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Below you can find the list of all stories tagged Female Wetting sorted from newest to oldest. You can use page navigation at the bottom of this page, filter by author or tag.
I'm in the midst of holding it, all alone, and I'm already quite far into the game. I'm dressed entirely in black, my tightest jeans and a small black tee. I would prefer to be wearing more clothes, because when the time comes, there's just nothing quite as delicious as the feeling of all the hot wetness soaking me, through the fabric, first coming warm and quickly turning cold. But I'm not there yet. I've been gulping water and soda constantly for the past three hours. It's getting bad. My bladder is thrashing around like a dying fish– a big, heavy one. It's going to start hurting in earnest any minute now. I know my body quite well, having done this same thing countless times. Already I can feel my urethra…
Read →That night, when she came home, she was feeling very naughty.... But let's start at the beginning. Nicole was a very hot girl in her early twenties. With her long blonde hair, she was a typical cheerleader type– wearing the latest and tightest fashion around. Her favorites were a black lycra–spandex pair of pants, a thong (as long as it wasn't visible from any angle) and a matching black top (preferably without a bra, as gravity hadn't gotten hold of her nice breasts yet). And even though a push up bra would have fitted her well, she wasn't planning on wearing one tonight. She would have a lot of moments for herself and didn't want to be blocked from touching her nipples in any way. For the same reason she…
Read →It was late (past ten) one warm Saturday evening. My three friends and I had been out, strolling along the darkened streets of our quiet little town. Streetlights cast a pale yellow glow across the concrete that outshone the meager light of the moon. The song of the nocturnal city wildlife, you know annoying bugs and birds, was drowned out by our constant chatter and peals of laughter. Oh, but maybe I should tell you a little about my friends and myself first; and since I'm the one telling the story, it's only fair that I get first description. My name is Emily Armstrong and at the time of this story I was eighteen and a recent High school grad. I had long blonde hair that dropped to the middle of my back and…
Read →I've always been fascinated by a technique some women use as a last resort of holding back: sitting on their heels. In a recent post on a message board I learned that there was even a medical term for this, called "Vincent's Curtsy". This prompted me to write down the following true account: I once had one of my most erotic – if not THE most memorable – sighting of a girl sitting on her heels. I was fascinated beyond belief and every detail was burned into my memory. It was in a pedestrian zone, shortly after all the shops had closed and most people were heading back home. So was I, when I walked by this lady sitting NEXT to a bench in the middle of the pedestrian zone. She was sitting on her right heel and…
Read →(Based upon a true story) The narrow hallway in front of the theater was crowded; families, college students, high school kids, a few teachers, family, friends all crammed around and between each other. The ticket counter was at one end of the hallway, the performance reception, put on by a local arts association was at the other. That's where I saw Sarah that night. Working behind the reception table, serving punch to the many visitors, all alone, trying her best to keep up with the masses eating the cheap cookies, home baked cakes and drinking the fruit punch (non alcoholic, to my dismay). What made me notice her? I'd love to say she was the most gorgeous girl there but she wasn't. Oh, she was certainly…
Read →My wife knows of my watersport fetish (although it's not my only one. I enjoy bondage too) and even though it's not her favorite sexual activity she appeases me now and then, sometimes as a surprise. We had been talking about sex one morning, getting each other horny and preparing for later that evening. We had a dinner planned at my parent's house about 20 minutes away, and looked forward to coming home and playing with each other after that. (In southern California most driving is measured in minutes not miles, since the driving time is more related to the road you take, not the distance). Anyway, we talked about various things. Me licking her, nibbling her in sensitive spots, tying her up, etc. She asked…
Read →Melissa Barnes was running late for work. Her car was nearly out of fuel and she really, really needed to pee. She debated with herself about what to do. As a sudden spasm of her distended bladder came over her, she jammed her hand into her crotch to stem the impending flood. She rubbed her pussy, hard, barely getting control. It did not bother her that a small squirt of her golden fluid had escaped despite her best efforts. Melissa had always enjoyed peeing her panties, and just because it was not convenient was little reason not to enjoy it, especially if it was out of her control. She closed her bright blue eyes for a second, enjoying the feelings between her shapely legs. Melissa kept her ex–cheerleader's…
