Carla - The Wet Angel (1)

Carla – The Wet Angel (1)Cresta’s note: I wanted to write a story with a central character to have a few different adventures. This first chapter is actually adapted from a story I found on the Internet, but I do not know the author’s name or where I found it. Thus, if the author objects, please get in touch. Just for the record though, I am not making anything out of it and I hope you are not miffed that I altered your work. It just seemed to fit, is all.
1. Margie’s First Accident Margie was enjoying the lovely sunny day. It had been a good idea to bring her daughter Jenny and their neighbours daughter Carla on a picnic. They had enjoyed their lunch and all the wine of course, and now the girls were talking a few yards away and she could sit and read. She loved the warm sun through her cotton sundress and the feel of the grass tickling her bare legs underneath. There was even one blade of grass just brushing her inner thigh by the leg of her panties. She could feel the material stretched like a thin membrane across her vaginal opening and the grass pushing at it from the outside. Then she realised why she was dwelling on the sensations between her legs. She needed to pee. There was a very definite pressure from within the folds her vagina, forcing itself into her attention. Well, she resolved, there is nothing I can do about it, I shall just have to be uncomfortable for a while. She tucked her skirt underneath her to stop the grass tickling and picked up her book to take her mind off it. The book was a good bodice ripper and for a while a warm tingle just behind her clitoris was even helping the mood a little. Soon however the need to go was becoming more of a nuisance. Sometimes she just got the urge and then it was no stronger for hours, but this time the feelings were worsening. Now it was a sharp nagging from the urethra and a full feeling was beginning just above her pubic bone. Normally she would have been actively seeking the ladies room by now, but there was no such facility out here, so she settled for a change of position. Laying on her back with her knees up moved the soft parts below her belly around and gave a little change in the sensation of pressure. Once again the book became an effective distraction for a while, but it was hard not to dwell on her need. Then the girls became a little more animated and a thought crept into her mind, If I am this bad, how are they? Then she remembered, they had both asked to go on the way over here. Remembering the girls relief was doing nothing to help and she forced herself to think of her book again, Take your mind off it, Margie. Don’t think of letting that warm flow erupt into your hot panties. Oh gods, that’s what I need, she thought. To let it all go. She had only read a few more pages when she found herself squeezing her thighs together. Her legs had unconsciously tightened up to apply pressure to her vagina. She forced herself to spread them wide again, leaving her burning urethra to cope by itself. The sudden openness gave her a chance to try to put the feeling of need away from herself for a little while. Lifting her hips slightly allowed her to feel as though it was a separate thing from herself for a few seconds. Of course she was showing herself under her skirt quite shamelessly. Luckily there was no–one but themselves in the whole area, or they would have seen her spread bum, covered in white cotton. Not only that but between her raised thighs would be a wide expanse of cotton gusset and the dark shadow of her pubic hair covering the bulge of her mons. At least they wouldn’t know that the stretched gusset was just showing the outline of a vagina in desperate need of a pee. But spreading herself couldn’t help for long, she couldn’t understand why she needed to go this badly. Grown women in their late 30s were supposed to have cast iron bladders weren’t they? She just had to find the will power to last until they got home, after all – it couldn’t get much worse now. She just wished for a few moments without the relentless pressure in her urethra. She could find the will power if it would just give a few seconds to collect herself. Then with horror she found her hand creeping toward her crotch. She sat up abruptly, she had almost clutched herself in public! That wasn’t the way to get a few seconds break, she would have been so embarrassed if anyone had seen her. But almost immediately she wanted to clutch herself even more. Sitting up had upset her bladder, it was aching badly now and suddenly pressed down toward her vagina like a stone. For a few seconds holding on took a positive effort and then the burning need relented to just the warm tingling ache. God she really wanted to go now! But oddly, she found herself becoming turned on by the situation. Her