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On the Underground

 When I was about 19 I think, I was working in an office in Central London and commuting in from Clapham Common, where I lived at that time.  If you know London you will know that this means using not just the tube (underground) but the Northern Line, which is the most overcrowded and unreliable part of all.  It wasn't so bad at night coming home for some reason but in the morning it was always packed with people, pushing and shoving and, being summertime also stiflingly hot.

Some people try to read on the tube, others listen to music but however you do it, the important thing is to transport your mind away from where you actually are!  I used to do this by daydreaming, mostly about my immediate boss whom I really fancied, having no boyfriend (or girlfriend!) at that time, I was permanently horny and desperate for sex!  Wetting my knickers had been a major sexual kick for well over 10 years by then so naturally this also was something I fantasised about on the train journey to work.

As the days passed, my sexual frustration got worse and worse, my boss was ignoring me and my fingers in bed at night just weren't enough.  My fantasies became more vivid and when my mind wandered to the inevitable mental image of David putting me over his knee like a naughty girl and smacking my bottom, I would wee just a tiny bit in my knickers, before regaining my senses and somehow stopping myself.  When I am spanked, I do wet myself, hence the physical reaction to my fantasies I suppose!  So I would wiggle my way off the tube at Bank station in my high heels and wiggle my way up the steep stairs then the escalator, well aware that my bottom looked fabulous in the short black silky skirt that was the assistants uniform in the office.  I always wore stockings too, not hold-up's but proper black, seamed stockings with suspenders (it was quite a well-paid job - shame it didn't last!), and the suspender clips and the faint outline of my knickers were visible through the tight, silky fabric.

There was always some lad behind me, admiring my rear end and hoping for a glimpse of stocking top.  They were rarely disappointed, I am a terrible tease!!  What they didn't see was the wet gusset of my knickers where I had peed myself a little bit on the tube.  The thought of teasing these poor, young city guys while all the time having wet myself in my little, usually white, cotton knickers, just made me so incredibly horny, the first thing I did when I got to the office was visit the Ladies to rub myself off through my wet cotton crotch.  One young lad in particular, clearly in his first job with his poorly fitting high street grey suit, would often be waiting for me at the bottom of the escalator.  I would give him a special treat by walking up, instead of standing, quite slowly to allow him plenty of time to admire my stockings.  I don't think he ever saw my knickers and it was far too public to give him a flash.

One morning, when I happened to be feeling particularly horny, I was standing in the crush on the tube, quite near the door.  Daydreaming as usual, just getting to the bit where David was smacking my bottom over my little white cotton knickers and I had just started to wet myself, I felt something hard pressing into my bottom.  In reality being pretty much scared of my own shadow at that age, I didn't turn round and confront the owner of the umbrella, which is what I thought it was, I just shuffled forward an inch or two, to releive the pressure of whatever object it was pressing into my bottom.

We passed one station and then stopped in the tunnel, as often happens.  The train jerked to a stop, throwing everone into one another and I felt something else behind me, on my behind.  This time there was no mistaking the firm caress of a strong hand roaming over the silky seat of my skirt, fingering my suspenders, tracing the outline of my knickers.  I can only explain what I did next by the fact that I was so incredibly aroused and sexually frustrated. I pushed my bottom back firmly onto the groping hand.  The strain wasn't moving so it was clear to my fondler that I was enjoying what he was doing and wanted more.  As I said I had already got to the knicker-wetting part of my wet(!) dream and the gusset of my cotton knickers was already soaking wet with my pee.

Briefly, the hand lost contact with my bottom but only to reconnect lower down, on the top of my left thigh under my skirt.  Rubbing my stocking tops and the naked flesh between there and my knickers, I squatted very slightly and parted my legs, inviting the hand to explore further.  I felt the hand stop as the fingertips made contact with the wet gusset of my knickers, its owner clearly discovering but not quite believing that I had wet myself.  I was so pleased the train started to move then, very slowly and jerkily, as expert fingers were now rubbing my crotch vigorously and I couldn't help but press down on the exploring digits as they massaged my swollen clittoris.  Three times those fingers tried to invade my knickers but each time I closed my legs, making it clear where the limit was.

The rubbing of my knickers, over my bottom and deep between my legs was surely going to make me come and doing that quietly was something I could not often manage!  So I thought I would have some fun with my new friend, parted my knees as wide as I dared, contracted my stomach muscles and pissed my knickers, soaking the ************ hand, pee running down my legs and soaking my stockings.   I reasoned that the skirt would show nothing, I could bin the stockings and no-one would be any the wiser, except for me spending a horny day in very wet knickers.  He did make me come, just as the train pulled into bank station so I managed to hide my reaction, ******* hips, grunting etc., among the crowd piling off the train.  I did look back but had no way of identifying the lovely man who had given me a lovely ****** amid the crowd.

