Pink Dress

I’ve titled this “pink dress” as i have no idea as to the identity of the main character (This is a real incident observed by me), just that she was wearing a figure–hugging pink dress…
The story begins with taking a minibus–load of people to see a concert at Wembley a few years ago.
Naturally, you can’t get parked anywhere near, so the minibus was in a small car park about a quarter of a mile away. I’d walked back to the stadium, to try and spot the party I was collecting. Naturally, a large crowd of people was coming out, and most of them were walking down the access road, which was about a quarter of a mile, I guess, although I bet it seemed further to the girl in the pink dress.
She was slim, and wearing that dress– nothing out of the ordinary, just a pretty girl, nothing to make one look twice, really– except that something about her said “desperation”. When I first saw her she’d just come out of the stadium, and was walking with what I assumed were her parents; she had that slightly awkward gait which some girls and indeed women have when they really need to pee, slightly leaning forward and with a sort of carefully controlled stride, not a normal relaxed pace. At this point she didn’t really look too desperate, as such, just that she needed to find a toilet fairly soon. Unbeknown, apparently, to either her or the parents, there was a toilet close by, I knew this as I’d found it myself a short while before – however, it wasn’t obvious, so they can be excused for missing it.
As I said, something about her made me look twice, and on looking again I could see the strain in her face. They continued up the road, and I, matching their pace, walked along, separated from them by about 10ft of roadway and various people passing. The girl was obviously getting much more desperate, her pace was slowing as she tried to keep her thighs pressed together while still at the same time walking. I guess we were about halfway to the main road by now. I’d drifted slightly closer, people were moving past all the time, so this wasn’t an issue. I overheard the mother, if indeed she was the mother, a large, comfortable–looking woman, saying “she can’t go far, mind” to the man who was presumably her husband. By now the girl was in trouble, her steps were getting shorter and shorter, and I could imagine the desperate pressure in her bladder – the thought of it was starting to give me a hard–on, but then I often find that desperate women or girls turn me on – probably I’m a bit weird :–)
Anyhow, to return to the story… the girl seemed to recover slightly, and carried on walking with the same short, mincing steps. She was bending forwards, now, all the time, holding on to her mother’s hand. I overheard the mother say, “there’s one in the lobby of the hotel, you don’t have to go up to the room,” by which I assumed they were staying in the hotel near the main road, which was still some 200 or so yards distant. The girl was clearly struggling now, but she didn’t try to put her hand between her legs, I guess she couldn’t face the additional embarrassment. She did have one hand pressed to her abdomen for a while, and I imagined the ache in her bladder. At this point she could hardly move, she was bent forward noticeably, her thighs held together, taking very rapid tiny steps, her eyes were brimming with tears, presumably of mixed humiliation and pain. I never noticed anything, so I assume she managed to weather the storm and avoided peeing in her knickers, because after a while she managed to start walking slightly more normally again, though still slowly and with short steps. She didn’t appear to have any more crises on the rest of what must have seemed to her like an endless walk to the hotel.
I watched her as far as the hotel entrance, but chickened out of actually going into the lobby… imagination has to take over from this point – I have visions of her finding a queue for the toilets in the lobby, waiting for a while in increasing panic, then deciding to try to make it up in the lift to whatever floor their rooms were on…
By: Watcher