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Dear Wet Carpet,

I have hesitated writing to you until my daughter went off to college out of risk of someone finding out who I am and embarrassing her. I think it's safe now, though.

When my story is finished, you may think our family strange, and you may judge us, but we've been at this long enough that it won't matter much to me what anyone says.

We are nudists. Well, part time, at least. Our house is located on a hill away from other houses and we have a fenced in yard. Of course, when we go out we wear clothes and we always keep clothes close by in case someone drops by for a visit. But around the house, my husband and I and our daughter are rarely dressed. Like many nudists, we are comfortable with our bodies and we believe that the naked body is not simply a sex object, but also a beautiful creation meant to be seen. Plus, it feels great to move about without the restriction of clothing.

After our daughter left, though, something new happened. My husband and I were sitting nude together on the couch in the front room watching a movie. About an hour into the movie, I had to pee, so I started to sit up.

"Where are you going?" my husband asked.


"Oh, come on, you're comfortable." I had been leaning back on him, his arms across my breasts. I could occasionally feel his penis throb against my lower back.

"I really have to pee." I tried to sit up again but he tugged me down again and wrapped his arms around me. "What do you want me to do, pee here on the couch?"

"If that's what you want to do," he said. As he said this, I could feel his penis grow. And I must admit the thought of just laying there in his arms, relaxing, and just peeing right there excited me. My husband was stronger than me, anyway, so if he really wanted he could hold me there. But he didn't have to. I leaned back and got comfortable again, continued watching the movie, until I felt like I couldn't hold it anymore.

"I'm going to pee," I said. I felt his penis throb again. "I can't hold it anymore." I leaned back a little more, pressing my body close to him, relaxed, and released my bladder.

A strong stream sprayed out of me and splashed against my thighs and soaked the couch cushion. I could feel it get warm under my bottom and I licked my lips, sighing to show my relief and pleasure. As I peed, my husband surprised me and reached his hand to my vagina, stroking my clitoris gently.

"Oh, honey, that's so hot," he said as he continued to touch me. He scooted back a little and I leaned back more, allowing him closer access to my wet vagina. "Watching you go, though... now I have to go."

"Just go," I said. After saying this, I felt something warm and wet against my lower back and more wetness under my bottom, and I knew he was peeing.

As soon as he finished, I lifted myself up just enough to be over his now very erect penis and he entered me quickly and easily. After just a few seconds of wriggling my hips, we both climaxed and I scooted off of him and lay back against his chest again as we finished the movie.

This all started a new facet to our nudity. No need to use the bathroom. I will often stand in the middle of the front room and just pee down my legs to the carpet. My husband loves to sit in his chair and just squirt a jet of pee, soaking his lap and the chair. At night if we wake up with the need to pee, we just let go in the bed. And, of course, pee has become a regular part of our sex life now.

As I type this, my husband just walked into the room. He knows what I'm writing and he's smiling. I have to pee and he just told me to let it go right in the computer chair. He just said he's going to pee on the floor. I can hear him peeing from the couch to the carpet behind me and I'm not going to be able to hold it much longer. I'm spreading my legs right now and I can't believe I'm about to pee while I write to you. Ohh, I can't hold it. Mmm. It feels amazing splashing out of me. Ohhh, that feels so good. I'm putting my legs together now and still peeing into the cushion. It's so warm under my bottom.

My husband just called me away from the computer. I know what he wants. I hope you enjoyed my letter.

With love,


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Dear Wet Carpet Magazine,

After six months of doing the job that I’ve written about already, I moved onto a new project. This one involved managing the installation of cabling and networks into a client’s offices. Sometimes it was just a few changes to existing systems, other times it was a complete office refurbishment, but it often provided some opportunities to indulge in my pee fun whilst I was traveling to the various sites.

One time in particular sticks in my mind. I was asked to attend a meeting to discuss a new cabling solution in a new build office. I had my usual breakfast including coffee and juice, then I drove about an hour to the new office. When I got there, I found that it was a building site. I knew it was going to be pretty basic, so I’d worn work trousers and boots, but I hadn’t realised that they would still be building the walls of the building. They had asked us to get involved early to make sure the cabling containment and ducting was sized adequately. The site office was a portacabin, which exuded a welcoming warmth as I entered the door. The client’s manager welcomed me with a mug of builder’s tea – which I didn’t decline. The meeting went well and I was then informed that we’d have a break for another mug of tea, then go for a look round the site to inspect the work so far. I excused myself briefly and asked where the toilets were. The site contractor directed my to some portaloos at the end of the car park.

I headed over to the loos, but on opening the first one, I immediately recoiled and decided that wasn’t something I was going to entertain in a hurry. I looked furtively around and spotted a large lorry parked at the side of the car park and decided that the best option would be to quickly nip behind it for some rapid relief. I checked over my shoulder that nobody was looking and walked casually behind the lorry, approaching from the back. As I drew level with the rear wheels, I turned so that I could see if anyone appeared in the car park, then slipped down my trousers and squatted down in the mud. I was a bit nervy, so I peed quickly with high pressure, my pee forming a frothy puddle in the mud. As I finished, I glanced over my shoulder and I suddenly realised that in the large door mirror of the lorry, I could see a face looking straight at me! The driver was casually sitting in his cab, totally enjoying the view! Well, too late now, I finished what I was doing, then I thought that seeing as he was enjoying the show, I might as well give him something to remember. I didn’t know whether he had realised that I had clocked him, but I took a tissue from my pocket, stood up slowly and wiped myself more thoroughly than strictly necessary, then wiggled provocatively as I pulled up first my knickers, then my trousers. I glanced over my shoulder and saw a big smirk on the driver’s face. I walked back around the lorry and passed the open driver’s window, whereupon I tossed the used tissue through the window at him as I walked passed, turned briefly and blew him a kiss.

I then walked quickly and deliberately towards the portacabin to resume the meeting.

Nicola xxx

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Dear Wet Carpet,

My name is Darla and I love to wet myself. I'm usually not very shy or secret about it, either. Of course I've lost more than a few friends and boyfriends over this, but it just feels too good to stop.

I wear skirts most of the time because I really love the feeling of my warm pee trickling down my bare legs. But I also enjoy wetting my jeans and slacks if that's what I'm wearing when I decide to wet.

Most of the time I wet myself out of pleasure rather than necessity or accidentally. One of my former friends, Tara (not her real name), used to hate it when I wet myself. We would be walking together and I would just say, "I have to pee." She would give me that Don't you dare look. Most of the time I would try to be discrete and put my legs close together to pee silently down my legs, but Tara would still turn red and look very nervous and embarrassed.

Our friendship ended the night she spent the night with me and we went out to a club. I peed several times while on the dance floor without anyone noticing. While we were sitting at a booth enjoying our drinks, Tara excused herself to the restroom and I took that time to pee through my black dress and into the seat. When she returned, she asked if I had to go, too, and I smiled and told her I already did. She frowned and shook her head and again her face turned red.

On the cab ride home, Tara barely spoke to me, just frowning and glancing at me. I finally got her to tell me what was wrong.

"I really just wish you'd quit pissing yourself," she said. "It's disgusting."

"I'm sorry," I said. I really did feel bad, but I also felt like she was being kind of harsh. "It's really not as gross as you think," I said. "And it feels really great."

"But you don't even have to piss yourself. There was a bathroom at the club, you could've used it, but you just... pissed in your seat. And someone else has to sit there." No matter what I did, I couldn't convince her that the risk and the "disgust" was worth the warm pleasure I felt when I wet myself.

As we were talking, our cab driver mumbled something. Ahead of us were a lot of flashing lights and a long line of cars. We were too far to see, but it was obviously a serious wreck.

"Great," Tara said, frowning again. Then, she fidgeted and I could tell she had to pee. She looked out the back windshield and a line of cars had already started behind us. "Dammit," she mumbled.

"What's wrong?" I asked, pretending not to notice that familiar look of desperation. She sighed and placed her hand between her legs.

"I really have to pee." As we waited, and waited, Tara winced a few times and bent over, trying to hold herself through her skirt. Finally, a police officer stepped up to the window and our cab driver rolled it down.

"Gonna be a while to get this cleaned up. Semi tipped over. You can either wait or turn around and take Smith Street." Tara groaned as our cab driver thanked the officer and rolled his window up. Smith Street would add an extra ten minutes to the drive.

"What d'you wanna do ladies?" he asked.

"Just drive," Tara said, surprising both of us. I tried to be helpful and asked her if she wanted me to ask the driver to find somewhere secluded and let her out to pee. "Oh, you would love that, wouldn't you?" she said in a harsh whisper. "Me, yanking my pants down and peeing outside right in front of the cab driver. Forget it. I'll just have to hold it until we get to your house.

After about five minutes, though, it was obvious she wasn't going to make it. I was also starting to feel the need to pee, but it wasn't urgent. That didn't mean I wasn't going to pee, of course.

"Listen, Tara," I whispered. "I have to pee, too, and I can tell you're not going to make it." She turned to me and this time her expression was wide-eyed and pleading. She knew she was about to burst. "It's okay. Just go ahead and wet yourself. He won't know until we're out of this cab and he's already been paid." She shook her head and looked like she was about to cry. "No one will know except me," I said. "Like this." I let go and peed slowly and quietly into my panties and skirt, feeling the comforting warmth under my butt as it soaked the cab seat. "Come on. Just take your hand away and let it happen."

Tara's face turned red again, but she must have resigned to the unavoidable because she took her hand away and scooted back in the seat. Still frowning, she sighed I could hear a faint hiss coming from her crotch. She did not seem to be enjoying it at all and I saw a tear drop from her eye.

When we finally got to my house, I paid the driver handsomely. I tried to apologize to Tara several times, but she just continued to frown and told me to drop it.

She slept on my couch that night. As usual, I crawled into my bed and emptied my bladder. Since I had gone in the cab, it was just a tiny trickle, but it soothed me enough that I was soon asleep.

The next morning, Tara was gone, her car gone, and just a few hours later she texted me and said she didn't think we could be friends anymore.

So, if any of your readers are looking for a friend who loves to pee herself and isn't embarrassed about it, just click on my screen name and send me a message.


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Dear Wet Carpet,

Something incredible happened the other day and I think it is the perfect story for your magazine.

I live in a sorority house with six other girls. I'll give them all fake names to keep privacy: Jamie, Sara, Dena, Tammy, Brenda, and Carol. The house is two-story, but right now only the upstairs bathroom works. As you can imagine, this creates some chaos if a bunch of us need the bathroom at the same time.

A few nights ago, we came home from a party and we were all feeling the effects of the alcohol, both in our heads and in our bladders. Jamie, our sorority leader, unlocked the door.

"Oooh, I have to pee so bad," she said. As she was opening the door, though, another girl, Sara, pushed past her and darted up the stairs. We all yelled after her, but she was already up and we heard the door shut behind her.

"She'd better not be in there long," Dena said. "I'm pretty sure we all have to go." There was a unanimous answer as we all stared daggers up the stairs at the locked door. My need to pee wasn't critical, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to be last in line, so I headed for the stairs.

"Wait," Dena said, "if we all have to pee, how are we going to do this? There's only one toilet."

"Who's gotta go the worst?" Tammy asked.

"I am seriously about to explode," Jamie said.

"I can maybe hold off for a bit, but not too long," I said.

"I'm hurting," Brenda said.

"I can wait a little longer," Carol said.

So Jamie and Brenda walked up the steps to the bathroom, clutching their crotches as if walked up the stairs almost made them lose it. The toilet finally roared and as the bathroom door opened, Jamie pushed Sara out of the way and slammed the door shut behind her. Sara just laughed as she looked at all of us, squirming and holding ourselves.

