This story is a little bit long, but 100% worth it. I found this on another female desperation site. Please Enjoy.
The wind whistled through Amber's hair as she drove her red convertible down the interstate; her long brunette hair flowing in the slipstream as the sun shone overhead, the blue sky clear that Saturday afternoon. The dial read 75, the speed limit sign read 60, but Amber kept on speeding, the traffic was light and the highway smooth. Grimacing, she pushed the pedal further, up to 80. She took a last sip from her quart of water, tossing the empty bottle into the passenger seat beside her. She clenched her legs together as best she could while she drove, her bladder swollen full with pee. Amber was desperate, her bladder sending SOS signals, her tummy swollen, her tight tan khaki slacks pressing against the fullness inside of her, shrieks of pressure pulsing through the 19 year old college sophomore's body as she clenched her muscles tight, clamping her urethra shut, trying not to think about the stinging sensation of pee dying to escape her tormented body.
A few miles more, and she'd be home, and did she ever need the bathroom, badly. Amber looked wistfully at the exit signs, wishing she had taken a pee back at lunch, wishing the bathroom hadn't have been closed for cleaning. She tried to take her mind off of her extreme need; she thought of the wonderful lunch, her friend Stacey had come into town for the afternoon and they had spent a good hour and a half, eating, drinking ice teas, sharing good memories from their earlier years. A fitness fanatic, Amber always drank water, and lots of it. Her size 3 body, all 5 feet and 5 inches of it with slender hips, a flat stomach, shapely, slightly muscular legs to die for, she had been quite popular during her high school days and during her freshmen year in college, but as her schedule got busier, she found less time to date, to many a guy's dismay. Her athletic and slightly smaller busted figure got looks; that was for sure. More than one car honked and stared as she passed car after car on the interstate, trying to drive faster without garnering attention, trying to get home before she urinated into her pants. Her urge increased, the pressure unyielding. Amber tightened her muscles again. Only a few more miles, the shopping center near her house lay ahead on the right.
Slowing down, she headed towards the exit. Her cell phone rang; luckily she was at the light, waiting to turn right when she heard it. With her legs clenched together, in extreme agony, her bladder pounding inside of her taut body, Amber answered, trying valiantly to hold back the pee swollen inside of her. "Hello?"
"Hi, Amber?"
"Yea, is this Laura?" Laura was her manager at the family restaurant she worked for part time.
"Hey, I'm glad I got you. We're really short on help. Victor went home sick and Lisa didn't show up again. I really need you to work tonight, can you help me out?"
"Uh, sure, but I don't have my uniform with me. No, wait, I've got tan slacks, but my shirt is back home." Amber wished the damned light would change; her body was on the verge of urinating right where she was, and she tried to hold it with more effort, her legs tight, and her breathing shallow. The light turned green. Finally. Amber almost wet her pants as she released her legs slightly and pressed down on the accelerator.
Laura answered. "Don't worry about the uniform, I've got a spare shirt somewhere. Just come on in right away, I need you bad. I'll make it up to you, I promise!"
Amber agreed, knowing she needed the night off for the concert next weekend and this would be perfect bargaining material. It never hurt when the general manager owed you one. "Ok, I'll be right over, I'm just a block away, anyway." Amber drove the block down the street, thinking work was closer than home and given how badly she needed to pee, she could use the bathroom before she completely wet herself in her new car. Another light, and Amber was squirming. Her bladder violently contracted and she almost peed into her slacks, barely holding on, the pee urge so extreme she trembled with fear. She hadn't had to pee so badly in ages. Finally. Green. She turned left into the parking lot, locked her car, and ran into the restaurant, her bladder screaming its last desperate signals, her need to pee at the peak of desperation. "Hi," Amber yelled, heading straight for the bathroom. "I gotta pee, I'll be out in a second!"
"Hold on", Laura yelled, "Here's your shirt. Change while you're in there." Amber stood for a second, her knees locked together, her body violently throbbing; pee inches from exploding out of her. Another few seconds was all she thought she could hold on. Laura got the shirt, and Amber grabbed it and ran to the ladies room, about to explode. She got in, and both stalls were busy. Two trickles of pee, the sound of someone else relieving him or herself not helping the situation. Amber stood there, almost crying, the pain of her desperation so intense, with her body somehow knowing how physically close she was to a toilet made it worse, she almost started peeing into her pants but managed at the last minute to squeeze ever harder, her fingers jammed into her pee hole, holding back the flow. Two flushing sounds, and Amber almost lost it again, violently shaking with desperation, on her very last stand, about to have an accident. Two young girls exited, glancing at Amber, giggling, obviously noticing how badly she needed to go, and went to wash their hands. Amber rushed into the right most stall, undoing her belt and sliding her tight tan slacks down her hips in one fluid motion. Racing against the agony inside of her, she quickly pulled her panties off, and before she was even fully seated, a quick jet of hot pee exploded out of her clenched urethra, followed by a brief pause and then a stream of hot thrashing pee gushed from her pee hole, unable to be contained by the struggling girl any longer. She sat there and sighed, pee screaming out of her swollen body, gushing noisily into the water of the bowl. She wondered if anyone outside the restroom could hear her go. One and a half minutes later, her pee stream dwindled down; a sense of relief came over Amber's face. She had miraculously avoided a major accident, seconds away from almost having peed into her pants. She sighed a breath of relief, wiped around her trimmed dark pubic mound and pulled up her panties and slacks. She changed into her uniform shirt, a little small for her, and headed out, but not before grabbing an extra large Coke for the evening. She needed some caffeine to get her in the working mood. It was 3:00 in the afternoon already, and the restaurant was packed.
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It was no wonder they needed her help. By 4pm they had already broken the sales record for that day and Amber had been running around like crazy. Fueled with constant caffeine, she somehow managed to handle her section, all seven tables of it. The tips were pretty good, she was averaging 25% of her sales, but she knew it would be a long night. Missing two servers and having another call in sick meant more work for the remaining crew, and probably not a lot of breaks for them either. The hostess, a pretty young high school senior named Isabelle who was quite popular with the cooks, came by with a party of 5. Amber approached the table. Families with screaming kids- she hated that. While the mom tried to settle down junior, she served them water and menus, introduced herself and grabbed an order of fajitas for Carlene, one of the other servers working. The busy pace kept Amber from realizing what had become a familiar sensation that day. The quart of water she had drank earlier along with the Coke she was sipping as she ran around made their way through her body, her bladder again slowly filling. By 4:30pm, Amber had to pee badly, the days drinking once again taking their toll on the athletic girl. Looking around, Amber saw Isabelle seat a party of 12 at two tables at the far end of her section. Wishing she could take a quick bathroom break to relieve herself, she had no choice but to head to the newly seated group. A coach, an assistant, and a small cheerleading squad, all dressed in their white and blue uniforms, giggling and carrying on. Amber knew one of the kitchen guys would love this; he had a fantasy about cheerleaders. Trying to put the thoughts of her filling bladder in the background of her mind, Amber started taking the tables' order. By the time she finished, five of the girls had changed their order and one of them didn't want anything, and then at the last minute decided she wanted a salad. A slightly tubby one, Amber thought, she probably wanted to lose weight and look like the other girls, who mostly were quite attractive. Amber keyed the order into the computer and glanced at the time. 4:45pm. She looked around, really needing a bathroom break, the familiar pressure returning, the slight beginnings of stinging inside her tummy that signaled a full bladder. She headed off to the bathroom, thinking she had a spare minute when the coach of the table called her back. "Yes," Amber asked, slightly frazzled, wishing she could have gone to the restroom.
