Oasis95 40 Posted March 21, 2019 Popular Post Share Posted March 21, 2019 The story I am about to relate to you concerns a friend of mine from college called Ankita. A little bit of background first. Ankita was a junior of mine in college from Punjab, a really skinny girl with a shock of frizzled hair. In all other aspects she was an almost painful reminder of the 90s Bollywood version of the ‘girl-next-door’. Raised in Chandigarh and having gone to a strict convent school throughout her life, she was the epitome of being closed-off, shy, judgmental and quite naive to the ways of the world. It was probably this contrast in character which made us friends. Our friendship was basically hinged around my making fun of her and my lifestyle (of reckless bouts of drinking, regular smoking and occasionally getting into trouble) leaving her shocked, clucking her tongue and yet strangely and increasingly intrigued. Just to get a bit of background into her mentality I’ll relate this one instance I remember clearly (for which I occasionally still make fun of her) which was the first time I’d seen her profusely swearing. I heard my doorbell ring once and then several times more by the time I reached the main door to pry it open. This in itself was weird because it had taken me barely ten seconds to reach the door yet the ringing on the other side had belied a strange insistence (as if my caller believed that ringing the bell over and over would bring me out faster). This was all too strange since I was only expecting Ankita to drop by to discuss a script for this play that she was trying to put up in college. As you can imagine the girl was punctual as hell (quite unlike tardy old me) and would never have impolitely been repeatedly ringing doorbells (or now as I could hear, insistently knocking on the door). I opened the door and found myself staring at a sight I hadn’t quite been expecting. There stood Ankita, hair more frizzed up and messy than usual wearing the college sweatshirt (it was still February in Delhi and fairly cold) and her standard blue-jeans. What caught me by surprise was the pained expression on her face. That expression was quickly explained by her tightly (and I mean really tightly) crossed legs and the hand jammed tightly into her crotch. My, my…the demure young girl from Chandigarh had lost all pretense of her usually sober (and very uptight paavam self) under the compulsions of her overfull bladder. She looked at me imploringly, the full urgency of her need to urinate communicated by every syllable she uttered as she almost gasped out ‘I need to use your toilet right now!’ Even in my haze of shock at trying to get around what I was seeing before my eyes, the evil impish side of me refused to lay quiet. I gave, what must have been for her, a maddening grin and said in a suitably irritating, sing-song voice ‘You forgot to say the magic word!’ 😛 That’s when the next surprising thing in this evening of surprises happened. She actually shoved past me yelling ‘Get the fuck out of my way! This is urgent!!’ and just ignored me to rush into my flat uninvited and ran to the bathroom. A good five minutes after what must have been an agonisingly long yet orgasmic pee, Ankita emerged out of the bathroom, bright pink in her embarrassment. She apologized to me profusely for having used ‘bad words’ before (I know right?!) I told her it was ok and went back to the business of joking around it (all the while realizing this girl for whom I had never had any sexual feelings before then would definitely pop into my head in her particular predicament the next time I was jerking off). She later told me that the reason she had been in such a state of desperation was due to the large quantities of water she had gulped down after having a round of spicy beef kebabs at Old Delhi (somehow, I was completely unsurprised by the fact of her stunningly low tolerance for spice in her food). She in fact confided in me that she was really worried during the auto journey back to my place itself. She genuinely believed for a bit, once she was off the auto and rushing towards my house that she might have an accident and wet her pants on my staircase. The fact that she had let out a spurt of urine in her panties while paying the auto-wallah didn’t help. That was the first time you could say that I had any inkling of the otherwise very repressed and uptight Ankita as an object of my sexual fascination. But over the course of the remainder of my time in college we just remained friends. By the time I was graduating she had expressed to me that she had had a crush on me for the longest time, but I knew nothing would have come of it as I was dating someone else at that point and I knew there was no real chemistry in that equation. Nevertheless, over the years Ankita stayed in touch with me and if anything began confiding even more about her personal matters with me. She found she could trust me (which is true), especially when discussing matters of sexuality. She started really trying to explore her own body though only after having