Airports and Evian

Jodi took another swig from her Evian bottle, rammed the car into gear and accelerated violently away from the red light. “Typical”, she thought, “they pick the junior team member for the worst assignments.” Just five minutes ago she had received a call from her VP asking her to fly to Los Angeles that same evening to give the standard corporate pitch to a new sales prospect tomorrow morning. She was booked on the 5:30 flight leaving Philadelphia and was now rushing back to her Center City apartment to pack and prepare for the trip.
Pulling into her parking space she took a minute to reflect – the advertising company she worked for paid her well, very well, and in these tumultuous times at least she had a job. She emptied the Evian in a few gulps, jumped out of her car and rushed up the front steps and the flight of stairs to her apartment. She figured she had just enough time to pack, arrange for someone to feed her cat and then hightail it to the airport. Fortunately she was used to these assignments and had an overnight bag already packed. Jodi added a swimsuit and a couple pairs of clean underwear and she was ready. Standing in the hallway with her bag over one shoulder and a laptop over the other she glanced at the bathroom and decided to wait until she arrived at the airport. With security being the way it was nowadays who knew what could happen, and missing the flight was not an option. Grabbing an ice–cold Evian from the fridge she left for the airport.
No sooner had Jodi sped down the Vine Street Expressway and got onto I–95 the traffic started. Time started ticking away and Jodi began to watch the clock, all the while guzzling down the Evian water. The traffic finally cleared and Jodi gunned it off the exit ramp for the airport, aware of a vague discomfort from her bladder. One thing Jodi prided herself on was a cast–iron bladder; having worked in a man’s world for years she knew she could never show any weakness in that area. It was now 4:30 and she had an hour to make the flight. It was going to be close.
Jodi parked her car right by Terminal B and dashed down to the electronic check–in. She definitely had to pee before she boarded the plane. She planned to get her e–ticket, hit the ladies room and then get through security in time for the flight. She swiped her frequent flier card, punched a few buttons on the screen, smiled wryly at the first class upgrade, accepted it and ran upstairs to security. Jodi stopped in shock at the top – the line was massive, and there was no first–class slip–in. Looking back up the concourse she saw a throng of Japanese tourists heading her way and decided to get into line. The next 30 minutes were going to be agony, but she could handle it somehow.
Stepping into line she put her bags on the floor and surreptitiously snuck her hand under the waistband of her skirt to relieve the pressure. It was only a short–term solution but it felt good. Every time she had to bend over to move her bags she could sense the pressure building up inside her. Just past security and the x–ray machine she could see the illuminated sign for the ladies’ room quietly tormenting her. There were only six people left between her and security – it couldn’t be that much longer. She shifted her weight from foot to foot and then tried squeezing her thighs together without much success. It had been years since she had been this desperate, not since that time in college when… well, anyway, that was another story. Finally she got to security and nearly lost it hefting her laptop bag onto the rollers by x–ray. Clenching her muscles together she took the laptop out, put it into the plastic container and placed her overnight bag right behind it.
“Miss, you’ll need to take those shoes off and also remove the belt.”
The belt was no problem, but bending over to take off her shoes was almost more than she could take. Maybe a tiny dribble had leaked out, but she couldn’t be sure. Putting on her best smile Jodi walked through the x–ray, and it chirped.
“Miss, please come with me, we need to check you again.”
It never rains but it pours Jodi thought, and I’m about to pour a gallon of pee all over the floor. Jodi stood still, held her arms out while the security guard wended her – all clear up top. The final check had Jodi sitting on a chair with her legs out straight. That wasn’t going to work.
“Look, this is incredibly embarrassing but I really have to pee – will this take long?”
“Miss – I just need to check your legs. If they are OK you can collect your bags and go.”
Jodi clenched her teeth and stretched her legs out for the longest ten seconds of her life. She was clear and could go. Except she knew a tiny spurt had escaped into her panties. She was so self–conscious she was sure everyone around had heard it and could smell it. She jumped up, grabbed her bags, which caused another small dribble and sprinted as fast as anyone could with their legs held together towards the ladies toilets. All through this an abstract part of her mind was still looking at the clock and realizing that she still had 20 minutes to make her flight. If she could just get into the ladies, let loose the flood and change her underwear she was golden – so to speak.
The best–laid plans never work out, as Jodi discovered as soon as she entered the ladies room. There was a line of at least a dozen women waiting for one of the stalls to open up. No way could she wait another second – except the stall right in the middle was vacant – but there was no door. This was no time for privacy and personal space, so she jumped to the front of the line and dashed into the open stall. She was going to have to pee mightily in front of a crowd of women but it was better than the alternative. She dropped her bags by the side of the toilet, ripped off her panties – which weren’t as bad as she though, but definitely had a damp yellow tint and lifted up her short thigh length skirt.
Complete and total desperation still couldn’t make her actually sit on the dirty seat. She bent her knees, leaned backwards a little and hovered over the seat. She didn’t even have time to take aim as her body decided then and there that enough was enough and made the decision for her. The hot stream gushed out of her with amazing downwards force, pounding into the bowl and making enough noise that she would swear everyone in the airport could hear her. After a full thirty seconds with no apparent respite in either force or velocity she looked up and saw the same dozen women in line either studiously ignoring her or staring with amazement. One poor girl had her hands jammed between her legs as the sound of Jodi’s stream was causing her to leak.
While Jodi was focused on emptying herself a part of her mind was still focused on the time – both how long she had until her flight and how long she had been urinating. Surely her bladder had to be empty by now. The liquid splashing down below told her otherwise. Finally, after what seemed minutes the stream slowed down to a trickle, a few drops and then stopped. Jodi pushed down, expelled another small spurt, and was done. She looked up at the waiting line of women, wiped herself with some paper, picked up her bags and strode across to one of the sinks. As she passed the desperate girl in line she said “I’d go do the same if I were you.” The girl shook her head.
For her final act Jodi moistened a paper towel, wiped between her legs, dried herself off down there with another towel, and then calmly pulled a pair of panties from her bag and slipped them on. Mischievously she wondered what would happen if she went au–naturel onto the plane. Walking out of the bathroom she heard the desperate girl gasp and then cry as a growing yellow puddle developed around her feet.
“I made the right choice,” she thought, even as she heard her mother’s voice coming through loud and clear after all these years… “And why, young missy, didn’t you go before we left?”
Gail