This is a report about a lady friend with a pee hoodoo. If you 're not into that kind of thing then you probably wo n't enjoy the story. However if you are please read and let me experience what you think of my first endeavour at writing.

My gens is Michelle I 'm 19 and just started college. I 'm not exactly sure how to start my storey. I could startle 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 give you an mind of what I look like.

So lets start with the basic. I 'm unretentive ... very short. Its the first thing people notice about me when I walk into a way. A few weeks ago I was walking by a group of one-sixth graders that were out on a field of battle trip-up and as I went to track the street away from them one of the chaperon hollered at me to get back with the residual of the grade ... very embarrassing. Though I think he was just as hinder when I showed him my driver 's license. It may not have helped that I flipped him off after he called me `` little cutie ''.

So yeah I 'm a tiny little thing. Thankfully the residual of my soundbox is in proportion with my height. There 's just not a unit lot to me I guess. A tiny minuscule shank and a butt that most men can palm like a fiddling hoops. My knocker on the other paw are ( and this may vocalise a bit narcissistic ) the unspoilt but that 's just my judgment. Not too big and not too small. A bit More than a handfull with the perkiest small nipples you 've ever seen. I 've got long brown hair which goes down preceding my waist that I almost always keep in a ponytail. I 've found when you 've got as lots hairsbreadth as me its too blamed meter consuming to do much else with it. Besides if I want to style it that requires hairspray which I will then take to wash out that night. Again that a lot hair would require a lot of hairspray and a ton of shampoo to style yet keep clean everyday. I 'm a college student remember. pious platitude go wasting money on stuff like that. As for my side ... well people tell me I 'm cute. I 've been called pretty and beautiful before but when you 're a diminutive girl like me most people stick with cute. I 'm not complaining though. My features are tart which goes well with my twelvemonth long tan. My eyes though are my preferred affair about me. Its my number one weapon anytime I 've been hard up and needed a good night of fun from a guy or sometimes a daughter. They are extremely dark. Not blacken but ... I think smokey would be the considerably term to report them. They work very well in sending sign like `` hey squawk do n't have it off with me '' or `` hey baby follow fuck me ''. When you know how to use your eyes like that it makes life so often easier.

What else would people like to know about me ? I guess you 'd be wondering what I 'm like. wellspring I 've always been a pretty shy lady friend but lately I 've been opening up more. supposition that 's what happens when you elbow room with a basket compositor's case like mare who is now my full supporter. She forced me ( quite quickly ) to number out of my shell and start speaking my mind. She always says `` carapace a lady friend as little and cunning as you can get away with anything. So do what you want. But it wont cobbler's last forever. feel fade infant. '' Which is then followed with her strange laughing fit which is a bit annoying. Just do n't distinguish her I said that.

I guess I have always been looked at as a good female child. Maybe a bit nerdy too. The kind of female child that you see in school and jest with your protagonist about her being too `` uncool '' for a bland motherfucker like yourself but who you then secretly jerk off to at night. The kind of daughter that never got in any trouble and the `` cool '' kids would think did n't let enough case to be interesting at all.

So what made me what I am today you 're wondering ? wellspring maybe first I should severalize 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 people wet themselves. I 've spent hours online searching for videos of people in public or at home desperate to pee. I 'm not a full on gay woman 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 young lady. Just go pee yourself and save yourself the time ''. conceive 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 keep 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 boxer was his name if I remember correctly. Anyway we were wrestling in the grass and I remember him stopping and grabbing and his crotch a few prison term. Finally I asked him if he needed to go inside and use my john. I remember him puffing up all of a sudden and saying `` guy wire do n't need to use toilets cuz they can pee anywhere they want ''.

I was confused by this since I 'd never seen a guys 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 clock time 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 time. Then he grabbed it with his fingers and started peeing on the ground smiling at me the whole time. I remember saying `` cool '' in a recollective drawn out way. After a bit he stopped and asked if I wanted to have got it and head where his pee went. I jumped at the chance and grabbed a bit too hard at first making him swat at my hand and severalize me `` not so arduous ''. Loosening my handle I pointed him towards my fence and he started peeing again. As he was going I felt a funny chill 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 turn. I kept telling him I needed to sit on a can to do it but he kept begging me until eventually I found myself stripping out of my short and panty. I was flighty standing there half naked in social movement of him but he kept saying it was alright so I squated down against the incline of the molt and spread my peg open. He moved his face in really close then until I could feel his breath against my thighs. Finally I felt myself start to let go. There was n't much since I did n't really involve too but a slight bit came out. Then Tommy put his hand over my privates cupping me tightly. I watched as a little more pee slipped through the go of his fingers.

