Peepillow Tm Pt 04

By the end of the week, everyone else had already forgotten about and stopped talking about "the pee incident" or speculating about which weird guy on campus had done it, but I couldn't get it off my mind.

The attention span for college gossip was short but for me, this was personal. At this point, I had made more than enough money at this webcam gig to buy a whole bunch of stuff online I didn't need just for the purpose of peeing on it for the camera. I was expecting it all to arrive any day now -- hopefully tomorrow -- and I was pretty excited to let loose all over it.

But on this night, I was with a group of friends at the campus bar and after a few drinks among the dense crowd on this humid night, I had to step outside to get some air. The closest exit was the back door, which led to a little alley behind the student center.

It was always deserted. I strolled along the path feeling my ears ringing slightly, sounding louder than the quiet around me.

Suddenly I froze. There, ahead of me, was a back. A backside. A person. Facing the wall. Head down, looking down at something right in front of --

There was a guy there pissing, and sighing with relief while he did it. And in his hand was a camera, or a phone, or something.

He was filming his piss splashing against the brick wall, and while I watched he took a step to the side and aimed his stream onto one of the old metal utility doors, and its handle, and then into and through the small slits of a vent in the door leading inside.

And then he noticed me and got very still as we both locked eyes.

He muttered an apology too low for me to make out the words, and tucked himself away and zipped up and walked off and I realized as he turned -- it was the guy I passed in the academic building at the door to the bathroom, right when I was leaving!

That's when the pieces clicked into place.

Just minutes after I pissed all over the women's bathroom, he must have gone into the men's and did the same thing. Except he got caught, and I didn't. But still, the thought of doing that near the same time, just feet away from the same spot...it was a little serendipitous, no?

He was out of sight by then, and I wasn't bold enough to go tearing after to confront him, as I was still rooted to the spot in something like shock. But now I desperately wanted to talk to him.

The problem was, I had no idea who he was or what his name was. And this was a big campus, with a lot of students. How could I find him again?

When I got back to my room, I pulled up all my go-to amateur piss porn sites to check for videos posted recently that might have been his. I set up a few tags and filters and told it to email me with updates if new posts were flagged.

Admittedly, while I did this research, I was using my PeePillow: tucked under my naked groin, placed between me and the chair seat, it soaked up everything as I urinated forcefully -- and lazily -- onto it. And since I'd been drinking tonight, it seemed like the desperate need and the floods of piss were never-ending.

With this in place, I didn't have to stand up to use the bathroom all the time for a basic pee. I could lean back, or stand up so I was hovering just above it (or, sometimes, hump it vigorously while I pissed flush against the fabric, feeling it thirstily wick away my pee as quickly as I squirted it out).

I also did a few generic searches for porn connected to my college, just in case he had marked the location...but all I found was some lesbian schoolgirl porn that wasn't actually related where the logo looked nothing like ours.

There was a campus directory available online but it had the barest of information: only names and no pictures were included. I considered checking social media, but I didn't know his first or last name, major, or class year, so I definitely wouldn't know where to look.

I tentatively pinged the chat room: is anyone here a college student?

No one responded for a long time so I added: just curious

I sat back, feeling unsure of what to do next. How could I possibly find him, unless I just happened to run into him again?

I had met him for the first time in one of the academic buildings for the humanities when I cut through late at night to use the bathroom. It belonged to the film department; I remembered the quiet hush in the hallways and the distant sound of the darkroom door.

So he wasn't an engineer like me; unless he went deliberately to a different department to use their facilities? Throw them off the trail? That's what I might have done.

It wasn't so late that I couldn't go check out the building itself. But first, I had something to attend to...

An aching need in my pelvis signaled that my bladder would have to be relieved. As much as I loved peeing directly onto the PeePillow, I also wanted to mix things up a little and try something new. So did my viewers.

So I took the camera into the bathroom with me -- just a single person bathroom that I shared with the other three ladies in the dorm suite -- locked the door, and surveyed the possibilities.

Eventually I decided to pee into the sink -- not an uncommon request from my fans -- so I fetched a step stool and stripped off the rest of my clothes.

With the stationary angle, I got a much better video this time: the arc of piss splashed against the bowl sides and swirled down the drain, accompanied by my own unconscious sighs of relief. It didn't require much editing, so I posted it online with a cheeky caption before I left.

