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Ethiopians chica seek male to Desperation wetting stories

Desperation Wetting Stories
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During rush hour the LRT train is always packed to the brim, not as bad as it is in Japan where they have deated people to help cram you in, but it was close today! Now we were both elbow to elbow and only half way done the ride home… another 10 minutes to go, but that bottled water rushed through me and now was sitting in my poor aching bladder. I was wearing flat ballet shoes, a white tshirt and my tightest medium grey skinny jeans with zippers on the bottom by the ankles.

Name: Terry

My age: 20
What is my ethnicity: Turkish
Eyes: I’ve got misty gray-green eyes but I use colored contact lenses
What is my gender: I am fem
Hair: Golden
Sign of the zodiac: I'm Leo
My figure type: My figure features is quite athletic
What I prefer to drink: White wine
Favourite music: Classical

As she made her way up to a register, she scanned the store for a Restrooms. The ten minutes it would have taken her to get to a gas station was already a stretch. Suddenly more aware of the weight in her bladder, she pressed on, a little hesitantly.

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What a ring-up. Jenna felt a moan bubble up as her bladder suddenly lurched. She pulled off her light sweater, tossing it into the passenger seat, and checked her phone.

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The woman looked up from her screen, giving a little shake of her greying curls. She grabbed what they had to offer, along with a bag of chips for herself, nonchalantly throwing her items into a basket. Her fingers trembled against her pee hole.

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The audio drink sloshed against its cup, and Jenna could almost feel the pee in her bladder do the same. Jenna gripped the wheel hard as her bladder spasms came closer and closer together, like pregnancy contractions. Jenna tore them down in a flash, now helplessly peeing openly, and her stream sprayed in desperate little bursts onto the floor and her seat. Tossing her supplies on top of her discarded sweater, Jenna fired up the fiat once again.

Jenna sighed as she slammed the trunk of her car closed, finally.

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Just a drop, but still. Jenna chewed her lip and shook her head, starting the few-step trek decidedly to her door, keys jingling around her index finger.

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She felt the urgent piss beg to escape. An hour? Sure, I understand.

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She was wetting herself. She would NOT pee herself like .

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Her fingers were assaulted with a sudden hot wet jet, and she shoved her hand in her crotch and shivered hard. She flipped on her blinker and took the off ramp, following the overhead s into the parking lot of a CVS. She felt the car murmur to a rest and pulled her frizzing red hair back into a messy bun. There was no way she could wait that long. Sure enough, her cotton bikini panties were damp. She just barely managed to cut it off before she had a thought.

Good to go. Traffic was near stopped. Baking soda, vanilla extract, cinnamon, lighter fluid, Advil, heartburn medicine for grandpa, adult diapers for Great Aunt Marge, and eggnog. She clenched her muscles down hard. She checked the time on Desperation wetting stories phone. She could text the cat notes; Mrs. McKinley had to figure out how to use instant messaging eventually. She felt her muscles start to relax.

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The car door thumped closed and she pulled her seatbelt across her body, giving her mirrors a check one-two before switching the vehicle on and into drive. The woman at the checkout rang her up, and Jenna peaked around once more before asking.

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She was going to have an accident. Her trembling pussy started to let her pee go, and a little stream was soaking into her shorts. Jenna had resorted to pressing her legs firmly together. Some people just knew how to road trip.

Jenna tried to hold back tears as she shivered and held herself. Her shorts clung to her legs as she reduced herself to shoving a hand between her thighs.

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She aled right to merge, only to be met with a near standstill of cars. And now she was paying for it. The sound of a drink pouring into an icy cup spilled out of her stereo system. The first few hours went by pretty smoothly.

It swelled and grew hot under her hand, keeping it firmly pressed against her urgent stream.

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Another hour crawled agonizingly by, and the traffic was relentless, no matter how far left her lane was. Why had she put it off this long? Every minute became more and more time-consuming.

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Her panties were damp around her pussy, now, a messy circle of pee soaking into the fabric. She raised her butt just an inch or so in half a second and slid one of the diapers under her in a panic as she cut the stream off once more. Now all that was left to do was to grab a snack, use the bathroom, leave a list of cat care notes for Mrs. Mckinley, and lock up.

She officially had to pee. It came in little squirts at first, soaking deeply into the soft cushion, warming around her mound.

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Somehow the idea that a toilet was so far out of reach only made matters worse. Her bladder was basically screaming, now. Jenna felt tears well Desperation wetting stories in her eyes. Shit, already twenty minutes behind schedule.

The clerk seemed to call her bluff. Great, it must have been some sort of crash. Jenna leaned forward in her seat, suddenly faced with the reality of her situation. She shoved her hand into her shorts, just to be sure. The onramp alone was indication enough that traffic was in full bloom, so she cranked up the tunes and popped her chips open.

The traffic started to stall and she coursed from a steady 70mph into a safe something. Her hand pressed the unfamiliar padding into her crotch, and, whimpering in humiliation, she started to lose control into it. Jenna felt her stomach flip and immediately there was a hot drip under her clothes. This had to be a joke. Her bladder throbbed as it released, and relief swept over her in a frenzy of ecstasy as the diaper grew thicker and thicker, amazingly absorbing her piss like a sponge.

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After what seemed like countless rounds of impossible baggage Tetris, her luggage had finally puzzle-pieced into the back of her tiny red fiat. She reached into her glove compartment and held off the annoying pang of boredom hunger with one of the bottles of water she kept for emergencies. A habit she was glad no one was around to witness. She was literally peeing her panties. A seven-eleven commercial played over the radio. She fastened the lock and gave the knob a jiggle for good measure. Confused, peering around, she realized what was dragging the highway out: a flicker of red and blue in the far distance just barely shone above the shiny tops of cars in the afternoon sun.

She sighed, taking a mental note.

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How long until she was out of this? Without giving it a second look, she reached into the passenger seat and tore open the package of adult diapers. She had to go.

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