"I'm so sorry. Sarah ordered Iced Tea and she wants to switch to water. I'm so sorry to trouble you, but could you get it for her now?" the coach asked, nicely.
"Sure, I'll be right back". Amber went to the drink station, now recognizing her body's need for urinary relief, her tummy slightly distended against the tight waistband of her low-rise tan slacks. As she was there, table #4 called out.
"Miss. Miss. Oh, I'm sorry, but my steak was supposed to be medium rare and it's well done. Can you see if the kitchen could do something about it?"
Amber walked by, putting on her best fake smile. "Sure, I'm so sorry. I'll be right back." She winced as she felt her bladder quickly filling. 5:00pm now, the dinner rush was starting, and she needed to use the bathroom quite badly now. She knew she'd have little chance of escaping if she didn't get there soon. Dinner was crazy and half the time the customers were lined up for the bathroom anyway. Getting the water and returning the steak to the kitchen, she stopped by table #4 and assured them they'd re-cook the steak, this time the right way. Back to the cheerleaders at table #7- handing the short girl that must have been Sarah the water, Amber turned around. Table #3 was waiting to check out. Good. The register was near the bathrooms; she'd get their ticket, take a quick bathroom break and then get back to work. A perfect plan. On the way to the computer, Table #4 signaled again. She backtracked; getting annoyed now, her bladder complaining, waves of pressure starting to flow through her body. She really needed to pee!! "Yes?"
"I'm sorry, but I ordered steak fries and this is obviously mashed potatoes!" The kitchen was overworked and screwing everything up today.
"I'm sorry. We're a bit understaffed today but I'll be happy to bring you fries," she said with a smile, wishing she could add "and you're probably going to make me pee my pants by your stupid requests," as she hurried back to the kitchen, plate in hand. Crap. She had forgotten to check out table #3, who was looking for her now. Table #4's steak was ready too. The coach at table #7 had his hand up. "Damn. DAMN," she muttered under her breath at nobody in particular.
Carlene was standing nearby, checking out one of her tables. "What's a matter?" she asked.
"I've got to pee so bad I'm about to bust and my tables are being a pain," Amber replied, wincing as she felt a surge of pressure expand through her. Her bladder was filling up near the limit; the same stinging sensations she had felt on the highway over returned, and very soon Amber was desperate, needing once again to use the bathroom very, very badly.
She checked table #3 out, and then got the steak for table #4, then wishing in vain she could go pee, she headed off to table #7. The coach again- "I'm sorry, but we're kind of in a rush. Could you tell me when the food is going to be ready?"
"I'm sorry for the delay, sir, but I'll go ask the kitchen and find out. Be right back," she smiled, putting on her best server smile. Her bladder screaming inside of her, she walked quickly by the hallway leading to the bathrooms, almost stopping, but thought she could get a quick break after she took care of pain in the ass coach. The kitchen just delivered the food for table #7, so she balanced as much of it as she could, Carlene helping with the rest, and the two walked back to the table of cheerleaders, who quickly dived into their meals. Even the coach, for once, seemed happy. "God, I need to go pee or I'm going to wet on myself!!!!!" Amber whispered to Carlene.
"Yea, I know, I'm about to pee in my pants too. I get a break in five minutes though," Carlene replied, whisking off to another table.
Looking around, Amber realized for a moment that nobody needed her. Table #5 looked about ready to leave, but they could wait, and she really, really needed to use the restroom before something embarrassing happened. Walking quickly to the bathroom, she got to the hallway. Of course, as it always happened, three of the cheerleaders were outside the door, squirming, looking desperate. A line. Just then Amber heard table #5 call her name. "Damn Damn DAMN!" she cursed a little louder than she should have- stupid line for the bathroom. She walked down to table #5, only to be stopped at table #3, who had not left yet.
"Miss, There's been a mistake on our check. My husband got charged for two coffees and he only drank one." Amber smiled, picked up the check and apologized, trying not to show her anger. If she JUST could get to the fricking bathroom, she thought. Her bladder pulsated inside of her, wave after wave of pressure spasms appearing every few minutes, her urine filling and stretching her bladder worse than ever before. Amber was getting nervous, her tummy visibly stuck out, the waistband of her slacks biting into her skin, her urethra tense, her desire to void so strong she feared she would have an accident any minute. Table #5. Yes.
"Yes, are you guys ready to check out now?" she asked, trembling as she dealt with a huge onslaught of stinging pain that emerged from inside of her, her bladder once again signaling "Emergency, Emergency." Amber really had to pee, the pressure now as bad as when she had driven into the parking lot. Right after table #5 cashed out, she thought, and then she could go relieve herself. "Shouldn't have drank so much water, damn it," she thought, squirming as she cashed out table #5 at the register. She glanced over at the bathrooms- no line. "Great," she said out loud, again to nobody in particular. She walked quickly back to table #5, handed them their change. They smiled, left a nice tip, and left. She looked around. A break, she thought. Carlene came down out of the bathrooms, headed to her own section. Amber bumped into her.
"Wow, that was close," Carlene whispered, giggling.
"What?" Amber asked, wondering what happened.
"I almost peed myself! I mean, I couldn't hold it and just got in there in time. Can you imagine how embarrass..." CRASH. A loud explosion-like sound rocked through the restaurant. Carlene dropped her tray in surprise, both girls turning around to look at the direction where the noise came from.
"What the hell?" Amber asked.
"I don't know. What's going on?" Carlene and Amber headed down the hallway near the bathrooms, Ambers intense desperation increasing, so she was headed that way anyway. "Oh my God," Carlene gasped. Water was pouring out between the two bathrooms, a crack in the wall had appeared.
