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  1. "Come on move it damn it! Move!" cried Constance while blaring her horn. She shuffled in her seat constantly as her anxiety and frantic behavior rose. She was in a hurry, desperate and severely so. But her protests fell on deaf ears by the traffic light ever determined to stay red for Constance while allowing the perpendicular traffic right of way. Today Constance was in a hurry to meet a client all while holding her ever growing ocean of gold. Her bladder was contracting and imposing its will to release the payload downwards, against her tortured exit pee hole. It quivered as it tried to hold back the ever growing ocean. The pressure and pain was felt ever more with each passing second. The waves of desperation becoming unbearable and all she wanted was relief. This whole week she had been forced to take on more clients and over time due to the influx of new people to the area. Plus, the workplace building was undergoing renovations and only one bathroom was available. And since she was the best real estate agent at her firm, she was being sent on numerous assignments by the higher ups seeking to make a killing this month. Clients were asking for the best of the best. Who better than Constance, the best in the county. She enjoyed being trusted and reliable but now that fame was overworking her. She barely had any time to greet and talk with her trusty maid. Gayle always showed up at an empty house this week. She did her job as required but she felt a little nervous about being inside such a quiet home. Life just went on as usual. But for now, Constance was in a major rush. Her heart raced and sweat emerged from her forehead, her face turning rosy red, and scrunching from trying to hold it in. She blared her horn for the light turn green a dew more times, shifting around her seat, shuffling her left foot back and forth. The pain was uncomfortable. Every time she went to go for the bathroom, her boss intercepted or called her for another rush job to meet a prospective client. All of them were urgent and had to be seen on the double. There was no room for stopping for even a moment. The company reputation was on the line. And since she was the best, she HAD to go see the client and the property in question. This whole week specifically was a killer on her both physically and mentally. Sometimes, she had to stay up with coffee or soda, crashed in the middle of the night, then awake bursting to use the bathroom in the morning (not go for the whole day), drink lots of coffee to stay awake plus more insisted upon by her boss to be in 100%++ shape, and only go once she came back to the office at last, or when she came home, just spurting in her undergarment. Yesterday, she came home running to her front door, struggling to properly open it, and becoming more antsy with the door, started to spurt jets of her golden nectar. She struggled a bit more until she opened it, ran inside and finally undid her pants and sat on the toilet (all while spurting more jets of her piss until fully on the toilet seat by which she had already began urinating a small stream) and relaxed herself. It was spraying out what was the pressure inside a fire hose. She felt so drained and hated this feeling. She felt overworked and tired. Even after explaining to her boss, it didn't change anything. She couldn't understand why her boss was putting her on over over drive. He did pay the over time of course but that wasn't the point. And of course she cleaned up the mess on the toilet seat and the floor, followed by a shower. She left her damaged panties and work trousers neatly folded with a sticky note for Gayle. Afterwards, she began eating dinner but midway, she got a call to meet with another client. It was as another closing which pissed her off. She tried to explain to her boss it was passed her work schedule but her boss vehemently insisted she go and he couldn't take back his word to the client. She was booked for this and had to go. Her dinner wasn't even half done and now she had to go back to work. The closing was another 3 hours by which point she was tired and didn't even change her clothes. She went straight to bed when she returned home. The next morning she awoke very late and had to get to work. She washed up, flossed and brushed her teeth, quickly brushed her hair, and ran out the door. She drove 15 miles passed the speed limit and arrived 10 minutes late to work. Her boss was furious but said he would talk about it later. Right now she had to meet with a client at the client's house. Constance tried to ask for the bathroom but her boss didn't get a chance to speak. He hurried her over to her car, shoved some paperwork with an address and name, and the key to the house. She was to meet the client in an hour and the drive was two hours away. The client was returning from a business trip and set to return in an hour too. The client was a well respected member of the top richest residence and expected the very best. He was also friends with the man who ran the real estate agency firm Constance worked at. That being her boss. She tried to get in one word about taking a trip to the bathroom but alas her boss made it clear bathroom breaks were off limits until the client was satisfied. So Constance made the drive making good time driving at 80 miles per hour on the freeway. She bypassed the rush hour morning traffic and took the exit for the client's home. But after 2 minutes she encountered traffic galore and every traffic light she approached turned red. Each time it turned red it took forever to turn green. One after another was a traffic light turning red, or drivers slowing down traffic for making a turn or allowing traffic to enter the turnpike. For Constance it was maddening. She was now bursting even more now. When she awoke she didn't make a trip to the bathroom and at work she didn't