Millennium Night with Sarah

Unlike my previous submissions, this one is at least based in fact. Sarah is still a figment of my imagination, as are the other characters in this tale, but most of these events did happen…
31st December 1999, and the prospect of the biggest party either of us had ever seen had Sarah and myself traveling south to London to join in the fun. We decided that the best policy would probably be to leave the car well outside the city center and take a train to Waterloo; so early in the evening we left the car at Feltham and continued our journey by rail. We arrived at Waterloo at about 7:00pm and set about deciding on a good spot to watch the fireworks from. Close to the London Eye seemed a good prospect but the crowds there were huge, so we walked a bit further along the river and finished up more or less opposite Big Ben. We were right on the riverside, on a pathway that ran alongside St. Thomas’ Hospital between Westminster Bridge and the Embankment further along towards Vauxhall.
We staked our claim to a few feet of wall at about 8:00pm, and Sarah said that she was just going to walk a bit further along and see if she could find a toilet. I suggested that Vauxhall tube station might be a good bet, so off she went to walk the half–mile or so along the river. She was gone for ages, and to my surprise when she re–appeared it was from completely the opposite direction. She had walked to Vauxhall, but all the toilets there were locked up. From there, she had gone back to St. Thomas’ and tried to use the loo in the Accident and Emergency department, but they had security people at the door and you had to be a patient to use the facilities. From there she had walked back to Waterloo, but the queues there were ridiculous so she had walked back to where I was in the hope that I knew of somewhere else she could go. It was now nearly 10:00pm, and Sarah had already been to most of the places I could think so all I could do was suggest that she tried one of the pubs on the other side of the river, but that would mean crossing Westminster Bridge, and it was quite a way.
Sarah said that she didn’t have a lot of choice as she was close to bursting so she walked off back towards the bridge. Fifteen minutes later she was back – apparently there were so many people on the bridge that the Police had stopped her from leaving the embankment and in any case they weren’t letting anyone else on the bridge. The only other place I could think of was the grassy area opposite the Hospital – there were some trees and bushes there that might give a little bit of cover, and Sarah said she had seen some men and women peeing there when she walked past earlier. Quite why she didn’t go then I wasn’t sure, but she said that she was too embarrassed to go by herself. I said it was fine, and I’d go with her. A couple we had been talking to offered to try to save our place by the wall, and we both set off the other way along the embankment.
By now it was getting on for 10:30pm and the crowds were pushing in from all directions. It soon became obvious that we were trapped on the pathway – there was no way out through the throng so we made our way back to our spot on the wall. Our new friends had managed to save our place and as soon as we got back the girl, June, said she was so glad we had been quick, as she was desperate herself – would we try to hold her place while she went as well?
We explained the problem we had encountered and her face fell. I overheard her talking to her boyfriend “what am I going to do? – I can’t wait much longer” and it was then that I realized she was holding herself under her coat. I glanced at Sarah who was stamping one foot and then the other – I had thought at first that she was cold but now it was obvious she was doing a pee–dance. Then she reached inside her coat as well. She leaned across and whispered, “please do something – I’m going to wet myself.” “Okay” I whispered back, “Follow my lead” and I squatted down next to our bag, which was on the floor between us. I pretended to hunt through for a moment or two, then I looked up and said “Sarah, do you know where the camera is honey?” “It’s in the side pocket isn’t it?” she replied, “just a minute, I’ll give you a hand,” and she squatted next to me. “Thanks” she said, “I think I’ve got the idea.” A moment later her jeans and knickers were round her knees and although I couldn’t see anything in the darkness I could hear her pee hissing out onto the ground. I carried on pretending to hunt for the camera while Sarah tried to avoid peeing all over her shoes – just then June looked down and saw the enormous pool forming between Sarah’s feet. “Oh God no, I can’t hold it” I heard her say to her boyfriend, and then amazingly she undid her trousers and let them drop about halfway down her legs. She reached into her coat, adjusted something, leaned forward slightly and then a huge jet off pee shot out in front of her and spattered onto the embankment wall. I realized that she was holding the front of her knickers out of the way while she peed. “I’m so sorry,” she said, “I couldn’t hold on any longer, and when I saw you were peeing I just had to do it.” “That’s OK,” said Sarah, “I just wish I could pee like that – I’ve just soaked my left foot!”
Gradually the two girls’ flows subsided and clothes were re–adjusted. The fireworks at midnight were spectacular, but I’ll always remember Millennium night for other reasons!
Derbyshire Pee Lover