Joan's Traffic Emergency

I continue my theme of female desperation with a middle aged, well to do, well–dressed woman caught short in at least a semi public situation. I continually tire of stories about younger women that are provocatively dressed.
What a nightmare. Joan was sitting in her car and the traffic was backed up for miles; there seemed to be no way off the rural road she was stuck on, a combination of rain and sleet was pouring down, but worst off all… she had to go to the bathroom! Badly!!!
She had been to a dinner party with other people from her office where she had imbibed lots of wine and coffee. While she dutifully used the ladies’ room before she left, most of the liquid she had consumed hadn’t reached her bladder by then. She lived in the country about one half hour from the restaurant but traffic had come to a complete stop, and she had barely moved 2 miles in the past hour.
She felt her bladder fill on the way but not enough for her to stop. She was a very dignified, well brought up, middle–aged Catholic woman who had been given a strict upbringing. She lived a very prim and proper lifestyle. She was well dressed in tan slacks, white shirt and blue blazer, with shoulder length blonde hair, blue eyes and glasses, and would never dream of going to a gas station or a store just to use their filthy bathroom.
This time things were different. 20 minutes after the traffic stopped, her bladder surged with an urgency she had never felt before. Now here she was, legs crossed and squirming– hands tightly gripping the steering wheel, teeth clenched, and a look of total panic in her eyes. Never before had she had to go to the bathroom so badly. Her bladder was bursting; it was expanding to the outer reaches of her lower abdomen and pressing hard against her tightly belted slacks. It was agony. Worse than that, the pee was pressing so hard on her tightly clenched muscle that she was using all of her strength to hold it in. It was raining and sleeting so she could not get out of the car to pee even if she wanted to.
The need to pee was getting worse by the minute, pressing harder and harder. She would cross and uncross her legs to try and get the most pressure but she felt she was losing the battle and began to fear she may actually wet her pants. A feeling she had not had in her entire adult life! The pain, plus the fear of God for wetting herself made her start to cry. Tears were now streaming down her face. Every few minutes the traffic would move a bit and she would have to compose herself to handle the car. Soon the need reached an unbearable level, even with her legs pressed so tightly she felt she would wet her pants. She had been contemplating holding her crotch for a while but she could not bring herself to do it. If her hands were not on the wheel they were pressing her agonizing bladder. For now, she placed her hands between her clenched thighs and held on that way. It offered some comfort but did little to help her hold it in. She pressed tighter and squirmed twisted her legs in knots. She still felt on the verge of peeing in her pants, and she felt she had no choice. Even though it was disgusting and most un–ladylike to her, she took one hand and held her crotch for dear life. Her increased ability hold it was overridden by the total state of the shame she was in.
Another half of an hour had passed and she was a sick woman. Her bladder had swollen to a point that felt like it was being damaged. Her muscles were burning and aching from being clenched so tight. She was holding her crotch so tightly she feared ripping it apart. She could even feel her pee pressing against the muscles. Her face was contorted so much it felt like it would fall off. She was crying so hard she felt like that alone would make her lose control.
Then her need to pee got even worse. She put the car in park, let go of the wheel, placed both hands on her crotch and twisted her legs around them. She cried so hard she could not see the road because her tears had fogged up her glasses. Her teeth and lips where clenched together and she was taking short, hissing breaths through them. She then started making high–pitched moans through them. She even felt like she might throw up.
She was in such despair. Her need reminded her of the last time she wet herself as a child– how much her mother had gotten angry with her, how she used to scold her kids when they wet their pants. Then, her need reached a level she could no longer bear. No matter how tightly she crossed her legs, clenched her muscles or held her crotch, she just could not hold it in any longer. She let out a yell of “aaahh…” as the last painful wave of desperation overtook her. She then, at that moment, for the first time in her adult life, lost control of her urine. As she simultaneously let out a yell of “Oh God, NOOO,” her pee muscle let go. For a split second she felt an overwhelming sense of relief. That feeling immediately changed to horror and disgust as torrent of pee left her vagina. It shot out through her underwear and pants and accumulated on her seat where a large puddle formed and spilled onto the floor. What did not make it through her pants thoroughly soaked her crotch and pubic hair. Then it either went under her, towards her behind, or thoroughly soaked both her pants and legs before running into and onto to her shoes.
She made a few attempts to regain control but it was no use. She sat there sobbing as she continued peeing. It just kept pouring and pouring out of her leaving such large puddle that her feet were almost floating. When she was finally done, she sat there crying in shame. She could not believe that an adult woman such as herself her had wet her pants. Her clothes, car interior and dignity were ruined, but not nearly as much as when she arrived home and was forced to admit to her husband what had happened. When she had to take her clothes off in the laundry room, she just wanted to die. Urine was still pouring off of her onto the floor. She could see through her pants and underwear, and the smell made her nauseous. None of this, though, was worse than the ache in her belly, which would last through the night and only be relieved after her morning pee.
PeeGuy