Wet Weekend 2023

[Rikki Bare 120]

This story contains clothes pissing indoors, in the car and in public. Also sexual behaviour.

By Rikki Bare

Part one Julie

I soaked my clothes with piss whilst sitting at my computer desk, when my best friend Sandra rang to invite me to come away for the weekend. This might seem an odd thing to do, so let me explain.

I’m Julie, and for a living I write technical manuals. I work from home 90% of the time so I don’t see people in the flesh most days. My home office is right at the top of my tall London town house and the toilet is three floors down. I work intensively on my computer for hours on end fuelled by constantly drinking coffee. I have a large coffee machine with a big water tank right on my desk. I have a weak bladder, no doubt made weaker by my lifestyle. As it is too much faff to go downstairs to piss in the toilet every hour or so I simply wee in my pants. I could wear a nappy, (diaper in the US) but then I would have to get up and undress to change it, also too much faff. So I just wet my clothes.

I only wear protection when I go out somewhere where wetting will not be tolerated, and will be away from a convenient toilet.

I regularly confer with colleagues on Zoom so I dress smartly on my top half, most usually in a cotton sweater or a thick dress. It doesn’t matter what my lower half looks like and they never know I am wet. I think better when I am not too hot and keep my room too cool to comfortably work bottomless. For work I usually wear jeans or thermal leggings.

My office chair is one of those really comfortable large swivel ones, well padded and with good lumbar support. I protect it with a thick bin liner and several folded towels. I keep a pile of these to hand and a laundry bin within reach for when my towel gets too saturated. I can sometimes get through four or five in the course of an intense writing stint.

So that’s me, back to Sandra’s phone call. She was enthusiastic but guarded, describing her partner David’s cabin in the west country and how we could be as wet as we wanted all weekend. She really wanted to meet Ronnie and I was to bring him with me.

Sandra said that we would see nobody who knew us. I had been dry up to that point but was pretty full, almost bursting. The thought of this wet weekend was so arousing I fingered myself through my tights and inevitably my bladder reached crisis point. I soaked the back my dress whilst still seated and then stood up and pissed intensely whilst talking with her. I was using a sensitive remote microphone and Sandra heard the gushing sound as my pee burst through my leggings and splashed onto the tiled floor.

“You sitting on the toilet?” She asked.

“No in my study drinking coffee and working.”

“Oh! I thought I heard you pissing?”

“You did!” I giggled, “I was already bursting for a wee and your ideas were the last straw. I had been holding on for the last hour. As I was planning to go shopping I was intending to remain dry and pee in the toilet when I went downstairs. I accidentally started pissing when I heard what you were planning and I stood up to let the rest of the flood out. Now I will need to change before I go to the shops.”

“Do you want me to call back?”

“No I’m cool. I can go out later, now my leggings and skirt are soaked I will savour the feeling until lunch time and go shopping after lunch.” I poured myself another coffee and sipped it.

“Tell me more about the plan”.

Sandra gave me more details and we planned the weekend. Before we finished I needed to pee again and held the mic down near my crotch whilst I did so.

“Did you hear that?” I asked Sandra.

She laughed, “yes I did you naughty girl.” Another laugh and the sound of pee splashing on the floor came from her end. “I can do it too! I’ve made a big puddle on my kitchen floor and my panties and shorts are soaked.” Sandra said gleefully. “I must remember to wear jeans when I make phone calls so people don’t hear me pissing.”

We made the arrangements that Ronnie and I would come to lunch on Friday and we would set off around three. “Bring plenty of clothes for the weekend, all sorts as we don’t know what the weather will be like. No nappies or other protection for you or Ronnie though, they are banned.” Sandra instructed me.

Having finished the call I changed the towel on my chair and sat down going back to working on the manual. A Zoom call flashed onto my screen and I discussed a tech problem with Helen whilst silently re-warming my cooling leggings.

Let me tell you about Ronnie.

I was wet when I met him. Not obviously soaked but wet enough that if he had accidentally touched my ass he would have known. Fortunately I was wearing newish black jeans and they could be really wet before it became visible. It was where I met him which made it OK. We were in the health products aisle of the supermarket and his trolley contained five packets of large men’s incontinence pants. I had already put a packet of small women’s in my trolley. so we both were in the same boat. Spotting me looking in his trolley he looked slightly embarrassed and, rather than lying about a fictional elderly relative, he said simply, “they are for work, I spend all day in a place where I can’t get to a toilet easily, and I have a rather weak bladder.”

I nodded, “I do too it can be inconvenient.” Then I felt really bold and admitted that I often peed in mine or just in my pants for convenience. I also said I liked his frankness. We got chatting and realised we had a lot in common. We bought coffee from a carry out stall and sat in a park for hours. During this time I had to pee again and let go through my jeans right there sitting on the bench.

Ronnie then asked me out for dinner. He said he needed to change his Depends first because it was at near capacity as he now wet it nearly all the time. I of course had to go home and change my soaked jeans.

I met him later at the restaurant. I had showered and was now wearing a jersey knit dress and leggings. I was also wearing a nappy (diaper). We had a great meal with lots of wine and didn’t use the bathroom once.

Things developed quickly and within three months he had leased out his flat and moved into my house. At first he wore a Depends at night but after I accidentally wet the bed a couple of times we protected the mattress and he stopped bothering. Wiping the rubber protector and changing the sheet was a lot easier, and far less costly. It also meant that we could go to sleep after sex without worrying and even pee during sex play.

