You stretch your arms over your head and let them rest around Carrots' shoulders. She stirs a bit, but you know you still have a few more moments to get to the bathroom first, so you're in no rush. On top of that, it's Saturday, so neither of you are in any rush anyway.
	The Monday to Friday, five to nine shifts; this is something you can get used to. Ever since you and Carrots saved the city, it's been perks galore--and this one, you have admit, is probably the best.
	Carrots grunts and you look down at her. Her big, purple eyes are revealed, and she looks back at you a moment later.
	“Hey...” She smiles.
	“Mornin'.” You reply. “Wakey-wakey eggs and bakey.”
	Her smile widens a bit and she buries her face into the fur of your stomach. “You know I hate it when you say that.”
	“That's exactly why I say it. Telling me to stop will only make it worse. You should know that by now.”
	“I do know that.” She moans back, struggling to speak through a stifled yawn. “I guess I just like the abuse.”
	You snort and look up toward the ceiling, to admire Carrots' apartment. You can't help but feel slightly jealous of how nice it looks in the morning.
	Her arms stretch and you hear a feminine noise leave her mouth. She yawns again, but this time, it isn't stifled.
	“I really have to pee.”
	You look down at her, suddenly losing interest in her apartment.
	“Of course you do,” you say. “You've been holding it for the last nine hours.”
	She half sighs and half yawns, and then looks up at you. “I don't hear you complaining.”
	“I have to pee, too. See, does that make you feel any better?”
	“Mmmm.” She groans into your chest. “No. I still have to go.”
	“You'll get to go soon, don't worry. I won't take long.”
	A few moments of silence pass by.
	“...You're going to rush into the bathroom the moment I get up, aren't you?” She asks, her face still buried in your fur.
	“Just like I always do.” You answer back.
	She smiles. “Just don't take too long.”
	“Do I ever?”
	She looks up at you with an indiscernible expression on her face, at least indiscernible beyond the look of 'still trying to wake up and not doing a good job at it.' But you can tell by the gesture she is skeptical.
	“Don't worry,” you reply to her unspoken words. “I'll be as quick as a hare.”
	She ignores the joke and reburies her face in the fur of your stomach.
	“You know, I can't go if you keep me stuck here in pillow purgatory.”
	“Pillow purgatory....” She repeats, a smile on her face. She rolls on her back and closes her eyes. “Go pee before I punch you.”
	You slip free of your covers and put your feet on the cold floor. You make your way to the bathroom, and, after closing and locking the door, you begin the slow process of brushing your teeth. 
	When you brush your teeth after a night alone, you do it within a minute, a minute and a half if you're feeling particularly hygienic; but after a night with Carrots', you brush gently, in slow, delicate circles, for a full five minutes--as is recommend by all reputable hygienists. You just want to be your best around her.
	When urinating after a night alone, the process is straightforward and mindless. But, with Carrots outside, you stand in front of the toilet for a few moments, to contemplate and prepare. You then urinate forcefully, taking backward steps away from the bowl to make the sound of splashing urine as loud as possible.
	Now, having delegated urination to a task of its own―something you only do when spending the morning with Carrots―you sit down on the toilet to take care of your other manner of business. While sitting, you hear a gentle rasping on the door.
	“Hurry up, Nick.” Carrots' voice is whiny, almost child-like.
	You snort. “Won't be much longer now!”
	This is unusual, you think to yourself. First she mentions how badly she has to pee, and now she is rushing you by knocking on the door. You get up from the toilet, clean yourself, and flush. Ha, you internally laugh. She must have to go really badly this morning.
	Not wanting to pass up such a great opportunity, you take a long look in the mirror and ponder other potential hygienic tasks. You run your hands through your fur; the fur on your chin and down your temples, and then the fur by your ears, and then you slide down to the tuft of fur on your chest.
	Hmm, you think, may as well trim it up before it gets out of hand. You open up the medicine cabinet and remove a small pair of grooming scissors. This shouldn't take long.
	“Niiiiick!” Judy whines from outside the door.
	“I'm coming, Carrots.” You reply. “I'll just be another minute.”
	You hear her moan softly from the other side of the door. Wow, you think. It really must be bad.
	Doing your best to keep the smile pushing up into your lips from messing up your cut job, you trim your fur from top to bottom, taking up minute after minute on a job you know full well could have waited.
	You hear another rasp on the door. “Nick, I'm seriously gonna pee myself. What are you even doing in there?”
	“Sorry!” You call back, trying to keep the glee out of your voice. “I'll be right out.”
	“Come on,” she answers back. Her tone is more serious now, but she doesn't seem mad―not yet at least. “It's really bad.”