"Ohhhh," Brenda moaned. "Jamie, hurry up. I can't hold it. I'm gonna piss on the carpet if you don't hurry up." We all watched her as she bounced up and down, whining. To our surprise, Brenda unbuttoned her jeans and reached her hand inside to hold herself. "Jamie, please. I can't... Uhhhhhh!" And that was it for Brenda. As she moaned, the crotch of her jeans became dark as she peed into her pants. Even from the bottom of the stairs you could hear it hiss our of her pee hole as it soaked her jeans. The dark stain grew as her pee flowed down her legs and dripped from the cuffs of her pants legs and onto the carpet.

Jamie finally opened the door and Brenda warned her to watch her step as she continued to soak her jeans. All Jamie could do was apologize to Brenda as Tammy scooted past her and into the bathroom. Brenda just shrugged as she finished peeing, pulled off her soaked jeans and panties, and went into her room. Jamie said she was tired and also went to her room.

So that left Carol and I waiting for the bathroom. Carol looked at me and smiled.

"Can you keep a secret?" she asked. I promised her I could, crossing my heart and holding up my pinky. "I could probably hold it until Brenda gets out, but since the floor is already wet, I'm not going to."

My eyes widened as Carol stepped up to the wet spot on the carpet. She was wearing an evening dress that hung just below her knees. As I watched her, she stood with her legs together,sighed, and I could hear a steady hiss coming from between her legs. She closed her eyes as a flow of pee trickled down her legs and dripped quietly from her feet to the carpet. "Mmm, that feels nice. Ohhh." She bit her lip and I knew then that there was a side of Carol I didn't know about.

Just then the door opened and Brenda stepped out. She looked at Carol who just shrugged. "Couldn't hold it anymore," Carol said as the last of her pee dripped from her ankles.

Brenda walked away to her room and I started to step into the bathroom when Carol touched my shoulder.

"You don't have to go in there," she whispered, gesturing to the carpet. "I saw how you were watching me, like you could tell it felt good." She was right. She was obviously enjoying herself. I had wet myself before, but only through necessity, not on purpose. A deliberate carpet wetting sounded naughty and really sexy. "Go ahead. The floor's wet already. Just stand right there and pee yourself."

I took a quick look at the bathroom and as I spotted the toilet, a pulse in my bladder reminded me that I didn't have much longer. I was wearing gray tights with a long top that reached my thighs. I stood there in front of one of my sorority sisters, closed my eyes, and let go.

Right away my panties filled with warm pee. I kept my legs together like Carol did and I felt a delicious tingle as my pee squirted out, tickling my clitoris. It filled my panties, soaked my crotch, and trickled down my legs, soaking the front and inside legs of my tights. I couldn't hold back a moan as my pee dwindled and the pressure in my bladder lifted. I opened my eyes to see Carol, watching me, smiling.

"How did that feel?" she asked.

"Amazing," I answered.

The next morning, Carol confessed to me that she was a regular wetter, when the opportunity was there. In fact, she had woken up late in the night and had to pee again. Figuring she could blame it on drunkenness, she just closed her eyes, spread her legs, and let go in her bed.

I think I could learn a lot from Carol.


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Dear Wet Carpet,

I am 45, married with four kids, and I rarely get a chance to indulge. Between driving my kids everywhere, working a job, and keeping the house clean, I rarely have time for anything. My husband also works, and often late, so I have suffered a lot of disappointing nights where my needs have had to take a back seat to everyone else's needs.

But I have a secret my husband and kids don't know about. I love to wet my panties. Usually, I only get to enjoy this kink of mine in the early morning, just before I take a shower. Sometimes, I sit on the toilet still wearing my night gown and panties and just pee through my panties into the toilet. I have also stood in the tub wearing my panties and filled them with warm pee while waiting for the water to fill up.

I've never told my husband because I know he would be disgusted and maybe even angry. He is very conservative, sexually, and usually gets testy if I suggest anything that is out of the ordinary. And since I do the laundry, all evidence is literally washed away.

However, about a week ago my son spilled juice all over our carpet. Since a lot of the carpet in our house could use some cleaning, I convinced my husband that we should hire professionals to come in and clean the carpet. He couldn't afford any days off, so I took a day off and called in to schedule the cleaning.

On the day the cleaners would arrive, I sent my kids off to school and kissed my husband before he left for work. The cleaners would not be there until 1:00, so I had the morning to myself. I locked all of the doors, closed the blinds in the house, and then stripped down to nothing but my favorite white pair of lacy panties. I had already finished off a cup of coffee and a big glass of water, so my bladder was beginning to fill up. I've always been able to hold and when I pee, I pee a lot, so I knew this was going to be a mess.

I debated where to do it first, not used to this brazen feeling of total freedom. Then I decided that the best place to begin would be the bedroom. I ran up the steps, feeling my urge grow as I walked into the bedroom. I lay on my back on the soft, dark carpet, and closed my eyes. Immediately my panties filled with warm pee as I let go. It trickled out and flowed gently down my vagina and soaked my bottom and the carpet under me. Feeling very turned on, I pulled my panties aside and just squirted the rest of my pee all over the carpet, caressing my vagina as I did. I gasped as I had a small orgasm and my pee dwindled and then stopped.

I decided to leave my panties and just walk around the house naked for a while. I sat on the couch naked while watching the morning news. I went to the kitchen and made another cup of coffee. As I was pouring my coffee, I felt a small urge to pee and I did not hold it back, letting it dribble out and trickle down my legs to the kitchen floor. Since the kitchen wasn't carpeted, I put a towel down to soak up the mess. I returned to the front room to sit naked again and continue watching the news.

About thirty minutes later, I again had to pee. This time, I held it as I flipped through the channels, looking for something else to watch. I never get to watch daytime television, so I was wrapped up in a good soap opera when my urge to pee became so strong that I had to hold myself. I still held on, though, sitting up in the couch and pressing my hands between my legs. A little later another surge hit my bladder and I actually lost a little, feeling a warm wetness against my fingers.

To keep from soaking the couch, I scooted forward and sat on the edge of the couch, still holding myself. Another surge and my fingers again became wet. This desperation was making me wet in more ways than one, so I stopped holding myself and started stroking my vagina, paying special attention to my clitoris. I knew that when another pee surge struck, I would lose it if I wasn't holding myself. I continued to rub myself, my body tingling with pleasure. Finally, another wave hit my bladder and I didn't try to stop it.

A warm jet of pee squirted out of me with a loud hiss and splattered to the carpet. I rubbed my vagina furiously as I peed full force, splashing my pee all over my legs and the carpet. I could see the juice stain and I smiled as I thought about all of the stains I had made. Finally, as I continued to pee, I could not help but thrust my hips as I climaxed, screaming loud enough that my neighbors probably heard. When I was done, I sunk my bottom to the floor and let the last of my pee trickle out into the carpet.

All of that and you'll never believe what happened next. When I went upstairs to retrieve my wet panties and get dressed, I guess all of the excitement had weakened my bladder a little. I squatted at the top of the stairway and peed again, leaving another wet stain on our soon-to-be-cleaned carpet.

When the cleaners came, they never said a word. And my husband and kids never found out.


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Dear Wet Carpet,

My name is Maureen. A little while ago, my friend Heather wrote to you about a get-together I had with some friends. I won't relay all the details here again, but let's just say that evening ruined me, but in a good way.

First of all, let me tell you a little about my situation. I am a stay-at-home mom, even though two of my kids are in high school and the third is off to college. My husband travels a lot for work. So I spend a lot of time alone in our house, occupying my time with little hobbies like crafts, taking walks, keeping up with friends and family online, and of course doing housework.

The morning after our little party the house was empty because my husband was out of town again and both kids had spent the night with friends. I was exhausted from the mix of a small hangover and the tough work of scrubbing the carpet in my living room, trying to get any smell and stains out. You would think after that I would have sworn off anything like that again. But as I squirmed in my bed, reminiscing about our naughty acts the night before, the butterflies in my stomach were impossible to ignore.

I rolled over and a familiar pressure in my bladder added to the exciting energy of remembering the warm feelings from last night. I was really tired and not wanting to get out of bed. I knew my husband would be gone for a little over a week. If I let go in the bed, it would make a mess and I would undoubtedly be scrubbing the mattress or worse replacing it. I looked around my room, my mind all over the place thinking of options. A part of me pleaded to just go to the bathroom, but a much louder and naughtier part of me remembered last night's pleasures. I looked curiously at my bedroom floor, carpeted thickly by a brown fabric. I finally made up my mind.

I rolled over again onto my left side and pulled the covers off of me. Because I knew I would be alone, I had undressed again last night after the girls left and slept naked. So I scooted my bottom back until it hung over the edge of the bed just a little. I closed my eyes as if going back to sleep until I felt the pressure in my bladder again. This time, I did not stop it as I sighed and just let go.

I could feel it warming my crotch as a small trickle started and dribbled down the back of my thigh. As it built strength, light splashes tickled my bottom and I could hear it dropping to the floor. I wanted so badly to see it falling freely to the carpet, but I just kept my eyes closed and enjoyed the warm flow as I peed uncontrollably, spraying my messy morning urine from the edge of my bed to my carpet. As I continued to pee, I reached a delicate finger to my vagina and stroked my clitoris gently. I felt messy splashes of pee wetting the edge of the mattress, but this didn't stop me. I rubbed and rubbed as my pee came to a stop. My climax came quickly and strongly as I squirmed and cried out, feeling every intense moment.

When I finished, I stood up and surveyed the damage. A few wet trails were on the side of the mattress right below where I hung my bottom over, but they were barely noticeable. The stain on the floor would obviously need dried up and scrubbed. I walked to the bathroom, grabbed a towel, and dropped it over the stain. Then, I got dressed, sliding on panties, a pair of jeans, and a shirt.

A little later, I was making myself breakfast when the phone rang. It was my husband, calling to check in. We talked for a bit, flirting and sharing our loneliness with each other. As we talked, I could feel my bladder announcing its need again. I didn't want to hang up, that's for sure, since my husband was only able to call about once or twice a day. I squirmed as I talked to him, telling him how much I missed him. He flirted more, telling me what he wanted to do when he gets back home. Then, he said he had to go. We both reluctantly said bye and hung up.

Great. Now I was desperate and horny.

That's it, I decided. I unzipped my jeans and while standing next to our sink I reached my hand into my pants and started rubbing my clitoris. I pushed my jeans down until they were at my knees. My rubbing grew more furious as I closed my eyes and pictured my husband standing there with me, his strong hands touching my and rubbing me. "Oh, I can't hold it anymore," I said. I did not stop rubbing my clitoris as I moaned loudly and let go completely. My pee rushed out of me and hissed loudly into my panties, splashing down my thighs and soaking my jeans and the kitchen floor. I screamed my pleasure and my knees weakened. I couldn't stand anymore and just knelt on the kitchen floor, rubbing and crying as my pee slowed to a trickle and my orgasm wracked my body with bursts of pleasure.

I have so much more to share, but that will have to wait.


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Dear Wet Carpet,

My husband and I recently discovered a side of ourselves we had never explored before. We both enjoy wet sex. It sort of happened by accident.

We came home one night after a great evening together with some friends. We had gotten a little tipsy and as we staggered into the house, my husband suggested we sleep on the pullout couch downstairs since he didn't think either of us were in a condition to make it up the stairs in one piece.

I reluctantly agreed and he lead me into the room that is connected to our garage that we usually reserve for guests. This room had a pullout couch, a love-seat, two lounge chairs, a television, and my husband's pool table.

My husband pulled out the couch-bed and laid down some blankets and two pillows. Then he flopped down on the bed and tapped the spot next to him, inviting me to join him.