Laura, the GM was over there next. "Oh Shit!"
"What?" the girls replied in unison, Amber about to pee on herself in agony.
"The water main just blew. I was supposed to have it repaired last week, but they couldn't come out until tomorrow."
"What?"
"Damn. Carlene, go call our maintenance emergency number, tell them we lost the water main and both bathrooms are flooded, and tell them to get over here quick," Laura ordered.
Amber froze. She had to know. "Did, uh, did you say both bathrooms are closed?" her voice squeaking higher in paranoia. She needed to use the bathroom as badly as she ever had in her life, easily as badly as she had earlier that day, and if the bathrooms were out of order...
"Yea, and we'll have to shut down if we can't get then open in an hour. Health violation. Maintenance should get here pretty quick though, shouldn't be a problem. What a mess though- I'm going to lock the doors so nobody goes in the restrooms until we fix this," and Laura went off, locking both doors, her shoes and the bottom of her slacks soaked in water from the broken water main. Amber started to shake. She was on the verge of wetting herself, barely able to control the pulsating pressure inside of her struggling body. She NEEDED to use the bathroom SO badly.
"Oh God. Oh GOD," she cried, clenching her legs together. Carlene came back.
"The maintenance guys are on their way. Amber, are you alright?"
"Carlene, I really need to pee. I'm serious, I'm about to pee on myself and now the bathrooms are closed!!!" Amber wailed, totally desperate and in panic, her intense desperation reaching new moments of pain, her urethra seemingly burning, her tummy completely distended, the stinging pain coming in spasms, her body clenched, keeping her ocean of pee inside.
"Don't worry, they'll be here soon and you can go. Just hold it, like we had to in track last year," Carlene said, trying to reassure her friend. Amber grimaced, and standing there with her legs locked together, she tried to hold on, barely able to control the tremendous urge that was overcoming her.
"Miss..." table #7 again. The Coach. Amber turned around, wiped off the sweat that was forming on her forehead from her agonizing distress, and walked carefully, trying not to pee in her clothes, down to table #7.
"Yes?" she warbled, her voice distorted as she fought off a violent surge that almost caused her to uncontrollably release her hot urine into her clothes.
"We've been wanting to check out for the past five minutes. And Melissa here needs to go to the bathroom, can you tell me why you've got it locked?" Melissa looked to be the oldest one, a senior, and her hands were clutched up her cheerleading skirt; her face agonized with pain, obviously needing to go pee as well.
"I'm sorry sir, but we've had a water main break, and the bathrooms won't be open for another half hour at the earliest," Amber replied, dying inside as she totally knew what the poor cheerleader was going through.
"Whwhwhhaatt?" the high school senior cried, obviously in the worst desperation.
"She said they are closed, dear. You're 18 years old, not some little girl. Hold it and go when we get back to the gym," the coach replied.
"IiiII can't, oh God," screamed the girl, her face red with embarrassment and anguish. "Oh noooNOOOOO," the girl wailed, and Amber froze as she glanced down. The girl stood there, legs together, her skirt held up, her hands trembling as she tried to hold the cheerleading skirt out of the way, in a panic, and Amber saw the girls blue cheerleading trunks suddenly darken, a stain spreading, the girls public mound obvious as the tightness of the lycra fabric hugged her engorged girlhood, wetness escaping. Slight pee streams trickled down the girl's muscular legs, increasing in strength until the girl suddenly peed uncontrollably into her cheerleading outfit, a loud sizzling noise coming from between her legs. The girl spread her legs, embarrassed, crying, letting her skirt drop. Pee gushed from the 18 year old, streaming down onto the floor, a puddle between her legs, her cheerleading shoes wet, her bare thighs glistening with her own urine. Amber almost peed onto herself then and there; the sight of another girl having an accident in front of her reminded her how BADLY she needed to go. She HAD to hold on. She felt so sorry for the poor girl who stood there, pee dripping from her, embarrassed in front of 9 of her friends and her coaches, having just wet herself at an age when that wasn't supposed to happen. Carlene walked over and gasped in horror, seeing the puddle between the cheerleader's legs. She ran back to the kitchen and grabbed a mop. Amber fought another wave of pressure, realizing now the emergency desperation SHE faced, and cashed the coach and his table out. The other cheerleaders were consoling the poor girl, who was still crying and sobbing uncontrollably as droplets of pee dropped from her body along the floor out of the restaurant.
"MMMMM," Amber moaned, bending over part way, trying to keep her pee inside. Her body DESPERATELY wanted to urinate, and seeing the girl's accident made it so much worse. Amber knew she was going to lose control if she didn't take drastic action. Maybe she could go in a cup outside in the parking lot. That might do it, she thought. She headed back to the kitchen when Isabelle seated Table #6 with an attractive young woman, maybe in her mid 20's, dark auburn hair and freckles, wearing a pair of black leggings, low-rise, riding her hips. A black sports bra on top and a purse, the woman had obviously been working out or something. Table #5 was seated too, with a pair of teenage girls, giggling as they talked about their dates later that night with their boyfriends. "Crap," Amber thought, "double seated," she thought, angry that Isabelle had sat two tables. Her bladder violently throbbing, almost leaking, Amber gave menus and water to the two girls, then made her way to Table #6. The young woman was very attractive, and looked at Amber in a funny way. "Hi. My name is Amber, and I'll be your server tonight. Here's the menu and would you like something to drink to start off with?" Amber asked, with her practiced approach. Amber stood there, her thighs shaking, beads of sweat forming on her forehead again. A tremendous wave of pee pressure overcame the poor server, almost causing an immediate release. The burning, stinging pain overcame her and Amber almost fainted from the pain, her vision going blurry, and her eyes tearing up. She needed to PEE!!!!!!!.
Somehow she recovered, her legs shaking, she waited as the woman ordered a large ice tea and a large glass of water. Amber walked over to the two girls, ready to get their order. Then it would be a quick trip to the parking lot. She didn't care if she had to squat next to her car; she needed to pee before she wet herself in front of everyone. She stood there, shaking, her legs pressed together, one hand trying to massage herself as she walked over. Amber almost leaked into her panties, but managed to hold back, the urge to pee insane, the pain constant. What had been waves of pressure now was a steady spasm, every step, every breath, and even every blink of the eye hurt. Amber was at the very last stages of holding on, and she knew it. If she didn't go outside or something within the next few minutes, she knew she'd be having an accident in her pants just like the pretty cheerleader, who had soaked herself in front of her friends. Amber cursed under her breath. The two teens were playing around, laughing. Finally they gave their order, and Amber started to head back to the kitchen when the woman at table #6 called her back. Amber could barely hold on. She was shaking uncontrollably, her body on the verge of explosion, her urethra tortured, her pubic area swollen with distress, her hot pee screaming inside of her, DYING to escape. "YES?" she mumbled, trying valiantly to hold on, to maintain dignity.
