Julie and Jessica: The Meeting

Jessica crossed her left leg tightly over her right. She took a deep breath and glanced at her wristwatch– twenty–five more minutes to go. She squeezed her thighs together as tightly as she could, then took another swig from her nearly empty water bottle.
These 90–minute lectures always seem to last forever, Jessica thought, especially when your bladder is full! She gulped down the last of her water as the twinges from below resumed. Jessica shifted in her seat and began to nervously bounce her left leg.
It had been almost a year since she had done anything like this. Jessica had renounced hold–it games when she went away to college. Such potentially embarrassing pastimes had no place at a university. This was a fresh start, and Jessica didn’t want to repeat the mishaps of high school. No more ignoring lectures because she was focusing on her bladder rather than the teacher. No more dribbling down her legs while laughing with friends. No more tying jackets around soaking wet jeans.
Yet here she was, in the back of a 150–student lecture hall on the verge of wetting her pants. Jessica had gone nearly two semesters at college without even coming close to having a public “accident,” but she was pushing her luck today.
She pressed between her legs with one hand, then uncrossed her legs and threw the right leg over the left tightly. The rapid movements in her tight Levi’s temporarily put enough pressure on her crotch to relieve the ache.
“Do you want one?” Jessica heard whispered over her left shoulder. The voice startled Jessica. She instinctively pressed her hand into her crotch to maintain control. She glanced over at the smiling, slender brunette sitting beside her. She held a bottle of iced tea.
“I’m sorry,” Jessica mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “What?”
“I said, ‘do you want one?’” the brunette repeated, whispering more loudly. “I noticed that you had finished your water.”
“No thanks,” Jessica replied, baffled by the question. “I have to pee so badly it’d probably make me burst.”
“Yeah, you look pretty antsy,” said the girl, extending her hand. “I’m Julie.”
Jessica uncrossed her legs and shifted her butt, then extended her hand for a brief shake. “I’m Jessie,” she said, quickly crossing her legs again and retracting her hand to press it against her lap.
“You must really have to go!” Julie said, still grinning. She picked up an open iced tea bottle and gulped down the last quarter of it. “I’m really starting to feel my bladder too. This tea goes right through me. I must be crazy to drink as much of it as I do.”
Jessica grunted in acknowledgment. She was more annoyed by Julie than anything else. Hold–it games were a private turn–on, and this girl was just interfering. Jessica’s pulse raced as she removed her left–hand from her lap long enough to glance at her wristwatch again. Twenty–two minutes to go! She quickly returned it to her crotch and pressed.
Julie opened the bottle of tea she had offered to Jessica and began to gulp it down. “When we took our midterm in here I drank like four of these in the class before this and forgot to pee before class. I was squirming as badly as you are now.”
“That wasn’t smart,” Jessica said uninterestedly as she rocked in her seat.
“Yeah,” Julie admitted with a smile. She gulped down more tea, leaving the bottle half–empty. “What was really silly though was the bottle of tea that I drank as I took the test. I was absolutely desperate to pee, and I drank an entire bottle of this stuff anyway. Crazy, huh?”
“Did you make it?” Jessica asked, uncrossing and then crossing her legs again.
“No,” Julie said without the slightest hint of embarrassment. She gulped down more iced tea. “I had to walk back to my apartment with my jacket tied around my waist.”
The statement shocked Jessica. It wasn’t even offered apologetically or sheepishly. This girl had just admitted to a complete stranger that she had peed in her pants in the middle of a college midterm– using the same tone that one uses to talk about going to the store. “Why did you drink so much tea?” Jessica asked.
“I don’t know,” Julie said with a shrug, then gulped down the last of her bottle of tea. “Why did you drink that whole bottle of water when you’ve been squirming ever since you walked in here?”
Jessica blushed. She looked down at her dark–blue Levi’s and pressed harder against her lap.
“I’ve got one more bottle of tea in my backpack,” Julie said. “You sure you don’t want to split it?”
