Sue & Joan 2 - Joan goes to the Gym

Tuesday afternoon. For a change, wetting was not on Joan’s mind this afternoon. No, self–indulgence could wait; today’s mission was Health and Fitness. A quick phone call to the Gym had renewed her lapsed membership and now she had called in at the mall to pick up some new workout clothes.
Joan’s taste didn’t run to anything flashy – just an oversize tee shirt and a pair of shorts, but a good sports bra was essential. The sports store had a good selection. Joan was admiring some bras in a pleasing shade of blue Lycra when an enthusiastic sales assistant came bouncing up to her.
“That’s our best–selling line. I even wear them myself.”
“Oh yes? What’s so good about them then?”
“It’s these new moisture–management fabrics. They’re so much more comfortable – once you’ve tried them, you’ll never go back to cotton”.
“Moisture management? I’ve never heard of it.”
“CoolMax is the leading brand–name. It’s a special hi–tech fiber that sucks up any moisture and spreads it out on the surface of the fabric where it can evaporate, avoiding those damp patches. We have shorts and underwear too, as well as the bras.”
Joan’s mind was spinning. The mention of ‘moisture’ and ‘underwear’ had sparked off a dangerous train of thought. Could she dare to wet during a workout? It was just the sort of sneaky wetting that had got her so excited when thinking about Sue’s tales of daring exploits. Joan pretended to concentrate on the selection of the right size and style of bra while continuing to examine this new idea. Her shorts wouldn’t be too visible under her loose tee shirt, so she could definitely get away with a small wetting, especially if they were black. And these new fabrics seemed to offer the chance of wetting much more before they began to leak.
“There, I think that’s the perfect size. Can I show you the shorts as well?”
“Yes. And you mentioned underwear?”
“Oh yes. You really want to have the moisture management in all the layers for the best effect. Do you want the shorts in blue as well?”
“No, I think black would be better if you have it.”
“Definitely a good combination. The shorts are great for watersports like kayaking where you’re always getting wet and need to dry out” said the saleswoman, delighted that her sales pitch looked like leading to a big sale and blissfully unaware of the entirely different kind of watersports that her customer had in mind.
Joan eventually left the store with several pairs. A handy convenience store provided two large bottles of water that she started drinking as she completed her other shopping, bubbling with anticipation at her new plan.
The gym was downtown. Medium sized, it wasn’t quite as up–market as the glass and chrome palaces you find in some areas, but it was still a nice place, serving mainly the workers in nearby office buildings. In the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, it was very quiet. A friendly receptionist handed over Joan’s new membership card and issued a warning: “It’s warm today, so make sure you drink plenty of water before and during your workout. We don’t want to see any of our members keeling over with dehydration” she smiled, indicating the water cooler.
“I will,” said Joan, drawing a cupful and draining it down.
Stripping off her street clothes in the locker room, Joan began to have second thoughts. She didn’t have much experience of wetting in small increments that these circumstances obviously required. Perhaps a small experiment was in order. To play the game properly, the first wetting of her new shorts had to take place out in public in the gym, but a quick practice in the panties she was already wearing would be prudent, just to perfect the technique. She glanced around. There was only one other woman in the locker room, and she was down at the other end, hidden by the rows of lockers. Joan relaxed herself, but nothing happened. She didn’t want to push, for fear of starting a torrent. Ahhhh, there it was. The delicious warming sensation almost tempted her to forget her plans and just give in to the pleasure, but will power asserted itself and she stopped. Yes, just the right amount of dampness, this was going to work.
Dressed in her new gear, Joan stepped out of the locker room. There were just three other people in the gym – the younger woman who had been changing earlier, and two others who looked like they had nearly finished their workout. Another water cooler was positioned handily, so she had another quick cupful and then moved to start warming up. The water she’d drunk during the last hour was beginning to make its presence felt, but she wasn’t yet confident to start while actively exercising. She resolved to wait until after the warm–up.
The younger woman finished her own warm–up, and smiled at Joan as she passed on her way to the water cooler. She rapidly downed three cups of water and started on her circuit of the exercise machines. Joan followed her example, but took only two cups. Now was her chance. A quick glance showed no one paying her special attention, and as she pretended to slowly swallow the water she relaxed and felt herself get damp down below. Heart pumping from the adrenaline as much as the exercise, she moved onto the first machine on the circuit.
