Hello there. I’ve been a fan of ‘accidents’ for some time now, and
never pass up a chance to steer a situation towards a possible problem.
This happened to me with a girlfriend of mine I was seeing at the tender
age of twenty-five. She was twenty-four at the time, and we had been going
strong for about three weeks, although I’d known her since schooldays. Her
name was Sam, and we got on like a house on fire in bed, though we hadn’t
really explored anything other than what I’d call ‘normal’ sex yet. There
was a good foundation, though, with lots of enthusiasm and openness on
both sides. I certainly hadn’t yet broached the subject of what really
turns me on: a desperate situation or actual accident.
Anyway, one Saturday we had planned to go to the local town to get
some shopping, and I picked her up at her flat at about noon. I had
mentioned lunch when we arranged it, so we stopped a couple of miles out
of town for something to eat in a pub. This only took us about half an
hour, just a quick sandwich, and all she had to drink was a half pint of
lager and lime to my pint. Towards the end of our drinks, though, the
thought crossed my mind that perhaps if I rushed this last bit, and got
her out of the pub before she could think of using the ladies’ room,
something might develop. I always think it’s worth trying something like
this, even if it only prompts the lady concerned to ask you to find her a
toilet... at least it brings the subject up in conversation.
We were laughing and joking and really getting on well, and I picked
up my pint, drank the last two inches, put my arm around her shoulders and
said, ‘Come on, let's get this shopping done, I could do with the fresh air!’
There didn’t seem to be any thought at all in her mind to use the
ladies’ room, and I didn’t know whether to treat this as good news or bad.
Still, back we went to the car, and drove to the underground car park which
services the main shopping centre. There is a precinct above, and a main
square with more shops adjoining it, with most of the area being under
cover.
As we surfaced in the precinct I began to say ‘I wouldn’t mind going to
the bookshop first.’
Sam had actually started to speak at the same time, and as she pointed to
the other side of the mall I heard her say, ‘In a minute I’d better...’
before she realized I was talking.
I guessed she was pointing to the toilets, and was going to express her
need, but it was an excellent opportunity to ignore what she had said by
pretending not to have heard. I said nothing, and on we progressed to the
bookshop. We had different interests in the way of books, which allowed me
to stand browsing in a different part of the shop and observing her. She
started out fine, but after a while I could see she wasn’t comfortable
standing still, and after twenty minutes she had sidled over twice to see if I
was nearly finished. Of course, it suited me fine to have her wait, and I
didn’t hurry over my choices at all. It was now obvious that she couldn’t
concentrate at all on the books, and not wishing to make my intentions too
obvious, we went to pay for what we had bought. Sam reached the counter
first, and I watched carefully. Standing behind her I could see she had all of
her weight on one leg, and was obviously tensed, not wanting to jig around
at all in front of the salesman, yet very uncomfortable about standing so
still. She almost snatched her change from him, and didn’t wait for me
before heading for the door, turning and saying ‘See you out here...’
I saw her turn to the right of the shop, and go out of sight. I dreaded her
finding a toilet nearby, so I quickly paid, and headed for the door myself.
She was leaning on the wall next to the shop window. I burst outside and
headed off to the left, pretending to look for her, because I knew that the
precinct toilets were in the other direction. She must have seen me heading
off, because I heard her heels start to click on the concrete after me.
‘Paul...just a minute...you have no idea how much I need a loo right
now, I nearly burst in there!’ She shifted from one foot to the other, ‘I know
you want to go to the department store, but can I go over there first?’
She pointed back to the toilets... ‘It’s getting to be an emergency!’
‘Oh,’ I said, ’I didn’t realize... you’d be better off going into the store,
it’s nearer, come on!’
This, of course, was not the truth, and I knew the toilets in the
department store were on the fourth floor. It looked nearer, though, and she
knew she had to start walking soon, in any direction, to avoid looking
conspicuous with her dancing. We set off, and on entering the store were
presented with a large store plan in front of us. Glimpsing at it as we
passed, I remarked, ‘The luggage department is on the first floor, so if we
go up the escalator to there I can look for my bag while you get the
lift up to the fourth, where the toilets are.’
The escalator was straight ahead of us, and I think it was a relief to Sam
that she could walk up it, rather than stand still again in a lift. Anyway, she
made no comment, so I assumed she agreed with what I had said. My blood
was pounding by now, this was turning out to be much better than expected!
More luck came my way now, because as I thought, she didn’t really want to
go on without me, and as the lifts were the other side of the store, she
abruptly sat down on a stool in the luggage department, smiled up at me,
and said: ‘God, do me a favour, will you? Don’t hang around!’
By now I couldn’t concentrate either, and I thanked God I didn’t need to
go myself. I delayed my browsing as long as I could, until I thought from
her rocking to and fro that she would get up and run if I left it any longer.
