» Desperate Times

My Wet Ride Home From Slough
(Not me - but a friend... lets caller her Missy...)

I had been talking all day and my mouth was rather dry. We had had our coffee break quite late, and I had drunk a nice cup of tea. After that I had another couple of glasses of water because the central heating was on and it made my throat dry. That and all the talking anyway.

I must have left Slough, which is on the outskirts of London, at about 5 pm. I had a journey of about 100 miles – probably take me about 2 and a half hours given the traffic at that time of the evening.

I did have a wee before I left Slough office. Got in the car and set off. Headed for Windsor and the M3, but was still thirsty so started to drink the bottle of water I keep in the car for such times. About a half a litre I guess. Bad mistake number 1!

Kept driving – traffic heavy but moving. Got to M3 - only needed to drive one junction down, then come off and head for Farnborough and Farnham. As I approached Farnham – guess I was about half way by now, it started to get dark. I guess it was about 7 o’clock by now.

And my bladder was starting to tell me how full it was getting. I was getting very uncomfortable! But although there were services along the way I decided to plod on. I had to stop off at Andy’s on the way home to drop something off for Chris, and that was only about 40 minutes away. I could wait until then for a pee.

The trouble with water is – it goes through me VERY quickly. And that bottle was getting through now. I got onto the Petersfield road. Not that much further but getting more desperate by the second. There was no way now I could stop because there were no services and as it was now pitch black and I was on a country road I was not going to risk a lay by stop. I had my black business suit on – with trousers. Not as easy to pee discreetly in that. Had I had a skirt I may have been able to swivel my bum out of the door discreetly and pee without getting out the car – but not with trousers.

So on I went. Feeling more uncomfortable and full all the time. That particular road is quite bumpy. As I approached the A3 near Petersfield I hit a nasty pothole, and that was enough to make me leak pee into my panties. Not a lot but enough to make them and my trousers quite damp.

I was getting very uncomfortable and desperate by now. There was nowhere to stop. I was cursing myself for not stopping earlier. By now I was leaking pee quite often – every time I moved or hit a bump. My trousers were getting very damp and my car seat was in danger of getting soaked. I really didn’t know what to do for the best. I put my foot down and arrived at Andy’s about 5 minutes later.

I very carefully got out the car and realised there was no way I could use his loo – I would have had to walk right through the house and my trousers were quite obviously wet by now. I could feel there was a patch at the back about a foot across. So I went to the front door, dropped off Chris’s money, and hastily got back into the car for the 20 minute drive home.
I knew I was going to struggle, so I got the car rug from the back of the car and sat on that – just in case. I rolled it up into a big pad and stuck it under my bum.

I hit the M27 which took me almost home and put my foot down. But by now I was beginning to feel quite ill and faint with desperation. The rug was jammed up between my legs and doing a good job stopping me leak. But actually I needed to because I felt so bad. So every so often I lifted my bum and squirted some pee out. But the trouble was it didn’t ease it – I was SO full up. So I jiggled myself around a bit so that I could pee and let out as much as I could. It gushed out and flooded the rug. But I still had more to go – lots of it and the rug was getting full.

I was feeling quite sick now. I pulled off the motorway at my junction. Only about 5 minutes to go. Still had to let a bit out – a squirt here and there – to relieve the pressure a bit.
I did a lot more than the 30 mph limit. Luckily I didn’t get stopped. If the police had stopped me and made me get out of the car they would definitely have got more than they bargained for!

I got to the turning for my estate. Nearly there. By now my trousers were uncomfortably soaked and cold and I was planning my escape to the loo. I wouldn’t unload my bags from the car until I had rushed in to the loo. I knew where my key was – I could make it. Pulled up onto the drive. Nearly there. Just fleetingly I considered whether I would make it to the kitchen and pee all over the floor.

I let a thought flash through my mind that perhaps it would be better to piss myself outside and make a mess there. That was enough for my brain to tell my bladder to let go. As I swung my legs from the car and stood up I started. I peed and peed and peed. I kicked my shoes off quickly because they were in danger of getting a good soaking. I could smell the urine smell even though I was out in the open. My trousers were absolutely soaked. The piss was pouring down my legs in rivers and puddling at my feet. My socks were dripping I must have kept going for several minutes.

Fortunately the car door was sheltering me from prying eyes of neighbours, but if they could see the look of relief on my face I feel sure they would have known what was going on! They could probably see the pee running out of the bottom of my trousers and dripping through the gravel drive anyway

When I had eventually finished, I grabbed the rug, sploshed up the garden, opened the back door and just dropped my trousers and socks on the doorstep on the rug. I have never been so wet in my life.

I grabbed a towel, unloaded the car with the towel round my waist and had a shower. The clothes and rug all went into the washing machine. Luckily my car seat, which is leather, didn’t suffer any lasting damage.
(Fri 16th Nov 2007, 15:26, More)

» Why I Love/Hate Britain

Wht do I like about Britian?
The fact that you shipped off all your religious nutters to the American colonies before sending your criminals, Irish scum and prostitutes to the Australian colonies.
(Fri 4th Oct 2013, 21:05, More)

» Jobsworths

Love and Hate
First job out of University, Australian Department of Defence, 1979. I needed to get a writing pad, some pens, stuff like that. Off to the stationary supply area. Guy behind the counter - must have been just off the boat from Liverpool by his accent - had a pair of tattoos on his knuckles - "Love" and "Hate". Honest to God, I am telling the truth.

After telling him what I needed, he told me "Ye canna git anyfing wie out a req form!"

Of course - they introduced the dreaded stationary requisition form earlier that week.

"Well, can I get a req form to fill out?"

He ponders this for a while, then replied "Ye canna git anyfing wie out a req form!"

The discussion degenerated quickly from there.
(Thu 12th May 2005, 18:29, More)

» Losing Your Virginity

Condoms, condoms and more condoms.
Hmmm. I was 20. She was 16. I was about to leave home after finishing Uni to live 200 miles away. Lovely summer's day, in my bed. She was worried about getting pregnant, so I slipped on a condom. And then "what if it breaks, can you put another on?". And a third.

Doing the dirty with three layers of latex between the old fellow and her lovely wet virginal virgina meant I felt bugger all. After ten or fifteen minutes, she had got off, and was now getting sore. I could still feel nothing.
(Fri 4th Mar 2005, 18:50, More)

» Phobias

Fishing (with an "H" - not a "T", you dirty-minded people)
It goes back to when I was maybe fifteen - we were on summer holidays at a little town on the far north coast of New South Wales. Most mornings, my father and I would get up early, go to the beach and fish - standing waist deep while the waves broke around us, trying to catch lunch or dinner.

One particular morning, as I was fishing, and not catching anything, a larger than normal wave approached. I took a few steps backward, where the water was not so deep, and as I did, less than a foot in front of me, was a large, open mouth full of really sharp teeth. The shark proceeded to chomp down on where I had been only a second or two ago.

I promptly emptied my bladder in record time, all while sprinting backwards at a great rate of knots. And to tie in with the QOTW from two weeks earlier, had I not had a good early morning shit before leaving home, I would have emptied all of that in to my shorts.

I've never been fishing again. I don't even like watching fishing shows or scenes on TV.
(Thu 10th Apr 2008, 20:10, More)