nipples, she noticed, were tingling as they rubbed across the material of her blouse. Her vagina gave the first twitches of sexual ache. It added to the ache of her bladder. She could call the girls and drive home and get to a toilet at last but the girls were enjoying themselves so much though, it would be terribly unfair to make them leave early. She had to hang on regardless of the pressure. She hoped it wouldn’t get any worse, but it wasn’t long since she last thought that and it already was worse, oh it really was. Thinking of other things was out of the question now, her bladder and her urethra would not be ignored. They were screaming for attention. Oh if she could just let out a few drops to ease the pain. Even sitting still wasn’t possible, nothing could make her comfortable. Once again she was lucky that nobody was close enough to see her fidget and squirm in desperate need. All she could do was shift from one bum cheek to the other, squeezing her urethral opening against either inner lip or clenching her thighs against the urge to pee. She was turned on though. After all she was rubbing her lips into the cotton of her gusset over and over and her panties were becoming damp with sweat. It would be soooo nice to make them thoroughly wet, she thought. Her hairs would be damp and glistening and peeking from the edges of her panties from time to time. The burning urge to explode into her panties was still getting worse! She wondered how long she could hang on for, there was still plenty of daylight left, but they would need time to drive home. Soon she was leaning hard forward to try to press herself into the floor and ease her aching urethra. She could squeeze herself down and work her vagina against the hard ground through her panties. The pressing need to pee continued, but the fact of doing something and making other sensations down there helped a little. What a position to be in she thought, caught out in an open field and desperate to go to the toilet! Her bladder felt terrible, almost as if it was about to burst. Oh god she thought I am bursting to pee, I am literally bursting to go! It may not just be a case of hanging on until she got home, perhaps she couldn’t hang on that long! but she couldn’t pee in public, she just couldn’t, no matter how much need she was in. She had to call the girls and leave right now. Jenny wanted to walk to the gate and have it ready open for mom when she rolled up in the car, so she set off walking. Carla wanted to sit in the car. Margie stood up to unlock the door and once again found herself wincing and concentrating hard on holding it as her bladder settled. She was flustered and clumsy trying to climb in and had to fight the urge to curtsey and twist her legs together as she bent down. She even gave in to the urge to squeeze her crotch for a second when she thought Carla would not see. Carla however quickly picked up on her friend’s mother’s odd behaviour. ’Aunty Margie are you alright?’ she asked. ‘No Carla, I’m not. I’m bursting for the toilet. I’m so close to wetting my panties. Ooh the pain. It hurts so,’ she admitted and had to give in and hold herself again. Carla asked ‘Why don’t you go by the wheel?’ ‘No, I couldn’t possibly’ she replied, but it sounded half hearted, she was so bad now that she doubted that she would make it home. Experimentally she opened the car door wide to see how much shelter it would give her and at that instant she felt her urethra fill with pee which nicely wet the lips of her vagina. It was instantly soaked up by the crotch of her panties. Her lips slid against each other in a lovely way and the feeling was almost too much. She pulled herself out of the car, trying not to relax. She squeezed up as hard as she could and stopped the flow but she could only stand the feeling of holding like that for a few seconds. ‘I can’t wait!’ she whispered as she frantically tried to claw up her skirt while dropping into a half–squat by the wheel. She didn’t care how much shelter she had, but hiked her skirt up and thrust out her panty clad pussy. She felt her bladder give a final spasm and found that even now she might still be able to hold it – aware how she must look. Then, a tiny wet patch appeared on her panties. Carla was watching her via the open window, and she got a good view of her dampening panties. Instantly, her hand slipped under her skirt, as she was also bursting for the toilet. She was suddenly afraid that Margie’s relief might set her off. But then again, rather than worry, why not get away with a few spurts here and there? Perhaps Margie would have been okay if she had known about Carla’s slow release technique. Many was the time whilst shopping she had been too busy to stop just to spray a toilet with piss. So she would wear two pairs of panties and occasionally just