashing against its sides as more and more liquid came out of me. Within a second it was basically full, I ceased urinating Immediately and capped the bottle so as to not wee over the bottle. Once safely in my hand I allowed whatever was left in me to pour out onto the ground below me, opening the floodgates once more over the ground and squeezing to force it out as quick as possible. The smell of my urine permeated the air around me and I could feel small droplets of it splashing up onto my legs as I peed. It felt oddly liberating weeing outside the building like this, knowing that no one could see me in this intimate moment or hear me rather loudly relieving myself over the ground. A frothy and bubbling puddle formed quickly beneath me as I emptied myself completely but quickly before whipping my knickers and tights back up quickly. Finally, after adjusting my clothing again, I walked back in with my sample bottle and made sure not to step in any of the mess I had made before heading back. Luckily I didn't have to mess around pretending to need to use the toilet and then going to reception, I just dropped it off before having to walk over to reception and then left.

Just this morning on the drive to work for a meeting I drove past a nearby retail park with lots of different stores whilst I was pretty desperate for a wee having done a morning workout after just waking up. I was wearing a navy blue blazer and skirt combination  with a white blouse and black tights and black flat shoes. I was now looking for somewhere I could have my second wee of the day. My first being my morning one which was boringly in the toilet.

One of the larger stores was an old DIY store that had been closed permanently for a few months now and was an isolated building by itself. I pulled in and parked in the area. Because nobody is going to go to a closed store, I simply walked behind it, ignoring everyone else going about their business in the other stores. Nobody needs to know why a professional looking woman is going behind the closed store!  When I got behind the store I found an alcove with a door in it. The whole area is surrounded by trees and fence covering it from the main road. The door had a short  2 or 3 metres of ramp going upwards toward the door. I went into the doorway, back against the door, put my hand beneath my navy blue skirt and pulled my tights and black knickers down together as I get into a squatting position at the same time. Looking down at my ginger landing strip and otherwise shaved vagina, I let loose a pretty forceful mildly yellow stream of wee over the ground as it fires past my shoes and onto the concrete. Unleashing the pent up water and coffee from my morning workout. I watch my puddle flow down the ramp and start to build up on the concrete slab outside of the doorway. I can hear in the background the birds chirping in the bushes, and part of a muffled conversation as someone walks past the front of the store, meanwhile I'm letting out a hissing stream of pee splashing over the concrete. After about 15 seconds, I slow to a dribble and pick a tissue out of my blazer pocket. I finish weeing shortly after and wipe my vagina, dropping my tissue into the top of my puddle, admiring my work flowing down the alcove as I pull my tights and knickers back up. The catch to my chosen pee spot is it was unavoidable stepping in my flowing puddle to get out. I fix up my skirt at the entrance before walking back towards the front of the shop and avoiding eye contact with any passers by. Thinking about it, I imagine if someone was paying attention to me entering and leaving, they would guess I had gone for a piss.

When it snowed in December, I decided I simply had to piss on it.

In the morning, I woke up and deliberately didn't go and pee. I was already pretty desperate so I got washed and dressed quickly within about 15 minutes putting on a  thick grey jumper and light blue jeans, with a light pink trainers and coat. Off I get into the car. I drove towards the office in a neighbouring town, where I had a spot in my head at a closed down DIY store. On the way in there's an area I drive through in my own town, with a bunch of apartments and a station on one side and houses and bungalows on the other. There's a spot where the railway bridge and the walI of the bungalow form an alleyway. I've always been curious about this spot because I remember seeing a guy run off into a recess in the wall of the bungalow and it seemed obvious what was going to happen but even when I walked past I couldn't really see anything. I start to think I might be able to have an even naughtier wee here! I park up at the small lot on the right and walk towards the spot. Theres a pavement for people to walk alongside the road and under the bridge but luckily it's a bit quieter this morning. So far, the snow in the alleyway has been barely touched.

