#male omo

[wet-jammies]

Poor Office boy! He really has to go but has to wait for an important call from a client... a client who is a little too chatty, it seems!

[an-icky-yucky-blog]

TV? More like TPee! HAHA-

Commissions!

[secret-waterblog]

I’m surprised there isn’t more vampire omo content considering blood has diuretic properties. Drinking blood makes vampire bats have to urinate a lot, it would also have the effect on humanoid vampires.

[wetvett]

hi tumblr. the res/ident evil brain rot is real. heres wes/ker making bir/kin wet himself, based on a roleplay tehe

[omostuff490]

Professor Jonathan Whitlock was a 47 year old, respected psychologist, who sometimes taught lessons at the local University when he wasn't busy with research. Tonight was one of those long nights where he was alone near the end of his shift, crunching data.

He had been drinking coffee most of the afternoon and early evening with no bathroom breaks in order to stay focused and awake. He had been sitting for hours in that chair as his bladder filled. He had ignored the growing heaviness in his bladder the whole time, although it was silently nagging at the back of his head. His work was more important however, he couldn't lose track now, he had gotten so far. He had been dribbling a bit in the past hour, dampening his briefs a bit, but his work remained the priority. Besides, surely he could last a little longer, no? As long as he kept squirming in his seat, he thought, he should be able to hold-

Suddenly, a little leak escaped his tip. He gasped and covered his mouth, hoping nobody passing by heard him. He looked around. The coast was clear. He hesitantly took a peak at his pants. There was a little wet spot on his light grey dress pants, barely noticeable, but not invisible.

"Noooo..." He whined, flushing. He slowly rose from his seat with intention to go, but his urge worsened terribly as he stood. He quickly plopped back into his seat to avoid further leaking. He looked down at his unfinished work, and like a moth to a lamp, was drawn right back to it.

He kept crossing and uncrossing his legs as his enlarged bladder pressed so nicely up against his prostate. He instinctively grinded against his thighs. It sent shivers up his spine, pleasure traveled through his nerves. He flushed as he realized what he had done. But it felt so good. Suddenly, another wave of desperation hit him. He clenched to no avail, a longer, strained stream dribbled out of him for a second or two. Desperate, he grinded his palm against his dick to try and stop the stream. He moaned at the tingles of pleasure greeting his every nerve at the sensation. The leak stopped with one rub. He quickly covered his mouth in embarrassment, praying nobody heard him. He peaked down between his legs. A dark patch was formed on his dick and a bit of his inner thigh. On top of that, he had hardened once he stopped leaking. He groaned in embarrassment.

He tried to get back to his work and finish it quickly. Once he did finish, he was struggling not to shift in his seat anymore. He half-assed the last bit of his work due to his intense desperation and quickly rose to his feet. Sitting had stopped helping him hold a minute ago.

He clumsily put his work away, shaking like a leaf out of desperation and arousal. He began to walk towards the exit, but had to stop to hold himself four steps in. The leak was more of a gush this time. He felt his warm pee pool into his hands with a hiss as he frantically grabbed his dick to stop. He whimpered then moaned at the feeling of his hands grinding against him. Two grinds against his cock was what it took this time. The leak stopped, but he kept dribbling. He grinded against his hand some more. He couldn't let go now, not when he was at work. Not when it felt so good to be this desperate. The dribbling stopped, but he found that if he moved, it would start up again. He was stuck. Frantically, he looked around. There was a trash can at his desk. He waisted no time stumbling to it.

He frantically undid his pants with trembling hands, but was suddenly struck with latchkey desperation. The mere thought that he could potentially relieve himself now was too much for his poor bladder to handle. "No!" He couldn't help his little yelp. He tried to undo his pants even faster, his stream came out in three gushing spurts, only slowing down two times as he undid his pants. He finally whipped his dick out, bent over the trash can, and let himself pee into it with a sighing moan of relief. His stream came out with a maddeningly loud hiss.

