Country Man

I had a nice late night experience of someone waiting for a train, previously posted here.

http://watchgirlspeeing.com/threads/subway-piss.2154/#post-19146

Around dusk this evening I was doing some work at an apartment building. Coming out from the back courtyard, I heard the lovely sound of splattering, and saw these cute little round buttcheeks squatting up against the courtyard gate and pissing like mad. I had a few second glimpse, and she obviously heard me walking towards her, because she stood up, pulled her pants up, and ran like mad to the street where she hopped into a white SUV. Strangely enough the SUV remained parked there for a few minutes after her little escapade.

The results were very impressive.

Under normal circumstances, I agree about slow motion. There are cases when it does work and those are where the pee is either short or hard to notice. Examples would be someone peeing in a swim suit at the beach...

Right on target.

There might be a few others, for artistic purposes, like a gigantic pee fountain. But mostly I'm interested in the real-time experience.

This is mostly not a sighting, but a sounding. I hope you will enjoy it anyway.

When I went to college, the school had only recently started offering coed dorm floors. To do so, they took the single same-sex bathroom and just put a divider down the middle, not even floor to ceiling, but about what you'd have separating toilet stalls, making what were (almost) coed bathrooms.

Late one night I was in one of the toilet stalls on the mens' side, when I heard a commotion on the womens' side. The door slammed open, and two girls rushed in. They rushed to the stalls, swung the doors open, and entered.

Then I heard something that really caught my attention: the sound of a large volume of liquid splattering onto the tile floor.

One of them said, "What the fuck are you doing?" and they other said "I couldn't hold it, I really couldn't!" Their voices identified them as two of the girls on the other side of the floor who had a reputation for hard partying (not that they were unique in the milieu of the time). The one that had just pissed herself, Donna, was tall, dark-haired, and plus-sized.

I tried to keep as quiet as possible, but I ducked down to look underneath the partition. I could see Donna's bare feet and ankles and the bottom of, I kid you not, a nightgown, standing next to a puddle on the tile in front of the toilet. Her roommate, whose name I don't remember, was closer to me with her pyjama bottoms around her ankles as she sat on the bowl.

Donna walked over to the sinks and I watched her use paper towels to blot off her feet, and then they both ran out as quickly as they could so they wouldn't be discovered. Leaving me with an incredible moment and their little secret.

Glad to be aboard, and I hope to contribute as I am able. That's a lot easier when there are other like-minds in the same place.

Great job with the site.

This is inspired by one of the first sexual wetting stories I encountered.

=== Part 2 ===

I was out on a date with Patty. We had been out drinking and closed down the bars. We made out a little in the car and I was hoping to get lucky. I was driving her home (what can I say, it was the 70s and things were different then). Along the way Pat told me, “You gotta find a bathroom, I need to pee.” Her place was only another 20 minutes away, so she must have really had to go.

I started looking, but the problem with closing down the bars was that nothing else was really open. We kept riding around looking for a place where she could piss, without any luck. Patty kept urging me to hurry, saying she had to go. I did, worried we might get stopped by the cops. She was rocking back and forth, telling me I had to find something, she was about to wet herself.

I was incredibly turned on by her desperate state, but trying my best to avoid an accident. Either kind.

Patty was holding herself and nearly frantic when I finally found a gas station / convenience store that was still open.

I parked and Patty ran out of the car into the store. I followed behind to find her arguing with the attendant, a pimply teenager. Apparently they locked the bathrooms after a certain hour and would not let customers use them due to crime.

Patty had her hand in her crotch and was jumping around like she was about to lose it. "Open the damn bathroom!," she told him. "I'm about to have an accident!"

When he said no, he wasn't allowed to do that, she turned to me with a tortured look on her face, almost whimpering as she looked at me and said, "Please help me..."

But it was too late. Before I could say or do anything, Patty froze, said "Oh, shit!", and began peeing herself. All I could do was watch, amazed, just as helpless as she was, as first the crotch and then the inside legs of her jeans darkened as the piss poured out of her, totally uncontrolled.

I was transfixed at the sight, and drank in every detail. Patty had stopped her struggle and just stood there until she was finished, looking back and forth between me, the wetness she was making, and the dweeb behind the counter.

Most of the night's beer was now in her pants or on the floor. I think we were all shocked, but I had a boner that threatened to burst my jeans. I turned to the clerk. "That's what you get for being an asshole! Enjoy cleaning all the piss."

I put my arm around Patty and walked her to the car. She was stunned and clearly ashamed of what had happened. “I am so sorry,” she said.

I told her not to worry, it was no problem, it was that asshole clerk and stupid store. (Although I'm not sure she would have made it even if the clerk unlocked the ladies room.) I hugged her and said “Let's get out of here and get you home.” And I proceeded to sit her wet ass right down in the passenger's seat,not caring about my upholstery, only about getting her home and about me getting into those alluring wet pants.

