Pee Desperation

1. Before you go to the grocery store, drink a lot of water. You’re not allowed to pee until you get back home.

2. Wait to clean the bathroom until you’re super desperate.

3. Make a list of all the chores you have to do and drink a glass of water after each one is done.

4. Wash your dishes in warm water while desperate.

5. Drink a lot of water before putting your laundry in. You’re not allowed to pee until all of it is done and put away.

6. Clean while desperate and instead of listening to music listen to water noises.

Ooh a fantasy… I have so many ;) 

One that always comes to mind is going out with someone who knows how much I love omo. We go to a restaurant, and they order a bottle of wine, winking at me as I finish my first glass. “Don’t rush through it babe, you don’t know when you’ll be going to the bathroom next…”

I have a pretty ok time holding my bladder, but when I start to not know when I can go next (new places, airplanes, etc.) sometimes the nerves get to me. As soon as they say that, I take a mental check of where my bladder is at - and immediately panic, thinking I’m almost full. Watching the liquid flow into my glass and splash. I take a few breaths, and smile. This is going to be fun. 

A few glasses in, I now think I really am starting to feel it. My legs are starting to shake a little, a little mini pee dance in my chair. Not out of desperation, but just out of a slight discomfort. My knees are definitely squeezed together. They drop their napkin.

“Oops!” and as he bends down to pick it up, I know he’s looking at my legs under the table. How close together they are. How I’ve pulled up my skirt so the elastic isn’t over my bladder, but on my waist now, the little bulge where my fullness is sticking out.  I flush a little, and try to stop the shaking for a moment, wishing I could hold better than I could - but he and I both know that alcohol makes everything so much worse for me, and goes right through me.

When he sits back in his chair, he smiles. “You okay?” 

“Doing great,” I smile back. “How about you?” I’ve been watching him, and he’s not only had as much wine as I have, but three glasses of water - the waiter keeps refilling. He has a much higher tolerance than me, but I know this is still more than usual…and he wants to play. 

“Doing great. Let’s get the check” He gets the check and we go to leave. The second we stand up I feel my bladder send shivers. “oooh,” I wiggle my hips a little. “Just to let you know -” my voice still cracks everytime I say it, “I kinda have to go to the bathroom..but I can wait for the next place”

“Good. You’ll need to,” he says. As we leave, he pushes up close behind me as we walk out the door and I can feel his hard cock through his jeans. “Naughty boy….” I turn to him, and he presses me against the wall outside the restaurant, kissing me..and grinding into my bladder.

My panties are wet (but not from leaking..yet) as I squirm under him, feeling his cock twitch as I grind my crotch against his leg to help me hold. “I actually…really have to go…” I whisper in his ear “…and if you keep doing this…I…”

He releases me. “You might what?” he asks, playfully. As we wait for a cab, he shifts foot to foot. “You know..I kinda have to pee too…” 

“I saw you drinking all that water! I knew it. But big boys can hold it, can’t they?” I ask, casually crossing my legs (though internally, it wasn’t casual at all)

“Yes. But so can big girls.” He shoots back. 

Our cab arrives, and we go to the next bar. As we walk in, it’s icy cold - the AC must be blasting. It hits my bladder like a wave, and I let out a little gasp. “Ooh…” and I feel the first contraction, the first risk of leaking, as I tighten up and press my legs close. 

We sit down, and he immediately downs the water. “I’m trying to catch up to you…” he whispers, running his foot against my leg (tightly crossed) under the table. He winces a little and adjusts his pants. I feel my panties getting damper, still not from any leaks…but from watching him, knowing how little he shows, knowing how much he’s had to drink, and that little adjustment meant everything. 

When I have to go - I can hold it usually for some time. Alcohol and caffeine do me in, but I still have a runway. Him, on the other hand, when he has to go, it’s time. We’ve been in shopping malls and I’ve seen him go from nothing to sneaking quick grabs and shuffling towards the bathroom. We’ve been in the car, and I’ve had to pull over while he yanks out his dick - sometimes leaving a few spots on his boxers. 

I knew this was it. 

Our drinks come, and I can barely look at mine, let alone think about drinking it. I have to pee. But I know he does too, and I want to have some fun watching it, and enjoying this desperation - I get so turned on when I have to go.

He’s getting a little red, and as he grabs his martini glass, I notice his hands shaking a little. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

“You know now..I’ve really gotta go. I gotta go-” he bites his lip, and I see his hand brush his pants and make a quick grab, “like right now.”

“I’d like you to hold it for me.” My legs are crossed tight, knowing his need makes mine so much worse.

“I am. I did. I mean- I am, but,” when his words get mixed up like this, I know it’s time. I take a sip of my drink. Damn. It feels like it goes straight to my bladder. 

“I’ve had to go for an hour, and I’ve held it. I’ve squirmed under you, and kept my legs tight, and been a good girl. Now you, hold it for me, just for a minute.” 

His eyes stay on me as he takes another sip and winces, adjusting his pants up again, away from his bladder. He must be dying. I’m so horny now, I just want to take him and fuck him, but know we’ll never make it home. 

“Ok, babe,” he looks at me and adjusts himself again, this time the grab even more obvious. This is a very special show for me. 

“Here’s the plan,” I whisper to him. “I’ve gotta go too. And I’m a wreck watching you. I honestly think I might leak when I stand up, so we need to get to the bathroom. It’s in the back, and they’re unisex. Let’s get in there together. I’m going to go first…and don’t make a scene.”

He nods. I take another squeeze of my legs, feeling his eyes fixated on my crotch, and uncross them, exhaling. Fuck. I knew it, and I can feel that first dribble on the edge, ready to escape. Fuck. I should’ve gone at the restaurant. I hope this bathroom isn’t far. I stand up and feel the first leak escape, and take a look at him with a grimace. I cross my legs tight again.

