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Author's Note - I am writing this as part of a story trade with @Mad Bladder. They provided a detailed outline - so this fic will be somewhat different from my usual jam. I will post short chapters, scenes, as they get done. The first few scenes don't really have much desperation, but I promise the good stuff will come 😉

PS - The story is set against the backdrop of a baseball game. I know zilch about baseball. So if you're a baseball fan, I beg your pardon.

Scene-1: I Need That Soda!

"Must we?" Paul whined, as Greg stood in his living room giving him a stern glance. Paul loved the man and all, but really, baseball!?

"We had a deal. I watch A Walk To Remember with you, you come to a baseball game with me."  

Well, yes, there was that. But a local park baseball? With only hardcore baseball fanatics around? Ugh!

"I kept my end of the bargain." - Greg's voice was so deep and firm. Compelling. How could Paul ever say no to that?

"Fine, I'll go to the stupid game with you. Let me get dressed!"

Greg had that rakish smile on his face, the one Paul really really liked. Well, ok, he could deal with a little baseball for that smile.

"Hurry up, wouldn't wanna miss anything".

Paul hurried to his bedroom - what do people even wear to baseball games? Greg was in a light blue jeans and a white T-shirt, but it was too hot for a jeans in Paul's opinion. He put on his black shorts instead, the one which cutely accentuated his butt. May be that'll get Greg's attention!

They had been friends since freshman year in college - though they were as different as any two students could be. They had met at a gay bar, probably the only common attribute they had, and become fast friends. Quite a few moons later, they were twenty somethings with jobs in the same city, and still best mates. And somewhere along the line Paul had fallen hard for his friend. Neither of them had boyfriends at the moment, so why not? Well, if only Paul could tell Greg that.

Shaking his long mane of brown hair, he woke himself out of his reverie. He threw on his bright red t-shirt and slipped his feet in to his favorite blue flip flops, and then admired his lanky frame in the mirror. Well, that'll do. A quick visit to the en-suite bathroom, and he was ready to roll.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"I want that", Paul was whiny again. Greg nearly rolled his eyes.

"You sound like a child"

"I don't care. If I have to watch a baseball game, I need that"

"Really? A monster soda?"

"Yup. One for me, one for you."

Paul was pouting now. Greg almost laughed at how cute he looked. He really should just go ask the guy out - but dating your best friend, well, it came with complications.

He sighed and bought the king size monster sodas as they entered the park and settled down near the top of the bleachers. The park was semi-empty today, may be a hundred people at most, they could see the houses on the left and the soccer field on the right. The players weren't out yet, so Greg looked around to see if there was anyone they knew.

"See, none of our friends watch these stupid matches!" 

"Baseball isn't stupid Paul! It's actually fun, if you would just stop complaining and watch!?"

Paul was pouting again. Did he even know how cute he looked when he did that? 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Paul settled down, still pouting. No, he wasn't going to "give baseball a chance" thank you very much. But he had Greg all to himself for the next three hours, and his favorite soda, so life wouldn't be too bad. As the players entered the field, Paul was already enjoying the outing, chugging down the soda. 

By the end of the first innings, Paul had finished his monster soda and made Greg buy him another from the lone vendor moving around the bleachers. He was watching baseball for him. He surely owed him some sodas! They continued their chit chat, as he stretched his skinny legs up on the empty seat below them. He could feel the soda trickling into his bladder, but he had a large enough one to not worry. He slurrped his drink noisily as Greg jumped up and down at some "particularly good bit of play".

As the second innings ended, Paul became aware of the growing pressure in his lower abdomen. His bladder was becoming really full. Well over a litre of soda would do that to a man. But unwilling to end his conversation with Greg, he decided to ignore it. He was barely aware of the need to pee, a 4/10 - he would pee at this stage if he were alone, but he could wait. He would be fine. 

