#peepants

Carrying a tray of drinks with a full bladder. You can see all of the drinks flowing and the ice crackling. Your bladder can hardly take it.

I remember a year or 2 before covid I was dating a chick I met at the mall when this story happened.

We'd been planning a date all week dinner at that steak place downtown, then hockey tickets. She wore that sweater I liked. I wore my good jeans, the ones she said made my ass look nice. We were flirting through dinner, her foot brushing my leg under the table.

The arena was packed when we got there. We found our seats, tight together, her thigh pressed against mine. I bought us both tall beers.

First period flew by. We were laughing, her lips at my ear.

By the second period, the pressure started-that low, dull ache below my stomach that I never read right. I shifted, legs spreading then closing. Her hand found my knee. "You okay?" she asked.

"Just uncomfortable," I said.

The third period started. The ache grew heavier. I was pressing my palm against my lower abdomen, leaning forward. Small farts kept escaping. I saw her eyes drop to my lap, watching me fidget, my hand moving lower.

"You're holding yourself," she observed, voice tight. "Bathroom. Now."

She dragged me through the row, me shuffling, hunched, one hand clamped on my dick. We stumbled down the hallway, her arm around my waist. "Excuse us, he needs the bathroom," she announced, embarrassed.

I was leaking with every step-hot spurts soaking my grip, running down my thigh, the dark spot on my jeans growing. She kept her arm tight, practically dragging me.

We burst through the bathroom door. She pushed me toward a stall, locking it behind us. "Pants down," she ordered, her hands at my waist.

I tried to sit, but my body gave out. She grabbed my cock, aiming me at the toilet-but the damage was done. Hot piss gushed out, spraying everywhere, soaking my jeans, her hands, the floor. And she was stroking me, her fingers wrapped around me, feeling me spurt and pulse.

"Fuck," she moaned, turned on, her hand working me through the stream, stroking me, her thumb brushing the head. "You're pissing and you're so hard."

She kept stroking, faster, her hands soaked, her eyes locked on mine. "Gonna come?" she asked, her voice filthy.

I nodded, gasping, and she stroked me harder until I came-spurting into her palm, my hips bucking, her hand milking me.

She wiped her hands on my ruined jeans, yanked them up roughly. "Come on," she said, pulling me out of the stall, past staring faces, out to the parking lot.

The car beeped. She shoved me into the back seat, stripped my wet clothes, her touch teasing, lingering. She unfolded a thick diaper, slid a booster in, taped it snug. The padding rose up thick. Then she pulled the spare sweatpants up-baggy, gray.

"There," she said, smacking the padded front. "Now you can relax."

We went back in, found new seats, upper level. She bought me two more beers, her hand on my knee. "Drink up," she whispered. "You don't have to worry anymore."

I sat through the rest of the game relaxed, the thick padding between my legs, knowing I was covered. She kept her hand on my thigh, occasionally patting the hidden bulk.

The game ended. I drove us home, the thick diaper crinkling softly beneath me as I shifted. We were on the highway, streetlights passing, when she unbuckled her seatbelt.

"What-"

She climbed over the center console, her body pressing against mine, her hands already at my waistband. "Keep driving," she whispered, yanking my sweatpants down, her palm pressing against the thick diaper front, feeling me hard and throbbing for her. "I've got you."

She pulled the tapes loose with a sharp rip, shoved the booster and padding aside, and grabbed my cock-squeezing it, feeling it pulse in her grip-then guided it to her slick entrance and sank down onto me, hot and tight and ready, impaling herself completely right there as I drove. Her hips immediately started working aggressively, grinding down hard, taking me balls-deep with every slam, her mouth at my ear, her teeth grazing my neck, the steering wheel pressing against her back, cars passing us on the highway oblivious.

"Relax," she breathed, her body slamming down on me, her wet heat gripping me tight. "I've got you. Just drive."

I gripped the wheel, gasping as she rode me, her weight on my lap, the untapped diaper crumpled beneath us. She fucked me harder, relentless, her hips bucking, grinding her clit against me with every downstroke, her fingers digging into my shoulders hard enough to bruise. I felt it building fast-too fast-the pressure coiling at the base of my spine.

I came inside her-spurting deep and thick, my cock jerking, filling her, my hips bucking off the seat-but she didn't stop. She kept riding me, aggressive, using my sensitive, spent cock, her body milking me, squeezing around me, grinding down harder. She rode me faster, her tits bouncing against my chest through her sweater, her ass slapping against my thighs, her wetness dripping down onto the crumpled diaper beneath us, taking me toward a second edge without words, just her body demanding more.

I came again-spurting deep inside her a second time, my cock pulsing, my gasps swallowed by her mouth as she kissed me hard-and still she didn't stop. She kept grinding, frantic now, using my twice-spent cock to chase her own edge, her clit rubbing against me, her body tensing.

She finally broke-coming hard on me, her body shuddering, her cry swallowed against my neck, her pussy clamping and fluttering on my sensitive shaft-and then I felt it, hot and sudden and endless, her piss flooding out of her, soaking my lap, pouring into the untapped diaper beneath us. The padding swelled instantly, hot and heavy, absorbing her release, her weight pressing the warm wetness into my skin, her body still shuddering through the aftershocks of her orgasm as she kept pissing, emptying herself completely onto me.

And let it all go. Right there in your pants. Soak them. Feel the warmth spread down your legs. Leave a huge puddle all over the floor.

When you can, you should piss yourself. Wear a nice pair of pants or shorts where you can see all the streams and wetness and then absolutely FLOOD that thing.