“God, how many of those have you drank?”
“That last bottle was my third since class started.”
“I’m shocked that you aren’t as desperate as I am,” Jessica said, uncrossing her legs and squeezing her thighs together as tightly as possible.
“Believe me, when it all hits my bladder I’ll probably be worse. There’s a reason I’ve been keeping my legs crossed for the past five minutes.”
Jessica looked down at Julie’s legs and indeed saw the initial signs of a need to pee. In her own desperation she hadn’t noticed it, but Julie was keeping her legs firmly crossed underneath her checkered, thigh–length skirt and tapping her foot nervously on the ground. She wasn’t quite desperate yet, but Julie unmistakably had to go.
“Last chance for iced tea,” Julie said, pulling a full bottle out of her backpack.
“Oh hell, why not?” Jessica said, crossing her legs again and grabbing the bottle. She opened it, closed her eyes, and tipped her head back for several big gulps. The fluid was refreshing, but just the thought of it entering her system made Jessica’s need to pee worse. She quickly handed the bottle, now only about two–thirds full, back to Julie and looked at her wristwatch again. Nineteen more minutes!
“Atta girl,” Julie said with a giggle. She tipped the bottle back and gulped down all of the tea that remained. Jessica couldn’t believe the rate at which this petite brunette could consume fluids! “Now the fun part,” Julie whispered with a wink. She rested her hands on her lap and pretended to focus her full attention on the lecture.
Jessica pretended to do the same, but she was far too preoccupied to hear a word of the lecture. Her pulse was racing with excitement as her bladder screamed for relief. All the fidgeting, all the squirming, all of the leg crossing and crotch holding that Jessica could manage just weren’t enough to appease her bladder. She had no idea how she was going to hold on until the end of the period.
She looked down at her crossed legs and began to wish she had chosen a different outfit. Jessica hadn’t planned a wetting today, just a harmless hold–it game. She now realized that her clothes were not really suited for concealing an accident. Her jeans were dark–blue, and Jessica knew that if she peed in them the wet patches would be very noticeable. They were also tight hip–huggers, which meant they’d be difficult to get off quickly and the wet spots would spread fast. To make matters worse, she had chosen a red mid–drift top and brought no jacket to class. How Jessica wished that she’d worn a pair of black jeans! “Please hold on,” she whispered to herself as she squeezed her thighs together and pressed on her lap.
Jessica’s eyes again began to wander toward Julie, who was still pretending to give her full attention to the lecture. Her urgency to pee, however, was clearly much worse than before. Julie was now shifting in her seat while squeezing her thighs together every few seconds or so. Her left hand never released its steady pressure on her lap as her right hand attempted to scribble notes into her notebook. Her foot tapping had reached a frantic pace now and she bit her lip every so often. She glanced over at Jessica. “That tea hit me fast today,” Julie whispered. “I might not make it until the end of the lecture!”
“You aren’t the only one!” Jessica replied. She noticed that Julie’s red–and–black skirt was too tight to pull out from underneath her. If she had an accident at her seat, the skirt would surely get soaked and give her away. An interesting choice of clothes, Jessica thought, for a girl who obviously planned to push her bladder to the limit in class today. But Jessica had her own potential humiliation to worry about. She glanced at her wristwatch again. Thirteen more minutes!
Jessica suddenly remembered a trick that she had used in high school when she would play hold–it. She took a bulky textbook out of her backpack and rested it on top of her crossed legs. Then she began to press down with all her weight on the book. It clamped her legs together tightly and temporarily made the urge to pee subside.
Julie, meanwhile, had abandoned all pretense of note taking. Both hands were now firmly pressing on her lap at all times. She was continually shifting her weight and bouncing her crossed legs. Inside her shoes she was curling her toes and beginning to count the seconds until the lecture was over. Julie glanced over at Jessica. “Watching you do that makes me wish that I had brought my copy of War and Peace to class,” Julie said with a forced smile.
