On the Bus

It was 11:45 and Nancy had just finished her filing. That was a normal duty and what came later was her notion of simply completing the job. She realized she had a full bladder and she was squirming somewhat in her tight gray gabardine skirt as she worked. Not to worry as she would be finished in a few minutes and would be free to go to the bathroom on the way home.
It was a fine Saturday morning in 1957 that Nancy found herself working. The building was open and therefore the office was open. She wanted to impress her boss with her sense of duty. Most of what she was doing could have been put off until Monday but there were two reports her boss had asked her to do that were outside the domain of her job description. As she began to type the two– page report she found herself squirming a bit. She really needed to pee but she also really needed to have these reports ready for Monday morning. Ironically, the not so necessary was being overcome by the necessary.
It was now 12:15 and Nancy had finished typing the last page and she was very proud of her report. She gathered her things into her black leather handbag and prepared to go home. The office was vacant but if anyone had been there he would have been attracted to the picture Nancy presented when she stood by her desk to leave. She wore a gray gabardine suit with slim skirt and nipped jacket. Under the jacket was a black blouse. Underneath she wore all black: bra, slip, panties, and garter belt. Combined with her wavy black hair and dark eyes Nancy was a striking figure indeed. Perhaps, sexy would be the better adjective. But, sexy was too forward a term in 1957.
She arranged her desk in two halves; one half for each summary and synopsis she had written on the two books her publisher boss had assigned her. She was crossed– legged as she did this. OK now for the bathroom and the bus home. When she got to the bathroom she found the doors locked. “What the hell is going on,” she thought. Then she remembered that she had been told that building security locked all unoccupied rooms at 12:00 noon on Saturdays and left then locked until 0800 Monday morning. She crossed her legs momentarily and wondered, “What am I going to do?” “I have to pee in the worst kind of way.”
She tried to think of a public restroom in the downtown area that would be open after noon on a Saturday and couldn’t come up with a single one. She also knew that her bus would be coming to the stop within the next five minutes and that she had better be there as the next one would be an hour later. Needless to say Nancy felt trapped. She desperately needed to pee and had nowhere convenient to go. Just as her desperation reached its height the bus pulled up.
She boarded feeling somewhat relieved. At least, she would be on the move and toward her home. She should be able to hold it for the three–mile trip that would ensue. She found a seat near the back door and sat down, crossing her legs immediately. She had to fidget a bit getting the sparse material of her skirt arranged to allow her to cross her legs tighter. She desperately wanted to place her hand in her crotch but that was impossible without partially disrobing.
Once the bus was under way she counted the blocks it traversed and made mental calculations as to how much farther she had to hold her pee. Each block brought added pressure to her bladder. When she noted that she was just four blocks from her getting off spot she began to relax. “I’ve got it made now as I’m sure I can make it the rest of the way.” “ Once I am walking I can hold it forever.” Thank God.
But, at that point there was a detour sign. The city had closed off her street for repairs. The bus turned 90 degrees away from the straightest course that would take her home. “Oh dear God, can I make it now?” She was bouncing in her seat, squirming back and forth, and fighting tears as well as her swollen bladder. She knew her struggle was all over. In a matter of seconds she would wet herself. And, wet herself she did. Half way through the detour she completely lost control. Her pee streamed out and was forced up into her lap by her crossed legs. She noticed a spreading dark stain in her lap and quickly moved her hands off her lap. She felt the growing puddle under her buttocks and thighs and she noted that pee caught between her crossed legs was spilling out onto the hem of the side of her skirt. She finally regained control after about 2 or 3 seconds of peeing. But, the damage was catastrophic.
Her face burned as she came to realize the sight she would present when she stood up to disembark. She was overwhelmed with a feeling that she was the loneliest person in the world. She was totally alone in her wetness. No other adult would do this, how can I live this down? I’ve got to walk a block past my neighbors after I get off the bus. Everybody will see what I have done and will laugh at me. What am I going to do? It was time for her to signal her desire to depart the bus.
She half stood and pulled the signal cord. Her wet slip was sticking to the back of her legs. She had a large dark patch in the front of her skirt and a small patch at the hem of the side of her skirt. The back of her skirt was one huge dark patch as it was drenched. Where her skirt folded in front as she sat a small dark patch was forming as pee was traversing upward from the crotch of her panties by capillary action. “I wish I could die,” she thought.
She disembarked the bus by the rear door absolutely sure that the few passengers in the back saw her plight. She knew they would be watching her in the future and that she wouldn’t be able to look them in the eye. She hoped none of her neighbors were out and about. She wanted to hide somewhere and bawl her eyes out but she knew she wouldn’t. She held her head erect and walked the half block to her house as proudly as she could. A boy and a girl in their pre–teens skated by Nancy as she soggily strode home and Nancy overheard the boy ask the girl after they had passed “Reckon that lady will get grounded when she gets home?”
She thought that this couldn’t be happening, I can’t believe I have done this; it just has to be some sort of horrible dream. She felt like the loneliest person in the world out there on the street in obviously peed clothes. Her options for concealing her accident were so few that she wouldn’t even consider them. She just had to buck up and take it and that is what made her situation so horrible. Dear God, thought she, could this be real? Please let me be having a horrible nightmare. I just can’t believe this happened, she thought as she walked along with wet garments slapping the back of her legs and wetness in her crotch spreading in front of her skirt. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and she wanted desperately to get control of herself. It just has to be a bad dream. If I close my eyes maybe I’ll wake up and close her eyes she did.
Nancy immediately awoke alone in her bed in her apartment. Her bed and pajamas were soaking wet. She slowly came to realize that she had been indeed dreaming as she wet her bed. She lay there awhile trying to collect her thoughts and finally remembered that it was probably the wee hours of Sunday morning. A glance at the alarm clock confirmed that it was 5:00 AM. She had been out drinking the night before…had consumed a lot of beer. But, was it a dream? Well, it had to be. But, it was so real. It was so real that it was scary. Then she realized that she was wet, smelly, and cold.
She got out of bed and sloshed her way into the shower and turned it on. As she stood under the all–cleansing stream of warm water she completely voided her bladder and shucked off her pajamas. These she rinsed and wrung out and pitched out onto the tile floor. Then she placed the stopper in the drain and squirted bubble bath into the tub of rising water. Soon she was languishing in a warm tub full of bubbles and she settled into its embracing hug and masturbated.
Completely relaxed she began contemplating the events of the past hour or so. Was her dream of wetting herself in public in broad daylight a portent? It was so real. What should she do to avoid that ever happening, after all there were circumstances where such a thing could happen. The dream explicitly showed how a few innocent decisions could lead to disaster. While she mulled these questions the warm water and bubbles took over and she drifted off to sleep without resolving a single question. And that is why we will hear more about Nancy’s trials and tribulations with bladder control.
DaveJ