"I'm ready to order," the woman replied, putting down her menu. She stared at Amber, her legs pressed together, her feet pacing back and forth nervously, suddenly aware of Ambers incredible distress. "Are you okay?" the woman asked.
"Um. I just need to use the- the bathroom really bad, we had a water break or something and the bathrooms are closed, that's all," she mumbled, running together her words as her bladder surged incessantly within her, her slacks pressing tight against her pulsing belly, her pee about to explode out of her pee hole.
"The bathroom is closed?" the woman said in a shock, clutching her legs together, the black fabric of her tights defining her long muscles.
"Yea, but, but it should be open in like a half an hour," Amber mumbled, trying not to wet herself there.
"Oh my God, I really needed to go. I'm about to burst myself. And I just finished this water. Please tell me when they're open, okay?" the woman asked, some concern rising in her voice.
"Sure. Yea. So, what would you like?" Amber asked, somehow controlling herself. She'd put the order in, then run out to the parking lot and pee. Anywhere. She knew she was going to start going any second, and the time was now. She could not hold on any longer.
"I'd like the chef's salad, honey-mustard dressing," Amber clutched herself in pain, the last wave of pressure screaming inside of her. She momentarily lost control, and for the briefest part of a second, a little of her pee slipped out of her pee hole, a small spurt. Amber panicked, clutching her muscles tighter, taking her hand away from her crotch, in total and absolute desperation. "...and I'd like the Fajitas, no sour cream please," the woman continued. Amber was in panic.
"Uhm. The chicken salad and Italian?"
"No, the chefs salad, honey-mustard dressing..." Amber froze again, another small spurt escaping her tortured pee hole. The woman looked down, her eyes only two feet from Ambers slacks, and the three-inch wet spot in Amber's crotch was clearly noticeable. Amber didn't even realize she was visibly wet, barely able to contain the ocean inside of her, the pain intense, cutting through her like a knife, the waves of pressure constant, the burning inside beyond anything she had experienced, unable to control the spurts. Amber was slowly losing control, and she knew it.
"I'm sorry- the chef's salad then. I'm so sorry, I really am about to burst," she apologized, and started to walk away. Another spurt and Amber froze, trying to control herself. She COULD NOT pee herself here, NO, not NOW. She looked down, panicking when she saw the obvious wet spot in her tan slacks, tightly pressed against her engorged girlhood, her body racked with pain, needing to pee, starting to pee. She took a fast step and started to head out the door to the parking lot, to relieve herself the rest of the way and then get an apron to hide the wet spot in her slacks. Another small spurt- Amber panicked. The woman in table #6 called her. Amber turned around, tears in her eyes. She felt a small trickle of pee escape and a thin line of pee stain ran down her left thigh.
The woman looked straight at Amber's crotch, and giggled. "Wow, you really DO need to go to the bathroom, don't you?"
"Yes, I really need to go now, do you nnneed any-anything?" Amber mumbled again, jumbling and mixing her words. Another spurt, another small trickle of pee escaped her clenched burning pee hole, making the damp mark down her left thigh longer and darker. Amber was starting to pee on herself, and she knew it.
The woman kept looking; transfixed, watching Amber struggle to control herself. "Oh, I really do need another iced tea. I'm so sorry. Do you know you've got a wet spot on your pants?" the woman asked, shifting her weight on her chair. Amber couldn't understand her. The last spurt almost ruined her. The intense stinging pain rose to a crescendo, the pressure unbearable. Amber began to slowly pee, and she started to walk away. The woman called her back. "Honey, come back for a moment." Amber was peeing slowly now, she couldn't control the flow and her left thigh was getting slowly darker. Her warm pee was seeping out of her clenched pee hole, against all of Amber's might.
Amber turned, crying, shaking, and started wailing. "Oh I'm sorry. Oh NO. NOOO. Oh GODDDD NOOOOOOOO. NOOOO PLEASEEEEE NOOOOO," her voice rising both in volume and in pitch. Three feet away from the woman in table #6's eyes Amber lost control. The intense pain was too much, her weakened crotch muscles, the throbbing the pulsating sensation overcame her. A spurt escaped, and suddenly without any warning Amber could no longer control her bladder's urges. Her bladder exploded, pee thrashing out of her pee hole, flooding her panties, instantly wetting her pants. Her crotch and inner left thigh were soaked within a second, pee streaming seemingly by the gallon out of her crotch, gushing stream after gushing stream bursting from within, soaking her panties, soaking her pants. The pee streams soaked her tight tan slacks, the pee flooding down her legs glistening in the light as Amber totally wet herself in front of her customer, frozen in terror, unable to move. Pee kept coming. Her bladder pumped pee through her urethra, like a fire hose on a burning house, pee exploding, thrashing, sizzling noisily out of her young athletic body, flooding her clothes, the coarse fabric of her tan slacks unable to hold any more moisture, pee cascaded in sheets between her legs, flooding her inner thigh and trickling into her socks, her shoes, and onto the hardwood floor. Amber went to the bathroom into her pants, right there, in front of everyone, for a minute and forty seconds. Pure agony.
The two girls behind her giggled, whispering to each other "oh my God, she's peeing her pants right here!!!" The woman in table #6 looked in amazement, her eyes locked onto the spreading wetness of Amber's crotch.
Amber sobbed without stopping, looking up sheepishly when her pee stream finally died down. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Oh my God, I'm so sorry..." she cried, looking to the woman for forgiveness as her wet pants clung to her legs, her shoes standing in a four foot wide puddle of her own hot pee. Across the restaurant, the maintenance crew arrived and started working on the water main and the bathrooms. It was too late for Amber- she had just had the most embarrassing accident in her life, peeing in front of her customers. Carlene came around the corner and gasped, seeing Amber's soaked pants and the puddle on the floor. Amber cried and ran out the door, not even saying goodbye to Carlene or even bothering to put in the two tables' orders. Carlene turned around, watching Amber run out the door, wondering what to do.
Neither server saw the woman in table #6 urinate, on purpose, into her black leggings, pee dripping onto the floor and spreading all over the chair where she sat. The woman had a smile on her face as she put her fingers between her legs, feeling her pee explode into her leggings, the familiar warmth flooding her seat and her butt. She smiled, and then left quickly, pee running down the seams of her leggings as she walked out of the restaurant, leaving a five-dollar bill to pay for the drinks.