I would have gladly joined him except for a growing urge in my bladder. The bathrooms were upstairs and I eyed the stairs for a second, wondering if I could brave them in my condition.

"What's wrong, babe?" he asked.

"Um... I kind of have to pee."

"Well, I sure know I wouldn't be any help getting you up those stairs. I'm not even sure I can get up off this bed now."

"I'm serious. I really have to go." I started walking to the stairs and after just a few steps, I stumbled over the love-seat and nearly fell. My husband laughed and even I giggled. But I was also worried. "What am I gonna do?"

Seeing that I was genuinely upset, my husband managed to stand up and walk to me. He took my hands in his and smiled.

"Hey, it's okay," he mumbled. Then, he leaned in and kissed my neck. I felt tingles all over as his kisses traveled down to my shoulder and then down my neckline to the top of my breasts.

"You're gonna make me... pee myself," I warned him. But he didn't stop. Instead, he reached his hand beneath my dress and gently slid my panties aside, slipping his finger in and caressing my vagina. I thought I was going to explode, but I held on. "What are you... doing?" I asked. Even as I was asking it, though, I knew I wanted him, badly. I unzipped his pants and eased his swollen penis from its hiding place. He placed his hands behind my buttocks and pulled me towards him. I was already very wet so he slid easily inside of me. Standing right there in out guest room, out bodies thrust together, gently at first, and then more lustfully.

Then he pulled out of me just long enough to lead me to the bed. My husband lay on his back and pulled me down on top of him. I lifted my dress and pulled my panties aside again, guiding his penis back into my awaiting vagina. After just a few seconds of riding his hard cock, I knew I wouldn't be able to hold my bladder much longer.

"I really have to pee," I said, still riding him. "What do you want me to do?"

"Don't stop," he said. "It's okay."

"You want me to just go?"

"It's... whatever... you want... just don't stop. Ohh..." I finally couldn't hold it any longer. I slowed my rhythms just a little and as I lifted up, feeling the tip of his cock just touching my labia, I let go. My warm pee trickled out of me and I could feel it splash against his penis and back at my vagina. I sat down on his lap, keeping his penis right at my lips and let go fully, feeling the amazing warmth as my pee soaked his crotch and mine and trickled to the mattress below us.

When my pee finally stopped, my husband grabbed me and flipped me over, crawling on top of me and entering me again. It only took a few thrusts and we both came, screaming to our empty house as we climaxed.

We lay there in each others arms, panting and gasping. Afterwards, we slipped off our wet clothes and because we were still too sloshed to go upstairs we decided to sleep naked in the wet bed. We could shower in the morning. We were spooning and I was just about to drift off to sleep when my husband interrupted.

"Now I kind of have to pee." I laughed and he laughed, too.

"Might as well just go in the bed," I said, "because I'm not moving." A few seconds later he sighed and I felt his warm spray against my bottom and the back of my thighs.

"Ohh, that's nice," he said as he peed full force against the back of my legs and my butt. This must have awoken another urge in my bladder, so I just let it happen as my warm pee trickled out and soaked my legs and the mattress under me. As I peed, my husband moved in the bed and soon I felt his penis enter me from behind. I bucked my hips and bottom as he gently thrust against me, kissing my back and caressing my breasts. Just a few minutes later and he was groaning again and the sounds of his orgasm set me off as I climaxed.

We fell asleep shortly after.

And don't worry. We replaced the mattress.


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Dear Wet Carpet,

I work at a supermarket and recently our maintenance crew was working on the employee bathrooms. As you could probably predict, this turned out to be a disaster. Since I was not aware of the repairs, I drank several cups of coffee before heading to work, as well as a bottle of water.

I was working the counter and we were really busy. I felt a small urge to pee. There were about 6 people in my line so I picked up the phone and called my manager at the service desk. I asked her if I could have a break soon. When she asked me why, I told her I needed to use the bathroom.

"Bathrooms are closed," she said. "You would have to run next door and I can't spare you for that long." I hung up the phone and tried my best to hold it without being obvious. As I checked the next person out, I peered over at the next lane at my coworker who also looked like she would rather be somewhere else. She also seemed to be clenching her legs together, as if trying to hold her pee.

My line grew and I began to feel pressure in my bladder. I picked up the phone again and called the service desk. "I really have to pee," I said.

"Well, you'll just have to wait," she said. "What is it with you all? Your neighbor there just called me for the same thing." I glanced at my coworker again and she bit her lip as she obviously squeezed her legs together to keep from wetting herself.

"This is ridiculous," I said. "Why they heck are they working on our bathrooms while we're open? Isn't that something they could do when no one's working? I really have to go. I'm about to pee myself right here."

"Your friend said the same thing. Either deal with it or figure something out." I hung up the phone and again sighed in frustration. What was I going to do? My line continued to grow and so did the pressure in my bladder. I looked over at my friend again and as I did I saw that she was standing close to the counter, swiping items across the scanner, and her face seemed relieved. She didn't look like she was desperate anymore and I started to wonder if she had wet herself. Her jeans were dark, so it would have been difficult to tell. What I did know was that she didn't seem to be struggling anymore. I wished I could say the same. I felt like I could explode any second.

I picked up the phone one more time. "Oh, for crying out loud, what do you want me to do?" The manager said. "I don't care if you pee your pants. We are too busy and I can't let you go."

"I really just might wet myself," I said, and it was a serious warning. I could feel it creeping to the end of my urethra and I knew I wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.

"So go ahead," she said and hung up again. I really felt like I had no choice but to either figure out a way to pee inconspicuously or walk away from my register and probably lose my job. I was wearing a skirt, but it was kind of short. If I just let go, someone might see the stream running down my legs. It was possible that if I scooted in close like my coworker did and hide my crotch and legs from view, I could let some out and not be discovered.

I took a few steps forward as I started swiping items for the next customer. Unable to wait any longer, I let some of my pee go. I felt a warm squirt in my panties and a tiny trickle down my legs. I cut it off as the customer started a conversation. This was really painful, though, so I released a little more, easing some of the pressure. Realizing it hurt just too much to hold it anymore, I decided to just slightly spread my legs and pee full force into my panties. It was tough to keep a straight face as my warm pee filled my panties and flowed down my legs, dripping softly to the carpet. I continued to talk to the customer and ring up her order as I pushed a bit and felt the warm spray splash against the front of my panties. Finally, my flow stopped and I continued work as usual.

A little while later, we were still quite busy and I had to pee again. So I just let go, not caring this time if anyone saw or heard. After we clocked out, I talked to my coworker and she admitted that she, too, peed herself. She even showed me the barely noticeable wet spot between her legs. As we were leaving, she said she had to pee again.

"Well, you're already wet," I said. "You might as well just pee in them again." She giggled.

"I think I just might," she said. She leaned against the door of her car and I could just barely see the shiny wetness glistening between her legs as she peed her pants again. Not wanting to be left out, I checked to make sure no one was watching, parted my legs, and peed a steady stream that soaked my panties and dripped loudly onto the parking lot.

That was the day my coworker and I became good friends.

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Dear Wet Carpet,

I just may be one of the luckiest girls out there. I get to pee and have someone else clean up after me.

This has actually been true all my life. My parents are very wealthy and we have house maids who keep the place spotless. I was an excitable child, born well into my parents adulthood, and I had a very weak bladder (which still bothers me) and I had frequent accidents. Since much of the house was carpeted, it was common to see one of our maids scrubbing a wet spot on the floor or mopping up a mess in one of the few rooms with tile flooring. My parents were at first embarrassed about this until it became so regular that all of their usual guests were aware of the issue. Apparently it would have been even more embarrassing to have a daughter who wore diapers well into her adolescent years since they never made me wear any.

As I grew up, the problem did not go away. In fact, it got worse as I also started wetting the bed. I don't know if I was being lazy or if the pressure really was so bad when I woke up that I didn't even have time to get up. Again, one of the maids would change my sheets and eventually my mattress was covered with a protector. I also stopped trying to hide my accidents since all of my closest friends knew and if they didn't they would find out eventually. I wore skirts more often than jeans, and in my late teens I also discovered the pleasures of wetting myself. I must confess that some of my accidents during that phase (and since then) were intentional.

I didn't move out of my parents' house when I started college. The university was just down the street and they were paying for everything, so I stayed. To make me feel more independent and give me privacy, they had a guest house built on their property. That is where I live now. And they assigned my favorite maid, Sarah, to the guest house.

Anyway, the guest house is mine to do as I please. Just this morning I woke up needing to pee very badly. I probably could have made it since the bathroom is right across the hall. Instead, I just lay there and peed my bed, enjoying the comforting warmth under my bottom. I knew Sarah would be in later to change the sheets once I left for school. Later, as I was making breakfast, I had to pee again and I peed a warm flow down my legs, soaking the kitchen floor. This time I felt a bit horny, so I sat down in a chair and fingered myself until I gasped as I climaxed, feeling a little bit more pee seep out of me and splash to the floor.

I love this life. I plan on having friends over, reveal my secret to them, and we can all enjoy the pleasures of wetting wherever and whenever we feel the need.


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Dear Wet Carpet

My name is Alison and I am a 20 year old student. Last night I was in Susan's digs. Another friend, Clare, was also there. Both are the same age as me, and we became friends whilst attending the same psychology courses. All three of us were doing some reseach over a few drinks. We had recently been studying abnormal psychology - schizophrenia, personality disorders, bi-polar disorders, and all that shit. But the subject also included mention of sexual paraphilias, eg the way some people become sexually fixated upon certain things and develop a sexual fetish. We all had to write up an essay about some area of abnormal psychology and most of the class were going for subjects like schizophrenia and such. But we were told that we could earn extra marks for originality. So we each decided to pick a sexual fetish and research it, and bat ideas and thoughts off each other.

I chose BDSM, which we are going to research later. Clare has chosen the rather giggle-inducing subject matter of adult babies, ie infantilism. I expect we'll have a laugh researching that one, but that's something for later as well. Last night, we researched Susan's chosen area of interest - chosen because she was pretty sure no one else in the class would choose this subject. The subject matter was urophilia, urine fetishes, watersports, golden showers, all that stuff. I was expecting it to be more of a laugh than anything, though I have had the occasional fantasy that involves peeing before, including ones where I am being peed on by some guy or girl, or am peeing on someone myself. Once I dreamt that I was wetting the bed and really enjoying it - only to wake up and find that I actually WAS wetting the bed in my sleep! Didn't really dig having to clean that shit up, lol.

Anyway, we started out by looking for related subject matter and psychological studies via google, but our search terms kept finding pee porn too. After a couple drinks, and feeling a little giggly, we decided to just look at some of the pee porn itself. Never actually specifically sought out this stuff before but some of it was interesting in a turning me on kind of way. We were having a bit of a laugh with some of it, making joky comments. For example, in one scene this guy with a massive dick was pissing in this girl's mouth, when Clare said, "I can't imagine ever letting some guy do that in my mouth."

Susan laughed as she responded, " Well, if he's got a massive cock like that, I might consider letting him do ANYTHING in my mouth, haha."

We all thought that was funny.

Anyway, we stumbled across some porn that only showed girls, sometimes in pairs or small groups but often alone, just peeing in the most outrageously disgusting places, like all over hotel room carpets and beds, on kitchen floors, on furniture and tables, and stuff like that. We had all heard about watersports and golden showers but it came as a revelation to us that some people were into just peeing all over the place without giving a shit about the mess. But it was actually seriously turning me on to see this. Susan decided that this was going to be the main focus of her essay - a sub-fetish within a fetish:- urophiles whose interest is pissing all over everything. We were all pretty confident that this would be very original subject matter for a psychology class.