herself graduated from college. She would sometimes talk to me about it and I would give her general advice to just try and shed off her inhibitions and try to be herself. What caught my attention was her latest confession to me about an incident that happened to her in her dorm. Ankita had left India to study in Germany. She currently lives in this dorm in Berlin. Their dorm system though has a remarkable feature viz a viz toilets. You see everyone in the hostel has their own room. But every two room block shares one common bathroom. This common bathroom can be accessed only through those rooms (so its basically a common attached bathroom which has two entries, one for each room). Common etiquette is that when one of the neighbours is using the bathroom, he/she locks the door leading to the neighbour’s room from inside the bathroom. This way the neighbour is spared the chance of accidentally walking into their neighbours in the bathroom. This being Germany and not India, obviously her dorm is also co-ed. Ankita’s room neighbour is in fact a Pakistani fellow called Wahid who’s studying computer science in Germany. One morning when Ankita had an off she decided (for once like a normal person) to sleep in late. But clearly even her body was too regimented to a schedule to let her hair down for a bit. By 10.00 am she had to emerge from under her covers due to the insistent ritual morning call of nature. She had ignored the growing pressure in her bladder until it had started sending little electric shocks to her urethra but it was finally the rumbling in her bowels that convinced her to get out of bed and go relieve herself. Just as she tried to open her bathroom door though she realized the latch wouldn’t move. She heaved against the door again. Didn’t budge. She let out a frustrated sigh. Wahid must have gotten in before her. She was pacing about her small dorm room for 10 minutes before a more dreadful realization began to dawn on her. It had already been 10 minutes. There was no sound from inside the bathroom. If Wahid had been bathing, she would have heard the shower or if he had been taking his morning dump she would’ve heard (what she calls a bit playfully (maybe even a little sexually) his ‘pooping grunts’). But it had been ten minutes and there was no sound. She knocked on the door softly calling out her neighbour’s name. No response. That’s when the full scope of her predicament hit her. The awful reality was that Wahid had finished his morning rituals in the bathroom and had left for college. But he had forgotten to unlock the bathroom’s door leading to Ankita’s room. Ankita quickly got out of her room and walked over to Wahid’s only for that sinking realization to hit her in the gut as she saw the gold gleaming lock on Wahid’s front door. That sinking feeling in her gut was soon replaced by the persistent rumbling of the poop building inside her bowels urging for their release. Only now, there was nowhere for Ankita to relieve herself. Ankita tried to see if she could ask any of her other neighbours to see if they would let her use their toilets. But she was practically the only person on her entire floor. It was an off day for her since punctuality freak that she was she had completed all her term assignments and her thesis writing a full week before the deadline. But the other (somewhat normal :p) people being what they were, everyone was away from their dorms clustered in libraries and labs all across campus desperately working to finish off their projects before their own deadlines caught up to them. Ankita felt her stomach drop as these realizations started crashing into her. She was still too shy to call the German building maintenance people to break into her own bathroom (and having to explain to them the exact nature of the emergency) was altogether way too unappealing. She got back into her room. The realization that relief was nowhere near in sight seemed to make her urgency to empty her bladder and bowels grow in leaps and bounds. She paced about and tried to distract herself with reading or with listening to music on her ipod. It didn’t work for too long. Soon she had one hand clutching her pubic mound around tightly crossed legs and the other straying down worriedly to check the back of her shorts to see if there was any ‘backside leakage’ every time her tortured anus let another low fart through. She tried calling her neighbour but his phone was switched off. She realized that he must be coding in the computer lab. This was bad news. If he was doing programming work it could take him hours to come back to his room. It was at this point of nearly hopeless desperation that Ankita realized just how dire her situation was. Without access to a bathroom she literally felt she had no option but to completely wet and soil her pants. If she did that, she would have no way to clean herself either. She did not fancy her chances of trying to cleanse her soiled nether regions while standing half naked at the basin of the communal kitchen and the communal laundry system of the dorm