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Pee Pals

I’m not sure when my attraction to women who wet their pants started, but it was when I was younger. Ever since I can remember I have been very powerfully attracted to girls who, although obviously old enough to know better, would wet their pants anyway. That attraction was even more powerful if the girl made absolutely no attempt to hide her wet pants or change her clothes. If she acted as though wetting herself was perfectly normal and acceptable, continued what she was doing while her pants slowly dried, and kept wetting throughout die day whenever she felt like it. I would have done almost anything for her to have been a part of it.

I once saw a girl in a shopping mall wearing very wet pink shorts. She must have just wet before I saw her, and I followed her and her friend around the mall for most of the day. I wanted to do more, but the situation wasn’t quite right. When I was older there was a girl who lived across the street who had a very big influence on me. She regularly wet her pants, and I remember very clearly the first time I noticed she was wet. She was outside, and I was in our living room. I saw her through the window. She had her back to me, and I got a little light headed at what I saw. There was a very dark, wet stain on the back of her blue shorts. I went outside for a closer look, and sure enough she was soaking wet. She was with her older sister and a girlfriend. I asked the older girl if she had noticed her sister had wet her pants, and she said yes, she did that a lot, especially when she was with that particular friend.

After a while her sister and the friend went home. I was so excited as she and I sat opposite each other on the retaining walls of the steps leading to her house. She was wearing pantyhose, and had her legs spread slightly so I had a great view of her wet crotch. It looked like she had been sitting when she peed, and the inner thighs of her pantyhose were wet and clingy. I told her I understood her ‘problem’ because I had it too. At first I don’t think she believed me, and acted like she wasn’t sure what I was talking about (as if she wasn’t sitting right in front of me soaking wet!). If it hadn’t been for the fact I would have been in deep trouble when I got home, I would have wet right then and there to prove it to her. When I described instead how it felt when I wet my pants, her eyes kind of lit up as though something had clicked. I think she believed me then, and even though she tried to make it sound like her wettings were accidental, I wasn’t convinced. She seemed to prefer going in her pants even when a toilet was close by, and as she talked about her wetting it sounded like she really enjoyed it, even if she wouldn’t admit it. I’m sure no one with a sympathetic ear had ever asked her before. This time she said her mother had made her come in and change her clothes after a previous wetting, but she had no sooner come back outside in dry clothes than she did it again. I asked her what it felt like to wet in pantyhose, and she said that they kind of hold in the pee for a few extra seconds as you wet, and if the pee runs down your legs they get extra clingy. She said some pantyhose (depending on the colour) also stayed stained even after they dried, like panties and pants do. Before I could explore this any further however, her mother called her in for the night.

Several weeks later I saw her slowly riding her bike up and down the street, glancing up only briefly from staring at her crotch, with her legs spread slightly. I knew she must be wetting. She got off her bike and went into her house with a very wet crotch. I could see the yellow stain on her white pants even from across the street. A while later she came back outside to play, and when I invited her over to my house to throw the frisbee around, I could see she was still wearing the same clothes. When the frisbee landed on the roof she volunteered to go up the ladder to retrieve it. I was thrilled because this gave me an excellent view of her wet shorts. They had several yellow stains including the latest, still wet one. She seemed to need help getting up the ladder, so I assisted her with a helping hand on her wet butt. After she came back down I told her how great her wet pants felt, and she took me totally by surprise when she said that she already had to go again and invited me to watch. My knees were weak with anticipation as she took me by the hand to a secluded area of my back yard where no one could see us. She sat down on a large rock facing me, spread her legs, and holding her long hair out of the way, looked down at her crotch. After a couple of seconds and a quiet exhalation of air, I heard the hissing sound of a wetting that was definitely no accident.

Her wetness gushed through her panties and was rapidly soaked up by her already yellowed shorts. As she wet she took my hand (I was on my knees in front of her) and put it against her wet pants until she was finished. After she was done she asked me to wet myself for her. When I told her how badly I wanted to, but didn’t want to get into trouble by going inside with wet pants, she said she had an idea. She took off her shorts and handed them to me, and explained that since she was already wet, I could pee in her shorts instead. As she stood there in her wet panties I took off my shorts and put hers on. They were so soaked that pee was dripping down my legs even before I wet. The feel of her wetness soaking through my underwear to my crotch was unbelievable. I sat on the rock and she got on her knees in front of me. As soon as my hard-on went down enough I let go. I re-wet her soaking shorts, getting them even wetter than she had done, and adding a new stain line of my own. She felt me wetting with her hand and I was in heaven. A lot of looking, touching and feeling went on, then I gave her shorts back. Then she suggested we trade underwear, but ironically, even after all we had done, we were still ignorant of how to proceed from there. Or maybe it was embarrassment. When we traded underwear we stood back to back because we were both too modest to be seen naked, yet we weren’t too embarrassed to wet our pants for each other.

She had been wearing nylon panties with cotton ones underneath (both of them white), and I thought this was peculiar at first. She pulled on my wet underwear and her wet shorts, and I pulled on my dry shorts and hid her panties in my hands to sneak back into the house. We said goodnight, and I went back inside and into my bedroom. I put on her wet panties just to see what they felt like, and then later on that night I wet them myself and discovered why she had been wearing two pairs. The cotton panties seemed to act like a diaper, soaking up lots of pee and staying wet for a long time, while the nylon panties got very clingy and looked great. Although she never actually admitted it, when I think about it I’m pretty sure Tina must have wet her bed too and sometimes worn diapers. There were always lots of sheets on the line in the summer, and occasionally diapers and plastic pants too (she was the youngest in the family). Unfortunately I moved away shortly afterwards, before we could explore this relationship further. Before I left she gave me those same white shorts she had been wearing that day (complete with yellow stains), and a pair of pantyhose she had wet. And I still have it all.

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