biblio474

I also vote for 2. And hope that instead of throwing the piss out of the cup, she tosses the whole cup, denying the other ladies access to it.

3. Seems like it could keep the mood high since they aren't so enthused by the bands.

I can still vividly remember a time an ex-girlfriend peed on me in desperation (let's call her Ashley). We were on a trip together staying at an inn with a hotel bar. Since neither of us had to drive and our room was just upstairs, we were both uninhibited in our alcohol consumption and ended up quite tipsy. When playful chatting became overt innuendo, we left the bar and went back to our room. I'm not sure we even got the door fully closed before our hands were all over each other. While kissing her, I reached under her skirt, gave her a squeeze, and guided her over to the bed. We made out for a few minutes, but then as things started to get heavy, she interrupted me: "before things go any further, I really have to pee". I was both disappointed that things were suddenly de-escalating in the bed, but aroused that she had to pee (and so openly announced it to me at that moment). I didn't want things to stop and pleaded with her not to go (it actually turned me on to know that she was desperate). I rolled off of her, but kept kissing her. She stepped off the bed and I followed her into the bathroom closely in tow. As Ashley turned to sit down onto the toilet, I was feeling bold and aroused. Without really even thinking about it I brought my hand around the back of her, between her legs, and grabbed her pussy with a cupped hand. Really this all happened in one motion (her sitting and my interception) so I ended up with her sitting forward on a toilet seat with my hand cupping her pussy. I started to massage her pussy with my cupped hand and played with her breasts with the other. I think she might have been turned on a little, but over-riding this was a larger need to pee. "Greg, I really need to pee!", she screamed at me. She continued "Do you know how hard it is to be sitting on a toilet and not be able to pee?" I ignored her and continued to rub her pussy. "Greg, I swear I am going to pee on you if you don't stop". I thought that this was just conjecture. "I'm serious!" she screamed, but I still continued. It must have been only 15 seconds later when I felt a small, warm wetness moisten my hand. It wasn't that much, but it was clear that Ashley peed a little bit while I was holding her. Either Ashley didn't realize that she had leaked or played this off casually, because she continued as before with no acknowledgement of what had just happened --- "if you don't let go, I'm going to pee on you." To me, this was not much of a threat and I was extremely turned on, so I continued to massage her, despite her playful pleas. Another 20 seconds and I felt a little more warmth and wetness across my fingers. I did not stop. Ashley continued her threats, but I didn't notice the shift in her language. Up to this point she had said: "Stop or I'll pee on you", or "please its hard to hold it". I didn't think anything of it when she said "I'm going to pee". However, this was not a plea for me to let go but a short forewarning of the coming flood. I continued to massage her when all of a sudden I felt a cascade of urine pouring onto my hand and through my fingers. It was strong and made a loud hissing/gurgling as the stream collided with my cupped hand. It came with such sudden ferocity that I recoiled in surprise. As I pulled my hand back instinctively, Ashley used this opportunity to scoot back on the seat, stopping me from grabbing her again (which I might have). I wish I had not recoiled and continued to play with her stream, but it was still amazing, and the first time I've ever had a woman pee on me. After recoiling my hand, Ashley looked at me and said "I TOLD you that I was going to pee on you! Go wash yourself up. This is your fault." She must have thought I was disgusted. I didn't tell her otherwise. _______ I was going to leave this story here, but I remembered this was the same girlfriend that I accidentally peed on. We were way off in the woods at a remote campsite. We had just finished lunch and I excused myself to go pee. Ashley came with me looking expectantly. "What, do you want to watch?" I said somewhat sarcastically. She said nothing, but continued to stare at me. I took out my dick and she nestled up to me and grabbed my shaft. She started to gently stroke me. Since she was massaging my shaft and not the tip, and I had declared that I was going to pee I started to urinate. Just at that moment Ashley shifted her fingers up my shaft to the tip. I had started to go pretty full force just as her fingers crossed into my stream. In that moment I felt my urine spray back as it ricocheted off of her hand. She pulled back with dripping fingers. She went on: "you peed on me". "I told you I was going to pee, and I didn't know you were going to grab me right then," I replied. I stopped chatting and finished up peeing.She ran to go wash her hands with a water bottle. Remembering this, her response to my actions make more sense.

