Jennette knew what the problem was almost immediately--the waterplay from yesterday afternoon in her lover's bathroom, all those hours of playing hold-it with Eileen torturing her by pushing against her full bladder before and then during her loss of control, had obviously worn out her holding muscles. Now from out of nowhere the need had come upon her, not escalating the way it usually does from polite to insistent but arriving at full-blown urgent, uh oh I gotta pee quick can't hold it long.
Well, there was another problem, too--Jennette wasn't out in the middle of nowhere, now was she in Eileen's apartment, but instead was in the Market,the big outdoor mall. There were shops down the row somewhere that had bathrooms if she could recall which ones they were. Jennette smiled a wry smile. This could be so sexy in fantasy but there were people all around, the risk of profound humiliation and actual danger, in real life such a thing could be horrible. Wasn't gonna happen. Jennette tightened herself firmly and began walking a swift, businesslike stride towards the little restaurant in the next section. I'm the queen of hold-it, she thought to herself. Little blue jeans, you are safe with me.
Uh oh, oh NO this is not funny, she wailed silently a couple minutes later: the signs proclaiming the restaurant's former space to be available for rent could be seen 25 yards away, and Jennette stood motionless, fists at her sides, staring at the For Rent banners as if she could scowl them away. Where else, where else?
Urgent had become desperate at record speed, and Jennette's hands, knees, and stomach were fluttering with effort. Then to her astonishment--because she had endured that state of affairs for over an hour yesterday--she felt herself losing it, a tiny trickle escaping. Stop it, stop it now, she clamped, and her astonishment increased when nothing happened. Slow but steady, unstoppable, insistent...still trembling with her continuing but insufficient effort, Jennette watched as a wet dot appeared just above the seam line. Wet dot, wet spot, wet patch no no stop!! Jennette blew out all her air, swallowed to clamp off her windpipe, and made as if to inhale with all her might, and finally managed to close the flow. She tried to breathe and managed some shallow gasps. Beneath the front button of her pants, she felt spasms, and she rocked up and down on her toes in agony. Too much. Impossible. Irresistable, the slow leak slipped past her helpless clutching, oozing more and more darkness into the blue cotton, for what seemed like a very long time before Jennette was able to regain control.
Once she did, though, the desperate urgency subsided. Inspect the damages: how much, how obvious? A lot of the dark patch was low in her crotch and directly between her thighs, the whole accident area no bigger than a credit card. Well, OK, a little larger. Maybe no one will notice but I have to get to a bathroom. Isn't there a bar over...oh damn it, they won't be open this time of day. Oh wait, the laundromat! They even have a baby-changing station in there, sure. Jennette started off in that direction, unable to walk at full speed but holding on OK.
She made it less than a block before, again out of nowhere and with no advance warning, the irresistable force was back. Jennette stopped walking but could do nothing about it as again a lazy unhurried wetting peeing peeing watching the patch spread in horrified fascination...I'm wetting my pants. I mean, not on purpose, I can't stop it, I can't believe this!
As it had before, the overflow finally stopped, the pressure retreating slightly. Jennette could feel her bladder hard and heavy as a bowling ball inside her. The new territory claimed by the darkness looked HUGE. Bigger than a grapefruit, maybe smaller than a basketball. Everyone can see. She clutched her handbag over the front of her pants. Amazingly, people were walking on, some passing quite close by, yet no one seemed to have taken notice of the spectacle she thought she was making of herself. Eileen I am going to kill you, she thought.
Eileen, yes! She slipped her hand into the bag and fished out her cellular phone and dialed with still-trembling hands. The answering machine picked up. Oh please be close to the speaker! "Eileen pick up...Eileen, if you're there, oh god will you PICK UP THE PHONE!"
"Jennette?"
"This is kind of an emergency. Can you come to the Market, close to the Thimble Gifts shop, and pick me up? I, uh...you know what we were doing yesterday in the bathroom? I..." (lowering her voice) "...seem to have weakened my pee-holding muscles and I wet my pants and I need you to come get me."
"Yeah?" Eileen sounded positively fascinated. Then, with more concern, "Do you have somewhere you can sit out of sight?"
"Not reallly. Please hurry, I'm afraid someone's going to notice and start pointing and laughing and making fun of me."
"On my way."
Jennette paced slowly, trying to position herself as far from people passing by as possible. Five minutes passed, during which Jennette was quite conscious of still needing to pee, but the pacing helped. She glanced at the cars parked all along the approach road, Eileen will be coming from that direction, please hurry.
