My Love for a Beautiful Bladder-Queen

I had the most exciting experience with a big bladdered woman some years ago. I found a new love with a fascinating woman for a longer time.
This two–part story really happened some years ago and I have NOT elaborated or changed any of the described facts!
I won’t tell you her name, but she was a slim and sporty woman of 32 years at the time and had very long, dark, brown hair. She was very beautiful, and had a fascinating smile– and she had the best–trained, incredibly massive, persistent bladder that I have ever found. She was very tough and had really strong nerves– a fascinating woman also possessing many other good qualities but that’s not the theme of this water sports community.
For the fans of stats: 1,75 cm / approx. 50 kg
(1) Our first meeting – and her extraordinary bladder
I had drunk some beer and gone into another pub at about midnight. A good looking woman of 32 years (as she told me later) stood at the bar and was having a discussion with some of the men in there. She was a little drunk but still very lovely. The discussion became a little aggressive but nobody wanted it to stop.
I went over beside the woman and started another discussion – ending the struggle. A few minutes later I realized two very important things– first, that she liked me and I had a good chance to have a nice time or more, and secondly, that she had waited much too long to visit the toilet. She did not want to show that she had a problem but also she wanted to stay beside me. We were standing at the bar and she secretly pressed her legs together, shifted her hips, and changed her position quite often, going from one foot to the other every few minutes. Her posture (to me) looked a little bit cramped. She was having a hard struggle with her bladder but it was difficult to see how much she had to fight. But all her previous aggressiveness of the last several minutes had gone away. Remember: we were standing at the bar, not sitting.
We had the good feelings that accompany the beginning of a new love. About an hour later she told me that she had to go very badly. I asked her when she had gone to the bathroom last– and it turned out that she had not gone at all the whole evening and long into the night. She had drunk a lot of beer in the evening and I could hardly believe her statement. When I got to know her better, some weeks later, I realized that she had told the truth that evening at the bar.
When she started to go to the toilet, I tried to lay my arms around her and feel the hardness and prominence of her lower abdomen. But she angrily shouted to stop touching her ‘overfilled bladder.’ Then she rushed off towards the toilet area.
When she came back about 8 minutes later, I could not resist asking her if she felt better now after relieving herself. To my surprise she told me, that she was not able to really empty her bladder, because everything was so cramped in there. That was the first time in my life that a woman told me about such a situation. So I suggested that she should try it again later. But she wanted to stay beside me. Her bladder was just a nervous thing, but not a real problem, as she told me.
Another hour later we left the pub and I got some money from an EC–automat at a bank 50 m from that place. It was a cold winter and we decided that we wanted to find a new pub very soon. I made some proposals and then she told me that she needed a cab because her bladder was nearly out of control now and she could not walk any further.
Fortunately about 10 minutes later we had a cab and were on our way to the next pub, which was located about 10 minutes away by car. We stopped at the main street and then walked the last 50 m. or so to the pub, but it was closed…
I felt some sympathy for my new love. (I was sure that it would become more than an affair or a one–night–stand!) I told her to go to a department store very nearby, which had some bushes around the car park, but she refused and told me that she would manage to walk to the next suggested pub about 45 minutes away. I was surprised by her courage as well as her bladder strength. Also, I liked the idea of walking three quarters of an hour beside a beautiful woman I loved. She would show me how strong a bladder could be after many, many beers and an incomplete emptying, which had loosed her sphincter after all the hours of waiting before. I knew she had hardly (cramped and very quietly) managed the way to the second pub in the cab. And now she wanted to walk the long way in the really cold night…!
She walked beside me the whole way without any word about her horrible need. She tried to talk about other themes, but was very distracted. She kept walking at a normal pace and looked completely normal. I was fascinated with this additional quality she possessed. I had only ever had dreams about a really strong–bladdered and good–looking woman. Now it seemed that I had actually found her!
The time was bad for finding a new pub. The third pub that we tried was now also closed. I saw the panic in her eyes and she saw my admiration and fascination. She asked me to go to my flat now and did not do anything more for the comfort of her bladder. I could not believe it!
We walked about half an hour and passed her home. She showed me the house as we passed and I asked her if she could stand it for another quarter of an hour to reach my home – or if she wanted us to go in – so near we were to a functioning and clean toilet. She cramped a little bit, but her decision was fixed: she would reach my flat without stopping for any pee before.
Remember: She had not peed for about 7 hours while drinking first. One hour later she got to the loo and opened her floodgates a little bit but could not empty completely because of her cramped sphincter. Another hour later we left for the odyssey. She was unable to walk after the cab drive, which lasted a total of 20 minutes between the waiting and the actual drive. Then she seemed to be a little bit refreshed by sitting in the cab. Another 45 minutes for the way to the next pub, then 30 minutes to her home and her proud idea to resist her need for 15 more minutes on the way to my home – and it was really cold outside…
So if I count all the hours, there were eight hours before her piss and two hours and fifty minutes later. She had drunk about 10 pints of beer as I knew from our conversation.
At my home we sat on my couch and some time later she sat on my lap and I could feel her fidgeting very, very little. It was not the kind of fidgeting you normally have, when your muscles get weak, but it was a fidgeting to prevent peeing. We sat there for a little more than six hours, kissing and enjoying our new love. She was fidgeting the whole time in that way and did not ask for the toilet. It made me completely horny, but I did not ask her to have sex, because I had misgivings that she would visit the loo before.
After the six hours she went to the toilet, but not in a great deal of pain or in any kind of hurry. I think she would have been able to wait much longer sitting there with me.
(2) The cinema visit – the first time she nearly lost control
Another time, we went to the cinema at 8 pm. She had drunk very much tea, coffee, and later on some beer. When we left for cinema, we had very little time and she had no chance to visit the toilet before the bus arrived. On the bus she told me that it could become a real problem by the time we arrived. It was not often that she had real problems with her bladder. But we were late to our seats and so she also skipped the loo at the cinema… After about 15 minutes of the movie she stood up, bent over, and afterward went out. Ten minutes later she came back, having been unable to find her way to the toilets or any theater personnel that she could ask for direction. So, she had just smoked a cigarette and then returned. She did not leave again, just sat beside me, very quiet and without moving. It was an overly long movie of more than 2.5 hours. At the end she was up very quickly, but other people blocked our way. Also, it was impossible to sit down again. She now had very serious and obviously visible problems! I did not ask her when she had last visited the loo.
Some days she did not go all day after her morning piss– that was probably the case today. When we came out, there was a long, long queue at the one (!) and only loo door. I counted about 25 women and there was no movement that we could see. My love decided not to wait, but to go home. I suggested going to a nearby pub, but she wanted to use her own loo now. (Probably because the bowl would deflect her hard stream, which is not a good thing while on a dirty public loo)
We got to the bus quickly and she sat down. On the way home she told me twice that she could not manage this time, but she did! I don’t know how. This was the only time she had ever told me that she wouldn’t manage to hold a little longer. It must have been really hard, even for her well–trained, painful bladder and her brave and persistent attitude.
Unfortunately I did not ask her how long she had waited before and how much she had drank. I was alarmed by her unfamiliar and nearly hopeless struggle, and did not want to see her losing control in public. I loved her and was very proud of her, so I wanted to believe in her as a winner in a hopeless situation – not as a shamed loser!
Peter P. ( email welcome )