Friends are Rare to Come By

[Note to readers: I prefer to keep my gender, sexuality, and general person a secret, as to not turn off some readers who might be turned off to a story before reading it, if they knew something about me, so just let your imagination wander, and enjoy!]
It was a gorgeous day, simply no other way to put it. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the air was warm and dry, with barely a cloud in the sky. It was the weekend, and the faire was the place to be! Games, rides, all sorts of fun! Everyone was there, including a girl named Amy. Amy was a darling, sweet girl. She was 5’5, 110 pounds, dark just–below–shoulder–length brownish–black hair, beautiful smooth ivory skin, a face that had just the right dimension, shade, and skin texture to look like a model, yet not have that same air of snobbishness, pert, b–cup breast, and a small, round bottom that went down to shapely, skinny legs. She wore a red embroidered spaghetti–strap top with deep–cut cleavage, and black dress pants, with some semi–dressy, though comfy shoes– when she went out, she went to impress! After purchasing a ticket, she entered the faire, and went to try some rides.
Amy was generally a girl without shame. That didn’t mean that she was a shameless flirt that loved groping guys, or for that matter, girls, whenever anyone was looking, or showing herself off for all to see. No, that meant she would talk to nearly anybody, didn’t mind explaining herself, and wasn’t that easily embarrassed. Though, she was a little naughty, in the sense that she had an affinity for watersports, especially wetting her pants. She had never really talked to anyone about it, and had never seen anyone else do it, save for looking at wetting sites online. That was actually the reason she wore the pants, it was because the material these pants were made of, all that was visible was shininess for a moment, then they looked just like dry pants. Well, her time at the faire was spent riding rides, and buying drinks, in fact, she had 4 giant cups of coke, and was getting a little fidgety… she decided to go wait in line for the restroom.
Many people were in line for the restroom. Amy often went to the restroom, stood in line, just so she could get in, and then pee with her pants on, and sometimes masturbate while still in the restroom. This line was so long, however, at her stage of desperation, she would most likely flood her pants in line. In front of her was someone who looked almost as bad off as she was. “I have to go…” said Amy, who was shifting from foot–to–foot by now.
The girl in front of her turned around, and Amy was struck by the looks of the girl. She was very beautiful, and in fact had most of the same features of Amy, just with slight variations, such as blonde hair, not brown. “I know how you feel. I’m bursting to go, I waited waaay too long. Now I’m afraid I’ll soak my knickers!” says the girl, who spoke with a British accent.
“I’m Amy, who are you?” She asked, and the girl replied, smiling, “Teresa” she said, and they caught each other’s eyes for a moment, before Amy said, “Teresa, you know, if we head off somewhere else now, we could try to find a private spot, so we aren’t so exposed.”
She noticed Teresa had a skirt on, and Teresa nodded before walking off with Amy. After a few minutes, they walked to the corner of the faire, behind a small tent, and Amy says, “I can’t hold it anymore, Teresa. Do you want to go now? I’m gonna go in my pants… someone might see if I pull them down.”
Teresa giggled. “If you wanna make your pants wet, go ahead. I’ll go through my panties!” She said, and squatted, pulling up her skirt. Quickly the crotch of her white panties went moist, and then a torrent of urine flowed through them onto the ground. Much of the wetness went up the crack of her panties, making her bottom feel warm. Amy watched intensely, and she started going as well. A flood gushed into her pants, coursing down the legs of her pants, and her own legs, and flowed out her pants cuffs, being absorbed by the ground.
Teresa grinned up at Amy and said, “Hey, you want my number?”
“Sure! Here, take mine!” They exchanged numbers… after all– friends are rare to come by.
A Wet Feeling (email welcome)