=== End of Part 1 ===

There's a certain logical ending right here for the female wetting fetishist. However, I want to continue on to the next stage...

=== Part 2 ===

Patty was kind of upset about the whole thing, and I was worried she'd just want me to drop her off. So along the way I told her how I'd really enjoyed the evening, how pretty she was. Several blocks away from her place, I stopped the car. I put my arm around her again, pulled her close, and began to kiss her.

Patty just relaxed into my kisses. When my hand started to explore her pants, she tried to say no and push it away, but I told her it didn't matter, I wanted her, and a little accident didn't matter at all. Here's where the alcohol really helped, I think.

She let me rub her through her wet jeans, and I knew I was golden. A quick drive to her place, and I followed her luscious wet ass through her front door. Once inside, I grabbed her. More kissing, shirts started coming off, and I held her close, her nipples pressing against my chest.

“We've got to get you out of those wet clothes,” I said. Patty loosened her jeans, and as they slid down here legs I dropped to my knees and started kissing her piss-wet pubes. She tried to pull away, and I said, “Baby, it's alright, I love every bit of you.” The aroma of her urine filled my nose as I buried it in her curly brown bush, and was soon joined by the salty-tang from her sweet pussy.

She grabbed me by the hair and said, “Hold on, I've gotta get into the shower.” She stepped out of her wet jeans and I followed her into the bathroom.

By this time, I had to piss. “Uh, Patty, this might be a sensitive subject, but I really need a piss. Do you mind?”

An evil look came into her eyes. “If you had found me a toilet, I wouldn't have had to go through all that,” she said. “Tell you what. We'll be even if you go in your pants. That way you'll never, ever tell anybody about tonight.”

I was shocked, but very horny. I thought about it about 5 seconds and said what the heck. Easier said than done with my raging hardon, but mind over matter (and drunk horny brain over toilet-trained brain), and I was able to squeeze out a little bit, enough to make a small wet spot on my jeans.

“Not good enough, sailor,” Patty told me. “You've got to piss yourself proper.” Her licking my nipples did not help, as she shoved me into the bathtub. Eventually though, the pressure won out, and I relaxed enough to pee a bit more, and a bit more, and as my underwear got wetter, it felt better, until I was able to let go and soak my pants nearly as well as Patty had.

Now it was her turn to stick her hands down into my wet pants. I was instantly hard again, and so turned on, she barely had to touch me before I spurted my thick goo all over her hands and my sodden underwear. Now it was my turn to apologize. “I'm so sorry, baby, I just couldn't wait.”

I shamefacedly let my pants drop to the floor and stood naked before her. “That's ok, honey, accidents happen,” she grinned back at me.

We let the shower run over us, while we washed each other's bodies. I remember the warm, slippery feel of her tits as I made sure they were nice and clean, and the water cascading over my head as I knelt and my tongue made sure her pussy was equally attended to. We went dripping from there to her bed. Where we fucked each other's brains out, and then fell asleep together.

The kicker is, we woke up in the morning in a wet bed, and neither of us was sure who'd done it.

=== End ===

As a fan of desperation AND wetting, I do both. Of course not every hold results in a wetting. Seldom do I hold to the bitter end. It's freakin' hard for one thing, painful for another, and takes a lot of time. In the ordinary week, though, there are plenty of occasions to enjoy the feelings of being full and finding release without the agony of holding until you burst.

I don't know that a single word really encompasses it. You can be into the humiliation and get a tremendous erotic thrill out of it. And you can enjoy it for the physical sensations, but also be turned on by the dirty, illicit nature. There is something wrong about getting peed on, and that seems to be a big part of the fun for most.

All the same, the degradation versions of golden showers don't really work for me.

OK, I will disclose. I am male and have occasionally assumed a female persona, usually to write/post stories, but sometimes in chat. I haven't done this for a while (except in writing fiction), and have never gone deep into any relationship with a false persona - but there it is.

I assume there are more who have done the same. How many?

My own personal view is that I don't care what stories come to me as long as they are hot and seem real, or real enough. The person writing can be a pervy old guy pretending to be an innocent 18 year old girl, and if they can pull it off, no harm to me. If an 18 year old guy can convince me he's a loose-bladdered cougar, well, that sounds like a good time.

$69.50. No drinking.

Count me in. I find desperation and wetting very arousing and have since I was young. I don't do it all that often in clothes, but in the shower will often pee down my legs.

I recently wrote about my very first experiments when I was a teenager...

The big problem was laundry. I did not do it, and something had to happen to the evidence. Old clothes were the answer. I picked out an pair of pants that I could barely squeeze into. I picked a day when I'd have the house to myself. I arrived home from school with a full bladder. I put on the old pants, and walked around the house having a debate with myself if I should or not. I took them off. I got more desperate and put them on again. I walked through the house aching to pee and afraid to take the final step. Finally I climbed into the bathtub. Even though I was dancing, I just could not let go. Until I did. It felt weird, and when I was finished I felt disgusted. I buried the pants in the woods. (I actually think it took me several days of attempts before I was ready.)

