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Three Accidents
I used to work at a restaurant as broiler cook. There was this waitress there whose name was Kathy. She used to wear extremely tight jeans, because the tips were better, she said.
One particular day, after we closed she came to me for help in an embarassing situation. She had to pee very badly and her zipper was stuck. She tried to get it down but could not and asked me if I could try to unzip her pants.
What a fantastic and exciting request. I must say at this time that I was a closet wetter but still I have never let it be known until this writing. The prospect of seeing someone else wet themselves was quite possible here.
Kathy was very desparate and was almost crying when she asked me to help. I tried(seriously) to uundo her zipper but it was really caught. I got out a pair of plyers to help me in my endeavor. I tugged and tugged. A small wet spot had begun to appear. Kathy was really desparate now.
She said to get a pair of scissors and cut/wreck the jeans or zipper if I had to. I said to let me give it one more final tugged. She said okay but hurry. I tugged real hard. So hard that Kathy lost her balance and fell on me. I felt my leg get extremely wet and realized that Kathy had indeed done the deed. She had peed. We must have laid there in that heap for a minute or so, but it seemed like and eternity.
When she got off of me, Kathy really apologized and begged me not to tell any of our co-workers. I agreed and we noticed that her zipper had finally became unstuck with my last tug. I lent her a pair of pants that all the staff in the kitchen have to wear. We went out for a few drinks that night and we ended up making love at her place when I took her home. She said that the sex was payment for keeping my silence about her accident. I never told anyone until now. We never had any real contact after that night except for verbal pleasantries at work. The thought of her wetting herself led me on a search for other women who would have an accident or pee themselves for me on purpose. I find the real accidents more exciting though.
Another time I was on a flight to Europe and had a seat close to the washrooms. We hit some turbulence and were restricted to our seats for quit some time. Eventually, the stewardess got on the PA and said that we could unfasten on seatbelts and get up from our seats if we would like. There was a mad dash for the washrooms.
I personally did not have to go so I sat and watched all the people in line and their various stages on discomfort, looking at each individual for signs to see if someone might not make it and end up peeing in their pants.
There was this one woman who seemed in the most urgent need to pee. Unfortunately for her but fortunately for me, she was not near the start of the line. She was about 5'4". She had blond hair past her shoulders. She was wearing a pair of tan courdoroy pants and a flowery T-shirt. There were about 8 people in front of her in the line to use the bathroom. She was very figity and was dancing from foot to foot.
She made it up to second in line, when I heard a gaspy cry and then a moan. There had been no visible signs of wetness until now and she had lost complete control. Her crotch was darkening and the wet spot continued right down her legs. Her pants were completely saturated past her knees with some visible signs of wetness lower and a puddle on the floor. She turned and ran towards the man she was sitting with. She was about to sit down, when a stewardess stopped her. The stewardess told her not to sit until she came back with a trash bag to protect the seat. She had to stand for a minute or so, for us all to see, until the stewardess brought the trash bag. Her husband was yelling at her, and calling her a child. He told her that he was ashamed of her. He was a real bastard. I would have been understanding and have offered her emotional support, if I was him. I could overhear people whispering about her, calling her a baby and so on. I heard one woman say that she wished that she had peed herself and gotten that much attention.
Needless to say that when we landed at Heathrow, I stayed close to them, looking at her pants and listening to other people talk about her. I did not have the courage to approach her because was with her husband. He seemed like a real asshole and I didn't want to get my head punched in.
One day when I was about 22, I was at a fair enjoying the rides, games and entertainment, all the while looking around for women in dire need to pee. I spent time at the beer tent but did not see any likely candidates. I went to the different so called "Houses of Horror" and did not see any likely candidates there either. I was resigned to the fact that I probably would not see any women pee their pants on this day.
(I had peed my pants at this same fair when I was 14. I was near the top of the Double Ferris-wheel when the power went out. We were stranded up there for 45 minutes. I couldn't hold on and peed my pants. This was my first time in public and it was an unwanted event. When we finally did get off, everyone was offered a free pass for entrance to the fair and all the free rides we wanted. I noticed that I was not the only person that peed my pants. That made me feel a lot better. My mother was waiting for me at the bottom to the double ferris-wheel. She was almost hysterical after watching her son stranded for 45 minutes. She saw my wet pants and told me not to worry. She knew that I was scared, so I wouldn't be punished. Little did she know that I wasn't scared, but I just couldn't hold on. She also told me that she had peed her pants that day because she was frightened that I wouldn't get down. She couldn't leave her baby. I looked for a wet spot on her but didn't see any because she was wearing a skirt. She told me that she had peed herself many times whenever she was really scared so she understood. I never noticed her pee herself then or any other time. And the incident was never spoken about again. My father was not even told about the power going out.)