I closed my legs shut tightly till he pulled his bridge player away. I asked him what he thought he was doing and he told me he just wanted to feel 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 more times 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 braveness to do it.

He and his fellowship moved away before the kickoff of the schooltime year. I had been glad at the time. Greatful that he would n't be going to schoolhouse and telling everyone about what happened that day. But little Tommy changed me from that power 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 to a greater extent do-or-die they were to make it to the bathroom the more than do-or-die I was to touch myself. Thats another nifty niggling thing I discovered not long after that day. Granted I would n't have got my initiative orgasm for a few more than years. The intuitive feeling of rubbing my fingers over myself would help oneself meet at least some of the growing hungriness inside me.

I remember when it happened for me as decipherable as I remember the last five min of this very day. My kinsperson was taking a vacation across body politic. We were out in the middle of nowhere and my mom had to go quite badly. We would ingest 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 billet. I sat in the backseat with sunglasses on pretending to be deceased but watching and listening as her need deepened with every pasing naut mi. The horizon 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 hold back the growing urge to let go. I watch as she crossed her stage and squirmed in her seat and I could feel my exhilaration building as the car rode steadily down the spread road.

We had this heavyweight van ( which never made any sense to me since it was just me and my parents ) and I was sitting in the back. I knew no one could see what I was doing so as I watched I started hiking my skirt up to my waist. Trying to restrain my movements as subtle as possible I pulled my step-in down to my ankles giving me terrific accession to my puss. I continued to watch and listen as my fingerbreadth ran gentle little circles around a smirch I had found felt the best ( I would later discover that this is called a clit but I was too Edward Young to have sex at the metre ).

I heard my mom say she was n't going to stool it and watched as a moody syndicate started to flood the social movement of her dungaree. As I watched I felt a growing sense impression form from between my legs and up to my breadbasket. For a bit I thought I was going to pee too. I did n't however but I did sense waving of pleasure pour over every column inch of my dead body. I nearly screamed as my tiny body squirmed in the back of the van.

I looked towards the front seat to my parents and thanked god that they did n't notice what was happening back there. They were far too come to with my mom 's post to worry about me. I tried to allude myself more but it was so sensitive there that I found I could n't. From that day on though I made sure as shooting to determine clip to give 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 push me over the edge.

It was n't till my teen years that I found I enjoyed wetting myself. It happened one afternoon in the summer and I had been in my way masturbating. I think I was 15 at the metre and I had decided to dedicate this summer to making myself cum as many meter as potential. On this particular proposition day I had just had my 4th orgasm of the day and was working on my 5th but try as I might I could n't quite finish the job. I had tried to ignore my fetish for awhile but as I sat there and tried to make believe myself cum again my mind went back to that day in the van. My mind picked up on an idea that I knew was sordid and maybe unseasonable but I think that made it all the more exciting.

I put on some old jeans and headed downstairs to the kitchen trying my considerably to avoid my parents like most stripling. I went to the fridge and found the big jug of piss mom kept in there during the hot summertime months. I poured myself a monster glass and wassail 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 elbow room. I turned some music on and sat back waiting for the first signs of needing to pee.

It took a little More than half an minute before I started to feel my bladder tell me that I needed to go. I had been so rouse about what I was going to do when the architectural plan had inaugural hit that I thought I would go as soon as the start pang of pauperism showed up but for some reasonableness I decided to wait and hold it as long as I could. Another 30 minutes passed and I was starting to find overwhelmed by it but I stayed strong holding it even longer. I almost made it another thirty before it just became too much.

I stood at the boundary of my bed in nothing but a couple of panty crossing my legs as mean as I could while my middle finger stayed wedged between my thigh stroking my button through the thin cotton wool material. I could already finger the climax building as the first drops started to seep out of my twat. The warm wetness flooded my panty and spread head over my fingers which now rubbed furiously over my clit.

Soon I felt the gates open completely and I let go about the same time my orgasm overtook me. My legs were shaking violently and I had to cover my rima oris with my gratis hand to prevent from screaming from the ecstasy that poured through my soundbox. The sensation was so unattackable I thought I may pass out from it. I felt like every os in my entire consistence had been removed and I had been reduced to some form of jelly.

I finally collapsed on my bed still squirming as the wave of joy continued to course through my consistency. I knew then that I could no longer dismiss my strage voodoo. It was part of me and even though I felt a little unearthly and filthy afterwards it was not worth missing out on earth shattering orgasms to feel like I was what almost citizenry would holler pattern. I also knew that I needed Sir Thomas More of this. To experience it with someone else maybe. There had to be others out there like me right ?