I go over to the recessed area, and the snow is untouched! This recess is essentially a diagonal line where the bungalow narrows. On the other end of the alley is the front of another bungalow, and the blinds seem to be drawn. I'm desperate for a wee, especially now I'm in the cold, so I'm just going to do it. I back against the wall and I can't see the walkway or the main road. Perfect! I unbutton my jeans and slide them down along with my black knickers and drop into a squat. I feel the cold air over my pussy, the very short ginger hairs around it, not doing much to keep it warm. There squatted over the street pavement I try to wee. Despite being desperate I feel like I might have chosen quite an open place and can't start. I look left to right over at the other bungalow and the walkway. I look at that the window I've chosen to squat a metre from. It's now or never and I force out a yellow morning pee with a strong hiss as the urine leaves my labia and splashes down onto the snow in front of me. Steam firstly comes off the snow before I notice my stream also has steam coming off it in mid air due to the difference in temperature! Although the snow must have been nearly 6 inches thick, I piss my way through it with a small hole after a few seconds with an unusually high pressure stream. I have a quick look around before then playing with my stream by making a 'pee V' with my fingers. Basically an upside down v shape with two fingers, and placing them each side of your vagina. I pull back and forth for a couple of seconds before going left or right. I might have mistimed this as my stream started to die down, or it might have just been a mistake as I ended up weeing on my fingers spraying my stream left and right. I lift up my hand and shake it a little whilst I let my stream dwindle. I let out one final squirt which sprays an inch or so further than where my stream originally was going. The result of this was that there was a small but slightly expanding hole all the way through to the pavement with a yellow rim, with yellow droplets spattered all around it. You could also see a build up of my piss permeating through from the bottom of the hole and to the rest of the area, making the whole area a lighter yellow. Given what had happened to my fingers already, and having had a very naughty pee, I wipe my pussy with my hand quickly sliding it upwards, shaking it off again and pulling up my jeans and knickers. I walk off quickly, not having had a chance to record myself or take any pictures because I was in quite a public area. I get back into my car, sanitise my hands, and drive to work.

When I go to an actual toilet later on, I can't help but play with myself over the thought of making that yellow snow, and pissing publicly next to that bungalow.

Hello Wet Carpet,

My name is Emma, I’m 29, and work as a sales rep. In case you wanted to know, I’m a half English, half Spanish brunette with shoulder length hair, wear a 34C, have an average to slim build, and wear glasses.

I wanted to write about my relationship with weeing. In particular, weeing places that aren’t down the toilet.

Within my first week properly on the job at my current company, my mentor Maria and I were weeing in a stairwell! Despite being incredibly nervous, it was actually… fun and I found myself enjoying it. I still remember that whole minute where all this urine was just pouring out of me and splattering all over the concrete stairs. How naughty of me!

Afterwards I thought about why I enjoyed it. I guess there’s something about breaking habits we’re brought up with such as using a toilet, unleashing some sort of animal instinct, and even marking territory! I think there’s also the point that to do it, you have to have your vagina out, which isn’t exactly something that happens in public, but then to add to that intimacy, you’re using it to spray urine all over the place. If you’re caught that is quite something for someone to see.

Before this it wasn’t that I was averse to the al-fresco wee. I mean who hasn’t at least once had a bonding experience with their gal pals by weeing in an alleyway. I’m also a keen walker and in nature sometimes you’re just caught short. I had peed outside a total of 5 times before this.

Ever since that time with Maria though, I found myself weeing outdoors more often. I work with our agriculture customers and so it’s natural that most of my time is spent working with customers whose sites are in remote parts of the country, or on industrial parks rather than in built up towns.  I started out in lay-by’s. I would pull up to a lay-by where there was some sort of adjoining field, or woods, or an embankment to walk down. I would go through the gate or over the fence if I was wearing something appropriate and wee in the hedgerows. Sometimes it wasn’t possible to get away from the road, meaning the option to relieve myself was behind a long closed, or long cleaned toilet. I once had a wee behind one of those pulled up vans selling refreshments, but that’s another story.

COVID quickly put a downer on these types of things, but eventually offered a new opportunity, locked toilets and drinking in parks! I could be out with friends or just off for a jog but couldn’t say no to a chance to wee in a bush! Another story I’m going to have to share soon is where at a work drinks in a park that after the toilets were locked up, me, a lovely blonde from HR, and the actual marketing director of the firm had an outdoor wee together after a lot of holding out.