Amber sat in her car, her pants soaked, her seats soaked, and cried uncontrollably, unable to stop
The wind whistled through Amber's hair as she drove her red convertible down the interstate; her long brunette hair flowing in the slipstream as the sun shone overhead, the blue sky clear that Saturday afternoon. The dial read 75, the speed limit sign read 60, but Amber kept on speeding, the traffic was light and the highway smooth. Grimacing, she pushed the pedal further, up to 80. She took a last sip from her quart of water, tossing the empty bottle into the passenger seat beside her. She clenched her legs together as best she could while she drove, her bladder swollen full with pee. Amber was desperate, her bladder sending SOS signals, her tummy swollen, her tight tan khaki slacks pressing against the fullness inside of her, shrieks of pressure pulsing through the 19 year old college sophomore's body as she clenched her muscles tight, clamping her urethra shut, trying not to think about the stinging sensation of pee dying to escape her tormented body.
A few miles more, and she'd be home, and did she ever need the bathroom, badly. Amber looked wistfully at the exit signs, wishing she had taken a pee back at lunch, wishing the bathroom hadn't have been closed for cleaning. She tried to take her mind off of her extreme need; she thought of the wonderful lunch, her friend Stacey had come into town for the afternoon and they had spent a good hour and a half, eating, drinking ice teas, sharing good memories from their earlier years. A fitness fanatic, Amber always drank water, and lots of it. Her size 3 body, all 5 feet and 5 inches of it with slender hips, a flat stomach, shapely, slightly muscular legs to die for, she had been quite popular during her high school days and during her freshmen year in college, but as her schedule got busier, she found less time to date, to many a guy's dismay. Her athletic and slightly smaller busted figure got looks; that was for sure. More than one car honked and stared as she passed car after car on the interstate, trying to drive faster without garnering attention, trying to get home before she urinated into her pants. Her urge increased, the pressure unyielding. Amber tightened her muscles again. Only a few more miles, the shopping center near her house lay ahead on the right.
Slowing down, she headed towards the exit. Her cell phone rang; luckily she was at the light, waiting to turn right when she heard it. With her legs clenched together, in extreme agony, her bladder pounding inside of her taut body, Amber answered, trying valiantly to hold back the pee swollen inside of her. "Hello?"
"Hi, Amber?"
"Yea, is this Laura?" Laura was her manager at the family restaurant she worked for part time.
"Hey, I'm glad I got you. We're really short on help. Victor went home sick and Lisa didn't show up again. I really need you to work tonight, can you help me out?"
"Uh, sure, but I don't have my uniform with me. No, wait, I've got tan slacks, but my shirt is back home." Amber wished the damned light would change; her body was on the verge of urinating right where she was, and she tried to hold it with more effort, her legs tight, and her breathing shallow. The light turned green. Finally. Amber almost wet her pants as she released her legs slightly and pressed down on the accelerator.
Laura answered. "Don't worry about the uniform, I've got a spare shirt somewhere. Just come on in right away, I need you bad. I'll make it up to you, I promise!"
Amber agreed, knowing she needed the night off for the concert next weekend and this would be perfect bargaining material. It never hurt when the general manager owed you one. "Ok, I'll be right over, I'm just a block away, anyway." Amber drove the block down the street, thinking work was closer than home and given how badly she needed to pee, she could use the bathroom before she completely wet herself in her new car. Another light, and Amber was squirming. Her bladder violently contracted and she almost peed into her slacks, barely holding on, the pee urge so extreme she trembled with fear. She hadn't had to pee so badly in ages. Finally. Green. She turned left into the parking lot, locked her car, and ran into the restaurant, her bladder screaming its last desperate signals, her need to pee at the peak of desperation. "Hi," Amber yelled, heading straight for the bathroom. "I gotta pee, I'll be out in a second!"
"Hold on", Laura yelled, "Here's your shirt. Change while you're in there." Amber stood for a second, her knees locked together, her body violently throbbing; pee inches from exploding out of her. Another few seconds was all she thought she could hold on. Laura got the shirt, and Amber grabbed it and ran to the ladies room, about to explode. She got in, and both stalls were busy. Two trickles of pee, the sound of someone else relieving him or herself not helping the situation. Amber stood there, almost crying, the pain of her desperation so intense, with her body somehow knowing how physically close she was to a toilet made it worse, she almost started peeing into her pants but managed at the last minute to squeeze ever harder, her fingers jammed into her pee hole, holding back the flow. Two flushing sounds, and Amber almost lost it again, violently shaking with desperation, on her very last stand, about to have an accident. Two young girls exited, glancing at Amber, giggling, obviously noticing how badly she needed to go, and went to wash their hands. Amber rushed into the right most stall, undoing her belt and sliding her tight tan slacks down her hips in one fluid motion. Racing against the agony inside of her, she quickly pulled her panties off, and before she was even fully seated, a quick jet of hot pee exploded out of her clenched urethra, followed by a brief pause and then a stream of hot thrashing pee gushed from her pee hole, unable to be contained by the struggling girl any longer. She sat there and sighed, pee screaming out of her swollen body, gushing noisily into the water of the bowl. She wondered if anyone outside the restroom could hear her go. One and a half minutes later, her pee stream dwindled down; a sense of relief came over Amber's face. She had miraculously avoided a major accident, seconds away from almost having peed into her pants. She sighed a breath of relief, wiped around her trimmed dark pubic mound and pulled up her panties and slacks. She changed into her uniform shirt, a little small for her, and headed out, but not before grabbing an extra large Coke for the evening. She needed some caffeine to get her in the working mood. It was 3:00 in the afternoon already, and the restaurant was packed.
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It was no wonder they needed her help. By 4pm they had already broken the sales record for that day and Amber had been running around like crazy. Fueled with constant caffeine, she somehow managed to handle her section, all seven tables of it. The tips were pretty good, she was averaging 25% of her sales, but she knew it would be a long night. Missing two servers and having another call in sick meant more work for the remaining crew, and probably not a lot of breaks for them either. The hostess, a pretty young high school senior named Isabelle who was quite popular with the cooks, came by with a party of 5. Amber approached the table. Families with screaming kids- she hated that. While the mom tried to settle down junior, she served them water and menus, introduced herself and grabbed an order of fajitas for Carlene, one of the other servers working. The busy pace kept Amber from realizing what had become a familiar sensation that day. The quart of water she had drank earlier along with the Coke she was sipping as she ran around made their way through her body, her bladder again slowly filling. By 4:30pm, Amber had to pee badly, the days drinking once again taking their toll on the athletic girl. Looking around, Amber saw Isabelle seat a party of 12 at two tables at the far end of her section. Wishing she could take a quick bathroom break to relieve herself, she had no choice but to head to the newly seated group. A coach, an assistant, and a small cheerleading squad, all dressed in their white and blue uniforms, giggling and carrying on. Amber knew one of the kitchen guys would love this; he had a fantasy about cheerleaders. Trying to put the thoughts of her filling bladder in the background of her mind, Amber started taking the tables' order. By the time she finished, five of the girls had changed their order and one of them didn't want anything, and then at the last minute decided she wanted a salad. A slightly tubby one, Amber thought, she probably wanted to lose weight and look like the other girls, who mostly were quite attractive. Amber keyed the order into the computer and glanced at the time. 4:45pm. She looked around, really needing a bathroom break, the familiar pressure returning, the slight beginnings of stinging inside her tummy that signaled a full bladder. She headed off to the bathroom, thinking she had a spare minute when the coach of the table called her back. "Yes," Amber asked, slightly frazzled, wishing she could have gone to the restroom.