	You decide it is time to start bringing your game to a close. You consider making Carrots have an accident outside the bathroom door, but you're not sure she'd ever completely forgive you. If she were angry enough, she might not let you use the bathroom first anymore, and while that was the sorta rule you could break with superior speed, you knew from experience that when she didn't get her way, she would 'hold out' until she did. 	“No need to fly too close, Icarus.” You whisper to the you in the mirror.
	You begin the finishing touches to your clip job, at least wanting your fur proportions to be symmetrical, when you hear another rasp at the door. “Nick, I'm gonna have to mop the floor if you don't hurry! Seriously!” There is now more than a little urgency in her voice.
	“Okay, okay, I'm coming out. Gimme like thirty seconds....”
	“Thirty seconds....” You hear her repeat to herself in exasperation. “I don't think I have thirty seconds! Nick, please, it's gonna come out!”
	You heave a sigh of obligation and quickly cut the last few spots, merely hoping your aim is accurate.
	You walk out of the bathroom. Carrots pushes you out of the way with her free hand, the other hand wedged between her legs like a child's.
	“Finally!” The door slams shut.
	As usual, you remain completely still by the bathroom door, hoping to overhear the sounds of Carrots urinating heavily into the toilet. Your ears flick in surprise as the sound comes only a few seconds after the door closes. Your eyes widen a bit and you smile.
	Wow, you think. She was serious....
	You can't help but ponder what would have happened if you'd stayed in there a few more minutes... or possibly even a few more moments.
	Her stream goes on for the usual amount of time, though you remark internally that it is louder and more powerful than usual. Standing by the door helps you hear the finer details, but you suspect you'd hear the details of this torrent from the opposite end of the orom. You smile with satisfaction and remind yourself to compare notes with the neighbors.
	You suddenly realize that your absurdly loud long distance urinating whenever you wake up at her apartment had probably been overheard by them too, and change your mind about the comparing notes.
	After hearing the toilet flush, you head to the kitchen and begin working on breakfast, hopefully to have her plate ready for after her shower. 
	You'd tried a few times to take a shower before she'd had a chance to pee, just to see what would happen. Both times Judy had barged into the bathroom and demanded for you to stay behind the curtain and not peek. You'd enjoyed it, but she'd reproached you both times, and the second time she'd even seemed the slightest bit annoyed, legitimately annoyed. You decided not to press the issue.
	About fifteen minutes later, you hear the door of the bathroom click, and within moments the humidity in the entire apartment changes. You look back and find among the billowing steam pouring out from the bathroom a furry mound of butt shaking with every forward step. You nearly spill bacon grease on your foot with your compulsive turn toward the suspiciously under-dressed Judy.
	“Well, hello.”
	Without looking back, Judy pulls out a pair of black bikini panties from the top drawer of her dresser and slips them on. Your eyes stay on her butt as she bends down, and then stands up straight, and then as the edge of the panties pull up snugly against her butt cheeks.
	She lets the edge of her shirt fall over the waist line and turns to look at you, and then at the pan of bacon held in your hand.
	“Is breakfast ready?”
	“O-Oh.” You look at the pan with a surprised expression and quickly set it back down on the stove. “Yes, we're having salad this morning.”
	She looks back at you, confused. “...Salad with bacon and eggs?”
	“It was a joke.” You reply. “Don't worry about it.” You turn back to the bacon and begin setting the finished slices on her plate. “So, uh, Carrots....”
	You don't see it, but you can feel the crook in her eyebrow.
	“Didn't you go to bed with underwear on?”
	“...Why do you ask?”
	You feel thankful you're facing away from her, as your lips curl into an involuntary smile. “No reason, no reason.... It's just you walked out of the bathroom butt naked. Can't say I was expecting that.”
	You bring the plate to her. There is no particular expression on her face, but you swear you can see her cheeks darkening a little in embarrassment.
	“Are you complaining?” She looks back at you with a look that shows she knows how clever her response is, but a look that deceives her by showing how much she wants it to distract you.
	“Not at all. It was a pleasant change of pace. Consider showing me your butt more often.”
	She begins to smile at you, but you continue quickly.
	“It's just... I was worried you'd wet yourself a little bit waiting on me, in which case I'd―Oh no! Don't be embarrassed!” You take on your most condescending tone, being sure to cross it with a safe and distracting amount of mock amusement. “It could happen to anybody, Carrots. Accidents do happen.”
	“I did not 'have an accident,' Nick!” She fired back. “...I just decided to walk out naked. I didn't feel like putting on my panties and I am comfortable around you. If you don't like it maybe I should start wearing sweatpants again....”
	“No, no!” You reply, showing as much remorse as you can muster. “No need to be extreme, Carrots. I was just teasing.” You begin to head back over to the stove. You look over your shoulder at her. “And feel free to walk out naked as often as you'd like.” 
