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I was playing in the plastic playhouse behind my friend / neighbor Laura's house when I suddenly felt the urge to pee. "I gotta go potty," I commented the instant the feeling struck me.
"My mom won't mind if you use the toilet in the house," Laura replied.
"I'd have to take my shoes off when I go inside...I won't make it..." I commented as I began squeezing my wienie, "...and I don't wanna get in trouble for peeing in the grass..."
Half laughing, my friend / neighbor offered, "My cousin Tina goes potty in her pants."
Squeezing my wiennie harder, I briefly pondered that idea before questioning, "Doesn't she get in trouble?"
Shaking her head, Laura responded, "No. She says the pants dry out after a while so her parents don't notice; and when they do notice she tells them she '...had an accident...'."
"Really!?" I questioned, as I wondered why if pants dry out fairly quickly do people bother using a toilet to wee-wee in.
"Unh-huh," Laura confirmed before asking, "So no reason not to go potty in your pants..."
'Yea, that makes sense,' I silently thought before moving my hands away from my wiennie. An instant later a steady stream of pee was gushing out of the little hole at the tip of my wiennie: the front of my undies and shorts were completely soaked instantly. Less than a second after I let go of my wiennie, I felt streams of pee running down my legs into my sneakers and soaking into my socks.
For what felt like an hour, but was in actuality probably little more than a minute, the stream of pee continued pouring out of the little hole at the tip of my dick; then it simply stopped.
"Wow, you peed a lot," Laura commented.
"Yea..." I responded, I took a breath before continuing, "My pants, undies, socks and the inside of my shoes are really wet; think they'll dry before I have to go home for dinner?"
Laura half shrugged before saying, "My cousin Tina's do, and she goes potty in her pants a bunch of times each day..."
Accepting that statement as meaning that my clothes would be mostly dry before I had to go home for dinner, I returned to playing.
***
A couple hours later, just before I had to go home for dinner, I was a little worried because my shorts, undies, socks and sneakers were still kinda wet. "Think my parent will notice I'm wet?" I asked.
"Maybe if you ignore it they won't notice," Laura half suggested.
I felt at the fabric on the front of my shorts, and questioned, "You think that'll work?"
"That's what Tina seems to do," Laura commented, "And her parents rarely notice."
"Hmmm..." I mumbled as I tried to put the feeling of wetness of my pants and socks out of my mind. I took a deep breath, and said, "See you tomorrow," before stepping out of the playhouse.
"Tomorrow..." I heard Laura's voice drift out of the plastic playhouse as I walked across her back yard to mine.
***
I didn't make it two steps into my house when Mom started yelling at me, "You wet yourself!!!! What would possess you to do that and walk into the house dripping piss everywhere?!?!?!?"
Hanging my head, I did my best to sound like I was sobbing as I offered, "I...I had...had an accident..."
Hearing me say those words in that tone did seem to calm her down somewhat; but she was still decidedly upset, "Accidents do happen BUT don't walk through the house in urine SOAKED clothes!!"
"I'm sorry..." I was actually beginning to cry for real as I silently thought, 'so much for "AN ACCIDENT" being a secret way to not get in trouble'.
Mom continued half yelling at me for like fifteen minutes before I suggested getting changed, at which point she dropped the subject.
***
The following day, when I got to the playhouse in Laura's backyard the first thing she did was ask, "Did you parents notice you went potty in your pants?"
"Yea, Mom did," I half sighed before telling my friend about how Mom noticed it immediately, how she yelled at me for fifteen minutes, how saying 'I had an accident' hadn't been a magic way to get her to stop yelling, and how I wondered if Laura had set me up.
"I watched Tina get away with it: I wasn't trying to get you in trouble, I promise," Laura sounded like she was apologizing without actually apologizing.
"Guess I just won't go potty in my pants again," I thought out loud...
"Yea..." Laura sounded a bit disappointed as she commented, "I really hoped that would be a way to..." she trailed off.