He casually crossed his long legs and continued sipping the remnants of his second king-size soda occasionally. No more chugging it.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Greg noticed Paul's legs - crossed casually ahead of him. He looked pretty relaxed, but an hour after chugging that king size drink Greg's own bladder was pretty full. Paul had chugged two - could the leg crossing mean something more?

"Ugh! That soda is going right through me" Greg commented casually, hoping to draw a reaction from Paul. "I wish the toilets weren't all the way out near the gates. I wouldn't mind running out for a quick whizz, but we are not missing this game!"

"Yeah I know. I have to pay for my rom-com, right? Ugh! I know you actually enjoyed A Walk To Remember! Be a man and 'fess up"

Paul wasn't biting.

"Yeah, like I know you're enjoying this match. Isn't it awesome? Though I wish it were less eventful - I would be rushing to a loo right about now"

Greg baited the trap further. He wanted to know!

"How 'bout you?"

"I am bored. This is sports you remember?" Paul smirked

Greg rolled his eyes. Clearly, Paul wasn't biting. Which also meant he probably didn't need to pee at all. Paul did always have a large bladder. He decided to just enjoy their time together - they really hadn't found too much time to meet up lately.

But as the vendor came by again after the end of the fourth innings, Greg decided to give his luck a shove in the right direction ...

Edited by Mickey (see edit history)
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  • 2 weeks later...

Scene-2: I don't want that soda!

"Here, you can stop sucking at that empty cup now"

Damn. Greg had bought him another king size soda. With two litres of heavily caffeinated monster soda already inside him and just half the game gone, he had not planned on drinking any more liquids. Much less yet another huge cup of heavily diuretic soda. His bladder was already uncomfortably full - nothing urgent yet, on the higher side of 5/10. His legs were still on top of the chairs in front of him, but they were no longer just casually crossed. He distinctly needed to press his legs together. Normally he would just get up and take a piss - but he really didn't want to leave Greg alone. Also, he knew Greg would whine about him missing the game - he had already said "no pee breaks", if not in so many words.

Though of course, he could take a pee break if he really needed to. But then, which 26 year old wants to admit they really need to pee, in front of their crush? Just admitting to a full bladder is bad enough at any time, as if he's a little boy. But admitting he needs to pee so badly he can't see out a 3 hour game? Hell no. He crossed his legs a little bit tighter. He'll be fine. Half the game was over anyway.

But it was getting more difficult to ignore his bladder. He had quite a large one, and he had peed just before leaving. He was sure he could wait this out. But he could really feel his bladder now, the urine trickling in slowly - if only he were interested in baseball! At least the game would have distracted him from his steadily filling bladder. Instead he was acutely aware of how it had been filling up, the urge to tinkle gradually becoming more and more insistent as the game wore on.

"Earth to Paul, earth to Paul"

Paul jolted out of his reverie. Greg was shaking the soda in front of him, the liquids sloshing about. Dammit. He squirmed a little to find a more comfortable position - he had always been proud of his mammoth bladder, but 2 litres of soda in less than 2 hours can be a bit much for anybody. He pulled his legs down and sat up straight - there, that reduced the pressure on his bladder. He took the soda and dragged Greg in to a conversation about some mad things they had got up to in college. He needed to ignore his rising need to pee. Somehow.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Greg was happy enough to be drawn in to a conversation. The intensity of the game had fallen bit, and the intensity of his "make Paul desperate for relief" game had picked up. He noticed Paul sit up straight and lean backwards, his body relaxing a bit, as if giving his bladder room felt good. He uncrossed his legs and took a tiny sip from his cup.

They chit chatted for a while, Paul seemingly oblivious to his filling bladder. Around the midpoint of fifth innings Greg noticed Paul touching his abdomen, probably unconsciously, gently stroking it. May be he was starting to feel all the liquids finally? He was measuring his gulps now, like he really didn't want to put more soda in, without letting some come out. When he crossed his legs, one over the other, tight, with a rather panicky expression on his face, Greg knew. The plan was working.