As he gathered enough of his consciousness to realize, he suddenly remembered he wasn't alone in the building as he heard footsteps and whistling approaching. His face went pale. He quickly tried to hide himself and his substitute toilet under his desk, clumsily stumbling and leaving a few droplets on the floor, the side of the trashcan, a bit of his hand and a bit of his sleeve. He tried as best as he could to contract his urethra and stop the stream, but his need was too intense. The best he could do was make the stream smaller as to not make as much noise and pray the janitor didn't hear him. He couldn't help his shaking and low moans and whimpers, so he covered his mouth with his free hand. It all felt so good. He was hunched over the trashcan, ass in the air, so his erect cock hopefully wouldn't make more of a mess. The slow release, the desperation for more, the thrill of potentially being found out, his hand mindlessly stroking his cock as he peed. He was in pure sexual bliss. He was edging himself at this point. Tears welled up in his eyes. His whole body was trembling in extacy. His face was beet red, he was sweating bullets, his hair was matted to his forehead and his glasses were foggy. He was a proper mess, part of him hoped the cute janitor would see him like this. He pulled down his pants to make the matter more risky and thrilling. Potentially being found bent over the trashcan, peeing with an obvious erection, ass exposed in his tiny briefs. He bucked his hips into his grip at the thought as the footsteps grew dangerously near. Suddenly, he was only able to hear his own little breathy moans and whimpers, but he didn't care until,

"PROFESSOR WHITLOCK!?" the janitor blurted out. The professor's breath got caught in his throat as his eyes met the janitor's. The professor's face reddened fiercely as his eyes became even more watery. He tried to cover himself, but was torn between covering his face and his dick, although the janitor had already gotten an eye-full.

"D-don't look at me...! I-I'm so s-sorry- I couldn't help it- I n-needed t-to so b-badly- I-" Jonathan stammered as the janitor stared at him, slack-jawed. Suddenly Jonathan's eyes went wide as an intense feeling crept up on him quickly. "LOOK AWAY! LOOK AWAY! LOOK AWAY-" Jonathan urged before he was cut off by the most intense orgasm of his life. He couldn't suppress his moans entirely and ended up choking three of them out, his face reddening further each time. His body froze, dick in hand, as an absurd amount of sperm for a 47 year old man to produce shot out and dripped down onto his white knuckled fingers. The janitor couldn't bring himself to move or look away. Jonathan took a moment to catch his breath, leaning against the trash can, almost forgetting the janitor was there.

"Oh my God..." The janitor blurted out. Jonathan recoiled and winced, trying not to make eye contact as he quickly tucked the culprit of this mess back into his damp briefs and pulled up his pants.

"I-I'm so s-sorry, Jett... I-I'll clean it up... p-please don't tell anyone what you saw..." Jonathan said meekly, hiding his face behind his free hand. Jett was almost as red in the face as Jonathan.

"I-I won't... Do you, uh... need help with anything?... I-I can lend you my sweater... to cover up the wet spot on your pants until you get home..." Jett awkwardly proposed. Jonathan's eyes softened.

"Y-you'd do that...?"

"Yeah, of course..." Jett smiled meekly.

[bellaneedstopee]

32 - Dramatic pee dance, or denying their desperation?

Both! I know it's a cop out answer haha but nothing is hotter than someone initially pretending nothing is wrong, trying to subtlety keep their thighs pressed together, sneaking in a squeeze when no one is looking, trying to maintain their dignity, trying so hard not to show their need, only to become so desperate they can't control themselves anymore and doing a full fledged potty dance, hands shoved deep in their crotch, barely able to move without leaking.

[thesecretomoblog]

Duncan desperate in his maid outfit.

[brookes-drops]

Scaramouche/Wanderer Headcanons!

To kick things off, he’d probably have a small and weak ass bladder. Damn you Ei(/j).

I like to think that he wouldn’t be vocal about his need, and would rather be shy to ask if he can go and more hesitant to announce or state his need. However, I think he would start becoming vocal about it when it starts to get real bad.

The most he’ll do that would be considered “vocal” (before he’s nearing his limit) would be making small noises, but that’s it.

He tries to be subtle when it comes to body language, but when he’s alone or it’s really bad, he’ll definitely be fidgeting a lot, maybe even doing a slight potty dance if it gets really bad.

He also fidgets with his accessories if he’s desperate, but mostly in the earlier stages of his desperation.

If he has an accident around another person, he’ll likely yell at them to look away.

After the accident, he’ll mostly try to cover up his face by tilting his hat down.

Denies wanting to be comforted, but definitely wants it.

Usually tears up after an accident, sometimes full on crying if he’s around someone he really trusts (the only person I could think about for the people he really trusts would be Nahida, Tartaglia and Traveler (these two only a bit)).

Cries if someone comforts him, but will calm down relatively quickly.

He prefers verbal comfort, but he does enjoy physical comfort sometimes.

That’s all I’ve got. If you have any complaints or anything to add onto this, go ahead!

