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Found 6 results

  1. Hey pissers today I bring you these drawings of Kaz Brekker (Six of Crows/Shadow and Bone) and Guren Ichiniose (Seraph of the End) wetting their pants. That is all.
  2. James swore under his breath, staring at the red light, willing it to turn to green. He tapped his hands on his thighs in frustration, leaning forwards in the driver’s seat of the fancy company car belonging to the high-end real estate agency he worked for. 'Come on… come on' he muttered, before it finally changed and he sped off down the road, only to have to stop once more at yet another set of traffic lights, much to his annoyance. He was running late to an appointment with a very important client, who he knew only as Mrs Jones. He didn’t know much about her, only that she was a very successful local businesswoman and had an impressive property portfolio, which she was looking to expand with some new luxury apartments and newly renovated houses which had come onto the market in the last few days. James was in for a huge commission if he could show her a few of the properties and make a sale, but was in danger of losing this altogether if he didn’t get to the appointment ASAP. He squirmed in his seat, staring at the light which was staying stubbornly red. His lateness wasn’t the only reason for his impatience though. He reached down and gave his penis a quick squeeze through his expensive suit trousers, groaning softly under his breath, squirming yet again before the light changed to green and he drove on. James was absolutely bursting to go to the toilet. It had been an extremely busy day, and he had been out on appointments since 9am that morning. He hadn’t been able to take a single break, not even for the loo, and he’d been needing to pee for hours. As it was a warm day he had made sure to stay well hydrated, and the 2 litre bottle of water he had brought with him in the car was now almost empty, and he’d also politely accepted several cups of tea and coffee from clients during the day. He turned into the road and pulled up outside the block of brand new luxury apartments, where his first viewing with Mrs Jones was scheduled. He glanced at his watch – 4.13pm. He was almost 15 minutes late, not a good first impression. He allowed himself one final squeeze of his member before stepping out the car, wincing slightly as he felt his very full bladder pressing against his waistband, locking it and hurrying up to the front door of the apartment building. For a moment, he thought Mrs Jones had not yet arrived, and for a brief moment he thought he might just have time to nip in and quickly use the loo before the viewing, much to his relief. As he was fiddling around with the keys, he heard a car door close and the sound of heels clicking on the path behind him. He heard a female voice call his name. He turned around, smiling confidently. ‘Good afternoon, you must be Mrs Jones’ he said, looking at the beautiful, elegantly dressed woman walking towards him. ‘How are you?’ he asked, as she walked up to him and gave him an appraising look up and down. Tall, handsome and dressed in a bespoke fitted pale grey suit, James knew he looked the part. At 25 years old, he was probably at least 10 years younger than her, but was confident that he’d be able to charm her. If only he could push the pressing, desperate urge to relieve his bladder to the back of his mind, he thought grimly as he crossed his legs as casually as possible. ‘Fine thank you James, how are you doing?’ she asked, smiling back at him. ‘I’m very well, thank you. I must apologise for being a few minutes late, Mrs Jones, we’re incredibly busy at the moment and I’ve been back-to-back since 9 o’clock this morning. We’re the number one rated agency in the area, after all.’ He couldn’t help but bob a little on the spot, uncrossing his legs and moving from foot to foot before crossing them again, trying not to make it too obvious that his bladder was uncomfortably full. ‘I’m confident that you’ll be impressed with the properties that I have lined up for you to view this afternoon. As my client, your needs are extremely important to me’. It was a tried and tested line, and it seemed to work. She smiled, glancing down at his crossed legs for a moment before meeting his eye. ‘Sounds good, I’m very much looking forward to it. Shall we go inside?’ she said, and James nodded. ‘Of course’ he replied, unlocking the door and leading her to the lift, pressing the button for the top floor. The brand-new penthouse apartment was beautiful and spacious, and James had a feeling that Mrs Jones was quietly impressed. She asked question after question, and he did his best to answer them all, occasionally needing to refer back to his notes. For the most part, he was able to keep his composure despite his increasingly desperate need to use the bathroom, although at one point while showing her one of the bedrooms he realised that he had been pacing around rather too much, and while trying his hardest to stand still, he had resorted to putting his hand in his pocket and giving his cock a very quick squeeze, only to realise that she had been looking directly at him. She didn’t say anything, much to his relief, but from the smile on her face as they left the bedroom, he had a feeling that