Well, after another couple of drinks, Susan laughingly admitted that she found all this a bit of a turn on in a dirty kind of way.

"Me too!" I giggled.

"Really, guys?" laughed Clare as she rolled her eyes.

But a psychological taboo had been torn down with those admissions, and the floodgates were soon opened, lol.

Susan said, "Well I need to pee right now, and you guys must need to as well by now."

"I dread to think where this is going" laughed Clare.

Susan continued, "How about we do some more....er...."practical" reasearch? How about if I pee right here on the carpet?"

I laughed as Clare responded with, "You've gotta be kidding. You wanna piss on your own frigging carpet? Haha."

"Why not? I think it might even be fun."

"Go on then" I encouraged her.

And she pretty much did. She stepped out of her jeans and knickers and popped a squat right there over the carpet. And amidst much laughter she started pissing, her pee splashing loudly onto the carpet and creating an ever growing puddle. Susan gazed down at her own pee splashing down, then looked at us and laughed, "I needed that."

"Susan, you dirty bitch!" laughed Clare.

"I know, haha. But it really is rather enjoyable. "

I thought so too. This was one of the sexiest things I'd ever seen. And by the time she'd finally finished she'd made a massive puddle. Then she simply stood up, admired the mess for a moment, and said, "Right, your turn now, girls."

"What? You want us to pee on your carpet too?" asked an amused but slightly incredulous Clare.

"Well, not really. Carpet's been done now. Use you imaginations."

In a moment of inspiration, I grinningly announced, "I'm going to do it in the kitchen!"

And I strode out into Susan's kitchen, followed by her and Clare. There I stepped out of my own jeans and panties and stood in the middle of the room with my legs parted and hands on hips. I'd seen some good standing pees in those porn vids and felt inspired to do one myself. And pretty soon my own golden torrent was loudly hissing out of me and splashing down all over the floor tiles. It felt fucking brilliant doing this, an amazing turn on. My eyes have been opened. I never knew before how much fun it could be just to piss anywhere like this. Totally flooded that floor too by the time I'd finished.

We all looked at Clare then who expressed reluctance at doing something so dirty, but clearly she really wanted to as well. After a little protest just for the sake of show, she went with the flow so to speak and stepped out of her own jeans and panties before climbing up onto the kitchen table. There she popped a squat and was soon grinning as she peed all over the table. And what a flood it was. She was still going strong as pee started pouring off the sides in several places to splash down onto the kitchen floor.

Once she'd finished, we all burst into laughter and high-fived each other.

This kind of brought an end to our "research" for the evening. We were now both too tipsy and too horny to really carry on, and just spent time laughing and joking about it all until Clare and I headed home to our own respective digs. When home alone, the first thing I had to do was bring myself off, and I enjoyed the best orgasm ever.

I really am going to have to read Susan's finished essay. Should be very interesting, lol.


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Dear Wet Carpet,

Some of your readers may not approve of my story, but I have to confess that's what makes it kind of hot for me, that it's naughty.

I travel out of town a lot for work. Since I'm single and don't have any kids yet, this never bothers me. I love seeing new places. I especially love that the company I work for pays for everything, including my meals, and they don't go cheap, either.

Because of this, I get to stay in a lot of high end resorts, places that respect privacy and anonymity. I first discovered the value of this one night when I had a little too much to drink in the downstairs club. I only vaguely remember this and I wouldn't believe it if not for the stain as proof. I staggered up to my room around 1 am and I just barely remember trying to open the door with my card key while also holding myself because I had to pee desperately. Not sure how long it took, but I finally got it open. I think I said something like, "Ohh, I really have to pee," and I started tugging off my panties as I walked in, clumsily kicking the door shut behind me. I guess I bypassed the bathroom and instead walked back to the bedroom. Tired and very drunk, I lifted my skirt, sat down, and peed into the corner of the bed. I woke up the next morning, confused and hung over.

Embarrassed and a little nervous, I went to my business meeting and when I returned, the bed was made. I could feel my face get red and I pulled the covers and sheets aside to see the damage to the mattress. To my surprise, the mattress was covered with a protector that I'm sure wasn't there before.

I was relieved when I returned to work to learn that the resort had not reported anything to my superiors. After that, I became a little more bold and curious while staying at these resorts.

In one resort, while enjoying a cup of coffee and a book in the library, I felt the need to pee. Instead of searching for the bathroom or going back up to my room, I lifted my skirt out of the way and just relaxed, soaking my panties and the cushion under me.

At another, I was taking advantage of the exercise room. After an intense run on the treadmill, all the water I had drank made its way to my bladder. I was alone in the room, so I stepped off the treadmill and stood beside it. Since my exercise shorts were black, I stood there and peed into my panties and shorts, sending a warm trail of urine down my legs and to the floor.

One of my favorite resorts has the works: a huge pool, three hot tubs, a sauna, exercise room. I made a day of peeing while I was there. First, I took a dip in the pool, peeing several times while swimming. At one point, I pulled the crotch of my one-piece suit to the side and peed full-force into the water. Next, I went to soak in the hot tub and before sinking into it, I sat on the side, spread my legs, and peed into the warm water, smiling as I watched my pee trickle through the crotch of my suit. Later, in the sauna, I sat naked on the bench and as the heat made me have to pee, I just spread my legs and peed through the small slats in the bench.

That night, as I crawled into bed, I checked the mattress and smiled as I saw the protector I had requested. Feeling very horny from my pee adventures, I pulled the covers up and reached my hand down to caress my vagina. Fingering myself through my panties, I let go and started peeing in my bed. I licked my lips and touched my clit as I soaked my panties and the mattress under me. It felt so comfortable and warm and it didn't take long to climax as I thrust my hips and cried out.

And of course when I woke up the next morning, I had to pee again. My night gown, panties, and bed were soaked... and cold! I pulled the covers back, sat up in the bed, and sighed as I released all of my morning pee, delighting in the warmth as it soaked the sheets and mattress again.

My bosses have never said anything about my peeing adventures, and until they do, I will probably continue to enjoy myself.


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Dear Wet Carpet,

Movie theaters should probably be warned not to leave horny pee-loving girls like me alone in a theater, especially after selling me a large drink.

In the city where I live there is a discount theater that shows movies that have been out of other theaters for a while. It's cheap entertainment and on weekdays the theaters are mostly empty.

I've read on your website about people peeing on theater seats and in the floor. I wanted to try it, so after work I stopped in and bought a ticket to Avatar.

The theater was mid-size, maybe seated about 100, and it was completely empty. I waited around with my large drink, taking gulps from time to time, and I expected more people. The movie started and even thirty minutes in, still no one else in the theater. Guess I had a private showing.

As the large drink started to make its way to my bladder, I lifted my skirt out from under my butt. I didn't know if the seat would absorb very well or not, but with no one else in the theater, I wasn't really worried about splashing sounds or getting caught. I sat back in the seat and pulled the crotch of my panties to the side. My stomach fluttered a little at the thought of what I was about to do.

Finally, I couldn't hold it anymore anyway and I let go. My warm pee dribbled out of me and sprayed onto the seat, which wasn't very absorbent. The pee pooled at my crotch, making a burbling sound as it trickled out. I sat up in the seat and felt the warmth on my butt as I pushed the puddle of pee to the floor. I spread my legs and finished my pee all over the floor in front of me, licking my lips in delight as I did. When I finished, I stood up to change rows, just in case the cleaning person saw where I was sitting. The butt of my skirt was wet and when I stood, drops of pee fell from the hem to the floor. Oh well, good thing it was a black skirt.

Further into the movie, right around the scene when the military is beginning its attack on the Na'vi, I had to pee again. I looked to my left at the steps that ascended to the theater exit. They were carpeted. I smiled, stood up, and walked to the steps. No longer caring about my skirt, I just sat down on one of the steps, spread my legs, and peed completely into my panties and skirt. The warmth of it made me gasp as it soaked my crotch and drenched my butt, ruining the carpet under me. I could even hear it spraying out over the movie as I breathed deep, enjoying my hot pee as it saturated my panties and skirt.

I left the theater without anyone noticing my wet skirt or saying anything about a wet seat or floor. In my car, I couldn't help but finger myself to an explosive orgasm and I screamed to an empty parking lot as I climaxed. I felt another urge to pee, so I just scooted forward in my car seat and peed a slow trickle into the floor of my car.

I hope you enjoyed my story. You'll be hearing from me again, I'm sure.


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Dear Wet Carpet

My name is Mandy, and I am a respectable - yeah right, lol - married woman in my late 30s with a couple of teenage kids. I work as a senior manager in an office environment for a company that sells electrical hardware, and earn very good money. My husband is a top executive in a bank with a salary that dwarfs mine, but I believe in having an independent career. Being one of those kept women is not my style and I like to do something useful and productive with my life. But I have a secret which neither my husband nor my kids know about. And since I am writing to this magazine, readers can probably guess where this is going.

But let me start at the beginning.

When young I developed a fascination with peeing where I wasn't supposed to and increasingly indulged myself in ever more daring ways. That was until my mother caught me peeing on my bedroom carpet. She hit the roof, calling me a dirty bitch and everything, and made me feel thouroughly ashamed of myself. I stopped doing it then, and felt ashamed of my secret peeing desires and tried to ignore them. I was convinced that I was uniquely perverted and disgusting and that no one else in the world was like me. As a grown woman I tried to convince myself that those peeings were just some sort of immature phase I was going through and had now gotten over due to growing up. But in my heart I knew the idea of it still turned me on and occasionally got myself off on fantasies of it. But I always felt ashamed of myself afterwards, and tried to dismiss it as fast as possible and was mostly in denial about such pleasures.

I got myself a decent job and worked my way up, married a successful businessman, lived in a highly respectable area, had two great kids who were being educated at top private schools. I also involved myself in charitable work when I could spare the time, mostly for disadvantaged children and victims of domestic abuse. My husband is also a generous donor to various charitable concerns, and is in fact also motivated by good Christian values, though I am more of an agnostic. We are highly regarded and respected people, thought of as "pillars of the community" and all that shit. And yet all along I harboured secret desires to piss everywhere, which I felt ashamed of and repressed for years.

My sense of shame and embarassment began to ease, though, when I stumbled across a pee fetish forum on the internet. And that came about in typical fashion. I felt so ashamed of myself and of my kink after getting myself off fantasising about pissing on my bedroom carpet, that I went online seeking out psych forums to ask for advice and insight, and probably reassurance that I wasn't a freak. I tried numerous search terms without fully finding what I was looking for. But I did stumble across a pee forum and began to read. And in subsequent days, weeks, and months, I kept going back to it and reading more and more. I found that some of the stories and threads and true tales actually turned me on, and was pleased to discover that I was not uniquely perverted. There were others on the forum who shared such desires - and acted upon them - and were quite open about it, including other women.

For a long time I just lurked, but eventually joined and began interacting. And I began to come to terms with myself. I was not alone. There was a whole community of us. I was able to share and talk about my secret desires with others, and be reassured that this did not make me a bad person. I also found links to pee porn - it had honestly never before occurred to me to look at such stuff - some of which was also highly arousing. I saw videos of girls peeing on hotel room carpets, on beds, on kitchen floors. And I was surprised by the extent to which I found the sight of other girls doing this a turn on.

Inevitably, at home alone, as my guilt and shame diminished, I began to indulge in small acts of naughtiness, like ignoring the toilet and peeing on the shower floor or in the bath instead. But one day, when about to do the same, but inspired by a video I had seen, I decided to be far naughtier. I stripped totally naked and strode into our large luxurious kitchen and simply stood with my legs apart in the middle of it. I placed my hands on my hips and just stood there like that for a few moments, relishing the fact that here I was - a grown woman and respectable wife and mother - about to actually quite deliberately piss all over the kitchen floor. And then I just did it. With a strong hiss born of a full bladder and the sound of loud splashing filling the room, my golden pee was splashing down all over the tiled floor. I swung my hips as I peed, spraying as much of the floor as possible, and ultimately created a massive yellow puddle. And doing it was such a massive turn on.

