Let me tell you about the evening that ignited my interest in wetting, desperation and pee. I live in East London, and a few years ago I went on a night out with a couple of good friends of mine. For context, we're all guys in our late twenties. One friend, who I knew from school, brought his sister along, who is a few years younger than us, so she would have been in her mid twenties. For context, I'd known Nick and his younger sister for years, and so although she was widely regarded as being stunning looking, I'd never really looked at her that way. Besides, I was in a committed relationship. The point being, this was just a fun night out with friends.

We arrived at a bar. It was probably 10pm, and we'd been drinking at home before. By this time, it was busy out and there was a line to get in. We waited in line for what must have been about 20 minutes, chatting and smoking. At some point, my friends sister must have left the line (without making it obvious, to me at least), and so by the time we got into the bar, she didn't enter with us. As far as I can remember, we all questioned where she was while we went to the bar to get drinks.

10 minutes later, we were sat down at a table, having our drinks. It was packed, loud music, quite dark. Suddenly, she appeared out of the crowd and came up to our table looking a bit nervous and sheepish, and told her brother she had to leave, while quickly saying some polite apologies to the rest of us that she had to go and meet a friend. Most of the group noticed anything particularly untoward or took any real notice - we just said our goodbyes and wished her a good night. Except me.

While she was standing next to me, while I was sat down, her waist was at eye level not more than a few inches from me. In the dim light of the bar, I noticed absolutely unmistakably that the crotch of her tight leather trousers - from front, to half way up her butt - was sopping wet. And the wetness ran down both inside legs. It was undeniable, she had completely wet herself.

I said nothing, and have said nothing since. To this day, I don't know what happened. All I can assume is that while we were in line, she desperately needed the loo and decided to take herself off to find a toilet, perhaps in another pub, or a restaurant or something. She must have got caught short and released her entire bladder into her trousers. I have often imagined her running out of time and darting into a side street and releasing. She must have then decided she needed to go home to change, didn't want to leave without telling her brother, and probably assumed nobody would notice in the dark with her dark trousers.

I think about it almost weekly. I had a huge pee kink even well before this, but to this day it's one of my favourite events. I do feel sorry for her, bless her she must have been mortified. Part of me wants to bring it up with her one day, but I know it would be inappropriate.