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After an evening hanging out at the campus cafe with my friends, I was halfway back to my dorm when a shiver crept up from my thighs to my waist and I was struck by the sudden need to pee. It came on so strong and violently that I clenched my knees together and paused on the sidewalk to crouch slightly, controlling myself, before taking a slow step forward and continuing on.

I had to find a bathroom, and fast.

If I took a quick detour, I could cut through the film department and use their first floor restroom. So I took a left at the fork instead of a right and hurried forward to the glass doors. This department was still unlocked even at night because the photography students had license to use the darkroom at all hours. But it was at the top of a small hill, and I was trembling with the urge to urinate by the time I reached the handle and yanked.

To my relief, it opened smoothly. I hurried down the hallway to the niche of bathrooms and water fountains.

The building was mostly empty. I didn't pass or see anyone about, though I heard distant footsteps and laughter from an unused classroom.

The bathroom had been unoccupied for so long that the motion sensor lights clicked on when I entered the room. My hand paused on the deadbolt to the bathroom door as I surveyed the interior. What if...

I didn't have my whole tripod rig and camera, but I did have my cell phone. It had a decent camera even though I hadn't used it for this so far.

Since I started posting sexy pissing videos online, I had received a lot of requests and write-ins from viewers. A few of them were easy to accommodate: I had already uploaded simple ones of me urinating into the toilet, or while standing in the shower. But when it came to making more of a mess than that, I didn't have enough courage to graduate from using the PeePillow exclusively.

One of the most frequent requests was a variation on soiling a bathroom.

"It would be so hot to see you piss all over that toilet and onto the floor," some said, or, "could you pee somewhere you're not supposed to next time, like the sink?"

My fingers snapped the deadbolt into place. I surveyed the small room.

The walls were tile from shoulder-height down, and so was the floor. It dipped slightly towards the drain in the center of the room. On the left side was the toilet, and on the right side a sink and paper towel dispenser. Otherwise, all was bare.

I wasn't sure I was ready to try soaking the whole room, but the toilet...I muğla escort could start with that.

Carefully, I removed my shoes and set them aside, folded my underwear and laid them over the top of the paper towel dispenser, and hung my purse over the door hook. I wanted to get everything I cared about out of the way of any potential splash zone.

I was really dancing with my need to pee at this point.

I had my phone in hand but it still took a moment to swipe open the camera app - I almost didn't catch the start of the forceful stream that shot out as soon as I clicked record.

But I did manage to get my phone in hand and pointing the right direction while my other hand parted my labia before I spurted.

I heard the click that meant the recording had started but I couldn't focus on it at all, being so intent on watching my own pee stream out.

I was standing in front of the toilet like a man might stand to piss. One of the perks of so much indoor practice with the PeePillow was that it had given me good aim. With two fingers pushing along the sides of my slit, I had gotten better at manipulating the direction of my own stream.

So even though I gushed straight down into the toilet bowl at first, I circled my fingers slowly, and my spray moved in a corresponding lazy circle around the toilet seat.

It pattered down, leaving droplets all over the white plastic. On top of the flat seat, they pooled and then dribbled down the exterior sides. As more urine struck the seat, the existing liquid spattered forcefully in all directions.

Bending my knees and leaning back a little was all I needed to aim further upwards, casting my arc of piss over the toilet seat lid, the back of the toilet, and - if I leaned back a bit more - the wall just behind it, though I could only sustain that for a moment before my stream flagged.

It was a marvel that I managed to keep the camera trained on the scene when I was so wrapped up in relieving myself. The forceful stream that erupted from me was built up over hours and several drinks at the cafe and it felt sooo good to let it all go now.

...and so naughty.

Before I spilled out the last bit of what I had left in the tank, I turned and sprayed the exposed roll of toilet paper. It surprised me how satisfying it was to watch my own pee sink deep and wet all the layers through until they were sponged and ruffling. I totally emptied myself here, nearly groaning with pleasure by the end.

After rhodope-mugla.org I had finished I just stood there a moment, panting. The toilet paper roll dripped onto the floor. The toilet seat was brimming, having spilled over in several places. A drop ran down the wall just over the toilet.