The kids were at boarding school and my husband wasn't going to be home for many hours yet, so I got an added buzz out of just waliking away and leaving it there. When I cooked myself some lunch I did so whilst my pee still lay all over the floor. Later, I took another long piss all over the floor, totally flooding the place, lol. Had to clean it up eventually, though. I doubt very much whether hubby would have approved of his respectable wife pissing all over the kitchen floor.

Well, that experience that day opened the floodgates - pun very much intended. Sadly, I didn't feel that I could really get away with peeing on carpets or anything, but tiled floors like those in the kitchen or bathroom were frequently peed on after that when I was home alone. I'd also pee in sinks, and all over clothes that were about to be thrown into the washing machine. We also have a wine cellar with concrete floors and walls: sometimes I loved to go in there just to take a piss against a wall. There is something quite naughtily exhilerating about a respected woman secretly taking a naked and standing piss against a wall like a guy.

Finally, though, I now get to the primary reason for this letter - interesting developments in my workplace recently. We have a large filing room lined with filing cabinets, which also has a carpeted floor. One day in there, I discovered almost by accident a quite large puddle on the carpet in the corner, whose fabric and colour tends not to make spillages or anything look blindingly obvious. I was standing there looking for a particular file and being irritated by an itch on my foot. Eventually, I decided I couldn't ignore that itch anymore and removed my shoe to have a good scratch. But as I put my foot down again before putting my shoe back on I noticed immediate wetness. Only then did I look closely enough to see that there was a rather large puddle there. I'd seen staff bringing drinks in there before when they had to look for a lot of stuff so assumed it was a drink spillage. But curious as to exactly what drink had been spilt I touched it with my fingers and raised them towards my face to smell it. And that's when I realised it was pee. Someone had peed right there on the filing room carpet!

As the manager in charge I should have confronted my staff with anger and dire warnings. But intrigued and a little turned on by the realisation that one of them had peed on the carpet, I decided to say nothing, and instead keep my eyes and ears peeled. I wanted very much to know who did it and whether or not it was a one off or something that happened a lot. After this, I was on the lookout for tell-tale puddles, and occasionally found a fresh one in the filing room. I also took mental note of who went in there, when, and for how long. My suspicions eventually began to centre upon Anna - one of the secretaries, aged about 30 - whom I'd noticed going in there for some time on occasions but only coming out with one or two files. I also noticed that when I did find a new puddle, Anna was always one of the people who'd been in there earlier that day. The whole room did actually smell slightly pissy, but only because I was looking out for that. She drank a lot during the day so her pee was probably well diluted most times if it was her. I finally became certain that she was the culprit one day when I decided to investigate just after she came out. And this time, not only did I find another puddle, it was still warm! Nobody else had been in there for ages so it had to be her.

I smiled to myself at this secret knowledge. And I decided I wanted to catch her in the act and then join her. I had not peed on a carpet since I was young, and never in the company of anyone else. The idea of it was so totally fucking sexy on so many levels.

Well the other day the plan finally came to fruition. Anna had been drinking a lot coffee, and I actually saw her fidget slightly, clearly needing a pee. When she got up, though, I saw her head into the filing room instead of towards the toilets. I guessed it wouldn't be long before she started peeing. So I waited for just two minutes and then followed her in. And there she was, squatting in a corner and pissing right there on the carpet, a look of total glee on her face which quickly changed into horrified shock as she saw me. But her pissing continued as she was unable to stop. I just grinned at her, saying in my friendliest voice, "I thought it was you doing this." And I laughed.

Then I unfastened my own work trousers, and lowered them and my panties as I too squatted - not in some corner like Anna but right there in the middle of the room. Her expression had changed from shock, to puzzlement, and then to astonishment as I did this. When I too joined her in pissing on the carpet, her eyes almost popped out of her head as a smirk formed on her face. And it felt fucking brilliant, the two of us there watching each other pissing on the carpet. She finished first and began pulling her trousers up as I just carried on pissing. Then she watched me, grinning.

Once I'd finished, I stood up, and began pulling up my trousers and panties as I smiled at her. "Right, this will just be our little secret, OK?"

She grinned and nodded, then we both left the room to go back to work, pretending that nothing out of the ordinary had happened. But I couldn't stop thinking about it for the rest of the day, and had to bring myself off as soon as I got home.

I hope to share more office carpet pisssing sessions with Anna before too long. Am thinking of taking her out to dinner sometime to chat with her about this sort of stuff.

If there are any more developments of that kind, I will be sure to write another letter telling you all about it.


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Dear Wet Carpet,

At the risk of sounding judgmental, sometimes I read submissions on here and I wonder if they're true or not. But then, I probably wouldn't even believe my story if I read it in here either, but since it happened to me I know it's true. I hope your readers have plenty of time.

One of my friends (we'll call her Carie) was moving out of her house. It was a double-wide mobile home that her and her husband had bought. After their divorce, though, he moved out and bought his own place and my friend wanted to sell and move, as well. Before selling the place, though, she was stripping it bare: furniture, carpets, everything gone.

About a week before selling the house, she invited a bunch of her friends to what I thought she called a "Sleepy Over." I found out not long after I arrived that I was just a tad wrong about the name.

There were four of us, my friend included, who brought sleeping bags, pillows, night clothes, under garments, all expecting to do something we hadn't since childhood. That turned out to be so true for most of us.

"Okay," my friend said as we all stood in her front room, already munching on the snacks she had put out and wondering what was in store for us. We looked a little funny, four thirty-something women waiting to spend the night at our best friend's house. "Thank you for coming. I'm going to get right to it. What I'm about to say might make you want to leave. If you don't want to stay, there's the door. As you know, everything's being stripped from this house. So I had a naughty idea. As we hang out tonight, if anyone has to pee, you can do it anywhere in the house you want... except the bathroom. Kitchen sink doesn't count, either. On the furniture, the carpet, the beds, curtains, even the walls. Your only limit is your imagination."

The rest of us looked at each other. Myself and one other girl (let's call her Marie) were actually smiling, perhaps both intrigued by the idea. But our third friend (alias Sherie) looked shocked and a little appalled. "Are you serious?" she asked. "You want us to pee all over your house?"

"It won't be my house for long. And like I said, everything you would ruin with your pee will be stripped out of here anyway."

"Oh," I said, still smiling. "It's a Sleep-Pee Over." Carie pointed at me and nodded.

"Well, I kind of have to pee right now," Marie said.

"Go ahead," Carie said. Marie rushed over to the plushy brown couch in the front room and, as if on instinct, lifted her skirt out of the way, tugged her panties down, and sat her bare bottom onto one of the soft cushions.

"You're not seriously going to pee on her couch?" Sherie asked. But Marie did not answer. Instead, she closed her eyes and right away we could all hear a hissing sound as she peed loudly into the couch cushion.

"Oh my god, this feels so good," Marie said as she continued to soak the couch. "I've always wanted to do this. Ohh... it's so warm."

"I can't believe you," Sherie said. "I don't know if I can take this. We're not kids anymore, guys. This is childish."

"You wouldn't say that," Marie panted, "If you felt... as great as I do... right now. Mmmm..." She sighed as the hissing sound decreased. She lifted her bottom and we could see the last few drops drip onto the cushion and a big dark wet spot on the cushion.

"I can't do this, I'm sorry." Sherie grabbed her stuff and was out the door.

"Guess the three of us can have some fun," Carie said.

And have fun we did. Later on, Marie and I watched mesmerized as Carie pulled her jeans and panties down and peed full force into her love-seat, soaking the cushion completely. She even masturbated as she peed, not seeming to care about the splashes of pee on her fingers. Marie had to go again and just stood in the middle of the room with her legs together, peeing quietly down her legs to make a warm puddle at her feet.

So I wouldn't be left out, I pointed at the glass coffee table at the center of the room. Both girls nodded and I quickly pulled off my jeans and panties. I sat carefully on the table, resting my bottom on the cool glass surface. With a sigh I released my bladder and sprayed my warm pee all over the table. It pooled between my legs and I smiled as I watched my spray create a stream across the glass surface. My pee seemed to go on and on and since the table was only so big, some of the pee dripped onto the carpet. We all laughed at this until finally my flow slowed to a trickle.

As the night wound on, we had peed on the carpet several times, Carie had soaked the curtains, Marie sat on the back of the couch and sprayed a messy pee all over the back and seat cushions. I laid in the floor and soaked my jeans and panties while we watched a movie.

After the movie, we decided it was time to turn in. For bed time, Carie had moved all three beds into the same room. We changed into our night clothes, my own a skimpy teddy and matching panties. Marie wore a pink gown with white panties, and Carie settled for pajama shorts and a shirt. The blankets and sheets were gone, but we each tossed our sleeping bags on the beds and crawled in. Before Carie shut off the lights, Marie sat up in her bed, spread her legs, and soaked her sleeping bag, sighing with pleasure as she did.

Carie cut the lights off and crawled into her own bed. I snuggled up into my sleeping bag, looking forward to what I knew was going to happen next.

"I haven't wet my bed since I was a kid," Carie confessed. "I can't believe I'm about to do this." In the darkness, I could hear her moving around in her sleeping bag. I tried to picture her face, eyes closed, mouth open, waiting. "Okay," she said. "I can't hold it. I'm just gonna go. Ahhh." With that, a loud spraying sound pierced the darkness as she was obviously peeing into her sleeping bag.

As I listened to her warm pee spraying out, I pulled my panties down and could not help but touch myself. This had been an erotic night and I planned to enjoy myself. I also had to pee again. Laying on my right side, my left leg stretched out in front of me, I continued to caress my clitoris as I let go and sprayed a warm jet of pee into my sleeping bag. I stroked harder and as I kept peeing I could hear both Carie and Marie moaning in the darkness. Great friends think alike, I guess. I climaxed first and shortly after I hear Marie cry out and then Carie. As our moans and gasps stopped, another hissing sound began as Marie once again soaked her sleeping bag.

I slept like a baby and the next morning, I woke up and immediately noticed the cold wetness from my breasts to my toes. To warm things up, I spread my legs and peed once more into my sleeping bag, licking my lips at the welcome warmth of my hot pee as it sprayed all over my thighs and soaked my bottom.

I will never forget that night. If anyone is looking to sell their house and strip it, please invite your friends over and have your own Sleep-Pee Over. They will thank you.


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Dear Wet Carpet

Last week had a spare day so drove to town on my own intending to browse the shops and get a few things for the garden. As I got near the town centre I realised I would need a piss fairly soon so was looking for an opportunity. There was a free parking space so I pulled in amost outside an antique shop. I had been in there before with Les and remembered it had lots of alcoves and corners and some carpet. I was wearing a loose skirt just below my knees and of course no knickers. Not desperate to piss, I wandered around the ground floor until I found an area with a patterned rug on the floor. I stood with my feet slightly apart and splashed a little piss onto the carpet, took a step forward, pissed a little more and walked on.

I repeated the same actions on the next two suitable carpets I found and then went upstairs. A room beyond the first, and then another. This one fully carpeted with unusually thick soft carpet. At some time this room had been a bedroom and I know how absorbent bedroom carpets are. I stood at the far side of the room and let my piss out in small spurts to give it chance to soak in before I relaxed a bit more. The carpet turned out to be not as absorbent as I had thought and a small river of pee started to run across the uneven floor so I stopped and moved to another corne, making sure to walk in the puddle to help it soak in. Another small puddle leaving a slightly darker mark on the carpet and I headed for the stairs stopping briefly to let out another squirt before going down and out of the door. I got back in the car not quite empty but much more comfortable.