she had noticed. After about 30 minutes, she seemed satisfied and asked to move onto the next property. Just before leaving, James glanced at his watch. It was just after 4.45pm. He still had two more properties that he wanted to show Mrs Jones, and he was trying to work out just how long he still had to wait before he could finally use the loo back at the office. He probably wasn’t going to be back at the office until well after 6pm, possibly closer to 6.30pm if the traffic was bad or the viewings look longer than expected (which was extremely likely, he thought to himself, given how thorough Mrs Jones had been at the first viewing). He had no idea how he was going to hold on that long, given that he was already struggling to stay professional and keep his composure. He looked back into the apartment, staring longingly towards the bathroom. James had never once used the toilet during a property viewing with a client. The agency took pride in their reputation for professionalism and such behaviour would reflect very poorly on them. But he had never had to wait for so long before. He had often arrived back at the office bursting for the loo after hours of viewings, as had many of his colleagues, but he was already far more desperate to piss than he had ever been before, with two more viewings still to finish with a very thorough and attentive client. For the briefest of moments, he considered asking Mrs Jones to excuse him for a minute while he quickly used the bathroom, but he realised that doing so would be extremely unprofessional and he may even find himself in trouble with the head of the agency. No, he would grit his teeth and hang on until the viewings were over, no matter how badly he wanted to piss. James locked up and they both headed down in the lift, back to the car. As Mrs Jones had been dropped at the property by her driver, James offered to drive her to the next viewing. The journey took around 15 minutes, most of which was spent sitting in queuing traffic. James tried his best to sit still and not squirm around too much as the car crawled forwards in the queue, chatting politely about the property market in the area, but he was finding it incredibly difficult. If he had been driving on his own, he would have probably spent most of the journey holding himself and looking out for somewhere on the way where he could use the loo, but with Mrs Jones sitting next to him in the front passenger seat, there was absolutely nothing he could do to ease his discomfort. Part of him hoped that she had noticed his predicament, especially given what he said earlier about being out on back-to-back viewings all day, and would ask him if he’d like to stop off for a short comfort break. Unfortunately for James, she didn’t mention a break at all, and instead seemed eager to get to the next property. Eventually, they pulled up outside a large, detached house on a private estate. Once again, Mrs Jones seemed quietly impressed at the size and splendour of the building, which had been recently renovated to very high standards. They went inside and James took her from room to room, and although he was very knowledgeable about the house, his incredibly desperate need to urinate was becoming a huge distraction and he kept losing his train of thought, or mis-remembering certain details such as what the kitchen work surfaces were made of. Even just standing still and not pacing, dancing, squirming, bobbing or bending was becoming extremely difficult, and he found himself frequently crossing and uncrossing his legs, or hopping up and down on the balls of his feet, gritting his teeth in desperation. More than once, he couldn’t resist giving his cock a really quick squeeze, hiding it with his leather-bound notepad. When removing their footwear in order to view the upstairs, James had really struggled to bend down, moaning softly under his breath as he compressed his bladder trying to untie his smart black shoes and pull them off, very much the opposite of Mrs Jones who had elegantly stepped out of her Louboutin heels and watched James struggling with a look of mild amusement on her face. They spent quite some time viewing the upstairs bedrooms, of which the house had several. Mrs Jones clearly had very high standards and spent a lot of time inspecting the rooms, measuring up for furniture and making notes of her own, much to James’ frustration. A couple of times he had risked bending over and holding himself through his suit trousers while standing behind her, only to have to quickly straighten up as she turned around to ask him something. His composure was slipping now and he was beginning to wonder whether he’d be able to make it back to the office with dry trousers. Showing her the bathrooms, of which the house had several, was incredibly difficult as he was constantly being teased by the sight of the toilet, and several times he almost asked Mrs Jones if she wouldn’t mind waiting while he very quickly made use of the facilities. But he continued holding, through gritted teeth, determined to remain professional despite the almost overwhelming pressure in his bladder. Once Mrs Jones was finally satisfied that she had seen everything, they went back downstairs and prepared to leave. James glanced at his watch. The viewing had taken much longer than he was expecting, as