	You give her a reassuring smile and she smiles back at you, looking as if she feels victorious. You suspect for a moment that she knows her own excuses had been transparent, and that those mutual smiles had been an unspoken contract to leave the topic unbroached, but after a few moments of deliberation, you conclude this is unlikely, as her returning smile had seemed too victorious, too much as if she'd won some kind of spar, when in reality, the proper smile to seal such a contract would be a submissive, thanking smile.... 
	Had she just mocked you?
	You feel a strange compulsion. You are nearly sure, almost entirely positive, that your instincts are correct, and that she had indeed wet herself a bit. Your instincts are normally reliable, and all signs point to that conclusion. But the lack of confirmation, combined with that smile, that bold, mocking smile.... No, you think, you need more than this.
	Carrots had never admitted to soiling her underwear before, but there'd been too many occasions that had pointed to it being a likely outcome for it to have never happened once. Too many times that had ended with pee dancing and squirming around and childish crotch holding, often times in public. Too many pit stops and too many comments of 'I thought I was going to wet myself waiting for the bathroom key,' and 'that's a really long line; I hope I can make it!' Oh, and your personal favorite: 'Ugh! Stupid people and their stupid traffic and their stupid traffic lights and of course I had to drink a bunch of stupid coffee!'
	For once, you think, you're going to know the truth.
	You finish making your breakfast and sit down across from her. You know Judy will be doing the laundry soon, and likely with some manner of urgency, but she'll have to wait for you to shower first, and that will be your opening.
	You glance up at her a few times, trying to not to act too suspicious, but despite Judy's bed fur and her bed eyes and her largely unkempt appearance, you can't help but feel she is more sexy than she's ever been before. The sounds of her whining from earlier play through your head. Not a rarity by any means, but always an aphrodisiac―though, why so much more potent now, and, for that matter, after the fact?
	When you finish your breakfast, you quickly clean up the kitchen and grab a change of clothes. After announcing that you are going to take a shower, you lock yourself in the bathroom. The moment the door is locked, you take a deep breath.
	You're not sure why you're so nervous; nor are you sure why you're so excited. At this point, you've decided that your inordinate arousal is a result of more than just her whining from earlier, but from the knowing that for once, if she did leak, if she had wet herself, even the most minute amount, she could not hide it from you. You would finally know.
	You swallow and move toward the small closet in the bathroom. You open the door and kneel down gently, not to alert Judy through the cracking of your knees. You begin to sift through the clothing, your heart doing leaps and bounds. Why, you ask yourself, are the panties not sitting on the top of the hamper? Did she hide them?
	A few moments later, you stumble upon a purple ball of cotton, crudely shoved toward the bottom of the bundle. You snatch it out of the hamper and lift it up.
	You unball the panties, and before they are completely straightened out, you are greeted by the sight of darkened fabric, the moderate shade of purple almost turned to a shimmering shade of black. You cannot help but let your jaw drop a few inches, as your expectations are not only met, but surpassed.
	With the panties held suspended in front of you, it is immediately evident why Judy had shoved them to the depths of the hamper. You examine the bottom and find the entire gusset of the panties soggy with liquid.
	This was no leak, you think to yourself. Judy really had been serious.
	The next action you do, you readily admit to yourself is gross, but you do it anyway in order to verify a thought. You bring the wet portion―which, you think to yourself, is no small portion at all―to your nose and sniff it. You then pull the pungent smelling cloth away with satisfaction.
	Your worry had been that she'd washed the panties out in the shower or sink to prevent them from staining, which would have cast doubt on just how badly she'd 'leaked' into them, but having verified that the liquid in the underwear was just as you'd thought, urine, it was clear the aforementioned 'leak' would need to redubbed something more appropriate. Perhaps a flood? Or maybe a typhoon? Or maybe....
	Accidents do happen, you remind yourself with a smug smile.
	You look at the panties for a long while, wondering what to do with them. You are in no rush to put them down, though you can't spend forever in silence. You briefly consider doing something perverse with them, but immediately reconsider. Not only is such a thing not your style, Judy would find out anyway, as if the underwear were left too wrinkled or potentially filled with another substance, she'd know as soon as you got out and she did the laundry.
	With a smile on your face, you stretch the panties out flat in the air and gingerly place them on the very top, so that they will be the first thing Judy sees when she goes for the clothes. Your heart flutters nervously at the thought, and you even reach forward once to retrieve them and rebury them, but you ultimately leave the panties there and go for the shower.
	You finish your shower and emerge from the bathroom. Judy goes in after you, as she always does, though with a bit more of a hurried manner. You walk over to the kitchen table and begin pretending to look at your phone.