Friday afternoon

Ronnie and I dressed smart casual for our weekend, travelling by underground train from our central London house to the suburbs where David and Sandra lived. I had bought Ronnie some new clothes which actually fitted him. His usual ones were very baggy to give room for the depends which he always wears. I bought new cotton boxer shorts for him to wear under chinos and briefs to go with some new skinny jeans.

As we neared the end of our underground journey Ronnie looked uncomfortable and clamped his legs together. “I’m missing my Depends,” he whispered. I spotted a small damp patch appear on his fawn chino’s and winked at him.

Giggling I said.”You are not supposed to do that until we are on our way.”

Walking from the station Ronnie looked round to see if anybody was watching before grabbing his crotch. Despite this action his damp patch was now quite big. I hugged him and tickled him. ‘Don’t do that I’m on the edge,’ he replied. We walked up the path to the house and I rang the door bell.

“Hi Julie, Ronnie” Sandra smiled and then looked down at Ronnie’s crotch as she greeted us, “Started already I see. Come in, and sit down, lunch is just ready.”

Ronnie gave his best, slightly sheepish smile. “Hi Sandra I know we are supposed to be having a hold-it competition, but when you gotta go you gotta go.” He added, “I’d better visit the toilet or I’ll flood your dining chair as soon as I sit down.” he headed for the downstairs bathroom.

When he reappeared he looked a lot more relaxed but the stain in his crotch was even bigger. He laughed, “It got snarled up in my boxers. My bum is still dry though so your chair will survive.”

Sandra and David had provided a great lunch with asparagus, coronation chicken and lots of salads. There were beers to wash it down although David, who was driving, had a large ‘zero alcohol’ beer.

Whilst we were finishing our drinks David went and stacked the dishwasher. When he returned he said “Lets go, remember the rules, We are having a hold it competition and won’t be stopping until we are nearly there and need to fill up the car. The first to pee will be the one to go in and pay, the second will pump the fuel.”

“Agreed, may the strongest will win.” I laughed.

“If they can be bothered,” Ronnie added and squeezed his crotch which had mostly dried. The squeeze brought out moisture from his boxer shorts and the stain reappeared. Bringing his fingers to his nose he inhaled deeply. “I give myself about ten minutes.”

Sandra and I just giggled.

“I think we should all get out at the services and show solidarity with the losers,” said Sandra pressing her hand into the crotch of her pink jeans and imagining how they would darken when they were wet. She had insisted that we brought only clothes that would show wetness and everybody had complied.

The car had been prepared with towels and plastic protection on the seats and floor and we settled in. I sat in the front passenger seat and the other two squeezed into the back seat of David’s small hatchback.

David wove the car through the London traffic before joined the M4 motorway. They had been driving Westwards in heavy traffic for some 20 minutes when I heard Ronnie turn to Sandra sitting beside him and say in a little boy voice, “I can’t hold it any more. I’ve just leaked in my pants. Any moment now I will be in full flood.”

Sandra replied with a laugh, “That’s what’s meant to happen.”

I watched her in the vanity mirror as she reached over and squeezed his crotch. “Hold on for a little while and I will help” She said unzipping his fly and burrowing into his wet boxers eazed his dick out through the fly and closed the zipper until his dripping penis was trapped pointing straight up. “Now you won’t be peeing in your pants. Go on you can let it all out now.”

“But it will go everywhere.”

“That’s right. It will go exactly where I want it to.”

“OK do your worst, I couldn’t stop now if I wanted to.”

Ronnie started to pee full force. At first it shot a foot straight into the air and splashed down on to Sandra’s hand and the sleeve of her dusky pink sweater. She move his penis slightly and sprayed his shirt and jacket. Then she moved it towards herself and it hit her on the shoulder running down inside her sweater and soaking her breast making it show through the thin knit of her sweater as it became became soaked.

I turned in my seat to get a better view and said to Sandra, “If you soak your crotch with Ronnie’s piss that will count as wetting yourself and I win.” She quickly pushed Ronnie’s penis away and stuffed it, still peeing, back into his pants and zipped him up. His piss now soaked the whole front of his chino’s down to his knees and ran onto the floor.

Sandra admitted that she was only just managing to hold on anyway. Leaning through the gap between the seats I inspect her jeans and had to agree that the piss dripping off her sweater and making a stain on her hip and pocket could not have been her piss and she was still in the game. My own pressure was rising fast and I really wanted to beat her.

Ronnie, who had been luxuriating in his soaked pants came up for air as his bladder was empty and unzipped himself to adjust his penis properly and tuck it inside his boxers shorts. “I’ll keep an eye on Sandra and report as soon as I see a wet patch,” he said as he zipped up his pants.

I smiled and gave him a thumbs up and settled back in my seat.

As my need grew I pressed my hand hard into my crotch to dispel a wave of pressure.

David was observing all this in the drivers mirror. He said nothing but cracked a wide grin. He looked relatively in control. His penis formed a sausage shaped bulge down his left leg. evidently he was commando, there was however a small drop of precum staining the light blur denim where the tip of his penis pressed against it.

I reached over with my free hand and stroked his bulge.

“if you don’t stop doing that I’ll make a sticky mess in my new jeans.” David glanced over at me and then winked at Sandra who was watching from the back seat.

I continued stroking him watching his sausage getting longer and harder. He drove us smoothly down the middle land of the six lane highway moving his leg around to get my caresses in just the right place.

 

To be continued. Who will wet next?

Edited July 13, 2023 by Rikki Bare
typo's

[wetwulf 3,324]

This is fantastic! I can't wait to read more!

[Stephen94 221]

Awesome story! 

[Rikki Bare 120]

Thank you guys. I have the next short chapter nearly finished and the rest mapped out but I have little time for writing so you may need to wait a while.

Rikki