Sitting astride the next machine gave a chance to check for visible damage. She’d never really noticed before how this place had way more mirrors than strictly necessary. There was nothing to be seen as yet. This exercise required a long pull against the resistance of the machine, then a moment’s relaxation as the weights returned to the starting position. An extra squirt into her underwear at each moment of relaxation added wonderfully to the sensation of tension and release, and Joan almost got carried away doing more repetitions of the exercise than the regime required. She was really quite damp now, but a quick check in the mirror still showed no sign.
Trying the same game on the treadmill was almost her undoing: a mini–squirt on each foot–fall was just too high a rate for her clothes to cope with, and she felt a drop begin to roll down her thigh. She was glad that the next exercise called for her to lie flat and raise her legs, allowing gravity to help bring things back under control. Finally, sitting on the saddle of the stationary bicycle provided some welcome pressure right where it was needed. Sure, the saddle was slightly damp when she finished, but who was to say it wasn’t just sweat?
Concentrating on her private naughtiness had quite distracted Joan from the normal tedium of exercise and it felt like she could carry on all day. Indeed, she must have completed the exercises faster than usual, as she had almost caught up with the younger woman as they completed their first circuit. They paused together for their programmed rest period, standing by the water cooler for a drink.
“Hi, I’m Melanie.”
“Joan. Pleased to meet you.”
“I was wondering how this place managed to stay in business, the first couple of weeks I’ve been coming I was the only one here.”
The two other women had already finished, leaving just Joan and Melanie in the gym.
“I haven’t been for a few months, but it’s always quiet at this time. I think they get busy at lunchtimes and after work.”
“I’m lucky my new boss allows us to work flexible hours.”
Melanie reached down for her third refill from the water cooler.
“Gosh, you certainly seem to have worked up a thirst!”
“Yup, gotta beat that dehydration.”
Carefully avoiding any give–away tremors, Joan released another spurt. It felt so daring to do so standing here talking to Melanie, just a secret between herself and her underwear. Melanie would have much more difficulty hiding such indiscretions, thought Joan, since she was obviously proud of her body and was wearing just a tight pair of Lycra shorts and a bra top. Melanie’s legs seemed to be constantly in motion. Maybe she just wanted to keep moving between exercises, but to Joan’s heightened awareness of liquid functions another explanation suggested itself. Maybe all those cups of water were getting to her?
“Time’s up, back to work!”
The exercise went smoothly, the two women matching each other’s pace. With no one else in the gym, there was enough equipment for them to do each exercise side–by–side. Joan’s attention was split between enjoying the sensations brought on by her own wetness, and covertly watching Melanie for signs of desperation. Certainly, Melanie seemed to be keeping her thigh muscles tense a lot of the time, but tense muscles are hardly out of place in a gym and could just be due to concentrating on the exercise. When sitting down, Melanie’s legs seemed to be rubbing together a lot, but then again so were Joan’s own.
As time went on, Joan gradually became convinced that it wasn’t just her imagination playing tricks; Melanie was definitely badly in need of a pee. Maybe she just didn’t want to interrupt the workout, or could she be holding it on purpose?
Finishing their second circuit, they paused again by the cooler for their rest period. Melanie was now alternately bouncing on her toes and stopping with her thighs clenched together. This time, she only drank two cups. The sexual tension and sense of daring had induced a feeling of euphoria in Joan, lowering her inhibitions; it was almost like being slightly drunk. “Looks like all that water’s getting to you now,” she said with a smile, watching Melanie’s antics.
“Mmmm. Well, it’s another muscle group to exercise.”
“Yeah, right. I’ll look out for you at the next Olympics” said Joan, putting on a fake sports announcer’s voice, “…and here in the Women’s endurance event we have Melanie well ahead of the field at 23 cups … ooooh that was a close call there but she’s still holding on…”
Melanie burst out laughing, simultaneously folding over double and squeezing her thighs hard together. “Don’t make me laugh, or I’ll disqualify myself in front of the selectors.”
“Sorry, I wouldn’t want you to miss out on a Personal Best. Go on, have another cup, you know you can do it!” teased Joan.
“Alright, just one more, so long as you have one too.”
As they hit the machines for their final circuit, Joan’s own internal pressure was rising. Although she hadn’t quite kept pace with Melanie’s drinking, she had had two liters in a fairly short time before arriving at the gym, and the rate at which she was leaking it out wasn’t keeping up with the extra she was still drinking. In other circumstances she would have been ready to abandon the exercise and hide in the locker room to enjoy the pleasure of letting it all out; but now she had challenged Melanie it was all the more important to carry on to the end without being found out. It was no longer a matter of being caught by an outsider who wouldn’t understand; now it was a matter of honor between two competitors each playing their own game to their own different rules, yet somehow straining towards a common goal.