Then I grabbed my bag and headed back into campus, hoping to find clues about the mystery pee stranger...

I arrived at the film department by the front entrance this time, rather than the side entrance. It was approaching 1:00 AM, and though a few classrooms were lit up with students working late, most of the building was dark and hushed.

The sound of my footsteps echoed against the tile, but there was no one around to hear it. The only other noise was tinny music floating through the halls: some distant violin, as if a student was practicing in a room.

Curious, I followed the sound into a hallway off the main atrium. My attention was immediately caught by the source, once it came into view: a speaker resting on the floor piped out music, while a TV screen on the wall just above it played out some black and white film.

I watched it for a moment. It was some romantic movie I didn't recognize: classic, artsy, in the black and white style of old Gene Kelly or Fred Astaire films. A couple on screen danced together. The space between them was full of tension as they spun out and back together.

But all of a sudden, as they drew near, the edges of the screen started filling up with color and -- when they kissed -- color exploded all throughout the scene so that it seemed everything was whirling and spinning along with them.

I was transfixed by the vibrancy of the scene: the colors were stunning and crisp. I took a step closer, still drinking it all in, eyes riveted to the screen as a group of students passed behind me in the hallway. One of them giggled but I didn't realize it was aimed at me until I heard the muttered word, "stoned..."

At that, I resurfaced. I must have looked a little too entranced at the trippy visuals.

The dancing couple was slowing down now, and embracing with calm rather than energy. The colors on screen blended pleasantly and burned down to a gentle richness. I took a deep breath, unaware until then of how I had been holding it.

It was unlike anything I had ever seen before, and I was reluctant to turn away. It was a good decision to watch until the end, because it didn't occur to me until the credits that this wasn't a professional film at all, but a student project. The TV was set to cycle through a round of film projects and at the end of each one they showed a quote from the student-director, and a profile of their work. Along with a picture.

As soon as I saw it, I knew. I wondered if I had subconsciously known all along, and that was why I stayed rooted there, watching until the end. Because when the picture flashed on the screen of student-director Yamal Deep, I recognized him at once as my mystery piss stranger.

xxx

I had a donation sitting in my tip jar when I checked my online accounts later, with a note specifying that an anonymous fan wanted me to buy a second PeePillow. He or she really wanted me to place them end to end on the floor and piss a long and powerful stream over the lot.

So I placed the order and made a post thanking the fan -- then tabbed over to the chat room to see if anyone had responded to my query: "is anyone here a college student?"

The chat hadn't been very active recently. No-water-no-wee hadn't signed on in over a week, and a lot of the old regulars seemed to be moving on and spending more time in the real world. My private message to pissbitches was still unread, and I sent that nearly a month before.

A few newbies had responded to my question in the negative, and otherwise there were only a couple messages from spambots and two from older men who wanted to flirt with a young coed: that is, me. But no. No other students.

It certainly wasn't likely that my mystery stranger happened to be in the same dirty piss play chat room that I was in. But from my expedition last night, at least I learned his name.

So I asked another question: what do I do if I think someone IRL shares my kink, but I don't know how to approach them?

At that, the responses came more readily.

Some people expressed jealousy, wishing for themselves to have people to connect with in the real world. A few suggested just walking up to him; others said, "better be safe -- you never know if they'll take it badly or hurt you with it."

I followed up my message with another, explaining that I had already "caught" him in a vulnerable position -- I still couldn't stop thinking about how I had seen him deliberately marking the wall and the metal door outside the student center, though I didn't provide details within the chat -- and asking further advice.

Then I turned my attention to my peeing-on-things webcam enterprise. The toys and things I had ordered online, explicitly for the purpose of soaking them on camera, had arrived. I was excited to play around with a few of them.

It didn't hurt that my videos were rapidly gaining a fan base; new followers were signing up every day. Considering that I had nursed shame and self-consciousness about my pee kink for so long, it felt more validating than I could have imagined to share my interests with so many others who encouraged me and were aroused by me.

The number of messages and requests I received -- daily! -- about where and what to piss on was truly reaching incredible levels. I couldn't keep up with the volume anymore. I snorted to think of hiring an assistant to wade through it all for me, but at the rate this was taking off...I might be able to afford one.