Once things opened up again and our clients were happy for us to visit again, I reverted to my old habits. I have eventually stopped using service station toilets entirely. Even if I go to a service station for a coffee break, I’ll find an alternative place to wee. What I discovered is that there’s commonly bushes and woodlands that surround the building. Here’s the story of a time though, that I discovered that some people take their kids or dog there to stretch their legs…

One day, I was sat in the coffee shop of the services sipping away as I began to feel an inescapable urge in my bladder. I had felt a strong twinge before I pulled in but now it was clear I’d have to pee very soon. With no intention of using a toilet, I finish my coffee and head outside, looking towards the treeline that surrounds the rear and some of the sides of the building. Perfect! I think to myself, I’m wearing a green dress, I’m camouflaged. That day I was wearing a green shirt dress that covers over my hold-up stockings and a pair of flat shoes, today, a pair of black flats with a cross strap.

I walk towards a little opening amongst the trees and find a path that must have been made open over time. I walked through and I see that it leads towards some of the houses that are nearby. I head off a slightly different path to a separate somewhat concealed area more in the woods, covered in wildflowers. Having seen the paths with the coast clear, I waste no time backing up toward the side of this opening and hooking my thumbs around my lacy lavender coloured knickers, as I bend my knees and then pulling them down around them. From there I quickly rush into action, looking down at my vagina and my very short, tight landing strip, dropping into a full squat, rolling forward onto my tiptoes and begin urinating. A strong, and clear stream of wee hisses out of my short but full labia and directly downwards, splashing over the wildflowers. My wee was running off the petals and leaves and dripping onto the forest floor. I quickly bring my right hand towards my landing strip and make an upside down v shape just above and around my vagina, pulling back to take aim, washing down a particularly prominent round purple flower with lots of leaves beneath its petals. This was just a little bit of fun and it keeps my lips from misbehaving and having wee run down my bum. The flower was like it was beneath a storm! I exhale a sigh of relief as the pressure in my bladder disappears and I enjoy my latest public pee. I stop aiming and relax.

There I was squatted down, looking down and having a wee over the wildflowers when what couldn’t have been more than 5 seconds in, suddenly a dog is barking and I hear rustling suggesting people are coming! I stop my flow, and pull everything up despite the wee dripping from my labia. I flatten my dress out, hoping that I won’t be betrayed by a bunch of plants dripping with urine. I take my phone out and pretend to be looking around, like I might be taking photos just as a man, a woman and their dog come into sight. They say hi, and I say it back. Their dog seems very keen to rush towards either me or the flowers (remember what I said about marking territory?) but his owners keep him on his lead and head elsewhere.

I feel relieved, but more about avoiding getting caught than my bladder! I’ve emptied it enough to walk away without being desperate but even then it felt like there was more left in me. I head back to my car with a feeling of dampness in my knickers.

I drive off to meet the client. Given this was a whole three hours later, I was DYING for a wee at this point. Given my refusal to use service station toilets I hadn’t stopped again but I also felt nervous from nearly being caught by members of the public. I was in a dilemma - I’ve gotten so used to weeing outside that I didn’t want to use a toilet on the way, but also felt nervous given what had happened today. I also had half an hour before I would be with the client, and had probably missed the safest spots for a private wee because I was taking calls whilst driving. As I get into the village nearest to where the client meeting would take place, I started to look around at where I can relieve myself as the spots go past in my car…

A driveway near to the gates of a house? Bit of a mean place to leave a big puddle and a lasting smell. People live there and I bet it happens a lot. Not to mention the fact that even if my car conceals me, everyone on the road will know what I’m doing.

A similar driveway that I can pass through to a spa/hotel? There’s so many trees before I see the hotel itself. I can conceal myself behind the big stone sign, or behind the wall that separates the grounds of the hotel from the road. I begin to slow down and turn left to reach the entrance. I start to drive in and pull up a few metres in to the driveway. I hit my hazards and dart out of the car, grabbing my tissues from the glove box on the way. I race over to the wall, concealed from the road completely and start to get into position by backing up into it. Just as I slip down my knickers to my knees and start to lower myself, I notice from the hotel there is a family near their car, either loading it unloading it. I freeze. ‘Can I do this?’ I think to myself. They are rather far into the distance. I drop into a full squat with my vagina out whilst still focussing on this family. I begin to decide that they wouldn’t see anything from over here. Feeling very naughty and very, very desperate, I for a split second think about release and look down. I unleash a gushing spurt of now rather more yellow wee, hissing out and splashing directly down onto the forest floor beneath me. I smelt that curious smell of fresh woodlands combined with the smell of urine. But unfortunately, just a few seconds in, two cars race past on the road. I panic and with a lot of struggle, I stop weeing. The reason I had panicked is because I had rushed this whole thing. Even if that family don’t come up the hotel driveway whilst I’m mid-wee, I’m blocking the driveway and all it takes is one car to want to come in for the spa, for the hotel, or the restaurant or just a quick drink, and they will be confronted with me shamelessly pissing over the grounds. I quickly snatch a tissue out of the pack, wipe myself down and discard it. Stopping has made me just as desperate as I was before, but I quickly get back into the car and reverse out. Hey, at least my knickers are dry! I decide to just get to where I’m meant to be parking and knowing there’s public toilets there, just use those.