it was now almost 6pm. The next property was only just down the road, probably 10 minutes away, but even so, he realised that there was absolutely no way that he was going make it through the final viewing and back to the office without using the toilet. He had never been this desperate to piss in his life, and his bladder felt like it was going to explode. Despite his efforts to remain professional and composed, it was now becoming almost impossible and he genuinely didn’t know how much longer he could last. Besides, wetting his pants in front of a very important client (which was quickly becoming a real possibility) would be far more unprofessional than quickly excusing himself to use the bathroom, he thought to himself. Mrs Jones stepped back into her heels and looked expectantly at James. ‘Ready to go?’ she asked with a smile and he hesitated before replying. He was extremely shy about admitting his predicament, especially to a client, but at that moment he saw no other option. ‘Erm, yes. It’s just…well…’ he trailed off, crossing his legs awkwardly. ‘I’m so sorry Mrs Jones, I know this is incredibly unprofessional, but… erm… I really, really need to go to the toilet. I wouldn’t usually go during a viewing, but I’ve been holding on all day and well… to be honest with you, my bladder is extremely full’ He bobbed on the spot, looking at her sheepishly, his cheeks now burning with embarrassment. ‘Would you possibly excuse me for a moment while I use the loo?’ he asked shyly. ‘I’ll be very quick’ he added, his voice quiet, totally different from his usual confident tone. She watched him as he uncrossed his legs and bent forwards for a moment before straightening up and stepping from foot to foot, barely able to keep his composure now. ‘Yes, of course James. When you’ve gotta go, you’ve gotta go!’ she said, a cheeky grin on her face, much to his relief. He had wondered whether she would be annoyed by his lack of professionalism, but in fact, she actually seemed to find his predicament rather amusing. James smiled back, jiggling on the spot. ‘Thank you so much, Mrs Jones. I’ll be back shortly. Sorry again.’ He turned and hurried back up the stairs towards the master bathroom, gritting his teeth. ‘God I need to piss I need to piss I need to piss’ he muttered to himself as he hurried inside and shut the door, grappling with his belt as he ran over to the toilet. As he opened the lid, however, he noticed something odd. The bathroom suite was obviously brand new, having been upgraded as part of the refurbishment, but there was no water in the bottom of the toilet. He tried flushing, and although he heard the clunk of the mechanism, no water appeared. Quickly, he walked over to the sink and tried both taps, but no water came out. He tried the bath taps for good measure, with the same result. He swore under his breath, bending over and gripping himself tightly through his trousers. Why hadn’t it occurred to him that the water to the property might be switched off? He had been so focused on trying to maintain his composure in front of Mrs Jones while excusing himself that he hadn’t even thought about the possibility of him not actually being able to relieve himself. He walked back over to the toilet, still squeezing his cock for dear life, and wondered if he could get away with peeing in it anyway, but there was just no way. The owners would know exactly who was responsible and he would definitely lose his job. He had no choice but to hang on and use the facilities at the next property. He closed the toilet lid and gave himself a moment to compose himself, re-fastening his belt and looking in the bathroom mirror to straighten his tie and fix his hair. ‘You can do this’ he muttered, looking at himself in the mirror as he danced from foot to foot. ‘Just hang on until you get to the next house and then you can go. You’ve been desperate so many times before, you have to hold it almost every day at work, you have a bladder of steel. You can wait.’ He treated himself to one final cock squeeze before leaving the bathroom and heading back down the stairs, where Mrs Jones was waiting for him. ‘Relieved?’ she asked cheekily, and James shook his head grimly. ‘Erm…well… unfortunately not, Mrs Jones. The water to the property appears to be turned off, so I couldn’t… erm…’ he trailed off, extremely embarrassed at his predicament. ‘You couldn’t use the loo?’ she asked, sounding surprised. He shook his head again, bending forwards and looking up at her sheepishly. ‘Oh gosh, James… how frustrating’ she said sympathetically, watching him as he sat down on the bottom of the stairs to put his shoes back on. ‘Are you going to be OK?’ she asked him, sounding concerned. He nodded. ‘Yes, Mrs Jones, I’ll be fine. I can manage until we get to the next property. Thank you for asking, though’. James knew that he was going to have to run to the loo the moment they arrived, he just hoped that he could wait that long. Fortunately, it wasn’t too far away, but even so, there were some traffic delays due to some roadworks and temporary traffic lights. As they sat in the queue waiting for the lights to change, James was struggling to maintain his composure. In fact, all of his concentration was on making it to the next house without having a very embarrassing wetting accident and totally soaking