FUBOT 102 Posted August 7, 2019 Popular Post Share Posted August 7, 2019 (edited) A fresh story to share here before I look through my backlog and see what Omo stuff could be freshened up to bring here. This has explicit sex at the end, but you can see it coming. Besides that it is desperation! Eight lanes of traffic, lit up by the headlights of closely packed cars weaving in and out along the interstate. The rhythmic schwoop of the windshield wipers interrupted the heavy drumming of raindrops on the window. It made it nearly impossible to see anything. But it was dark outside, everyone was heading home on a Friday, all I had to do was drive straight and make sure I didn’t nod off before our exit came up. Mary-Anne, my wife, was in the passenger seat. An hour and a half ago she swore that she could never get comfortable enough in a car to fall asleep. Now her seat was reclined back, her shoulder-length black hair swept over her eyes with her head turned off to the side. Her right arm was gripping the seatbelt, it rose and fell in soft waves as she snored away. She also swore that she didn’t snore, I didn’t have the heart to record her doing it. Regardless of the churning gravel noise coming out of her nose, she looked adorable between the gloss on her lips and the black skirt she wore for the party. I was lucky to have her, that was for sure. I passed a sign, it wouldn’t be too much further until we reached our exit and were almost home. I hit the button to turn on the radio, something to cover the droning sound of the car engine and windshield wipers. As soon as I pressed the button, I regretted it. The radio came on full volume, screeching hip hop from my morning commute the day before. Mary-Anne leaped to a seated position, getting yanked back by her seatbelt as she searched the car with startled eyes. “What?! Huh!?” She snapped as if she was halfway in a conversation. I turned it back off as fast as I could, “Hey sorry baby, the radio was turned full blast.” It was hard not to chuckle at her confusion, even if I felt bad. She blindly slapped my shoulder, “You suck!” She said as she slurped to gather what was probably some sleep drool and wiped her face. She looked around outside the windows, and then let out a wince as her whole body seemed to tighten up. “Hey you can lay back down, we’re not far now.” She shuffled in her seat, and then bent forward and pulled the lever to bring the seat back to an upright position. She was squinting out the window, trying to find something, probably a sign. “How far?” She asked. “Three more exits?” I offered, not paying too much attention at first, “something like that.” Then she let out a long groan, as if I was telling her that we had to walk the whole way. Considering how long the night was, the office party we endured before needing to drive so far, it made sense. She just wanted the night to be done. “Just close your eyes,” I said while watching the road, “I’ll tell you when we get there.” I could see her in the corner of my vision, her shoulders a little bundled up. “Can’t,” She said. “What’s wrong?” I stole a glance in her direction. Her thighs were squeezed together, one of her hands balled up on her lap while the other was holding the seat belt tight. “I just… I can’t anymore,” she said. A twinge of pressure went through my stomach. A little twinkle of excitement, of possibility. Some explaining is required. In my experience, there are two types of women. There are women who say loudly, ‘I need to pee’. They will regale you with how much they drank, and how annoyed they are that they can’t go right now, and tell you how bad they need to go. Not one of these women has ever actually been urgent to pee, they just find it ‘cute’ to tell people that they have to. It is smalltalk, something to say that will give them an excuse to walk away whenever they feel like it. Then there are women like Mary-Anne, who could be on a gameshow where the answer to the puzzle is ‘need to pee’ and she would still talk around it for ages before ever admitting it. I looked over at her, and saw her shuffle her knees back and forth, telltale signs. So was her attempt to look anywhere except at me or the deluge outside. “You okay?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow and giving her an ‘I’m here for you’ grin. “Watch the road,” she growled at me. I turned back in time to see that the car in front of me was braking hard. I hit my breaks just enough to avoid full on screeching tires, and we were pulled against our belts. I could hear Mary-anne whisper, “shit.” There was traffic ahead, the cars around us all pulled into position in the gridlock. I made a futile attempt to strain my neck and see exactly what was causing the jam, and how far forward it went. I could see quite a few cars ahead, their red lights all lined up. “Can’t be too bad,” I said, “Probably just a slowdown at this next exit.” She moved her bangs out of her face, “Hopefully.” Her feet were tapping the floor. This was a blessing and a curse. There was one particular kink I always kept from Mary-Anne. She was a neat freak, a bit of a