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I hope this story is enjoyed by all.  I actually liked writing it more than I liked it on second reading, but I still think it's a good one.  Maybe a little more subtle than the majority of my stuff.  As always, thoughts, comments, and ideas for future stories are certainly appreciated!

 

 

 

Anita's Control

 

 

I sat at the bar feeling a bit nervous.  My first date in more than a few years, and it was a blind date to boot.  At 35 I was in pretty good shape and certainly wasn’t bad looking, but I’d never seemed to make a connection with any woman for longer than a few months.  Finally a longtime friend decided to set me up with one of her comrades at the law firm she worked at.  “Anita is very nice,” she told me before the date, “she’s regal and comforting and makes good conversation.  One thing I want to let you know about though – she’s 47.  Is that alright?”  I shrugged and replied that it was.  What did I have to lose, after all?  Anita had let me know over the phone that she would be wearing a red dress so that I would know it was her, and sure enough, right on time at 6 pm, in walked a buxom blonde in a tight red dress.  I waved her over, internally thanking my friend for her good taste in women, because Anita was truly a stunner!

 

We got some drinks and began perusing the menu for our dinner, and Anita had already drained her water and asked for a refill, along with a beer, by the time we ordered.  I got a beer as well and sipped it as we chatted.  Anita was charming, and by the way she was looking at me I could tell she was very much enjoying our date.  We ate and kept talking, and before I knew it, it was 8 pm!  I had finished my water and two beers and noticed an acute urge to visit the facilities.  I looked over at Anita, who had consumed the same as me, plus an extra water, and surprisingly she seemed in no distress.  I figured she was putting on a good front, so I said, “Hey, I think I’m going to hit the bathrooms.  Shall I show you where the ladies’ is?”  Instead of accompanying me as I’d suspected, Anita replied with a frown, “Oh no, go ahead if you must.  I can control such things.”  Taken aback, I turned and went, the whole time replaying her words in my head and not making sense of them.  Could she really be implying that she’s got a strong bladder? 

 

We stayed for one more hour and had another beer each, and by the time we decided to call it a night around 9 I had to pee once more.  “I’m sorry, I have to use the bathroom again before we go.  Are you quite sure you don’t want to go?” I asked, curious as to her answer.  After all, despite her confidence in her bladder, I knew Anita hadn’t taken a pee in at least 3 hours and had consumed a liter and a half of beer and a liter of water in that time.  I also knew that women’s bladders tended to get weaker as they got older, so I figured this time she would take heed and join me in relief.  “Do I look like I’m in distress?  It is no problem for me to wait,” Anita told me with a smile.  And so I went, peed again, took her to her car, and we arranged to meet again.  I had really enjoyed our time together and was looking forward to another meeting, but I was also fascinated by Anita’s seeming refusal to relieve herself.  Was she pee shy, or did she really possess a bladder of steel like she claimed?

 

We had a myriad of dates over the next few weeks, of varying length, and after each of them I went to the bathroom and asked if Anita (who of course had not gone once the entire time) would like to accompany me.  Her responses were:

1.    “I’m fine.  You go on ahead, dear.” – after another long dinner.

2.    “I can wait.  It was just one movie, after all.” – after a 3 hour movie with lunch beforehand.

3.    “That’s not necessary.  I don’t need it right now.” – after 6 hours of wandering the city and looking in museums.

4.    “Certainly not.  Don’t worry, I’m a woman you can take out and not have to worry about finding facilities for.” – after another 3 hour dinner, this time with even more to drink than our first date!

 

Every time she denied herself the restroom I became more aroused and excited and simply fascinated by her.  Part of me desperately wanted to tell her how much I enjoyed her ability to wait, but another part of me was more curious.  I wanted to see how far she would push herself normally, without explicitly knowing what she was doing to me.

 

Finally one day I got my opportunity to be with her for an extended period of time.  Anita’s law firm was sending her to a conference three hours away in a neighboring city, and she’d invited me to come with her “and keep me from going crazy from the boredom of it all.”  I picked her up and we left her house at 9 am.  I’d arrived an hour earlier to have breakfast with her and saw the light in her bathroom window switched on, then switch off a couple minutes after I rang her doorbell, so I assumed she’d had her morning pee at 8.  It was hot in the car, so Anita consumed a bottle of water during the ride, and by noon we had arrived at our hotel (provided by the conference, so free of charge!).  When we went into the room I immediately made use of the toilet, then asked if she wanted to relieve herself to be comfortable before the conference started.  “Oh darling, I am fine.  I will last the conference comfortably.”  I expected this answer but still enjoyed hearing it.  Ten minutes later and we were off to the conference building. 

