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  1. I was driving home the other day from where I went a-camping West bound and up, meanwhile the tension started amping. My bladder it began to bulge, and I was getting frantic. I didn't want to wait; this really wasn't how I planned it But I sized the situation up and looked around the cab No bottles, just a million billion napkins that I had. Slightly did I move my car seat backwards on its track. My zipper went ZPPP and my button went SNAP Down my pants and underwear went my absorbent friends. And it wasn't long at all before I soaked through all of them. I felt like such a mess, but some part of it made me giddy... I touched myself until I finally pulled into my city. Only when the light came on, I saw wet piles stack up Dispose of all the evidence and zip my pants back up. A warm and cozy bath to wash the icky all away. Then I thought to myself, I'll do it all again someday...
  2. They say when you like someone, you want to spend every second with them. I’m not entirely sure how accurate that is, but I don’t remember being quite as excited as I was when Levi agreed to come over after school. He’d been new this week and I don’t know if he likes hanging out with me, or if having new friends just sounds appealing to him, but I do know that I sure do like him. I mean, how could I not? He’s practically the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen, what with his feminine build, slim waist and he’s downright tiny in height for a boy. He’s got longer black hair that’s constantly either in his light blue eyes or stuck off to the side with one of his sister’s bobby pins. His nose is what my mom likes to call ‘fairy – like’ due to how small it is in contrast to the rest of his face and he has freckles dusted under his eyes and along the bridge of his nose. Levi’s worn nothing but ripped, colored jeans and a t-shirt with some rock band’s logo on it all week and today was no exception. Today his jeans are light blue, and the band is Paramore. The jeans are the same color as the bus seats we’re sitting on and his small legs nearly blend into the design. He has his head leaning against the back of the seat his eyelids are drooping; I vaguely remember a conversation we had earlier in the week about how much he loves long car rides because they sooth his insomnia and help him sleep. “You can sleep, you know,” I tell him, “My bus stop’s the lost one and it’s nearly an hour away. I’ll wake you up when we get there.” “Okay,” he says softly, before shifting so he can rest his head against my shoulder. Smiling, I put my headphone back in and turn back to the short story I have to finish for school. Levi and I attend a performing arts high school. I’m a literary arts major, and Levi’s a musical theater major. He’d auditioned a bit late, but because it’s his senior year and his last chance at getting in, they’d let him, while I’ve been attending since seventh grade, which is the first year you can attend. The bus hits a bump in the road and Levi sits up quickly. “You okay?” I ask, pulling out a headphone again. Letting out a long breath through his grit teeth, he nods solemnly. Shrugging, I put the headphone back in and Levi assumes the position he was in seconds before. I don’t think much about it until the bus jerks to a stop to let the third stop off. Levi’s face scrunches up and his nails dig into his kneecaps. I nudge him gently with my elbow and he looks up at me sleepily. “What’s wrong?” I ask. “Nothing,” he mutters, before closing his eyes again. “It’s obviously not nothing,” I say, gesturing the way he’s squirming his legs. He groans and crosses his ankles. “I just really have to pee, okay?” he whispers, leaning close to me so no one else can hear him, “I forgot that your bus ride is twice as long as mine.” And yeah, that makes sense; he had guzzled away two water bottles during P.E. He’s only the art student I’ve come across that put his all into the sports we played here, despite just how bad and uncoordinated he is. The bus hits another bump and his hands fly to his lap before he remembers where he is. He looks away from me quickly, blushing. “Do you think you’ll make it?” I ask, eying the way his foot keeps tapping against the floor. I can’t tell if he’s just suddenly getting desperate, or if the confession made him feel less obligated to hide just how much he has to go. “How much longer?” I check the time on my iPod. “’Little under half an hour,” I tell him. “Pray for me,” he says, and I take that as a ‘no.’ I twist my body to look behind us. The back of the bus is nearly empty now that the biggest stop has been dropped off. “The back is almost empty,” I murmur, leaning in just as close as he had been to me seconds before, “I have a towel in my gym bag. If worst comes to worst, you can piss in that.” He looks at me with a look of disgust before squeaking and going rigid. He squeezes his thighs together tightly for a few seconds before relaxing the slightest bit, but still quite obviously on guard. “Did you just leak?” I ask, strangely excited by the idea of it. “Shut up,” he tries to hiss, but it sounds much more like a whine, “Let’s just get to the back. Please.” I nod and lean forward. “I’ll grab your stuff for you,” I say, noticing the way that leaning over only squishes his bladder against his thighs. “Thank you,” he says, getting up. He grips the back of the bus seat in front of us with his face scrunched up for a few seconds before moving to the back. I slip both of our book bags onto one shoulder and use my other arm for my laptop and P.E. bag. I move to the back where Levi is now sitting, squirming his legs around and biting his bottom lip so hard it’s bleeding the tiniest bit. “Jesus,” I mutter, sitting down next to him, “You must really have to go.” “I’m bursting,” he agrees. I place our stuff on the floor and quickly open my gym bag. “Hurry, please, Alex,” he begs, trying to unbutton his pants. I nod and pull the old Pokémon towel out of my bag. I hand it over to Levi, who leaks a bit in anticipation. Blushing, he jams the towel into his crotch. The back is only filled by a sleeping blond girl that’s sprawled out on the seat diagonal from us, but I lift my knees to block the view of Levi’s actions just in case. I don’t mean to look, but it’s practically hypnotizing to watch the way the towel goes from being blue to a shade darker as Levi wets. He moans a bit in relief and his eyelids flutter. While the rest of him relaxes, his hands quickly grab as much of the towel as they can and push it closer to him. I glance at his boxers that are now resting around his knees and find that he had indeed leaked when I thought he had. The material is obviously wet, and so are the inside of his jeans, though it wasn’t enough to leak through the front. His thighs are a bit wet as well. The towel starts darkening more rapidly and Levi glances at me from the corner of his eyes. “Don’t look,” he whines. So, I turn away and watch the blonde girl’s chest rise and fall instead. A few seconds later, Levi taps my shoulder. “What do I do with this?” he squeaks, cheeks bright red. I open my gym bag and he looks at me for permission before setting it in. “This is embarrassing,” he whispers, inspecting his wet boxers before pulling them back on with a grimace. I stay silent, not really sure what to say to relieve him of his embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he says after taking a few deep breathes and pulling his jeans back up, “I don’t normally go at school because I shy bladder – the only reason I could go now is because I was going uncontrollably, I tried to stop it, I really did, I’m so sorry - and public restrooms are just disgusting in genial, and I always have to go when I’m nervous and I’m always nervous when I go to someone’s house for the first time and I forgot that your bus ride is longer and I should’ve went when I had the chance and –“ “Levi!” I practically yell, and he flinches, “it’s totally cool, dude. It happens to the best of us.” He smiles a bit and nods, though his cheeks are still bright red. “Um,” he says, rubbing his arm self-consciously, “Normally when I hold it that long I have to go pretty quickly again soon. Do you happen to have another towel?” Laughing, I shake my head. “No, but I have an empty bottle,” I say, snatching it off of the side of my gym bag. “Okay,” Levi says, taking it with a small smile.