	You detect a pause in the bathroom, as the shuffling of rabbit feet and clothing comes to a sudden halt. After a few moments, it continues again. When Judy walks out of the bathroom, she doesn't so much as glance in your direction.
	The moment she is outside the front door you snort. 
	“Not sure what I expected...” You say to yourself. 
	When she returns, she doesn't seem to have a strange expression on her face, nor does she seem to be actively ignoring you. You ask her a question and comment on some things, but each time she responds to you in a mostly normal way, though it is quick, and maybe a bit too much to the point. You realize after awhile--although you admit it might be a mistake on the part of your stressed observational skills--that she is avoiding eye contact with you, and, from the moment she'd come back from the laundry room, had only met your eyes once.
	You chuckle internally. The smallest instant of guilt flits through you, but strangely, this guilt only compels you forward.
	“So, Judy,”
	“Hmm?” She replies absentmindedly and continues wiping cleaning solution off of the kitchen counter.
	“Nice weather we're having today....”
	“It's okay.” She replies.
	“Oh? I thought you liked the rain as much as I do,” you continue, the mocking tone in your voice just a bit too obvious. “I just love when it is wet outside. Wet and rainy and everything is just dripping. The only downside is if you go outside, your clothes get all wet.”
	Her hand stops wiping the counter, but begins again a few seconds later. She replies without turning around, “Yes, Nick. That is definitely how rain works.” There is a cross in her voice between harshness and annoyance, but it is subtle, and had the words been phrased a bit less sardonically, it'd have seemed almost completely casual.
	You silently snort and look back down at your phone.
	Judy leaves the kitchen a few minutes later and switches out her rag for an antique-style feather duster she'd gotten from her mother. You watch her with quick, subtle glances up from your phone, making sure to only look when she is turned away.
	She begins to dust her desk, and a few moments later, she pauses, and then sneezes, before beginning to dust again.
	“Are you okay?”
	Judy looks over at you with a furled brow. “...What?”
	“I was just checking to see if you were okay. If you'd like, I could turn around for a moment...or...?”
	“Why would I want you to turn around?”
	“Oh, well,” you chuckle, “it's just that you sneezed pretty hard a second ago and I didn't know if maybe you wanted to change or something. Just being polite.”
	“If I wanted to... Nick,” her voice suddenly becomes stern. “Why would I want to change after sneezing.”
	“Oh, no reason....”
	“Nick Wilde.” She puts emphasis on your last name. “I swear I will go put on sweatpants and never take them, ever, if you don't explain yourself right now.”
	“Alright, alright,” you reply with a diplomatic hand waving. “Let's not be extreme.” Your eyes slide down her body and then run up and down her legs, which are exposed all the way up to the sheer cut of her black bikini panties. An image, you think to yourself after a moment of regard, you are in no hurry to see disappear.
	“I was just thinking that maybe,” you continue, “that your sneeze had caused you to wet yourself a little bit and you might want a moment to change into some clean underwear.” You watch a blush light up across her cheeks, and you wonder whether it is from embarrassment or indignation. “Accidents do happen after a-”
	“-Nick,” she begins, pausing to make sure she'd cut you off completely and entirely. “Is there something you'd like to say?”
	“No, not at all! I was just trying to be-”
	“-That's it.” Judy places the feather duster on her desk and turns around. “I'm putting on sweatpants and I'm gonna keep them on. That means no more walking around in panties, no more sleeping in my underwear―I'm putting on the sweatpants!”
	“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” You say, rising from your seat. “Let's not do anything rash here.”
	“I'm not doing anything rash. Just putting on some pants.” She bends down to open the bottom drawer of the her dresser, tactfully aiming that perfectly rounded butt in your direction as she does it. “Though, I guess if you were to tell me right now why you said all that--” She suddenly stops.
	She drops the sweatpants back in the drawer and turns to face you with a look of exasperation and a rapidly deepening blush. “You know what?” She continues, throwing her arms in the air. “Forget it. It's too late for that. I wet myself, alright? I saw the panties on the hamper. I know you found them. And I pissed in them, alright? You were in the bathroom for so... freakin' long and it took everything I had to not pee all over the floor. The moment I saw the toilet it just... came out. I couldn't stop it, alright? So just give me a break; this is more your fault than mine!”
	“Carrots, Carrots....” You rush up to her. “Hey, it's okay. I'm not judging you. I was just teasing you a bit.”
	She wipes the tears from her eyes. “Yeah, well, you probably think I'm really disgusting and I tried to keep it a secret and you found out which just makes it so much worse and... and....” She takes a deep breath.
	You snort and look her in the eyes. “Carrots, I don't think you're disgusting. Not even a little bit, alright? Accidents do happen. As you just learned yourself―the hard way, I will admit,” you chuckle, but get serious again when you see Judy's eyebrows furl up in indignation. ...”But a way nonetheless. Don't worry yourself about it, alright? I'm not judging you.”
