Posted by Lionheart on January 19, 1999 at 09:29
...the 18th of December, to be exact, and I had taken the day off to prepare for our holiday drive to my parents where we usually spend Christmas.
Needing to run several errands that day, I got up early and saw my wife and daughter off to work and school, respectively, and then set about planning what I needed to do. Of course, having almost the whole day to myself meant that I could indulge in "other' activities as well!
First stop was the tag office to get a new license plate, but on the way there I stopped off at a local convenience store and bought a large Diet Pepsi. It was only a few minutes to the tag office from there, and I didn't expect any urgency to develop, but sitting there, waiting my turn, anticipating what I might do later that day, was very exciting.
After the tag office, I needed to drop off some Christmas packages to be mailed, so I went to the post office to get that task squared away. I guess by the time I got there, it had been at least the better part of an hour since I had drank the Pepsi, and was beginning to feel a fair urge to go. however, since the post office was near my place of work, I decided to stop in for a few minutes to check my box for any important messages or items that I could knock out of the way in a few minutes time.
As it turned out, there were a few phone messages that had come in earlier that day, so I took the time to answer them before checking my work email. By now, the urge was getting quite intense, and took a good deal of physical control and mental attention to deal with.
Oh, yeah, I needed to call my wife, because, being a typical husband, I had forgotten one of the stops I was supposed to make later that day. (Turns out it was the vet's office, to get some medicine for the cat). After adding that item to my list, I said goodbye, hung up, and rose to leave....
And I could barely stand up straight, even doing it slowly! I seriously doubted that I could walk up the stairs and out to my car at this point, so I very reluctantly decided to go ahead and stop in the men's room before leaving. It was only about 10:00, so I could "fix" this minor setback easily.
After a very long whiz, as I have come to call it most of the time, I decided to go upstairs to the break area, which features all the free tea, coffee, hot chocolate, and cider you could want. I sat down with a large glass of tea and USA Today, gulping the tea down in less than five minutes. Then, I drank another. Finally, I filled the glass with water and drank it a little more slowly as I prepared to finally leave and continue my errands.
Next stop was an Albertsons' grocery store, to make an ATM withdrawal for our trip. I was getting quite full again by this time, to the point that I would be able to let go with no reservations in the parking lot, should the opportunity present itself. On leaving, however, there were no eligible female spectators, so I continued holding and left.
I drove through a local park, but saw no one there, as it was a weekday and was getting a little cold and drizzly here in Kansas. However, the driving also insured that the urgency would do nothing except get more intense. Poor me! :)
I decided that I would do like I've done before, and pull into a convenience store that I knew would have locked restrooms that require you to borrow a key. So, I headed for a Phillips 66, and pulled up next to the restroom, which was in view of the girl inside. I tried the door, and of course it was locked, so I acted a little tense and went inside, and had to wait for a minute behind another customer.
When the girl saw me, she asked how she could help, and I told her I needed the restroom key, and it was a "minor emergency." She smiled and gave it to me, and I walked out toward the door, psyching myself for the moment. When I got to the door, I deliberately tried inserting the key into the incorrect hole (there are two holes on these doors at certain P66 stations) and had the expected results, which allowed me to increase the level of desperation in my actions.
Just as I was about to start letting out a series of spurts, a guy walked by behind me and politely mentioned that I needed to use the other keyhole. I think he was some kind of manager there. Anyway, having been advised and not wanting to have a guy be the only nearby witness, I suddenly got that "amazing boost of extra control" that I've heard people talk about. Foiled again, I went inside and waited in the restroom for about two minutes, and walked dry and calm back to return the key. I also bought a Diet Coke.
Back on the road, heading for another part of town and anther P66 station, I grew extremely desperate, and experienced surges of pressure as my bladder desperately tried to relieve its contents into my slightly faded jeans. I was having to clutch myself quite often, and after several minutes, I felt a short hot spurt that spread out to about the size of a half dollar.
(Slight digression: ever notice that we often seem to classify the size of our spurt spots relative to U.S. currency, plates and saucers, or sporting equipment?)
Back to the desperation. I pulled into another P66, and parked where I could be easily seen from most angles, and did the same door check. By this time, I had spurted again, and the spot had grown to the size of a paper half dollar.
The attendant didn't notice anything unusual when I came in and asked for the key, and she simply handed it to me with only a casual smile. When I got to the door, I noticed a fuel truck had pulled up, and a couple of guys were starting to pump gas into the storage tanks. Once again, I got cold feet, and this time went inside and did as little as I could to relieve the pressure and regain a fair amount of control. I'm very reluctant to let myself go when I think that a guy is going to be the only major witness to what happens. It's just the way I am about this, I guess.
Zero for three now, I proceeded to a grocery store to buy some laundry detergent, as I remembered that I would need to do laundry later that afternoon (!). We have a Food 4 Less about a half mile from where I live, and I went inside, again feeling ready to burst. By the way, I had on a somewhat heavy coat that comes down to just below my crotch, so the noticeable damp spot from the few spurts was not immediately obvious to anyone.