It felt really fucking good to relieve myself all over that toilet, going everywhere except where I was supposed to. Now I understood what the fuss was about. I hoped I had gotten a good shot of the scene for my followers. I turned off the recording and took a few photographs of the messy aftermath.

I wasn't so bold as to leave the mess for someone else to clean up, however; this was still my community and my home, and I was a little terrified that the incident could be traced back to me. So I took paper towels to it and wiped up all the spill, dumped the sodden toilet paper roll in the trash and replaced it with a fresh one, and left the bathroom as neat as I had found it.

On the way out I locked eyes with a guy as he walked into the men's room just next door. The two of us froze for a moment. Could he see the paranoia on my face; could he surmise what I had just finished doing? It almost seemed that his eyes were wide to see me there.

But after a moment we both continued on. Damnit. Of course he didn't know what I had just done, how could he? It didn't help that he was incredibly good-looking; I would have liked to be seen at my best, and not stricken to be spotted leaving the women's bathroom after defiling it.

When I got back to my room, I checked the video. Honestly...it wasn't great. I hadn't captured very much of the action, the lighting was off, my skin looked sickly, and there was a bit right in the middle where my hand shook and the video captured a flyer with my college's name visibly right at the center.

The only salvageable part was the very end where I peed steadily onto a full roll of toilet paper. I took just that scene, applied a filter to fix the ugly lighting, and posted it to the site that evening, along with a couple of the better pictures I had taken.

For the rest of the night I did homework with the PeePillow between my legs. No webcam this time - I was doing it just for me. Something I had discovered today was that even if I didn't get good footage of the experience, I was enjoying this. Something about me really enjoyed making messes in places where I wasn't typically supposed to go.

Not only had I enjoyed that...I was excited to do it again.

xxx

In the morning when I checked the website, I was stunned to find a record number of hits and a ton of new followers. Positive comments were pouring in about how sexy this was and how much they had been looking for something like my channel. And when I checked my "tips" account where people could make a voluntary donation, I was outright stunned.

I was feeling pretty smug the whole morning, all the way through breakfast and up until I walked to my first class of the day when I overheard one girl whispering to a group of people, "pissing all over the toilet..." and I felt a sudden chill.

How...? How did they know? I thought I had cleaned it up well, but maybe not well enough. There couldn't be hidden cameras? Is there a way they could trace it to me?

During class I was able to get a handle on myself. Of course they don't have cameras. That has to be illegal, right? There's no way to know it's me. But wait...how many people were in the building that late at night? Did I swipe my campus card to get in? Maybe they could trace it back to me through that...

I snuck out of class to go to the bathroom and catch my breath. It was another jolt to be confronted with it right there - posted on the bulletin board outside the bathrooms - a paper notice that trumpeted:

PLEASE RESPECT HYGIENE AND SAFETY IN SHARED BATHROOMS

I was feeling ashamed and paranoid up until lunch when I sat down with a few friends and the subject came up: someone pissed on a toilet in the bathrooms in the academic buildings. I didn't chip in, as it felt disingenuous to agree with the chorus proclaiming, "But who would do something like that, like...ewwww."

"Boys are just gross," said my friend Olivia. "Honestly he was probably just super drunk. Everyone keeps thinking it was intentional but it might have been an accident."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Maybe it was."

Then I paused. "Wait, boys?"

"Yeah?"

"How do you know it was a guy who did it?"

"Well, it was in the men's bathroom. I assume it was a guy."

"The men's bathroom?"

"Yeah?" All of them were looking at me strangely.

"Huh." I said. "I just...didn't realize that. I thought it was in the women's for some reason."

"Ew! Yuck!" said Rachel. "I could never use that bathroom again if I knew someone had done that."

I was pensive all throughout the rest of the afternoon. So...it wasn't my mess that got discovered at all, but someone else's mess?

It could be like what Olivia said - a boy did it while drunk, stupidly and accidentally.

But could it be possible that there was someone on campus with the same interests as me?