A Few Tales of a Boyfriend's Bladder

I’ll begin with an introduction I suppose. I’m a 20–year–old female, bisexual, name withheld, with a fetish for male and female desperation, although I’ll admit I enjoy male desperation a bit more. (What can I say? I love the cock.) Anyway, the following is a few stories about my then boyfriend, let’s call him Jake because I’m not about to give out any names, who was known for his habit of forgetting to/never wanting to use the bathroom, or simply not noticing he had to go until it was critical. He’d just try to ignore it, saying nothing, because he was having a good time with his friends or sit down to try and alleviate the pain until he could take it no longer, and suddenly dash off to the bathroom. I have tons of instances of him suddenly realizing he really had to pee and rushing off logged away in my mind for pick–me–ups or whenever I feel like a turn on, but I’m only going to share a few of my favorites since unfortunately most of the stories are quite short. Somehow the boy always manages to make it out dry (at least to my knowledge), but it’s really the desperation that gets me hot, so I’m hoping maybe someone else might enjoy these too. All are true stories, although the dialogue might be a little off.
First, I shall explain that I met Jake while we were both attending the same university (in the band to be more specific), so we were in very close range when school was in session, but very far apart during breaks. Sometimes all we had to keep in touch was instant messenger and a nightly phone call. It was on one of those nights that I sent him a quick message, asking if it was OK for me to call him. He said “Sure.” But when I dialed his number…
“I am so dumb…” was the first thing he said when he answered the phone.
“What…? Why…?” I asked in a confused tone while I waited for him to explain. After beating around the bush for a minute, he finally confessed.
“I really need to use the bathroom, and I should have went before you called but I forgot to…”
“Oh! I’m sorry!”
“No, it’s okay, I didn’t say anything…”
“You can go now, I’ll call you back…”
“No, because now I really want to talk to you.”
Aw. I wished he could see me grinning on the other end and slowly gliding my hand into my crotch. Every few minutes or so he would say something like, “Gah, I still need to pee.” Finally, he said, “Maybe I should just wet myself. It wouldn’t be very attractive, but at least I wouldn’t have to pee anymore…” I was speechless and unsure how to answer that. All I could muster was, “…It’s okay…” I never was brave enough to tell him about my fetish. Finally, I let him go to use the bathroom, because it was getting harder and harder to masturbate without giving myself away with heavy breathing or the like as I imagined he might have been holding himself, or even better yet if he actually had let himself go and was afraid to tell me. Ah, good times.
Another short favorite occurred while we were both at school. I had some free time and was missing him, so I decided to run over to Jake’s dorm and surprise him when he got back from class. I tip–toed into the room, checked to make sure Jake’s roommate was absent, and then climbed into his bed, stripped, and waited for his return. A little while later, Jake appeared at the door and stopped for a minute to take off his shoes. He looked like he was about to go somewhere before the naked girl lying in his bed quickly distracted him and I saw the rising bulge in his pants to prove it. Little did I know that he had actually been waiting forever to pee, but it was too late now. It was forgotten as we made love.
A little time passed and then we both needed to go to class again. So, we quickly dressed and headed to the bus stop. (Our campus is huge, so we actually have busses to get to the other side of it!)
After fidgeting a little while we waited for the bus, Jake finally said: “I just remembered, I have to pee, like really bad… like for the past three hours.” Quickly, he handed me his backpack, told me not to wait, and ran into a building while I could only stand there getting a little wet with the thought that he had been holding it all the time we were having sex. It was almost too much to take. Finally, he returned just in time for the bus and we were both able to get on it and make it to class.
I think I mentioned before that Jake and I met through band– marching band to be specific. Dork alert, I know, but I’m keeping these stories true so I have to be honest, because the next incident happened on a band trip. We were at a show at a far away location, and we were performing last as the big exhibition band, so we had a lot of time to wait before we had to get ready. So, Jake and I, along with a few of our friends, sat in the stands talking and such until we needed to head down to the busses. There, we changed into our uniforms and put together our instruments. But it wasn’t until we were walking to warm up that Jake finally said: “Is it bad that I kinda have to pee? And by ‘kinda,’ I mean really!”
“Oh, hun,” I said, “Why didn’t you go when we were in the stands?”
“I kept hearing about how gross the bathrooms were, so I didn’t want to…”
“Aww, but now where do you expect to go?”
