Sarah Stops Being Sensible - Part 3

It was Saturday morning, and Sarah had slept late. She awoke with a fierce, burning need to pee. Simon was already up, and she glanced at the bedside clock. 10:00 a.m. Then she jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, where she immediately dropped her pyjamas around her feet and sat on the toilet. As a powerful, apparently never–ending torrent gushed out from between her legs; she began to do some mental arithmetic. Since she had been living with Simon, she had abandoned her habit of taking a leak before going to bed. She slept like a log, especially after good sex, and never awoke till she was absolutely bursting. On this occasion, she calculated, it was a good fourteen hours since her last visit to the toilet.
The torrent finally came to an end. As the last few drips came out, she reflected that it was now a full year since she had stopped being “sensible”. No more precautionary visits if she was going to be out of reach of a lavatory, no more moderating the amount she drank before setting out on a journey.
Her new policy had had two results. First, and by far the most important, it had cemented her relationship with Simon. Now they had lived together for some time, and she felt very secure. She could well imagine spending the rest of her life with him. She knew what turned him on, and if it made him happy, she didn’t mind a bit of short–term discomfort. In fact, she was getting to enjoy it.
But a second benefit was that over the last year she had enormously improved her control. Her bladder now seemed to be about twice as big as it had been before, and she felt very confident in her ability to hold on, even when really desperate. She had acquired, she thought with certain self–satisfaction, a sphincter of steel.
She washed her hands and went to make breakfast, experiencing the warm glow a woman feels after emptying a very full bladder. As she was boiling the kettle, Simon came in. He had been in the living room, checking his e–mails. She noticed that he looked slightly apprehensive.
“Any news?” she asked cheerily.
“There is, actually,” he replied hesitantly, “I’ve had a message from Amanda. She’s got the chance of a job in London, and she’s coming for an interview. She wants to know if she can stay with us for a few days.”
Suddenly Sarah felt as though a shadow had been cast over her. Simon had, of course, told her all about Amanda. They had been lovers for quite some time – in fact she was one of the only two serious girl friends he had had before meeting her. They had split up when she was offered a job abroad, and he was unwilling to go with her. So they had never actually quarrelled. Sarah knew that they occasionally communicated by e–mail, but that did not worry her in the slightest. A bird in the hand…
To have Amanda back in London would be a different story. Would the former passion be rekindled? And Sarah remembered the discussion she had had a few months ago, in the bathroom of the flat, with Simon’s sister Lucy. Lucy regarded Amanda as a very unscrupulous person, who needed to be watched carefully. Lucy had told her the story of how Amanda had split Simon away from his childhood sweetheart Rosie, by setting up a situation in which poor Rosie had wet herself in the street after an evening in the pub and a long journey home.
Sarah had never mentioned that conversation to Simon. She felt it would have been simply reviving things that were much better left forgotten. But she could not help feeling uneasy at having Amanda at close quarters. On the other hand, she would look absurdly jealous if she raised any objections to Amanda coming. So she said: “Good, that should be really nice. I’m looking forward to meeting her. I want to find out what sort of woman attracts you.”
Simon smiled with relief, clearly happy that his apprehension had been unnecessary.
About a week later Simon and Sarah took the car to the station to meet Amanda. After a few minutes they saw her getting off the train, and she came over to meet them, carrying two heavy bags. She gave Simon a warm but restrained hug, and greeted Sarah warmly, saying: “I’ve heard a lot about you – and all good.” And then, hardly pausing to draw breath, she went on: “Where’s the loo on this station? I’m really desperate.”
“Sorry,” said Sarah, “there isn’t one. Can you hang on till we get home? It will only be about five minutes in the car.”
“I suppose so,” said Amanda, pulling a face. “I went to the pub with a couple of friends and forgot to go before I got the tube. I’ve been in agony for the last twenty minutes.”
They walked to the car park, and as Simon loaded her bags into the boot of the car, she hopped from foot to foot like a schoolgirl needing to leave the room. They drove back to their flat. “You take Amanda upstairs,” said the ever solicitous Simon, and I’ll park the car and bring up the bags.”