 

When we reached the building, we quickly made our way to the lobby.  A large group, perhaps 50 people, was milling outside of a set of double doors that led to the auditorium the conference would be taking place in.  There was a table set up with refreshments, including a few pots of coffee, mostly untouched, and I overheard a few of the lawyers, men and women, talking near the refreshments table, saying, “Gosh, can you remember last year’s conference?”  “I know, it ran so long!”  “God, I was bursting for the loo by the end of it and that last speaker wouldn’t shut up long enough for me to go!”  “I know, I think everyone learned their lesson this year.  I know I’m not having any of that coffee beforehand!”  I saw that Anita had heard their conversations as well and needled her, “Do you hear them?  Are you sure you don’t need to pee before the presentations start?”  Anita huffed at me, “Oh yes, I’ve been to these conferences before.  I can control myself much better than that.”  With that, my date slid her way passed the grouping of complainers and poured herself a large cup of black coffee.  A few in their number kind of made eyes in her direction, but Anita just smiled them off and returned to my side.  “They should really learn the benefits of waiting,” she said to me as the doors opened up.

 

The conference was, in a word, boring as all hell.  Anita had been right about that.  I can honestly say I barely listened to a word of it after the first twenty minutes, instead focusing on how good my date looked in her sharp pantsuit.  I also noticed that her large coffee was finished before the first hour.  Still, she showed no signs of it, and after an eternity, 3:30 rolled around and we received an hour break for lunch.  Anita snickered just a little as we saw a gaggle of conference-goers with bursting bladders quickly go to the restrooms.  That meant we were among the first people to reach the restaurant located adjacent to the conference building, and we had ourselves a nice, simple lunch of sandwiches and sodas.  Anita was making small talk with the waitress as she brought us our check a little after 4, and when the waitress learned of the conference and noticed Anita’s empty glass of soda, she told my date, “I’ve had a lot of customers come in from different conferences over there.  Sounds like they’re no fun at all.  The bathroom is over there, by the way.  You’ll wanna be able to concentrate when you go back, am I right?  Haha!”  Anita smiled politely but replied, “Oh, honey, I’m much closer to getting a refill than needing to use the bathrooms, but thank you for the offer.”  Sheepishly, I then thanked the waitress for the information and snuck off to use the bathroom.  I didn’t think my bladder could take another 3 hours of law theory.  Then we departed back to the conference building.

 

Anita got herself one more coffee before going inside, then poured one for me before I could refuse, and we headed back into the conference room.  Again, within an hour she’d downed her own, while I had barely touched mine.  Truth be told, I’m not much a fan of black coffee, so when Anita looked over and motioned to my full cup, I whispered this to her.  “No matter, I’ll have it then,” she replied easily, taking my cup and starting to sip.  It was 6 by the time Anita had finished that one as well, and with all the drinks she was building up in her bladder and after 10 hours of holding time I knew she had to be feeling it!  But I stared at her and still saw no signs that she needed a bathroom.  Her demeanor was absolutely pleasant. 

 

Just like the previous year, the conference ran long, finally finishing up at 8 pm, but after 12 hours without a pee Anita was only absentmindedly crossing her legs from time to time.  I wasn’t even sure it was due to pee need more than just general comfort.  Again almost everyone in the room made their way to the bathrooms (and some with haste) once they were let out, but again Anita was not among them.  I asked her what she wanted to do and she suggested dinner, so off we went to a fancier restaurant across town that she knew of.  When we reached it around 8:30, we took our seats and I thought that now, surely now, Anita would excuse herself to use the restroom before our meal.  But she stayed put, so after we ordered drinks I acknowledged it, “Well dear, you certainly were correct!  You made it through the whole conference comfortably, even with the coffee!”  Anita gave a little laugh at my blatant statement, then replied, “Mhm, it was no problem at all.  I control myself well, I think, even when I start to need it.”  “You really don’t need it, even now?” I ventured daringly.  Anita gave me a quizzical look, then replied, “What are you talking about?  I have dinner with you like this all the time.  You know I don’t go at dinner.”  I was left speechless, realizing that every time we’d eaten dinner together Anita had been holding her bladder for the entire day going into it!  That was all the conversation we made about her bladder during the dinner, and as usual we stayed after our meal to chat, so when we eventually got up to leave it was 11 pm.  We’d had a few alcoholic beverages, and I’m sure as we got up Anita expected me to make my customary trip to the bathroom before we returned to the hotel.  But instead I said playfully, “Well I for one am certainly not going to use the bathroom before we leave.  Dare ya to skip the bathrooms with me!”  At this Anita gave a wry smile, “Challenge accepted, sir.  As if I was going to go anyway!”  I saw a distinct bulge in her abdomen as we left the restaurant.

