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After I chugged a couple glasses of water and was ready to go again, I carefully balanced the webcam on the corner of my bed, setting up the PeePillow and correcting for proper angles. I wanted viewers to see me from the shoulders down, while keeping my face from view and preserving a bit of anonymity.

So when I was ready, and my fingers were tingling a little from excitement, I stripped naked, plumped up the pillow, and pressed record.

I decided to keep the videos silent, too, with nothing to be heard except my piss gushing over the fabric. Any commentary I wanted to leave would be in the description.

So without any further ceremony, I walked to the center of my room, squatted over the PeePillow, arched my back, and aimed my stream onto it. I was facing the webcam at a 3/4 angle so viewers could clearly see my spread legs, my pink glistening cunt, and the flood of piss cascading out in front of me, catching the light. I groaned a little, involuntarily, as I released the contents of my bladder.

The PeePillow worked as advertised, soaking up the liquid faster than I could spray it. When my flow trickled to a stop, I looked down to check and found the outer layers were already dry as the inner layers thirstily absorbed my pee. Dang.

I wiggled a little to knock off the clinging droplets of urine and then lowered myself to rub my pussy against the pillow, drying the last little bit. Then I stood up, walked over to the webcam, and clicked it off.

This was the first video I uploaded to the site, with a little description:

PeePillow TM just arrived today! Thank you, mystery benefactor! This one’s for you. <3

Only a few hours later, while I was laying on my bed trying to concentrate on homework and resisting the urge to check how my video was faring, no-water-no-wee sent me a private message.

Water: hey! Truly excellent video you posted today.

Me: thanks! You liked it, huh?

Water: girl, I PMed you specifically to describe how much I liked it because I don’t want the public chat to know how hard I came watching it

Me: 🙂 🙂 🙂

Water: So that thing really works?

Me: the PeePillow? Yeah. It works so well that I still can’t believe it. Hey, what other webcam videos do you think I should take?

Water: you? A sexy young coed peeing around her room? I’m sure you’ll figure it out.

Me: mmm, thanks.

I looked at the PeePillow next to me on the bed. I hadn’t used it in a couple of hours, since I recorded the video, but now…I was starting to feel the tickle in my pelvis which indicated the need to urinate creeping up.

So I drank more water, peeled off my jeans and panties, and climbed back into bed.

I figured I might as well record it on the webcam, since I could always upload it if it was good and scrub it if not. So I set up the camera behind me, clipping it to the headboard of my bed. Then I lay on my stomach, with the PeePillow under me, facing the foot of my bed.

The webcam was perfectly positioned for a view of my ass in the air, my knees apart with the pillow right between them, while I set up my laptop in front of me to watch porn.

It was all piss porn, of course: gif after video after gif, scrolling through my bookmarks.

There were a bunch of yellowdog: pissing off the tops of buildings, looking down at the civilians below, some of whom visibly put their palm out in front of them to check for rain; or the one where he stands in the corner bursa escort of a crowded elevator, takes out his cock, and pisses onto the carpet below without anyone noticing; or the compilation of Mardi Gras videos where he pissed on the street freely, all festival long, heedless of the crowd.

There were a couple picture of naturecalling, artful shots of his thick cokebottle cock projecting his stream onto tender young plants. There was a photoset of Sheila, aka shieldla, dressed as Wonder Woman: her hair blowing backward in the wind, standing in the confident power pose with hands on hips, pissing forward. In the pictures, two men groveled on the ground in front of her, trying to receive her stream in their open, waiting mouths.

I wasn’t into piss drinking the way that a lot of others in the community were, but there was something undeniably hot about the idea of a man bringing his warm, wet mouth to my cunt, licking me from end to end before suctioning his whole mouth firmly over my pussy and begging me to piss.

I liked the idea of peeing standing up, a man providing his mouth as a convenient receptacle, and the thrill of what his mouth might do to me afterwards: licking me clean, letting me hump his face.

I had snaked my hand between my legs to touch myself — all visible from behind on camera, I hoped — and it was this thought that sent me over the edge, made my toes curl and my legs tighten as I came.

And while I came, I was dimly conscious, beyond my pleasure, of my other goal: I tried to relax into the muscle spasms of orgasm, opening myself up…and as soon as the immediacy of the orgasm faded, a flood of piss came shooting out of my pussy to drench the pillow.

I moaned. The orgasm hadn’t yet faded from my mind, and now to piss on top of it…I arched my back and rubbed myself against the pillow while I pissed, and then I sat back and aimed my stream more deliberately over the fabric, watching its arc dwindle like a dying fountain. I must have had more in my bladder than I realized, because I peed for several long moments into the foam before it stopped.

For the video I posted online, I had to cut several minutes from the end where I had just rested, quivering, unwilling to move after I was spent. I decided not to post it until the following day, though. Spacing out my posts would help any potential fanbase grow and gain momentum.

Out of curiosity I went to my page to see how the video was doing — and leaned back, stunned at the number of views. The post had one of those little flame icons next to it to show that it was “hot,” in terms of popularity. Filled with excitement (and empty of piss), I had the thought that I really could do this. The peeing-on-webcam business might really pay off.

Over the next couple of weeks, the PeePillow never left my side. Even when I wasn’t recording videos — and I often did — I hugged it close.

In the morning, I’d wake up, my body curled around the pillow like it was my boyfriend. Since I slept naked, I’d just position it a little closer between my legs, keeping my eyes closed to soak up the last few minutes of sleep, and let myself piss freely against it.

Then, when my alarm insisted I wake up for real, I took my time getting up: stretching, drinking water, laying out my outfit, packing my bag with the textbooks I needed that day. Usually I pissed once more before I left my room to shower, and I always had fun with it.