Anyway let's get back to the story of this visit to the fair. I went into the "House of Mirrors." It was something to do and since I had been through it many times before, I could almost go throught it blindfolded. This time, though, there was a group of teenage girls going through. Some of them were showing signs of intoxication. They were having trouble finding their way out and were walking into mirrors. This would result in a great thudding sound and very much giggling. One of the girls squealed "Let's hurry and get out of here, I have to pee real bad!" This might just be my chance to see someone pee their pants. Her friends did not seem to be in any hurry and it looked like they were only pretending to find a way out. Turning the same way more than once and banging into mirrors. The sight was exquisite as I could see them from many angles due to the mirrors. I am sure that they could see me as well. I must point out that there was nobody else in the "House of Mirrors" except the girls and myself. (The girl was wearing tight jeans and a tube top that accentuated her fairly big boobs.) She showed signs of worry and started banging on the mirrors, begging her friends to help find a way out. I was hurrying to get closer without stumbling directly upon them. Her friends were giggling and laughing, singing a little tune. "Tracy's gonna pee her pants. Tracy's gonna pee her pants." Finally, I knew her name. I was watching intensely. Tracy was really anxious. She was bouncing up and down, and begging her friends for help. They were still laughing and singing. Tracy was looking around frantically. While she did this, her friends quietly slipped out. Tracy was set up. Her friends knew where the exit was all along. Tracy was visibling shaking and still looking for the exit. Wetting her pants was inevitable, even if she found her way out sine the port-a-potties were nowhere near. I couldn't stay where I was forever, but was hestitant to get too near to Tracy. I pretended that I could not find my way out either, but Now I think that Tracy didn't even know that I was there. I was still watching her. She turned and walked into another mirror. I heard her cry out loud, "Oh, f???..." Suddenly there was a hissing sound and she was peeing. I was in ectasy. I could see her glistening pants from almost every angle. She just fell in a heap on the floor and sobbed uncontrolably. I could no longer stay where I was. I continued through the maze until I approached her.
I asked her if I could be of any help. She told me that she peed herself when she was abandoned by her friends and that she could not find her way out. I said that I would find the exit. She said that she could not leave like this. What would everyone think? What if her friends or other people she knew saw her? I offered her my jacket to try and hide some of her wetness. She took me up on my offer, although it didn't help much. Her wet pants were quite visible. She asked me if I could take her home. I readily agreed. I was getting very excited listening to what people were saying when they saw her. I did see her friends laughinh at her but she didn't see them and I did not let on that I saw them. We eventually got to my car, when she was hesitant about getting in. She was worried about my apolstery. I told her not to worry, that it would be okay, that I could clean my car later and that we should deal with the problem at hand, namely getting her home. It was then that she started to cry again. Her father was home. He would see her pants and give her the 3rd degree. He would figure out where she went and what she did. She was supposed to be studying at a friend's house. She didn't know what to do. She asked me if I had a washer and dryer at my house. I said that I did and she asked me if we could go to my house instead. I readily agreed to this too.
When we arrived at my house I showed her where my washer and dryer were located. They were in the bathroom. She went into the bathroom to wash her clothes. I fully expected her to come out wearing a towel. However, she came out totally naked. She said that she figured that she might as well was her tube-top and my jacket as well. We went into the kitchen and talked for about an hour until her laundry was done. She didn't care that she was naked and I didn't complain. She told me all about herself. She was almost 16 and went to a nearby High School. She said that this was not the first time that she had peed her pants. She said that it is a semi-regular occurence that happens only when she has been drinking. She said that she was really ashamed whenever it happened. She said that whenever it happened, that she was with her friends, but they would leave her before she peed in her pants. She said that they don't know for sure that she peed he pants. I said that they did know for sure now as I saw them laughing when we left the "House of Mirrors," but I did not have the nerve to tell her that I enjoyed peeing my pants or that I enjoyed her peeing her pants. She thanked me for being so understanding and letting her use my washer and dryer. She got dressed and asked me to take her home. There was nothing sexual between us that night.
About 3 weeks later, I was home watching "Dallas" on TV when there was a knock on my door. It was Tracey and she had on a one piece jumpsuit that she had thoroughly peed in. I had not witnessed the event but was excited at the sight of her peed pants all the same. She asked if use my washer and dryer again. Of course, I let her in. She went into the bathroom to do her laundry, but this time when she came out she was not naked. She had kept on her bra. For some reason, this excited me even more than seeing her naked. We talked again and she told me how she hated it whenever she had an accident and that when her father finds out about any of her accidents, he freaks out. He grounds her for a month and sometimes spanks her. She asked me if she could come to my house whenver she has an accident so that she could wash her clothes. Of course, I agreed and even gave her a spare key in case I was not home. She thanked me and we ended up making love. I hardly ever went out after that wainting for her to need to wash her clothes. The next week she needed to. We ended up making love again, and each subsequent time she had an accident. We started a relationship that kept up until after she left for college. I never did tell her how much I enjoyed seeing her in pee-filled pants or that I enjoyed peeing in my pants myself. We did get together a few times when she came home for the holidays but that did not involve seeing her with wet pants. She told me on her last visit that she had only wet herslf 4 times all the time she was away at school and that she was quite proud of herself at approaching "dryhood." She thanked me for all the understanding and support that I showed her and she told me that she loved me, but I never heard from her again.