get a chance too. Her boss did have her drink another large coffee and the strongest ones ever to keep her awake. But that coffee was now starting to affect her already bursting bladder. Currently, Constance remained stationary at a traffic light behind a bus for disabled elderly and shifting around in her seat while fighting her urge to go, and still another 10 miles away. But the turnpike was crowded now and she was behind the bus which road at a slow speed to arrive at each and every pick up. This was going to be a doosey. She blared her horn to make the light turn green put of frustration and desperation. The traffic from the perpendicular avenue had right of way and spent two minutes going in both directions. Each and every second that passed was torture for her as she witnessed the traffic able to move while she was forced to remain stationary. Her mind was flooded signals about relief. Suddenly, the perpendicular traffic came to a stop and now the traffic making a left turn had right of way but her and other traffic waiting to move forward still couldn't move. This was agonizing. "Damn light turn-ohnononononoogawdno!" Constance cried out inside her car. After 30 seconds, the light turned red, then green. Finally, the traffic could move. But the bus in front didn't move yet as a passenger was getting. Other cars behind kept blaring their horn but the bus driver didn't budge. After 29 seconds, the bus began to move and Constance followed right behind. Her heart raced along with her mind to get to the property and take a toilet break. It was only another 30 minutes away but she had 15 minutes left. She overtook the bus driver and picked up speed. Luckily no cops were around. She sped past several stores, homes, and traffic lights. No one stood in her way now. Fast forward 12 minutes later, she was almost at the intersection to make a left. However, another obstacle appeared. It came in the form of a huge moving truck. She came to a screeching stop and she blared her horn to make the trucker move. The trucker moved clever so slowly. Constance was on the verge of having an accident as she was fighting a wave of desperation that wouldn't go away and fighting to hold it back wasn't working. All that coffee was now making itself known pounding on the exit door for freedom. Constance couldn't take it anymore. "Moveitmoveitmoveit!" she cried like a school girl. She had to go so badly. The trucker finally made the turn and Constance made the right speeding down the street to the client's house. "Whereisitwhereisitwhereis-ah here it is!". Outside was the property of 400 Gates Boulevard. It was a huge mansion with Corinthian pillars made of pure white, surrounded by a wash of navy blue for the shingles covering the outside. The windows were a marvelous clear, transparent material that displayed the design of the curtains covering them. The client was a very private person. She got out, taking the key to the property, and made her way to the front door. She hobbled while running to the front door, trying to stay dry. At one point, she stopped and held her crotch which she never did in her life. Not even in her youth or as a child. She bobbed up and down, then stopped while gritting her teeth as she squinted her eyes closed to fight off the urge to pee. She had to go and now, and waiting wasn't an option. She couldn't wait. She just couldn't wait. Her exit hole was about to burst open under the pressure. She had to act fast. She sucked in air and contracted her muscles to hold it in. She made her way to the front door, and attempted to put the key into the door key hole. As she put it inside, she noticed resistance. "What?" Constance thought. She giggled the key in the hole but it didn't move further nor come out so easily. It dawned on her the key didn't fit. But how was this possible she wondered. Her boss gave the key and certainly he wouldn't give the wrong key, or did he. Constance became even more annoyed and called her boss. She took her phone shakily from her pocket, opened her phone screen, opened up the contacts app, clicked on her boss and called his number. "Hello yes I'm a-at the p-property for one ... Mr. Jameson. The k-key doesn't fit in the doorknob-" She was cut short by her boss. "I was just about to call you and tell you the client handed us the wrong key. Unfortunately the client has it somewhere inside the house." Constance was flabbergasted and more annoyed. The client didn't even give the right key to the house? How is the person supposed to get inside? Her boss continued. "The client changed the locks a few days ago due to a burglary and gave us the wrong key by mistake. Also, the client said he was going to be late due to traffic at the freeway. He is on his way within 20 minutes. So just sit there and wait for him!" Just as Constance was about to ask for the bathroom, her boss said he would be in a two-hour meeting and would have his phone turned off. Then he hung up. Constance cried "Wait!" But it was too late. He was off the phone. She was left stranded and bursting. She was about to have a pissing accident and it couldn't be stopped once the flood was unleashed. Constance threw her phone in anger and went back to her car. She couldn't believe it. The wrong key was given to her and now she was in the middle of waiting for the client. This person could show up anytime and if she left for the bathroom while he showed up forget it. Plus, if he showed up she could use his bathroom quickly. She waited for the next several minutes hoping he would show up so she could take a piss. She needed it so badly and sitting down wasn't enough for relief. She shuffled her feet and rocked back and forth in her seat. She hadn't felt this desperate in her life. Not even that time she was locked out from her bedroom and almost struck by lightning was she this desperate.
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