This is a chronicle about a daughter with a pee voodoo. If you 're not into that sort of matter then you probably wo n't relish the level. However if you are please read and let me lie with what you think of my first attempt at committal to writing.

My name is Michelle I 'm 19 and just started college. I 'm not exactly sure how to start my story. I could get going with the experience that made me into what I am today but I figure that can wait for now. Maybe it 'd be better to turn over you an idea of what I look like.

So lets start with the bedrock. I 'm curtly ... very short. Its the starting time affair citizenry notice about me when I walk into a room. A few weeks ago I was walking by a group of sixth graders that were out on a field trip-up and as I went to cross the street away from them one of the chaperon hollered at me to get back with the rest of the course ... very embarrassing. Though I think he was just as abash when I showed him my driver 's license. It may not have got helped that I flipped him off after he called me `` little cutie ''.

So yeah I 'm a tiny petty matter. Thankfully the relaxation of my body is in proportion with my height. There 's just not a totally lot to me I guess. A tiny fiddling waist and a butt that nigh men can palm like a lilliputian basketball game. My boobs on the other bridge player are ( and this may fathom a bit narcissistic ) the best but that 's just my opinion. Not too big and not too belittled. A bit more than a handfull with the perkiest picayune nipple you 've ever seen. I 've got long browned haircloth which goes down past my waist that I almost always hold back in a ponytail. I 've found when you 've got as lots whisker as me its too tinker's dam time consuming to do much else with it. Besides if I want to flair it that requires hairspray which I will then make to wash out that Nox. Again that much hairsbreadth would take a lot of hairspray and a ton of shampoo to trend yet keep clean everyday. I 'm a college bookman remember. vernacular go wasting money on stuff like that. As for my typeface ... well the great unwashed tell me I 'm cute. I 've been called pretty and beautiful before but when you 're a tiny girl like me most people stick with cute. I 'm not complaining though. My features are incisive which goes well with my twelvemonth long tan. My eyes though are my favorite thing about me. Its my number one weapon system anytime I 've been severely up and needed a unspoiled Night of fun from a guy or sometimes a girl. They are extremely dark. Not pitch-dark but ... I think smokey would be the advantageously condition to identify them. They work very well in sending signals like `` hey bitch do n't be intimate with me '' or `` hey babe issue forth fuck me ''. When you know how to use your centre like that it makes life so much easier.

What else would people like to know about me ? I guess you 'd be wondering what I 'm like. Well I 've always been a pretty shy girl but lately I 've been opening up more. Guess that 's what happens when you room with a basket event like Maria who is now my easily friend. She forced me ( quite quickly ) to come out of my scale and start speaking my intellect. She always says `` Shell a girl as petty and cute as you can get away with anything. So do what you want. But it wont endure forever. Looks fade child. '' Which is then followed with her strange laughing fit which is a bit annoying. Just do n't enjoin her I said that.

I guess I have always been looked at as a honorable girl. Maybe a bit nerdy too. The kind of girl that you see in school and jape with your friend about her being too `` uncool '' for a suave mother fucker like yourself but who you then secretly jerk off to at Nox. The kind of female child that never got in any difficulty and the `` cool '' kids would opine did n't have enough type to be interesting at all.

So what made me what I am today you 're wondering ? Well maybe first I should tell you what I am and what I 'm into. The Japanese have a word for it I guess. This I figured out after many hours of searching for my particular kind of porn. Its called omorashi I guess. Basically I have a pee fetish. I love watching hoi polloi wet themselves. I 've spent hours online searching for video of people in public or at plate desperate to pee. I 'm not a fully on sapphic just bi curious but in my hours of searching and watching I 've found I prefer watching women pee themselves. You may be thinking `` well you 're a girl. Just go pee yourself and save yourself the time ''. believe me I 've done that too but I 'll get into that later. Something about watching girls cross their legs and hold themselves as they struggle to hold on it in gets me so turned on every time.

It all started when I was 7 and playing in my backyard with a boy from school. Tommy bagger was his name if I remember right. Anyway we were wrestling in the forage and I remember him stopping and grabbing and his genitals a few times. Finally I asked him if he needed to go inside and use my bathroom. I remember him puffing up all of a sudden and saying `` bozo do n't need to use toilette cuz they can pee anywhere they want ''.

I was confused by this since I 'd never seen a cat set-up before so I asked him what he meant. He took my hand and we walked over to the toolshed by our fence. He looked around a few metre then pulled `` it '' out. I was shocked to say the least. Not only had I been told to never let others see what was under my clothes but also because he had an outtie where I had an innie. Yes this is what I thought at the meter. Then he grabbed it with his finger's breadth and started peeing on the earth smiling at me the totally time. I remember saying `` poise '' in a longsighted drawn out way. After a bit he stopped and asked if I wanted to hold it and luff where his pee went. I jumped at the chance and grabbed a bit too hard at first making him swat at my deal and tell me `` not so hard ''. Loosening my grip I pointed him towards my fence and he started peeing again. As he was going I felt a funny tingle between my own legs and thought maybe I needed to go too but it was n't quite the same.

After he was finished he told me it was my go. I kept telling him I needed to sit on a potty to do it but he kept begging me until eventually I found myself stripping out of my drawers and panties. I was neural standing there half raw in front of him but he kept saying it was alright so I squated down against the side of the shed and outspread my peg heart-to-heart. He moved his face in really close then until I could experience his hint against my thighs. Finally I felt myself start to let go. There was n't much since I did n't really postulate too but a minuscule bit came out. Then Tommy put his bridge player over my genitalia cupping me tightly. I watched as a little more pee slipped through the cracks of his fingers.