I drive for 15 minutes and arrive there, with 20 minutes to spare to walk over. I grab my tissues and rush out of the car to the public toilets in the corner of the car park near to the road. There was a sort of outdoor corridor to the toilets where the wall of the car park and the wall of the toilet building formed one. I quickly walk down the corridor to the door marked ladies as the end and go to open the door, it’s locked! Of course it is. I try the mens and it’s the same problem. I think you see where this is going, I’m going to wee in the corridor. This time though as an alternative to wetting myself, because I had wasted all my chances at finding a toilet by trying to wee on half of England instead!

I dash on over to the entrance to this corridor just to check the coast is clear. There’s very few cars parked up and nobody about. I go back in and head over to the back of the corridor where there is a nice wall and the door to the ladies adjacent to it. I back myself into the corner between the door and the wall and with both hands whip down my knickers whilst getting into a squat still holding my tissues. With my lacy lavender knickers around my knees I am still shuffling around to get into position properly when I unleash a showering of wee almost involuntarily, hissing out of my labia and splashing down over the concrete floor. The splash back lands on my feet and shoes, I can even feel it through my stockings but I simply cannot stop, so I shuffle them out of the way as I deepen my squat and lean forward onto my tip toes. I deeply exhale as several hours of coffee, water, and desperation flow out of me and both the hiss and splash of me pissing brings the silent corridor alive. God it feels good. Again I quickly bring my right hand towards my landing strip and make an upside down v shape just above and around my vagina, pulling back to help my stream clear more ground before landing on the concrete as the puddle was quickly forming around my feet. My shoes are covered with little droplets by this point but I don’t care. With my labia behaving properly I twist my hips left and right and using my fingers to aim my stream left and right a bit for fun for a few seconds just to cover the concrete around me.

My stream is quite yellow. Not as much as a morning pee but given how long I’ve been holding I’m not surprised. My puddle starts to saturate the corner I’m squatting in and the splashing sound changes from one of pee hitting concrete, to pee hitting pee, sounding more watery. A small stream starts to run down the corridor and goes well past the door to the mens toilet. Speaking of toilets, at this point the corridor starts to smell like one. I wonder whether that’s just because of me or because people have peed down here in the past. I hear a car drive past, staying on the road, not coming into the car park. I’m fully concealed behind a wall. I was thinking to myself how good of a pee spot this is.

I must have been weeing for over 30 seconds, and I still felt I could keep going a bit longer. I hear another car drive past, and again not enter the carpark, and so I keep weeing. It must have been the noise from the car that was responsible for this next bit, as I suddenly hear footsteps literally around the corner and thinking very quickly, I attempt to cut off my stream and throw my dress over my knees with one hand and grab at my knickers with the other, just as I hear a woman say.

“Oh god Em, sorry!”

I look up and see a member of my team, Alex standing at the front of the corridor  just as I feel the last droplets of urine leave my urethra and drip into my puddle. Alex is a short black woman with shoulder length hair and an hourglass figure. She was wearing some smart khaki trousers and a white blouse.

After our eyes meet she then abruptly looks away I froze to think about what I need to do next, still squatted over the floor with my knickers around my thigh but I reply hastily.

“Alex, I’m so sorry, I was going to wet myself and the toilets are locked!”

Just as I start to stand up and reach for my knickers, Alex replies.

“No, no it’s fine. Honestly, finish up and I’ll wait.”

I hesitate. “Are you sure?” I say as I crouch back down.

