Wetting Pants Stories Novels & Stories

I guess there’s no point in modesty in a strip club. The strip club was a relatively nice place, but the bathroom looked like it belonged in a crack house. I saw a hook to hand my bag, and then I began to take down my pantyhose and I couldn’t believe what I saw. My underwear, as well as the crotch part of the pantyhose were soaking wet. I had no idea I was that turned on, and I knew it had to have been Whisper that got me that wet. I peed and just as I was wiping myself (and my inner thighs that were also wet with my juices), the doors swung open.

I know my panties must be wet, it has happened to me countless times, sometimes i even thought of how his huge dick will feel in my throat. I know am not supposed to have this feeling but i just can't help myself from admiring his figure. "he's just so perfect", i thought..i quickly said sorry and told him i brought his juice before leaving his room with my heart pounding in my chest and my pussy so wet that i can feel it dripping .

he asked, frowning slightly. "Uh… my panties are wet," I blurted before my brain could catch up. Silence. Then, he blinked. Slowly. "Your panties are wet? Why would you even tell me that?" His brows lifted, like he couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. I swallowed hard. "Well, you asked, and I gave an honest answer," I muttered with a shrug, pretending like I wasn’t currently dying inside. He looked at me like I had personally offended his entire lineage. "That is highly unprofessional. And why the hell would you wear wet panties to an interview?"

He pressed his body against my back, and I could feel how hard he already was, his bulge pushing against my ass. One of his hands slid down, under the hem of my maid dress. He didn't waste time. His fingers hooked into my panties, and with a quick yank, he ripped them off. The fabric tore easily, and I gasped as the cool air hit my bare skin. My pussy was already getting wet just from his touch. He tossed the ripped panties aside, somewhere on the floor. I felt exposed, but it made me throb with need.

(Author wanted to write a fantasy of abandoned souls and empty shells of hollow carcasses but the author is lost in a different world of his own thoughts and nightmares, he has a regret of being wrong at the edge of the clearest right opted path that he had pave for the truth and ended up with a lie of being good, but he is the worst of his own creation of any character and in every emotion that he felt but after the time has passed, he suffered like a shooting star and created a hinge in the depths of his stoned heart). That kid was still crying (I hate the screams that they make while crying, tears are acceptable) and a pack of wolves heard his little noises. I'm not cruel, I just enjoy th

The people around us were all snickering. Behind me, Jessica was kneeling, crying and saying, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I turned around and realized that there was a puddle of light yellow water beneath her, and there were traces of water on her pants as well... Both Katy and Teresa covered their noses. Katy first said, "Oh, I can't believe you wet your pants. Luckily I know you're a human, or I'll think it's an animal here." After she said that, Jessica lowered her face even more.

The wet squelch was deafening—cum from earlier loads churning into foam, bubbling out around his shaft with every pull-back, dripping in thick strands onto the mat below. He came fast. Buried deep and unloaded with a guttural groan, hot spurts flooding me until I felt the pressure build in my guts again. When he pulled out, a thick gush followed—white cream pouring out in a steady stream, running down my crack, pooling under my tailbone. Next man was already there—didn’t even wait for the first to step away. Shorter, thicker, cock like a battering ram. He shoved in through the fresh load, grunting as my hole stretched around him again.

The apartment’s silence presses against me, the air heavy, as if the story’s heat is choking the room. I keep going, the words filthier: "He spreads my ass cheeks, his fingers sliding along my wet pussy, teasing my entrance. 'You’re soaked, slut,' he growls, and I moan, loud, reckless, the sound echoing. His thumb circles my clit, slow, torturous, until I’m bucking, begging for his cock. He unzips his pants, his dick thick, veined, the head glistening with precum. He rubs it against my slit, coating himself in my juices, and I whimper, my cunt desperate." My thighs press together, my pussy soaking through my shorts, the fabric sticking to my skin. I want to touch myself, but I don’t, not yet

I could see it in their eyes—they could smell my wetness, sense the whore awakening beneath my prim facade. Class dragged on in a haze of tension. Every time I crossed my legs, my swollen pussy lips squished together, sending sparks through me. I was leaking badly now, the crotch of my panties sodden and clinging obscenely. If I stood up too fast, they'd see the dark wet patch on my skirt. The thought horrified me... and made me even wetter.

After few minutes: She went to the washroom to clean herself and take a shower. After she came out of the shower , completely wet and naked he just kept looking at her flawless body . She was the most perfect specimen of a woman he has ever laid his eyes on . Her boobs looked even more perfect than he imagined them to be when he first saw her in parking. Her pussy was so tight that it's not even funny how physically perfect someone can be.