	She sniffs. “Alright... You didn't have to tease me about it, though.” She says with a frown. You meet it with a smile. “You could have just acted like it never happened, like a normal person.”
	“Carrots, Carrots, Carrots,” you say with your most soothing tone as you pull her into a hug. “You should know better than to think I am normal at this point.”
	You can't see it, but you can tell she is smiling.
	“So does this mean no sweatpants?”
	You feel her sigh in your arms. “No sweatpants.”
	“Good. I don't think I could bear to let your legs be covered like that. I wouldn't be much of a cop if I let that kinda crime slide.”
	She shakes her head. “Watch yourself, though. After this one, you're on thin ice.”
	“Understood, Officer Bo-” you suddenly stop. “Whoops. I mean Officer Hopps.”
	“You're not helping your case.” She turns to face your chest and places a hand on your butt as she does it.
	“You sure? Kinda feels like it's helping.”
	She silently moves her hand up and down your butt cheek in response, and you reach out and do the same to her.
	“Actually, there was one more thing I wanted to ask.... Before we get too off topic.”
	“Anything.”
	“...How did you even find my panties? I hid them at the bottom of the hamper. The only way you'd have found them is if you were... looking for them.”
	You swallow. “I guess I just s-stumbled upon'em.”
	A few moments of silence pass.
	“Nick, did you just stutter?”
	“I did not.”
	“You just stuttered. I heard you stutter.”
	“I did not stutter. You're hearing things.”
	“You did! Nick! What are you hiding from me! How did you find the panties!” Immediately, Judy's body tenses up and she brings a hand to her mouth. She throws an alarmed glance at her thin walls and then looks back at you. “How did you find the panties,” she repeats, this time in a near whisper.
	“I just found them by accident.”
	“Why were you looking in the hamper at all?”
	“No reason.”
	“Nick!” She says with slowly reforming frustration. “It's not too late for me to break out the sweatpants. I'll do it! I'll do it right now!” She pulls free from your grip.
	You sigh and rub the back of your head. “Alright, alright... I'll tell you. I was... looking for them.”
	She cocks an eyebrow. “...Why?”
	“Because... I wanted to know.”
	“You wanted to know what?”
	“I wanted to know if you'd wet yourself or not.”
	She narrows her eyes. “Why did you care so much? Why care enough about it to dig through the hamper? Was it just to tease me?”
	“It was mostly just to tease you.”
	“...Mostly?”
	Another few moments of silence pass. You sigh again.
	“Mostly.” You confirm.
	“...And?”
	You roll your eyes. “Okay. Maybe... I think it's a little hot when you have to piss. Maybe. Maybe. Nothing for sure. And, maybe, I thought it would be hot if you'd, uh, wet yourself a bit―though, in my defense! I didn't think you'd full on soaked yourself. I mean, really, Judy, you didn't hold back at all. I mean at all. It looks like you straight up emptied your whole--”
	“--Okay, okay.” She said with a frown. “I get it. Yeesh. Anyway, quit trying to distract me.” She jabs a finger at your chest. “What's all this about getting turned on about my needing to use the bathroom?” You can see her cheeks already beginning to return to their former shade of red.
	“It's as simple as that. Just like you said. I think it's hot when you have to pee, and I think it's really hot when you don't make it―even if it's only a bit.”
	“Hmm,” she put a thoughtful finger on her chin. She squints and turns to face you. “Wait a second.... Have you been taking an extra long time in bathroom on purpose?”
	“...Maybe.”
	“Nick!” She smacks you on the arm and you laugh. “Seriously, Nick! Do you have any idea who many close calls I've had because of that?”
	“Wait, really?”
	“Yes! I can't believe you've been wasting time in there while I've been outside the door dancing around like a little kid, practically wetting myself. And today....” She blushes, looks down at the floor, and then a moment later looks up in your eyes with indignation.
	“Judy,” you begin suddenly, cutting her off. “You're turning me on so much right now.”
	She pulls her head back in surprise. “I-I am?”
	“You have no idea.”
	Her eyes glance down toward the growing bulge in your pants, and then back up at your face. “You're serious right now.... About all of this....”
	“Dead serious.”
	She stands there looking some cross between shocked and disoriented. “I'm not sure what to say.”
	“For starters, you could forgive me.”
	She furls her brow and contorts her lips. “Hmm. I don't know; that was pretty embarrassing. And leaving my panties on the top of the hamper.... That was really mean.”
	“I know, I know,” you say with your most diplomatic tone. “But the fact I left them there is what makes all this okay.”
	She unfurls one eyebrow, leaving the other in an inquisitive cock. “How?”