“Honestly Em, it’s better than wetting yourself. I got here earlier needing the loo, and I just went looking for one and can’t find anything. I got back here and thought I heard the taps running and that it was open again.” Alex then bursts into a giggle as I feel even more flushed. “But it was you washing the floor”. And then turns around.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe this. It’s a nightmare. But I do still need to go” I say as I pull my dress back out of the way and look down at my vagina then the massive puddle around me.

“Go!” She replies as she turns her head back around momentarily..

After a couple of seconds of looking looking at my dampened labia and the droplets over my shoes, I resume weeing over the concrete, in a more steady stream than before in a weird mix of both shock and comfort. I had worked with Alex with this customer and other ones, and knew she would be at the meeting, but I never expected this. I didn’t realise she had arrived yet or that she would be parking up here, yet now I was now publicly urinating in her presence. Even if she couldn’t see me, she had heard me before and is definitely hearing me again. She didn’t say anything and the only sound I was hearing was me peeing. I had to break the ‘silence’.

“Didn’t you say you needed to go still?” I say whilst my stream starts to dwindle, and then letting out a harder squirt over the concrete. I have to admit I was starting to enjoy this…

“I do! But I’ll have to wait.” She says as I let out two final squirts and the last of my wee drips off my labia.

“Just go here, I’m finished now so I’ll keep watch.” I say as I grab a tissue out of the packet and wipe down my vagina before quickly wiping my shoes too.

“I don’t think I can. It’s not that I have a problem that you have, power to you if anything! I just can’t go here.”

I drop the tissue into my puddle and stand up whilst getting my knickers back into place. “Look, it wasn’t great that I got caught weeing on the floor, but I was going to burst, and it sounds like you’re going to as well. I can make sure nobody catches you at least. It’s the least I can do and it will be easy for me to see if someone is coming. Nobody can see you in here and you shouldn’t have to suffer, or worse.

Alex hesitated for a couple of moments before walking into the now urine soaked corridor.

“I do really have to go”

“You don’t have to convince me Alex. I’ll keep watch and you can just go. You’re going to feel soo much better in a second.”

We trade places with Alex starting to walk into the corridor but just stopping short of the massive puddle I’ve left behind and is still rolling towards her. She stands over the floor of the mens with her back to the door and looks down and around.

“I guess a little more won’t hurt. You’ve already made a mess!” She says chuckling.

“Hey, I had to.” I say as Alex begins to pull down Khaki pants to her knees and shows her beautiful and quite muscular ebony legs, before then getting her white thong from around her waist and over to her knees also. “Coast is clear!” I say as I peer over the corner to see if anyone is coming.

There’s a moment of silence for a good 5 or maybe even 10 seconds. I look over to Alex almost to see if she is okay and see her looking down, and following her eyes I end up catching a glimpse of her vagina. Noticing she is fully shaven and has virtually no labia, but more of a ‘peach’, at least from what I could glimpse. Less than a second after I had looked over, suddenly a forceful, yellow, beam like stream emanates from her and sprays over the hard concrete splashing up and landing on the ground. I look outside of the corridor and ensure the coast is still clear. I look over again as I hear her burst out laughing.

“God, I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’ve only ever used a toilet, apart from one time when I was really drunk and lost on the way home.”

I was quite excited about this whole experience and didn’t know what to make of it. I’m straight, but I was quite comfortable weeing in front of her and enjoying watching her wee over the concrete immensely.

“It’s happened a few times here.” I say as I get a tissue out of the pack and lean over to give her one. At this point I can’t escape catching an eyeful of Alex spraying her urine over the concrete, her blouse poorly concealing her vagina as her yellow stream.

“Thanks babe. I mean you’re definitely prepared for the occasion!”

“Think of it this way. If we’re travelling all across the country and you’re catching all these lorry drivers and delivery drivers weeing up a bush, don’t we have the same needs? Being able to hold it doesn’t make it a good thing to hold it.” Just before I go over to the corner to check again I notice that her cute black court shoes and the top of her feet are covered in her pee. I guess despite it going out further than my own it was a more concentrated, forceful pee.

“No you defo have a point. I’m feeling a lot better.”

I go over to check we’re still clear, and we are. After a few more seconds, Alex’s stream suddenly stops, rather than dies down. Maybe she’s finished, I think to myself or maybe she’s let enough out. Either way, there’s a lot of pee on the floor and a good amount of it is hers. I take a look again as she wipes her vagina with the tissue and looks around a bit before deciding to drop it in her puddle. I decide not to say about her shoes, though I do wonder why she didn’t try and clean them. She either didn’t notice, or didn’t want to clean them in front of me and admit she splashed herself. She starts to come out of her squat and fix up her trousers.

