The Long Afternoon

My name is Lynne and this is the story of the longest afternoon of my life. I was new to the typing pool, it was my first job, and I loved it. There were 12 of us, all girls in our 20s, and although we worked hard we had a lot of laughs. I dressed to fit in with the others – a smart brown suit with a short skirt that was barely decent. I felt good, and I looked good! Friday lunchtimes we went to the pub, taking a full hour. Colin – our immediate boss – would buy us all a drink, and we would all be a bit high as the weekend approached. The events I am going to tell you about happened on one of those fridays which started off exactly as usual.
We had our morning coffee at 11, we were working hard. Lunch was a welcome break, and we trooped off to the pub. Colin brought us the lagers, and we chipped in for a second round. Two pints each left us tipsy and happy, this was the home stretch. I was by now acutely aware of my full bladder, and hooking my ankles under my chair I rhythmically squeezed my thighs together. We all had an unwritten rule – you pee during work time, not your own time – so it was just a matter of hanging on until we got back to the office. Then unexpectedly Colin went to the bar and bought us each a 3rd pint – “My treat” was all he said – and we thanked him and drank up. By the time we left the pub I couldn’t keep still for a moment. It was years since I had been as desperate as this and I was hoping I would make it back to the office in time.
Well I did, and went straight to the loo. Unexpectedly the door was open, and when I went in there was a plumber with the cistern off and lying in bits on the floor. “Oh no” I cried, crossing my legs hard, “What are you doing?” “Sorry love” he said, “I’ll be as quick as I can.” Fully half the office was queued up behind me and there was a groan as I told them the news. Not one of us had emptied our bladders all day, and our half pint of coffee and 3 lagers had really hit the spot. We filed into the office and sat at our desks.
Fifteen minutes later not one girl was sitting still. We typed, and squirmed, crossing and uncrossing our legs. Only Colin appeared comfortable, and – thinking back – had a slight smirk on his face. I was now in big trouble. My body was quivering with the effort of squeezing my weary sphincter, and nothing I did seemed to give any relief. I slid forward and back on my chair banging my thighs together, and periodically wriggled my bum hard onto the edge of the chair. I pushed hard at the top of my thighs, and stuck my bum out backwards sucking through my teeth. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. I became aware of Colin coming back into the room – “Not long now girls” he announced, and got glared at. I slipped my hand between my thighs and pressed hard with my fingertips. That was good – but I couldn’t go to the loo like that. It was half–past–three, what was that plumber doing? Nobody spoke now, and the room was filled with the erratic rhythmic sound of tights rubbing together or against seats. We passed on afternoon coffee – except for Colin, and dutifully typed on. Out of the corner of my eye I could see constant movement, we were all absolutely dying for the loo, every desk had an uncomfortable wriggling girl sitting at it, every seat was in danger of being suddenly soaked. I now became aware of my next problem. My desk was furthest from the door, there was one loo. There would be a queue and I would be close to last. My mind spun as I wriggled in my seat, but I could think of no easy way out – could I survive listening to a series of long hard peeings? I doubted it, but what choice did I have.
It was fully 4.15 when the plumber stuck his head in, “OK girls, that’s me done.” And was gone. There was a rush to the door, and we jostled into a rough queue. I was second last, one girl in the loo, and nine more to go before I got my relief. None of us pretended now, we danced and held ourselves, there were groans and that sucking noise through the teeth that doesn’t help but has to be done. And we could all hear each long hard stream, often ending in several short trickles. Each sound caused my bladder to tighten violently, only by clenching my fists, curling my toes hard, and squeezing with all my strength could I keep myself dry. I was sweating, and worse I was tiring. Each spasm seemed stronger, the effort required harder. And the cooridor was packed with girls doing exactly the same! The queue was moving soooo slowly I couldn’t believe it.
Just as I thought I might make it, the girl in front of me wet herself. I heard her “Ohhh”, and she clawed at her groin. Then there was a hissing that muffled slightly as she crossed her legs. Her eyes were shut, and I watched her tights shine as her pee poured out. As I watched I felt the first squirt into my own panties and I clenched my pee–hole muscles hard. Then there was another squirt, and another. I could do nothing to stop them. I hooked both hands hard against my fanny – one from in front, one from behind and pulled upwards. And still I was spurting warm urine. I became aware of the sound of yet another hard stream from the loo, and my bladder gave up. Pee cascaded through my fingers, running hot down my legs. I kicked off my shoes, and watched my puddle mingle with the one already there. When I finally got into the loo, I put my tights and panties in the bin, and dried myself off. I felt strangely turned–on, and I rubbed myself to a shuddering gasping climax. This was an unexpected pleasure, and I returned and sat knickerless in the office for the final half–hour of the day. I was sure Colin (bulge in trousers) had engineered this, but how could we prove it?
Well each day now is even more fun. I drink like a fish and hold off until I am absolutely bursting and squirming uncontrollably at my desk. Just when I am about to lose control I slip out to the loo and straddle the pan – this puts all the pressure on my sphincter and I have to squeeze with all my might. I often wait for several minutes like this then I slip one finger against my clit and slowly, slowly run it up and down. By this stage I am slippery with anticipation. I try not to breath too noisily – and bite my lip as my climax approaches. It’s always a double pleasure the orgasm and the rush of my pent–up pee into the loo. Colin pays a lot of attention too me, now ….. We’ll see.
Squirm