germaphobe, and I knew that there was no way she would ever accept that I like when women are desperate to pee. This was a golden opportunity, and every little moment of the mounting pressure in her body would be burned into my memory for later use. On the other hand, if this went on too long without her getting relief, it was going to be hard to mask my excitement. I needed to get her to the house, the integrity of my marriage was on the line. I looked in my rearview, and saw that cars were starting to pile up behind us. In the far left lane it looked like the HOV was still moving. Of course right now it was possible it would take a while to even get over there. Still, it was worth a shot. I put on my blinker. “What are you doing?” Mary-Anne said, a bit of a hiss in her tone. I tilted my head, “I thought I might try the carpool lane.” “It would probably take you five minutes just to get over there,” She said while shaking her head, “then another five just to get back once we made it to our exit.” There was a chance there, to press her on why she was in a hurry. I didn’t know if I wanted to take it. Not while I could already see her knees tensing as she pressed her feet into the floor in front of her. The smart move would be to keep my big mouth shut. “I don’t know,” I said, “might still be quicker at this rate.” Mary-Anne let out a groan and shifted her butt in her seat. It was like a growl of exhaustion, starting angry and ending in frustration. The last time I got to hear that was when we had to clean out our garage and she found a whole chest drawer filled with old souvenirs to sort through. She was tapping her hand on her thigh, which had the side effect of drawing my eye to her milky smooth skin. Just thinking of the growing struggle down there, it sent another twinge through my groin. Thankfully the car in front of us moved forward, and I turned back to the road to move up and fill the slot. “I can’t believe this,” she snapped, pulling out her phone and frantically going through a few apps, “what is everyone even doing out here at this hour? This is ridiculous, right? They should have been home hours ago.” I chuckled, “maybe they’ve been stuck like this since rush hour.” “Don’t even joke about that,” she said back. She wanted to smile, it wasn’t the funniest thing I’ve ever said but she knew I was trying. Instead her lips curled up and she let out a little wince. If I wasn’t paying attention, I would have missed it. “My god,” she whispered to whatever was on her screen. “What?” She shook her head, “traffic all the way up, just a red line. It is saying five extra minutes but when was the last time that was accurate? It could be 30 minutes for all we know, damn, an hour even!” “Does it say what caused it?” I asked. She threw her free hand up, “what does it matter? A crash probably, some dickhead couldn’t drive in all this fucking rain!” More cursing, a sign. She didn’t usually curse unless a situation was bad, or she was actually at her wit’s end. As if on cue, she shut up and her whole body tensed up, her back seeming to stretch up as she pushed down against her seat. She took in a sharp breath and held it, her eyes closing for a moment. “You fine?” I asked, “What’s up?” I reached a hand out, but she swatted it away like an insect and then doubled over forward as far as her seat belt would allow. “This sucks,” she murmured under her breath. We passed one exit, there were two more to go, but the traffic showed no sign of letting up. The good news was that there was an overpass. We pulled forward, and suddenly the sound of drumming on the car came to a stop. “Well look at that,” I said, pointing up, “at least we don’t have to listen to that.” Mary-anne shoved a balled up fist between her legs and hissed, “Carl.” I looked over, “Yeah?” “I have to pee,” she whispered as if it were a state secret, “really bad, like… bad.” She locked eyes with me as she said it, nodding as if she needed me to agree with this statement. Everyone in the car had to agree that this was happening. “Okay, babe,” I said, “you want me to pull over on the side, or?” She shook her head frantically as she replaced one balled up fist with another, “No no no, just watch the road. I just need to fucking concentrate. I hate this, I shouldn’t have drank so much.” I had to stop watching her. The fabric of her skirt was balling up, exposing more and more of her thighs as she shifted in place and pressed down into the material. Her face was getting flush, she was really struggling now. “Well we’re almost there, don’t worry okay?” I said, “we ain’t far.” “I know, I know, I know,” she repeated, probably more to herself than to me, “I’m fine, I’m fine.” This was getting bad, it was taking everything to make sure I didn’t erect a tower in celebration of the display over in the passenger seat. She was in a crisis, and I was trying to think of old nuns to keep little Carl from making an appearance. As time passed she cared less and less about hiding her desperation though. She was rocking herself left to right in her seat, and her thighs were locked like a vise around her whole