When I was 14 my family took a trip out to a day spa. We planned to spend the whole day there. When we checked in, they tried to sell us add-ons. Being young and easy to sell to, they convinced me to get a massage. I asked my parents and they agreed that I could get one as long as I paid for half from my savings. They marked me down for a session in the afternoon. I spent the morning wandering from pool to pool mostly on my own. There were fruit-infused waters placed all around the complex. I liked how they tasted and kept drinking them. I'm a little ashamed to admit it, but I pee in pools and as I felt the need throughout the day, I just went. As a result I never really realized how much I was drinking and how much this would (if not in the water) make me have to go. In the early afternoon I met up with my family to eat not too long before my massage. No idea what I ate, but I still remember that I drank iced tea with the meal. I am sure that this was part of my downfall --caffeine and extra liquid on top of what I had been consuming all day. Over the course of a relatively quick lunch I felt my bladder filling quickly, but at the moment I had no worries or even thought to my bladder situation. Lunch finished up about 15 minutes before my massage appointment time. On my way over to the massage area I stopped by the bathroom and let out a flood. It was absolutely clear, strong, but also a long stream. I checked in with the massage attendant who said that my massage therapist would be with me shortly. As I sat on the bench in the waiting room, I started to feel the need to pee again. I had just gone only a few minutes before, but the need had emerged rapidly. I sat there mulling over whether I would go again and eventually decided that I would. However, just as I stood up to walk over to the bathroom, I was greeted by a bubbly, stunning young women. She was gorgeous, maybe still in high school or maybe in college (I couldn't tell), red hair, smooth skin, and a tight fitting polo shirt that accentuated her breasts. "Hi, I'm Allison! You must be Greg! I'm excited to assist you today!" (Really everything did end in an exclamation point). I immediately jettisoned my plan to go to the bathroom and followed her to a room off of the waiting area. The treatment I had selected was an acne facial and neck massage. She had me lie down in a slightly inclined chair with my neck nestled in a well-shaped nook. She asked me if I had been to this spa. I told her I had not. She told me that I was in for a treat and explained that she would start with application of a base layer, let that sit, work on my neck, then remove the facial treatment. What she didn't tell me was that she was about to place warm electric mittens on my hands and a warming pad on my stomach. As soon as she put these on I became acutely aware of my need to pee, and that was a really bad thing since we just got started. It never really even crossed my mind to stop and ask to use the bathroom. I was too flustered by the incredibly hot massage therapist working with me. In my mind my only choice was to hold it even though there was a bathroom 40 feet away. After applying the warming pads, Allison started to prepare the facial treatment. I vividly remember her leaning over me to start gently massaging my skin. The way she was leaning, her breasts were hanging maybe only a foot away from my face. I was a teenager, so I remember feeling aroused, but also aware of my need to pee.I wanted to grab myself for 2 reasons, but 1) I was in warming mitts, and 2) there was an attractive woman right there. Anyway, the next little bit was a blur for me. I remember her finishing the facial application (it actually was many layers) and feeling a rapid increase in bladder pressure. When she told me that this had to dry for a while, I'm sure I winced. The words "a while" drove home my predicament. While I had some worry up to that point, it was that moment when panic set in. I tried not to make this panic externally visible, but with the constant pain in my bladder (amplified by the weight and heat of the pads on me) I knew that I might not make it. Actually it wasn't a "might not feeling", I panicked as I knew I would not make it. To make matters worse, I felt physically constrained with the heating pads and a facial that made it somewhat difficult to see. The thought of excusing myself may have crossed my mind, but was overpowered by a 'plan' to wait until the facial was off and then go. The plan made no sense, since that would likely be at the end of the massage, but that's a 14-year-old's brain for you. Allison started my massage which included warm stones and her hands. I couldn't enjoy anything as I sat there in complete pain. All of my energy was focused on not peeing and making it look like I didn't have to pee. I'm sure my face was making some sort of weird contortions.This took all of my concentration. I'm sure she noticed something was going on, but she was obviously too professional and said something like "you look tense". I don't think I said anything to that. At some point in the massage, despite all my concentration, I started to feel it happen. I felt myself getting to what I knew was the edge of control. I can't exactly describe the feeling, but even though I had not leaked, I could feel my muscles weakening and had the sense that my urine was right up against the exit of my bladder ready to escape. I knew I had to excuse myself and started thinking about how I could do his. "Ummmm Allison, I have to pee."; "I'm sorry, but I need to use the bathroom". I played different scenarios in my head, but all of them were humiliating. I knew I had to ask but was working up the courage. Then it happened. My bladder gave way. The second I felt the jet of pee hit my groin