The Bathroom was Dirty!

Debbie was running as fast as she could through the concourse. Well, running was being generous considering how tight her short little skirt was. As the athlete amongst her group of friends it bothered her that she was lagging yards behind them. They all just had to catch this train otherwise they’d be stranded in New York for at least three hours. Plus on top of all that she had to pee like you wouldn’t believe – no, Debbie wasn’t too happy right now. It had all started innocently enough, Debbie and three of her postgrad classmates from Princeton had decided to go into the city that evening and hit the clubs. Debbie, Jennifer, Suzi and Shanique had ridden the train in earlier that evening, had a great dinner and spent the evening at one of the hottest clubs around. Debbie had been knocking back tropical drinks all evening, and moving from the warmth of the club out into the cold December night, back into a superheated cab, back out into the cold outside Penn Station and then into the heat again had played havoc with her bladder. She literally hopped down the flight of stairs to the platform and bounced into the carriage. No more than twenty seconds later the 1.19 a.m. train pulled away as Debbie drunkenly slumped into a seat next to her equally inebriated friends. The conductor came by almost immediately, told them it was a light load tonight and asked for their tickets. “Where are the bathrooms?” Suzi asked urgently. “Last carriage,” he replied,” we’re running a short train this morning.” As the conductor moved away Suzi shot out of her seat, with Debbie close behind her. About a minute later they got to the last carriage, opened up the bathroom door, and recoiled in disgust. Not only was the smell atrocious, but also the floor was covered about an inch deep with some kind of gooey fluid. No way could they seek relief in there. Suddenly the ache in her lower stomach seemed twice as bad. Debbie told Suzi she was going back, when Suzi grabbed her arm and whispered that she couldn’t wait because she had to more than just pee. Suzi walked through the carriage, collected some newspapers and a plastic bag, and then told Debbie to stand watch as she moved between two sets of seats. Suzi put the newspaper on the floor, then spread out the plastic bag on the newspaper, took some tissues out of her pocketbook and pulled off her panties. Debbie was amazed – only Suzi, desperate as she was, would think to clean up afterwards. Hearing Suzi’s strong stream, not Suzi’s silent stream she drunkenly noted, made her clench her muscles tight less they let go in sympathy. Several minutes later Suzi emerged, tied a knot in the top of the plastic bag and threw it in the trash. “I feel sooo much better now”, she said happily, knowing full well that Debbie wished she felt even half as relieved as Suzi did. They rushed back to their carriage and told the other two about the situation with the toilet. Shanique looked like she was in as bad a shape as Debbie, while Jennifer thought for a few seconds and then came up with an idea. She suggested they play a hold–it game, and see who could last the longest if they each put $50 in. The three desperate amigas agreed to try it, with Suzi as the neutral judge to make sure no one cheated. It was a sign of how desperate they were that the finish line was the car park at the train station, and not their dorm. Debbie figured that it was about fifty minutes to Princeton, and also realized that was going to be about twenty or thirty minutes too far. Just to make things really interesting Suzi reached down into her huge pocketbook and pulled out a bottle of wine she had “borrowed” from one of the bars. They all had to take a mouthful every minute to keep the pressure on. Debbie looked at her friends to check out her competition. Shanique was bouncing up and down in her seat, hands pressed tightly between her legs. She was doing the pee–pee dance sitting down. Jen looked more composed, but Deb knew that she was feeling the strain too, shifting her weight every few seconds and keeping her thighs squeezed together. Debbie herself just ached, she couldn’t remember ever feeling this full and it was starting to hurt. The rumbling and bumbling of the train over the tracks didn’t help either, nor did the repeated top–ups from the wine bottle. The train shuddered violently and shook from side to side – each of the girls squealed and frantically shoved their hands even further between their legs. Deb felt a touch of moisture as she willed her fingers to push up against her peehole even harder still and knew she had let a tiny spurt out, it couldn’t be much longer now. Totally buzzed as she was, she also decided that there was no way she was going to ruin her expensive French panties, so she stood up as best she could and took