Antique shops are ideal for a convenience piss. They tend to have few staff, large areas unattended and the cameras, if they have them will only pick up what you are doing if you make it obvious by squatting or leaving large puddles.

I will add where I went next to my next letter


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Dear Wet Carpet

My name is Julia. Currently I am a detective inspector with the Manchester CID, and in my mid-40s. And in my private life I guess I am into watersports on occasions - if it's the right guy. I think I have always been into pissing really, but in my job have always had to be very careful what I do and who with. Of course, these days no one really bothers about pee porn anymore in any law enforcement sense. Unless it involves minors or coercian or something, we have better things to do and the law is much more relaxed now anyway. I myself often browse the internet looking for pee erotica - amongst other things - and that's how I stumbled across the online version of this magazine.

I love reading about all these women who pee all over the place - carpets, beds, furniture, total piss vandalism. I find it just so wrong and dirty, yet perhaps because of that - when I am in the right mood - it really can turn me on reading about it. Sometimes after reading letters here, I'll deliberately piss all over my own kitchen floor or something - so naughty and wrong, yet so much fun - and easy to clean up. Bathroom floor is another favourite. It's just so damned naughty to be squatting and peeing on the floor, when the toilet is right there only feet away. I suppose I should also admit to being into wetting as well. I don't always bother removing my knickers or pulling my skirt up when I squat and piss on the floor. Sometimes I just piss right through them instead.

Anyway, the law used to be a lot stricter in regards to pee porn in the UK. People could be heavily fined and even imprisoned for producing or performing in it. And even possessing it was illegal. And that brings me to the main point of this letter. You see, 20 years ago I was a young and relatively fresh police woman in my 20s, when I was seconded to the vice squad to assist in a raid on some house. The homeowner was suspected of being involved in the production and sale of illegal pornography, which turned out to involve pissing. No minors were involved, but the guy in charge of the vice squad had a bee in his bonnet about this particular stuff because he personally thought it all quite disgusting. Investigations had revealed that the porn involved pics and vids, sometimes featuring himself, but mostly women, just pissing all over the place. There were three different women in the pics and vids, all aged about mid-30s at the time, and all of whom were known to be living with the guy in question at his address.

Well, I'll cut to the chase. We raided the house, simultaneously busting in both front and back doors and storming in. It was a dawn raid - very early - so the suspects were still all in bed. Two of the women were sharing a bed in one room, whilst the guy and another woman shared a bed in another. But I shall never forget the mess. Everything was fairly tidy in terms of things being in their right place, with very little clutter. But the smell of piss hit me as soon as I entered. The place reeked of it. And we quickly discovered wet patches on the carpets, a table that was covered in piss, and the living room wall showing unmistakeable signs of having been peed against. In fact, it appeared that the occupants had been pissing just about everywhere in that house - all over the carpets and furniture, against the walls, on the floors, all over tables. And obviously filming it too, because camera equipment was scattered around. And very little effort seemed to have been put into ever cleaning this up. Some of the stains on the carpets had clearly been there for a while. And these people were living amongst all this!

Anyway, we arrested the suspects and found large stashes of pictures and vids, which of course was going to be used against them as evidence. And as a lowly WPC at the time, I was one of the ones charged with the task of going through some of this material, selecting the most incriminating stuff for evidence to be used in court. Well, it was an eye-opener. I already knew I was into watersports. Before I joined the police I had this thing going with a guy for a while, which included us both pissing on each other after a few drinks. And ever since then I'd often fantasised about that sort of thing. But the notion of just pissing all over the place for the sheer fun of it, and getting off on it, had never really occurred to me until now. But there was obviously a market for it, if these people were making money out of selling this stuff.

And the material was very interesting to say the least. There was one video of one of the women holding the fridge door open, whilst another held the guy's dick as he pissed in it. They were all grinning and laughing and obviously enjoying it.

Most of the stuff, though, just featured the women. There was one scene where two of the women were stood naked and pissing against the living room wall, and obviously finding it fun. Another scene featured all three women squatting naked upon one of the double beds - and pissing all over it. And yet another scene featured a naked woman semi-squatting in the middle of the living room, with her legs apart and hands on her knees, grinning as she pissed all over the living room carpet, whilst the other two women sat on the sofa laughing at the sight of her doing this. And so on. I saw pics and vids of one or more of the women pissing all over carpets, squatting and pissing on armchairs and sofas, or upon tables. There was one clip where one of the women was stood astride the toilet - with it's lid closed but pissing there anyway, whilst her two grinning friends were just squatting and peeing on the bathroom floor.

Some of their antics were fucking outrageous. One woman was stood pissing in the fridge, whilst the other two pissed all over the dishes in the dishwasher. In another scene, all three women, at first fully clothed, gradually undressed in the living room, placing all their discarded clothing, item by item, in a pile in the middle of the living room. Then once naked, all three stood around the pile and started pissing all over their own clothes.

There were also watersports vids too, featuring mostly the women pissing all over each other in various locations in the house, often pissing in each other's faces, even in each other's mouths. And they were drinking it too!

Well, as result of seeing all this, I began for the first time to fantasise about pissing somewhere naughty myself. The thought of doing something like that had never occurred to me before, but was really turning me on now. That night when I got home, for the first time ever I decided to deliberately piss on my kitchen floor instead of using the toilet. And it was such a turn on, hearing and seeing my own yellow piss splashing down all over the floor tiles. Been doing it ever since. Never wanted to ruin my own carpets and furnture or mattresses, though, but there was this one time when I was at this guy's place, when he let me have a piss on his bedroom carpet. That was totally superb.

As for the guy and his three women who we'd arrested? Yeah, we prosecuted them, which I always thought was a total waste of time. Turned out that the jury agreed, because they refused to reach a guilty verdict, so all three women and the guy running the show got off. Normally - as you'd expect from a police officer - it pisses me off when those whom we have brought to trial get off with a not guilty verdict. But on this occasion I must confess that I was actually glad. I have always felt that we have better things to do with our time than worry about the consenting adult stuff. Fortunately, these days the vice squad's efforts are mostly focussed upon paedophiles and sex slavery cases, which is what we should have been doing all along.

Anyway, I hope your readers enjoyed my contribution.


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Dear Wet Carpet,

I've known about you for a while and kept putting off writing to you because I was nervous. But it's time to confess.

I love peeing. I love holding it until I just can't hold it anymore and letting it burst out of me, spraying hard against my clit and soaking my panties. In fact, I'm holding it right now and I don't even know if I'll make it through this letter without an accident.

I usually wear skirts when I go out so if I have an accident, it's easier to conceal it. Just earlier today I was waiting in line at the bank after having two cups of coffee and a bottle of water. There were a lot of people in line and I was worried I might wet myself in front of everyone. But I managed to hold it, squeezing my legs together as best I could. I was finally squirming as I stepped up to the teller. As she completed my transaction, I had to hold myself, feeling like I could burst at any second.

Oh... I just felt a wave of pressure. I may end up soaking this chair before I'm done.

Anyway, she finished my transaction and I hobbled out of the line. The bathrooms were down the hall at the other end of the building. I knew I wouldn't make it. I made my way to the exit, feeling spurts of warm pee soak my crotch as I ran. Right outside the door, I couldn't hold it anymore and I stood in a patch of grass as my pee burst out. I kept my legs together and enjoyed the warm pee as it sprayed against my crotch, soaking my panties and trickling down my legs.

Mmm... It's almost there. I can feel it like right on the edge of coming out. I'll try to hold on a little longer.

I wet my bed sometimes, too. Not every night, just if I wake up in the middle of the night and I'm too tired to get up. My bed is protected. I usually don't even move from however I'm laying. I just sigh and let my bladder go, peeing fully into my bed, soaking the sheets and blankets. There was one night I scooted my bottom over the edge of the bed and peed onto my bedroom carpet. I'm glad I'm not one of those wet-in-your-sleep people because I like to be awake to enjoy it.

I'm holding myself with my fingers now, but I don't think it's going to help much. My fingers are already a little wet.

I have this fantasy where I'm at a ball and I'm wearing one of those big gowns, the kind that are all big at the bottom, like they used to wear in the Victorian Age. I have to pee really bad, but all of the bathrooms are occupied. I can't hold it anymore, but I think to myself, I wonder if anyone would even know if I peed in this dress. So I let go while I'm dancing with a guy and I feel it get hot and wet between my legs. I wait for the drips down my legs or for someone to comment on the puddle at my feet, but none of this happens. I've discretely peed myself and no one knows.

Okay, I can't hold it anymore. It's spurting through my fingers. I'm just gonna go right here in my chair. Ohhh, it's so warm. I'm keeping my legs together and soaking the cushion of my computer chair. It feels so good as it tickles my clit. I wish you could feel how hot this is. My pee is spraying against my thighs and soaking the chair.

I'm sorry but I think I need to sign off now and take care of another need. I'm sure you'll be hearing from me again.


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Dear Wet Carpet Magazine,

I'm not really going to say much about myself, I'm here for some help about a dream I had. It was a few days ago and I've been trying to research it online when I ran across your page... so here it goes:

I'm lying in bed before school and my sister comes in to wake me up, she throws my sheets off me and grabs my arm to drag me into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. "You're going to be late if you don't hurry!" She's saying this as she removes my sleeping boxers and kneels in front of me, "C'mon and pee already, I'm hungry!"

I groggily rub my eyes and relax, my stream comes out thick and sprays around but it lands mostly on the floor. She watches and smiles until I finish. After a few moments she smacks my right thigh and leaves, "Mom'll have breakfast ready in less than five."

I drag myself out of bed and get dressed. I put on my skirt but my bra won't fit no matter how I fuss with it so just put on a button front shirt and it barely fits too. I leave a few buttons open so I can breath. For some reason three, I remember that really clearly. I'm almost falling out of this shirt and that fourth button is straining. Anyway a bit of a blur then I'm downstairs.

Mom's there in just her apron topping of my sister's cereal whilst peeing on the floor where she stands. When I sit down Mom tops off my bowl whilst now holding a glass to her golden tufted muff. She gets it about half full and fills the rest with apple juice before drinking it. My plate looks pretty phallic, eggs over easy flipped the way I like, a sausage set between them point at two strips of bacon that are set in an elliptic shape. I can't figure out if my Mom's clueless or if my sister has something to do with that. Another blur later and I'm getting on the bus.

The only open seat is next to Brittney, however Sasha and Andrea are already standing there soaking one tit each with their streams and Tonya was waiting... Thankfully Stacy sees me and plops down next to Brittney, pops her shirt open and lets Tonya relieve herself. I sit down in Stacy's spot then it kinda blurs again to first period and I'm in my desk. Miss Waters is lecturing, but nothing makes sense, "The economy of the human bacteria system is failing gymnastics due to... something, something..." Not important. Miss Waters walks over to Sasha desk, unbuttons her jeans and lets loose. She drenches Sasha shirt, her notes, textbook, everything, just through the fly of her pants. When she was done, Miss Waters left pants undone and returned to the front of the class to change the slide she had been explaining the whole time she relieved herself.

