I wet the bed. I feel no need to stop wetting the bed.
It's weird hey. Started as a kid when I realised I just could. A naughty little secret. Full of guilt but I guess a feeling of control. I got my mom to react. No punishment just het attention.Now I muse over the conundrum. On the one hand I am too lazy to get out of bed and just relax and enjoy the feeling of the wee running across my tummy and down one side. But then it gets cold and I wake up and wee again to warm it and then I have to get up early to get all the wet sheets and put them through the washing machine.
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