	“Because I was honest about it.”
	She squints at you. “...I don't know if I buy that.”
	“What do you mean?”
	“Seems like a cop out. It looks more like you did it to mess with me.”
	“Yes, I did it to mess with you, but I could have found other ways to mess with you that would have never actually been clear whether I knew it happened or not. And then you would have always had to wonder. If anything, I did you a favor.”
	“Yes,” she said with annoyance. “Or you could have just not made fun of me in the first place.”
	You put on your most soothing expression and tone. “Carrots, Carrots, Carrots.... Would you tell Icarus not to fly because he might get burned?”
	“What does that have to do with anything?!”
	“I'm saying the temptation was too great. And even if it wasn't the most... moral decision, I owned up to it, didn't I? I didn't hide the panties. Like a certain someone I know....”
	“That's totally different! My... accident, didn't involve violating somebody's personal space!”
	“I technically did not violate your personal space. I violated your panties personal space.”
	“Fine! Whatever! I don't care anymore. I forgive you, alright? Just... don't go rummaging around my underwear again without permission.”
	“Aww, Carrots.” You force her into a hug, despite her best efforts to slip free. “All I have to do is ask? You're so generous.”
	“You are one sarcasm away from sweatpants, Nicholas Wilde.”
	“Should I stop talking?”
	“Yes.”
	You keep her held tight in the hug and rest your chin on her head. She sighs and you feel her warm breath on your arm.
	“Judy,” you begin suddenly, speaking low. “Will you pee your pants for me?”
	Several moments of silence pass. 
	“Nick,” she says with an unreadable tone of voice. “Let me go.”
	“Why? ...If I let you go, what are you going to do?”
	“I am going to go put on sweatpants.”
	“To pee in them?”
	“No.”
	“Then I'm not gonna let you go.”
	“Nick.” She says sternly.
	“Sorry, Judy. I've decided this is better for us both. We will stand-”
	“Nick.”
	“-here in his hug for the rest of our lives. Me with a-”
	“Nick”
	“-boner, and you without pants. The perfect couple. The perfect life.”
	“... Are you done?”
	“Yes.”
	“Let me go. Now.”
	You sigh, and with reluctant slowness, you obey. She steps back and looks you in the eyes with a skeptical expression.
	“Please?”
	“No, Nick.” She walks to the desk and resumes dusting, as if she'd never been interrupted at all.
	“Aww, why not?”
	“Because it's gross! I'm not gonna pee on myself for you!”
	“Aww, Carrots, it's not all that bad. You did it earlier, didn't you? I bet it didn't hurt.”
	“It didn't hurt, but it was gross. And it was also an accident. Doing it on purpose is a completely different thing.”
	“Okay, so what if I make it an accident?”
	“Nick,” she stops and looks back at you with a deathly serious expression. 
	“Yeah, yeah, sweatpants....”
	She turns back toward the desk.
	“...Judy, come on now. How often do I ask you for things?”
	“Really, Nick?” She turns back to face you. “What am I? Your mom?”
	“Not very often, right?” You continue, ignoring the question. “And I do a lot for you. I do a lot, if you catch my meaning.”
	Judy frowns. “...You don't do that much. Of... you know. The thing.”
	“The thing, Judy. The thing. My request is completely fair. And to be specific, no, I don't do much, but I let a lot happen. And it makes me feel very uncomfortable.”
	“It does not! Most of the time you start laughing.”
	“Yes, because I'm ticklish. Laughing from being tickled is uncomfortable. If you don't believe me I could always demonstrate....”
	“Fine! Fine.... Maybe you do a lot for me. Maybe you let me do a lot, too. But... peeing myself, Nick? That's a big one to just drop on me....”
	“It's so not a big deal, though! Really! I'll handle the laundry. I'll do all the cleaning up. We can even do it in the shower and you can rinse off with your clothes on right after.”
	“I don't know if I've ever seen you beg me like this before.”
	“See! All the more reason..... This is hard for me, you know? You know that, right, Carrots?” You approach and rub her shoulders sensually.
	She frowns. “I don't know.... Maybe someday, but not yet. Not now. You just told me about this, Nick. It's literally been minutes.”
	You sigh. “Okay, how about something different. Would you let me watch you go? No clothes or anything weird. Just a completely normal act of nature... thaaat I would happen to be there for.”
	Her dusting hand slowed down as she stopped to contemplate the notion. “So, you'd just watch me pee? Nothing else?”
	“Nothing,” you assure her.
	“I... I guess so. Haven't you seen me pee before, though?”
	“Yes, but not up close.”
	“... What does up close mean, exactly?” She asked with more than a little worry in her voice.
