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My stories from my impromptu family holiday to the Isle of Wight.


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So I just got back from the Isle of Wight, it was a pretty good holiday and I had a lot of fun, aside from Wightlink messing with the times of our ferries in multiple occasions, but the important thing is I’m back and I have some stories to share. I’ll be posting just this one tonight as I’m tired, the rest I’ll post tomorrow I expect. Also, fun fact: if any of you were on the “St. Clare” Wightlink ferry last night, then you may well have seen me somewhere. Probably not as I was hiding from all the people for most of it though.

Story 1, the first night in the tent:

The site we were staying at was basically borderline glamping, as my mother refuses to do proper camping, but despite this the toilets were still in a separate block at the other end of the pitch. So naturally, when I climbed into bed at 19:00 after drinking 2 mugs of tea and a hot chocolate I knew I’d have to get up and go at some point, and I wasn’t looking forward to it. I stayed in bed reading until 23:30, and by then my bladder was feeling quite full, and I decided I should go now.

It was dark, my iPad was on its lowest brightness setting as I didn’t want to wake anyone else up by shining lights at them. I immediately regretted my decision to wait until I really had to go before getting up, as the minute I stood up the pressure was magnitudes worse. It felt almost unbearable. I was just about able to hold it back by holding myself and crossing my legs. I had to climb over the bed my younger sister was sleeping in, and I nearly tripped and slid along the floor. If I had done so, I don’t think I could’ve withstood it.

The next trial was unzipping the tent-flap-doorway-thing and stepping though it, I had to switch between holding myself and my iPad, while simultaneously unzipping a thing, and also dancing around to endure it all. At long last I got it open, but I was almost at my limit. I stepped into the main room, and spent several minutes jumping and dancing around, legs tightly crossed and my hand buried in my crotch, feeling the overpowering urge get stronger and stronger, while I tried to find my pyjama bottoms so I could walk to the bathrooms.

“I have to hold it in! I’m here with my family!”, I thought to myself.

Squirming still, I eventually gave up, grabbing a towel to cover myself with I decided I was just going to have to run up their naked. I kept searching however, for my shoes. Every second I felt the need get stronger, it was getting worse and worse, I might not make it if I leave it another minute.

”J-just a little longer... they have to be here... s-somewhere...”, I mumbled, feeling my stretched and aching bladder twinge at the mere thought of using a toilet.

Luckily, I found my shoes. Unfortunately, some blithering idiot had poured a bottle of water over them, and they were soaked. I grabbed at myself even harder, and tried desperately to resist the urge as I put my foot in.

It was too much, I couldn’t, the cold, wet shoe was enough to make my bladder almost give out in desperation. I gave up on my shoes, and double crossed my legs. I stood for a minute by the main tent entrance, both hands pressing harder than ever on my urethra, refusing to let even a drop escape, dancing around.

The urge weakened a little, and with a squirm and a fidget I loosened my legs. It was still agonising to walk, but I knew I had to. I struggled and fumbled to get the entrance open.

“A-ahh.. if dad’s padlocked this I definitely won’t make it long enough to find the key...”, I moaned, wanting to cross my fingers for luck, but they were to busy for me to do that.

By some immense luck, the entrance was unlocked, and I barely managed to make it though before almost collapsing of my knees. I bent down a little, trying to angle myself in the least painful way, knowing I wasn’t going to last much longer.

I forced myself to start moving again, and I sprinted towards the toilet blocks, holding the towel around my self in addition to my weakening bladder. If I didn’t have the best night vision of anyone in my family since the 1940’s (my siblings have some of the worst ever; my sister can’t see anything if she’s in a room with the lights off.) I’m not sure I could’ve done it as it was pitch black and I lacked a torch. 

I had to stop sprinting quickly, but I kept moving at a slower pace. I thought I might miraculously make it, until the rain started. As always with the United Kingdom, the weather is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get; but it’ll definitely be some kind of rain. I almost lost control were I was standing, but by sheer willpower I was able to continue.

Shockingly, I made it to the bathrooms, shivering and fidgeting, my poor, overloaded bladder wanting to let it all out.

“J-just... j-just a... few more steps...”, I murmured between moans.

I sprinted again into a cubicle. The feeling was amazing, the last few hours of very badly pent up pee came pouring out at immense speed, the relief was incredible.

Somehow, I’d survived it.

End of Story 1:

 

Edited by RagingPython
Spelling, restructured last few lines. (see edit history)
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I love it - memories of camping with friends (one in particular) who’d put off the run to the toilet for as long as they could in the morning, even after drinking quite a lot the previous evening. Even better was the campsite where we’d had to take our own chemical toilet with its own little tent - that one friend in particular made it clear that she was going to hold it until we’d had breakfast and could go to the public toilets in the nearby town, despite obviously needing to go quite badly!

Looking forward to the rest of the stories 🙂

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1 hour ago, homeanddry said:

I love it - memories of camping with friends (one in particular) who’d put off the run to the toilet for as long as they could in the morning, even after drinking quite a lot the previous evening. Even better was the campsite where we’d had to take our own chemical toilet with its own little tent - that one friend in particular made it clear that she was going to hold it until we’d had breakfast and could go to the public toilets in the nearby town, despite obviously needing to go quite badly!

Looking forward to the rest of the stories 🙂

That would be totally arousing for me to know that she was needing to go so badly and she still is holding it for so long!

I think you did like that too!?

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8 hours ago, BB1BBB said:

I've been to the Isle of Wight loads of times. Seems like I was missing out on a hotbed of Omorashi all this time. 😄

Looking forward to the next installment now.

I’ve only been twice, but I expect it’s more the accommodation I was staying in rather than the island itself. If I wasn’t camping, then it’s likely all but one of the stories wouldn’t have happened. 

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