I Started Wetting My Pants Very Young
From the age of 6 I can remember playing with my friends on the block after school.
One day I pushing my friend in a cart up the hill I suddenly I had a very strong urge to wee, but before I could think about relieving myself there was a sudden squirt in my pants.
I stopped pushing the cart, stood up straight and looked down at my pants. There was a large wet patch in the front of my shorts. Having let go of cart it ran backwards into my legs and it was painful. My concentration shifted to the painful collision with legs and suddenly I was emptying my bladder into my pants.
My friend looked back and didn’t even comment. He waited patiently while I completely wet my pants and just looked forward again expectantly to be pushed up the hill.
I felt encouraged by his apparent lack of interest and we continued playing as if nothing had happened.
Later that afternoon it was my turn in the cart. We reached the top of hill and he sat down on the road, as if to rest. He opened his legs wide and started wetting his pants. I was absolutely astounded, but also intrigued as I watched the streams of pee running down the road. In keeping with his previous non interest, I too said nothing.
The next day after school we were playing again. One minute his pants were dry and next they were very visibly wet. I could no longer resist and asked him if he often wet his pants. “All the time” was his answer. From that moment onwards, if we were playing and I had an urge I too would simply let go and wet. Soon we had a circle of friends who participated with us as if it were the most normal thing to do.
The school I attended had a very convenient uniform. The shorts were a very dark navy and they were heavily lined on the inside as well. The last half hour at school was storey time and the teacher would make everybody put down their heads on the desk to ensure everybody was good and calm. This particular day I had run an errand for teacher at break and had missed my regular toilet break. By the time it was storey time at the end of the day I was bursting to the point of tears. In fact, I did not ask to leave to room because by that time I realised that if I stood up, I would wet my pants. The mere pressure of having to bend over forward to lay my head on the desk, sent a sharp burst of wee into my pants, shortly followed by another long squirt. I very nearly just let go and continued as I instinctively knew I was about to completely wet my pants before class end. I had wet my pant many times before this in class but not on a regular basis and not yet in this class, and mostly on purpose and controlled, so I never had let go of it all. This day I knew was different. I just knew it would be all and that all was going to be a lot as well!
So I mustered up all the courage I could, cupped my hands over my ***** and squeezed as hard as I could. The front of pants were very wet and squeezing so hard I had lifted myself from my seat. I could feel that I was wet right up my b*m.
Suddenly I noticed the little girl that sat next to me looking very intently at my body language but most specifically at my hand under the desk. She smiled and whispered “are you getting wet” Being bowled over by her casual and honest assessment of the situation and my near panic state, I confessed before I had to time to think what I was saying. “I am wetting my pants” I said. “I know” she said, immediately followed by ‘It happens to me too”
I am not sure if I let go or I involuntarily wet – but I it all ran out and for some reason I experienced a very strange but nice feeling, a very tingly feeling that made me rub even while it was coming at full force. Fortunately, we both sat in the back row against the wall – so nobody behind. As mentioned I had wet my pants before, but never to the point that it had made a puddle on the floor. It now even ran down my legs and into my socks and shoes. Amazingly only she and I seemed to know what had happened. She stayed seated as the class broke up that day, as I did also, waiting for everybody to leave the room. She was talking non stop, most of which I did not really hear, as my focus was being able to leave the room undetected as to my accident. What I was aware of was that all her talking seemed to be about pants wetting. When the class had emptied, she said “look what you made me do” and as saying that she turned in her chair and lifted her school dress. Opening her legs wide, she revealed her panties and they were very wet. We formed a very strong friendship and by the end of that year we had reached the point where we both wet our pants daily at school and most days up to three times during classes and always on the way home. But that’s for another storey.