“Don’t you dare make me laugh right now!” Jessica whispered back.
“Don’t worry, I have to go too badly to be funny. How much longer?”
“Nine minutes,” Jessica said, pressing as hard as she could on the textbook. Julie closed her eyes and groaned quietly. “Maybe he’ll let us out early.”
“Not likely, Dr. Gothman normally runs over on his lectures.”
“Oh God, please tell me you’re kidding,” Jessica said, looking at Julie with horror.
“Would I joke about that right now? Haven’t you ever noticed it before?”
“I don’t usually wear a watch to class,” Jessica replied. Her heart sunk. The very idea of having to wait more than the nine minutes made the need to pee even more urgent. Jessica thought she felt a small squirt escape into her panties; she tensed her muscles and hoped that it was just her imagination.
“He doesn’t always run over, but I thought I’d warn you that he might,” Julie said, thrusting her pelvis in her chair and then pulling it back as she pressed hard into her crotch. “On the second day of class I was bursting and, you know, I kept counting down the minutes before I could go.” Julie paused to uncross and recross her legs.
“Yeah?” Jessica asked impatiently.
Julie took a deep breath and continued, “He ran three minutes over, but it might as well have been an hour. My bladder was so set on peeing when I had been telling myself that the class would be over that I lost control.”
“If you wet your pants so often in this class, why haven’t I ever seen you do it before?”
“You don’t normally sit in back,” Julie said, forcing a smile.
“Well, I might have to sit back here more often,” Jessica said with her own pained smile.
The two girls returned their full attention to their own individually urgent seated pee–pee dances. Jessica continued pressing on her crossed legs with the textbook, and even slipped one hand beneath the book to put direct pressure on her crotch. All the while she rocked in her chair and kept her muscles as tense as possible. Julie, meanwhile, was sitting almost sidesaddle in her chair with her legs crossed as firmly as her tight skirt would allow. Her hands were pressing against her crotch– but once again, only as much as her skirt would allow. Julie was really beginning to regret her choice of clothes. She felt a sudden burst of warmth in her panties. She gasped.
“You still dry over there?” Jessica asked.
Julie closed her eyes, clamped her thighs, and tensed her bladder muscles. The stream stopped after a couple of seconds, but she was immediately able to recognize the warm cling of freshly dampened panties. “Umm, sort of,” Julie replied after making sure she had stopped the flow. “But I won’t be for much longer. How long until class is over?”
“If he lets us out on time, two more minutes,” said Jessica, now virtually doubled over on her textbook with her shoulder–length strawberry–blonde hair hiding her face. “If he runs over, I’m not going to make it.”
“Me either.”
“How far is it to the bathroom?”
“It’s like three or four doors down the hall.”
“That sounds really far right now.”
“You’re telling me!” Julie said as she rocked on the corner of her chair. She felt another stream of pee warm her panties. This one was longer; maybe four or five seconds, and Julie could feel the wetness rapidly spread downward into her ass and inner thighs. Her panties were far beyond damp now, more like soaked, and Julie was aroused by the warm caress of them. She closed her eyes and pressed a hand against her crotch through the tight skirt, trembling with excitement.
Jessica felt the first hot stream of pee soak into her panties. She gritted her teeth and pressed her fingers firmly into her crotch. The flow stopped after a few seconds, but her hand was now pressing against moist denim. “Hurry up!” she mumbled under her breath. The professor continued to write on the board. A third warm flood of pee saturated Julie’s already drenched panties. She felt the dampness soak into her butt and spread further down her thighs. The front of her skirt now showed a quarter–sized wet patch where she had been holding herself, and she knew by the way the fabric clung to the contours of her ass that the back of her skirt was already soaking wet. Julie seriously considered letting go of the flood right there. After all, it would be obvious that she had peed in her pants anyway. Just as she prepared herself to do it, however, the professor put the chalk down, and all 150 students began getting up and leaving.