Taking advantage of a lull in their conversation, while Paul crossed his legs the other way, Greg decided to change the topic to something more, interesting.

"You know, we should do a trip to Niagra Falls sometimes"

"What!? So random!?"

"No, I was just remembering my visit there. I went there when I was a little kid you know, with my parents. But I still remember the gush of the water. The sound it makes, as it rushes free - there is just so much flowing water. And when we went it was raining heavily, the spray from the falls mixing with the rain. Water was dripping all over us, split splat. It was just so nice"

"Uh huh" - there was a definite hitch to Paul's voice now as he gulped down a big mouthful of soda, and tried to find a more comfortable position. Greg could tell he was trying to be inconspicuous, but it was quite obvious  - Paul was uncomfortably full now. And the images of water falls wasn't helping.

"Yeah, I really love water you know. Just splashing around in it. Or swimming in a river, while the water rushes all around you. But the best thing is a waterfall. Imagine so much water being held back, and then forcing it's way out. Such beauty! Such freedom too, finally getting to make it's way out of the rocks ..."

Paul distinctly groaned. Greg's attentive eyes caught the shiver that ran over his body, and the blush that spread over his cheeks, as he 'casually' pressed the soda cup against his crotch. For a moment Greg thought he would come right out and say he needed to pee, now. But he seemed to reconsider it, gulp a few times and then determinedly changed the subject.

Greg let him. That soda he had drank was making it's own way down. All that water talk wasn't exactly comforting for him either.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

By the beginning of the sixth innings, Paul knew he was in trouble. Serious trouble. He was still sipping on his drink, and he could feel each sip make it's way right through him and to his bladder. He could swear he felt the drink dribbling in to his bladder, and packing it up with the liquids. He wasn't in a crisis, not yet. He wouldn't be looking for a bush just yet if he were on a road trip alone - but he wasn't far from the point. 7/10 you could say.

Paul tugged the hem of his shirt nervously. A slight curve was developing on his abdomen, his bladder swelling out. He looked down at the half liter of soda still left and immediately pretzeled his legs, crossing them at the ankles too. He would hate pissing himself in front of so many people - mostly jocks that too. But he really didn't want to admit to a desperate need for relief. No, he wasn't that desperate yet. And he definitely did not want to talk to his crush about needing "the little boys' room". He decided to wait out the innings, and finish his drink. He'll see whether his bladder or his heart wins out after that.

Throughout the innings, he had to fidget in his seat, trying to get comfy. Halfway through, he couldn't afford to uncross his legs any longer - they needed to stay permanently closed, like his spinchter. He really really didn't want the rest of the soda, but Greg was encouraging him to finish and making jokes about people who wouldn't drink their soda for fear of needing to pee. That just brought out Paul's competitive streak, and made him down the soda. He regretted it the very next moment as a surge of need ravished his poor bladder. He could no longer deny it - he needed to pee. Thankfully the innings was just about to end. Perfect time to excuse himself to the bathroom.

He thought of all the ways he could say "I need to pee" and found each deeply embarrassing. But the pressure down there told him he really needed to excuse himself, and now. He pressed his things together, as he went through his excuses in his head.

"Hey Greg, I am very stiff - I need to take a walk". Nope. He would probably buy him another soda and take him on a walk in the opposite direction.

"Greg, I need a tinkle". Nope. Too embarrassing.

"Excuse me for a sec Greg. I'll just run to the men's room." Greg had already said he wouldn't let them miss anything! What if he just says "Nope, wait like a big boy?"

"Greg, I am bursting for a piss". Too damn close to the truth.

Thinking of all the ways to excuse himself was just making the urge worse. He sneaked a hand inside his pocket and gave himself a good squeeze. He really needed to take a piss, right now.

He will just have to make a run for it. Never mind excusing himself from Greg. He wants to pee, and NOW! His bladder was way too full.