“What’s going on? Go!” he whispers.

“I’m…trying…to get control!” I whisper back, tightening with everything I got.

I hurry over to the bathroom. Feeling a few leaks escape. I get inside, and immediately grab myself, cross my legs, and squirm. I take my panties off, so anything I lose won’t ruin them. He’s in a moment later, already undoing his belt. 

“Fuck! Fuck!” he exclaims, holding himself. “Help me undo this damn belt!”

I know what this means - he’s losing control too. Underneath, he’s already leaked, if he has to grab like that, there’s no other choice. I help him with his belt, kissing him although he fights me. We’re two squirming messes, and using my hands to undo his belt means that I’m constantly leaking now, little squirts running down my legs as I stomp up and down trying to keep control with this dance. 

“Stop!” he exclaims, grabbing his zipper. There’s not time for my terrible coordination on this belt. 

He gets his dick out of the zipper and I see it’s dripping - there’s already a spot on his pants. I’ve never seen this. Desperation, yes. Losing it like this - god I could cum already.

He’s pissing a heavy stream in the toilet, exhaling, while I’m dancing and holding myself next to him. “Hurry! I can’t, “ I gasp, “wait!”

He stops the stream, a feat I can tell from his face wincing. “Go now,” he knows I’m going to piss all over the floor otherwise. Now it’s my turn to let go, and god it feels good. Watching him still squirm (I also find that stopping mid-piss is even harder than holding to begin with, especially when desperate) while I get relief….

He tells me to spread my legs, so he can go again too. I oblige, and he faces me pissing in the front of the toilet, our faces both total ecstasy at this release.

getting really desperate. like out in public, had five beers, stare longingly at the bathroom as you leave knowing you have to make it home. cross your legs while you wait for your taxi and wonder if you should go back in. decide you can make it and breathe in deep, trying to keep control. feeling your legs shake a little, and adjusting your waistband. moving your feet side to side. getting in the taxi and pulling your shirt down over your jeans so you can unsnap them. the tiniest relief - but only until you hit a speedbump. and you realize you’re too close. really close. and you wonder about getting into your house, gripping your keys in your hand already and thinking about letting go - no, not thinking about that because you can feel yourself about to leak. trying to keep it in. squirming a little, pushing your foot against your crotch to help you hold. jesus.

racing in, unlocking the door, running to the bathroom and pulling your pants down just to sit over the toilet in your underwear, legs spread, shaking and desperate…trying to hold as long as you can.

Prim and proper me is horrified.  I feel like y’all might want to know what happened to me earlier this week.  

I had an iced coffee like I do every morning first thing after I woke up.  It’s a 16 ounce blend of concentrated cold brew and milk that I make at home and I drank it while emailing my elderly friend (we email daily, I love her) and catching up on work emails.  

I had an appointment at 10 a.m. that was expected to last for several hours.  I fixed myself another iced coffee for the road and neglected to visit the bathroom before leaving the house.

It was an hour drive to the office building because this city is entirely too freaking big.  I finished my second iced coffee on the way up.  By then, my bladder had filled to around a 5/10.  I passed up the bathrooms as I walked in.

The first two hours were uneventful.  I got a lunch break at noon for a half hour.  I went to McDonald’s for a Diet Coke and drank half of it with my protein bar before heading back in.  I was up to a 7/10 at this point.

The rest of the meeting took two and a half more hours.  By the end, I felt more than a little distracted.  8.5/10 as I left the building. 

I had time to kill before meeting my mother for dinner so I defaulted to Starbucks, drinking the rest of my Diet Coke on the way.  My current favorite drink is a venti Doubleshot on Ice, which is basically just a fuck-ton of espresso and a splash of milk with way too much sugar mixed in.  I don’t usually treat myself to that much sugar in general but I felt a little drained and needed the pick-me-up.  

The store was crowded, which always makes me nervous (I don’t do well with people/crowds).  I grabbed the only empty table, which happened to be right in the middle of everything.  I took out my crossword puzzle book and started on a new one.  

I tend to drink a lot when I’m nervous, so it didn’t take long for me to finish half of my espresso.  As previously mentioned, I am usually very good about keeping a tight lid on my symptoms when I need to pee.  I wasn’t having much trouble doing so and was able to manage myself perfectly fine with just a simple single toe twitch.  

No cause for alarm yet, right?  WRONG.  

All of a sudden, I got this overwhelming feeling.  Get the fuck up right the fuck now, you have exactly one minute before you wet yourself.

That’s how my inner monologue goes.  Actually, that’s not quite true.  That’s the censored version.  I don’t think anyone loves swearing quite as much as I do.  

I never ignore these feelings.  I stood up immediately and completely froze for what felt like at least thirty seconds trying to get ahold of myself without being obvious.  I couldn’t move.  I felt like I’d lose it if I took even one step.  My muscles were trembling and I was shaking all over.  

Somehow I managed to get myself under control enough to walk casually towards the bathrooms.  The second I’d locked myself safely in, the potty dance started.

I managed to get my pants down no problem.  The Spanx I was wearing underneath, not so much.  

They have these hooks in them so you don’t have to remove the whole thing to pee (nice of them!) but I had to pee so bad that I couldn’t properly work the clasps.  

I started leaking.  Fun fact about me is that once I start leaking, it’s a rare day I can regain any kind of control.  The Spanx weren’t budging and my hands were dripping.  

Spanx and panties both soaked, I had no choice but to pull them both to the side and pee around them.

What am I doing with my life that I’m having such close calls in public?!?!  And why do I love it so much?

I had to mop up as best I could with paper towels.  The worst part is that I wasn’t going home right away and had a constant reminder of my near-death-experience until things dried.