"I'm so sorry. Sarah ordered Iced Tea and she wants to switch to water. I'm so sorry to trouble you, but could you get it for her now?" the coach asked, nicely.
"Sure, I'll be right back". Amber went to the drink station, now recognizing her body's need for urinary relief, her tummy slightly distended against the tight waistband of her low-rise tan slacks. As she was there, table #4 called out.
"Miss. Miss. Oh, I'm sorry, but my steak was supposed to be medium rare and it's well done. Can you see if the kitchen could do something about it?"
Amber walked by, putting on her best fake smile. "Sure, I'm so sorry. I'll be right back." She winced as she felt her bladder quickly filling. 5:00pm now, the dinner rush was starting, and she needed to use the bathroom quite badly now. She knew she'd have little chance of escaping if she didn't get there soon. Dinner was crazy and half the time the customers were lined up for the bathroom anyway. Getting the water and returning the steak to the kitchen, she stopped by table #4 and assured them they'd re-cook the steak, this time the right way. Back to the cheerleaders at table #7- handing the short girl that must have been Sarah the water, Amber turned around. Table #3 was waiting to check out. Good. The register was near the bathrooms; she'd get their ticket, take a quick bathroom break and then get back to work. A perfect plan. On the way to the computer, Table #4 signaled again. She backtracked; getting annoyed now, her bladder complaining, waves of pressure starting to flow through her body. She really needed to pee!! "Yes?"
"I'm sorry, but I ordered steak fries and this is obviously mashed potatoes!" The kitchen was overworked and screwing everything up today.
"I'm sorry. We're a bit understaffed today but I'll be happy to bring you fries," she said with a smile, wishing she could add "and you're probably going to make me pee my pants by your stupid requests," as she hurried back to the kitchen, plate in hand. Crap. She had forgotten to check out table #3, who was looking for her now. Table #4's steak was ready too. The coach at table #7 had his hand up. "Damn. DAMN," she muttered under her breath at nobody in particular.
Carlene was standing nearby, checking out one of her tables. "What's a matter?" she asked.
"I've got to pee so bad I'm about to bust and my tables are being a pain," Amber replied, wincing as she felt a surge of pressure expand through her. Her bladder was filling up near the limit; the same stinging sensations she had felt on the highway over returned, and very soon Amber was desperate, needing once again to use the bathroom very, very badly.
She checked table #3 out, and then got the steak for table #4, then wishing in vain she could go pee, she headed off to table #7. The coach again- "I'm sorry, but we're kind of in a rush. Could you tell me when the food is going to be ready?"
"I'm sorry for the delay, sir, but I'll go ask the kitchen and find out. Be right back," she smiled, putting on her best server smile. Her bladder screaming inside of her, she walked quickly by the hallway leading to the bathrooms, almost stopping, but thought she could get a quick break after she took care of pain in the ass coach. The kitchen just delivered the food for table #7, so she balanced as much of it as she could, Carlene helping with the rest, and the two walked back to the table of cheerleaders, who quickly dived into their meals. Even the coach, for once, seemed happy. "God, I need to go pee or I'm going to wet on myself!!!!!" Amber whispered to Carlene.
"Yea, I know, I'm about to pee in my pants too. I get a break in five minutes though," Carlene replied, whisking off to another table.
Looking around, Amber realized for a moment that nobody needed her. Table #5 looked about ready to leave, but they could wait, and she really, really needed to use the restroom before something embarrassing happened. Walking quickly to the bathroom, she got to the hallway. Of course, as it always happened, three of the cheerleaders were outside the door, squirming, looking desperate. A line. Just then Amber heard table #5 call her name. "Damn Damn DAMN!" she cursed a little louder than she should have- stupid line for the bathroom. She walked down to table #5, only to be stopped at table #3, who had not left yet.
"Miss, There's been a mistake on our check. My husband got charged for two coffees and he only drank one." Amber smiled, picked up the check and apologized, trying not to show her anger. If she JUST could get to the fricking bathroom, she thought. Her bladder pulsated inside of her, wave after wave of pressure spasms appearing every few minutes, her urine filling and stretching her bladder worse than ever before. Amber was getting nervous, her tummy visibly stuck out, the waistband of her slacks biting into her skin, her urethra tense, her desire to void so strong she feared she would have an accident any minute. Table #5. Yes.
"Yes, are you guys ready to check out now?" she asked, trembling as she dealt with a huge onslaught of stinging pain that emerged from inside of her, her bladder once again signaling "Emergency, Emergency." Amber really had to pee, the pressure now as bad as when she had driven into the parking lot. Right after table #5 cashed out, she thought, and then she could go relieve herself. "Shouldn't have drank so much water, damn it," she thought, squirming as she cashed out table #5 at the register. She glanced over at the bathrooms- no line. "Great," she said out loud, again to nobody in particular. She walked quickly back to table #5, handed them their change. They smiled, left a nice tip, and left. She looked around. A break, she thought. Carlene came down out of the bathrooms, headed to her own section. Amber bumped into her.
"Wow, that was close," Carlene whispered, giggling.
"What?" Amber asked, wondering what happened.
"I almost peed myself! I mean, I couldn't hold it and just got in there in time. Can you imagine how embarrass..." CRASH. A loud explosion-like sound rocked through the restaurant. Carlene dropped her tray in surprise, both girls turning around to look at the direction where the noise came from.
"What the hell?" Amber asked.
"I don't know. What's going on?" Carlene and Amber headed down the hallway near the bathrooms, Ambers intense desperation increasing, so she was headed that way anyway. "Oh my God," Carlene gasped. Water was pouring out between the two bathrooms, a crack in the wall had appeared.
Laura, the GM was over there next. "Oh Shit!"