Edited by Mickey (see edit history)
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Scene-3: Desperation

Greg had enjoyed watching Paul fidget in his peripheral vision. He hadn't dared to stare, but just knowing his friend was desperate to use the loo was enough. He noticed Paul getting up - damn, Paul must be making his way to the urinals. Knowing he'll probably never manage to make Paul bursting to wee again, he decided to push his luck.

"Oi! Where do you think you're going? No running away from the game", he kept his voice light as he pulled Paul by the wrist.

"Oh come on! You know I won't leave without you" Paul almost whined, while stepping from foot to foot.

"Oh yeah? You're telling me you haven't been thinking of it for the last six innings?"

"Well, ok, maybe a bit" he laughed, and immediately winced. Laughing on a full bladder is never a good idea, Greg thought wryly.

Greg liked his laugh. He loved how Paul had his thighs pressed together even more, knees bent slightly inwards. Biting his lower lip. Still not telling Greg how badly he needs to piss. Well, there were still two innings to go!

"Come on, sit back down. You're a big boy, you can certainly wait out the two remaining innings." Greg pulled him down to the seat "No one's leaving till the match is won"

"Not like your team's gonna win" Paul actually stuck out his tongue at him, while his eyes showed how troubled he was about the pressure on his bladder. Greg laughed out loud at how ridiculously cute Paul looked and their conversation changed in to pure banter. Greg was gonna keep a close eye on Paul though - if he had anything to say about this, Paul won't find relief for a very very long time. He kept his hold on Paul's wrist. No, that did not count as holding hands.

*****************

Paul couldn't believe he had let Greg pull him back down. He fucking needed to piss! Sure he was a big boy with a big bladder, but he also had drank 3 litres of soda. In 2 hours. Surely he deserves some relief? But no, Greg was still holding on to his wrist (did it count as holding hands?) and it was nice, and he couldn't possibly need to pee so badly that he can't wait for 40mins? He crossed his bare legs tight, moving his left leg roughly over his right. The friction felt nice against his crotch. Well, he'll just have to cross his legs and hold it through the last two innings - what choice did he have? His bladder will have to take it. Surely you can always wait if you have no other choice?

As the seventh innings wore on, Paul became more and more uncomfortable. His bladder was stretched, trying to push its way out of his abdomen, the waistband digging in to the bulge. He can barely think of anything else other than how good a piss would feel. He crosses his legs a little tighter, and pulls the shorts up. No relief. Dammit. He is starting to doubt if his bladder is big enough for this flood - he is already past the point where he would water the trees on a road trip. And there was still 30 mins to go.

A kid in the row in front is slurping his drink, the sound loud and clear in the lull of play. A sharp pang washed over him, the three litres of soda insisting on leaving. He ground his crotch against the seat, trying to get it to press against the base of his dick. As the kid slurrped loudly, again, another jolt went through him. His toes curled inside the blue slippers from the effort of waiting. He needed to make a run for the loos right now.

He scissorred his crossed legs, trying to gain some traction. He needed to pee so badly, he was afraid he would go all over his pants if he stood up suddenly. He bent forwards as a wave of desperation washed over him. He could feel the hard ball of rocks that was his bladder when he bent forwards. The black shorts were digging painfully in to his bulging bladder, but his bladder was so full it wouldn't give way. Everytime he moved there was a jolt through him and he could feel the liquid slosh inside him, trying to force their way out.

As the seventh innings came to a close, he stood up. He pulled at Greg, trying to force him to unhand him. His hand was balled in to fists, clutching his red t-shirt, as if if only he could hold his shirt tightly enough his spinchter would hold too. But Greg refused to let him go, yanking him down instead.

"Greg, I really really need to pee. I can't wait any more!"