Sarah led Amanda up to the front door. Having been desperate on that particular tube line more times than she could count, she felt a bit of sympathy for Amanda in her need. Amanda now seemed a little less agitated, and actually stopped to admire a picture hanging in the entrance hall, but Sarah quickly directed her to the bathroom and she rushed inside. When she emerged a few moments later, Simon had brought the bags up. “That’s better, “ she said, “I really, really needed that.”
Over the next few days Amanda was out most of the time, attending interviews, having informal meetings with her potential employers, and meeting up with business contacts and old friends. On the one occasion when she arrived back when Simon was at home, she rushed straight to the bathroom, and emerged with a story of an excruciating bladder–stretching experience.
Sarah was actually beginning to like Amanda quite a lot. She was warm, friendly and could be very funny. She was a bit of an actress, and did wonderful impersonations of people she had met, imitating their manner of speaking and their gestures. Sarah now felt bad about her previous apprehensions, and started to wonder how reliable Lucy’s story had been. Lucy, after all, was a close friend of Rosie, and was bound to be prejudiced against the person who had replaced her in Simon’s affections. And Amanda, while being friendly, was making no attempt to flirt with Simon. Sarah began to hope she would get the job and move to London; a pretty young woman like her would soon find a boy friend, and they could all be friends together.
On the Sunday Amanda had no appointments, and they sat and chatted for some time. It was a glorious summer’s day, and Simon suggested they should go out into the country for a walk. Though they had both drank several cups of coffee neither woman visited the toilet before leaving the house.
They walked down to the station. By the time they got there Sarah was already feeling a mild urge to pee, but of course there were no facilities on the station so she had to bottle it. The train journey lasted about three quarters of an hour, and by half way Sarah was really feeling quite desperate. If she had been alone with Simon she would of course have told him about it, but she felt slightly inhibited in Amanda’s presence, so she simply crossed her legs and uncrossed then again quite frequently until they eventually arrived.
As they got down from the train she stared up and down the platform until she saw the sign she was looking for. “I simply must go to the toilet,” she said, and turning to Amanda, enquired: “Are you coming?” “No, I’m fine,” replied Amanda, so Sarah went off on her own, returning a few moments later feeling very relieved.
They walked through the small village and into the woods. When they had been going for about a quarter of an hour, Amanda suddenly stopped, tapped her foot on the ground urgently, and said: “I simply must have a wee. I’m bursting.” And she vanished into the bushes.
She was completely hidden from sight, but not out of earshot, and after a minute Simon and Sarah could hear the sound of her pissing; a sound like a bath–tap turned full on, which went on for quite some time. Sarah glanced at Simon and saw that he was clearly aroused.
Sarah was puzzled. Only twenty minutes ago Amanda had said she felt no need to pee, but now she was clearly desperate. Could she really have had no inkling that she was going to need to go so soon? It was possible, she supposed, though it was unlikely that a high–powered businesswoman like Amanda didn’t know how to avoid getting caught short in a high–profile meeting.
Sarah also recalled that Simon had grown up in the country, and that in childhood and adolescence he, Lucy and Rosie had been accustomed to relieving themselves in the woods. Amanda must have known all about that too, and known that doing it in the open air would evoke happy memories for Simon.
Sarah squeezed Simon’s hand, and said quietly: “It’s really nice being here out in the countryside. We must do it again, often.” The unspoken message was clear: “I’ll pee in the woods for you any time you like.” She had peed once before when on a woodland walk in the deep country, and she hoped he would remember that too.
Amanda emerged from the bushes, buttoning up the top of her jeans. “I enjoyed that,” she said, smiling at Simon. “Back to nature.”
Sarah was seething inside, now beginning to realise that Lucy’s warning had not been an invention. But it would obviously be foolish to make an issue of it, and she slowly calmed down as they continued on their way.
They walked for nearly three hours. It was a fine day, but not too hot. Eventually they came out of the woods on the outskirts of a village on the same railway line that they had travelled out on.