both his suit trousers and his car seat. ‘Oh my God’ he muttered as they inched forwards a few feet and then stopped once more, unable to hide his frustration. He jiggled his legs and sucked in air through his teeth, pressing his clenched fist against his jiggling thigh for a few moments before giving his cock a very firm squeeze. He glanced at Mrs Jones, and noticed that her eyes were fixed on his crotch. He quickly let go of himself and she looked up to meet his gaze, giving him a sympathetic smile. ‘I do apologise, Mrs Jones’ he muttered, blushing like crazy. ‘It’s OK, I don’t mind. You must be absolutely bursting’ she replied softly. She paused for a few seconds, looking out at the long queue of traffic in front of them, before turning back to him. ‘You really should be allowed a loo break when you’re out on appointments all day… when did you last go?’ she asked gently. He thought for a moment, slightly taken aback by her directness. ‘Erm… about 6 o’clock this morning, when I woke up’ he answered, truthfully, blushing even harder as he pressed his thighs together for a moment, running his hands over them, before resuming his jiggling. ‘Oh James, you poor thing. That’s an awfully long time to go without relief’ she said, her voice full of sympathy. He nodded, biting his lip. ‘More than 12 hours, Mrs Jones. I’ve had so much to drink today, as well. Water, tea, coffee…’ he trailed off, squirming in his seat and letting out a quiet moan as he tried to pull the seatbelt slightly away from his very full bladder. ‘Oh bless you… you’ve done incredibly well to last until now’ she said quietly, leaning over and giving his arm a gentle squeeze. James had the feeling that she was probably rather enjoying his predicament, more so than she was letting on. He squirmed again as he put the car into gear, now that the traffic was finally starting to move. After a few more minutes, they finally pulled into the private road and parked up outside the house, which was somehow even larger and grander than the previous one they had viewed. They walked quickly up the garden path to the front door, James leading the way. He couldn’t help but cross his legs and bob on the spot as he tried to unlock the door. ‘Come on, come on’ he muttered in frustration, trying several keys before finally finding the right one and opening the door. The house was beautiful and extremely spacious inside, but all James cared about at that precise moment was finally reaching a toilet. ‘Feel free to look around Mrs Jones, I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me for one moment’ he said breathlessly, reaching down to take his shoes off as quickly as possible. ‘Of course’ she said, watching as James placed his shoes neatly by the front door and hurried up the stairs, gritting his teeth and already starting to unbuckle his belt and undo his waistband in anticipation of bladder relief. James hurried across the large landing, his belt now unbuckled and the waistband of his suit trousers unclasped, accidentally walking into a couple of bedrooms before finally finding the large, luxurious master bathroom. Closing the door behind him, he walked towards the toilet, taking long, purposeful strides. He was finally, at long last, going to be able to piss. He reached down, and opened the lid. ‘Oh you have got to be fucking joking’ he muttered. Just like in the previous house, the toilet was brand new, but there was no water at all in the bowl. The owners must have turned off the water supply. He was more desperate than ever before in his entire life, in one of the most grand bathrooms he had ever seen, his bladder on the brink of exploding, but there was nowhere for him to piss! He groaned and swore under his breath, bending over, squeezing himself frantically through his boxers, fighting to maintain control. He closed the lid of the toilet and looked around the bathroom, checking in the cupboards, for something, anything, that he could relieve himself into, but there was absolutely nothing. He tried the sink taps, the bath taps, and even the shower, but there was no water at all. He had absolutely no choice but to hold his bladder until after the viewing was over and he was back in the office. Given how thorough Mrs Jones had been at the previous viewings, he knew that it was still going to be at least another hour before he could use a toilet. How he was going to wait that long, he had no idea. He could hardly imagine holding on for another 5 minutes, let alone a whole hour or more. He gritted his teeth and hopped from foot to foot as he zipped up his suit trousers and re-fastened his belt. His long-suffering bladder was now so agonisingly full, so swollen and plump, that it was bulging out too much for him to be able to fasten the clasp of his waistband. Once again, he checked his appearance in the mirror, adjusting his tie and neatening his hair, allowing himself one long, hard squeeze of his cock through his suit trousers before opening the bathroom door and heading back downstairs, determined to finish the viewing as quickly as possible. Not wanting to waste time putting his shoes back on, he walked through the large, open-plan living space before reaching the kitchen, where Mrs Jones was looking at the appliances and making some notes. He cleared his throat. ‘Sorry about that, Mrs