Sometimes çanakkale escort I put the pillow on the floor and tried to aim my piss onto it, standing up like a dude. Or I put it on a chair, sat on top of it, and relieved myself like it was a toilet. Or, if it was still lying on my bed from the last time, I’d just crawl into bed, hump it, arch my back, and let loose over it, closing my eyes in bliss at the satisfaction of peeing in my own bed.

I also got in the habit of taking top-down videos on my phone, as well, since it was faster and easier to whip it out at a moment than setting up the webcam. One of my most popular videos was one where I put the PeePillow on top of my desk, stood directly in front of it, spread my pussy lips, and pissed onto it, pivoting where I stood to soak a greater area. I captioned that one, “next time I do this, I’m going to take the pillow away and soak all the books and papers underneath.”

Once I was off to class, I really missed having it. I considered contacting the PeePillow company to ask if they could start carrying a travel-sized version I could squish up and put in my backpack to have. It would have been useful in deserted corners of the library where I studied, or even, if I was feeling really daring, to put on my seat in the back row of a crowded lecture class — while wearing a skirt, of course.

So by the time I got back to my dorm in the evenings, I was thrilled to finally relieve myself with it, and usually I had held in as much as I could in anticipation of this moment. I was tired of using regular toilets, at this point, and tried to avoid them as much as possible.

The first piss back home was always the heaviest of the day, with the exception of my morning stream, and I often set up the webcam for it. I was usually dancing with desperation by the time I got it set up and recording, so viewers could see my shaky legs and the way I held my knees together like I was worried of letting loose all over the floor.

And in some cases, when I recorded, I didn’t let them see the PeePillow below me, but aimed the camera straight at my groin so they could see the piss flow out, flooding over my inner thighs and dripping down. It was nice to imagine, as I reviewed and edited and re-watched the videos later, that I was naughtily and deliberately pissing on the floor in my desperation, just letting myself pee where I stood.

And after that, the night was spent doing homework, relaxing, watching Netflix, and playing video games. Either I stayed naked in my dorm room, or I started wearing skirts with no underwear, so I could urinate on the pillow whenever I felt the urge.

Usually it was tucked under me if I was sitting; if I was doing homework at my desk, I could flood the pillow with piss without hesitation. If I was on my computer in bed, the pillow was usually under me, or next to me, with part of it trapped between my thighs so I could relieve myself easily.

It was wonderful, being able to wet myself without a second thought. I only had to make sure that it was securely adjusted, that I was unlikely to leak anywhere but onto the pillow itself, and then I was free to let loose.

There was no more heaving myself onto my feet to trudge to the bathroom, no groaning middle-of-the-night trips anymore. I stopped pausing my movie, stopped finding a save point, stopped searching for my misplaced bookmark. I just kept on what I was doing, pissing as I worked.

After I didim escort began to gain a steady following — 100 true fans by the end of the first month, to say nothing of the thousands of views, likes, and comments — I started live-streaming. (Get it?)

When I took a trip back home during a three-day weekend, I searched my closet and found some old cheerleader skirts and school uniforms I’d outgrown, and brought those back to school with me. It was easy to rig a little station under my desk to mount the webcam.

I’d post on my blog the start times of my live-streaming sessions, and when everyone else logged on and the server went live, they’d find a view of me from the waist down, sitting at my desk, wearing small schoolgirl skirts with my pussy bare underneath.

During my live-streams, I took the opportunity to truly sit there and do homework. Sometimes I’d even put my notebook in front of the screen and give them brief glimpses of what I was working on, for verisimilitude. But while I sat and did homework, I was drinking lots and lots of water, and flooding my seat (with the peepillow under me, of course) freely.

I was often puzzling through math equations, as I was studying to become an engineer, which took time and focus to solve. It was perfect for me, to be able to piss in my seat while the webcam streamed it live to my viewers, focusing on my homework, providing piss fetish paired with schoolgirl mystique with zero extra effort on my part.

My educated fans loved that I was smart, and sometimes when I raised my head from my work to take a break and catch up on my stream’s chat room messages, I’d find comments from those who had taken screenshots of my work and were trying to come up with the solution before me. I got a lot of messages like, “Hey, baby, I can tutor you if you want,” or “why spend time on homework when you can be hanging out with us? I’ll give you the answers right now” but my universal response to these was, “Thanks for the offers, darlings, but how else will I learn unless I do it myself?”, and I’d throw in a kissy-face emoticon.

It didn’t stop them from trying to “tutor” me, and I kept getting solicited as some kind of schoolgirl dominatrix by those who were intimidated to the point of being aroused by my higher level skills. Most of the guys said stuff like “I wish I was under that desk right now.”

But as much as I was relishing the experience of naughty pissing, of letting loose in a place that wasn’t the bathroom or the toilet — pissing while still snuggled under bedcovers, or while sitting at my desk doing homework — I still hadn’t made the transition to peeing on anything other than my PeePillow. I was still so attached to it, to its mess-free process. I had laundered it a couple times, and emptied the canister of powder that had been steadily accumulating, but it seemed unaffected no matter what I did. It never seemed to get dirty, only slightly dusty.

To be honest, my viewers really liked the videos I posted of pissing on the PeePillow when it was needing a wash. My forceful stream would hit the fabric and raise a small puff of powder.

“You get so much use out of that,” someone commented. “It’s not gross, but it’s obvious, and that’s really hot.”

But more and more the comments were getting plaintive.

“Really want to see you pee on other stuff that isn’t just that pillow!!” someone wrote. “I have lots of suggestions if you want them!”

And I certainly dreamed about it, of course, all the excellent videos I could take of myself pissing onto other things. I was anxious to start, but nervous too.

It just took one small thing to tip me over the edge, and then my adventures really began.

Chapter Three coming soon!

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