As they came into the main street, Amanda stopped and did the pee–pee dance. “I hope there’s a loo somewhere around,” she said, “I’m desperate again.” And she stood there, hopping from foot to foot and looking if there was any sign of a public convenience.
“There’s a really nice pub just by the station,” said Simon, who seemed to have a comprehensive knowledge of toilet facilities in London and the Home Counties. “I’m sure we could all do with a drink after that walk.” They made their way down the street to the pub, which, in the late afternoon, was virtually deserted. As they entered the pub, Amanda stood there, tapping her foot urgently on the floor as her eyes searched the room. Quickly she spotted a sign indicating that the ladies’ lavatory was down the stairs. Sarah turned to Simon and said: “I’ve got to go too. Get pints for Amanda and me.” She ran down the stairs and caught Amanda up as she entered the Ladies’. There was only one cubicle and Sarah waved Amanda into it. Then she leaned back against the washbasin and waited her turn.
It was very quiet down in the basement, and Sarah could hear everything. For a while there was silence – Amanda seemed to be taking down her jeans and underwear in quite leisurely fashion. Eventually there was the sound of running water, but it lasted only a few seconds. Then there was silence again until the flush was pulled.
Sarah’s brain was now working at full speed, and by the time Amanda emerged from the cubicle she had completed the plan that she had been vaguely thinking about during the walk in the woods.
“That’s better,” said Amanda, patting her tummy. “Really?” said Sarah in an aggressive tone that took Amanda aback. “I thought you were desperate.”
“I was,” said Amanda. “After all that coffee this morning.”
Sarah glared at her. “I know what a desperate woman pissing sounds like, and that little trickle you just produced wasn’t it.”
Amanda was now thoroughly alarmed at this new aspect of Sarah. “Well,” she mumbled, “perhaps I exaggerated a bit. But I did need to go.”
Sarah looked at her with controlled fury. “I know exactly what you’re playing at. You know that women peeing excite Simon, and you want to try and get him to take notice of you. You think you can come back to London, and try and start over again with Simon.”
Amanda began to mutter: “You’ve got it all wrong,” but Sarah went on: “You can’t fool me. I know what you did to poor old Rosie.” At this Amanda went white and said nothing.
“Would you like me to explain to Simon what you’ve been doing?” she asked.
Amanda was alarmed now, and seemed almost on the verge of tears. “Don’t do that,” she begged, “Please. Please.”
“Right,” said Sarah, now sounding uncharacteristically bossy. “I won’t say anything on condition you do exactly what I say. When we go back upstairs, you drink the same quantity as I do– a pint for every pint, a half for every half. And for as long as I don’t go to the toilet, you don’t go either. Stick to that, and I won’t say anything to Simon. Understood?”
Amanda nodded sheepishly, and mumbled, “understood”.
Without a further word Sarah entered the cubicle. She actually needed to pee quite badly, but she carefully squeezed out every last drop. She was preparing for the ordeal ahead.
When she got upstairs, Amanda seemed to have recovered, and was talking to Simon as she sipped her pint. Sarah drained her glass quite quickly. It was clearly Amanda’s turn to buy the next round, so she too drained her glass and enquired if anyone wanted a second drink. A look of dismay, rapidly concealed, came over her face when Sarah asked for another pint, but she went to the bar and got three more pints. The second pints went down rather more slowly, and Amanda was already looking rather uneasy. Simon suggested going home, but Sarah insisted that it was her round, and that she wanted another drink. Simon, who knew nothing of what was going on, wanted no more. Amanda asked for a half, but Sarah said she was having another pint and came back from the bar with two pint glasses, which Amanda looked at as though she was going to burst into tears.
When Simon went to the Gents’, Amanda looked as though she was going throw herself on Sarah’s mercy, and plead that the conditions be withdrawn, but before she could open her mouth Sarah snapped: “An agreement is an agreement.”
