To Sleep, Perchance, to Piss

Our long awaited spiritual retreat weekend was finally upon us. We packed the essentials and headed out toward the rustic cottage in the woods. This place is very familiar to us, as we do this twice a year. The beds are bunk style, but Chris and I remove the top mattress to make one larger bed on the bottom. We brought our own goose down comforters to place over the mattresses for comfort. We arrived Friday morning at 6 AM and began our day with a peaceful meditation, followed by a walk in nature. After swimming in the lake, we dressed for dinner. We went to a nearby bar and grille and had salads and lots of spring water. The sunny afternoon was quickly changing into a dark and cloud covered evening. The local weather station had predicted thunder and hale storms, potentially heavy flooding and dangerous lightning for the area. We kind of liked the idea of spending the night doing nothing more than lying in bed in this quaint little cottage. Let the heavens open up, we didn’t care – we were in need of relaxation! Before going into the cottage for the night, Chris and I stopped at the outhouse. Yes, this cottage has no running water, the only facilities are a nearby outhouse. By 9 PM it was raining lightly and Chris and I were tucked into bed. After an hour of vigorous sex, we both fell sound asleep entangled in each others arms. The only sounds outside should have been nature sounds, like the wind, but I awoke to a loud speaker warning everyone in the area to remain inside till further notice. I also heard the wind whipping through the trees, branches hitting into the sides of the cottage, and thunder so loud it could wake the dead. Before long, hale the size of golf balls were hitting the roof of the cottage. A quick look at my wristwatch told me it was 11:09 PM. Again, the voice on the loud speaker in town was warning all residents to remain indoors – under no circumstances were we to venture out for we were in the midst of a dangerous summer storm. Chris was sleeping soundly – he could sleep through anything. I was not afraid. The cottage was always relaxing and summer storms were common around here. I looked out the window and could see nothing but branches and debris around the cottage. As I climbed back in bed, Chris sat up. It was exciting as I explained the situation to him and told him there was no one in the world I’d rather be trapped inside with. We both laughed and made love again. I was drifting off to sleep, but noticed that Chris seemed a bit uncomfortable. He kept sitting up, then lying down, and his legs were not still. I asked him if he was alright, and he said that he was. I must have fallen asleep, because the next time I looked at my wristwatch it was 1:59 AM. Chris was sitting up in bed, half doubled over, legs crossed. The loudspeaker was still telling people to remain indoors. Chris still doesn’t know how turned on I get when he needs to use the bathroom and can’t. I looked at him and asked if he had to go badly. He said that he did, but he’d have to wait until it was safe to go outside. As much as it turns me on, I hate to see Chris uncomfortable. I remembered an empty Coke can that was on the nightstand. I suggested he relieve some of the pressure by letting some go into the Coke can. At first he said no, but a few minutes later he reached for the can. He said he had to go desperately, took the can and placed it under his piss slit. At first, pee splashed over his hand, but then he got his aim. It wasn’t long until the can was full and he had to pinch it off. Chris moaned softly and said that it was really hard to stop midstream. I noticed he had two fingers tightly clenched around his dick head. He got out of bed, and bent over almost in half, hopping from foot to foot, all the while holding on to his dick for dear life. He asked if there were anymore soda cans around, but there were not. He frantically looked around for a place to relieve the pressure, but frankly, there was no place in which to do so. I suggested he open the door and piss into the wind. Usually he wouldn’t do this, but would hold it and suffer silently, but tonight he was willing to do anything. He tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge much against the strong winds. Branches too, were blocking the door’s opening. It’s no use, he said, as he climbed back into bed unable to stay still for more than a minute. He looked so tired, and I know he needed rest. I suggested that he try to sleep. After all, we all wake up usually having to pee pretty bad, which means our bladders normally hold our pee all night. Chris reminded me that he was one of those people who wake up twice nightly to pee. Poor thing, really had to go badly now! He said he didn’t think his bladder was able to contain this