 

At 11:30 we reached the hotel room and I instantly made my way to the bathroom to let out my pee.  After skipping my after dinner pee I had to go quite badly!  I was halfway through my noisy gusher when I heard Anita shout, “Can you shut the door or something to keep it down?  You’re not making it any easier for me out here!”  Confused, I shut the door with my free hand and finished my pee.  When I exited the bathroom I asked her, “Why did you want me to shut the door?”  Anita was sitting on the bed, lightly rubbing her swollen abdomen, “Oh, it’s alright dear.  Hearing you go like that just made my bladder have some empathy pangs.  It’s nothing I can’t control.  I shouldn’t have even said anything.”  “Are you not going to go before bed?  You haven’t gone all day.  I figured you’d want to be able to sleep!” I responded incredulously.  Now Anita looked at me with annoyance, clearly perturbed that her perfect composure was being questioned, “Honestly, dear, I’m just a bit uncomfortable.  I’m not wetting myself.  I’ll be just fine.”  I couldn’t believe it, but at midnight, after 16 hours without a pee break, Anita gingerly laid down on her side to sleep next to me.  I couldn’t resist, putting my hand on the swell of her bladder as I spooned her, and after a groan she whispered to me to please move my hand, for it was making it hard to sleep.  I did as she asked, instead groping her breast to elicit a much more pleasurable groan, and we drifted off to sleep like that.

 

When we awoke the next morning, I checked my phone and discovered it was 8 am.  To my left, Anita was just starting to stir.  Her bladder had clearly grown during the night, now jutting out burstingly from her slim abdomen.  It had now been an astonishing 24 HOURS since she had taken a pee to relieve her enormous building pressure, and Anita moaned quietly in pain as she forced herself to sit up and compress the mass of water inside her.  I assumed her sphincter had to be tiring, but Anita allowed herself no more than a quick squeeze of her crotch before rising to her feet.  Instead of making her way to the bathroom in just her panties, she began getting dressed for the day.  I was more than impressed, but I also had my own morning pee to let out, and this need won out over my need to watch my beautiful date.  As I entered I decided to experiment, again not shutting the door before starting my stream.  Not five seconds after I started I heard, “Honestly!  Can you please shut that door?  I haven’t gone in quite some time!”  I was in heaven hearing Anita, my strong-bladdered woman, talk so openly about her need, but I did as she asked and finished my pee with the door firmly shut. 

 

When I exited the bathroom Anita was dressed in another of her sharp-looking pantsuits, and she gave me a smirk while wiggling her bum a bit, “You really need to learn some manners when you’re with a lady.  Hearing you go makes my bladder very unhappy!”  She shook her head at me playfully, then asked me what we should do with our day.  I thought about it and suggested sightseeing, since I had never been in this city before.  Anita laughed her warm laugh, explaining that she’d been here many times and knew all the sites, so even though it would be boring for her, she would take me around and show them to me.  I dressed and we walked to the door, then I stopped and asked, “Aren’t you going to use the toilet before we check out?  It looks like you really need it.”  “Just because I am very uncomfortable does not mean I need behave like a young girl.  I can control myself.” 