I closed my branch shut tightly till he pulled his hired man away. I asked him what he thought he was doing and he told me he just wanted to palpate me like I had felt him. I put my clothes back on and we went back to playing in the yard. He came over a few Sir Thomas More metre that summer and sometimes he would beg me to pee for him again but even though I secretly wanted to I never could build up the courage to do it.

He and his class moved away before the showtime of the school class. I had been glad at the time. Greatful that he would n't be going to shoal and telling everyone about what happened that day. But little Tommy changed me from that breaker point on. He awoke something in me that I never knew was there.

After that experience I found myself turned on evertime I saw someone that needed to pee. The more heroic they were to reach it to the can the more desperate I was to touch myself. Thats another neat minuscule thing I discovered not long after that day. Granted I would n't induce my first gear climax for a few Thomas More years. The flavor of rubbing my fingers over myself would help meet at least some of the growing thirst inside me.

I remember when it happened for me as crystallise as I remember the last-place five transactions of this very day. My kinsperson was taking a vacation across area. We were out in the middle of nowhere and my mom had to go quite badly. We would get just pulled over but there was a car that had been pacing us for over an hour so she was stuck up front with my dad complaining about her current spot. I sat in the backseat with sunglasses on pretending to be asleep but watching and listening as her need deepened with every pasing international mile. The view was n't perfect but I could still clearly see as her hand reached down to her lap as she grabbed herself hoping that would have got back the growing urge to let go. I watch as she crossed her ramification and squirmed in her keister and I could feel my excitement building as the car rode steadily down the open road.

We had this whale van ( which never made any sentience to me since it was just me and my parents ) and I was sitting in the backrest. I knew no one could see what I was doing so as I watched I started hiking my wench up to my shank. Trying to keep back my bm as subtle as possible I pulled my panties down to my ankles giving me terrific access to my pussy. I continued to follow and listen as my digit ran mollify little traffic circle around a slur I had found felt the effective ( I would later key that this is called a clit but I was too young to know at the clip ).

I heard my mom say she was n't going to defecate it and watched as a dark pool started to flood the front of her jeans. As I watched I felt a growing wiz build from between my wooden leg and up to my stomach. For a second I thought I was going to pee too. I did n't however but I did feel waves of pleasure pour over every in of my body. I nearly screamed as my tiny body squirmed in the back of the van.

I looked towards the straw man seat to my parents and thanked god that they did n't notice what was happening back there. They were far too concerned with my mom 's berth to worry about me. I tried to equal myself more but it was so sensitive there that I found I could n't. From that day on though I made sure to find clock time to ca-ca myself cum at least once every day and quite often I used that memory of my mom wetting herself in the van as motivation to tug me over the edge.

It was n't till my teen days that I found I enjoyed wetting myself. It happened one afternoon in the summertime and I had been in my room masturbating. I think I was 15 at the time and I had decided to dedicate this summer to making myself cum as many meter as potential. On this item day I had just had my 4th sexual climax of the day and was working on my 5th but try as I might I could n't quite fetch up the job. I had tried to neglect my fetish for awhile but as I sat there and tried to make myself cum again my mind went back to that day in the van. My mind picked up on an idea that I knew was dirty and maybe wrongly but I think that made it all the more exciting.

I put on some old jeans and headed downstairs to the kitchen trying my adept to head off my parents like most adolescent. I went to the electric refrigerator and found the big jug of water mom kept in there during the hot summer month. I poured myself a whale field glass and fuddle it down as fast as I could. Then I had another. Two was all I could handle though so I put the jug back in the fridge and headed up to my room. I turned some music on and sat back waiting for the firstly signs of needing to pee.

It took a little More than half an hour before I started to palpate my bladder tell me that I needed to go. I had been so excited about what I was going to do when the architectural plan had first hit that I thought I would go as soon as the first sting of motivation showed up but for some understanding I decided to hold back and hold it as long as I could. Another thirty hour passed and I was starting to feel overwhelmed by it but I stayed substantial holding it even longer. I almost made it another 30 before it just became too much.

I stood at the edge of my bed in cipher but a pair of pantie crossing my legs as tight as I could while my midway fingerbreadth stayed wedged between my second joint stroking my clit through the thin cotton material. I could already feel the coming building as the first cliff started to seep out of my pussy. The warmly wetness flooded my panty and spread over my fingers which now rubbed furiously over my clit.

Soon I felt the William Henry Gates open completely and I let go about the same clip my orgasm overtook me. My legs were shaking violently and I had to cover my sassing with my resign handwriting to keep from screaming from the hug drug that poured through my consistence. The sensation was so impregnable I thought I may pass out from it. I felt like every osseous tissue in my stallion body had been removed and I had been reduced to some kind of jelly.

I finally collapsed on my bed still squirming as the undulation of pleasure continued to course of study through my body. I knew then that I could no longer cut my strage fetish. It was region of me and even though I felt a picayune eldritch and dirty afterwards it was not worth missing out on earth shattering orgasms to sense like I was what most citizenry would anticipate normal. I also knew that I needed more of this. To experience it with someone else maybe. There had to be others out there like me right ?