"Oh come on man, surely you can wait the last innings out"

"No, I can't. I must pee now" he said through gritted teeth. He was utterly humiliated about admitting it, but the thought of wetting his pants was worse. His bladder was rock hard now, filled to the brim with the 3 litres of soda he had consumed. And even his bladder had it's limits. He couldn't imagine waiting another second with this ball of piss inside him. It HAD to go.

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On 5/7/2019 at 9:08 AM, Mad Bladder said:

Awesome

 

13 hours ago, gottliebeln said:

this is great!

Glad to know you're enjoy this!

On 5/7/2019 at 11:59 AM, huberp76 said:

Great story, thank you!

Greg should Paul make hold it longer, his bladder can never be full enough.

I love it that Paul wears shorts, he should cross his nude legs and hold it.

He is a big boy and he has a big bladder.

He is a big boy, isn't he? 😄 He's gonna be waiting for a while I think ...

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5 hours ago, Mickey said:

 

Glad to know you're enjoy this!

He is a big boy, isn't he? 😄 He's gonna be waiting for a while I think ...

Yes, Paul is a big boy with a short and  bare legs. Greg want´s to see this bare legs tight crossed from needing to pee so bad, he wants to see Pauls belly swollen from his big overfilled bladder.

Paul can hold more, you think right "he´s gonna be waiting for a while", make him hold!

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Scene-4: The limits of the human bladder

Paul had no choice but admit just how badly he needs to pee. His bladder was starting to really hurt. He couldn't possibly wait another minute, let alone another full innings! He would be pissing uncontrollably in his shorts any second now - his spinchter was just so tired of the wait, forced to hold back the weight of so much soda! He would beg Greg if that got him relief. He needed relief, right now

"Oh don't be a baby! Just wait till the game ends. It's just one more innings"

He felt his bladder throb and pulse, telling him one more innings would be too much, he really needed to pee NOW.

"I am dying here Greg. I have never needed to pee so badly in my life. I can't wait" he stuttered. His overwhelming need was still managing to increase in urgency each passing second. He ground his thighs together, searching for some relief. But Greg was holding on to him tight.

"Oh come on! It's just one more innings. Just cross your legs and wait - you can surely hold on if you just try!"

"I have done that for the last two innings! I can't anymore" - his legs were shaking from being crossed so tight and fuck he really was on the verge of pissing himself.

"The human bladder is larger than you think! Did you know we experience the urge to pee when our bladders are only a quarter full? You're nowhere full enough to pee yourself involuntarily. Your bladder has plenty of room still - you're just not aware of it. So just sit back down, cross your legs and wait." 

"I have needed to pee for a long time Greg. Please let me go pee?". The desperation was clear in his voice, his whole body shaking from the effort of holding on. He was definitely more than a quarter full. He was probably a quarter full back in the second innings! Just thinking about his bladder made him shudder. He clutched at his dick, trying to physically lock the doors of escape for his pent up pee. Paul was definitely past the phase where he could hide his need - no point in being ashamed now. His legs were crossed together, body bent forwards. He was embarrassed by his need, but he knew pissing himself would be worse.

"How old are you again!? Who can't wait for just 20 minutes unless like they're 3 year old?" Greg sounded annoyed now. Paul's cheeks were bright red. Yes, he was being a baby. But he needed to pee so so badly! Just then the sprinklers went on in the neighbouring soccer field. Fuck. Watching all that water being released was just too much for him. His legs started trembling uncontrollably from the sheer desperation of his situation. He quickly sat down and used both his hands to give his cock a good squeeze. 20 mins. 20 mins. He could do this. He must do this.

Though he felt like his bladder had no more room, but surely it could accommodate a bit more? His poor swollen bladder spasmed violently, sending him desperate signals to void. But he held on. He would see this game through. He has to.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Greg couldn't believe his luck! Paul was clearly bursting! He was sitting on the edge of his seat, grinding his dick down. He must have needed to pee really really badly because he had used both hands to clutch at his long suffering dick - completely oblivious to the fact that Greg's hand was still on his wrist. Greg had finally left his wrist when he realized Paul intended to keep his hands firmly on his lap, pushing down against the base of his dick, near at hand to crush his dick whenever the urge to pee became particularly bad.

