It was a very spur of the moment thing and I had no time to plan for the trip,
so there wasn't anything I could do about the fact that the rather salty bacon
I'd had for breakfast had led to my drinking almost 6 cans of diet cola as well
as my usual "can't do without" 3 or 4 mugs of tea, which, had I known I'd be
going on this journey, I most certainly would NOT have drank.
But I had no time to worry about that, I had to leave right away!
I got in cab and I soon found out the driver's name was Dave. He wasn't bad
looking I suppose, mid 40s, he was the chatty type but I wasn't in the mood for
conversation and I guess with my irritated and rather abrupt 'yes' and 'no'
answers, he got the message and continued the drive in silence.
I sensed he thought I was rude, but I didn't care. About half an hour into the
journey I began to feel a slight desperation, the need to pee, but I was too shy to say anything,
especially with the way I'd been so abrupt with him earlier, so I had no choice
but to sit and hold my bladder and hope it wouldn't get worse.
I was wearing tight black jeans because I had had no time to change into
something more comfortable, but during the next half hour my need rapidly
increased at an alarming rate and I really, really needed to pee badly now.
Well, I'm not a driver, but I know enough to know its illegal to pull over on a
motorway, I tried not to fidget but I couldn't help it, I was desperate for a
pee. Dave noticed my anxiety and asked if I was all right, not wanting to
confide in him I said, "yes, I'm fine thankyou." Although in reality I was
anything but all right, my desperation was rapidly getting so
intense and I was frantic with worry, the last thing I wanted to do was to show
myself up in front of a stranger whom I didn't like very much and whom I'd be
confined in the car with for the next couple of hours! That would be
uncomfortably embarrassing. But my bladder was now bursting, my desperation was so intense
that it was either
say something to him, or he'd see something on
the floor of his car before too long - of that I was in no doubt.
I sobbed as another strong wave overcame me and I had to hold my breath to regain control
"Is there anywhere on this motorway we can stop for a few minutes?" I asked,
trying to sound as casual as I could.
"Why, what's up?" he replied, irritated.
As much as I wanted to, I just couldn't admit it, I just couldn't.
"I want to buy a magazine to read." I replied, trying so hard to hide the
frantic desperation I was feeling.
"Well OK then," he replied, "I could do with a coffee, there's a service station
about 60 miles ahead."
60 miles! I felt both a mixture of relief and anxiety, relief that we would be
stopping before Nottingham, but I knew I couldn't hold on for another 60 miles,
no way.
I was almost in tears with worry, the waves of intense desperation were getting
too much and I could no longer act normal, I was having to hold myself and
fidget. I couldn't sit straight on the seat, I no longer cared if he noticed or
not, I was way past caring, all I was concerned about was desperately trying
very hard not to wet myself.
"Now what's up?" he asked again, "do you need to go to the toilet?"
"Yes, I'm sorry," I whimpered, "but I'm really desperate."
"Well just hang on," he said crossly, "the service station is only about another
40 miles up the road."
"I don't think I can, I'm sorry." I sobbed as another strong wave overcame me
and I had to hold my breath to regain control.
"Well you'd better!" he snapped, "I'm tired of having to have my car seats
cleaned because you girls have got no self control."
I found that by sitting right on the edge of the car seat and undoing my jeans,
it gave me a slightly better hold, I was able to hold my crotch firmly with both
hands and cross my legs at the same time, and as long as I kept intense
concentration and not take any deep breaths I knew I had some chance of making
it --- but it was only that - a chance. I kept it up for 10 minutes but then I
felt an urge I couldn't control, I knew I was losing it when I felt quite a
long spurt of pee escape through my tightly clenched hands, it was enough to
drip onto the floor, fortunately Dave didn't notice and I held tighter, but when
it happened again after a few moments, I knew I'd lost the battle.
"Ooohhh no! NO!! I'm sorry, oohh no! I can't hold it any longer!"
I cried as the drips turned to a stream and slowly but steadily, a large puddle
appeared at my feet, as every last drop from my bladder seeped through my
panties and jeans.
The relief of an empty bladder was indescribable, Dave just looked annoyed, he
slowed his driving down and when we eventually got to the service station he
slammed the door and said, "I'm going for a coffee, you get yourself cleaned up,
I'll give you 20 minutes then we're on our way again."
The situation had turned me on so much that I went into the restroom and rubbed
myself to a wonderful climax. The I cleaned up my pee as best I could. The rest of the
journey was completed in silence, I guess he was really mad with me. I really
hope you enjoyed that as much as I enjoyed writing it. Debra xx