“Thank God!” Jessica moaned. She started to stand up, then quickly sat back down and pressed both hands between her legs. Julie grabbed her backpack and stood up slowly, always consciously keeping her back to the wall. She opened her backpack and held it in front of her lap, pretending to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. She nervously shifted her weight from one leg to the other, squeezing her thighs together and bending her knees occasionally.
Jessica glanced at Julie and immediately noticed her glistening chair and soaked rear end. “You couldn’t have picked a worse skirt to pee in,” Jessica said, staring at the wet material, had turned much darker than the rest of the checkered pattern and clung to the outline of Julie’s ass. The sight only made Jessica’s urge worse so she crossed her legs again.
“I know,” Julie said quietly, blushing slightly. “I really wasn’t planning on pissing in my pants today, at least not in class. I have to work in an hour!”
“Me either,” Jessica said, rocking nervously on the edge of her chair. “I’m afraid that if I stand up it will all come out!”
“Well, I normally wait until the doorways are clear before making a dash for it anyway,” Julie said, briefly grabbing her crotch. “Walking slowly is murder when you have to go.”
Jessica saw five or six students lined up at each exit, slowly walking single–file into the hallway. “I just hope there’s an open stall!” Jessica mumbled. For the next few moments, Julie and Jessica both helplessly stared at the nearest exit as their classmates casually filed into the hallway. Julie bounced up and down, continually shifting her body weight from one foot to the other. Jessica, meanwhile, zipped up her backpack and grabbed the shoulder straps. She clenched them with a white–knuckled fist and put her head down on her desk, closing her eyes.
“The coast is clear,” Julie whispered. “Let’s run for it!” She tossed her backpack onto her left shoulder. The weight jolted Julie’s body, and her panties received another flood of warmth. This time Julie could feel droplets trickling down her thighs to her knees.
Jessica opened her eyes and stood up slowly, careful not to uncross her legs through the whole motion. “Let’s go,” she said softly.
“Hopefully not until we get to a stall!” Julie said with a smile as the two girls began to half–hobble, half–run toward the exit.
“You make a lot of wisecracks for someone about to wet their pants,” Jessica said as she clumsily walked with her thighs clamped together. Her backpack dragged beside her.
“About to? I’m already soaked!”
“In that case, I get the first open stall,” Jessica said as the pair stumbled through the exit of the lecture hall into the hallway.
As was always the case during the 15–minute gaps between the end of one set of classes and the beginning of the next, the hallways were busy with students leaving lectures that had just ended and were walking to their next course. Dozens of eyes were immediately drawn to the tall, slender strawberry blonde in tight jeans waddling so urgently toward the women’s bathroom. Jessica ignored them, focusing her attention solely on the door to the restroom just a few feet away.
Julie, meanwhile, walked close to the wall with her backpack slung over her outside shoulder. She knew from experience that if she obstructed the view of her wet skirt and walked normally, most casual passers–by wouldn’t notice her accident. But walking normally was not an easy task with her bladder already leaking. She settled for a stiff–legged hobble as warm gushes of pee continued to escape into her panties. Julie kept her thighs tightly together to avoid a complete deluge as well as to conceal the rivulets that she could feel running down her legs.
As Jessica burst through the door to the ladies’ room, she was greeted by the sound of a flushing toilet. Her bladder ached. Jessica dropped her backpack and thrust both of her hands into her crotch. She crossed her left leg over the right and bent her knees, but it no longer helped. Warm wetness engulfed Jessica’s panties as she prayed for the stall’s occupant to hurry. As the stall door opened, Jessica pushed her way inside.