“God I feel so much better now.” Alex says as she makes her post wee adjustments to her trousers. “But listen, let’s not talk about this, yeah?”

“Of course!” I reply. “You caught me weeing in the street, I’m not going to say anything. I’m your manager, you’re never meant to see me like that.”

“Yeah the kind of manager who offers me a tissue when I do the same”. She bursts out laughing and I do too. “Moving swiftly on, shall we head over?”

“Lets!” I say as Alex steps out of her puddle of wee and back towards me.

Note from the writer: I submitted this rather long letter in summer when the main story happened, and was told recently that it would be included later on due to its length. The editor also asked if I would include a photo. I don’t want to lose my job but I definitely enjoyed the idea, and also taking the photo itself 😉

Here’s a photo of me weeing over a parking garage taken especially for this. Had to prop my phone on the dash and video the whole thing to get this. I must admit I get quite excited playing the clip back especially as I try a slightly different squat.

Note from the editor: It looks like two of our writers may actually know each other! So I’ve joined the older story to this one. Feel free to draw your own conclusions. 

 

Here's a post I shared in chat back in summer when I went to a pretty wild street festival. There were different venues, music performers in the streets, almost like a carnival vibe.

I was at this festival, it was getting quite late but still bright and sunny and just out in the middle of the street, where everyone was listening to a DJ, and dancing etc, two women, one short and curvy white woman with shoulder length brown hair, followed by a taller, slim brown woman with long mahogany hair running down her back rushed in front of two large trash bins and just started to squat down, about two metres from me.

I was incredibly excited and decided I had to act fast so I just looked at them and said 'I think you have the right idea, hope you don't mind another' and backed myself against the bin and started unfastening my white jeans. As I was getting into position the short one furthest away said in a Northern(?) Irish accent "Ah of course, you know, who cares now everyone is wasted now and the toilets (they were portaloos by the way) are a fucking mess" and she began peeing. One thing I noticed was her clear pee stream hitting the nearby curb before dying down. As I started my own stream the woman closest to me looked over and flashed me a smile which I did back and then she began peeing which I caught a nice glimpse of her brown, very small lipped pussy with a beam of yellow tinged pee flowing out of it. She then turned to face her friend, the one who had spoken to me so I look away and back down at my own very short trimmed ginger pussy gushing out a clear stream over the floor.

I don't really know what was they were talking about because the music was so loud, which also meant I couldn't hear the hissing and splashing of three women relieving themselves over the road. I open my handbag and fetch out a pack of pocket tissues and open it up. Once their conversation pauses, I say.

"Need a tissue girls?" offering them the pack.

"You legend, thank you" says the one furthest from me.

"Aww thank you" says the one closest to me in a posh English accent and pulls out two tissues, handing one to her friend.

This was such a public space, even for me, and the two girls I had actually came with today just looked at me slightly surprised but slightly not and then focussed back on the music. While we were all peeing I couldn't help but notice members of the crowd glance over and then look away, before a guy walked past and cheered with a big whoop and went past carrying on with his evening.

The one who started first furthest from me finished first and I do shortly after, leaving our friend in the middle still in full flow whilst we are wiping ourselves. Just as I finish wiping and drop my tissue into the converged and expanding puddle of three women's piss, the one still going says something to both of us.

"Honestly I've been holding this for so long after how traumatic the inside of the last portaloo was. I honestly though I'd be able to wait until we left and find a proper toilet on the way home."

"Not a chance!" I say as I lean forward and pull up my knickers and jeans together and stand up looking down at her as she still pees. By this point her friend was back up too and listening to me respond "I had been using them tonight but I've always waited until I had to use them and the queues were down. Maybe I won't bother next time..."

We all laugh and finally she had finished peeing, wipes herself, and drops the tissue before pulling her knickers up and flattening out her dress.

"Maybe see you behind the portaloos later then." Said the Northern Irish one with a smirk.