"What?" the girls replied in unison, Amber about to pee on herself in agony.
"The water main just blew. I was supposed to have it repaired last week, but they couldn't come out until tomorrow."
"What?"
"Damn. Carlene, go call our maintenance emergency number, tell them we lost the water main and both bathrooms are flooded, and tell them to get over here quick," Laura ordered.
Amber froze. She had to know. "Did, uh, did you say both bathrooms are closed?" her voice squeaking higher in paranoia. She needed to use the bathroom as badly as she ever had in her life, easily as badly as she had earlier that day, and if the bathrooms were out of order...
"Yea, and we'll have to shut down if we can't get then open in an hour. Health violation. Maintenance should get here pretty quick though, shouldn't be a problem. What a mess though- I'm going to lock the doors so nobody goes in the restrooms until we fix this," and Laura went off, locking both doors, her shoes and the bottom of her slacks soaked in water from the broken water main. Amber started to shake. She was on the verge of wetting herself, barely able to control the pulsating pressure inside of her struggling body. She NEEDED to use the bathroom SO badly.
"Oh God. Oh GOD," she cried, clenching her legs together. Carlene came back.
"The maintenance guys are on their way. Amber, are you alright?"
"Carlene, I really need to pee. I'm serious, I'm about to pee on myself and now the bathrooms are closed!!!" Amber wailed, totally desperate and in panic, her intense desperation reaching new moments of pain, her urethra seemingly burning, her tummy completely distended, the stinging pain coming in spasms, her body clenched, keeping her ocean of pee inside.
"Don't worry, they'll be here soon and you can go. Just hold it, like we had to in track last year," Carlene said, trying to reassure her friend. Amber grimaced, and standing there with her legs locked together, she tried to hold on, barely able to control the tremendous urge that was overcoming her.
"Miss..." table #7 again. The Coach. Amber turned around, wiped off the sweat that was forming on her forehead from her agonizing distress, and walked carefully, trying not to pee in her clothes, down to table #7.
"Yes?" she warbled, her voice distorted as she fought off a violent surge that almost caused her to uncontrollably release her hot urine into her clothes.
"We've been wanting to check out for the past five minutes. And Melissa here needs to go to the bathroom, can you tell me why you've got it locked?" Melissa looked to be the oldest one, a senior, and her hands were clutched up her cheerleading skirt; her face agonized with pain, obviously needing to go pee as well.
"I'm sorry sir, but we've had a water main break, and the bathrooms won't be open for another half hour at the earliest," Amber replied, dying inside as she totally knew what the poor cheerleader was going through.
"Whwhwhhaatt?" the high school senior cried, obviously in the worst desperation.
"She said they are closed, dear. You're 18 years old, not some little girl. Hold it and go when we get back to the gym," the coach replied.
"IiiII can't, oh God," screamed the girl, her face red with embarrassment and anguish. "Oh noooNOOOOO," the girl wailed, and Amber froze as she glanced down. The girl stood there, legs together, her skirt held up, her hands trembling as she tried to hold the cheerleading skirt out of the way, in a panic, and Amber saw the girls blue cheerleading trunks suddenly darken, a stain spreading, the girls public mound obvious as the tightness of the lycra fabric hugged her engorged girlhood, wetness escaping. Slight pee streams trickled down the girl's muscular legs, increasing in strength until the girl suddenly peed uncontrollably into her cheerleading outfit, a loud sizzling noise coming from between her legs. The girl spread her legs, embarrassed, crying, letting her skirt drop. Pee gushed from the 18 year old, streaming down onto the floor, a puddle between her legs, her cheerleading shoes wet, her bare thighs glistening with her own urine. Amber almost peed onto herself then and there; the sight of another girl having an accident in front of her reminded her how BADLY she needed to go. She HAD to hold on. She felt so sorry for the poor girl who stood there, pee dripping from her, embarrassed in front of 9 of her friends and her coaches, having just wet herself at an age when that wasn't supposed to happen. Carlene walked over and gasped in horror, seeing the puddle between the cheerleader's legs. She ran back to the kitchen and grabbed a mop. Amber fought another wave of pressure, realizing now the emergency desperation SHE faced, and cashed the coach and his table out. The other cheerleaders were consoling the poor girl, who was still crying and sobbing uncontrollably as droplets of pee dropped from her body along the floor out of the restaurant.
"MMMMM," Amber moaned, bending over part way, trying to keep her pee inside. Her body DESPERATELY wanted to urinate, and seeing the girl's accident made it so much worse. Amber knew she was going to lose control if she didn't take drastic action. Maybe she could go in a cup outside in the parking lot. That might do it, she thought. She headed back to the kitchen when Isabelle seated Table #6 with an attractive young woman, maybe in her mid 20's, dark auburn hair and freckles, wearing a pair of black leggings, low-rise, riding her hips. A black sports bra on top and a purse, the woman had obviously been working out or something. Table #5 was seated too, with a pair of teenage girls, giggling as they talked about their dates later that night with their boyfriends. "Crap," Amber thought, "double seated," she thought, angry that Isabelle had sat two tables. Her bladder violently throbbing, almost leaking, Amber gave menus and water to the two girls, then made her way to Table #6. The young woman was very attractive, and looked at Amber in a funny way. "Hi. My name is Amber, and I'll be your server tonight. Here's the menu and would you like something to drink to start off with?" Amber asked, with her practiced approach. Amber stood there, her thighs shaking, beads of sweat forming on her forehead again. A tremendous wave of pee pressure overcame the poor server, almost causing an immediate release. The burning, stinging pain overcame her and Amber almost fainted from the pain, her vision going blurry, and her eyes tearing up. She needed to PEE!!!!!!!.
Somehow she recovered, her legs shaking, she waited as the woman ordered a large ice tea and a large glass of water. Amber walked over to the two girls, ready to get their order. Then it would be a quick trip to the parking lot. She didn't care if she had to squat next to her car; she needed to pee before she wet herself in front of everyone. She stood there, shaking, her legs pressed together, one hand trying to massage herself as she walked over. Amber almost leaked into her panties, but managed to hold back, the urge to pee insane, the pain constant. What had been waves of pressure now was a steady spasm, every step, every breath, and even every blink of the eye hurt. Amber was at the very last stages of holding on, and she knew it. If she didn't go outside or something within the next few minutes, she knew she'd be having an accident in her pants just like the pretty cheerleader, who had soaked herself in front of her friends. Amber cursed under her breath. The two teens were playing around, laughing. Finally they gave their order, and Amber started to head back to the kitchen when the woman at table #6 called her back. Amber could barely hold on. She was shaking uncontrollably, her body on the verge of explosion, her urethra tortured, her pubic area swollen with distress, her hot pee screaming inside of her, DYING to escape. "YES?" she mumbled, trying valiantly to hold on, to maintain dignity.