When I got to the escalator, trying to stay in the midst of the crush so my wet stockings would not be noticed, sure enough my young stalker was waiting for me.  This time though, he wasn't pretending to be invisible, he was looking straight at me and smiling as I approached.  Stepping in front of me, just as I was about to step into the escalator, with a sweeping gentlemanly gesture of his right arm, he indicated that I should go first.  Imagine my surprise when I noticed that the bottom three inches of the arm of his grey suit jacket were very dark in colour, very wet looking in fact!

Tarawetknicks Tarawetknicks 31-35, F 12 Responses May 12, 2009

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Fabulous sexy story - It made me so turned I let a little bit of wee out!

I used to really enjoy travelling on the tube for that reason and still do! The feeling of a hard, throbbing **** pushing its way between my bum cheeks through a short, tight skirt, is sooooo horny! If I had more courage, once in a while I would reach behind me and release the beast and give him a good rubbing!

Great story, it made my **** hard and had to play with it whilst reading.<br />
I used to love a packed tube and having a lady pressed up against me whilst my **** would get hard.<br />
If you ever want another wet session on the tube I would be happy to oblige x

i just really wish i was that stalker, id give anything to see that

WoW ! What a great story/fantasy. Lucky for me to be sat here wearing a nappy as it's soaking wet now, and sticky................ !!

I've seen your pictures Drumer and that is some c**k you have! I'm glad you actively enjoyed my story, thinking of you actively enjoying it makes me a very horny girl!

Not many Rachael I think, or every bit of park would be spotted with patches of yellow dying grass!!

Hey Tara, I have to wonder how many woman sit in the parks with their skirts up like you and wet their knicks. I know I do, have done so many times in the past. Love your fantasy, thanks and keep it up!

Tara, your fantasy is my fantasy, but i'm the gent watching. Thanks.

Fantastic fantasy, i have to admit i have my c**k in hand while reading your comment. I have let a bit of pee out and it has run down and wet my pants, I am imagining you watching me and urging me on to do more pee, you hold your hand out (but dont touch me) and catch my ***, you smile and rub my *** into your pee soaked gusset as you also ******. <br />
Oops there we go! now for the clean up !!!<br />
drumer x x x

That horny little experience from my past did end where I said it did and I never set eyes on him again. In my fevered imagination since (i.e. my **** fantasies!), I wish it had concluded something like this:<BR><BR>At lunch time I leave work to go to the park, Finsbury Circus in the City, (as I always did in fact when it was a warm day, to sit in the sun with my skirt just clear of my bottom so that no-one would notice me peeing myself, unless I wanted them to!). Taking up my spot in a relatively secluded part by the back fence of the bowling green, shuffling my bum so my skirt is clear of my knickers (and having removed my wet stockings much earlier), I feel the cool, damp grass on my cotton knickered bottom. I take my book from my bag, draw my knees up and prepare to wet my knickers for the second time this day. I look up and there he is, sat opposite me not 10 feet away, smiling and making no pretence about not looking up my skirt!<BR><BR>I should (and in reality, would!) panic of course, he's followed me, what does he want? Can he make trouble for me at work? Is he dangerous? But no, none of these things enter my simple and sex-addled brain, I'm wondering if he can see pee stains on my gusset! I KNOW he can see my gusset, he's slyly rubbing his **** through his trousers, half-hidden by a newspaper and he's still smiling at me! What do I do? Do I get up and run away, well hobble away in my five inch heels, no of course I don't, I smile back and spread my legs wider, making sure there's enough light up there so that he can definitely see the wee wee stains on my knicks!<BR><BR>I'm so horny now all I want is his **** in my mouth or inside me but reasoning that's not going to happen, I settle for giving him a show. Checking no one is close enough to notice what I'm about to do, I spread my legs wide, drawing my knees right up and I **** myself, flooding my already peed-in knickers with fresh urine. I know he can see the dark spreading stain and my pee spurting right through the thin cotton.<BR><BR>Now its him who's in some discomfort as I watch him rub his **** just a little bit too hard. His eyes close and his head jerks back; he's come in his pants and trousers, I can see the stain spreading between HIS legs. He does see the funny side though as he smiles at me ruefully as I giggle at his plight.<BR><BR>With another swift check that no-one is watching me, I lift my soaking wet bottom off the grass and in one swift movement, my wet knickers are around my ankles and then carefully removed over my shoes and discarded, in a sodden little twisted heap of white cotton, beside me on the grass. And then, with a smile and a wave, being careful not to flash my naked ***** at him, I stand up and walk smartly away.<BR><BR>I count to 20 and look back, sure enough in time to see my admirer stooping to pick up my pee-soaked and dirty knickers, smiling after me as he slips them in his pocket and heads for the nearest Gents to clean up!<BR><BR>That little extra fantasy makes my ************ sessions that much more intense and I do wish it had ended that way!

Fantastic story !! What a lucky guy he was, Iwish it had been me, I wouldn't have been able to follow you up the escalator I would have had to go to the nearest loo for a jerk off.<br />
drumer x x