and leg, I immediately sat up. It wasn't really sitting up. I shot up, and said "I need to pee." I quickly shed my mitts and pulled the heating pad off of my stomach. I bolted out of the room, across the waiting area, and into the thankfully free bathroom. To be honest, in the heat of things, I don't know how long I lost control for. However, after using the bathroom I looked down and saw several wet streaks down my leg and my last couple of footsteps in bare feet had left a faint wet outline. I was relieved but wanted to die right there. I didn't want to go back into the massage but she had my things and my face was still covered in a mask. I didn't want to face Allison, but I knew I had to. I sat in the bathroom for a minute cleaning off my legs and the two footprints, walked across the waiting area, and then entered the room. I didn't really know what would happen next. I wanted to play it cool. I wanted to casually say: "Sorry Allison, I really had to go." However, instead of coming off cool and casual, I said the same words, but they were interrupted by tears and a shaky voice. I'm not sure if they train the staff for this sort of situation, but Allison was generally kind about it. "It happens to the best of us," she said. "Let's get this mask off". She proceeded to gently remove the facial base. I think we ended up going a few minutes over, but she took her time. After we finished up, I started to apologize to her again (just before handing her a $20 tip). "If it makes you feel any better, I've been in your situation before." She did not elaborate and I did not ask. I doubt it was precisely my situation, but it was still a thoughtful thing to say.

One of my most humiliating pee accidents happened during a college visit my junior year of high school. My parents had set up a college visit with the daughter of a family friend. The plan was to spend a Sat/Sun at the college getting a tour from her and experiencing campus life. My parents dropped me off on campus near the main gate where I met my host. Since I had packed light (just a backpack) and it was around noon, we went straight to the dining hall for lunch. The drive up had been a couple of hours and I remember looking for the bathroom as I entered the dining hall but not seeing one. You would think if I had to pee I would have been smarter about my next actions, but I remember really liking the iced tea at the dining hall and filling up my glass at least one additional time. We were sitting with my host and a few of her friends. After I had finished my food and was sitting at the table I became acutely aware of my need to pee. My bladder was already quite full but I could literally feel it filling further. I really wanted to use the bathroom, but sitting at a table of mostly female college students I was too embarrassed to say anything. In almost any other situation I would have excused myself, but I didn't even know where the bathroom was. When everyone started to get up from the table I remember standing up and feeling physical pain as my bladder shifted. My host said that we could go to her dorm and drop off my stuff. I didn't know how far away this was, but I knew that there would be a bathroom. I knew it would be a struggle to hold on, but even at that moment I was too embarrassed to say anything. As we walked through the campus on a warm spring day I couldn't enjoy myself. The only thing I could think about was not peeing myself in the middle of a college campus. As my host said "this is my dorm", I was literally gritting my teeth. We walked up a flight of stairs, down the hall and paused as she got out her key. I wanted to blurt out that I needed to pee right away, but waited for her to show me around. The dorm room was actually a suite with 2 bedrooms, a common area, and a bathroom (she had not shown me the bathroom, but I saw it clearly labeled next to the common area). After putting down my stuff, I sheepishly told my host that I needed to use the bathroom. I walked to the handle, turned it, but could not open it up. Absolutely at my limit, I asked "how do I get this open". She walked over and said that her roommate must be showering. My bladder was at its very limit and I wanted to ask if there was another bathroom, but before I could, my host said "but she will probably be out soon." My host said that she just wanted to change her clothes and would be back out in a few minutes. I was left in the suite bursting. As soon as she was out of sight I held myself through my pants. If there had been a kitchenette I swear I would have peed in the sink despite the risks, but there was just a living area. I was trapped. I waited and waited for the bathroom door to open. I had controlled my breathing and was trying to stay calm, but then it suddenly happened. A spurt of pee escaped into my jeans. I was not calm anymore. I started to panic. I squeezed myself even harder through my pants, but a moment later, I lost control again. This happened maybe two more times until I just couldn't hold it any longer and started straight up peeing my pants. I hadn't even been considering my surroundings until all of a sudden I heard the bedroom door open. As my host walked out of the room I looked over in shock to see her face equally shocked. There I was standing in her living room in pee soaked jeans. I immediately began to cry and apologize. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," I remember saying. She was extremely gracious. She hurried me into her room grabbed a towel and trash bag from the closet and told me I could put my things in there while she cleaned up. She assured me that she wouldn't tell anyone that it would be ok. I was humiliated, but she was so kind to me following this incident. I don't even think her roommate knew what happened.