[desperateparamedic]

PRESIDENTIAL GASTRONOMIC AFFAIRS

Chapter1“Oh, my goodness,” Alex muttered under his breath, clenching his fists as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The symphony of discomfort inside him was unbearable—a cacophony of bubbling gas and urgent pressure that refused to be ignored. His face flushed crimson as another loud burp escaped him, drawing a few curious glances from the nearby guests at the state dinner.“Are you alright, Alex?” asked the ambassador’s daughter, Emily, her brows knitting together with concern. She leaned closer, her perfume wafting over him, but it only seemed to heighten his nausea.“I’m fine,” he lied through gritted teeth, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Just… enjoying the food.”Enjoying was a strong word. The rich, unfamiliar dishes had seemed enticing when they arrived, but now they were his worst enemy. Every bite seemed to churn and twist in his gut, demanding attention. He could feel the distinct urge to pee pressing against his bladder, every step threatening to betray him. But the pooping… oh God, the pooping. It was worse than he dared admit, a slow but inevitable build-up that left him sweating beneath his tailored suit.He glanced around the grand hall, hoping for an escape route. The chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting a golden glow over the elegantly dressed guests. Diplomats, dignitaries, and their families filled the room, laughter and chatter mingling with the soft hum of classical music. It was supposed to be a night of diplomacy and charm, a chance for him to shine as the president’s son. Instead, he felt like a ticking time bomb, desperate to find a bathroom before things got truly embarrassing.“Excuse me,” Alex blurted out abruptly, pushing back his chair and standing up. His movements were stiff, as though his body was rebelling against him. “Nature calls.”Emily raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she nodded politely. “Of course. Do let us know if you need anything.”“Yeah, thanks,” he muttered, already weaving his way through the crowd. Every step was agony, each footfall jarring his aching stomach. He tried to keep his composure, but the pressure was relentless. A small pop escaped him as he passed a group of diplomats, and he froze momentarily, praying no one had noticed.Focus, Alex. Just get to the bathroom.He scanned the room frantically, searching for the exit. The layout of the palace was foreign to him, and panic started to set in as he realized he had no idea where he was going. His bladder screamed at him with increasing urgency, and his gut twisted painfully with every labored breath.“Looking for something, young man?” came a gravelly voice behind him.Alex turned to see an older gentleman, the ambassador himself, giving him a knowing look. “Uh, yes. I, uh… just need to use the restroom.”The ambassador chuckled softly, gesturing toward a hallway to his left. “It’s this way. Second door on the right.”“Thanks,” Alex said quickly, practically sprinting toward the indicated direction. The relief of finally having directions was short-lived, however, as the pressure within him continued to mount.He burst into the hallway, heart pounding, and spotted the second door. With a surge of hope, he reached for the handle—only to find it locked.No, no, no.His mind raced as he tried the door again, rattling the handle frantically. The desperation was almost physical now, a crushing weight that left him lightheaded. He pressed his ear against the door, listening for any sound that might indicate someone was inside. Nothing.“Hey!” he called out, banging on the door. “Is anyone in there?”Silence.Another gurgle from his stomach made him groan aloud. The embarrassment was overwhelming, but the need was undeniable. He glanced around, checking to make sure no one was watching, then dropped to his knees and fumbled with the lock. His fingers trembled as he worked, sweat dripping down his forehead.Finally, with a triumphant click, the door swung open. Alex stumbled inside, locking it behind him, and immediately began tearing at his belt.

Look Chapter 2

[johnsjackolantern4902]

I'm back Scarehoes, something big is coming, and yes, it has piss again.

You have been warned...

[wet-jammies]

Office boy returns!

Finally done with his chatty client, he encounters yet another obstacle!! Well, at least he found an alternative... there's even cleaning supplies, too!

[an-icky-yucky-blog]

I finally figured out how to draw 4ndrew’s hair heehee

Feat. My OC PabIo Torres

Commissions!

Chibi commissions!

[wetvett]

Perhaps some more Dr.IndianaJones wetting to appease ones mind...? 🥺👉👈

lucky you! youre getting two jones’ for the price of one!

self plug,, if you like my art and would like to get a piece from me thats more than just a sketch, pls commission me over on v/gen!

I will happily draw omo/ piss kink / a lot of other kink stuff as well, even though it doesn’t mention that in my TOS lmao

[invisible-key]

Wet Morning

Kinks: omorashi

OCs: Bernie

Summary: Bernie drinks 1 litre before going to bed and wakes up with a very full bladder. 