much piss. I rubbed his back and told him to relax….. well…. relax as best he could under the circumstances. His lower stomach was swollen. It looked like he had an orange right under his navel. I could feel his whole body tense with effort to hold it in. I grabbed the head of his dick in my hand and told him that I’d hold it for him and that I wouldn’t let go. Maybe this would alleviate some of the pressure, or enough pressure so that he could get some sleep. He crossed his legs around my hand and doubled into a fetal position. After a while, he fell asleep. I couldn’t believe the rate at which his abdomen was swelling. I tried to remain perfectly still, so as not to wake him up. My own bladder was filling at this point, but it wasn’t bad at all. I was so horny though. I took my free hand and got myself off. It didn’t take long, as watching Chris as desperate as he was got me three quarters of the way there! Finally, at 4:25 AM the loudspeaker announced that it was safe to go outside and survey the damage. I still had hold of Chris’ dick, but I wanted to open the door and see if there was a clear path to the outhouse. I let go of Chris, walked to the door, and after a few pushes, I got the branches out of the way and opened the door. I walked back to bed, happy to see that Chris and the bed were still dry, but Chris’ hand was now holding his dick. I woke him up and told him that it was safe to make a run to the outhouse. He was in such pain that he couldn’t really move. I coaxed him out of the bed. As soon as he put his feet on the floor he doubled over. A stream of pee came out of him as he gasped and grabbed himself again. Sweat was now pouring down his face, and he was shivering. It was difficult, but he got his underwear and shorts on as we headed to the outhouse. I had to go badly at this point too, but Chris needed to go first – I had no doubt about that. As we approached the co–ed outhouse, there was a line waiting to get in. It seemed that the folks in the other 5 cottages had to go too. There was a lot of hopping from foot to foot, but Chris was by far the worst, doubled over and sweating with the effort to contain his pee. There were 8 people ahead of Chris, making me ninth in holding it in all night. The others also said they were holding it for quite a while and no one was about to give up their spot on line. It was too late for Chris to leave the line and find a bush, because by now, everyone was having a conversation and they’d know what he was doing. Chris is too shy for that, so he just stood there doubled over. He wasn’t even hopping. He told me that if he moved at all, he’d lose it right there. He was doubled over, squatting, with his ass about 2 inches off the ground. I was now crossing my legs and hopping foot to foot. My bladder was so full, I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to hold it either. Three people had used the outhouse and left. The fourth person, a man, was in there for about 10 minutes while the rest of us were yelling for him to hurry up. Chris didn’t say a word, for even to talk would have been too much of a strain for him now. I asked the people ahead of us if anyone thought they could hold on an extra minute, and if they could please let Chris go first. I was truly afraid he was going to damage himself holding it for so long. No one was going to let anyone ahead of them, that was apparent. Chris dropped to his knees, banging his fists into the ground, trying hard not to grab hold of his dick. The guy in front of him had his hands wedged into his own crotch, but Chris was too shy to do this in public. I got down next to Chris to try to encourage him to hold on. I heard a little hissing sound and realized that he had done some while he was on his knees. He quickly brought himself under control and whispered to me: “I’m so embarrassed”. I told him that no one but me had seen what happened. As he was down on his knees, more and more was trickling out, although he was trying like hell to hold on. His turn in the outhouse finally came, and he actually crawled in. I told him to hurry, because by now I was dying to go and could not stand still. I could actually hear him peeing from outside the outhouse door. It seemed he was on his knees waiting his turn. Not to mention a full 16 ounces that he let go into the Coke can much earlier! Chris finally emerged from the outhouse, and I almost knocked him over in my haste to get in. It felt good to pee! When I was done, we walked in the sunshine. It was a beautiful day after a terrible storm. Chris’ pants dried in minutes, as the sun warmed us. The following two nights were uneventful with regard to peeing. I don’t know if that’s good or bad? Someday I’ll tell Chris about my fetish with desperation, but for now, I’ll remain silent.
MoonSpirit