Thinking back over our many years dating each other, there have been a number of instances where my fiancee has gotten to the point of extreme desperation. I'll share some of these stories over the coming months. This summer, we were on vacation with a couple friends in Europe. We were out having a good time at the pub. Over the course of a few hours we all had a few pints. It was around midnight and the pub was closing soon; I got up to go to the bathroom. When I came back my friends were getting up and grabbing their things. After we had stepped outside, my fiancee asked "Should I go pee? I have to pee? Should I go back inside?". I emphatically answered "Yes" (I'm not a terrible person and if I had to pee before a 45 minute trip home, I certainly wouldn't want someone to tell me I shouldn't). Our friends said "Yes" as well. However. my fiancee was wavering "I think they have closed. I don't want to go in when they have closed. I can hold it". We continued to stand outside talking when she said: "Stop chatting lets go". Our journey back involved a 10 minute walk to the tube, a 20 minute tube ride and a 15 minute walk back. From the get-go my fiancee was moving like a woman on a mission. I generally am a fast walker but I had to rush to keep up. As we approached the tube entrance there was a larger boulevard with some cross-traffic. My fiancee aggressively jaywalked. As we descended the escalator at the station, she announced her needs to us "I should have gone at the pub". She was holding her thighs together. Towards the bottom of the escalator I saw her grab her crotch. We got on the train and we were the only people in the section. Even though there were plenty of seats, we all were standing (after sitting at the bar for a few hours it felt good to stand). After a minute of standing, my fiancee declared that she needed to sit "or else I am going to pee all over this train". As an aside, I didn't know it worked like that. I didn't know that sitting relieved some of the pressure for women; for me standing would put a lot less strain on my bladder, but she was sure that this would keep her from losing control. Although she went to sit, the rest of us continued to stand and chat. I tried not to make it obvious that I was interested in what was going on, but I would occasionally try to catch a glance of my fiancee. She was sitting on the chair with one of her feet perched underneath her with her heal digging into her crotch area. She was sitting on the chair slightly hunched over and about half way through the journey openly holding herself. I felt bad for her but was enjoying her desperation show. When we arrived at the train my fiancee hopped up and exited the car as soon as the doors opened. As we were headed to the exit of the station, she saw a sign for a public restroom. Her eyes lit up "Oh thank god. I don't think I could have made it home!". She was almost crying; however, her tears of joy turned to tears of desperation as she realized that the bathroom was closed (it closes before the station for some reason). "I can taste my pee", she said (I've never heard this saying before, but I can only imagine it meant she was close to peeing herself). Distraught, she headed up towards the exit. My fiancee was fairly quiet as we walked back. The only comment I can recall (several minutes after we left the station) was "I can't believe it was closed". We all knew what she was referring to. When we were about 1/3 of a mile from the hotel, I was thinking to myself how impressed I was with her sheer force of will, holding back her pee. I was suddenly jolted out of my thoughts when she screamed "I can't hold it. Guard the alley!" She dashed 10 feet away into an alley, ripped her pants down and squatted behind a trash can. Her pee stream was loud and immediate. We all stood with our backs to her, looking out towards the street, but it was glorious for me. I got to watch a desperation show and she ultimately had very little embarrassment (no actual wetting, no one on the train watching her hold herself). She was so close to making it back to the hotel (it was literally a few blocks away).