her panties off. They still looked dry and clean so she packed them in her pocketbook. Jen and Shan stood up and did exactly the same, prompting Suzi to double up laughing. She made them all sit in one of the triple seats and lift their skirts up so she could take a picture. One dark, one light and one shaved she noted, giggling violently. Deb felt a burning sensation down there as the pain around her bladder increased even more as she tried not to start laughing. The sports jock in her came to the fore and she decided that this was a contest she was absolutely going to win. How could she, physically fit as she was, and used to giving her all, lose out to her friends? The bottle of wine came around again and Deb finished it off with a single swig. She looked at the bottle longingly, 750ml. She was sure that by now she could fill it at least twice. A sudden “Oh, my God” snapped her out of her reverie, and she looked across to see Jen bent over double with both hands forced up between her legs; “I’m leaking”, she yelled. She quickly shifted her skirt out of the way and shuffled forwards on the seat, bringing her knees up around her chin with her heels resting on the edge of the seat. “Look out below” she said. Sitting across from her, Deb could see a tiny trickle running down between her friend’s lips and glistening between her cheeks. Jen reached down, and using two of the fingers on her right hand spread her lips apart in a “V”. She gasped as a huge stream spurted out of her, not downwards onto the floor, but clear across the seat in a big yellowish arc, landing on the seat back only a foot or two away from Deb. Deb watched in fascination as the torrent seemed to grow stronger and arced higher, and for several seconds it actually cleared the seat she was sitting on and splashed onto the seat behind them. Just as abruptly the cascade stopped, Jen mopped up a few desultory final spurts and she was done. “Well, that wasn’t supposed to happen… I was sure I was aiming downwards. But once I got started I just had to see how far I could go. It reminded me of learning to pee standing up when my brother challenged me when I was six!” By now, Deb was so desperate that she was past the point of caring, and her muscles and nerves had been strained for so long they had become numb. If she didn’t think about it, she really didn’t have to go – except for that almost unbearable ache between her legs. Shan was hanging in there too, although they’d had to change seats to avoid the remains of Jen’s jet and the smell. They felt the train slowing down as it approached Princeton Junction and it finally jolted to a halt. Neither of them could stand up straight and their friends had to physically help them off the train. No one else got on or off the train, and as soon as it headed south towards Trenton the station was deserted. “What do say we call it a tie?” Shan asked. “Absolutely,” replied Deb, “but why don’t we use distance as a decider? Let’s see who can pee the furthest and they get the money and we’ll have a p–trophy made up.” Moving down into the car park, they both leant against the back–end of a BMW to ensure an equal starting point and the other two girls were distance judges. The competitive nature of Deb emerged again, and even in her drunken state she decided to let Shan go first, so when Suzi said “GO” she didn’t push, and instead looked over and watched Shan literally explode as her pee shot everywhere, hissing violently, before she stabilized her stream and got speed and direction. After watching this Debs bladder just caved in and started emptying as fast as she could. Deb leant back as far as she could to get some height and almost immediately her stream was splashing down almost two feet further then Shan’s. Shan was trying almost every position to get more distance but couldn’t beat her. Then she shut down in mid–stream, readjusted the grip and spread of her pussy lips, grunted, and watched with satisfaction as a jet landed several inches beyond Debs. After a few more seconds Shan was done and she gasped with relief. Deb was not to be beaten, and even after nearly forty seconds of constant high–speed pissing didn’t feel anywhere close to empty. Instead of stopping like Shan she just pushed harder and watched in satisfaction as her pee arched almost above her head before falling to the ground beyond Shan’s best effort. She had won, but she wasn’t done. Her friends watched in amazement as she continued to pour it on for at least another thirty seconds before the final drips fell onto the back bumper of the BMW. “Wow – I wonder how much that was?” Suzi asked. “At least $100 worth,” Deb answered, puzzled by how wet and slippery she had been before she even started to pee. Could watching Jen have turned her on that much?” “We’ll have to have a rematch.”
Gail