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Accidental hold and wetting at uni


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I've been reading and enjoying the stories on this site for a while now, but I decided to create an account today because I finally have a story of my own to tell and I want to get it down while the emotions are still fresh. 

 

This happened today. I'm an extremely shy and self-conscious guy, so I'm very careful not to let myself get into a dangerous situation with my bladder, but today was the perfect storm. It's the second week of the new semester, so I've been busy with introductions and activities to get to know all my new students. I teach English at university and although I'm 30, I look extremely young, so I try to remain very serious and professional in front of my students, many of whom appear older than I do. Since it's introduction week, I have to talk more than usual. Talking more than usual means drinking more than usual. New classes also make me a bit nervous, and I sip my water when I'm nervous. So I've been going through a lot of water this week.

 

Today was a particularly busy day -- starting at eight, finishing at five, and giving a conversation class across campus over my lunch break. Usually I can slip off to the bathroom between classes, but today my students had questions to ask me after class. I was so busy, I didn't even have time to think about or notice my bladder until lunch time.

 

And then boy did I notice it. I was bouncing my leg through the whole class, and talking too much to try to distract myself. By the end of class, I was feeling more than desperate. All I wanted to do was dash for the bathroom. My bladder was aching, and I was convinced I could feel it getting fuller by the second. I could feel the pressure all the way to tip of my penis. For the last few minutes, I slipped a hand under the desk and grabbed myself as discreetly as possible. When class ended, I was about to make a dash for it when I realized I had to help my students rearrange the tables we'd moved. Lifting the heavy tables put so much strain on my bladder, it was everything I could do to keep from grabbing myself or crying out. I couldn't imagine the shame of having an accident in front of a group of students, especially new students that I'll have for the rest of the year. The only thought in my head was getting the tables back in place. Every movement was torture.

 

Finally the tables were back  in place and my students were leaving. I hadn't even thought beyond that moment, to the next step, but now that I was there I realized that if I didn't sprint across campus immediately, my students would be left outside the locked classroom. No time to relieve myself before. I'd have to make the long sprint across campus, let them in, and then excuse myself.

 

I was glad my students were gone, because there's no way I could have kept the pain and distress out of my face as ran down the steps. There's nothing worse than stairsteps on a full bladder! I was terrified of letting a few drops out, but somehow I made it. Now I just had to get across campus.

 

Around the lake. In the rain. 

 

Water, water everywhere. 

 

I swear, that trip across campus felt a thousand steps longer than it usually is. I let a few groans escape but kept control of my bladder, and I could finally see my building. 

 

I focused on keeping my face neutral and my gait as natural as I could make it on the way inside. I felt like I was about to explode. I couldn't remember ever being so desperate.  I'm sure my students must have noticed my face as I let them in the classroom, and I could barely pretend to walk decently. I told them to work on their vocabulary lists and then I almost sprinted down the hall. It was empty, so I allowed myself to grab my crotch, squeezing hard. I was praying that the bathroom -- it's a single stall -- wouldn't be occupied, and miracle of miracles, it wasn't. I ran inside and turned the lock, intensely relieved to finally be in front of a toilet.

 

I think it was that sense of relief that did me in, that and standing in front of the toilet and releasing my death grip. The moment I let go, I lost control. I mean, just lost it. In a split second I realized that there was no stopping it -- that I could already feel the warm, wet surge spreading into my briefs and pooling -- that I was full-on wetting myself in the middle of a workday, in a busy building full of my students and colleagues. The sheer panic of that split second took over and I jerked my pants down and sat down so hard I cracked my spine against the back of the toilet. I prefer to stand to pee but I knew I couldn't stop pissing and all I could think to do was to get it into the toilet and try to contain whatever damage had already been done.

 

I looked down and saw the piss pooled in my underwear, starting to soak through, but relatively slowly -- the thick material was my saving grace. I ripped my shoes off, then quickly tugged my jeans off my legs before any more piss could seep through from my underwear. When my jeans were free, I sat there, listening to my stream hit the bowl, half submerged in an intense feeling of relief, and half still reeling with horror and shame. 

 

My briefs were soaked and dripping, and there were splatters of pee on the floor and even on the wall. After I wiped everything down with toilet paper, I noticed a few drops on my shirt, but thankfully I'm wearing a dark patterned shirt today, so it didn't really show. My jeans were what I was most afraid of.

 

I picked them up and examined the inside first. There were two separate splatters on the front, where my piss had first exploded and where it had splashed when I yanked my pants down, and other splatter on the butt where some had splashed out from my pooling briefs. All three stains had soaked through to the outside.

 

I sat there for a while even after I was finished, and I felt completely frozen. My students were sitting in the classroom waiting for me under bright florescent lights, the minutes were ticking by, and here I was with pee-drenched underwear and noticeably splattered jeans. I didn't know what to do.

 

There wasn't much I could do, really. I cleaned everything up as best I could, used toilet paper to wipe the piss off my thighs and groin and shoes, then wrung my briefs into the toilet and stuffed them into the bottom of my suitcase. I pulled my jeans back on and washed my hands, and then I had no choice but to go back to class.

 

I kept my briefcase in front of me when I went in, and stayed behind my desk as much as possible. I don't know if my students suspected anything. I was trying as best I could to act normal. I had counted on the splatters drying quickly, but there was another problem I hadn't counted on: after the initial horror wore off, the memory of my own desperation, and of that intense warm feeling of flooding my underwear, came back to me and -- combined with the feeling of my cock and balls rubbing freely against the slightly damp inside of my jeans -- was making me rock-hard.

 

It took me almost that entire lesson to get control of myself. I couldn't come out from behind my desk until the last fifteen minutes, and even then I was hyper paranoid that my students would notice something. 

 

When I got home, I snuck my briefcase with my soaked briefs past my roommate and told her I was wet from the rain and needed to change clothes. Now I'm sitting on the couch with a fresh, dry pair of underwear, typing out this story. As much as I love stories about desperation and wetting, I sincerely hope never to experience one quite like this again. It was a bit too close for comfort!

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On 2/2/2018 at 5:40 AM, Despholder said:

Thank you for sharing. Nobody noticed after all? Can only image the psychological pressure of the uni and your possition, must have made this very though and that asside... intense

I'm pretty sure nobody noticed, thank goodness. My students were looking at me a bit weird, but they always do that at the beginning of the semester while they get used to my accent and my weird sense of humor, so it's hard to say. But yes, it was very intense -- I honestly don't know what I would have done if I'd been visibly wet. It was bad enough feeling the wet spots and knowing that my soaked briefs were in my...um...briefcase. (How did I not notice that pun before??)

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  • 3 months later...

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