would make it well nigh impossible to hide her soiled shorts. Also, the pink cotton shorts she was wearing were her favourite for bedtime. That’s when she made a surprising decision in the midst of her urgency. She quickly slid the shorts down her slender leg. She wore no panties while sleeping so now she was half naked. She slipped her fingers through the slight but natural growth of pubic hair crowning her pudendum to use her fingers to apply maximum pressure on her aching pee-hole. Standing like that, fidgeting around half naked meant her hand grabbing her pussy to hold back the flood was constantly being rubbed up against her genitals. Ankita had only recently (despite her age of 21 years) discovered the pleasures of touching her clitoris and now her little clit buddy was fully awake from all the jostling (and obviously the pressure). She found her vagina get rather damp…and not from urine. It was pleasurable, took her mind off her urgent need to urinate for a bit. But another bubbling fart emanating out of her sparsely haired anus brought reality back to her. In her panic to clench up her rear-hole she lost a second’s worth of urethral control and all of a sudden, a spurt of overnight held liquid gold splattered onto her dorm carpet. This could not be happening! Ankita made a rare spur of the moment decision. She saw an unused glass jug she had bought a month earlier with the plan of putting some flowers in water in it to brighten up her room a bit. But that plan had fallen through and there stood the glass jug, tantalisingly empty. She grabbed it and shoved it right up against her pussy lips. The suction created by the jug’s opening gave her a sudden pleasurable chill up her spine. She would later confess that the combination of her desperate need to piss and her agitated clit (not to mention the unmentionable and for her never before attempted act of peeing in a jug half naked) had left her with a strange sense of sexual excitement. It took a second for her overworked sphincter to relax and then the urine flooded out in earnest. She couldn’t help but moan out in relief as waves of pleasure wracked her tortured body as her bladder emptied out at last. The jug was filled to the brim and Ankita hid her glassful of shame under bed. She pondered her naked pussy as she slid her fingers through her pubes to brush off a few stray drops of urine clinging to them. The pressure in her bowels too had temporarily subsided (though she had been frantically trying the difficult task of clenching her anus shut tight to prevent the horrifying possibility of accidentally letting a turd slip out of herself as she spread her legs to urinate into the jug.) It was then panting from the flush of much needed leak that the second miracle happened to save Ankita’s dignity. Wahid who had popped out of the lab for a smoke saw her missed call and rang back. She quickly explained to him the blunder he had done and the man came rushing back, profusely apologetic to unlock the bathroom door from his side of the room. Ankita received him outside her room, hands crossed around her small breasts, pink shorts temporarily back on. But she couldn’t pull off the dignified inconvenience routine for long…even as Wahid was apologising and opening his room her body betrayed her and she let out a long low uncontrollable fart. Both of them turned scarlet in embarrassment. The moment the door was unlocked Ankita rushed in and almost jumped onto the commode, rapidly ripping her shorts down. This time she told me it was her neighbour’s turn to hear her moan on the toilet as she (to use her words) immediately ‘grew a tail of poop’ out of her rear end. She was heaving and sweaty but the feeling of finally feeling her bowels empty out led to a surprising ‘mini orgasm’ (in her words). The feeling must have been so overwhelming that it was only after washing her ass and pulling up her shorts did she realize that she had been so desperate that she hadn’t actually bothered locking the bathroom door leading to Wahid’s room (though the door was closed) P.S. - For non-Indian readers 'paavam' (I used that word to describe my friend) is basically something which means 'pure' or 'innocent' and usually employed to describe a person who is naively innocent (mostly in relation to their knowledge or awareness of vice). 99dbirdjsu, hihia28, Shaggydog and 6 others 9 Quote Link to comment
Looking4Alaska 32 Posted March 22, 2019 Share Posted March 22, 2019 Great story! More please~ this was enthralling 😀 Quote Link to comment
etechie 21 Posted March 26, 2019 Share Posted March 26, 2019 I liked this story a lot, you were very lucky to have heard this Quote Link to comment
Drip Drop 52 Posted March 27, 2019 Share Posted March 27, 2019 Sweet story man. Very well-written, with detailed descriptions. Quote Link to comment
Oasis95 40 Posted March 27, 2019 Author Share Posted March 27, 2019 4 hours ago, mxam13224 said: Sweet story man. Very well-written, with detailed descriptions. Thanks a lot! Quote Link to comment
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