Julie had hobbled into the bathroom just in time to see Jessica’s dash into the open stall. By now Julie’s thighs were soaked, and she was peeing in a continuous stream down her legs. She was simply grateful to reach the semi–privacy of a public bathroom to finish her accident. She leaned against the sink counter, closed her eyes, and relaxed her bladder muscles, letting the pee gush out in a torrent. Julie’s knees weakened as she trembled with sexual excitement. She pressed a hand tightly against her crotch through her skirt and felt the fabric get warm and wet beneath her fingers. The back of her skirt––already wet from class––now received a total drenching as she peed with full force in a half–squat. The urine cascaded from the bottom of her skirt and gathered in a puddle on the floor. Julie’s shoes and socks were quickly as soaked as her underwear.
Inside the stall, Jessica could feel the warm flood spreading down the legs of her jeans. Her inner thighs were already soaked as she hopped on one foot, trying to unbutton her hip–huggers. Her hands trembled with excitement. Droplets began to saturate the top of Jessica’s socks as she finally got her Levis unbuttoned. She quickly unzipped them and peeled the glistening wet denim from her long legs. She didn’t bother to remove her panties, instead deciding just to sit on the toilet and finish in them. Jessica’s pulse was racing. She couldn’t resist running her fingers over the crotch of her pink panties as urine flowed through them in a constant stream.
As Julie emptied the last of her bladder contents into her outfit, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She froze. Before her stood a blonde wearing a sorority T–shirt, staring at Julie’s glistening legs and drenched skirt with her mouth wide open. Her eyes caught Julie’s. “Damn these long lectures,” Julie said, blushing and looking down at her skirt. “I’m either going to have to start drinking less or start wearing diapers to class.” The girl gave Julie a disgusted look and walked out of the bathroom.
When Jessica had finished, she pulled up her soaked jeans and then buttoned them. They now clung to her legs and hung heavily on her hips, but their warm caress was a turn on. Jessica felt good wetting her pants again, even though she knew that there was a very embarrassing walk to her car ahead of her. She examined the damage to her jeans––dark wet streaks ran down both of her thighs, stopping about four inches below her knees. The blue denim was dark enough to hide the evidence from a far distance, but close up the wetness would be undeniable.
Julie’s wet shoes and socks made squishy noises with every step as she walked up to the door of Jessica’s stall. She yelled through the door, “I’m going to kick your ass if you tell me you’re dry in there!”
“Maybe I am and maybe I’m not,” Jessica replied with a smile. “Why? Did someone have an accident out there?”
“Of course not. College girls never pee in their pants. We’re wayyy too old for that! I just sat in a puddle by mistake, and now it looks like I pissed myself.”
“What a coincidence,” Jessica said, opening the stall door and revealing her wet jeans to Julie. “I spilled a drink in my lap, and now it looks like I wet my pants too.” The two girls stared at each other for a second, and then burst into raucous laughter.
“We are a couple of dorks!” Julie said, putting her arm around Jessica as she walked out of the stall.
“A couple of very wet dorks,” Jessica replied.
“You’ve got that right!” Julie said, picking up her backpack. “Hey, where are you parked?”
“All the way out on Scott Street.”
“Oh no, you shouldn’t have to walk that far in those jeans,” Julie said. “My apartment is only about 10 minutes from here. We can walk there together, I’ll change, then I’ll drive you to your car.”
“Sounds good,” Jessica said as she slung her backpack on her shoulder. “I could use the morale support.”
“Me too,” Julie said. She glanced down at the fist–sized dark patch on the front of her red–and–black checkered skirt. The back was still dripping wet. She sighed. “This is going to be bad.”
“Very,” Jessica agreed.
“If we walk fast, there’s less chance people will notice the wetness, so let’s try to jog there. Are you ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Let’s go,” Julie said as she opened the restroom door and strode into the hallway.
The walk to Julie’s apartment was embarrassing, but not as bad as either girl had feared. The next wave of lectures had begun and the campus was sparsely populated. The pair passed about 30 people, nearly all of whom stopped to gawk at the two girls who had obviously peed in their pants. Julie’s shoes made obnoxious squishing sounds with every step, and the bright sun made hiding their condition impossible. Julie and Jessica both walked rapidly with their heads down, avoiding eye contact. They were thrilled to finally reach the doorstep of Julie’s one–bedroom apartment and duck inside.
