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The Bursting Boy on the Tube


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AN: This is a fictional story based off a real life event. Yes i did see a desperate boy on the tube and yes he did leak in his jeans. Trust me, im as shocked as you lot are. The rest is fictional xo 

It was late January, and I had travelled to London for a concert. I had gone alone because none of my friends had wanted to see the band, but I still wanted to go and since there’s nothing like the comradery of a crowd, I bought a ticket. The day had gone off without a hitch and the concert was beautifully memorable, but it was the journey back to my hotel that night became interesting.

I had left the concert before 10, which is rare usually for a concert but fortunately this one was an early start, early finish affair. I strolled my way through the streets of Central London enjoying the unusual hustle and bustle I don’t usually get to experience in my hometown, towards the tube station. I swept through the station, clunking through the barriers and being smacked in the face by the stale hot air being pushed through the tunnels as I gradually descended the escalators. I saw a tube pull up to the platform and rather than running for it at the last second, I decided to wait the painfully long time of two whole minutes for the next one. This would turn out to be the best decision I made that day.  

The next tube screeched up alongside the platform and I made my way on and was lucky enough to be able to sit down. Just as the warning beeps were sounding a group of three people rushed onto the tube as the doors closed behind them. There was two boys and one girl. I couldn’t tell you what the girl looked like, or one of the boys for that matter. My attention was very much somewhere else. The second boy in the group looked… uncomfortable. He was stood with the other guy and the girl standing around holding onto a pole in the doorway. I watched and listened for a few minutes and I managed to gather a little bit of context to the situation. I didn’t know their names but for the sake of this story I will refer to the girl as Amy, the boy as James and Mr Uncomfortable as Matt.

So, it appears that Amy and James were friends and they lived together somewhere in central London. All three of them had been out for the day and it was almost painfully obvious that Matt was trying to impress Amy. It was almost funny to imagine that all day he had followed her around like a little puppy dog in the hopes that he might just have a chance. Don’t get me wrong he was a pretty good-looking boy, just under 6-foot-tall, little bit of muscle and a lovely tan, unusual for England. But Amy seemed to have placed him safely in the friendzone.

I looked him up and down as I sat there listening. He had dressed to impress. He was wearing probably his nicest pair of blue jeans, a red polo and a nice grey jacket. I know this seems a bit creepy on my behalf but I’m getting around to why I was so intrigued. He stood stiff as a board. His middle was slightly bent, and his legs were rigid while his hand gripped onto the pole for dear life. My head was swimming ‘what if he really has to pee’ I remember sitting there thinking this was all wishful thinking. At the end of the day this was the culmination of my wildest dreams and it all just seemed to good to be true.

Tube stations passed and Matt and Amy kept talking. I’m certain he would’ve stood there all night following her around just to be close to her for a few more moments. But his answers started to get more forced and shorter and his expression became more pained. That was the moment. Amy turned to Matt and said “I’ve had a really good day. I take it you’re coming back to ours for a bit?” I looked Matt right in the face, and I saw the pain. It was almost in slow motion watching him calculate the pro’s and con’s of staying or leaving. He tipped his head “Yeah I might meet up with you later, I’m getting off at the next stop” Everything about him made me think he was struggling with something and I kept wishing for him to be bursting to pee but every part of me kept saying it was too good to be true. Amy looked back confused “Why”. “I really need the loo”. BINGO I sat straight up in my seat. I was right. Oh, God, I was right okay here he is desperate stuck on a tube. I looked again and saw that both Amy and James were playing on their phones and making some kind of small talk, but Matt didn’t look like he could move. Every inch of his body was held squeezed tight, now very obviously trying to hold back his desperately full bladder in front of the girl that he was so clearly into. Every now and then it looked as though he went to reach down to his crotch. I imagined how desperate he must have been, his bladder pulsing. I thought of him waiting all day, not nipping off to the toilet, putting it off in the hope of stealing just a few extra moments with Amy, maybe to embarrassed to admit he needed to take a break. Scenarios swirled in my head.

In that moment I don’t know what it was, but I looked up from my thoughts and caught eye contact with Matt. He was bright red. He looked like he was straining hard. I let my gaze slip back down. Oh my god he was leaking. A small and slow darker blue trail was making its way down his right leg. He looked at me again, he knew I had seen. Suddenly, a more forceful, urgent gush flew down the same leg. This time he shifted. I think he had to otherwise he would’ve completely soaked himself right there. I had started to shift slightly in my seat from arousal I imagined his bladder pulsing heavily with white hot agony in every ripple of desperation and every jolt from the bumpy train tracks. I could see the pain of the fullness but also the desperation of not embarrassing himself in front of Amy. He pinched his crotch. I was ecstatic. Before I knew it, the tube was pulling into station. Matt couldn’t really say much at this point. I wondered how he was even going to be able to move without soaking himself. He said the most hurried goodbye and flew off the tube as soon as the doors opened. So, I followed. This sounds endlessly creepy but as a 22-year-old woman with a desperation and wetting fetish my dreams were coming true right before my eyes of seeing an adult male have an accident in real life, I couldn’t help myself but see where this would end.

He stood still again on the escalator probably trying to regain some kind of control after flinging himself off the tube moments earlier. My mind was racing with arousal, I let the potential scenarios run circles round my mind and I couldn’t help but wonder where he was aiming to get to, to finally release his aching bladder.

We left the tube station and he started walking stiffly, in a very ‘I really need a wee and I’m trying very hard to hold it in and look normal’ kind of way. He was walking tightly to the edges of the buildings; I presume so that if he reached that point of desperation, he could use them for balance. I kept envisioning being involved in the scenario, being stood next to him whispering words of encouragement as waves of desperation bombarded his bladder, hearing the desperate gasps and whines of pee forcing its way out, placing my hand over his throbbing crotch feeling the fresh blooms of heat with each leak. Okay I’m getting to carried away. The further he walked away from the station, the thinner the crowds were getting around us and there was still nowhere to pee.

Without any warning he stopped dead in his tracks, tucked his back into a doorway and snapped his legs tight crossed together. He stood straight up and clenched every muscle he had; I don’t even think he let himself breathe. It looked as though he was trying to rise his own body up maybe in the hope that it would keep his urine from travelling down. He couldn’t stop it. The glistening leaks on his jeans lit up under the streetlights in this dark doorway in the city, they turned into a cascade of steaming hot shining pee. I’ve never seen anything like it. He was soaking himself completely and totally letting everything out. It was rushing out of him; his eyes were closed, and he was breathing heavily torn between breathing for the relief of finally emptying his full sore bladder and recovering from the effort of trying to hold in an inhuman amount of pee. His jeans were saturated, and the pee kept streaming down the front of them. I watched him shiver and start to grow hard in his jeans. God, I bet he felt good. I flipping felt good, I was getting too carried away watching as he relieved himself. As he was finishing what looked like the best pee of his life, he raised his head, opened his eyes and caught me stood right there watching.

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