I didn't see them again in the end, and I didn't pee anywhere quite so brazenly the rest of the night, but I did avoid using the portaloos. The first time I needed to go again my friends were queuing for the toilets in one of the bars and before going to order drinks, I went to the side of the bar, past the metal fence that had been set up and already untied and moved out of the way, placed it back over and relieved myself in the alley between the two buildings. A nice private wee next to the fire exit among the existing puddles and stained walls. Of course I wiped and dropped then after I went back in and acted like I hadn't just urinated on their floor, my friends were still nowhere to be seen for another 5 minutes or so whilst I got the drinks in.

The last one was on the way home. Walking to the opposite side of town to catch the last train, and remembering the insane queues at the station before, I decided I was best off having an al fresco wee. About half way through the walk I spotted a place that would work. A poorly lit walkway to the carpark for a block of flats.

"Sorry, I need a wee, I'll catch up" I said to my friends, and I think they just responded with a chuckle as I jogged over to the driveway. The car park and the driveway was well lit so I stayed near the door where the bin was, looked up to the flats to see if I could be seen, before quickly whipping down my jeans, squatting and beginning urinating in quick succession. It was dark but public so I remember rushing to empty my bladder making quite a noisy pee as it pooled around the door to the car park. Quick wipe and drop before rushing my clothes back on and jogging to catch up with my friends. 

8 hours ago, arigalo said:

What an interesting question! 

I can say personally that when I pee outside I tend to have a few different places I rotate between, but it’s less out of a desire to go in the same place all the time and more out of me knowing that a particular spot is well-covered, doesn’t have cameras, etc. I’d assume that many people have their “regular” spots just like me, but also will use other places. 

Now if, as per your question, there weren’t any toilets around EVER, I think people might have a designated pee spot in their backyard/home if only to minimize cleanup and smell issues. But it might be a bit of the same deal as me—if you’re out and about you probably know of some safe spots but would also be open to going someplace else. 

I think its the same for me really. When I'm weeing outside I have several places I know I can go which are 'safe to go' but generally speaking there's something to enjoy about them too, so there's usually not a lack of desire to go there. Theres a road I often have to drive down for work, where I know there is a place to pull up, enter a field, and pee under the same tree. I get to see the hills and be fully concealed whilst I wee. I've completely lost count of how many times I've been there but I'm still completely undisturbed.

I town there's also a parking area surrounded by the back end of some shops which has an alleyway as the only way to get there. I love to wee down there one the way home from a night out or if I'm passing by. It's a bit naughtier and riskier but again still quite concealed with the main risk being people might see out of a window. It's nice to have a street pee location. I still remember one time in broad daylight I saw one woman in workout gear come out of that alleyway and adjusting her leggings as she came out. I have no idea if she had peed down there too or just parked up but we can imagine. 

In the local park there's also a few places, mostly in the woods that I like to enjoy a wee, especially if I'm out running.

Equally these are all far from the only places I go and whether travelling, running/cycling or drinking I'm up for weeing in a lot of places even if I'm somewhere less familiar.

 

I guess in the past people had to just pee by the side of the road a lot of the time, as needed. I remember reading a victorian erotic journal which documented a lot of pee experiences, and oftentimes there were regular spots you could find women squatting and weeing in an alleyway, or over drains, or in the churchyard between the mausoleums. So I guess people had to dig out these spots. So a bit of both I guess.

23 hours ago, Gin said:

I feel like Eastern Europe is more relaxed in terms of public peeing. Men urinating in public is not an unusual view here. In my country you can only get a small fine (or maybe nothing at all if you're a female) for such actions unless you try to put a show. Especially in rural areas people tend to have a very chill attitude to peeing in public, sometimes even in front of each other. Obviously, all the people do not have the same view on it, but seeing someone relieve themselves without a particularly great hide isn't a shock to most of them.

 

I might digress a little but I've always wondered how do they film those extreme public pissing videos. Is it at least partially staged or do they really not care?

I have noticed the same. I spent some time in the Czech Republic for work a couple of months ago and on the way to my hotel I noticed puddles in the car park of a bar with a tissue in the middle. I was only there for a week but I noticed that it's very common widely, rather than just specific areas. If I actually sit down and finish some of my recent experiences (and I'm almost finished with fiction ones), I will have to include the story of my own urination contribution to the city of Prague...

I drop it in the puddle usually. Occasionally I've just ended up throwing it from where I'm squatted and sometimes I don't use one as it depends on whether I have my bag with me at the time. Here's one from a park a little under a year ago.