Desperate Diving

Some people discover early on their proclivities towards watersports, but I came to mine when I was in college. I was on vacation in a resort town somewhere in the Pacific. I had just received my diving certification and was eager to get to it. Before I arrived I had booked several dives with a local company, and on the day of my ‘discovery’ we were to make two dives, both along the reef wall. Of course I wouldn’t be alone; five others had been booked in my group. By chance I knew three of them – Amy, Joan, and Mark – they were staying at my resort and we had talked and gotten to know each other two nights earlier in the lounge.
I sat alone on the deck of the dive boat, enjoying the 45–minute trip to the first dive site. The weather was splendid, with only a few clouds in the sky. I enjoyed the sun’s warm rays as the boat skipped along the water. The first dive went wonderfully for me, and despite a few problems I had the experience ran smoothly. We ate lunch and off gassed for a good hour. The weather was still holding, but you could tell that there was a storm rolling in. As I sat there eating my sandwich my thoughts wandered back to a curious phenomenon I had encountered underwater. It seems that whenever I dive my bladder begins to rapidly fill. I’m kind of a reserved person, and so I cannot seem to empty it in the water for fear that others are watching me let go. I had held my pee the entire dive, and my bladder was bursting. I would definitely need to pee soon. My sphincter muscle was tingling and I could feel the pee rushing down my hole all the way to the tip of my penis. I finished lunch and crawled into the water. After a minute or so of concentration I felt the warmth of my piss all around. It was the most amazing feeling, desperately needing to let go and then feeling the hot sensation moving around me. More exciting was the fact that relieving such a need felt sexually exciting. I had never felt that way before, but neither had I needed to pee so badly either. I had managed to give myself quite an erection when my guide suggested we take off for the next site soon. The weather was getting a little worse, and we needed to hurry if we were going to make the dive before the storm. “Just a minute,” I called. After a short while my erection subsided and I climbed on board. We were on the way to the next site, when I realized that after our next dive I would need to piss just as bad as last time. I asked the guide if his boat had bathrooms, to which he sharply replied, “NO.” A wave of anxiety rolled up my stomach and into my head. What was I going to do? I cannot make myself go underwater, and the boat ride will probably be way too long to hold it. Horror took over as I realized there was a good chance I might piss my suit right on deck! But there was no time to think about such things because we had arrived at the next dive site. As we leapt into the water I could feel my poor bladder twinge. As the dive progressed I could feel myself start to fill again. I had fun diving, but the horror of wetting my pants was always in the back of my mind. Sure enough, by the time I reached the surface my bladder was almost full. I tried desperately to pee while waiting in line to climb on the boat. It was impossible because while we were diving the wind had picked up and there were 2–foot swells. I just couldn’t pee while being jostled around by the currents. Now my only hope was to hold it for 45 minutes till we returned to port.
The first five minutes of the ride were the worst because we were outside the reef with the sometimes 3–foot swells. After five minutes of hopping over waves I was ready to call it quits. Each skip of the boat jiggled my bladder and slightly loosened my sphincter muscles – each time the bow hit the water a little pee would rush to the end of my penis, and a few drops would leak out – and each time the bow came up I wanted to grasp my cock to stop the dribbling. However, Amy and Joan were sitting near me and I would have been humiliated if they caught me. I was nearly to the point of crying out when we must have passed over the channel into the reef. The waves got much smaller, and the incessant bouncing stopped. The next forty minutes would be relatively easy – or so I thought.
After passing into calmer waters our captain and guide invited his guests to use his deck shower. He had rigged a hose to the outside of the cabin, which showered warm (not hot) water. The other five people took turns using it first. I stayed at the back of the line because I had different intentions. Finally, I could let my pee go without being detected. The warm water was sure to stimulate me enough to let loose, and to hide what I was doing. As each person finished up I came closer and closer to final relief. The anticipation of letting go had already been too much to bear. Twice while in line I started to dribble pee. The sensation of my own warm liquid running down my now trembling legs was amazing. Finally the last person finished! I nearly leapt into the open shower space. As I turned on the water, though, I couldn’t make myself go. The warmth of the salty water rushing over my back, stomach, cock, wasn’t enough to overcome the fact that Amy had taken a seat behind the shower. Perhaps she enjoyed my form, perhaps she knew the predicament I was in, or perhaps she was just spacing out. Regardless, I thought she was watching me and I couldn’t let go. Finally I decided I would have to let some pressure go if I were going to make it. My bladder was in pain, and I was certain that I would lose actual control before we docked. I gathered what concentration I had and forced a small amount to come out. My sphincter quickly stopped the flow, but after continued effort I was able to force enough pee out that I might stand a chance of holding it till we reached the dock. Not wanting to seem suspicious, I cut my shower short and took a seat near Amy. I was interested in knowing why she had apparently stared at me.