I'm not sure it is really either of those. My fiancee had a major surgery last year. After she woke up from surgery she had to stay in the hospital bed for several hours because of a device they had her connected to. They told her that they would check on her every so often, but if she needed anything like more water or a bedpan to just let them know. I sat with her for several hours in a private room as she recovered. However, it was clear fairly early on that she was desperate to pee. She was rocking her knees back and forth and could not sit still. When I asked her if she had to pee, she told me that she did but was just going to hold it. I told her that we could call the nurse for a bedpan, but she just kept holding it. I spent the next 2 hours with her exhibiting all the telltale signs of extreme desperation. At some point, I couldn't take watching her anymore and said: "I'll grab one of the nurses, you look like you really need to pee". I got the nurse, left the room, and returned 5 minutes later to a very relieved fiancee. I just don't quite understand it, but she holds it right up to the edge of disaster often without good reason. This prolonged desperation was not turning me on but making me uncomfortable. She did not seem to be enjoying it either.

I recently went hiking with my fiancee on an organized group tour while on vacation. The outfit provided a van right from our hotel to the mountain and a driver/guide that would stay with the main group to answer questions. This particular hike was an out-and-back to the top of a mountain. Staying with the group was not a requirement since the trail was obvious (there was only 1 trail) and we knew what time the van was leaving. My fiancee and I decided to hike at a slower pace than the rest of the group and were mostly on our own. I should note that almost the entire hike was above treeline (the bus dropped us off at a parking lot partway up the mountain). Anyway, the hike was great -- absolutely worth the cost of the tour with great views from the top - you could see the entire mountain range. I peed behind a small rock near the top, but by fiancee did not join me. I didn't think much of it since I pee more than her. We climbed down the mountain somewhat close to another couple members of our group (two behind us, two ahead of us). I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. The couple behind us caught up to us near the bottom. When we arrived at the van, it was 20 minutes before the scheduled departure, but since we had everyone, we headed out. The 40 minute drive to the hotel was uneventful -- I noticed nothing. When we arrived back at the hotel, there was a street festival going on. My fiancee suggested we go check it out -- her idea! Again, nothing unexpected. However, it must have been only 5 minutes later when she tugged at my arm. "I know I wanted to check out this festival, but I need to pee right now". This was literally the first point in time that I became aware of her need -- she kept incredible composure throughout the hike and on the bus. There was no discussion or conversation of her need. We hurriedly walked the 2 blocks back to the hotel. Her gait was awkward with her thighs pressed together, but still with quick steps. In the elevator, all composure was lost. "I'm going to pee myself", she said with her right hand inside of her yoga pants. Talk about 0 to 60! When we got to the hotel room door, I had my keycard out, but my first attempt at unlocking the door failed, the lock flashed red. "Fuck!" she exclaimed through gritted teeth. It opened on the next attempt. She dropped her bag on the floor right next to the door and dashed straight into the bathroom. I followed her in and in a single motion she ripped her yoga pants down, sat down, and started peeing. I am 100% sure based on when the stream started that she at least partially wet her yoga pants. Unfortunately, they were black so any wetness was impossible to see. I tried to peak at her underwear, but it was also black and I couldn't see any wet spots. I asked her later why she didn't pee during the hike. She told me that she had to pee since we were atop the mountain but hadn't found a good spot to go (to her credit it was above treeline and on the descent there were people in sight in front of us and behind us -- strangers from our hotel). I didn't push her any further, but I wonder how she was so cavalier to go on a 40 minute van ride and then suggest going to the festival when she was that desperate. The time from getting out of the van to nearly pissing herself in the bathroom was <10 minutes -- that seems like a reckless decision to hop in a vehicle. Also also am confused as to why she suggested we check out the festival when she was in such a state. This is definitely not how I would have acted.