I then announced that there was nothing I liked. ‘Good, then let’s get
out of here, I’m nearly wetting myself!’ she laughed nervously.
My heart started to race again with those words, and I hoped something
else would crop up to cause a delay. I, certainly, was out of ways to hold her
up any longer if I didn’t want it to be obvious what I was doing.
I had been in situations like this before, and it’s at about this point when
I thought she was going to make it after all, and I certainly started to get
ready for an anti-climax. Sam seemed more comfortable after a sit-down, and we
walked through various departments towards the lifts. As we got close, though,
she slowed slightly and performed a slight curtsey.
‘My God, it’s come back, I’m worse than before!’
There was no attempt at jocularity in her manner now, she was definitely
panicked! With a sinking feeling I saw that the lift was there and waiting
for us, and I started to wonder what the chances were of it breaking down or
something... anything to delay! There were two women and a man already
inside, and we got straight in. Just to drag things out I hesitated for a
moment before pressing the fourth floor button, and the man took the
opportunity to reach out and hit the button marked ‘Ground’! I could have
shaken his hand!
Sam almost gasped when she saw, and I tried to look as sympathetic as I
could. I shrugged my shoulders, but Sam went into a kind of tense stance,
gripping her handbag, her shoulders rigid. She was facing me, and the look
in her eyes spoke volumes about her predicament. Embarrassment and fear
were in them, and she looked at me imploringly. There was nothing I could
do though, and I glanced at the two women, who had stopped talking and
I’m sure had detected that something was amiss. Sam silently mouthed to
me, ‘Come on...come on...’
As the lift jolted to a halt she shot out, and I followed quickly to keep
pace. Straight out of the doors into the square she walked, and I asked her
where she was going. ‘Back to those toilets....’
She was quite upset with herself by now, (remember we didn’t know
each other that well yet), and I almost felt sorry for her. We had come out
of another exit, though, away from the toilets, and as I opened my mouth to
tell her this she realized herself. A girl definitely finds some relief in
walking along....it seems to be really difficult for them when they are
forced into a lack of motion. I swear Sam could have walked right back
through the store to certain relief if only she didn’t have to stop moving.
The urgency had obviously faded a bit, and she was anxious to regain some
of her dignity, I think. She said, ‘Oh, shit..you’re joking! Can we walk
back?’
She had a nervous smile back on her face now that she was walking,
though I’m sure she was making light of how seriously she needed to go,
trying to make a sort of joke about it. I suggested that the Men’s shop I
wanted to visit had a toilet, and it was just around the corner. She made a
show of appreciating my concern for her (if only she knew!) and took my
arm. ‘OK then, straight ahead!’ she said, smiling a bit more.
I was almost certain I didn’t remember a toilet in this shop, and could
only hope she would be too embarrassed to ask to use the staff’s. As we
entered I told her to go and speak to them, though, and went off towards a
rack of denims. I kept one ear open as I picked some jeans, but couldn’t
hear anything. So as I headed for the changing room I was delighted to see
she was sitting down on a seat alone.
‘Great, isn’t it? No help at all, he wasn’t...seriously, though, Paul,
are you going to be long? I’ve never wanted to go this badly...we’ll have to
go straight round to the loos, or I’ll embarrass you, I tell you!’
‘Right, I’ll just make sure these fit, then we’re away.’ I headed off to
the changing cubicles, which were totally empty, and found one from where
I could peek out into the shop. It was awkward, but I could just see her legs,
crossed tightly as they were, sticking out from behind a wall, up about as far
as the hem of her skirt, say mid thigh. I didn’t try on the jeans, because I
wanted to be in a position to go straight out if I had to. At the time I thought
it was worth buying them anyway, even if they didn’t fit, if it gave me the
chance to delay some more. (Cruel, aren’t I?)
There ensued around five minutes of shifting in her seat, and her legs
crossed and uncrossed more and more. My mouth was unbelievably dry with
excitement, and my trousers had a huge bulge. I was tempted to touch
myself believe me, it wouldn’t have taken much! She suddenly stood, so I
grabbed the jeans and came out of the cubicle.
‘These are fine, I would have asked you in to see them, but I thought you
were more comfortable sitting,’ She said urgently, ‘I’m not comfortable
doing anything at the moment!’ she was almost cross. ‘Pay for those, I’ll be
outside.’
Out she went, almost hobbling. I got the cash out as fast as I could and
paid, and I could see her pacing outside the shop. Surely she couldn’t hold
out much longer?
I am well aware from my own experience of being ‘caught short’ that the
urge comes in waves. These get worse and worse each time, until presumably
your muscles will give way.(I’ve been close, but it’s never happened.) Sam
had such a look of sheer panic on her face through the window that I was
really hopeful something would happen. My penis was straining against my pants,
and at the back of my mind I remember worrying a bit about anyone noticing.