He was squirming with abandon now, as if his need outweighed any sense of decorum. He was holding his entire body stiffly, as if every ounce of concentration was required to keep that one door closed.

"I need to pee too, okay? I have needed to from the fourth innings. We can run to the loos as soon as the match ends, okay?" Greg rubbed his hand over Paul's tense shoulders trying to get him to relax. It was half true anyway - he did need to pee quite a bit. Normally he would have paid a visit to the men's room long ago - but he was enjoying Paul's predicament way too much to give in to his own needs. There would be no running to the loos if he could help it, but Paul didn't need to know that.

"I really can't wait Greg! Please let me go pee now. I have to pee so bad"

"Just a few more minutes! Come on, the game has heated up so much! Just concentrate on that"

A whimper of pain escaped Paul's lips as he slammed his thighs closer together. He was clearly in need of a massive piss. Greg was impressed by his bulging bladder. He had never seen anyone sport such a bulge in real life. 

"I need to pee" Paul was whimpering, but Greg had no intention of letting him find relief. He kept his hands around Paul's shoulders, making sure there would be no further escape attempts. He had a once in a lifetime chance of making Paul pee himself. He wouldn't let it go.

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6 hours ago, Mickey said:

Scene-4: The limits of the human bladder

Paul had no choice but admit just how badly he needs to pee. His bladder was starting to really hurt. He couldn't possibly wait another minute, let alone another full innings! He would be pissing uncontrollably in his shorts any second now - his spinchter was just so tired of the wait, forced to hold back the weight of so much soda! He would beg Greg if that got him relief. He needed relief, right now

"Oh don't be a baby! Just wait till the game ends. It's just one more innings"

He felt his bladder throb and pulse, telling him one more innings would be too much, he really needed to pee NOW.

"I am dying here Greg. I have never needed to pee so badly in my life. I can't wait" he stuttered. His overwhelming need was still managing to increase in urgency each passing second. He ground his thighs together, searching for some relief. But Greg was holding on to him tight.

"Oh come on! It's just one more innings. Just cross your legs and wait - you can surely hold on if you just try!"

"I have done that for the last two innings! I can't anymore" - his legs were shaking from being crossed so tight and fuck he really was on the verge of pissing himself.

"The human bladder is larger than you think! Did you know we experience the urge to pee when our bladders are only a quarter full? You're nowhere full enough to pee yourself involuntarily. Your bladder has plenty of room still - you're just not aware of it. So just sit back down, cross your legs and wait." 

"I have needed to pee for a long time Greg. Please let me go pee?". The desperation was clear in his voice, his whole body shaking from the effort of holding on. He was definitely more than a quarter full. He was probably a quarter full back in the second innings! Just thinking about his bladder made him shudder. He clutched at his dick, trying to physically lock the doors of escape for his pent up pee. Paul was definitely past the phase where he could hide his need - no point in being ashamed now. His legs were crossed together, body bent forwards. He was embarrassed by his need, but he knew pissing himself would be worse.

"How old are you again!? Who can't wait for just 20 minutes unless like they're 3 year old?" Greg sounded annoyed now. Paul's cheeks were bright red. Yes, he was being a baby. But he needed to pee so so badly! Just then the sprinklers went on in the neighbouring soccer field. Fuck. Watching all that water being released was just too much for him. His legs started trembling uncontrollably from the sheer desperation of his situation. He quickly sat down and used both his hands to give his cock a good squeeze. 20 mins. 20 mins. He could do this. He must do this.