Since becoming an adult my frequency of pee accidents has decreased. This is not because my bladder is any stronger, but because I'm better at planning. It's not that I have a small bladder -- it's not, I have filled 1L bottles -- but sometimes my body rapidly produces urine. For some people this only happens when they drink, but for me, I have not been able to figure it out. I know my bodily limitations and will take any steps to prevent an accident, even if these steps are embarrassing like peeing multiple times on a date. Anyways, I'll start by sharing an incident from my childhood: When I was 12, I went on a multi-day rafting trip with some friends. The first night we camped out right along the river, however the second night, our camp was a "short" shuttle ride away from the river. Since the weather was really hot, our guides kept telling us to drink. I had several bottles of water and was clearly hydrated. Since we were soaked by the rapids, I was frequently peeing into my bathing suit. As a result, I didn't really realize the extent to which I was over-hydrated since I never had to hold it very long. When we reached our exit point for the day, I peed one last time into the water. However, as we were packing up the rafts and getting the other equipment ready, I could feel my bladder rapidly filling up. I looked around the pickup parking lot for a bathroom but didn't see anything. I could probably have run into the woods, but I was too embarrassed. I told myself that it would be ok since it was going to be a short ride to camp and the vans were almost completely packed now. A couple moments later I hopped into the van. I was in the back row of seats, all the way on the right. Two of my friends were next to me, and another one was on the aisle just in front of me. I'm sure we chatted, but for the life of me, I cannot remember the topic of conversation. I just remember my internal thoughts -- "Hold it in, Greg. Hold it in" Although I was in extreme pain, I felt that I was doing great the first part of the ride: my bladder was aching and I remember the distinct feeling of pain in my urethra, but every mile we drove down the road was another mile closer to camp. The feeling of euphoric optimism, though, was crushed when our van came to a halt. This was a very rural area. We don't really have traffic jams. Looking out the window, I saw what was happening: there was road work which led to a one lane road. A construction worker was directing our line of cars to stop. I could handle the pain when we were moving, but stopped, it was torture. I took a deep breath, but I knew that I needed to pee NOW. Having peed myself several times before I knew the signals my body was sending me. When we started to move again, I was cautiously optimistic, but I was worried. Even if I made it to camp, how quickly could I find the bathroom. The next couple of minutes that went by were an eternity. I did everything I could to not signal my predicament. I did not hold myself. I don't remember our conversation, but I stopped contributing. I didn't want attention on me as I struggled with my bladder. A couple minutes after our first stop, there was another one lane closure. As the van sat idling in traffic and as my friends were disappointed with the delay (if only they knew my disappointment!), it happened: a leak of pee escaped from my penis. The way I was sitting, my penis was aimed to the right. I felt the warmth and wetness spread on my right quad. However, when I say leak, it isn't exactly true. As I hit my breaking point, I felt a surge of pee escape from my penis. There was a brief moment when I thought I could stem the flow, but the leak was followed almost immediately by a constant stream. My bladder was literally so full that I could not stop it. After 4 seconds of peeing on my leg I was able to stop the flow. I panicked, but my instinct for self preservation kicked in. I didn't want my friends to know what was happening. No one seemed to have heard the stream. Since I was in a bathing suit, I couldn't see any visible spot. I moved slightly in my seat to look at the seat. There was a little bit of wetness, but I scooted over again. I had survived round 1, but was still sitting there in agony. I knew I wasn't going to make it to camp without at least another mini accident, so I covertly shifted my legs and tucked my penis between them so that if I leaked it would stay contained near my seat. As the van took off again, I knew that I was at my breaking point. I needed just a little relief. I let myself pee for about 1 or 2 seconds. As I released I was monitoring the sound and my friends. No one seemed to notice. As I was releasing it felt so good, but immediately after it was torture. I couldn't stand it, and released again, this time a solid 2 seconds. Still no reaction from my friends. I hadn't noticed where the van was navigating at this point, but we turned onto a dirt road. We must be close, I was thinking and once again went into "hold it" mode, concentrating on keeping the rest of my bladder contents inside of me. The section of dirt road didn't last long, we pulled up near the river our driver stopped and said "This is where we are going to camp tonight. I'll start setting up the kitchen and bathroom area." I panicked at the last part. Our first night there was already a bathroom facility, what did he mean by set up the bathroom area? As our guide opened the van door, I knew I needed to hide the puddle on my seat. Behind the last row of seats I spotted a towel. I grabbed it and put it on the seat when I was getting up. With only one thing on my mind, I walked up to the guide and asked him "Where is the bathroom?". For emphasis (though no exaggeration) I grabbed myself. He said "I'll be setting up the composting toilet for #2, but if you need to pee, just go anywhere in the woods. Without a second thought I dashed behind the bushes. Out of sight I pulled down my swimming trunks a bit in the front. Before I could fully clear my penis out of the suit, I was going full blast. I think I literally peed for 30 seconds. The urine was completely clear. Since I was in a swimsuit, there was not really any evidence that I peed my suit. I brushed the more moist patches with some leaves. However, no one knew what happened. In my mind I called this a "close call".