Word count: 600 words

Bernie woke up unusually early in the morning. At first he wanted to go back to sleep but then he realized what had awoken him. His bladder was too full. He could feel the pressure in his abdomen, accompanied by a slight dull ache. He suddenly remembered that he had drank one liter of water before going to bed to achieve this exact situation. But he didn't feel the need to use the toilet, which was strange. He explored his bladder curiously - running his fingers along his abdomen to feel its shape. It was large, round, and rock hard. When he pushed down, it hurt, but it didn't make him need to go. He tried to push more to see if it makes him leak, but his bladder was sealed tight. He smiled to himself. He decided to go back to sleep and see what happens. He was too excited to fall asleep, but after a while, he managed to relax and drift back to dreamland… 

Two hours later, he was awoken by pain coming from his abdomen. He whined and rolled over in bed. His massive bladder was aching constantly. With each heartbeat, the pain grew stronger and then diminished in a pulsatile fashion. He was afraid to move, as each movement put more pressure on his swollen bladder and made the pain nearly unbearable. He was afraid his bladder was going to burst, even though he had read that it was unlikely to happen. Despite the strong pain, he still felt no urge to pee.

He decided to carefully walk to the toilet and relieve himself, as he has tormented his bladder enough. He rolled over veeeery slowly, trying to avoid putting pressure on his bladder. He grimaced every time a muscle pushed on his bladder from a new angle. He carefully sat up on the bed. The seated position made the pain worse, so he stood up -

That's when it hit him. Tremendous urge to pee washed over him and piss started pouring out of him before he even realized what's happening. He panicked. “I'm pissing myself in my own room! No! My carpet!” He pressed his hands into his crotch, but it did not help at all. Warm urine kept flowing in between his fingers, dribbling onto the floor. He looked around in panic to find something to save him, anything. He saw a small towel laid over his chair. He grabbed it and shoved it in between his legs. Piss soaked through his pajama pants and onto the towel. He was shaking as urine kept flowing out of him against his will. The towel was becoming fully wet. “Am I really going to soak the whole towel with my piss?!” he thought. Fortunately, the flow diminished, and finally stopped. He removed the towel from his crotch and looked down at his feet. There was a wet spot on the carpet. “Oh no! This is bad! How am I gonna clean this?” But he decided to clean himself first. He walked to the bathroom with his legs apart, his soaked pajama pants clinging uncomfortably to his legs. Pee kept dribbling from him along the way.

He climbed into the bathtub and removed his wet clothes, tossing them into the tub. He turned on the shower and let warm water wash over his body. He closed his eyes and relaxed. He realized that losing his pee has actually made him feel very nice and comfortable. He felt so good after relieving his bladder. He relaxed and enjoyed the warm feeling. He can worry about cleaning up later. For now he will just enjoy himself. 

[secret-waterblog]

For @linkspussy’s fantasy omovember day 25: Different Races, Different Habits

“You elves are too prissy,” Gimli the Dwarf taunted Legolas the Elf, “just go ahead and piss. I don’t know why you need to find a privy. Us Dwarfs have no problems with just going in the open as nature intended.” Gimli stated

“Elves will make water outside if we have to, but we value our privacy. We tend to have strong bladders and can hold it for a long time. I have been having to urinate in front of the whole fellowship for the past few days. I would prefer to be able to take a private wee for once,” Legolas’s voice seemed agitated, he was normally very cool in demeanor but the blonde elf did have a breaking point.

“I also miss the luxury of being able to relieve myself in the comfort of a privy or a private chamber pot,” Boromir admitted.

“I personally like getting to pee outside,” Pippin admitted, “my mum never let my do it back in the Shire.”

“For good reason,” Sam scolded, “do you know how unclean that would be, when hobbits walk around in bare feet? You would get us all sick.”

Not one to be left out, Aragorn added his insight into the discussion, “Elrond did not like it when I would relieve myself outside when I was young living with him. So one reason I traveled with Elladan and Elohir was because I could make water outside without anyone judging me for it since it was a necessity when being rangers.”

All the talk about urinating made Legolas’s need more desperate, luckily the elf saw a cottage in view that appeared to have a privy outback.

With his elf speed he made sure he reached it before the rest of the fellowship did. He cautiously opened the door to admire the luxury he found and latched the door behind him.

While Legolas would normally take his piss standing up, he wanted to make the most of his rare find and take a relaxing sitting down wee. He pulled his leggings down, sat on the bench and began to tinkle.

Legolas sighed it was the first time in weeks that he got to relieve himself in private and it felt amazing. Because elves were private creatures not having privacy had been taking a toll on his mental well-being.

When he finished he pulled his leggings back up and headed out to let the rest of the fellowship have a turn if they desired ,and to hopefully find a water basin or pump to wash his hands.

[thesecretomoblog]

And today’s patreon preview.