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This is a question Desperate Times

Stranded in a hotel in an African war zone with no internet access for two weeks, I was forced to resort to desperate measures. Possessing only my passport and the clothes I stood up in; and the warning "You can catch it shaking hands with a vicar out there" ringing in my ears, I had to draw my own porn in order to preserve my sanity.

Alas, it all came out looking like Coronation Street's Audrey Roberts, but, as they say, any port in a storm.

What have you done in times of great desperation?

(, Thu 15 Nov 2007, 10:10)
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My Wet Ride Home From Slough
(Not me - but a friend... lets caller her Missy...)

I had been talking all day and my mouth was rather dry. We had had our coffee break quite late, and I had drunk a nice cup of tea. After that I had another couple of glasses of water because the central heating was on and it made my throat dry. That and all the talking anyway.

I must have left Slough, which is on the outskirts of London, at about 5 pm. I had a journey of about 100 miles – probably take me about 2 and a half hours given the traffic at that time of the evening.

I did have a wee before I left Slough office. Got in the car and set off. Headed for Windsor and the M3, but was still thirsty so started to drink the bottle of water I keep in the car for such times. About a half a litre I guess. Bad mistake number 1!

Kept driving – traffic heavy but moving. Got to M3 - only needed to drive one junction down, then come off and head for Farnborough and Farnham. As I approached Farnham – guess I was about half way by now, it started to get dark. I guess it was about 7 o’clock by now.

And my bladder was starting to tell me how full it was getting. I was getting very uncomfortable! But although there were services along the way I decided to plod on. I had to stop off at Andy’s on the way home to drop something off for Chris, and that was only about 40 minutes away. I could wait until then for a pee.

The trouble with water is – it goes through me VERY quickly. And that bottle was getting through now. I got onto the Petersfield road. Not that much further but getting more desperate by the second. There was no way now I could stop because there were no services and as it was now pitch black and I was on a country road I was not going to risk a lay by stop. I had my black business suit on – with trousers. Not as easy to pee discreetly in that. Had I had a skirt I may have been able to swivel my bum out of the door discreetly and pee without getting out the car – but not with trousers.

So on I went. Feeling more uncomfortable and full all the time. That particular road is quite bumpy. As I approached the A3 near Petersfield I hit a nasty pothole, and that was enough to make me leak pee into my panties. Not a lot but enough to make them and my trousers quite damp.

I was getting very uncomfortable and desperate by now. There was nowhere to stop. I was cursing myself for not stopping earlier. By now I was leaking pee quite often – every time I moved or hit a bump. My trousers were getting very damp and my car seat was in danger of getting soaked. I really didn’t know what to do for the best. I put my foot down and arrived at Andy’s about 5 minutes later.

I very carefully got out the car and realised there was no way I could use his loo – I would have had to walk right through the house and my trousers were quite obviously wet by now. I could feel there was a patch at the back about a foot across. So I went to the front door, dropped off Chris’s money, and hastily got back into the car for the 20 minute drive home.
I knew I was going to struggle, so I got the car rug from the back of the car and sat on that – just in case. I rolled it up into a big pad and stuck it under my bum.

I hit the M27 which took me almost home and put my foot down. But by now I was beginning to feel quite ill and faint with desperation. The rug was jammed up between my legs and doing a good job stopping me leak. But actually I needed to because I felt so bad. So every so often I lifted my bum and squirted some pee out. But the trouble was it didn’t ease it – I was SO full up. So I jiggled myself around a bit so that I could pee and let out as much as I could. It gushed out and flooded the rug. But I still had more to go – lots of it and the rug was getting full.

I was feeling quite sick now. I pulled off the motorway at my junction. Only about 5 minutes to go. Still had to let a bit out – a squirt here and there – to relieve the pressure a bit.
I did a lot more than the 30 mph limit. Luckily I didn’t get stopped. If the police had stopped me and made me get out of the car they would definitely have got more than they bargained for!

I got to the turning for my estate. Nearly there. By now my trousers were uncomfortably soaked and cold and I was planning my escape to the loo. I wouldn’t unload my bags from the car until I had rushed in to the loo. I knew where my key was – I could make it. Pulled up onto the drive. Nearly there. Just fleetingly I considered whether I would make it to the kitchen and pee all over the floor.

I let a thought flash through my mind that perhaps it would be better to piss myself outside and make a mess there. That was enough for my brain to tell my bladder to let go. As I swung my legs from the car and stood up I started. I peed and peed and peed. I kicked my shoes off quickly because they were in danger of getting a good soaking. I could smell the urine smell even though I was out in the open. My trousers were absolutely soaked. The piss was pouring down my legs in rivers and puddling at my feet. My socks were dripping I must have kept going for several minutes.

Fortunately the car door was sheltering me from prying eyes of neighbours, but if they could see the look of relief on my face I feel sure they would have known what was going on! They could probably see the pee running out of the bottom of my trousers and dripping through the gravel drive anyway

When I had eventually finished, I grabbed the rug, sploshed up the garden, opened the back door and just dropped my trousers and socks on the doorstep on the rug. I have never been so wet in my life.

I grabbed a towel, unloaded the car with the towel round my waist and had a shower. The clothes and rug all went into the washing machine. Luckily my car seat, which is leather, didn’t suffer any lasting damage.
(, Fri 16 Nov 2007, 15:26, 3 replies)
It's on such occasions
that it's very handy to be a man!
(, Fri 16 Nov 2007, 15:37, closed)
May i suggest you invest in a couple and leave them in the car for "easy" reach. Just in case.
(, Fri 16 Nov 2007, 17:28, closed)
I need the loo now. And it's a long walk from my office to the nearest loo. Damn you!
(, Fri 16 Nov 2007, 17:56, closed)

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