"'Way to': way to what?" I asked without thinking about it.
Smiling, she pointed at me and said, "Be right back," before stepping out of the plastic playhouse and running to the back door of her house.
Little more than a minute later she returned with a beach towel. Speaking through the biggest smile I'd ever seen on her face she explained, "Whenever I gotta go potty after going to bed I use this," she held up the towel, "I'll show you how to use it when one of us has to go potty."
"Okay," I half shrugged.
***
A couple hours after Laura brought the beach towel into the play house, I suddenly felt the urge to pee. "I gotta go potty," I commented; half grinning as I wondered how we'd use the towel.
The instant I said those words a funny little grin appeared on Laura's face. She immediately grabbed the beach towel and as she began rolling it up she explained, "I've gone potty in the towel a bunch of times and never got in trouble: so I KNOW this works. AND, going potty in the towel feels good too!"
"Okay..." was all I managed to say in response.
With the beach towel fully rolled up, Laura instructed, "Take your shorts and undies off."
Needing to pee, I did as instructed: hooking my thumbs in the stretchy waistbands of both my shorts and undies at the same time and yanking them down together. Meanwhile, Laura was folding the rolled up towel in half.
"Now what?" I asked in anticipation.
"You stra..." she trailed off when she looked down towards my wiennie.
Now somewhat concerned, I questioned, "What?"
"Forgot you've got a wiennie..." she glanced back and forth between the rolled up beach towel and my wiennie and seemed to be in deep thought for a couple seconds before declaring, "Right." She took a quick breath then instructed, "Put your wiennie in the end of the rolled up towel and pee into it."
"Ah... okay..." I responded filled with doubt as I looked at the end of the rolled up beach towel. Realizing that I'd have to get the tip of my wiennie a ways into the rolled up towel or the pee would end up on me, I suddenly knew how to do this. I took hold of my almost completely soft shriveled wiennie and shook it up and down a few times: it hardened a bit and lengthened somewhat as I had expected. Taking a quick breath, I did everything I could to focus, and pressed the tip of my now half hardened and lengthened wiennie against / into the little hole at the very center of the rolled up towel. Despite the fact that my wiennie seemed to be be thicker than the hole was wide, it slid in easily.
Looking at Laura, I questioned, "So I just pee into it?"
"Yea..." she responded; the tone of her voice leading me to believe she was amazed I'd yet to startpeeing.
I took a breath and relaxed my bladder. As expected I felt pee running through the little tube on the underside of my wiennie, but that was quite literally all I felt. It continued that way for several seconds as I wondered if any pee was actually coming out of the little hole at the tip of my wiennie.
Then, as I was beginning to think maybe I should pull my wiennie out of the hole at the very center of the rolled up towel, I noticed that the towel was beginning to become warmer and heavier. Clearly the fabric of the towel was soaking up all of my pee...
WOW THAT WAS COOL!!!!
A couple seconds after I'd had that realization, the flow ceased and I stopped peeing. Once I was sure I'd stopped peeing, I took a breath and gently pulled the towel of my half hardened and lengthened wiennie. Noticing that the entire exterior of the rolled up towel was completely dry I heard myself comment, "Wow that was neat..." as I sat the rolled up towel on the plastic table in the playhouse.
Laura giggled briefly before saying, "Let's see how you did," and beginning to unroll the towel.
I almost didn't believe my eyes when I saw that the middle section of the part of the towel that had been right around my wiennie was completely and thoroughly soaked, and yet the rest of it was completely dry.
"Whoa..." she half giggled before definitively saying, "You really used the playhouse potty good."
"Yea..." I replied despite not being entirely sure what she meant as I yanked my shorts and undies back up. Once their stretchy waistbands were back around my lower tummy, Laura and I returned to playing.
***
Now whenever either of us has to go potty while we're in the playhouse we pee in the towel which we've taken to calling 'the playhouse potty'.