Jones. We’ll proceed with the viewing now’ he said, his voice slightly strained as he crossed his legs. He was making a monumental effort to maintain control of his bladder. She turned around and walked slowly towards him. ‘No problem’ she said brightly, standing right next to him as she looked around at the wide open kitchen space. He jiggled as he opened his notebook and flicked through the property notes, struggling to find the right page. She turned to him and placed her hand on his arm again. ‘Most importantly, have you had a wee?’ she added quietly, smiling gently at him. He was rather embarrassed at the bluntness of her question, and felt his cheeks reddening once again. ‘Erm… no. Unfortunately I haven’t, Mrs Jones. The water supply has been turned off here as well’ he answered quietly, meeting her gaze. ‘Oh god’ she said quietly. He shifted position and bobbed on the spot, and she gave his arm a gentle squeeze in sympathy. ‘I really do feel for you, James. You must be suffering really badly… are you going to be OK?’ she asked him, sounding genuinely concerned. James bit his lip before replying. ‘Yes, Mrs Jones, I’ll be fine. I’ll just have to hang on until we’re back in the office’ he said, as casually as possible, but his voice was trembling slightly with the effort of holding such an enormous amount of urine inside him. He sighed under his breath and re-crossed his legs yet again, determined to get through the viewing without an embarrassing accident. James showed Mrs Jones the downstairs first, taking her around the kitchen and the numerous sitting rooms. He was barely able to concentrate on his notes now, and almost all of his attention and focus was on holding in his piss. Standing still was almost impossible, and he was unable to disguise his frantic ‘need a wee’ dance as he constantly stumbled over his words or lost his place on the page, struggling to answer her constant questions about the house and the area. At one point, while showing her the spacious living room and telling her about the expensive refurbishments, he had felt himself leak into his boxers as he lost control of his overfull bladder for just one short moment, followed seconds later by a second, longer spurt. He stopped talking abruptly and bent over, gripping his penis tightly through his suit trousers, moaning under his breath with the effort to regain control. He continued to hold himself for a few seconds, gritting his teeth, before glancing up. ‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Jones. This is incredibly unprofessional of me’ he muttered, before releasing his penis and slowly straightening up as he managed to regain control. ‘It’s absolutely fine, James. You must be really struggling’ she replied softly, watching him with concern. His boxers felt damp against his penis, but thankfully, a quick glance down at his crotch confirmed that it wasn’t showing on his trousers. After much more desperate squirming, jiggling, bobbing and pacing, James managed to finish showing Mrs Jones the remaining downstairs rooms without any further leaks. It was time to see the upstairs, and he knew that it was going to be incredibly difficult to finish the viewing and make it back to the office without letting any more piss escape his swollen bladder. He knew that he had no choice but to try, even though his muscles were beginning to tire and his voice was trembling slightly with the effort of waiting. It was now just after 6.30pm, more than 12 and a half hours since he had last relieved himself first thing that morning. He thought back to all of the huge mugs of tea and coffee that various clients had made for him throughout the day, as well as all of the water he had gulped down in his car between appointments. He could picture all of that liquid now sitting inside his bladder, stretching it out to the size of a watermelon, and tried not to imagine how incredible it would feel to finally let it all out. Mrs Jones stepped out of her heels, placing them neatly next to his shoes before walking up the stairs, James following behind. They started with the luxurious master bedroom with en-suite bathroom, and Mrs Jones spent quite a bit of time taking detailed notes and measurements. James took the opportunity to pace around, occasionally walking back onto the landing in order to bend over and hold himself again without her noticing, his eyes closed, moaning quietly under his breath in desperation, willing himself to continue holding on. At one point, he even wandered into the en-suite bathroom and checked the toilet, hoping that there might be some slim chance that there was enough water in the cistern to flush it, but just like the master bathroom, the toilet was brand new with no water in the bowl. Finally, Mrs Jones was satisfied and they moved onto the next bedroom. As they entered the room, she stood next to him for a moment, glancing around the room as he described the various refurbishments that had been made with as much professionalism as he could muster, jigging subtly from foot to foot. Once he was finished, she turned to him and placed her hand gently on his arm again. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can, James’ she said quietly, watching him closely as he crossed his legs in a vain attempt to stand still. He shook his head. ‘Please, feel free to take as much time as you need, Mrs Jones. You’re my client, after all, and I don’t want to rush you’ he replied breathlessly, bobbing and bending forwards slightly in desperation, longing to hold himself again. She smiled and squeezed his arm gently before stepping forwards and measuring up the room. She did seem to be working slightly more quickly than before, perhaps aware that he was now really struggling to hold his bladder, for which he was secretly thankful. After all, he was essentially trapped here with nowhere to pee until she was satisfied that the viewing was over. They continued through the upstairs rooms, viewing several more bedrooms, bathrooms and storage areas. James was really, really struggling to hold on now, and as the minutes ticked by, he was unable to prevent several more leaks of warm pee dribbling out the end of his cock, no matter how hard he tried. He was finding it harder and harder to regain control each time, and he could feel how damp his boxers were quickly becoming. The feeling of the warm, wet cotton rubbing uncomfortably against his penis was not helping his situation at all. He found that standing in the master bathroom was particularly difficult, and he had to hold himself as discretely as possible, hidden behind his notebook, dancing from foot to foot as he described the expensive rainfall shower and jacuzzi bath. He kept casting longing glances towards the toilet, which had not gone unnoticed by Mrs Jones, who remarked on how frustrated he must be feeling, standing right next to a toilet that he wasn’t allowed to use. Finally, at long last, they had finished viewing all of the upstairs rooms. ‘I’m sorry James, I know you must be absolutely dying to finish for the day, but could I possibly view the wonderful kitchen one more time?’ she asked him as they walked back downstairs. ‘Of course, Mrs Jones. You can take as much time as you need’ he replied, his voice trembling slightly. As they stepped into the kitchen, he glanced at his watch. It was now nearly 7pm, almost 13 hours since his last pee. He was beginning to inwardly panic, now. He was probably only around 15 minutes away from getting back to the office and finally being able to use a toilet, but he genuinely didn’t think he was going to be able to hold on for that long. And besides, how on Earth was he supposed to concentrate on driving in his incredibly desperate state? For a brief moment, he considered asking Mrs Jones to excuse him while he ran out onto the garden patio and relieved himself into a suitable flowerbed. Surely she would be understanding and sympathetic, rather than disgusted? He quickly put aside this idea though, remembering that both the front and back of the property were covered by high-definition security cameras, and he would definitely lose his job if the owners were to check the footage. No, he was just going to have to try his hardest to hold on until they were finally back at the office, even if it seemed like an impossible task. He watched as Mrs Jones wandered slowly around the kitchen again, before walking back over to him. ‘This really is a very lovely house, James, I absolutely love it. Thank you so much for bringing me here’ she said, beaming at him. ‘You’re welcome, Mrs Jones’ he said quietly, forcing a smile. At that moment, he felt another few drops of warm piss dribble out the end of his cock into his damp boxers, quickly followed by several longer spurts, lasting for several seconds. ‘Oh god’ he muttered, quickly crossing his legs and bending over, squeezing his cock firmly, desperately fighting to get control. ‘Don’t piss… don’t piss… don’t piss…’ he thought to himself, closing his eyes for a moment. All thoughts of professionalism were out of the window now. Somehow, with an almost superhuman effort, he managed to clamp off the flow. ‘Oh James… your trousers’ Mrs Jones said softly, her eyes on his crotch. He glanced down, and was shocked to see a large, glistening wet patch, emanating from the tip of his penis bulge and covering almost his entire thigh, slowly seeping down to his knee. He felt himself starting to leak yet again, and he knew then that he had reached the limits of his capacity. His plump, swollen bladder could stretch no more, and was now contracting, forcing him to let go ‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Jones... I can’t hold it anymore’ he muttered, defeated, looking down in embarrassment as a strong stream of pee forced its way out of his penis, gushing noisily into his trousers. Slowly, he let go of his cock and straightened up, uncrossing his legs. He knew that it was hopeless trying to hold on now that the floodgates had already opened. A torrent of urine cascaded down his inner thigh before running down his leg and into his sock, the pale grey material of his immaculately cut trousers quickly turning dark, clinging to him and glistening as it became drenched in his piss. He gasped softly with relief as he continued to wet himself, looking down and watching helplessly as one leg of his trousers became completely sodden, his socks now soaking wet as a puddle of urine began to grow around his feet on the tiled floor. After about a minute or so, James reached down and awkwardly manoeuvred his penis so that it was pointing down his other leg, still peeing forcefully. He was trying