My wife is forced to hold her pee and wet her shorts

This story involves a woman’s “forced” desperation to hold her pee, peeing in her jean shorts and mutual arousal from that pee play. If these things don’t interest you, don’t read . . .


My wife, Heather, and I both went on a cruise recently to Mexico. Of course, we both ate too much and put on a few extra pounds. When we returned home, I was sitting on the couch next to her one night idly rubbing and stroking her back. We were watching TV and chatting about needing to work out and lose the weight. Heather mentioned that she need a “workout cop” to monitor her progress.

This story is about how I became her “workout cop” and used her love of naughty peeing to keep her focused. Or, more importantly, how I used her love of naughty pee to my maximum benefit . . . lol.

As I continued to rub her back, I asked her what rewards or punishments she would need to stay on track with exercise. Heather laughed and said the back rubbing was a good start and maybe some naughty pee play; she wasn’t sure about a punishment but she knew I could come up with something good.

So, we came up with the following plan: she would work out four days a week and, if she had a good day of exercise and watched her food intake, she’d get a back rub when she wanted it and she’d get her pussy licked while peeing (which she readily admits she now LOVES and it drives her absolutely wild). Of course, this “reward” also is good for me because watching her piss, and eating her while she does it, drives me crazy, too, and just leads to some hot sex.

For the punishment, I told her it would involve some naughty peeing in public, but nothing illegal and she wouldn’t get hurt. I told her she’d have to follow all of my commands on that day–no ifs, ands or buts. Heather gave a wink and agreed.

Heather worked hard for several weeks, exercised like a champion, and watched her weight. She looked great and was rewarded with lots of backrubs and had her pussy eaten (while she flooded my face and floor) several times each week. Each session left her with a screaming orgasm.

Of course, after a few weeks, she had a day where she missed her exercise. That was a Friday and she admitted that night that she was too busy and tired that day to get it done. I reminded her about the agreement. She smiled and said she’d just have to take her punishment like a good girl and she’d get back to exercise the next day. I kissed her and told her that the next day, Saturday, she’d have to do exactly what I told her as a punishment. Heather laughed and said she was both worried and looking forward to it at the same time.

The next morning, I directed Heather to drink several cups of coffee in the morning. I also directed her to put on her favorite jean shorts, which really hug her shapely hips and butt. Her jean shorts are a very dark blue, almost bordering on black, and they are sexy as hell. Finally, I asked her if she still had Stacey’s thong panties, the one she wore home after the two of them peed in the bathroom of the restaurant together (a story which I wrote about and posted in this forum).

Heather paused for a few beats before answering; she swallowed hard and then nodded. I had not mentioned those panties since the time Heather wore them home (they were damp with Stacey’s pee and when we got home we fucked like animals, with Heather peeing a large puddle on the kitchen floor; after Heather peed, I took her from behind while she kneeled doggie style in her own hot pool of spray). I really didn’t know what Heather had down with the panties since that night.

“What about them”? Heather asked, her voice low.

“Wear them under your jean shorts.”

Heather nodded and left. She returned a few minutes later, her face flushed. She had on the jean shorts and a loose blouse. I could just make out her the press of her heavy breasts against the top.

“Drink your coffee,” I ordered. “You’re going to hold your pee until I tell you to piss.”

It was about seven-thirty in the morning when we started this. By 8:30 a.m. Heather was squirming. By 9:00 a.m. Heather was pushing her hand across her crotch over her jeans and bouncing her legs.

“Need to release?” I asked.

“Yes,” Heather said, her voice cracking a little.

“Not yet. I want to see you really struggle.”

Heather’s face flushed and she stood up. She started doing a little pee-pee dance with her eyes closed and her hands pressing against her crotch.

“It’s working,” Heather gasped.

I was getting aroused knowing my wife’s bladder was so full and she was struggling to maintain her composure. I wanted nothing more than to see her desperate and then wet her tight shorts in a huge gushing release.

“I want you to piss your shorts and Stacey’s panties,” I told her.

In the past, I had encouraged and asked Heather to piss her jean shorts or other pants.