Then the ambush came once again. She could feel the need rapidly building like a volcano. Need to go. Hard to hold. Oh oh not gonna be able to hold it very much longer. Just as she was on the verge of feeling her grip lose to the flow again, Jennette bounced high on her toes, actually jumped up. Up was good. Down was bad. Jennette's feet met the cobblestones with an easy springy rebound but the bowling ball bladder crashed down inside her with less elegance. But it was during its own subsequent upward bounce that the damage was done. Jennette could feel the pee coming out. She tried to locate reserves of clamping power but everything felt numb. Somewhere there were muscles that stop you from peeing, maybe on Mars or something, but she couldn't find them.
It started slow but then, like water in a stream bed that has just made a hole in a kid's handpacked dam, it seemed to dissolve the sides of her, pushing Jennette out of the way. Jennette slipped her hand between her legs and pushed against it momentarily. Can't. That's going to feel good, I can tell immediately, this is bad enough but I am not going to masturbate in public that's what it would be. Two dark lanes like airport landing strips were paving themselves down her thighs; the wetness darkened its way midway up her zipper and out towards her hips, blooming. The pressure pushed even more insistently for a moment, and with an audible hiss Jennette's pants began to glisten as new fast impatient pee rose up above the already-soaked cotton. Amazingly, all this while still trying to hold it, stop it, and even now feeling more of herself crumble away, loosening what remained of her grip. I can't stop it, I can't help it, Jennette observed, still finding this hard to believe.
Two teenage boys were obviously watching, pointing and talking to each other in an amused and somewhat derisive tone; a young girl of maybe ten or so was also obviously staring with great interest; and two or three people glanced, then glanced back to stare as they walked by, yet most of them kept walking, and the truly amazing thing was that so many people seemed inclined to ignore her.
It seemed to be continuing forever; just as it briefly felt like she was on the verge of regaining her grip (if only it would just slow down a little more), there was another one of those really determined pushes from inside and Jennette hissed and glistened again. She watched as the denim above her left pocket darkened faintly, then noticeably, spreading from in front where the darkness was rising to claim the snap. The hissing intensity slacked off, but a lesser stream kept running and running and running and she couldn't make it stop for what seemed like a very long time.
"Oh, wow!". Eileen had arrived, and managed to sound sympathetic and excited and compassionate and amused all at the same time. "C'mon, let's get you out of here." Walking awkwardly in wet pants, Jennette followed and slipped quickly into the car. "Thank god for vinyl seats. I can't believe this. Would you stop looking at me that way? This is not something I did for fun, I don't DO public shows. Oh god." Jennette's bladder now felt like a leftover party balloon, still inflated but shrunken with little shrivelled stretch marks
Eileen took a few turns and then came to a stop in a narrow alley. Jennette got out and started fumbling with the pee-soaked snap and zipper. Eileen quickly circled around and took her wrist. "Finish it here. They aren't going to get any drier if you pull them down." Her eyes danced with delight.
Jennette shook her head and started to say, "That's all right, I don't...", but Eileen swayed heavily against her and somehow Jennette ended with her back pressed against the brick wall and Eileen in front of her, hand held rigidly in front, digging into her, digging THERE. Nervelessly and with surprising force Jennette's crotch again hissed, and a glistening circle rose to the top. "That's it, honey, give me all of it", cooed Eileen, her voice slippery and naughty. She pushed, and the glistening circle expanded and then cascaded, with visible ripples of pee running down on the outside surface of the soaked jeans with a noisy trickling sound. Below her knees, where the jeans were less tight against her skin, Jennette could feel free streams running directly on her skin. Eileen took her other hand and began stroking the slick shiny denim, right there where the pee was coming through. "Oh no, don't..." Impossibly delicious, instantaneous arousal, somehow all mixed up in the whole experience of being out of control down there, wet down there...Jennette shuddered and started to slip down the wall as her knees began to give way. Eileen shoved hard with the pushing hand. Louder hissing and trickling. Puddles at her feet. Rubbing and stroking. Every time Eileen's finger passed over the pee geyser, Jennette felt the pressure of her own flow against her clit, rinsing away all resistance. "You're melting me", she murmured in pretend-whine. "I'm turning into a big puddle." Peeing and stroking. Right on the wet slick flowing slippery edge, and Eileen still pushing and my god I'm still peeing how is this possible? The trickle splash sound of the pee dripping out of the soaked fabric and landing in the expanding puddle. Eileen's finger, rubbing SO slippery SO sweet wet OH so good...Finally, she could feel it coming, just as she had been able to feel the approach of the moment when she was going to start wetting her pants, she could now feel the orgasm, scary in it helplessness-making intensity but irresistable and unstoppable, and then it had her and she melted indeed.
"You know", she said to Eileen (several minutes later), "this activity is what got me INTO this jam in the first place. Now tomorrow I'm going to be all weak and have trouble holding my pee again. This is NOT convenient, you know!"
"I guess not", replied Eileen, "but I think I like you this way. I think I'll take you out shopping tomorrow", she grinned.
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