  3. Heyy all!! This one is fresh from yesterday afternoon!! So I love being active and, lately, have been really into the idea of doing a triathlon, leading me to dust off my bicycle and give it some exercise. It has been really hot and humid lately, leading me to drink a lot of water before I go out. As I'm sure you're all very well aware, what goes in must come out Yesterday, I got off of work a little early and hurried home, debating whether to settle for a running or biking day. By the time I parked my car, I'd decided on two-wheeling it for the day. I gave myself about an hour to unwind after work and stock up on fluids, which I, admittedly, may have overdone. Meanwhile, I changed into a bright pink tank top and black shorts. By the turn of the clock, I had loaded my bike onto my car and was ready to go! I cruised over to a nice, paved trail about 20 minutes from my home, entirely neglecting to relieve myself before setting off. When I pulled into the parking space and began unloading my bike, my bladder was already making itself known, but I intentionally disregarded it. I hadn't had a good, daring pee since I was caught a few months ago and, as embarrassing as that was, I was craving the thrill again. Plus, I figured, I could find a nice water-deprived bush off the trail and hydrate it if things got really bad. It's not uncommon to see guys and, occasionally, other girls coming back onto the trail from the woods, presumably having done exactly that. With that looming in the back of my mind, I set off! A few miles in, it was starting to get bad. I could no longer push the urge to pee into the back of my mind. I was just riding past an area where the trail meets a stream with a pretty waterfall--a popular location for trail walkers and families, however, so I needed to hold it until I was clear of all the people. Every drop that cascaded down the waterfall teased my bladder, which threatened to release a similar cascade from my crotch. I bit my lip and pressed on, occasionally trying to discreetly press my hand between my legs--as if that ever helped. As I zipped past the people, happily laughing and taking photos, blissfully oblivious of the woman urging her bladder not to burst, I considered my options. Obviously, the bushes were a relatively safe bet...but I didn't want safe--not today. I could get off my bike, pull my shorts and panties to the side, and soak the pavement. Perhaps a little too risky. I wasn't keen on giving any passersby a free show of my lady bits. Why not just pee while I ride? Forget the pit stop altogether! With that thought, I flashed a devilish grin, which was quickly washed away by the waves of urine sloshing around in my abdomen. At last, I found a spot of the trail where the laughs and yells of others were out of earshot. I looked forward and backward, each twist an act of torture--threatening to prematurely force open the floodgates. Nobody's in sight. Now or never. As I caught a slight decline, I stopped pedaling, scooted slightly forward on the bike seat, and relaxed my muscles. Perhaps facilitated by my sitting position, the first spurts of pee discharged far more quickly and easily than I anticipated. Within seconds, my panties, unable to handle the rush of fluid, which overflowed and dampened my shorts. A creeping darkness overtook my groin and pee warmly gushed all over my butt and my legs, leaving the bicycle seat a gleaming black, and pattering to the ground, leaving a trail of drops. I let out a moan of relief as I coasted, leaking all over myself and my bike. It was a surreal sensation--the world rushing by as the contents of my bladder rushed downward. This sensation began to fade, however, as I hit the bottom of the decline and began losing momentum. Preoccupied by the urine spouting out of my urethra, I put my feet out, catching myself and standing over my bike. There, I stood, ferociously gushing from my nether region. The wind began blowing, a coolness overtaking me as it collided with my sweat and my newly-wet legs. Some of the fluid rushed down into my socks, which thirstily licked it up, diverting it into my shoes. The rest cascaded straight down, hitting the frame of my bike or tumbling straight to an ever-growing puddle below. Cautiously, I continued darting glances in both directions to ensure nobody was coming. The coast was clear. At last, however, as all good things do, the final few spurts came to a sputtering end, and I stood there, soaked from the waist down, in a puddle of my own pee, gently gripping my similarly-wet bicycle by the handles. Eagerly, I observed the damage with a smile. A splash of pee formed a small, trickling stream from the puddle beneath my gleaming legs. My shorts were soaked, clinging hungrily to my skin. The bicycle seat was drenched and the frame dripped seductively. Now beaming, I mounted my bike and set off again, adrenaline shooting through my body, giving my ride new life. By the time I made it back to my car, only my panties were slightly damp, but my spirit was not! ...And my bladder was full again. I had parked on the edge of the lot, next to the woods, away from most of the other cars. There were a few people chatting on the other side. I grabbed the towel I keep in my trunk and laid it on my seat in order to avoid getting pee all over it. Then, I made my way to the passenger side of the car, stood where my lower half was obscured, and peed myself again, laughing as I watered the grass, nobody else aware of the 24-year-old woman peeing down her legs like a little girl. Upon finishing, I shook my legs as dry as I could, climbed into my car, and made my way back home.
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