to get as much of it soaked into his trousers as possible, mindful of the ever-growing puddle around him. Neither James nor Mrs Jones spoke, the only sounds were the hissing and gushing of the urine which continued to soak into his trousers and socks, and his quiet gasps of relief as his bladder continued to empty with force. Finally, after what was only a couple of minutes but felt like an eternity to James, he finished wetting himself. ‘I’m so, so sorry, Mrs Jones. I can only apologise for my unprofessionalism’ he said softly, finally finding the courage to look up at her and meet her eye. ‘Oh James, it’s not your fault, there’s really no need for you to apologise. I can't believe that you lasted that long’ she replied, giving him a supportive smile. ‘Do you feel better now?’ she asked gently. ‘So much better’ he replied shyly, nodding. He was feeling incredibly, blissfully relieved after enduring an uncomfortably full bladder for so many hours. However, he was also intensely embarrassed, more so than ever before in his life. His cheeks had turned a deep shade of scarlet, and his mouth had become dry, a faint ringing in his ears. He felt totally humiliated and ashamed of himself. He had been so focused on maintaining his professionalism in front of his client, and now here he was in front of her, in the kitchen of a very expensive house, his trousers, boxers and socks completely drenched, standing helplessly in a huge puddle of pee. 'You must have had an awful lot in you, James’ she said sympathetically, casting her gaze over his sodden trousers and the puddle which had almost reached her feet. He nodded awkwardly, not really knowing what to say. He actually felt like he still needed to pee a little bit, but knew he would be OK to hold the rest until he could get to a toilet. James needed to focus now on cleaning up and changing his clothes, the problem was that he couldn’t actually move anywhere without walking a trail of pissy wet footprints through the house. ‘Do you have a change of clothes?’ Mrs Jones asked him, clearly noticing that he was pretty much trapped standing where he was. He nodded again. ‘Yes I do, Mrs Jones. I was planning on going to the gym after work, so my gym kit is in the boot of my car’ he answered, still incredibly embarrassed. ‘Would you like me to get it for you?’ she asked kindly, and he nodded, thanking her profusely. He stepped forwards to hand her his car keys, his soaking wet socks splashing noisily in the puddle around his feet. ‘There’s a towel in there as well, and some cleaning wipes. I think we’ll probably need them’ he said jokily, making her laugh. James tried his best to clean up, peeling off his soaking wet trousers and socks and drying himself off with his gym towel. Mrs Jones had found a large plastic bag in the boot of his car as well, which she held out for him as he awkwardly placed his wet clothes inside. He had also removed his suit jacket, shirt and tie, which Mrs Jones kindly held for him. He didn’t have spare boxers, so he had to dry the ones he was wearing as best as he could with the towel. James was still blushing, his heart pounding, very aware that he was standing directly in front of a female client while wearing nothing but a pair of soaking wet boxers. The damp cotton of his underwear clung to him and made the outline of his penis extremely obvious, and several times he had caught her looking. She would make eye contact and smile at him every time this happened, before quickly looking away. He didn’t mind, of course, and was secretly enjoying the fact that she was watching him so closely. After a few minutes, James had managed to get his boxers slightly drier, although still very damp. He then worked on mopping up the puddle as best he could with the towel, before cleaning the floor with the wipes and then quickly changing into his gym kit. It ended up taking longer than expected to get back to the office due to traffic, and by the time they had parked up and were walking into reception, he was absolutely bursting for a pee again. Embarrassed, he had to quickly excuse himself and literally sprint to the loo which was fortunately close by, much to the amusement of Mrs Jones. James only just made it to the toilet in time, and he moaned loudly with relief as a torrent of piss poured out of him, his stream splashing loudly into the water below. He was pissing for a surprisingly long time, close to a minute, and he guessed that his bladder had been so agonisingly full when he’d wet himself that he hadn’t actually emptied it completely. Relieved once more, he returned to Mrs Jones who told him that her driver was about to arrive to pick her up. She made an appointment with him to view some more properties at the same time the following week, and left him with a kiss on the cheek and a knowing smile.
  3. Does anyone enjoy using your office business suit as s place to piss into? At the end of a long hard day of work, I love coming home in my fine suit and a very full bladder of urine. I step into my tub, rub my hard cock and let it all out into my underwear and suit pants. The warmth is very arousing and the soaked pants feel soooo good as I rub into them. The best and most relaxing part is when I cum heavily into my suit. Feels sooooo good!
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