I paid for the detergent and started out into the parking lot, using shorter steps as I got to my car. I had parked near several other cars, some of which people were getting into and out of. I was in plain view and about 25 feet from a car that a woman was loading groceries into. I pretended to wrestle slightly with getting the keys out of my pocket and holding the back with soap, shifting from foot to foot. After glancing out the corner of my eye to insure she was still there, I suddenly stood still, spread my feet, and completely let go.
I stood still for at least 30 seconds, looking somewhat sheepishly at my jeans as they were suddenly flooded with intense warmth that rushed hurriedly down my legs, over my ankles, and onto the ground. The lot was at a slight angle, and the puddle slowly grew into a small stream that ran under my car. I didn't look at the woman to se her reaction, but if she had looked at me, she would have definitely had a decent view of the front of my jeans as they darkened suddenly. She also would have seen me breathing a little heavy from the feeling of massive relief and intense warmth that felt absolutely, excruciatingly great!
As the pressure subsided, I got back in control, and sat down on a towel and plastic sheet I had brought as part of the plan. It was a short drive back to my apartment, where I was able to get out and walk upstairs without anyone seeing me. By the time I had returned, I had to go again, and so I sat on the toilet, jeans and all, and let go once more before changing into another pair of jeans(my faded "toll booth" wranglers, for those of you who've seen some of my posts from last year).
Well, I still had about three hours of time to myself, and wanting to make the most of it, I began drinking copious amounts of tea and water once again, and changed into a dry pair of jeans, which were somewhat darker than the others but would still contrast quite nicely when soaked. I decided to head for the mall.
I had in mind to drive around the mall for a minute or two, park near one of the large stores like Dillard’s or Penney’s, and then walk slowly toward the entrance, feigning a losing battle with desperation (which wouldn’t require much acting on my part). I was glad to see that almost every entrance had a good quantity of eligible spectators, and so I parked near Penney’s and got out of my car and began walking slowly toward the north entrance to the store.
Just as I was about to give myself a final “go” for launch, however, I saw the mall security guy come slowly around the corner, in his little white Lego truck, with the blue lights blinking. Foiled yet again. I went into Penney’s, looked around for a few minutes, and then left. I didn’t want any part of having the security guy get interested in what I was up to.
I drove around for awhile, contemplating where to try next, and then realized that there’s a P66 station near downtown Wichita, and so I headed there, clutching myself every few moments to stem the waves of pressure trying to explode into my jeans. After a few minutes, I found the station, and pulled up next to a gas pump. This time I was wearing a windbreaker jacket, which afforded no protection as far as concealing an accident.
I noticed not only that the restroom was outside the main business area, which came as no surprise, but that it was unisex as well. As I stepped inside, I couldn’t help shifting from foot to foot, and slightly crossed and uncrossed my feet. I looked exactly like I wanted to, a guy that was desperate and just starting to go far enough that I couldn’t help showing it. Another woman was in line in front of me, paying for her gas and a couple of other odds and ends. Things weren’t happening real fast in there, so I decided to play it for what it was worth, and began to let small amounts fill my penis, and then try to clamp shut, which, of course, only makes it spurt into the front of my jeans. This happened about four or five times, resulting in a paper dollar sized wet spot that started growing slowly from my slight bulge down to the front of my right thigh.
The woman ahead of me turned to go, and as she did so, she GLANCED AT MY CROTCH! I thought that was pretty okay of her, and I’m sure she had to see what was happening, but she left without a word or second glance, and I didn’t stay focused on her for long, except to notice that she may have been Hispanic, late thirties/early forties. I turned toward the counter, and immediately noticed the restroom key hanging next to the window, so I reached for it and took it off the hook, and said “There’s what I’m looking for…”
And then it got really interesting!
The woman behind the counter, a medium height, slightly chunky but not unattractive blonde, quickly announced that “Our restroom’s out of order.”
Temporarily off guard, I looked at her quizzically, and asked “You mean…totally out of order?”
“Yes,” she said firmly, and then continued “And the next person who takes a poop in there is going to be in real trouble from ME!”
I think at this point that her firm attitude about it was mostly for show, but in fact it was really out of order (although no sign was posted). By this time, I had hung the key up on its hook, and was trying to think of something to say. Before I could, she told me sorry, I would have to find somewhere else.
“Well, I can’t…because it’s too late,…’m starting to have an accident!” was my reply, as I suddenly willed myself to relax, while at the same time hobbling toward the door as the front of my jeans became warm and dark from the flood of relief as it reached full speed.
As I had turned to leave, she exclaimed “OH GOD…I’m sorry…I’m really sorry!”
Not wanting to stay in there and get their floor wet, I walked the five steps to my car, and stood there for the better part of a minute, watching the stream flood my jeans all the way to my ankles, and then splatter quietly onto the cement. I was in full view of the woman inside, but didn’t look up until I got into my car to leave, I couldn’t really notice if she had watched, because the lobby window was tinted and there were lots of cigarettes and other display material around the window.
I drove back once again to the apartment, backing into the empty spot next to the door, and went upstairs unnoticed.
I’m sorry it took a month to get this written and posted, but I think most of you understand my lack of any large chunks of time to indulge in these activities and write about them. I guess that’s the price we pay sometimes to maintain discreetness and secrecy. Anyway, hope you all enjoy it!
LH
Email: lionheartokie@hotmail.com