wrist. She was still looking around, trying to find some out, some hope ahead. I could see the dream in her gaze, that she would look and see some hole in the traffic, or the cars in front of us suddenly speed ahead. Instead we were stuck there, sitting under the overpass. “Why is this happening?” she groaned, “come on, come on, just drive you assholes!” I didn’t know what to do but agree, “yeah! Come on!” “I better not piss myself, I swear to god, I’m too old for this shit,” she said as she bent forward. Everything about that statement was something I couldn’t imagine her saying in my wildest dreams. I could feel the tension up in my throat, my blood threatening to all make an emergency rush South. If she lost control, there was no way I was going to be able to hide my erection, and after she was done freaking out, all hell was going to break loose. Then again, watching her squirm in her seat, her legs trembling as she fought off wave after wave, her coming to terms with possibly humiliating herself. It was without a doubt the sexiest she had ever been to me. “We’re going to get off at the next exit,” I said. She looked over to me, sitting up a little, “Huh?” “There is a station right off the ramp,” I said while turning on my blinker, “we get off, you run in and go, we can just take the back roads home.” Mary-anne’s eyes were watering. She wiped one clear, and took off her seat belt before nodding. “Okay.” “Just hold it until then, okay?” I said, “you’ve got this.” She took in another sharp breath and leaned forward again before repeating in a hushed voice, “Hold it, hold it, hold it, come on.” We weren’t far, just half a dozen cars ahead and we could get on the off-ramp. One car moved, and I slid over into the right lane. I saw her shoulders tense and she let out a sharp gasp, “Ah, ah, damnit!” “You got it?” I asked, my mixed motives making it come out like a jumble of hope and dread. “I’m good,” she said a little too loud to be believable, “just hurry, hurry.” She wasn’t rocking anymore, she was still and her muscles seemed flexed. I could see her reposition her feet for more traction as she looked for every ounce of pressure she could put on her peehole. She had her skirt flipped up now, her hand directly on her panties. We came out from under the overpass, and the rain had actually stopped. That was a small miracle at least, one little thing to help her hold out. Mary-Anne let out a small whimpering noise, and for a moment I felt guilty that this whole enterprise aroused me at all. I put a hand on her back and ran it slowly up and down. “At least the rain stopped,” I said, “imagine if you had to listen to that too. This will be easy, just hold out a little longer, baby.” She didn’t reply, just more whimpers and frantic breathing as she held on with everything she had. I put my hands back on the wheel and tried to see if there was any way to get there even a minute faster. Even a few seconds might spell the difference. “No, no, no, come on,” she whispered again, more frantic mumbling as she fought against her ballooning bladder. The trickling of rain returned, “I spoke too soon, rains back” “Damnit, stop, please,” Mary-anne cried out before a sob racked her body. It didn’t take a second for me to realize I wasn’t hearing the rain. The traffic was stopped, so I ignored the road and turned to her. “I can’t,” she said as the trickling sound became a jetting hiss for a second, “it won’t stop, I…” She sat up, tears running down her cheeks as she pulled out one hand from between her thighs, it glistened in the low-light. “I’ve got it, please just drive, Carl.” I looked forward, pulling one car up and then coming to a stop again. The sound was gone, replaced now with Mary-anne sniffling, “it was just a second, a little leak I’m fine, I can hold it I…” There was another hissing noise as more pee hit the fabric of her panties, her whole body shivered as it did, like a sudden chill had gone up her spine. She bit her bottom lip and the tears welled up anew. But it stopped again. I put my hand on her back and resumed my rubbing, “you’re fine baby, you’re okay.” She was shaking, her face contorted as she held back full on crying. “I’ve got you, okay,” I said. Mary-anne nodded, and immediately I heard the flood banks open, a sustained hiss as her bladder began to void right into the passenger seat. She pulled up the front of her skirt to save it, and I could just make out the details in the low light. Her crotch was completely wet, that outline of her womanly lips visible as it clung to her body, slightly bulged out by the pressure of the small rivulets of pee flowing down into the darkening upholstery. She had given up now, her head back as it all came flowing out for what seemed like minutes. I continued to rub her back. “That’s right, let it all out,” I cooed to her, hoping it would stop the freak out that might come after, “I’ve got you. We’ll head home, you can take a shower, I’ll clean the seat, and then we’ll forget this ever happened.” A tremble went through her body, and I had to imagine it was the sheer relief as the sounds of her emptying