Desperation in the Desert

Just to set the scene, I’m a bi girl, into watching. My name is Summer.
A few years ago, I was on a bus traveling across Australia on my gap year. I was sitting right at the back in the window seat and a pretty, blonde girl was sitting on the opposite side. The desert had been rolling by for hours and I hadn’t really taken much notice of her. But then I noticed she was beginning to fidget. She was trying to read a map, jiggling the whole time. After a minute she turned to me, leaned over the empty seats and said. “Excuse me, do you know how much further we’ve got to go?”
I looked at my watch. “About 2 hours.”
She smiled and thanked me and sat back in her seat. But she couldn’t sit still. She stared out of the window, all the time bumping her knees together. Then she worked her hands under her legs, fingers upturned and rocked back and forth. After a few minutes, she turned to me again and said, “do you think there’ll be anywhere to stop soon?”
I shrugged, “I doubt it.”
“I’m so desperate for the bathroom!” She said crossing her legs.
“Why don’t you ask the driver to stop?”
“Oh what, in front of all these people, no way!” She shook her head.
I gave her a sympathetic smile. “You slept through the comfort break. I should have woken you.”
“I wish you had.” She said, jigging frantically. Again she glanced out of the window, and then said, “God. I’m so desperate! I don’t think I can hold on much longer.”
I looked at her frayed Levi cut–offs and crossed my fingers. She was biting her pretty lips, still pressing her fingers against her pussy.
“What do I do?” She said.
“Talk to the driver,” I replied.
With a deep breath, she said, “OK” and got up. She moved gracefully down the bus and I saw her talking to the driver. After a moment, she walked calmly back and sat down a seat closer to me.
“So?”
“He said No! He said there’s nowhere to stop and I’d have to wait.”
“Typical man, it’s OK for them, they can just pee in a bottle!”
“I wish I had a bottle.” She said. “Guess I’ll just have to wait.”
“Try to think about something else.”
The bus hit a bump, “Oooh, that was close.” She said and then she looked at me and said “I’m going to have to use my hand to hold it, if you don’t mind.”
I shrugged as she slid one hand between her legs and squeezed her crotch as hard as she could.
“Did you tell him how desperate you were?”
“Not exactly.” She confessed, “I just asked if he could stop. It’s too embarrassing to say I REALLY need to go.”
“Go and tell him that you have to go or else.”
As much as the thought of this sexy girl wetting herself so close to me was driving me mad, I felt sorry for her.
“I don’t think I can make it. I keep nearly peeing just sitting here. What if I wet myself half way down the bus?”
“You won’t. Just run.”
“Oh God!” Half crouching, clutching at her crotch she tottered to the front. Standing on one leg, she begged the driver to stop. He said loudly “You’ll have go behind the bus.”
The bus slowed and the doors opened. She ran under my window, yanking at her shorts and I saw her crouch down. I could only see the top of her head and envied passing drivers their view. After about a minute the driver revved the bus and roared, “Hurry up, will you?”
I saw her stand, fasten her shorts and run back.
The bus pulled out as she stumbled back to me. She was flushed and shaking. “I couldn’t go!” She whispered frantically. “I got stage fright and nothing came out!”
I was in heaven.
She crossed her legs. “What do I do?” She was almost pleading.
“Sit on your heel, see if that helps.”
She did, kicking off her sandals and shivering as she sat back down. “How much longer?”
“About an hour and a half.”
She shook her head “I can’t wait that long. I’m going to lose it any minute. Ooh, God that was close. I keep getting these big urges, like it’s coming.” She dug her fingers back into her groin. “I can’t keep squeezing, it’s not working. Oh, there’s another one. What am I going to do?” She was nearly crying.
“I don’t know.”
“I’m going to wet myself any second.” She pushed her other hand between her legs and looked at me. “Jesus, it’s coming.”
She was barely a foot away from me. I could see the tears in her eyes. “Why don’t you just take your shorts down and pee on the floor?”
“I can’t. They can see me.” She pointed at the passengers in front of us. She was right.
“Ask the driver to stop again.”
“I can’t. I’ll wet myself if I move.” And again she ground her crotch against her heel.
The waiting was delicious. And, with a pounding heart, I took hold of her hand. “Don’t worry.”
She smiled gratefully and squeezed my fingers. Then her expression changed. “Oh God, I think I’ve done some.” She slowly tilted her hips up, still pressing with her fingers and we both looked down at her crotch. Sure enough, a small squirt had escaped her.
“No one will see that.”
Frantically she grabbed hold of her shorts and pulled them right up tight against her pussy, parted thighs trembling.
“I can’t stop it!” She whispered, “It’s all going to come.”
We watched as a big spurt jetted through her fingers. “Oh God, I’m wetting myself.”
An uncontrollable stream gushed through the denim and over her foot. She half stood up, turning her back on the other passengers, but she couldn’t stop peeing. Thick gold rivers raced down her bare legs and an arc of droplets fell from her crotch, spattering loudly on the floor. Face flaming, tears falling, she just stood there, watching the pee run between her toes and make a puddle. Her bladder must have been so full, as she stood in front of me peeing for an eternity and I could hear people turning in their seats to see her. Then her humiliation was finally over and she crawled into her seat.
I gave her a sympathetic smile and whispered. “Don’t worry about it.” The last thing I could do was tell how turned on I was.
This was an amazing encounter, but there are more, so I’ll write them down when I get time and send them in.
Summer