Hey, this is a story I recently wrote. It is fiction, obviously. I hope you enjoy it.

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Hey, my name is Jule Walbridge, and I have a confession to make. You see, I really enjoy peeing my panties. Wetting myself is a turn on for me, and it has been ever since my senior year in high school. If you are weirded out by this, I am sorry (and you probably shouldn't read any further). It just feels really nice to get this off my chest because I've never told anyone my secret before (and it was killing me!). Now let me tell you a story about the first time I wet my panties:

At the age of 18, I was ready to leave adolescence behind and start being an "adult". However, one of the first things I did was probably the least "adult" thing I could do - I wet my panties.

I wasn't really trying to wet my panties... I was just really bored. You see, I was a senior in high school and it was the last week of school. I was basically done with everything - all my classes were just time fillers... extremely boring time fillers.

It was seventh period, almost the end of the day, and I really had to pee. All I had to do was raise my hand and ask, yet I didn't feel like it. It was hot, I was tired, and I was busy trying to find ways to entertain myself. Basically, I began opening up my pee hole and waiting for the pee to sneak up to the opening, then I would clench my muscles and force the pee back in. I don't have the slightest idea why I was doing this, but it was somewhat entertaining compared to listening to Mr. Blofis, the teacher. Besides, it was strangely pleasurable, too.

Soon enough, my pee was leaking out as I did this. But only a little bit each time. I hardly noticed that I was getting wetter and wetter. After about 15 minutes, I came out of my stupor and realized that I was feeling rather wet and warm down there.

Slightly alarmed, I discretely placed a hand on my panties to check. Yep - I was soaked, but still needed to pee very badly. It felt as though the constant opening and closing of my pee hole had weakened my muscles. I needed to pee worse than before. Thank God I hadn't been sitting on my skirt. My white, bikini cotton panties took a beating, so my skirt definitely would have, too.

Just as I was raising my hand to ask to go to the restroom, the bell rang. I ran to the bathroom, but it was crowded... just my luck. I couldn't be late for Mrs. Oligeri's class. We were done with work for the year, but she still got mad if students were tardy. Even worse, she refused to let anyone use the restrooms during class.

I asked her anyways, but I got the answer I expected: No!

I was sent back to my desk to write an easy, yet lengthy essay with my left hand while my right hand pressed firmly against my soaked panties. I managed to get through the class without much further damage, but I didn't even bother running to the bathroom afterward. It was the end of the day and I had to catch my bus.

As I hobbled onto bus No.47 and into my seat, my bladder screamed as if it knew that I was getting farther away from the nearest bathroom. As the bus started up, all I could do was bite my lip and hope to make it home.

At my stop, I got up and saw that I had left a nice, butt-shaped wet print on my seat. I quickly got off and hurried in the direction of my house. Only one more mile to go, I thought to myself.

With only a half-mile left to go, I could barely move without leaking. My legs were streaked with pee and a few tears streaked my face. I knew I would never make it home. My bladder was a bomb and the detonator was going off... right now!

I looked around and saw no one to ask for help (which meant no one to laugh at me, either). I sat down in the grass beside the road, put my head in my arms and began to cry. I had lost the battle and my little white panties were paying the price.

All of a sudden, the bomb went off and I began gushing into my panties. At first, I tried to stop it, but I realized it was no use. I pushed as hard as I could to give relief to my straining bladder. There was an audible hiss from my pee hitting m.... more

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