I used to wet intentionally lots of times as a kid. I vividly remember my first time on purpose and the pleasurable sensations when about six years old. This may seem familiar to some since I posted it at Omorashi.org under the pseudonym WetMePants.
I was playing at the woods edge with my best neighborhood buddy and had a powerful need to pee. It would have been the norm to just unzip and take care of business right there. But for some reason I felt the urge to do it in my pants. I told my friend I needed to pee and that I could just go in my pants. He urged me not to, but I was determined. I was wearing new blue jeans that still had their deep dark blue color and stiffness. I spread my legs apart as we both watched my crotch darken and the wet stain radiate down the inseams of both legs to my shoes. Maybe I was predisposed for this kink, but from that point onward it never diminished.
Also, around this time I had a bedwetting incident. I was awake, though I’m not sure how fully conscious I was. I woke at daylight with a powerful urge to pee. Could be the urge might have woken me. Anyway, I was awake enough to sense when I let loose and the long strong stream that soaked my undies and summer weight PJs. Then I drifted back to sleep only to be woken up by my grandmother. My sister who I was sharing the bed with must have ratted me out.
At some point I developed a liking for letting go spurts in my pants. It probably had as much to with the naughty thrill of doing as it did with the wet reminder it left in my crotch. I didn’t always do it the same way. Sometimes I’d sit on the toilet with my underpants still on and wet the pouch. I’ve always loved that sight. Then I’d pull my pants up over it. I know I tried doing the full wetting that way too, but that would soak through and show, so had to be careful with that one.
I remember one day playing with the girl across the street except this time we were at her grandmother’s home up the street. We were playing in an old pigeon coop that had two small rooms, windows, and a door... We were playing school and I was the student. Except I was playing my own game by edging with my piss. Eventually I’d let go with some spurts in my pants. Nancy didn’t know I was doing it. Once or twice, I said I needed to go home to go to the bathroom, but really, I just wanted to inspect my wet underpants. I know that seems tame, but there were more times when we both wet together.
I used to sneak an extra pair of undies down my pants and head down to my treehouse behind my grandparent’s house. In my treehouse I’d remove my pants and soak my briefs. Afterwards I’d hide the evidence in some nearby rocks. I did it enough times that eventually I had a stash of dried peed undies to wet repeatedly. Of course, that would be when it was warm enough outside.
I’d also wet undies, pants, and shorts in my bedroom and need to hide them until they dried, and I could then throw them in the hamper to be washed. I don’t know how much my mother suspected anything. One time she confronted me at the dinner table in front of my dad and siblings. My mom wanted to know why a pair of my pants in the hamper were wet. I acted dumb like it was a mystery to me. The act wasn’t difficult because I was truly dumfounded not recalling doing anything very recently. Maybe she was on to me, I don’t know, and wanted to embarrass me.