Long Way Home

Hi, I’m Sara, I’m 23 and from England. I’ve always been into being desperate, but have always had quite a strong bladder and the idea of actually wetting myself in public has always been a bit daunting. I don’t know why, but recently, my bladder seems to have started to get weaker and I have been in a few uncomfortable situations.
The other day, I was leaving the office – I drink a lot of water at work, perhaps 3 pints, and coffee, perhaps 2 cups so I go to the toilet about 6 times in the working day – anyway, I didn?t think I needed a toilet stop before I left, so I casually walked down the stairs. It was about 6pm and I hadn’t been to the toilet for a good few hours and I’d drunk about a pint or so of water since then. As I started leaving, I felt a bit of pressure in my bladder and considered going back upstairs, as it would take me about an hour to get home, but I really wanted to get home and cockily I decided I could manage it. As I got outside, the cold air hit me and I don’t know what it is about cold weather, but it makes me desperate to pee. I felt a pang, but I kept on walking as this seemed to take the desperation away a little bit.
I can wear quite casual clothes to work, so I had a long coat on, with tight, pale blue jeans on underneath.
I got to the tube station and made sure not to stay still on the escalator as I knew staying still was my worst enemy. At least inside the station it was a bit warmer, so my bladder ached a little less.
I stood on the train platform surrounded by people with my legs firmly crossed; wondering if there was a toilet at my stop. As the train pulled in, I pushed in front of people to secure myself a seat as I knew if I had to stand up the whole way it would be agony.
I sat down and started reading the paper. I crossed my legs tightly and felt a lot better. By the time I had to change tubes I had almost forgotten about my desperation and running around the next station and again securing a seat meant that I wasn’t in too much pain, although my jeans were feeling tight against my bladder now and I was crossing my legs tighter than ever as well as shuffling in my seat.
There wasn’t long left now until I got home, but I remembered I had to go to the supermarket on the way back to pick up something for dinner. I decided I’d be alright as I wasn’t feeling too bad and besides, I’d been far more desperate than this in the past and managed to hold it in – well most times.
I got off the tube and again, raced up the escalator. The air was freezing and my bladder ached so badly. I rushed over to the supermarket across the road, not having to wait at the pedestrian crossing. I picked up a basket and went and looked at the salad. For the first time in a long time, I was standing still and it was torment. I crossed my legs and shuffled from side to side. I needed to pee really badly and I’d only just noticed what a difficult situation I was in. I clenched my pee muscles together. I couldn’t stop thinking about my intense desperation and couldn’t decide what I wanted to buy. This just meant I had to stand for longer. I wriggled around and tried to look at prices without drawing too much attention to myself. I picked up a packet and scurried off to the pizza aisle, this time I picked up the first one. Then over to the salad dressing, checking the calorie content, I pressed my thighs together and jiggled up and down. I picked up another bottle and compared. This was agony. I chose the bottle with the least calories and slung it into my basket rushing over to the smallest queue, putting my things on the belt, moving around as much as I could when I did. I crossed my legs over tightly and felt the pain, my body desperate to pee.
The queue seemed to be taking forever. There were two people in front of me and the woman at the front was paying, looking around in her bag for her purse at the same time as trying to console her crying child. I looked down to suss out the length of my coat. I figured if I peed just a little bit, no one would be able to see even if it went through the crotch of my jeans. I let a little go, soaking my thong and wetting the very top of my thighs. I felt naughty, but I still needed to go. I squeezed my legs together and my crotch was slightly damp and rubbed against my legs. I wondered if there would be a stain yet. I thought not as I’d only let a little go. I let a little more out as I finally approached the front of the queue. Now I was sure I’d wet my jeans. I didn’t want to pee any more as I was certain it would start dripping from my crotch – I had wet myself in my house a few times trying to hold pee for as long as I could and usually failing and peeing myself, so I knew how much I could get away with. I was really hoping my housemates weren’t in when I got home.
I paid for my items, now with wet pants, but still just as desperate. As I got outside, the cold hit me once again. I scurried off towards the crossing. I pressed the button and seemed to wait a life time. I couldn’t hold it. A long spurt shot out of my pussy and now, as I had expected, started dripping onto the floor. There was no one around, but I quickly tensed my pussy knowing that pee was going to start to show on the bottom of my jeans as I could feel the hot pee stain spread across my thighs. The signal turned green and I hurried across the road. Unfortunately not much further on, there was another crossing. Again it was red. I couldn’t hold it and I let another longer spurt shoot out. This time I found it hard to stop the stream. It splashed on the floor and down my legs. The people in the cars must have been able to see. The signal turned green and I ran across to the island in the middle where the signal was still red. Pee shot out again. Now my jeans were soaked. It turned green and i ran down the dark backstreets to my house. I got to my door and fumbled for my keys. I shuffled around on the spot. A quick spurt hit my already soaked trousers. I struggled to get the key in the door. I gave up, I let the rest of the pee out on the doorstep. Flooding out of me, down my legs and soaking even my coat.
Luckily my housemates were not home. I ran up to the bathroom, took off my soaking wet clothes, showered myself and put my stuff in the washing machine.
By: Sara