“I’ve always hated that part,” Julie said as she tossed her backpack on the sofa.
“That was a complete high school flashback for me,” Jessica said as she set her backpack next to Julie’s.
“Yeah,” Julie agreed. “I’m going to quickly change clothes in my bedroom, so make yourself at home. You can sit in the recliner if you like–that’s my pissing chair, so you won’t ruin it.”
Jessica smirked. She glanced at the old, dingy chair in the corner of the living room. It had originally been a cream color, but the seat and one of the arms now clearly displayed faded yellow stains. Even without the label Julie had given it, any stranger could guess that it had been peed on many times. Jessica decided against sitting down. Instead, she paced aimlessly around the living room. Her cold, clammy jeans still clung to her thighs with every step. After a few minutes, Julie emerged from her room in a black, thigh–length skirt.
“You should’ve worn that to class today,” Jessica said. “It would have saved you a lot of embarrassment.”
“I would have, but it’s not really clean,” Julie replied as she looked down at her skirt. “I desperately need to do laundry! I’m wearing my last pair of clean panties.”
“Why do I have the feeling that they won’t stay dry very long?”
“Oh, I know they won’t,” Julie said matter–of–factly. “That’s why I really need to do laundry tonight after work.”
“Yeah, I need to get mine done too.”
“Hey,” Julie said, forming a devilish grin. “Let’s do our laundry together tonight. This could be fun now that I have a partner in crime.”
“Wait a minute,” Jessica said, unnerved by the implication of a second public wetting in one day. “I am NOT wetting my pants in middle of the laundromat!”
“Well, I can’t make you piss your pants if you don’t want to,” Julie said, maintaining her mischievous smile. “We’ll just talk while our laundry gets done. If I happen to drink too much tea before I get there and have an accident, then that’s my problem. You’ll just be an innocent bystander.”
Julie was right, and Jessica knew it. She was 19 years old; no one could make her pee in her pants. Nevertheless, Jessica knew she should say no. She didn’t trust herself to behave, especially once Julie started squirming around and talking about having an accident. “Okay,” Jessica mumbled. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Awesome,” Julie said. “Now let’s get you to your car. Those jeans are probably chaffing the hell out of your thighs.”
“Yeah, they’re beginning to,” Jessica admitted, blushing slightly. “I’d forgotten about that.”
“That’s why I usually wear skirts now,” Julie said.
“Yeah, but jeans are more fun to pee in.”
“No, you didn’t just say that,” Julie said, shaking her head. “Skirts are so much more fun to piss in than jeans! We’ll have to debate about that tonight.”
“Maybe we will,” Jessica said, as her thoughts wandered to the possibilities of the night ahead.
The girls continued to chat about wetting for several more minutes. By the time Jessica had finally gotten a ride back to her car, her stomach was tied in knots. She still couldn’t decide if meeting Julie had been a blessing or a curse. Perhaps it was a little of both.
As Jessica drove herself home, dozens of questions about the remarkable girl she had just met filled her mind: Was Julie really planning to stage another accident at the laundromat? How could she be so unashamed of her wettings? What do her friends and family think about her habits? Does she even have any friends because of the frequency that she seems to wets herself? Is she genuinely crazy, or just uninhibited?
Jessica glanced down at her jeans as she waited at a stoplight. They were beginning to dry, but the wet patches down her legs were still obvious. Although the damp denim was now cool as it clung to her thighs, Jessica still liked the feel of it. She ran her left hand up her leg and massaged the wet crotch of her jeans, remembering how sensual it had felt to freely pee through her panties less than an hour ago.
As the stoplight turned green, Jessica began to think about the six–pack of bottled water sitting in her refrigerator and a pair of designer black jeans she had been given for Christmas. She wondered if they were too stylish to wear to a laundromat.
Soggy Jeans