Read →Lisa Morrow woke up knowing something wasn't quite right. She had to pee really badly, but that wasn't what had awakened the voluptuous college senior. She glanced over at her companion. Sara Lennox was still fast asleep. Lisa puzzled for a moment, wondering what had awakened her. It was very quiet in the forest at this time of day. The first vaporous light from the breaking day penetrated the thick tree cover under which they had camped. The tent was still dark save the weak light from the glass covered candle lantern, itself burned to a nub. Lisa was just about ready to decide it was nothing and crawl back into the warm sleeping bag with Sara when she heard a noise. The sound was not loud but it did get her…
Read →Sheila was on her way home from college. She was sitting by window, alone in the train. She was looking forward to getting home soon; she hadn't seen her sister for two weeks. Sheila was a tall, slim, 19 year–old woman with well–sized breasts and long hair. She had very nice sexy butt and her pussy was really perfect, shaved into a slim decorated line. She was wearing white elastic trousers and a purple shirt beneath which was white lacy bra that was very sexy. On her sexy ass she was wearing nice white lacy panties, no thongs because she didn't feel comfortable with them in the train. Sheila was single; she didn't get on well with her last boyfriend because he was jealous when she was enjoying sex with other…
Read →Peeing for me is both erotic and political. It's erotic because I first masturbated when wiping myself after a pee and found that it felt good to wipe in a certain spot. Peeing is political because piss, in our society, must remain hidden, it's nasty and smelly, and most people just don't want to see or touch it. Well it just so happens that the political nature of pissing and the erotic aftermath have gotten all mixed up in one of my fantasies. Here for the first time I have set the purgative of my pen to this experience in the hopes of expelling it from the depths of my psyche. I had spend most of my 18th summer at the beach sun bathing, wondering how my body stacked up in the eyes of the indigenous gentry;…
Read →Tracy and Cathy were walking through the nature reserve, using it as a shortcut from the restaurant where they worked to the flat where they lived. Cathy was still dressed in her work clothes that consisted of mid–thigh black skirt, black tights and white blouse. Tracy had changed out of her skirt into a pair of blue jeans.. It was a warm day and before leaving work both girls had helped themselves to the remains of a half full bottle of white wine left by a customer. Neither was anywhere near drunk, but they were slightly merry. As they passed a small pond, Tracy nudged Cathy and said, "Dare you to go in with your clothes on." Cathy looked at her friend and then at the pond. If it wasn't for the wine and…
Read →Where Robert lives they have an agricultural show each year. There are pens of animals, rabbits in cages, plates of vegetables and flowers, tables of jam, a beer tent, lots of little girls and their ponies– all set around a marquee where they award the prizes. We only went for a quick look round after our midday snack hoping to be back for an afternoon in the garden. The field where the cars are parked being some distance from the show site we had to join a crowd picking its way through the heaps of dung left by the cattle. I spent ages along the row of cages with pets. Again there was a lot of dung. Moving on to the ponies I had my third encounter with this dung, which the country people seem quite happy…
Read →Watch now. This one is very visual. See her through my eyes, because she's a sight to behold, this woman, the heroine of my fantasy, and she's going to become even more so. She's been driving for hours, and she's bouncing up and down in the seat, she has to pee so bad. She's wearing a light summery blouse (with a bra, alas, but that may change) and cut–offs that are very short, her thighs are bare all the way to the tops, the skin warm where the sun hits her lap. The cut–offs are tight against her crotch, which is a good thing, but also a little tight across her bladder, which is a problem. Maybe she's undone just that button at the very top, but she doesn't dare unzip. The last place she could have stopped…
Read →Naomi Watson Naomi was running late. She was due to appear on the Tonight Show in half an hour and she was about halfway through her second grande cup of Starbuck's coffee. She loved Starbuck's coffee and today in particular, she needed her two large cups after a long and tiring day. But the fact that it was piping hot made it difficult for her to gulp it down. It was definitely worth the effort so she went ahead and drank. The studio was at the other end of town and she had to leave in five minutes. She was a conscientious driver and didn't like to drive with a cup in her hand. So she finished her coffee as fast as she could and left the caf'. It had been raining with the result that the temperature had…
Read →Saturday night and Lemonade was packed from wall to wall with gorgeous girls. Stella looked around her in wonder. Her London friends had been right; Lemonade was definitely Manchester's hottest lesbian nightclub. Quality tunes pulsed from the decks and quality girls filled every corner. Serious female talent stretched from the strobing dance floor to the secluded alcoves where several sets of faces were already pressed together. A girl, that was what Stella needed now. There was definitely enough to choose from. Some possibilities had already caught her gaze– maybe the strawberry blonde at the bar, or the little Chinese girl. Yes, the little Chinese girl in the even smaller tight white dress had definitely…
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All stories belong to their authors.
Contact: Sae.