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This story follows my 'Too shy to say (again)' story, which you can find here: 

 

I ended up renting the room and living with the landlady for two months before I moved away to start another job. Although she was a lovely person, she used to take really long showers, which lead to a couple of desperate experiences for me. 

I came home from work one day much later than usual as I'd gone for a couple of drinks with some colleagues at a local pub. On the walk home I was absolutely bursting to go for a pee, I had not gone to the toilet since earlier than afternoon just after lunch and the pints of beer were now quickly filling up my bladder. It was quite a long walk, 30 minutes or so, and as I got closer to the house I started to get so desperate that I was almost jogging. In fact, while walking along a narrow footpath around the corner from the house, a woman walking in front of me stopped to let me walk by her. I apologised as I hurried past, and feeling a bit less shy than usual (perhaps it was the beers!) I actually admitted to her that I was 'dying for a pee' and was 'trying to make it home!' which made her laugh out loud. By the time I finally got the the front door I was really frantic and was jiggling on the spot as I unlocked the door, trying not to pee myself. I got inside, took off my shoes (gritting my teeth as I had to bend down and undo my laces, squashing my bladder which by now was visibly bulging), threw down my bag and walked quickly to the bathroom, unzipping my suit trousers in readiness for what was going to be a very relieving pee. Except that pee was going to have to wait, as my landlady was showering.

I sighed in frustration and bent forwards, squeezing my cock through my boxers for a second before straightening up and walking into the living room. I paced up and down, squeezing myself through my boxers and glancing longingly at the locked bathroom door, desperately trying not to pee all over my suit and on her hardwood floor! I was glad that the other lodger wasn't home, as I was way past the point of being able to hide my desperation. After more than ten frantic minutes of pacing, moaning, bending and cock squeezing the shower was still running and I knew I wasn't going to be able to wait. I was too shy to knock on the bathroom door (and considering it was her house, it would have also been pretty rude) so I decided to go out into her garden and relieve myself behind her garden shed. I didn't want to risk squashing my bladder by bending over to put my shoes on so I just opened the back door and hurried out into the garden in my socks, but luckily it had been a warm day and the grass was dry. Hoping the neighbors wouldn't notice me, I ran down the garden with my suit trousers still unzipped, squeezing my cock for all I was worth, and rushed behind the shed. I immediately pulled my cock out and moaned as I started peeing, relieving myself loudly into the grass. I was peeing a strong stream for ages, relishing the feeling of finally getting to empty my bladder. I remember pushing my pee out in front of me as far as I could, because I didn't want to get any on my socks! Finally relieved, I zipped myself up and went back to the house to make a nice cup of tea!

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1 hour ago, WetDave said:

You should have waited outside the bathroom trying to hold on. It would be nice to imagine you waiting there, obviously desperate with a noticeable wet patch showing when your landlady came out of the bathroom!

If I had waited any longer, not only would I have had a wet patch but also a very wet trouser leg and a large puddle on the floor!

I was desperate a few more times while living there, including one Saturday morning when I woke up late with a very full bladder and had to wait ages before I could get into the bathroom, pacing around in nothing but a pair of boxers.   

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