Bladder Massage

This is just a fun little incident that I love to think back to.
It had been after a long night of incredible (and I mean incredible) sex with my fianc’. I woke up before he did, sat up in bed, and just watched him sleep. God, he was so gorgeous. Then, I felt the urge to pee. It wasn’t too bad, just one of those morning pees. I was about to get up, but he woke up. We smiled at each other and I cuddled up next to him. He playfully started kissing me, but I was distracted because my urge to pee was getting stronger –– a LOT stronger. As he started to gently kiss down my stomach, I knew I had to go relieve myself. I think he saw my discomfort and figured out that I had to pee.
“Baby, please…stop.”
He looked up at me, feigning a questioning look. “Why?”
I sighed, not wanted to admit this to him because I knew he was in a playful mood. “I really have to pee.”
“No you don’t.”
“…Yes, I do.”
“No…You don’t.”
I knew it was pointless to argue because my fate was decided right then. From the mischievous grin on his face, I could tell that he was going to use my predicament to the best of his advantage. His hand slowly slid down to my lower abdomen, and I feared that he would apply pressure. I felt a small, painful contraction in my bladder. “Really, don’t…I have to go so badly…”
His hand stopped, and for a moment I actually had a hope that he would let me go to the bathroom. My hopes faded however, when that mischievous grin crept back onto his face. He propped himself up and straddled me, sitting most of his weight on my upper thighs. I was grateful he hadn’t sat on my bladder. As soon as I thought that, I felt another contraction, and my thighs started to ache from me subconsciously squeezing them together. He leaned over and gave me a romantic kiss, but as I kissed back, I felt his hand gently press against my bladder. I gasped, breaking the kiss. I clenched harder and bit my lip. He grinned and pressed a little harder. Despite myself, a very small spurt dribbled out. I responded by clenching yet again harder. “Baby, please, I’m about to wet myself….”
He didn’t respond. He kissed me again, and then sat back up. Suddenly, he set his weight into the hand pressing on my bladder…greatly increasing the pressure. I moaned in agony and a spurt of pee came jetting out. I promptly stopped it, but that just made it hurt even worse. Tears started to stream from my eyes as I began to beg.
“Please…I have to pee so bad, stop it. I’ll do whatever you want.”
He considered for a moment, then (thankfully) took his hand away from my bladder. “Okay then,” he said, grinning. “I want to see you hold it all day.”
I had backed myself into a corner. I no longer had as much pain as before, but now I wouldn’t be able to go to the bathroom. I sighed, agreed, and got up, damning myself. Whenever I moved, my bladder would contract. There was no way I could hold it all day. I sat down in a chair in our bedroom, legs squeezed together tightly. Just the act of sitting down made some dribble out. I squirmed, doubled over, shifted, did anything I could but to no avail. I got up and pulled a tank top on and tried to slide into some shorts with my legs still squeezed together. It proved excruciatingly difficult, but managed it in the end. I tried to go into the living room, but it seemed like a 10–mile walk down the hall. I was halfway there when I decided to give up. I ran to the bathroom and tried to open the door, only to find that it was stuck. My fianc’ had purposely jammed it. I turned around to see him laughing at me. My thighs ached so terribly, and I let a little bit out to relieve the pressure, but that made things ten times worse. I glared at my fianc’.
“Aww…sugar, don’t be mad at me. You’re the one who agreed to it.”
I sighed. He walked up behind me, reached his hands around my waist, and began to massage my bladder– lightly at first, but then stronger…roughly. I tried to withstand the excruciating experience, but then he started firmly poking my bladder, shoving his hand against it with all of his strength. I couldn’t do it any longer. I let go, hearing the rushing hiss of my pee as it hit my shorts and streamed down my leg. He grinned widely and massaged my bladder more, increasing my flow. I could feel him hardening against my back. What seemed hours later, the last few drops of pee crept out. My fianc’ picked me up, rubbing my clit through my sopping wet shorts, and carried me into the bedroom to clean me up.
Marlfox