let a little bit go. Just a little, a tiny drop to moisten her crotch and feel good when she sat for a coffee. Then she would let a bit more out, and by the time she got to the car would have to change out of her sopping knickers. Once in a dry pair, she would end up getting them soaked in their own right by fingering her sopping bulging slit all the way home. Then pulling them to one side, she would stand behind the garage and piss all over the wall. Like Carla always said, no need for a girl to get desperate… Carla let go a quiet little gasp as the first little dribble of pee strained its way into her panties, then her fingers massaged the wetness around her pussy. She continued to watch the struggling of her friend’s mother and was hoping she would see a real performance. She flicked her hard little clit, then sucked the pissy juice from her fingers. Just don’t stop now, she thought. Margie’s urethral exit muscles were cramping in waves, and a sharp involuntary downward push that started somewhere in her abdomen forced a little more piss onto her crotch, which made her feel more slippery and hot. Yet she still could not let go. In the car, Carla stifled another moan as she pushed downwards against her bladder and more of her own piss oozed out, this time over her fingers and labial lips, which she wiped deliberately onto her panties. “Just do it, Margie,” said Carla encouragingly. “You’re in pain, no–one minds. I don’t care. It happens to (ooh) everyone. It happens to me! Just relax your bladder and let it out. Piss into your panties, Aunty Margie, make them wet. Just let go and then you’ll feel better.” Margie was frantic. “Oh God, I’m going to piss in my knickers. Ooh yes, I can feel it, I can’t hold it back any more. It’s so embarrassing, I’m so ashamed.” Carla tried again. “Come on, Auntie Margie, do it for me. I know it gets to that point where you can’t let it go, but you’ll feel so much better if you ease the pressure. No–one can see, except me, and it’s happened to me many times. Just think of running water and let your pelvic floor relax. Then once it starts and you feel the hot wetness in your panties, push hard and force out as much as you need to stop the pain. Just let it come.” Margie relaxed a little and through the desperate anxiety and embarrassment she wondered for a minute whether there might be something else in Carla’s tone than just a sympathetic friend. And on top of that, she thought, she’s seen my pussy, and my damp panties, but so what? Pain and pleasure are related, and suddenly Margie decided to let whatever was going to happen just happen. Fuck the consequences. She would piss in her panties, and sod it. A little wave spread across her and piss filled her urethra again. She looked down at the wet patch. “I’ve wet them a bit ohh and I am so bursting, but I can’t let it out, ooh I need to wet my knickers, I have to piss in… my… knickers… I am going to push it all out now!!” Then the dark spot suddenly spread and a jet of piss erupted from Margies panties. “Ohhhh Godddd I’m pissing my knickers! Oh its sooo warm and oohh the relief.” She gasped with an involuntary sigh as she felt the first proper gush of relief burst from her bulging labial lips. With her head tilted back and her eyes closed she let the water flow and flow, splashing the wheel and pouring under the car. She couldn’t stop herself from rubbing at her panty covered clit as the urine continued to pour out, then she pulled her panties up tight into her slit and stopped the fountain. Carla had a perfect view of her friend’s very sexy mom totally pissing in her sexy panties right in front of her. She pushed two fingers into her warm wet vagina and sighed gently as her orgasm filled her. She relaxed her muscles again and released some more piss to make her panty crotch good and wet. Her fingers rubbed at her clit a few more times then rearranged her skirt to hide the evidence, as Margie more or less did the same outside the car. “I feel better now Carla. Thanks. Don’t tell anybody about that will you?” “No of course not. It’ll be our secret. Did you let it all out?” “No,” said Margie, starting the engine, “but I think I can hold out now. Do you think these panties would dry if I kept them on? Or is that dirty d’y think?” Carla felt another quick rush through her. “No Aunty Margie. Keep them on. They actually feel good after you’ve, you know, had an accident.” They were almost at the gate. Jenny waved as they drove through and began to close it again. “You know a lot about it Carla”. “I have a lot of accidents,” replied Carla, “and after a while, you even get to like it.” Margie was curious, but then Jenny got back in, and the subject was dropped. For now. MORE LATER…
Cresta and unknown author, September 2000
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