t¹s been a while since I¹ve had time to write a story, This one is based on events that happened last weekend, Ashley (note her real name) went out to dinner with a group of us last weekend. She came to work Monday talking about how bad she had to pee on the way home. She stopped at a store but they wouldn¹t let her use the bathroom unless she bought something. She said she made it home ok, but the way she blushed and the tone of her voice made me wonder. My only regret is I wasn¹t there to share it. Well here goes.
Ashley sat down behind the wheel and smiled. It had been a pretty good evening after all. With her boyfriend out of town she had dreaded spending an evening out with people from work, but it seemed like a better option than sitting home with her parents. She felt the cool dampness in her panties, remembering how hard she laughed, and how she had leaked a little pee. She often leaked a little and enjoyed the damp feeling between her legs. She knew her new white panties would have a pretty big yellow stain. She had worn black pants, and knew from experience no one would notice. Ashley placed her hand between her legs and felt the damp spot, not too bad she thought, and smelled the slightly musty aroma of her pee on her fingers.
Since she was by herself and had a long drive home she had not drank any beer like the rest of the crowd, limiting herself to two ice teas. As she pulled out she thought she should have peed before she left, but figured she could hold it for the 30 minute drive home. Once she got on the Interstate, she knew that was a miscalculation. The pressure in her bladder increased to the painful level. Afraid that if she let a little go, she couldn¹t stop, she struggled to hold it, clamping one hand between her legs and the other on the wheel. She knew there were no bathrooms on the way home except a little gas station-convenience store. Better stop she thought or I¹ll really be in trouble. Ashley occasionally wet her pants, sometimes for fun, and sometimes in real accidents, but she really didn¹t want to pee all over her car. As she pulled up to the store the need to pee increased, and she knew she didn¹t have much time. When she got our, she felt that familiar warmness between her legs and knew she had leaked some more. The warmth felt good, but did nothing to relive the pressure. It was now or never as she hobbled to the store. ³Can I have the key to the bathroom please², she asked the old man behind the counter. ³ ³Not unless you make a purchase young lady² he said with a smirk. Ashley could feel the warmth and pressure in her bladder, standing legs squeezed together, afraid to move. ³But I really have to go!!!!². ³Sorry those are the rules².
³Oh God² she thought, ³I¹m going to have a major accident.² She really did like wetting her pants, but mostly at home, where know one would notice. This was different, 20 miles for home and in public. As she walked out she knew it was a loosing battle and felt that familiar warmth start to spread, and with that she let go, feeling the relief as the warmth spread to her feet. She left a wet trail to all the way to the car, not looking back to see if anyone noticed. Embarrassed, but yet strangely excited. She knew the car seat would be wet, but at least the major damage was done outside. She could smell her pee as she got in the car, and this made her even more excited. It was on the drive home that the idea stuck her to share her ³near miss² with her friends at work, and see if anyone would figure out what really happened. She had always suspect one of her fellow co-workers occasionally wet himself, recognizing that familiar smell as he walked by, and wondering why he alway wore black or dark blue pants. We¹ll just see what happens she thought with a smile, feeling a new wetness mix in with her pee.
So there is my story. Are there two of us with the same secret. Only time will till.
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