"I'm ready to order," the woman replied, putting down her menu. She stared at Amber, her legs pressed together, her feet pacing back and forth nervously, suddenly aware of Ambers incredible distress. "Are you okay?" the woman asked.
"Um. I just need to use the- the bathroom really bad, we had a water break or something and the bathrooms are closed, that's all," she mumbled, running together her words as her bladder surged incessantly within her, her slacks pressing tight against her pulsing belly, her pee about to explode out of her pee hole.
"The bathroom is closed?" the woman said in a shock, clutching her legs together, the black fabric of her tights defining her long muscles.
"Yea, but, but it should be open in like a half an hour," Amber mumbled, trying not to wet herself there.
"Oh my God, I really needed to go. I'm about to burst myself. And I just finished this water. Please tell me when they're open, okay?" the woman asked, some concern rising in her voice.
"Sure. Yea. So, what would you like?" Amber asked, somehow controlling herself. She'd put the order in, then run out to the parking lot and pee. Anywhere. She knew she was going to start going any second, and the time was now. She could not hold on any longer.
"I'd like the chef's salad, honey-mustard dressing," Amber clutched herself in pain, the last wave of pressure screaming inside of her. She momentarily lost control, and for the briefest part of a second, a little of her pee slipped out of her pee hole, a small spurt. Amber panicked, clutching her muscles tighter, taking her hand away from her crotch, in total and absolute desperation. "...and I'd like the Fajitas, no sour cream please," the woman continued. Amber was in panic.
"Uhm. The chicken salad and Italian?"
"No, the chefs salad, honey-mustard dressing..." Amber froze again, another small spurt escaping her tortured pee hole. The woman looked down, her eyes only two feet from Ambers slacks, and the three-inch wet spot in Amber's crotch was clearly noticeable. Amber didn't even realize she was visibly wet, barely able to contain the ocean inside of her, the pain intense, cutting through her like a knife, the waves of pressure constant, the burning inside beyond anything she had experienced, unable to control the spurts. Amber was slowly losing control, and she knew it.
"I'm sorry- the chef's salad then. I'm so sorry, I really am about to burst," she apologized, and started to walk away. Another spurt and Amber froze, trying to control herself. She COULD NOT pee herself here, NO, not NOW. She looked down, panicking when she saw the obvious wet spot in her tan slacks, tightly pressed against her engorged girlhood, her body racked with pain, needing to pee, starting to pee. She took a fast step and started to head out the door to the parking lot, to relieve herself the rest of the way and then get an apron to hide the wet spot in her slacks. Another small spurt- Amber panicked. The woman in table #6 called her. Amber turned around, tears in her eyes. She felt a small trickle of pee escape and a thin line of pee stain ran down her left thigh.
The woman looked straight at Amber's crotch, and giggled. "Wow, you really DO need to go to the bathroom, don't you?"
"Yes, I really need to go now, do you nnneed any-anything?" Amber mumbled again, jumbling and mixing her words. Another spurt, another small trickle of pee escaped her clenched burning pee hole, making the damp mark down her left thigh longer and darker. Amber was starting to pee on herself, and she knew it.
The woman kept looking; transfixed, watching Amber struggle to control herself. "Oh, I really do need another iced tea. I'm so sorry. Do you know you've got a wet spot on your pants?" the woman asked, shifting her weight on her chair. Amber couldn't understand her. The last spurt almost ruined her. The intense stinging pain rose to a crescendo, the pressure unbearable. Amber began to slowly pee, and she started to walk away. The woman called her back. "Honey, come back for a moment." Amber was peeing slowly now, she couldn't control the flow and her left thigh was getting slowly darker. Her warm pee was seeping out of her clenched pee hole, against all of Amber's might.
Amber turned, crying, shaking, and started wailing. "Oh I'm sorry. Oh NO. NOOO. Oh GODDDD NOOOOOOOO. NOOOO PLEASEEEEE NOOOOO," her voice rising both in volume and in pitch. Three feet away from the woman in table #6's eyes Amber lost control. The intense pain was too much, her weakened crotch muscles, the throbbing the pulsating sensation overcame her. A spurt escaped, and suddenly without any warning Amber could no longer control her bladder's urges. Her bladder exploded, pee thrashing out of her pee hole, flooding her panties, instantly wetting her pants. Her crotch and inner left thigh were soaked within a second, pee streaming seemingly by the gallon out of her crotch, gushing stream after gushing stream bursting from within, soaking her panties, soaking her pants. The pee streams soaked her tight tan slacks, the pee flooding down her legs glistening in the light as Amber totally wet herself in front of her customer, frozen in terror, unable to move. Pee kept coming. Her bladder pumped pee through her urethra, like a fire hose on a burning house, pee exploding, thrashing, sizzling noisily out of her young athletic body, flooding her clothes, the coarse fabric of her tan slacks unable to hold any more moisture, pee cascaded in sheets between her legs, flooding her inner thigh and trickling into her socks, her shoes, and onto the hardwood floor. Amber went to the bathroom into her pants, right there, in front of everyone, for a minute and forty seconds. Pure agony.
The two girls behind her giggled, whispering to each other "oh my God, she's peeing her pants right here!!!" The woman in table #6 looked in amazement, her eyes locked onto the spreading wetness of Amber's crotch.
Amber sobbed without stopping, looking up sheepishly when her pee stream finally died down. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Oh my God, I'm so sorry..." she cried, looking to the woman for forgiveness as her wet pants clung to her legs, her shoes standing in a four foot wide puddle of her own hot pee. Across the restaurant, the maintenance crew arrived and started working on the water main and the bathrooms. It was too late for Amber- she had just had the most embarrassing accident in her life, peeing in front of her customers. Carlene came around the corner and gasped, seeing Amber's soaked pants and the puddle on the floor. Amber cried and ran out the door, not even saying goodbye to Carlene or even bothering to put in the two tables' orders. Carlene turned around, watching Amber run out the door, wondering what to do.
Neither server saw the woman in table #6 urinate, on purpose, into her black leggings, pee dripping onto the floor and spreading all over the chair where she sat. The woman had a smile on her face as she put her fingers between her legs, feeling her pee explode into her leggings, the familiar warmth flooding her seat and her butt. She smiled, and then left quickly, pee running down the seams of her leggings as she walked out of the restaurant, leaving a five-dollar bill to pay for the drinks.
Amber sat in her car, her pants soaked, her seats soaked, and cried uncontrollably, unable to stop
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