	“It just means I want to actually watch. Not just see it from the corner of my eyes like usual. Nothing weird, though.”
	“Nick, you're asking if you can watch me pee. 'Not weird' is not how I would describe this.”
	“Okay, well, in comparison. It's not weird in comparison to the other thing.”
	Judy bites her lip and squints at you.
	“You're cool with it. Right? It's such a small deal.”
	“Hmmm. You really want it, huh?”
	“Carrots, just hearing you talk about it has got me so turned on I can't even think straight.”
	Judy seems to contemplate this for a long moment, and then sighs a long-suffering sigh. “Alright, Nicholas. You can watch me pee.”
	“Yes!”
	She shakes her head and smiles.
	You head to the kitchen and promptly bring her a glass of water. “Chug this.”
	“Yeesh, Nick, I'm gonna have to go eventually....”
	“I know, but I'd rather it be sooner. And if it's all the same to you, my sweetest Carrots, I'd like it to be a lot when you do go.”
	“My sweetest Carrots,” she says, a slight blush deceiving her portrayed skepticism.
	“The very sweetest in the world.” You lean in and kiss her on the lips. “Now drink up. There is more where that came from.”

	Two hours pass.
	Judy is sitting on the couch, one hand buried between her legs. Her legs are shoved together, but one still manages to bob up and down. Her eyes on locked on the television, but you can see by the frequent glances toward her crotch and toward you where her mind is.
	“Okay, Nick. You wanted a lot and you're gonna get a lot, but it's still gonna be in the toilet.”
	“Oh, I know,” you say slyly. “But, hey, hey, Carrots, what's the rush? The bathroom isn't far or anything; let's make sure we do this right.”
	“The rush is that I'm about to pee all over the couch. How much longer do you want me to wait?”
	“I want you to wait until you pee on the couch, but...uh, since that's not an option,” you quickly change your tone having seen the sudden change in her expression. “How long will you wait?”
	“Five minutes max.”
	“Okay then six minutes.”
	“Four minutes,” she rebuttals with alarming speed.
	“Okay, okay, five minutes and then we do it.”
	Judy snorts. “We do it, huh? Says the guy not holding it in.”
	“Are you implying something, Carrots? Would you like it if I held my pee for you?”
	“Maybe.... Not for the same reasons you'd like it, though.”
	Six minutes later, Judy insists upon using the toilet. You try to insist the opposite, stating you've seen her hold it for longer periods of time, but she then comments on how you're already in her debt so you're in no place to be making any more requests. Reluctantly, you concede and follow her into the bathroom, your excitement mounting. 
	The moment Judy sees the toilet, you see the gentle sway of her hips turn into a flurry of inward steps and relentless fidgeting and bouncing around.
	“Okay, Nick, you ready?” She approaches the toilet and turns around. She stands there with her hands on her hips, fingers slipped beneath the hem of her panties. She is still at first, but she soon begins to squirm around again.
	“Um, yeah, let's do it.”
	Without a second thought, Judy slides the panties down to her thighs, like usual, and after glancing at you, slides them down past her knees to provide a better view.
	“Wait!”
	Judy's entire body tenses up. Her legs come together and a hand rests on her bladder. “Crap, crap, what is it?”
	“Judy, before you do it, I had... one other idea.”
	“Talk fast Nick. I'm sitting on a toilet and I really have to pee and this isn't a good combination.”
	“Go ahead and stand up then. I can't focus with you like that anyway.”
	“Easy for you to say,” she mutters, and then follows up with something about not being the one who about to pee himself, and then something about liking it, ect. ect. “Alright, quick, quick, what is it?” Her hips swing back and forth in long, wide motions. One of her hands is buried between her legs like before, except now she is bouncing up and down and leaning forward, an alert expression on her face.
	“Okay. I was thinking we renegotiate the terms of this deal.” You say with your most cordial tone.
	“Our deal? Nick, what are you talking about?”
	“I want you to pee your pants for me.”
	Judy sighs. “Nick, look-”
	-Wait, wait. I actually have something else to say.”
	“Yeah,” she says with a grimace and quick crossing of the legs. “You suddenly have a lot to say....”
	“If you pee your pants for me, I'll... do the thing.”
	She cocks an eyebrow. “...What thing?”
	You can tell by her tone she knows exactly what you're talking about.
	“The thing, Judy. Not just the thing from earlier, but like, the whole shebang. --Yes, the whole thing.”
	Her eyes widened. “R-Really? You'll do it?”
	“Yes. But you have to pee your pants for me.”
	She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth. A few moments of awkward shuffling around later she responds. “Alright, you win. I'll pee my pants. But you gotta do the whole foot, alright? Not just a toe.”
	You sigh. “The whole foot, Judy. Or at least as much as I can fit in this old snout of mine.”
