Lisa

When I was 16, I had to get on a minibus to get to and from school, as I lived way out in the countryside in Cornwall. One of the girls in my year, Lisa also used the bus as she lived about a mile further on from me. One afternoon, when the last lesson was Physics, I had been watching Lisa from my place at the table behind hers; she was a very attactive girl with long auburn hair and looked very sexy in her uniform of white blouse and short grey skirt. What caught my attention first was that, to get a better view of a demonstation of something – I can’t remember what – Lisa was kneeling on her chair and leaning forwards with her elbows on the table. This gave me a nice view of her purple knickers, which was interesting enough in itself, but I soon realized that she was fidgeting about and unable to keep still for long. When she sat down afterwards she was knocking her knees together and occasionally rocking back and forth in her seat. I watched this for the next half hour, until the end of class, and was delighted when we all had to help tidy up after the bell went, because as our bus left the school only five minutes after the last lesson, this meant that Lisa had no time to go to the toilets.
The bus was a 12 seater and there were usually 14 of us for the first part of the journey, meaning that the last on had to share a seat. This evening, like on some other occasions, Lisa had to sit on my knee. She sat sideways, with her bottom in the dip between my thighs and one hand on my shoulder to support herself. Glancing down, I could just see the purple triangle at her crotch. She was obviously trying her best to stay still but I could feel her buttocks and the muscles in her legs tighten now and again as she struggled to control her bladder. I, of course, was in heaven and had a full erection, which I hoped Lisa couldn’t feel. The journey usually took about 45 minutes and I didn’t think she would be able to hold on all that time without showing more signs of desperation. I was right, as when the bus rode over a particularly big bump in the road, Lisa gave a little gasp and went quite rigid for a few seconds, straightening her back and biting her lower lip. I almost expected to feel some wetness on my legs but a quick look at her crotch showed nothing. After that, she looked very flustered and began chattering away in a nervous sort of way while she shifted about on my knee. I knew she was having difficulty holding on when she placed her hands, palm to palm, between her legs and clamped her thighs around them. Eventually, the only two other boys on the bus got off, freeing the corner seat next to me, and Lisa sat there and began squirming about almost immediately. I began to feel sorry for her as I had had the same experience about 2 years earlier, under exactly the same circumstances, and I asked, quietly if she was OK.
‘No’ she whispered, ‘I’m dying to go to the loo!’ This was music to my ears of course but I said ‘try and think about something else.
She said ‘I can’t, it hurts!’ and pressed her fingers to her knickers, not seeming to care if I saw or not. She really looked desperate now and was almost tying her legs in a knot. Five minutes passed and I heard her squeak ‘Oh no’.I looked and she pulled back the hem of her skirt so as to check beneath it and I saw that there was now a small dark patch on her panties. With this, and the bumpy country lane, I began to feel myself approaching the point of coming in my pants and I tried not to move at all – if I did, I was sure that I would begin to come. ‘What am I going to do?’ said Lisa, ‘I’m going to wet myself! I’ll have to get off the bus!’ I asked the driver to stop, we weren’t all that far from my house anyway and I wasn’t going to miss any of what might happen, so I said that Lisa and I were going to collect something from the nearby farm for her mother anf would walk home. We got out and the bus drove off. Lisa looked frantically around for somewhere to have a pee but there was nothing to give any privacy.
I said, ‘come on, hurry up and you can go at my house, there’s no one home yet’ and we walked on, Lisa stopping every now and then to bend double, rubbing one leg against the other. When we got to my front door I made a show of not finding the key and Lisa was going around in circles, taking short steps and pleading with me to hurry. It was too late by the time I produced the key because she was by then leaving a wet trail behind her and I could see a dark patch spread on the front of her skirt where she was pressing it to her crotch. Pee gushed down her legs as she finally gave up trying to hold on. She was crying and I helped her into the house and took her to the bathroom so she could clean up. I then peeped through the gap around the not quite closed door and when she took her skirt off and I saw her soaking purple knickers, I finally came in my pants. When she had washed things through I lent her some jeans and a pair of my underpants to go home in. It was the start of quite a love affair that lasted until we left school but I never saw Lisa as desperate as that ever again.
Nick