herself began to subside. “I can’t believe I did that,” she said with a sob, “what am I a baby? This is so disgusting, I’m so sorry.” “Not your fault,” I said, “happens to literally everybody. When we get back, remind me to tell you a story about my first year in college.” Mary-anne sniffled, and then wiped her eyes, “Honestly, I don’t want to hear it. Thanks for being supportive though, you’re the best, baby.” I was rock hard in my seat. Worse, a stiff breeze would probably set me off. It was actually hard to drive. But thankfully the car was dark, hopefully it would all die down before we got home. Then Mary-anne shifted in her seat, pulling her rear up as if she didn’t even want to sit in the mess she made. She leaned over toward me, and put a hand on my thigh. Before I realized what she was doing, she went to lay her head on my lap. “Oh, uh…” I pulled back as if that would somehow move the stiff bulge taking up all the real estate where she was headed. Her head went down, and I found myself wishing that the traffic would vanish, for my sake now. Mary-anne sat up and reached up to flick on the cabin light “Do you have an erection?!” She yelled. I lifted my eyebrows and tried to remain calm, “I can explain.” “Oh my god, I was just crying, was that it?” She asked while shaking her head. “No,” I snapped, “not...that.” We were married, and for some reason actually lying didn’t occur to me. “What then?” Mary-anne said, her voice dying off at the end as it hit her. “No.” “Sorry.” “You’re sick, you know that?” she said, “just gross. That’s some serial killer sicko shit.” I could feel my cheeks getting warm, but it wasn’t doing anything to stop the heat down below in my loins. Honestly, it was just frustrating, knowing that this great memory was going to be tarnished by her possibly thinking of me as some kind of freak. “Hey!” I snapped back, “cut that noise.” “What?” she said, as she tried to perch herself as far away from me as she could while still avoiding the wet sponge of her seat. “Are you going to deny it? Maybe you get rock hard when it rains? Nasty.” I didn’t know how I was going to proceed, but we were passing into full argument phase. I just never had to have an argument where I defended my fetishes before. “I’m not the one who pissed myself, okay?” I said, and when she looked like she was about to say more I put a hand up, “and I was here for you, and I was as supportive as I possibly could be, I still am. I’m not asking you to do anything, I see something I like, and it happens, okay? I could bother you with the list of weird shit I see online that piques my interest but I don’t, because I love you too much for that, and I know the kind of stuff that freaks you out, and your life is hard enough without me making you dress up as movie characters and shit just to get my rocks off.” “Oh so what?” Mary-anne said with her arms crossed, “I’m not enough for you then? You looking up women pissing themselves?” I let out a sigh as a car in front of us moved up. “Mary-anne, you are the sexiest woman in the world to me, and not a single thing will ever change that. But you know what? I’m not proud of it at all, but when you pissed yourself there, I almost made a mess in my seat over here, because that was... “ I just let it trail off, she was looking away from me now, disgusted. “Nevermind,” I said, “I’m just messed up, I get it.” I dropped it, and just turned back to the road. That was it, night ruined. Sooner than later my dick would get the message and I would be stuck with a ruined car seat and a pissed off wife. Mary-anne moved toward me, and I shifted back instinctively, afraid I might catch some rage-induced slap. Instead her free hand went to cradle my fading erection. “Really?” She said with a note of incredulity, “I piss myself and you get like this?” She ran her fingers in circles, and I could feel the excitement returning right away. “I can’t explain it,” I said, “look, I’m sorry.” She leaned closer, “Kiss me.” I looked over, and she was watching me with bedroom eyes framed by tear-smeared makeup. “You…” “If I’m going to do this,” she said, “I need you to kiss me.” She came in, and our lips locked in a deep kiss before they parted to go even further. As she continued to hold me there, I felt the teeth of my zipper undone click by click before my manhood slipped free to the night air. “Mary…” She put a finger to my lips to silence me, I could smell the dense odor of urine on it. “This is the last time you’ll ever see that happen, I guess I should make it worth your while.” She licked her lips as her hands gripped my sensitive head, teasing the tip with her thumb like a joystick button. I wasn’t in any position to argue with her decision, not when I could see her eyes reflecting in the low light as they lowered closer to my manhood. It seemed unreal, a fantasy I was afraid I would wake up from at any moment. Then I felt her the heat of her breath on my dick, her lips enclosed around me, that intimate heat just before the moist insides of her mouth made contact. She took it in, and slid up my length before letting it slip out like a