Wetting Pants Stories Novels & Stories

The kind of wet that soaks through underwear and makes the fabric cling. Six days ago I walked in on my ex inside another woman and felt nothing but relief. Relief that I could stop pretending. Stop being Boring Betty — the quiet girl who never asked for more than missionary and a goodnight kiss, who faked orgasms because it was easier than explaining what she actually needed, who went home after safe, bland sex and touched herself to fantasies so dark they scared her. I sign my name at 6:55 PM. My legs are trembling as I walk the envelope to the executive suite. My underwear is ruined. I can feel how swollen I am with every step, my clit pulsing against the wet lace, my nipples stiff under

I panicked, Jax slipping out the window like a ghost. Body aching, pussy throbbing, I dressed slow, cum still inside. Downstairs, his eyes met mine over coffee promise of more anytime. The weekend? Far from over.

Leave your panties at home. I was in a deposition at 10 AM—some bullshit merger dispute—and I couldn't focus on a single word being said. All I could think about was sitting across from Ryan with my bare pussy exposed under the table. About his fingers sliding up my thigh. About him testing me to see if I'd actually obeyed. God, I'm such a slut. The thought made me wetter. By the time I got back to my office, my panties were soaked through. I took them off in the bathroom, shoved them in my purse, and put on the dress I'd brought—a simple black wrap dress that tied at the waist. Easy access.

"Strip from the waist down, Riley skirt, panties off now, then climb up and spread for your boss like the eager little slut who came twice on my cock yesterday." My breath caught but heat surged through me like wildfire, fingers fumbling with the zipper as I shimmied the skirt down my hips letting it pool at my heels before hooking thumbs into the lace. panties still damp from morning fantasies and kicking them aside, climbing onto the cool glass surface on all fours facing him with thighs parted wide enough to expose my glistening pussy. ass up and vulnerable while his groan of approval vibrated through the air as he stood, belt unbuckling with a metallic clink that made me clench in antici

Chapter 1: Caught Fucking Around Trigger warning: This story is raw, gritty. It's not the kind that pets you. It will strip you off your pride like a little dirty dog, take you to your peak and punish you harder. When you're done, your pussy won't be the only thing that leaks... your master's marks will be your new tattoo, and little puppy, you'll thank him for it. Drop now if you hate dirty stories with degradation. Britanny's POV

Now he wants to see how wet sluts get when they’re told the truth. Then he pushed that large hand between my legs and forced my thighs apart. I nearly came when he pressed two fingers over my panties. He didn't even move them; he just rested there. And guess what? The fabric was soaked. Of course it was. We both watched as it got really damp cause I was so fucking shameless, I was gushing just from his fingers pressed down on my puffy cunt. He didn't say anything until I leaked down the sides of my thighs, and he chuckled.

Her legs were shaky as she turned off the water and dried her face. She dropped her charcoal-gray trousers and pink panties and sat on the toilet. A glance told her that those panties were drenched. Her hand reached out to grab the rag from the edge of the sink, pulling it once again to her face. Her other hand snaked down between her thighs to spread the petals of her soaking wet little pussy. She shook as soon as the tip of her finger touched her sensitive little button.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Professor Ryan Gray’s cum leaking out of me all day. The way it had dripped down my thighs while I sat in his chair yesterday, thick and warm, while he filmed it like I was his personal p**n star. My pussy was still sore this morning, but that only made me wetter. I changed my panties three times before his lecture because every time I remembered his thumb stretching my asshole while he pumped my cunt full, I soaked through another pair.

My body betrayed me completely, hole fluttering around his finger as he added a second one. “You’re getting wetter,” he murmured, pumping his fingers in and out while stroking my cock faster. “Listen to those sounds. So sloppy for the man who owns you.” “Shut up,” I moaned, head falling back against the pillows. I tried to fight it, tried to hold onto the anger, but every thrust of his fingers made my resolve crack. “I… I don’t want this.” “Your hole says different.” He scissored his fingers wider, stretching me open, eyes locked on my face. “Look at you squirming. Begging without words.”

My cock ached to see her tits, but they were still hidden under her bra and shirt. Cockblocked by cotton. Boo. “You ruined your pants?” She asked, pulling me out of my dirty thoughts. I glanced down, and sure enough, a dark wet spot had bloomed across the front of my jeans. My dick throbbed painfully against the damp fabric. I hadn’t come in my pants like that since I was a goddamn teenager. No. Since Katie hugged me at her birthday party years ago and I had to sneak into her bathroom to jerk off to the smell of her shampoo.