Just Trying to be Helpful

A few years ago when I was living in London I traveled on the underground regularly (that’s usually called ‘the Tube’ in London, or the Subway or Metro for people outside the UK), and would often see girls who were obviously desperate for a pee.
Because there are no toilets on the Underground trains, and none on most of the stations, on many occasions I was lucky enough to witness girls getting so desperate that it resulted in a ‘wetting’, or a ‘public peeing’ where the girl would just finally give up and squat down for a pee. However, this is the only ‘Business Suit’ wetting that I can remember.
On this particular day I was traveling during the middle of the day and the trains were not very crowded, so there were plenty of empty seats, and I was sitting on the last seat at the end of the carriage, next to the glass screen that separates the seats from the sliding doors.
After a while my attention was drawn to the girl sitting opposite me who seemed to be crossing and uncrossing her legs rather a lot, and continually shifting her position on the seat. This girl was in her late twenties or early thirties, with long blonde hair and dressed in a very stylish dark blue business suit, with a nicely tailored jacket over a white blouse and a plain skirt and a pair of dark tights, and she also had a leather briefcase on her lap.
Anyway, I had been quietly watching her for a few minutes when the inevitable happened – (no, not that) – the train stopped in a tunnel between stations, as they often do, and as usual nobody had any idea why it had stopped, you just have to put up with it and wait for the train to move off again. Sometimes the train can be stopped for a couple of minutes; sometimes it can be twenty minutes or more.
That day it was obviously going to be more like the twenty minutes, as nothing happened for a long time, nothing about the train moving that is, but the girl opposite me just couldn’t stop moving around on her seat and crossing and uncrossing her legs. As I said, there were plenty of empty seats, but I was actually the only one sitting on my side of the carriage, all the other people on this particular carriage were sitting on the same side as the girl, so since there was nobody actually sitting right next to her, probably nobody on her side noticed what she was doing.
After a while, I noticed that she was gripping the sides of her briefcase very tightly, and I looked up at her face, and could see that she was biting her lip and had a very pained expression on her face. She noticed me looking, so I just raised my hands as if to say “what can we do?”, and she just nodded and raised her eyebrows.
A few minutes later she was still squirming around in her seat, but then she quietly stood up, as if to stretch her legs, and tried very calmly to move around to the other side of the glass screen on her side of the carriage without anybody noticing, nobody except me that was.
So there she was, standing in the doorway at the end of the carriage, but still crossing and uncrossing her legs, and doing a little pee–pee dance, although she was trying not to make it too obvious. After a few more minutes we made eye contact again, and she just raised her eyebrows like before, but was obviously now very desperate indeed and was still biting her lip. A few seconds later she looked down slowly, and I followed her eyes down to see that she had quietly slipped off her shoes and pushed them away from her a bit, and then it happened; at first there was just a little trickle down one of her legs, but after a couple of seconds rivers of pee were running down the insides of both her legs and onto the floor.
Luckily for her, the floor on this train was curved down slightly from the centre, so as she peed in her knickers, the pee just ran down her legs onto the floor, and most of it then flowed straight away from her feet and disappeared down the gap between the floor and the sliding door. She seemed to be peeing for ages, and her face had turned bright red, even though I was the only one who could see what had happened, or maybe it was because I had seen. Anyway, I decided to try and comfort her if I could, so I stood up as well and walked over to her.
I very quietly said that I was so sorry about what had happened, but in the circumstances she didn’t really have any alternative, and she didn’t seem to mind my intrusion and just nodded and whispered quietly that she had been absolutely desperate, and just couldn’t hold it any more.
She then seemed to relax a bit and told me that she now had a really big problem because she was on her way to a very important meeting with a client, and didn’t know what to do, since she knew there were no toilets at the station where she had to get off the train, and she obviously couldn’t turn up at the client’s office with her knickers and tights soaking wet.
We couldn’t see any evidence of her wetting on the front of her skirt, and she then asked me to check the back of her skirt to see if anything showed, so she turned round briefly so that I could see, and it was OK, so at least she had managed to keep her skirt dry, and her shoes were also dry because she had had the presence of mind to take them off first.
Just then the train started to move off at last, so I had an idea, and apologized to her if she thought I was being too rude, but I suggested that we should both get off the train at her station and wait for the platform to clear a bit.
I then suggested that if she stood beside one of those chocolate vending machines towards the end of the platform, then I would hold her briefcase and stand in front of her to shield her a bit so that she could reach up under her skirt and pull down her wet knickers and tights and take them off.
I also told her that I had a clean folded handkerchief in my jacket pocket, and that if she wanted to, she was welcome to have that to dry herself off as much as she could, and far from being upset at my suggestion, she actually thought it was a brilliant idea.
When the train got to her station, we both got off as planned, and luckily most people had got on the train that we had got off, so there were only a few people waiting, and we wandered slowly down the platform to one of the vending machines and she did exactly as I had suggested, kicking her wet knickers and tights into the corner between the machine and the wall before drying herself off with my handkerchief, tossing that in the corner as well, and putting her shoes back on.
She then thanked me very much for being so helpful and understanding, I said that was OK, I was only too glad to help, then handed her briefcase back to her. We said our goodbyes and off she went to her meeting, while I waited on the platform for the next train to where I was going. I have often wondered what her client would have thought if he had known that she had turned up in his office that day with no knickers on because she had wet herself on the way to the meeting.
I also wondered what the girl would have thought if she had known how much I had enjoyed the fact that she had wet her knickers uncontrollably right in front of me, and I have also often wondered if that little incident had done anything for her; you never know, it may have given her a thrill too, and perhaps she’s now a determined knicker–wetting fan as well! Or maybe she was already a fan anyway, who knows?
PeeSpy (email welcome)