	“Not that much,” she snorts. “You'd get up to my neck.--Anyway! How do we do this? Do I just get in the shower and let go?”
	“Well, first we gotta get you some pants.”
	She frowns. “Does it have to be in pants? Isn't underwear enough?”
	You consider pressing the issue, but ultimately decide panties might actually be better―at least to start with. The future is bright, after all.
	“Uh, I think underwear will work. But a different pair. A... lighter color than black.”
	“O-Oh, yeah,” Still fidgeting, Judy glances down at her own hips. “You want it to show, don't you?”
	“I do.”
	“Okay, different panties is fine just go get them. And quickly! I don't think I can hold it much longer.”
	“You want me to get them?”
	“Yes, I might start peeing if I try to do it. Plus you can pick out whatever you want just do it quick please.”
	Without wasting a moment―though half wanting her to have another accidental release―you jog to the dresser and sift through her unmentionables. You pick out two pairs: the two pairs you've pictured her pissing in more than any other. Your first choice is a tight pair of pink bikini style ones, ones that will show the moisture well, and look extra sexy on Judy even when her bladder is empty. The second choice is a gray pair of boyshorts. These are also sexy, and you like the idea of additional fabric.
	“Niiick,” Judy whines from the bathroom.
	“Coming!” You rush back to the bathroom having made your decision. 
	“Pink, huh?” She says with no particular inflection to her voice.
	“Yeah,” you hand them to her. “I almost went with the gray shorts, though.”
	She snorts and drops her panties. “I had a feeling it would be between those two. They're your favorites.”
	In what has to be near illegal speeds, Judy slips the pink panties around her waist. She stands up straight for the faintest of moments, but grimaces and immediately leans forward again.
	“Alright, now what? Do I do it in the shower?”
	“Actually,” you say, hatching a sudden idea. “I don't want it in the shower now.”
	“Why?”
	“Because now that it isn't just a favor, I can bargain more.--I'll still clean it up,” you add rapidly, seeing the look on her face. “But I wanna see it make a puddle on the floor.”
	“You wanna see a puddle.... Alright.... As long as you do the cleaning. God, I can't believe I'm about to do this.”
	You lead Judy to the bathroom door, take her one step beyond the door frame, and stop.
	“Okay, right here.”
	“Right here?” She asks in amazement. “I was expecting somewhere... wider. Like in the middle of the apartment or something.”
	“Yes. This where I've pictured it the most. It makes the most sense too.... Unless of course you want to do it just outside the front door.”
	“You've pictured it?” She asks, ignoring your half joke half actual question. “Of course you have. What a dumb question it's your fetish. Okay, okay, do I do it now? Wow, two times in one day in the same spot that has to be some kind of record.”
	Part of you is enjoying Judy's rapid fire speech and fervent squirming around, and you're tempted to keep pushing it until she loses control again, but you decide to save the advanced tactics for another time.
	“Sure. You can let go. I should probably warn you though that even if you have to go it can sometimes take a few-”
	Shhhhrrrrrrrrrrrr
	“-Oh, wow, okay, you're going.”
	“I told you it was bad.” 
	Some of the urine runs down her thighs, soaking the fur of her legs and dribbling down to her toes. A lot of it, however, thanks to her open legged posture, forms a waterfall through the now dark pink panties and streams straight to the ground, the splattering having a decibel war with surprisingly loud hiss emanating from her groin area.
	Hrrrrrrhrrhrrrrrr
	The saturation of the panties starts off as a small area, starting in the center and rapidly expanding out to the sides. With every passing second the saturation grows further forward, and you presume, backward.
	“Oh my God it's so warm.” She says so in amazement, watching her own act possibly with more fascination than you.
	“Didn't you literally experience this like two hours ago?”
	“Yes, but I didn't just stand there and let it run down my legs like this.... 
	Brrhrrhhrrhhrhrh....
	“...Most of it happened while I was sitting on the toilet.”
	The stream slows down and with it, the hiss fades away.
	“Wait, most of what happened on the toilet? You mean that's where you peed the most, or most of the actual... wetting?”
	“...Both,” she answered, after a moment of contemplation.
	“...Did you not pull your underwear down?”
	“No. I didn't have time.” She looks up at you with a glowing red face. “I don't bother. If I wet myself bad enough it just drips on the floor; it's better to keep them on.”
	“You say that like this has happened to you before....”
	Judy ignores the implied question.
	“You understand we have a lot to discuss, right?”
	She chuckles. “Yes. For now, though...” She grabs the hem of the panties and pulls them up tight, the wet fabric rubbing against and pulling into her privates, causing the lips of her vagina to peek out from the side. “You wanna join me for a shower?”
	She wriggles her toes in the puddle of urine.