The Lawyer

For the last few years, I’ve been sharing office space with another lawyer. It’s a nice arrangement, all the office comforts with somebody else paying for half. Linda has her practice, and I have mine. We usually have nothing to do with each other’s practice, or each other’s personal lives; although I must say she is an attractive woman… about my age…
Not so long ago, the distance between us changed. I was walking down the corridor at the county court house, on my way to the court’s business office, when I saw Linda dash out of a courtroom. She had her briefcase in one hand, and her other, much to my astonishment, holding her crotch through her skirt with the other. She was about 10 feet from me when she noticed me, and locked on my eyes. Linda dropped her briefcase at my feet, and said “hold this.” She ran into the ladies room.
I picked up her briefcase, and dutifully (and surprised) waited at the door of the ladies room for her to finish. Guess she must have had to pee pretty badly… little did I know. I then heard her curse several times, and heard the door to the stall bang. I listened to the quick steps of her high heels across the tile floor. She then opened the door.
“Am I glad you’re still here,” she said.
“Ok,” I responded, “what’s the matter?”
“I was in Judge Smithson’s courtroom, and I had to pee so badly, I thought I was going to die. Look, I couldn’t hold it, and I peed a little in my pants. Walk behind me back to the office so that the wet spot on my skirt doesn’t show.” she explained. “We have to hurry, I still have to pee.”
“I though you just peed in the bathroom,” I answered confused.
“Never mind that now, just walk behind me, and hurry.” she said.
Our office was about a block and a half away. Walking behind her, I saw that there was a small wet spot on the back of her gray skirt. I’ve always admired her rear end, and a chance to watch it walking closely in front of me was a real treat.
Linda walked very quickly, and it was hard to keep up with her. We entered the lobby of the building, and got into the elevator. The door closed on the two of us. The second it did, she put her hand between her legs, and was half bent over.
“I don’t know if I can hold it until we get upstairs,” she said in an oddly tight voice. Linda’s legs were in a knot around her hand. The elevator door finally opened on our floor, and I followed Linda as she raced into our office. She ran into the bathroom in the office, and called out to me to help her.
Linda tore off her skirt, and both hands were clamped between her legs. She told me to unbutton her shirt and get it off her. I was able to unbutton her shirt, but she wouldn’t take her hands away from her crotch to get the sleeves off. I could see her tan pantyhose going underneath what appeared to be a heavy panty girdle. Her shirt then opened farther, and I could see that her underwear is a one–piece bra/panty girdle, which appeared exquisitely tight.
“Oh God, oh God, I just can’t hold it.” Linda muttered. With that she squatted over the toilet, and just let loose… right through her pantyhose and girdle. Linda sat down on the toilet, and she had a look of real relief when she finally stopped peeing. She sat there, panting for a moment, and when she regained her equilibrium, she told me that I had to drive her home so she could change.
Linda buttoned her blouse and put her skirt back on. She took a towel from the bathroom and wrapped it around her waist until we would get into the building’s parking structure. Once in the car, she began to explain. Linda told me that she just loves being encased in a girdle; the tighter the better, and that it turns her on something fierce. She added that since she’s been a teenager, she has loved the feeling of a full bladder, and usually tries to wait until the last possible moment to relieve herself. This time she just misjudged how badly she had to pee.
Linda also told me that she had forgotten that she wore pantyhose under this girdle. She lifted up her skirt so I could see her pee soaked girdle (at which point I almost drove off the road), and she showed me that it had a split crotch; so that when worn with regular stockings, she could separate the material to pee without the necessity of getting entirely undressed. However with the pantyhose, she had to get completely undressed. While running out of the courtroom, she thought she could just lift up her skirt, separate the material, and pee. She said she realized that with the pantyhose underneath the girdle, she wouldn’t be able to hold it long enough to get undressed.
With all of what happened, I was hard and wet myself, and I was getting so turned on that I wanted to climb the walls. As we drove, Linda put her hand on my thigh, and thanked me for “rescuing her.” Her hand was high enough to feel my excitement. She gently squeezed it, and I almost exploded.
We were about half way to her house when she said that the wet pantyhose and the wet girdle made her have to pee again… and as badly as before. This time, openly, Linda lifted her skirt, and put her hands between her legs. She was pressing hard, and at the same time, appeared to be plenty aroused, as I detected her hips moving against her hands. Linda crossed her legs across her hands. “Please hurry, I’m going to pee in my pants again,” she whimpered.
As we neared her complex, Linda was biting her lip, and squirming around in her seat. We parked and got into her elevator. I could no longer resist this beautiful woman with her hands between her legs, half bent over with desperation to pee. I kissed her, long, hard, and deep. Much to my delight, she kissed me back. The elevator door opened, and we ran to the door of her apartment. Linda fumbled with the keys and was finally unable to unlock the door, and she nearly lost control.
Once inside, she again tore off her skirt. She took my hand and clamped it between her legs with the instruction for me to hold her crotch as hard as I could. It was all I could do to believe that I was holding the crotch of this beautiful woman, who was soaked with pee. Linda was truly frantic trying to unbutton her shirt, and she finally ripped the last two buttons.
“Get this girdle off me now,” she yelled, as she ran into the bathroom, with me close behind. Once again, she didn’t make it. “Oh shit,” she muttered, as she sat down on the toilet and let go. She peed like there was no tomorrow.
When she finished, she stood up, and removed the sodden girdle and pantyhose, and tossed them into the sink. Linda turned on the shower. She began to unbutton my shirt. “After the shower, I have an even tighter girdle, and I’m sure you’d love for me get it wet wouldn’t you.”
Phil