“…I don’t know…” Jake replied sheepishly. I squeezed his shoulder sympathetically, because I knew he had a long wait ahead of him. We were separated then as the band divulged into different sections for warm up and lines for marching to the stands, so I didn’t see him for a while after that. (Our band is quite huge!) About 45 minutes to an hour later, we were finally lined up at the gate, ready to perform. I finally caught sight of him again, struggling to march the show with a little bit of extra urgency in his step. When it came time for us to bend down as part of the performance, I noticed him pressing his saxophone extra hard against his crotch. Finally, another half–hour later (yes, we perform for a damn long time!) we were done and heading back to the busses once more.
“I have to pee, I have to pee,” Jake moaned as he stripped down to his boxers as he changed out of his uniform and back into regular clothes. He then quickly left the bus presumably in search of a bathroom, a couple minutes later I went ahead and left the bus myself, but was soon attacked out of nowhere with a hug from Jake.
“I have to pee SO BAD,” he wailed to me and he squeezed me tight.
“You can go now!” I told him with a chuckle.
“No I can’t,” he whimpered, “They closed the gates…”
“Oh, hun…” I hugged him back and he was finally forced to use the porta–potty–type bathrooms we had on the busses, because he could take it no longer.
The last story I have for you is probably my all time favorite, also from band. Over summer to learn the show, we have long all–day practices that can go for five hours at a time, and the bathrooms are far away and often closed at night. This was one of those nights.
During practice, I could feel like something was off with Jake, although I hadn’t quite pinpointed exactly what his predicament was. But, it was something in the way he walked, the way he sat, the way he hurried a little when he marched. When practice was finally over he proclaimed to the masses: “Oh my god, I have to pee so bad even my ears hurt!”
“You WHAT?” I asked, trying not to laugh. Then I could see that he was actually serious as he literally waddled off the field, barely able to walk. He bent over at a 90% angle to put his instrument away because he was unable to crouch without hurting himself.
“If I sit down I’ll never be able to get up again,” he explained.
Quickly, he tried to gather all the people that were coming with us in the drive back to the dorm building, but people were chatting, stalling, and being generally slow while I could tell Jake was getting impatient. Finally, the group was together, and I got into the passenger seat like I always did. Jake was driving by default because it was his car, and he probably wouldn’t have switched even if I had asked him to.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stop somewhere on the way to use the bathroom? We’ll wait for you…” I offered.
“No, it’ll be fine,” he said. He never liked inconveniencing other people for himself. He then opened the door and stared at the car, as though he had no idea how he was going to be able to get into the front seat without hurting himself. He was having a hard time bending, and moving, he must have been in so much pain. Finally, he just kind of fell into the seat.
“Life is paaaain,” he moaned as he put the key into the ignition. There was a lot of traffic on the way back to the dorms because everyone was leaving practice at the same time. Jake was tailgating like no other as he inched closer and closer to the car in front of us as though that little inch was the difference between him making it or wetting himself.
“It’ll be ok… we’ll make it,” I said quietly, but he was too focused to answer. After ten to fifteen minutes of traffic, we finally arrived at the building. There were a few arguments about where to put instruments and what to leave where before we finally got inside, and THEN we needed to wait for the elevator. It finally came, but of course Jake’s room wasn’t until the 9th floor.
Jake was huddled in one corner of the crowded elevator away from everyone else bouncing up and down as the numbers slowly, slowly, clicked up. His hands were clenched in front of him just a little above his crotch and I could tell he was desperate to hold himself but there were just too many people around. Someone tried to engage him in a conversation, but all he could say was: “Ohhh, I’ll answer that later, but right now, my bladder is full, and I just need to pee.”
He repeated, “my bladder is full, my bladder is full” a few more times before finally, floor 9 came, and Jake rushed out of the elevator. I couldn’t follow him because I was going up a few more floors, unfortunately, so if he made it or not I honestly don’t know. The story has many different endings in my mind as I imagine what may have happened on his run to the bathroom, because I had never seen him need to pee worse than on that night.
Ah, well, sadly the two of us aren’t together anymore, but I’ll probably never let go of stories like this. I hope you may have enjoyed it, and if for whatever reason you may want to talk to me, you may e–mail me at lunadragoness@gmail.com
By: Luna