Though he felt like his bladder had no more room, but surely it could accommodate a bit more? His poor swollen bladder spasmed violently, sending him desperate signals to void. But he held on. He would see this game through. He has to.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Greg couldn't believe his luck! Paul was clearly bursting! He was sitting on the edge of his seat, grinding his dick down. He must have needed to pee really really badly because he had used both hands to clutch at his long suffering dick - completely oblivious to the fact that Greg's hand was still on his wrist. Greg had finally left his wrist when he realized Paul intended to keep his hands firmly on his lap, pushing down against the base of his dick, near at hand to crush his dick whenever the urge to pee became particularly bad.

He was squirming with abandon now, as if his need outweighed any sense of decorum. He was holding his entire body stiffly, as if every ounce of concentration was required to keep that one door closed.

"I need to pee too, okay? I have needed to from the fourth innings. We can run to the loos as soon as the match ends, okay?" Greg rubbed his hand over Paul's tense shoulders trying to get him to relax. It was half true anyway - he did need to pee quite a bit. Normally he would have paid a visit to the men's room long ago - but he was enjoying Paul's predicament way too much to give in to his own needs. There would be no running to the loos if he could help it, but Paul didn't need to know that.

"I really can't wait Greg! Please let me go pee now. I have to pee so bad"

"Just a few more minutes! Come on, the game has heated up so much! Just concentrate on that"

A whimper of pain escaped Paul's lips as he slammed his thighs closer together. He was clearly in need of a massive piss. Greg was impressed by his bulging bladder. He had never seen anyone sport such a bulge in real life. 

"I need to pee" Paul was whimpering, but Greg had no intention of letting him find relief. He kept his hands around Paul's shoulders, making sure there would be no further escape attempts. He had a once in a lifetime chance of making Paul pee himself. He wouldn't let it go.

Easily the best male desperation story on this site.  I will argue to the end of time on that.  This is the best 

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Scene-5: Game Over!

Paul could feel all the soda pushing down against his spinchter, begging for release. His legs were crossed tight, but that was hardly any relief. He squirmed around, trying to find a more comfortable position but that only jolted his bladder. All the liquids sloshed inside him, making his urge even worse. Fuck. 

The pitcher was taking his time to walk up to the mound. Paul wanted to scream at him to hurry the fuck up. He would piss himself if he had to wait much longer. He looked around surreptitiously, looking for ways to escape his torture. He could just walk away, couldn't he? I mean, not like Greg was his dom or something. (Though he wouldn't mind that at all now, would he?) His bladder spasmed, urging him to make a run for it. But no, he did promise Greg he'll watch a match with him. He owed Greg. No, he must suffer through this.

Finally the pitcher threw the ball. The batter didn't even bother swinging. Ugh! Just great. As another wave of desperation washed over him, he put a hand through his pocket, and squeezed his dick shut. That just about kept it all in. He had never been this desperate in his life! He crossed his legs the other way - not like that helped, but it was something.

The pitcher threw again. Strike one. They took their own sweet time getting ready, fielders being repositioned. Paul was really freaking out now. A spurt had almost escaped his death grip. He bent forward at the waist and ground his crotch against the seat. He looked longingly at the soda cup. It was one of those monstrous ones. It would hold the flood inside him. Oh what wouldn't he give to just aim in to that, and let it all go! But there were so many people watching h!

He drew his legs up to his chest and hunched forward, rocking back and forth very gently. He was beyond desperate, and beyond humiliated. He was doing a pee pee dance in front of a whole baseball stadium. Ok, so may be a mostly empty baseball stadium - but it was still a whole lot of people. As another wave rocked his spinchter, he decided he would just get up and fucking go. The match was apparently delicately poised - Greg would surely not notice him slipping out!

As he put his feet down again, he caught Greg's eyes, looking at him with uncontrolled lust. Fuck. Was Greg actually enjoying this!? His dick twitched at the thought. Greg quickly looked away towards the field where the batter had just striked out again. However Paul was sure he was watching him from the corner of his eyes.

