I found this story with some Female Desperation and Panty Peeing

Anne and I were walking home from the club we always go to. It was a warm night in late September. I was feeling a little bit drunk…I used to drink a lot back then. I said: “Girl, I sure have to pee as soon as we get home!” Anne replied: “Yeah me too!” We walked for a while, talking about nothing. I started walking faster as we got closer to my home. I had to go really bad. After a few more minutes, we reached my front door and I went looking for my keys in my pockets. Anne noticed how hasty I was. “What is it honey? You have to go bad?” she teased me. “YES!!” I replied. I was really bursting by then. She moved up close behind me and started softly tickling my waist. I couldn’t believe she was tickling me! She knew I am ticklish. I yelled at her: “Dont do that!” But she started tickling harder. I started to piss my panties. I wanted to cut it off but I just started peeing harder instead. By the time I could stop the pee gushing out of my body, my jeans were all soaked. We went inside. The fabric of my jeans was all warm and wet, sticking to my thighs. I like that feeling, but I also felt really emberrassed at the time and I took my jeans off. I wanted to fully undress and take a shower. But then I saw Anne going into my bathroom. My heart started to beat faster at the idea of getting even with her. I ran over to her and took her by the hand. I pulled her away from the bathroom, into the kitchen. I pushed her down on the floor, my hands on her shoulders and my knees on both sides of her waist. She yelled: “Let me go! I gotta pee!” I just smiled. I saw panic in her eyes and that really turned me on. I took one hand of her shoulder and pulled up her skirt…pulling it up all the way over her panties. I started firmly rubbing over her belly, then over her panties. I cupped her crotch in my hand and squeezed. She kept screaming that she couldn’t hold it any longer. And I kept rythmically squeezing. I felt some hot pee gush into her panties…over my hand. But she stopped peeing right away. She couldn’t squat while lying on her back. I put my hand back on her shoulder, leaned forward, kissed her forehead. I felt my bladder was still half full. I was way too excited to stop…I wanted more… needed more! I closed my eyes. Pictured a toilet. I pressured. I started pissing in my panties. Wetting her skirt and panties under me. I kept pissing until I was empty. And she was soaked. I rolled off her. Anne stood up to run to the bathroom, but she really couldn’t hold it in anymore. As soon as she got on her feet, her piss came gushing out. She decided to squat on me instead. She stood over me, her piss bursting out of her body, gushing from under her skirt, falling on my tits. My sweater got soaked and I felt the hot pee running over my boobs. When she was done, I told her to undress and take a shower. I cleaned the kitchen floor and threw all our clothes in the washer. Then I joined her in the shower. I looked her in the eye. She looked back, emberrassed. She said she was sorry for getting my pants wet in the first place. I blushed. I told her that I actually liked it. Apologized for getting her clothes wet too instead of just letting her go to the bathroom. She admitted that she had been turned on at the front door, watching me while I had to pee so bad. That she had tickled me out of sexual excitement. I walked up to her and took her in my arms. Kissed her ear. Told her that I didn’t blame her for anything. Asked her if she blamed me. She didn’t. We haven’t had wetsex ever since. Anne and I don’t have sex at all. I’m engaged to a guy now. All that remains is a real naughty memory that we share. Nobody else knows about it. And my fiance can only guess why I like wetsex so much.

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