“Hey there, remember me?” This was the first time we had spoken since two nights ago. She recalled our previous conversation in the lounge, and talking to her helped with the pressure still exerting itself on my bladder. Maybe I could forget, but if only for a while. Joan shortly moved to the bow, leaving Amy and I alone at the stern. We continued our banter another minute, and then she asked, “So, how long have you enjoyed ‘wet play’?”
“Oh, I just got my certificate. These were my first two real dives.”
She smiled, laughed, and then told me how she had observed me the whole trip. How she had recognized the desperation at lunch, and now on our way back. I was honestly mortified. After stumbling over my own tongue I asked how she had known. She filled me in on her fascination with desperation and wet sex, and how she herself liked to have accidents; how she learned from an early age to spot the signs of desperation, and enjoy them. I was quickly reminded of my swollen bladder through our conversation. It hurt so badly, but at the same time I couldn’t help feeling curiously sexual during Amy’s confession.
“So do you have to go now,” I asked, trying not to blush.
“Desperately, diving seems to do it to me.”
We shared a cautious laugh, and got caught up in each other’s smiles. At that point I noticed her legs crossed, one foot bouncing nervously. We talked a little more about our meeting in the lounge, things we had in common, the coincidence of our meeting today, et cetera. After awhile I almost forgot about my own desperation. Amy and I were getting along famously, and we eventually agreed to dinner that night. I could tell she was slowly driving the conversation towards more sensual things, but she was trying to play coy for my sake. A few more minutes and she finally asked if I had I ever played around with the notion of wet sex before. She knew where this conversation would head, and not wanting to disappoint a beautiful lady I asked whether she would like to educate me. She just smiled and winked. I could tell she was hurting for a pee because she bit her lip and re–crossed her legs. I imagined what might transpire tonight after dinner and a thousand geese took to flight in my chest. Her sudden fidgeting wrested me from my thoughts.
“Uh–oh,” escaped her lips and she grabbed her crotch. She whispered, “I have to go soon, and I’m not sure I can make the hotel.”
I was beginning to get an erection, the cause of which being both alien and familiar. However, the pain in my groin stifled a full hardon. It felt like I had pulled a muscle down below and my pee was constantly rushing to the end my penis. I, too, was worried about making the hotel – an extra 15 minutes by cab.
Another five minutes passed with us trying to make small talk to take our minds off our burdens. Then suddenly the dock appeared around the bend. The anxiety and anticipation were almost too much for my bladder to bear. Our guide tied up the boat, and Amy and I rushed off. I frantically combed the area for any hidden place to take a leak, and smack next to the dock was a restroom! SAVED! Amy and I hobbled over. We slammed the door behind us and almost fought each other for the one toilet seat.
“Wait, let’s be civil. How will we decide who goes first?”
“Make it quick Amy, I have to go now!”
We stood there trying frantically to think, both of us dribbling. As we boggled, my attention began to turn from our predicament to Amy’s body. Her auburn hair flowed over her larger breasts and her shapely hourglass form. I stared at her figure, scantly clad in a two–piece bikini. The material was so thin that you could almost see the outline of her swollen labia. As I stared I noticed her groin tense up, and then a few droplets as they followed the graceful lines of her perfect legs straight to the ground.
“Oh God! I’m leaking!” she exclaimed. “I can’t hold it much longer.”
Seeing that golden trickle awoke something inside my psyche – something immensely turned on by the sight of a girl desperate for a pee – leaking for a pee – not even pulling their suit down for a pee. “I know how we can decide this, Amy. Let’s have a hold–off. Spread your legs and I’ll spread mine. No holding yourself and whoever lasts the longest gets the toilet.”
A devilish grin spread across her face, “You’re on!” and she spread her legs wide.
We stared at each other’s crotches for over a full minute, though it seemed like eternity. My cock was half–hard and pulsing. My bladder was very weak by now, and pee kept trickling out the tip of my penis. Every time I leaked, the piss would dribble down my shaft and then over my balls. This near–constant leaking proved too much to bear because without warning I began to gush everywhere. It started out like any other dribble, only this time I couldn’t squeeze the flow back. I had lost total control, and it felt absolutely carnal and strangely sexual to be peeing in front of such a beautiful young lady. Apparently, the spattering of my gusher on the floor was too much for Amy to take. Halfway through my piss, before she could even move to the toilet seat, a look of absolute ecstasy washed over her. I suspected her experience was much like mine. I watched as at first just a little trickle escaped through her suit. Then nothing– for a full three seconds I thought she had held on, but then her entire bladder let loose a monstrous flow. To this day I haven’t ever witnessed a pee that strong. She went for a full 45 seconds. At that point we lost complete control over the rest of our bodies. We embraced in a long kiss, and then like clockwork I pulled aside her suit, flopped out my engorged cock, eased her up onto the sink, and had the most passionate sex of my life to date. We made love like two crazed animals, and in the afterglow promised each other to do it again that night.
By: P. Maximus