A0004

Description

Wetting Scene 1:

An introverted, beautiful blonde in her 20s was spotted looking rather anxious in a toilet queue. She’s already nearing the end of the line, as this seemed nothing compared to the typically enormous queues you’d see in these festivals.

The poor girl probably started queuing too late, and her bladder’s about to betray her.

Then suddenly her posture changed. A subtle tremor ran through her. Her shoulders stiffened. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying desperately to look natural. Her baggy Toyota outfit wasn’t enough to hide the mess from the public After tensing her body up for several minutes, urine started leaking into her skinny jeans.
The wet patches formed on her jeans slowly but obviously as more fresh pee trickled out of the desperate girl.

She tried her best to make it seem as if nothing happened, though it’s obvious as daylight to both the crowd and her friends that she didn’t make it to the loo in time. The embarrassed girl continued queuing up even after dribbling repeatedly as she’s obviously not emptied her full bladder yet.

It must’ve been a memorable day for her.

Bonus if you pay attention: the chubbier girl in red skirt behind our pants-pissing girl was also very desperate.

Wetting Scene 2:

The enormous crowd in front of the few porta-potties was desperate for a relief after too much drinking. A gorgeous brunette girl stood out immediately in the long queue, dressed in a delicate Tinkerbell-inspired fairy costume for the festival.

Her bright green, revealing miniskirt was well complemented by the sheer, tight fleshcolored stockings.

She wasn’t even trying to hide her desperation anymore. Like a little girl who’d waited far too long, she was doing a full-on pee dance right there in the queue.

The attractive lady bounced on her tiptoes, hips wiggling, losing all her elegance as a supposed fairy. Even squirming around wasn’t enough to contain all the fluids in her full bladder.

Unfortunately for her, the stockings are making her accident obvious to the naked eyes. A long, glistening wet streak of fresh piss raced down her left leg. The liquid traced a clear, betraying path from high on her inner thigh all the way toward her back of her knee, making the tight fabric cling transparently to her skin.

She kept dancing, shifting from foot to foot like an impatient little girl. She seemed only a fraction relieved, with her bladder still dangerously full, forcing her to keep fighting, keep squirming, keep praying for the queue to end before the next uncontrollable wave hit.

It must’ve been extremely shameful for her to be the fairy girl that peed herself while hopping like a child in front of everyone.