test run. I shivered, and she must have felt it. She chuckled at the reaction, and I looked down at the top of her head in time to see her shake it back in forth in reaction. Her tongue ran along my shaft as if she were tasting a popsicle in the dark of the car. She waggled me back and forth, a cat playing with her toy. “I can’t believe I married such a pervert,” She grumbled. I didn’t know if it was safe to laugh, or if the best path was to grin and take the insult. “If you don’t want to…” I was interrupted by her head bobbing down, swallowing me whole. Her lips gripped on to me, suction near the base, before she began that rhythmic motion up toward my head and then back down for more. Nothing was missed, my already sensitive pole was squeezed from tip to grip. Immediately I was back to my full height. The memory of what has just recently happened, her sudden decision to gift me with car head, another secret fantasy, I didn’t stand a chance. No sooner than she started to work me over was I already struggling to hold out. The sound of her breathing furiously through her nose was combined with the furious bobbing of her head just below me. Her tongue worked miracles, sliding back and forth, painting trails as she rose up, making circles as she teased my tip. Someone honked, and I realized then that I wasn’t moving. There was a space of several cars in front of me, and we had been stopped ever since Mary-Anne began her beautiful gift. She stopped in alarm, and my instincts kicked in. “Damn it,” I groaned, “Don’t stop now.” My right hand pressed on the top of her head, moving her back down as I pressed the gas and moved us forward. “We’re almost home,” I grunted. She knew what I meant, she had to, because she didn’t fight my hand. She began to work faster as I ran my fingers through that soft hair of hers. She bobbed up and down, used her hands to cup and massage, worked me over like her life depended on milking me for every sperm that I had to offer. Her ass was bobbing in the air now, as she repositioned to best be able to finish the job she had so reluctantly started. I could see her piss-soaked panties in the air as her skirt slid up in the most unbecoming way possible. More people honked at me in the dark, but I didn’t care what was happening as long as I stayed on the road and kept us both alive for a few moments longer. I was in the right lane, the rest of them could figure themselves out. She forced her head up and began to stroke my saliva-slicked length as she craned her neck to look at me. “Cum for me you sicko,” she gasped in excitement, “it better be the most you’ve ever cum.” Clearly she didn’t know what she was wishing for, but my balls were prepared to oblige. As she put her mouth to work again I could feel myself on the precipice, my whole body flexing in resistance, trying to keep this beautiful moment alive for even a second longer. There was no chance of that, not after she sank down to bury me in to the hilt, moaning into me. My legs flexed out, pushing down harder on the breaks as my load exploded out of me. It felt longer and deeper than any I had ever had before, and Mary-Anne began to moan as I could feel her gasp to swallow each and every jet of ejaculate. Her moans became more and more impassioned as it went, until she began to squeeze out the last drops she could. I let out a long groan of relief, and then Mary-Anne sat back up in her seat. It took everything in me to continue driving, even slowly. I could barely even hear the angry honking around me. We were silent most of the way back, until we got into the driveway. The motion-detector lights came on, illuminating us in the car. Mary-Anne’s make-up was a smeared mess between tears and the sheen of sweat, her hair looked like she had been in a fight. I was dripping all over my nice pants, my penis still out and limp. Mary-Anne brought a finger up to her mouth, noticed a bit of milky white fluid, and sucked it off. “Tell me something,” She said. “Uh-huh?” I replied. “Would it be like that every time I pissed myself?” She asked, the notes of disgust now subdued and mixed with afterglow. I was exhausted, and unsure, but willing to find out. “Definitely.” She nodded, “Okay then,” opened the door and got out of the car, “I’m going to go take a shower.” We didn’t discuss it any further, but as she walked to the front door, her wet skirt shimmering in the light, I could see it in her eyes, scheming and excitement. Edited August 7, 2019 by FUBOT Spacing (see edit history) littlebird, skywalker58, mikev and 4 others 7 Quote Link to comment
Melificentfan 1,215 Posted August 8, 2019 ✨ Legendary Member Share Posted August 8, 2019 That was fabulous FUBOT 1 Quote Link to comment
FUBOT 102 Posted August 8, 2019 Author Share Posted August 8, 2019 Thank you! Writing this was my inspiration for joining the site in earnest, honestly. I thought this community would appreciate it. Melificentfan 1 Quote Link to comment
gral2040 6 Posted August 8, 2019 Share Posted August 8, 2019 That fantastic. Thanks. FUBOT 1 Quote Link to comment
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