So I had ordered a few things online that were common requests: shoes, a towel, a small fake plant, a pair of women's and men's underwear, and a beer stein.

I decided to start with the beer stein, which meant that I needed to drink an outrageous amount of liquid (quickly) in order to attempt filling it.

So, I filled the stein itself, and a secondary water bottle, from the water fountain in the dorm hallway and brought them both back to my room.

After taking a few deep breaths, I chugged the water from the stein on camera, having set up the tripod so that only my mouth, neck, and chest was on screen. I managed to get all of that down in one shot, though it wasn't comfortable. I spilled a bit onto my tits and nearly choked because I gasped to feel the cold water trailing down my ribs. After, my stomach sloshed a bit when I moved too quickly.

Then I sipped from my water bottle while I repositioned the tripod and camera for a waist down shot. I had the PeePillows lined up on the floor beneath me to catch any spills.

From then on, it was a waiting game...I sipped my water, and I looked at piss porn favorites saved on my laptop, and I idly touched myself. The anticipation of what I was about to do was making me wet, so I presented my pussy to the camera and showed off how slick and aroused I was. I could edit these segments together later, but now I was wholly occupied in teasing myself with my own fingers, heedless of how it looked on screen. My focus was on my own pleasure.

It didn't take long before the pressure in my abdomen began to build, and not long after that I was wriggling and shaking with the need to urinate. I had consumed a lot of water very quickly, and was still sipping from my water bottle, which was half empty. I was determined to hold it as long as I could, but not to force it to a dangerous point. I was a smallish female and my bladder could only contain so much. This, anyway, was testing my limits.

As I desperately clenched my knees together, I felt a little bit of pee spurt out involuntarily -- I reached hastily for the stein glass, but by that point the pressure had lessened and I was able to clench down again without letting more escape. But little driblets were running down between my thighs and spotting the pillow below.

I lasted maybe 60 seconds more before a muscle in my stomach fluttered, and I had to clamp my hand over my crotch to avoid spraying; this time, I did position the stein directly under my slit and, in a rush, the pee came flooding out.

There was enough space between my pussy and the rim of the glass for the camera to catch sight of my stream thundering straight down. When I watched the video later, I was astounded at the way my piss swirled around like a whirlpool as it rapidly filled the mug; you could see the level of liquid within climbing every second. It was torrential.

I realized quickly that I had miscalculated how much fluid to consume. I thought that some of that liquid would hydrate me, enter my body and be processed separately, and that I needed to drink way more than the capacity of the stein in order to fill it.

But as my pee crept to the rim, and I was still deep in the relief of total release, I realized that there was a lot more left than I had space to fill. No way could I clamp down now on what I was gushing...it felt too fucking good to relax completely and empty myself.

So I nervously watched as my pee reached the lip of the stein, bubbled over, and...began to run down the sides of the glass.

I was still peeing, and groaning a little involuntarily with the pleasure of it, but I couldn't stop: I just watched as the stein overflowed and streamed onto the pillows below.

After several long moments, as my urine kept flowing out and the stein kept frothing over (leaving a huge wet spot on the pillows below) my stream finally flagged.

Even once it trailed to a trickle, that trickle lasted for a long time...as if each of those sips of water, spaced apart, was creating this tiny but continuous stream.

Finally I finished peeing. I felt totally empty and light. The relief in my body was so powerful, I nearly staggered as I reached forward to turn off the recording.

Then, before cleaning anything up, I just sat down in my chair and masturbated. After pissing so copiously, I was feeling hot and aroused in a way that needed to be dealt with. Only after I had achieved my second form of relief did I dispose of the contents of the stein -- carrying it very carefully to the bathroom -- and clean myself up.

Of course, the PeePillows were totally dry by the time I got back to my room. So I plonked one under my butt as I sat back at my computer, trusting that I could just let any leftover pee run out onto the fabric while I edited my video.

It took several hours of work -- this was a longer and more involved video than many of the others had been -- but I uploaded the clip to the site that very evening.

"New I-piss-on-stuff video up!" I posted in the chatroom. "I may be more proud of this one than any other so far. Check it out!"

And I included a hyperlink to the video before heading off to have a very rewarding sleep with the PeePillow nestled between my thighs as always.