I thanked the salesman, who had observed Sam’s behavior and had his
eyebrows raised, and walked quickly outside. She started off around the
corner as soon as I came out, and only when I hurried to draw level with her
did I see that she was nearly in tears. ‘Paul, for God’s sake come on or I’ll
piss myself!’
For a moment there was no-one who could see us as we rounded the
corner. Her eyes darted towards a niche next to a shop, and I realized she
was actually so desperate she was considering going there!
Sure enough... ‘Quick, do you reckon I could just drop my knickers and
go a bit there?’ she gasped as she clicked along, not daring to slow. Well,
I suppose so, it’s only about a hundred yards to the toilets, though...!
‘You don’t get it do you?’ she protested angrily, I... CAN’T... WAIT...
ANY... MORE!’ She was taking the opportunity to bend almost double as she
walked, but someone at last came round the corner and put paid to her idea
of going there. I took her arm as she straightened, and carried on. I was
as sure of myself as I could be now. We were walking fast now, and she was
very frantic.
‘I can’t believe I let myself get like this. I’m GOING to go!!!’ she
wailed, and shot me a frantic sidelong glance. She had her hands clasped
around her bag against her tummy, walking stiffly.
‘I just can’t hold this...’ shaking her head, ‘I’m gong to piss in my
knickers like a kid... Paul, I’m sorry!’
She was tearful now, sobbing as we went along. Her pace slowed slightly
all of a sudden, and she gritted her teeth and said under her breath, ‘Just
keep walking... I’m... Oh God, Oh God. I can’t stop it, don’t look!’ As she
bit her lip in her pain I of course had to glance down as we walked, and sure
enough her stockings had drips on, some turning to small rivulets on the
inside of her thighs. She was wailing, ‘Oh, Oh. I’m going to piss myself. I
can’t help it, it’s going everywhere!’
We finally got to one of those trees which appear to have grown out of
the concrete, and she snatched her arm away and leant her back against it.
She just carried on helplessly peeing down between her legs and soaking her
stockings. The dozen or so people in this part of the complex were ignored
for a time, until she seemed to get it all under a bit of control. She was
crying softly, though, and she looked at me and just said, ‘..My shoes..’
I looked. There was only a smallish puddle, so I suppose most of what
she had released so far had run down into her high heels. Anyway, she wanted
to get away from the scene quickly, so we walked and hobbled around and down
to the Car Park, with me making what comforting noises I could. I was
speechless with excitement, though, and I think she started to see this.
‘Er... are YOU OK?’ she said.
The car park was deserted, and as we went around the back of my car I
just couldn’t resist it. I remember mumbling something about it really
turning me on, and, vaguely wondering how she’d take it, I unzipped
myself. Released, I burst out from my boxer shorts, and to this day I never
remember feeling so huge and engorged. I held myself, pretty sure we were
unable to be seen. Sam, as I thought, was adventurous enough not to mind.
In fact, it seemed to electrify her. She had been standing with her hand in
her crotch, obviously still feeling pressure from her bladder, and to my
delight she now began rubbing, absolutely wide-eyed as she stared down at
what I was doing.
‘My God, Paul, you’re making yourself come’ her voice was now thick
with lust. ‘I’ve never seen a boy do this... go on... go on...’
She quickly rammed her hand up inside her skirt, and started to slowly
frig. I couldn’t see anything under there, but hardly needed any more
turning on. I remember feeling really wanton, and I suppose to try and repay
the terrific turn-on this girl had given me I pulled my boxer shorts right
down, cupped my balls with my other hand, and made sure she could clearly
see what I was doing. She was gasping and moaning as she watched me,
and I just couldn’t hold it back any more. Great gobs of sperm shot out of
me, and spattered on the ground.
My orgasm over, I was left feeling slightly silly, and started to worry
again about someone seeing us. The area remained deserted, however, and I
covered myself up, moved over, and kissed Sam. She placed her free hand
on my shoulder, moved her legs slightly apart, and continued to masturbate
while we kissed. Her breathing quickly became much heavier, and soon she
shuddered to her own climax. Taking her hand out from her knickers, she
giggled and said, ‘This hand’s absolutely filthy... it’s soaked with pee and
loads more!
She placed her bag on the boot of my car, took a tissue out, and
demurely wiped her hand. Before we got back into the car she squatted
behind it and relieved herself completely, and on the way home she
confessed that although she had hated wetting her knickers and being so
desperate (she hadn’t, at the time, realized what it was doing to me) she
had been fantastically aroused by the result. She was even slightly amused
by my own confession about how I had been trying to guide her into just that
predicament.
There were two or three more of these memorable times with Sam, and
although they were contrived, that didn’t really lessen the impact of seeing
her dance around and loose control of herself. I shall continue in another
story...
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