At this point the principal came in to talk to Miss Waters, which was fine since there was another time skip and class almost over. The principal stood talking to Miss Waters for about a minute when she began to adjust her business skirt upwards. She kept shuffling higher until small thong was visible, then reached down and moved it aside letting a huge dick drop from behind it. Seriously this thing was half the length of her thigh and bigger 'round than a banana. Miss Waters slowly knelt down and opened her mouth as the principal hiked the monster up and placed the head on her lower lip. Miss Waters extended her tongue to help support it as the principal started peeing in her mouth. She was doing a good job at swallowing, which made it odd that I could still understand her words.. that was before she moved to lock her lips around the whole tip. Using her hands she fed the length into her mouth slowly. Miss Waters looked much less distressed and was no longer swallowing. If I had to guess she had moved the principal's dick deep enough that the warm fluid was going directly down her throat. The principal kept talking and had crossed her arm under her ample chest as Miss Waters did the best to nod along as a show of understanding. The principal gripped the back of Miss Waters' head and slowly forced her cock further and further... Just as it was about to go all the way, the bell for class rang... which was actually my alarm going off.

So there you go. I can't figure out what it all means, in fact there are a few things that really bug me.

1) My sister never wakes me up, its always my Mom.

2) I have a C-cup... the ones in my dream were three times that size. (Not three cup sizes, 3X)

3) Our principal's a guy, in fact everyone in my dream is a girl.....

I'm a little confused, Any Advice?

Mod edit by steve25805. Sorry Hentaixt. I know that unlike PS we have no hard and fast rules regarding incestuous material, but we are expected as mods to excercise a little judgement in such matters. So I have made some minor edits to remove some overtly incestuous pissing scenes between mother and daughters and between sisters, replacing them with less overtly incestuous pissing scenes. I hope you do not feel that this diminishes your "letter" too much. Great contribution, by the way.

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Dear Wet Carpet Magazine,

A while ago, I wrote about losing a friend because of my wetting habits after the two of us peed in a taxi cab. Almost right after posting my letter, my email blew up with messages from people who were sympathetic and had even had similar experiences. My favorite, though, came from a girl named Alissa who didn't live far from me and offered to meet up. She even said, "I can send a cab to pick you up." At first, I was reluctant. What do I even know about this girl other than that we share a fetish? In an act of foolishness, I gave her my address and we made plans for that coming Friday night.

When Friday finally came, I was so excited and nervous my stomach hurt. But remembering why we were meeting up, I chose my wardrobe carefully, a knee-length black skirt made of thin fabric, a pair of black lacy bikini panties and stockings to match, and a low-cut faux velvet purple top. Since I'm terrible with heels, I picked out a pair of nice flats that strapped snugly over my feet. To test my outfit, I stood in the bathroom in front on the full mirror. I admired my full figure in the skirt and top, my breasts and bottom my two best features. Then, I sighed and emptied my bladder, keeping my legs close together. I listened to the soft hiss as I filled my panties with my warm pee, feeling it trickle down my legs and drip over my shoes to make a puddle on the bathroom floor. But I never took my eyes away from the mirror, watching for visible signs of wetness. But other than a barely noticeable shininess appearing on my legs, none could be seen, Perfect.

At 6:00 exactly, a shiny silver Chrysler 300 rolled up in front of my house and honked its horn. I stood at my door, looking through the window confused. This wasn't a cab. Was this my ride? Another honk, a little more impatient this time. I opened my door and as I did, a man in an unmistakable chauffeur's hat stepped out of the driver side and walked to the passenger rear door.

"Miss Darla?" he said. I paused, still very confused by all of this.

"Yes?" I said.

"You're ride, ma'am." He opened my door and motioned for me to enter. In another move of either curiosity or foolishness, I got in. He shut my door and I thought, This is it. I can't turn back now, whatever this is. A few seconds later, he opened his door, sat up straight in the driver's seat, and pulled his door shut. "Good evening, ma'am," he said. "My name is Markham. Miss Alissa has asked that I you relax and make yourself comfortable. Refreshments are available in the console drawer in the middle there near your feet. On our way, I will be raising the partition window so you may have privacy. If you need me, just press the white Call button on your door."

"Umm... okay? Where are we going?" I asked

"I'm transporting you to Miss Alissa's residence," he said. "She has asked that you relax and enjoy your ride." At that, the tinted partition window between the back seat and the front rose slowly, assuring me that I probably wouldn't get anymore answers about our destination.

I opened the center drawer and inside were bottles of natural spring water, small packages of almonds, and several packages of peanut butter crackers. I grabbed a water, popped the cap, drank it down quickly. I was planning to prepare for our night out, wondering if "Miss Alissa" was also filling her own bladder in preparation. And was she as nervous as I was? I doubted it. This whole set-up suggested a confidence I envied. First, I didn't expect luxury. I expected a taxi-cab, dingy and dirty, with a scruffy old man at the wheel. Not that I minded. Markham wasn't bad looking, the car was comfortable and spacious, and my anticipation was growing.

So was the pressure in my bladder. I pressed the white button and waited. A few seconds later, a clicking sound came from a small speaker in the door. "Yes ma'am?" Markham said.

"How much farther?" I asked. "I need a bathroom soon if it's going to be a long trip."

"As I said ma'am. Miss Alissa has asked that you relax and make yourself comfortable as I transport you to her residence. We won't be stopping for a bathroom break." My mouth opened in surprise, but it quickly turned to a smile as I realized what was going on here. Alissa, if that was her real name, not only shared the same fetish but was allowing me an opportunity to indulge in mine.

I sat up in my seat, my legs tight together, feeling the pressure grow in my bladder. I knew I wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.

Alone in the back seat of a stranger's car, I played a little fantasy in my head.

Alissa saying to me, Just go here. I don't mind.

But I'll soak your seat, I say. I have to pee so bad.

It's okay, she says. Just go in the seat. You'll feel so much better.

"Oh god, I can't hold it," I said, out loud, as I spread my legs and let go completely, my warm urine spraying against and through the crotch of my panties with a loud hiss. I gasped as I could feel it soak through my skirt and into the seat under me. I was so overtaken by the pleasure that I reached my hand to my crotch and pressed, pushing the material of my skirt against the continuing flow, not caring that I was now soaking the front of my skirt as well. I rubbed myself until I felt the familiar tingle of an oncoming orgasm. I panted and rubbed harder as my flow dwindled. I could feel my climax building and I knew I would scream. I didn't care if Markham would hear me or if anyone outside would hear me. I rubbed harder, feeling my panties through the fabric of my skirt and sliding them aside. The coarse feeling of the skirt fabric against my vagina and clitoris was enough for me. I cried out and thrust my hips as I climaxed, gasping and panting with pleasure.

When I finished, I slumped into the seat, satisfied and relaxed. I felt a soft trickle of pee soak my skirt again and I smiled.

The speaker clicked again. "Almost there, Miss Darla," Markham said.

"No rush," I said.

More of the story later. Thanks for sticking with me this long.


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Thanks Wetwulf - certainly looking forward to more installments with Darla.

Hentaixt, that was a very different type of story and very intriguing. I wonder if any of those dreams might come true......?

Steve, that was a great letter with a CID perspective and very interesting to consider how someone in CID might almost lead a double life.

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Dear Carpet Magazine,

It finally happened. For a long time I had hid my wetting pleasures from my husband. But last week a circumstance revealed everything to him and led to some great sex, as well.

We were on our way to the beach for vacation when we hit traffic about six hours in. A line of cars as far as we could see as traffic came to a dead stop. My husband turned the radio on to a local station. Apparently, there was a serious SUV-meets-semi wreck ahead of us and no one was sure how long it would take to clean up the mess.

The worst part of this was that we had just been talking about finding a rest area to pull off and use the restroom. Both my husband and I had voiced our growing need and decided to pull off at the next rest area. Now, this plan seemed hopeless as we were stopped in a line of traffic with no sign of moving any time soon.

"Babe, I really need to pee," my husband said, squirming in his seat.

"Me too," I said. I tried to hide my smirk as I watched him squirm and felt a tingle between my legs. The idea of my desperation combined with my husband's was turning me on a bit, but at this point I wouldn't dare tell him.

Traffic began to ease forward, but then it came to a stop again. We had been sitting pretty much in the same spot for thirty minutes. A few cars ahead of us, we saw some people getting out, most of them peeking down the highway, trying to see an end to the line of traffic.

As we watched them, a young man, maybe 25 or so, walked to the side of the road near the treeline. As he stood there, alhough you couldn't see his penis, it became clear to anyone watching that he was peeing into the grass. As he continued, the rear door of the same car opened and we could see two legs, obviously female, followed by a clear stream of pee that splattered onto the pavement next to the car. We never saw her face, but her vagina, legs, and strong stream of pee were hard to miss.

I looked over at my husband as he watched, eyes wide. Then I noticed the unmistakable bulge in his pants. Feeling daring, I spoke up.

"Uhh, they're so lucky. Wish I had the guts to just hop out and pee. I have to go so bad."

"I know," my husband said. He winced again and I could tell he really did need to go.

"You could probably get away with it. If you really need to go, just run up there to the trees and pee. No one will see anything."

"I can't," he said. "I've never really been able to go when other people are watching."

"Awwh, how sweet. My husband is pee shy. I had no idea." He rolled his eyes at me and then grabbed at his crotch again. "How would you feel if I hopped out of the car and peed, then? I'm about to explode."

"No," he said, "I don't want anyone to see you." I really did have to go, but I admired his protecting me. He didn't want anyone else to see my body. But with my (and his) desperation growing, we were running out of options.

"I really have to pee, though. And I'm pretty sure you do, too. If we don't go outside, you're going to end up with a wet car." He groaned again and I could tell that his desperation was serious.

This was when, in a moment of boldness, I decided to confess.

"What if I told you that this was all making me a little horny." He looked at me, eyes wide again.


"All this talk about peeing... and seeing those other people peeing. It kind of... makes me hot. And by the look of the bulge in your pants... you're kind of liking it, too." I reached over and unsnapped his jeans, then slid the zipper down.

"What are you doing. Oh, god..." I pulled the front of his boxers down and now his penis poked out, fully erect with what looked like a few drops of pee on the tip. Maybe he had been holding back some spurts as we sat here.

"You obviously can't hold it anymore. What if we just peed ourselves together right here in your car? The windows are tinted. No one would see." I scooted up in my seat, hiking my dress above my waist so he could see my pantie-clad bottom. "How would that feel?"

"So... good," he panted. I reached over and took his penis in my hand and at the same time placed my husband's hand at my crotch. I smiled as he pulled aside the gusset of my panties, staring lustfully at my moist vagina.

"Just let go, baby," I whispered. With a deep sigh, my husband squirted a warm jet of pee from his still-erect penis. It sprayed up and splashed back down all over my hand and the crotch of his pants.

"Ohhhh," he moaned. "That is so... uhhh... much better." Obviously getting turned on by this, he began to stroke my vagina with his fingers. Finally, I could't hold my own pee any longer and I let go, spraying warm urine into the car seat and all over his fingers. He did not miss a beat, though, as he tickled my clit with his fingertips, still peeing full force on my hand.

I cut off my flow and took his hand away. He looked disappointed until I climbed over the console to his seat and straddled him. He also stopped peeing as I scooted up onto his lap and grabbed his penis, slipping it easily between my pantie crotch and into my awaiting vagina.

I rode him swiftly and tenderly. It didn't take long for both of us to climax as I allowed him to pump his semen into me. He groaned and pulled me close to him, gasping and panting.

"I still have to pee," he said, as we sat there holding each other.

"Go ahead," I said. Then, I felt his warm pee envelop my crotch as he peed inside of me and then slipped out, still peeing as his warmth soaked us both. I kissed his neck and sighed as I released the rest of my pee, adding to our soaked crotches.

"Traffic's moving," he mumbled. I climbed off of his lap and back to my seat. We started to move at a slow pace, but we were moving. We both glanced at each other a few times, knowing that this would not be our last wet experience.



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A letter inspired by another of Leaky_Ones's great stories.