Disgusted or not, I wound up tried it again. And eventually again.

It is much more fun, though, doing it with a partner. ;-)

Let me just say a quick hello. I've been a pee fan for more than 40 years, and online since the early days of Patches Place, Thomas, and deskfish. I've met a lot of good folks online and have my share of real world experiences, plus a vivid imagination.

The one thing I have been most disappointed with over the years is the way the eroticism and story-telling of the early days has resulted in the near demise of wetting/pee bulletin boards as they have devolved into flame wars, "me too" posts, and lists of youtube links.

Thankfully there are some currently working exceptions, and I hope that this site remains one of them!

Don

Very nice story! Of course I'm biased, but I think a woman squatting to piss on the ground is a very attractive sight.

$75, nearly perfect!

I think that I shall never see

Liquid so lovely as your pee;

A pee that hides in dark all day

'Til from its orb comes forth to play;

A pee that may in Summer teach

The joy of pissing at the beach;

And during Winter's chilly shiver

Stays hid until the desperate quiver;

Your lover's thirsty mouth doth dream

Of thy sweet amber flowing stream;

On my bosom it makes rain

As warm drops from your kitty drain;

Poems are made by fools like me

But only you bathe me with pee.

With sincere apologies to Joyce Kilmer

There are LOTS of little things. Of course, many of them are pee-related.

But one thing that came to mind is tan lines. You don't see them so much these days, but the outline of a creamy white skin bikini on an otherwise tanned torso is something I find pretty hot.

Interested at a young age, but then REALLY interested as a teenager. I found that thoughts of desperation and wetting really turned me on whenever I encountered them. If I cam across a passage in a book, I would reread and memorize it. Incidents in real life would live on in fantasy. Letters in Club Magazine and Nancy Friday's book Men in Love let me know there were others with the same interest.

I remember it so well. I had gradually been letting my gf know that I was interested in peeing.

She'd let me watch her in the bathroom, and on two occasions I had been massively aroused by her outdoor squats. One was in the dust by the side of the road. The other she left a large puddle next to the car in the parking lot. On that occasion we were making out when she announced her need for a piss, so we were both already aroused. When she got back in the car, it was extra good.

On this day we were at the beach and had been drinking wine coolers (does anybody remember wine coolers?).

The bathrooms were not close by and I wanted to see what would happen when nature took its course. I thought the best case scenario would be to pee together in the water, or if I was really lucky to get her to pee through her suit into the sand.

The beach was not very crowded, and it was nearing the end of the day, but we weren't ready to leave yet when she announced, "I really have to take a piss."

"Uh huh," I replied (eloquent as always).

"But I am not going to all the way to the boardwalk just to pee and have to walk back again. We could just go in the water," she said. "Everybody does it."

"Right," I replied, and then as she started to get up, the alcohol took over. I grabbed her hand, and pulled her back to me and kissed her. "Or, you could do it right here." I scooted off the beach towel and guided her to sit on my crotch.

"No one will know what you're doing, except me," I nervously smiled at her. "And I'd love it."

And, to my great surprise, she did it. She was a little shocked, but didn't take much convincing beyond some more passionate kissing and the feel of my throbbing erection through my bathing suit. She looked around to see if anyone was watching, and it took her a moment or two to relax, but when she started I felt the first warm spurts wet my shorts, and she whispered, "I'm doing it!"

She had a dirty smile on her face as she relaxed into it and let it flow, completely soaking me. I heard the hiss, and saw some of the piss puddle momentarily in our joined crotches before running down the sides of my legs and into the sand. She gave me a few grinds as she was finishing, and so help me I came in my pants.

"You are so f'ing dirty," she smiled at me. "You too, babe," I gasped. "You, too."

Not counting this morning, my wife on the toilet, or other wife stories, it was last fall.

I was in an office at night, 9 or 10 o'clock. I was at a window which overlooked both a street and a parking lot. I saw two young women coming down the street from the nearby bar area. They turned into the parking lot and found the first space which was between cars, nervously looking around to see if anyone was in sight.

First one, and then the other proceeded to drop their trousers and squat on the pavement, each one looking out while the other peed. Not a closeup view, but I could could see the puddles grow on the concrete as they did their business, pulled up their pants, and then hurried back to continue their walk.

Hi. Great site, I am surprised I haven't seen it before.

I found it through a google search for "peed in her jeans", one of my favorite things to witness.

https://www.google.com/search?as_q=&as_epq=peed in her jeans&as_oq=&as_eq=&as_nlo=&as_nhi=&lr=&cr=&as_qdr=all&as_sitesearch=&as_occt=any&safe=images&tbs=&as_filetype=&as_rights=#as_qdr=all&lr=&q="peed in her jeans"&start=10

On page 2 of the results was a link to http://watchgirlspeeing.com/threads/collected.544.