The upper–body exercises were easy, as they allowed for unlimited thigh squeezing or even leg crossing if necessary, and Melanie rattled through the first exercise at a great pace. Exercises involving her legs were another matter, and one in particular caused great difficulty. This was a machine designed to exercise the thigh muscles, and operating it required pressure in a direction that was the exact opposite of what was needed to contain her desire to pee. Time and again she would start a repetition of the exercise, spreading her thighs apart, only to have to slam them back together again to prevent a disaster. Eventually she completed the task, though not without allowing a tiny damp spot to appear in the crotch of her shorts where a few drops had leaked out at a moment of crisis.
Joan’s problem was more mental than physical. She was not yet at the limit of being able to maintain control, but each short squirt reminded her of the pleasure that would come from a really big release. She knew that the waiting would enhance the pleasure when it eventually came, but that little voice of temptation was saying ‘go on, give it a really BIG squirt, you know it feels so good’.
Moving to the treadmill, Melanie started well but half way through the distance she suddenly needed to squeeze tight, instinctively stopped running, and was nearly dumped on the floor by the action of the machine. Joan watched with a smile, though a drop rolling down the inside of her own thigh was a cause for concern: no–one would notice it while her legs were in motion, but she couldn’t afford to let out any more; the fabric of her underwear was soaked to the limit.
Finally, they moved to the last step on the circuit – the stationary bicycle. Melanie’s teeth were clenched as she slowly eased herself onto the machine, groaning as she bore down hard on the saddle for a moment, and then shakily began to pedal away. Joan slid on to the adjacent machine and matched her pace. Before long, the required distance was up.
“Finished!” cried Melanie, coming to a stop. They both climbed off the machines, and Melanie turned towards the locker room.
“Not so fast.” said Joan, pointing at a notice on the wall, “Remember, health guidelines require a full five minutes cool–down after an exercise circuit.”
“Noooooooo!!!!”
“Yessssss!!!! Just five minutes of stretching. You can do it.” Joan led the way into some extravagant stretching moves. Melanie reluctantly started to follow, but after a short time was making each move with one hand or the other clasped to her crotch. “Come on, that’s cheating!” said Joan
“I don’t think I can do this,” replied Melanie, experimentally removing her hand. Joan was watching intently, her own arousal at record levels. Two more stretches, and Melanie jammed both her hands back between her legs. A trickle ran down the inside of her thigh. “Mmmmpfh” she said, beyond words.
A couple more half–hearted moves, then Melanie turned and ran for the locker room door, hands still clasped between her legs and leaving a trail of drips on the floor.
Joan looked around, and then quietly followed, easing the door closed so as not to announce her presence. The trail of drips led towards the showers, and she peeped around the corner. Melanie was standing in the middle of the shower area, pissing a solid stream through her shorts and rubbing herself vigorously. Joan ripped off her tee shirt and shoes, then stepped forward and started pissing her own release. Melanie was startled at the sound, but when she saw that Joan was following her lead, she relaxed and just enjoyed her own pleasure.
“Wow, that was some workout!” said Joan as they finished.
Melanie started up a shower, stepping under it still fully dressed. “Yeah. I didn’t realize that you were holding it too.”
“Ah, but I wasn’t! I was letting it out as I went along, just a little squirt at a time.”
“Sneaky! I never noticed a thing.”
“You weren’t supposed to. That’s half the game.”
“I’ve never really done it in public before – I mean, I often start filling up, and last week when I was here on my own I pushed it a bit further, but I’ve never risked losing control.”
“It does add to the buzz, though I don’t usually dare to do it when there’s a lot of people about.”
They finished up their showers, sharing wetting tales and ideas, though they had to switch back to less exciting topics when some other women came into the locker room as they were getting dressed. They walked out to their cars together, each pleased to have made a new friend.
“Well, I’ll be coming here more regularly from now on,” said Joan
“Great. See you next week.”
“Bye.”
Joan was smiling as she drove out of the car park after Melanie, thinking that now she had a tale to tell that would stand up against Sue’s daring exploits. They must get together again for a chat.
To be continued in: “A Day at the Lake”.
Arg