Dear Wet Carpet

My name is Alice, and I'm a petite 25 year old manageress at the local gym. And my job gives me certain opportunities. You see, I have always had a thing about peeing. I just find it so erotic. I love being peed on - by women as well as men. And I love peeing on other people, women as well as men. There is in fact something quite empowering about squatting over someone's face and peeing in their mouth. But I also just love being the kind of dirty bitch who just pees any fucking where, lol. It's just so dirty and naughty, yet erotic, to just pee wherever the hell you like. At home I will sometimes just pee on the kitchen floor and things like that. And there is something quite sexy about ignoring the toilet that's right there and letting loose all over the bathroom floor instead. But the gym gives me some of my best opportunities - without the hassle of cleaning up.

You see, I am not the only one. There are a couple of other girls into this sort of thing too - and one of them is the employee responsible for cleaning up after hours, so she deals with the mess. She is called Natalie, and the other girl - her girlfriend - is Clare. After hours, I often enjoyed peeing on the floor in the shower units, and sometimes just in the changing rooms. Natalie never commented that someone was occasionally peeing on the changing room floor, though as the person who hosed the place down she must have noticed. But then, she and her girlfriend Clare were probably adding to it much of the time - which I discovered by pure chance one day.

I had already left and driven half way home before realising I'd left my purse behind. So I had to return. But upon entering I heard laughter in the changing room and girls talking. I recognised Natalie's voice but heard another girl too who turned out to be Clare. I decided to approach fairly quietly to see what all the fun was and entered the ladies' changing rooms. And could barely believe what I had stumbled across. Because both women were sat naked upon the bench with their legs apart, pissing far out into the room and over the floor, apparently having some kind of distance pissing contest.

Not sure who was the more shocked, them or I. They stopped pissing immediately and closed their legs, looking embarassed and anxious. But after my first few seconds of shocked surprise, I realised that what I'd seen was sexy as fuck - and I myself regularly enjoyed pissing on the floor too, anyway. So I smiled and laughed, and said, "Feel free to carry on. I'm not bothered." They looked uncertain to say the least, so I smiled and said, "Who else do you think has been pissing on the floor in here sometimes?" A flicker of sudden realisation flashed across Natalie's face, but to prove it to them I pretty much ended up lowering my gym shorts and panties, squatting right there, and pissing all over the floor myself. It was actually great fun having an audience while I did it.

That was a long while ago now, and since then the three of us have often enjoyed ourselves by pissing all over the place after hours. Not only in the showers and all over the changing room floors, but in the sinks as well. We've also peed all over the floor in the main gym, and against the walls in the corridors. And just about anywhere else really. It is actually great fun to just stand and piss in someone's open locker. Sounds great as it splashes against the metal sides.

But there has been another interesting development recently. Yesterday, one of our older members approached me with a stern face, complainingg about another woman whom she'd seen pissing in the sink. She knew the woman's name, a girl in her late 20s called Angela. Well I had to promise to have a word, but was intrigued. The toilets are some way from the changing room, so if she'd thought she was alone she might have simply done it out of convenience. I got a flutter of a thrill just thinking about it, though, and was actually looking forward to speaking to her about it.

As she tried walking past my office she looked rather sheepish - clearly she knew she'd been spotted, and chances are that that old trollop had decided to moan directly at her. But I opened my office door and called her in to have a word. She looked both embarassed and apprehensive. I told her that there had been a complaint about her supposedly urinating in a sink and asked if this were true. She admitted that it was, became all apologetic and said that she'd seen Fiona - another member - doing it on a previous occasion and just felt the urge to do it herself. Well that was news to me as well. Fiona too sometimes pees in the sinks. Will have to speak to her about that sometime. Maybe she is another potential recruit to our little circle of ladies who like to piss everywhere, lol.

Back to Angela, though. I took a risk and told her it was no big deal. She wasn't the only one. I told her I peed in the sinks too sometimes and that there were a few of us who liked to hang around after hours just to let our hair down by pissing everywhere. I could see that she was interested in this information in all the right ways, so I openly admitted that we pretty much did it for fun.

"What about the mess?" she asked.

I told her that the cleaner, Natalie, was one of us and the place was pretty much hosed down every night anyway. She was both incredulous and excited - I could tell - when I told her about how much fun it was to piss in the lockers. There was uncertainty in her expression too, though. Clearly she was struggling to believe what she was hearing. And I actually needed a pee anyway, so I said, "You don't believe me, do you. OK, watch this!" I went and locked the door, then pulled my seat from behind the table, quckly lowering and stepping out of my gym shorts and panties. I then sat on the front edge of the chair with my legs open, and started pissing right there on the office carpet in front of her incredulous gaze.

My golden piss pattered down onto the carpet, creating an ever-growing damp patch. "You see? You're not the only girl around here who likes to piss in naughty places."

I carried on pissing as I explained, "I'll just tell that old lady that I gave you a hefty fine. Best advice is that you be more careful who you piss in front of."

I gazed down at the yellow torrent pattering down onto the carpet, the splashing sound now louder as the carpet became increasingly sodden. Then I looked at Angela and grinned. And invited her to take a piss on the carpet too. And pretty soon, she was squatting in the middle of the room and pissing on my office carpet as well.

Afterwards, we looked at the mess on the carpet and laughed, before high fiving each other. I suggested she join us after hours sometime. She said she would. And that's something I am very much looking forward to.


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Dear Wet Carpet Magazine,

My name is Jemma and I am a 22 year old student at college in a small city studying European Languages and you could say that I enjoy a good night out. Being a student, I can't afford accommodation in the centre of the city, so I live about 2 miles out with my flatmate, Vicky who is on the same course. This is fine for college as we cycle in, getting a bit of daily exercise and it only takes about 10-15 minutes.

In our first week of living in the flat, Vicky and I went out on Wednesday night to get to know the city and meet up with other students. It was Student Night and drinks were reduced in price in various pubs in the city. We kinda knew that we'd drink copiously so we decided to walk in as we didn't fancy riding our bikes home on busy roads when we were drunk! It is not too bad - it took us about half an hour to walk into the city when sober, but after copious amounts of drinking, we were struggling on the way back at around 1am - it had been half an hour since we left the last pub, our feet were aching and to top it all, we both REALLY needed a wee. I'm not averse to peeing outside, but I wasn't about to drop my knickers on the side of a busy road and in anycase, I didn't know what Vicky would think about it, so we struggled onwards. I remembered that our route passed a pub which had been closed down and boarded up. I wondered if it might be possible to sneak round the back to gain the much needed relief that I craved, but I still wasn't sure what Vicky would think. By the time we got to the abandoned pub, I was struggling to hold it, so I threw caution to the wind. I knew Vicky was in a similar state and we were both very drunk, so I simply said "I don't know about you, but I've got to pee NOW or I won't make it home dry. Let's nip behind this pub." I was relieved (pardon the pun) to hear her respond with "That's the best suggestion you've had all night - I'm bursting!"

So, we headed up the drive that went to the side of the pub and round the back of the building out of site of the road. There was a covered deck which was secluded from the road, so I immediately headed up the steps, lifted my skirt and slipped down my knickers as I dropped into a squat, pee erupting from my eurethra before I even got into position. As my pee was washing over the deck and I was sighing with the relief, I noticed that Vicky had not come with me, but had instead continued slightly further and was just entering a shed which was opposite the deck. The door was hanging off its hinges and I could make out that there were various things strewn around the floor. Vicky was turning towards the door as I saw her hitch up her skirt and slide her knickers down. Then I heard a metalic noise like pouring water into a stainless steel sink, followed by a pattering. I could just make out in the moonlight that her glistening stream was flowing forcefully from under her and battering on a discarded fire extinguisher before running off the edge and onto the carpet tiled floor. As I finished my own pee and glanced down at the sizeable lake that I'd produced, I pulled up my knickers and walked over to the shed. It seems I need not have worried about what Vicky thought about me peeing outside - she had an ecstatic smile on her face as her pee was washing all over the assortment of abandoned stuff on the floor and onto the carpet tiles beneath. She raised and lowered her self to direct her stream over paint tins and stacks of paper as well as directly onto the carpet. I must have looked a bit aghast as she apologised saying "Sorry Jem, I couldn't pee outside I needed a bit more privacy", but I could see that she was really enjoying it, so I pressed her further; "You are enjoying that though, aren't you?" "Well, hell yeah. It's all discarded junk but it is fun to piss on things and it feels so naughty, yet so nice!" To emphasise the point, she lifted her backside much higher and sprayed the last of her pee over the shelves on the shed wall behind her.

I sort of wished that I still had some pee left as for some reason I felt a desire to experience this myself. I continued to think about it for the rest of the way home and next day I talked to Vicky about it whilst we were eating a late breakfast (thankfully our lectures didn't start until 11am on Thursdays), asking whether she remembered what she had done and whether it was just because she was drunk. She was a bit embarrassed at first, but then admitted that she liked to pee outdoors and even indoors - any place that she shouldn't. "You should try it." she said, "I know, don't go to the loo before we head to college this morning and lets leave a few minutes early - we can call in on that pub again on the way." I tried to protest, but really I wanted to do this, so I very quickly gave in.

We were both wearing jeans and T-shirts for college as we headed out on our bikes. We soon got to the pub and cycled up the drive and round the back. I could see the decking still looked darker where I had peed and we went over to the shed, which we could see much better in the daylight. It looked like it had been a caretakers hut with a bench that had a vice on it, some drawers that maybe used to hold tools, and some shelves that still had half used paint tins, weed killer and the like. On the floor the carpet tiles were stained with various marks - not least a rather big mark from Vicky's pee last night. There were various bits and pieces on the floor and I could still see tiny wet puddles on the shelves. Vicky jumped up onto the bench and said "Watch this." She eased down her jeans and knickers together and squatted on the bench with her feet apart and her bum low to the bench. Very shortly she started a gentle stream which fell to the bench below her and started to pool before running off the front of the bench forming a waterfall onto the floor below. She leant backwards on her hands and increased the flow of her pee, which lifted into an arc and sailed across the shed, falling onto the shelves opposite. She moved around so her stream impacted several of the paint tins and other containers. There were some open containers of screws and nails as well, which received some of her golden flow. As Vicky's stream weakened, it fell short of the shelves and started pattering on the carpet tiles, leaving a line right across the shed as the pressure subsided until the last trickle fell back onto the bench. She pulled a tissue out from her pocket, wiped herself and tossed the tissue into the back corner of the shed amongst a pile of old catalogues. "Your turn" she said as she hopped down from the bench then stood up to pull up her jeans.

I didn't really know where I wanted to pee, but I did know that I really needed to pee and I had butterflies in my tummy thinking about it. I moved further towards the back of the shed and decided I might christen the catalogues. I pulled down my jeans and hovered my bum over the pile, holding the bench for support. It took me a minute to relax as I debated with myself whether I should be doing this. However, desperation soon overtook the situation and before I knew it, my pee was raining down on the pile of catalogues, soaking their pages and running down the sides onto the floor. Following Vicky's example, I moved around a bit to spread my pee about and wet more of the pile. Then, I felt the urge to grab a small empty cardboard box and held it underneath my stream, watching it fill up. The sides started to go soft so I pulled it out and put in on the bench next to me as I finished my pee directly onto the carpet tiles. I sighed with relief as the last drips fell and Vicky passed me a tissue, which I put to good use before discarding it into the corner with the other junk. As I pulled my jeans up, I noticed that the cardboard box I filled was starting to leak and pee was running slowly out of the bottom onto the bench. Vicky asked how I felt and I replied "I don't know yet, I think I'm going to have to try more of this to find out.........." She laughed and we surveyed the now very wet interior of the shed before jumping on our bikes and heading for college.

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