A sharp ache brought him out of his thoughts. He cradled his bladder - it was rock hard, packed tight with all the piss. The waistband of his short was digging in to his overfull organ. He tried pulling it up - but the pressure just shifted to a different region in his bladder. Shit, he was just about to burst. Just the thought of not being able to hold his urges brought a flush of color to his cheek. So what if he had been practically desperate to piss for an hour? He could do this! The game was just about to end!

He decided to concentrate on Greg, try and forget the other people probably watching his little pee pee dance. Paul closed his eyes, focusing on the memory of Greg's lust filled eyes. Heat pooled in his stomach, inspite of the sharp cramps and the dull ache that was his bursting bladder. He palmed his crotch, putting pressure directly on the base of his cock. Ah, that felt good. He leaned back to give his bladder room to expand and shamelessly pressed his groin against the seat, massaging it, hoping and praying for the match to end soon.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

If Greg hadn't been so busy staring at Paul, he would have noticed the home run that won the match in dramatic fashion. But he was far more interested in the drama beside him.

Paul was leaning back in his seat and crushing his dick against the chair, in an utterly desperate pee dance. His toes were curled inwards - the blue flip flops showing them clearly. It like like even his toes were trying to hold on to the edges of control. His red t-shirt had ridden up a little as he leant back, revealing the outline of his bursting bladder. Greg couldn't even imagine how badly Paul must need to relieve himself. His entire body was taut, at bursting point. Greg imagined Paul's black shorts getting soaked with pee, a little at first, a lot more later! He was becoming semi-hard just thinking about it. Fuck.

As the deafening cheers (and groans) went out around the stadium, Paul opened his eyes. You could tell he was in real pain, but he didn't immediately make a run for it. He squeezed his dick, declaring in a strangled voice "Finally! Can I fucking piss now?"

Was he asking for permission? This wasn't helping Little Greg's composure. 

"I almost burst here while they took their time with the final play. I need to piss. Right now, or I'll be peeing all over these stands"

Paul stood up, and immediately bent double. He regained his composure with a few well placed squeezes and started waddling his way to the end of the empty row, towards salvation. Dick firmly clutched. He looked on the edge of despair, but about to make it. There was relief clearly written over his face, obvious how much he was looking forward to finally pissing. No, Greg couldn't let him go so easily - his bladder wasn't full enough to deserve relief just yet!

Greg reached out and pulled him in to a hug instead, with an arm around Paul's waist. He was screaming "We won, we won!" pretending like he hadn't heard a word Paul said. His fingertips were right over Paul's rock hard bladder - he could feel the tight little mound. He was tempted to press down on the bulge and hear Paul moan, but he resisted the urge - that would give the game away. Paul was squirming deliciously in his arms - that was enough. For a first time at least! And Paul's bladder was being tortured enough without any intervention. He would enjoy they the show ...

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Author's Note - The next few scenes might not turn up for a while. Real life is gonna get pretty busy, and it doesn't help that the next few scenes are even more out of my comfort zone than this has already been 🙂

So apologies, if I keep you waiting (so to speak) ...

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It is really bad to get aroused from Paul’s painful urge to pee, but I love it!

It is so hot, that he had to hold it for so long even he needed to go so bad, it is so hot that he did only wear a T shirt and shorts, I hope this shorts was short, and it was so hot to see his swollen belly and his bulging bladder.

Great story, thank you.

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On 5/17/2019 at 4:49 AM, huberp76 said:

It is really bad to get aroused from Paul’s painful urge to pee, but I love it!

It is so hot, that he had to hold it for so long even he needed to go so bad, it is so hot that he did only wear a T shirt and shorts, I hope this shorts was short, and it was so hot to see his swollen belly and his bulging bladder.

Great story, thank you.

It’s fiction though, we’re not doing it to people in real life.  Like if you saw this happening from afar in real life maybe it turns you on but if you also feel bad for him you’re fine.  

Edited by Mad Bladder (see edit history)
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