The Rock Festival

By: Anni
Also available in these languages: [eng] [rus]

We were looking forward to this year’s Rock Festival, with a lot of new groups being expected, and a lot of old friends to be met.
We, that is, three girlfriends and me, were planning to stay for all three days, with the nights to be spent in our four tiny one–person tents. We had learned from last year’s festival that we should not bring with us too many spare clothes, as there would be no time nor space to change. At least we had decided to dress a bit more attractively, after our woollen–socks–and–sandals outfit had made us kind of outsiders last year.
This year, I decided to wear a plain black skirt, a bit less than knee–long and not too tight, together with black tights and ankle–strap sandals without heels. I chose a tight, dark–red shirt with long sleeves. My bra and panties were light blue – this color would change over time, as I was not planning to change my undies before the end of the festival.
We had learned that we would have to bring with us a lot of beverages, i.e. mainly water, but also beer and Bacardi Cokes and so on, for the evenings. However, after our arrival, I first had to go to the loo, and so had the others. We were a bit shocked by the queue to the portable toilets, as it was very early the first day, and not too many people had arrived yet. We waited desperately until it was our turn, and I felt that I should hurry in order not to let the people after me wait longer than necessary. However, it was very narrow in the toilet box, and I did not want to sit down where dozens of other girls had been sitting before. So I was squatting, trying not to lose my balance after having pulled down my pantyhose and panties. Of course I failed. I noticed immediately that I was peeing on my left foot, and then I noticed a bit later that I had also wet my pulled–down tights, and after leaving the box I noticed the wet hem of my skirt. Moreover, when trying to put on my tights again, I ripped a two–finger–wide hole in the left leg, resulting in a run from my ankle up under my skirt. This was not really a problem as I already had another run from my right heel up to my knee, but I hated not to be able to move as freely as I wanted to.
That is when I decided that I would not use the toilet anymore unless absolutely necessary, that is, for my morning digestion. Beyond that, anything else would be better than queuing for a dirty, dark hole, just to empty my bladder.
I had experience in peeing behind the bushes without taking off my pantyhose. So, during the first day, I just squatted down, held my panties to the side and peed through my pantyhose. It always dried in less than 15 minutes, as my pantyhose did not have a reinforced crotch. In the early afternoon, after a few less–known groups had made what I would call a terrible noise, I squatted down again, but while peeing I lost my balance and accidentally let my panties flip back while I was still peeing. Once my panties were wet, I did not feel the need to put them aside again, and just let go the rest. I felt a huge wet patch on the backside of my skirt, but the black cloth kept that accident nearly invisible.
It was hot and a bit too humid, so we drank a lot and then we tried to be among the first in front of the open–space stage. The front–center area had the best view without being fully exposed to the loudspeakers on both sides. Joking and kidding, it was easy to fill the remaining time until the first group started, and the area in front of the stage had filled up to a huge extent meanwhile. When I emptied my last plastic bottle of water, I was thinking through my options of getting rid of the fluid after it would have made its way through my body. I would certainly not manage to keep it in until the end of the concert, and I was not willing to give up my first–class place in the front of the stage. On the other hand, a moist feeling between my legs reminded me of my still wet panties, and I thought that another flow would not really make a difference. But I was not feeling any pressure yet, and I was enjoying the music and the mood.
The pressure came later than expected but still too early to make it to the end of the concert. I had planned to spread my legs and let it dribble down very carefully, to limit the damage to my crotch. However, the place had filled to the extreme– where I stood, anyhow, and there was not really a possibility to spread my legs. It would have been very flashy anyway, so that I decided eventually to accept wet thighs and wet shoes. There was no danger of the pee staying in my sandals, as these consisted of leather soles and a few thin straps only.
It had started to rain a bit in the late afternoon. Not too much to jeopardize the concert, but enough to turn a green meadow into a brownish and slippery ground. This had turned a huge part of my shoes and the tips of my pantyhose muddy but it kept additional patches absolutely invisible.
So, about halfway through the concert, I just let go. Once I had finally decided to pee where I was, it was really easy to enjoy the relief, plus the excitement of doing something so outrageous. A few times I was tempted to touch my crotch, just to feel the wetness. I had wet myself on purpose a couple of times before, even in public, but I have never done it so close to other people that were fully unaware of what I was doing. In parallel, I managed to really enjoy the music, with the last two groups being the best.
I did not notice anybody else doing something similar except some younger girl with a very visible patch on her light–blue jeans. It would have been a euphemism to call her tipsy – she could hardly stay upright. What she had in common with many other visitors, though, was her dirty shoes. Most of the people, just like me, had not expected any rain, and were facing muddy pumps, ankle–strap sandals and other formerly posh shoes. Nobody cared too much including myself.
It was well after midnight when I crept into my tent and fell asleep immediately, without even taking off my shoes.
My next morning’s body care consisted of brushing my teeth and washing my face, using a bottle of mineral water. I queued for the dirty toilets after breakfast, drank less and didn’t have to go to the loo before noon. We bought fish and chips, and a few cans of lemonade. Then we searched for a place in the woods to have a kind of picnic. It was easy for me to hide behind a bush where I again moved my panties aside and peed through my pantyhose. My pantyhose crotch had a lot of runs meanwhile so that it didn’t even get too wet, but now I could see the dirty–yellow stains in my panties from yesterdays’ accidents. That turned me on a bit, and I managed to press a last stream out of my bladder, resulting in a nice patch on my panties.
While a couple of really good bands played this afternoon, I just peed, without trying to keep my legs dry. I have to admit that I would have had enough space to leave the concert and to return to the same spot. However, it appeared to me that this was a better alternative than to waste 30 minutes in a toilet queue.
The last evening of the festival consisted of several bonfires with grilled potatoes, roasted marshmallows etc. The party was excellent, and a bit louder than the evening before. This night we thought we could drink some other things than just water. I remember having had a lot of sweet alcoholic drinks – stuff that I would never drink at home. Without really feeling drunk, I soon felt absolutely relaxed. When I had to pee, I did not even bother moving my skirt away. While sitting on a wooden trunk, I slightly parted my legs and felt the contents of my bladder flowing through my panties and hose. It ran down the inner side of my skirt and started to form a puddle between my feet. I could not resist the temptation to hold my feet under the stream, one after the other, to wash off a bit of the mud. My pantyhose reappeared at the tip of my left foot while on the right side my big toe appeared – I had not even noticed under the mud that the nylon had given up here already.
It was so warm that night that I slept next to my tent. The next morning I simply did not have the energy to find a clean way of peeing – I moved aside the skirt and peed while sitting on the ground. Thank goodness all of us had come with our own cars, and I had a few plastic bags in the car to cover my seat. I arrived home at 2 p.m., and then I entered the bathtub, ripped the crotch of my pantyhose open, peed through my panties and had a hot shower before I got undressed.
By: Anni