 

We left and ventured into the city.  For someone holding a brimmingly full bladder, Anita was still quite a capable tour guide.  Her steps were becoming shorter and her breathing labored at times, but otherwise she just looked like she was feeling some discomfort, not like someone who had been holding her bladder for hours on end.  By noon I was ready for lunch, so Anita took me to a nice little pub at the far end of the city.  It was 28 hours since her last pee and it had become crystal clear that it was getting very difficult for her to push her need to the back of her mind and focus on anything else.  As we were seated I noticed her bladder was swollen to massive proportions, and her pantsuit looked extraordinarily tight, cutting into her quivering abdomen.  While we perused the menu I suggested having some fun and ordering beers with our meal, to which Anita replied, “Do you want me to lose my load?  I’ve been holding for over a day and you want me to drink more??”  Before I could respond, Anita continued, “But I am a lady and my bladder does not control me or my decisions, so yes, I would like to have some beer.” 

 

One lunch and two beers each later, Anita was clearly in some serious bladder pain.  She was sitting straight up and her knees were pressed together tightly.  Between huffs and puffs, she still asked me if I wanted to continue looking around the city, but truthfully I was tired of it, so I told her we could just return home.  Anita nodded, took a deep breath in as she rose from her seat, her pee now sitting heavily inside of her, and we went back to the car.  I was sure Anita would want to stop on the way home to pee, but amazingly she did not, though when we reached her place at 4 pm I had no doubt she was nearly exploding with pee.  The diuretic effects of the beer had taken full effect on Anita, and as she waddled inside, she had no choice but to undo the top button on her pants.  There was simply no room left in them to keep them from tearing.  A quick look at her now-revealed abdomen showed a bladder that might have been swelled to 3 liters in capacity. 

 

Anita had been holding this ponderous load for 32 hours now, and while she clearly NEEDED some relief, her massive, cavernous bladder stayed shut.  I followed her in and we sat on her couch and chatted.  Another hour and it made 33 for Anita’s bladder.  Her skin was now stretched white and she was rocking back and forth in her seat.  “Anita, do you still not wish to relieve yourself?  You look like you’re about to burst!” I commented honestly.  This time Anita admitted, “You are right, I am finally going over my maximum limits.  I feel near to exploding, because surely my bladder can’t stretch anymore.”  “It’s alright, even people with iron bladders need to pee sometimes.” I told her.  “Unfortunately you are right, and it looks like I have reached that point.  I need it so badly I can barely think.  As much as I try to resist it, I can’t do it any longer.  My poor bladder of steel can’t hold it anymore.  Would you mind terribly if I went and used my own toilet now?” 

 

I looked my beautiful Anita up and down and realized that she was on the absolute verge of an accident, white knuckled, legs shaking and beginning to scissor, face matted with sweat.  I nodded that I would have no problem with her finally having a pee, and no sooner had I said that than she bolted up off the sofa and walked hurriedly to her upstairs bathroom.  I followed, of course, and was in awe of the fact that even at this extreme level of desperation Anita refused to use her hands to help her hold while she walked.  She entered the bathroom, pulled down her unbuttoned pants, sat on the cold, seldom used toilet seat, and relaxed her sphincter muscles and gargantuan bladder for the first time in just over 33 hours. 

 

“Ooooooooooooh…..” Anita sighed as the pee stream began to leave her aching bladder.  There was no gradual increase in the stream.  Clearly Anita was at her limits, because the pee burst out of her with a force.  Like a tap on full blast and then some, Anita let loose her flood of pee into the pristine toilet bowl.  I couldn’t imagine holding even a sliver of what she was letting out as the pee kept coming with no signs of stopping.  After a couple minutes Anita had her wits about her again, though her pee was still going strong, and she apologized to me, “I am sorry you have to see me like this.  I am normally a strong and in control woman, not a weak one like now.  It’s only been a few minutes and I can already feel myself emptying.  I need to practice more.  I shouldn’t ever have to find myself in this state.”  I hugged her as the pee kept flowing from her, “It’s alright dear.  I thought you did a fantastic job controlling your needs.”  She looked at me, face full of relief, and asked, “Now that you’ve seen me like this, are you alright with me waiting like this in the future?  I do not like peeing, even when it is absolutely necessary.”  At this, I smiled widely, “I hope you keep trying to control it even when you’re at your limits.”  She nodded and hugged me, still on the toilet and still peeing strongly five full minutes after she’d started, and I knew that my time with Anita would be unforgettable.

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Well that was great holditin! I have always loved your work, especially stories like 'A Policewoman Piss' and 'Girls Rule Boys Drool'. Your style of describing badder bulges is simply incredible and I wish to see a lot more stories from you!

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