Sarah was now considering her options. Having drunk nearly three pints she needed the toilet rather badly. If she went before leaving the pub it would not be a question of “just in case” but of a burning urge. If she did go, it would let Amanda off the hook, and she would not have such an opportunity again. But if she didn’t go, it would mean waiting at least an hour and a half till they got home. Even her capacious bladder and her sphincter of steel were going to find that pretty hard going. And she remembered Lucy’s other warning. Desperate women turned on Simon – but he found the thought of them actually wetting themselves disgusting. It had been Rosie’s accident in the street that had driven the final nail into their relationship and opened the door for Amanda. Suppose she wet herself on the way home… That could be the end for her and Simon.
“Nothing ventured, nothing won,” she thought and drained her glass. “Right,” she said, “time we were getting back.” She saw Amanda’s glass was still half full, and added: “Drink up.” Amanda scowled but dutifully emptied her glass and stood up.
They walked to the station, and within a few minutes a train came. Amanda climbed on board and immediately sat down on her foot, with her shoe pressed hard into her backside. There were no amateur dramatics now, no pee–pee dance or hopping from foot to foot. She looked pale, tense and very miserable. Simon asked her if she was all right, but she just said she felt tired after the long walk. None of them said much during the journey. Sarah was in considerable pain by now, but was consoled by seeing that Amanda looked a lot worse off. She reflected that Amanda probably had far less experience of the real thing, as distinct from acting.
At last they arrived at their home station. It was only a few minutes walk now. As they came out of the station entrance in the evening sunlight, Sarah said quietly to Amanda, unheard by Simon who was a few steps behind them: “When we get home I’m going to have a nice hot bath. Turn the hot tap full on, and fill it up, then wallow in it for a long time.”
Amanda was already limping along, so desperate that her whole body seemed to be twisted. But this was the final straw. She shuddered, apparently unable to cope with the thought of running water, plus the prospect of being excluded from the bathroom for a long time. Quickly she stepped to the edge of the pavement, and stood on a rainwater grid. Within seconds the piss came flooding out of her. On and on it streamed, soaking her jeans and pouring into her shoes. By standing on the grid, she had at least avoided the ultimate humiliation of having to stand in a puddle of her own making. But to any passer–by (of whom fortunately there were only a few) who cast a glance in her direction, there could be absolutely no doubt as to what had happened to her.
If mere talk of bath taps had caused such a catastrophe for Amanda, the actual sight of running water sent a fierce spasm through Sarah’s body. For a moment she thought she was going to lose control, and join her rival in humiliation. But she held tight, as though grasping a rope for dear life to prevent herself falling over a cliff, and the spasm passed.
Now Amanda had started to cry, and Sarah was beginning to feel sorry for her. This was compounded when she looked round at Simon, who was regarding the whole spectacle with total horror and disgust. One look at his face was quite enough to confirm that Lucy had been right, that he found actual wetting repulsive. “It’s all right,” she whispered to him, “I’ll look after Amanda. It’s a girl thing.”
She took Amanda’s arm and led her along the road, glaring fiercely at anyone who seemed to be staring. Simon followed a few paces behind, trying to look as though he wasn’t with them. They were soon home, and although Sarah’s bladder felt as though it was going to explode, she helped Amanda undress and took her wet clothes to the washing machine, offering to lend her some clean clothes. Then she told Amanda to go and have a bath, and the poor woman, still weeping, went into the bathroom.
Still Sarah held her water, her steel sphincter doing its heroic duty. Only when she heard that Amanda was in the bath did she go into the bathroom (they still hadn’t got round to mending the lock) and sat herself down on the toilet. At last, at long last, she could pee, and the torrent gushed from her into the bowl like a miniature Niagara. Even by her standards it was the longest pee she had ever done, and she began to wonder at just how much her body had been able to contain. As she peed she looked at Amanda in the bath and said: “That was for Rosie. Now keep your hands off my man.” Amanda, concentrating on removing all traces of urine from her thighs and feet, said nothing.
The next day Amanda told them she had decided not to take the London job, and that she was going back abroad. She left almost immediately. They never heard from her again.
As for Sarah and Simon, they lived happily ever after. Sarah had to be a bit sensible during her two pregnancies, but basically she did not change her habits. As her two charming daughters grew up, she sometimes told them to visit the toilet before a journey “just in case.” The girls must have wondered why their Mum didn’t practise what she preached.
By: Jay–Gee