LICENSING.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License:
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/
* * *
THE INTERNATIONAL BEVERAGE FAIR
By googlism2008
* * *
Frank got out of his bed, feeling excited. The international beverage fair is in town, and he is looking forward to going, trying out the various kinds of drinks on offer, and purchasing some for his own consumption. He went about doing his usual morning routine: first he used the toilet, brushed his teeth, took a shower, and then ate his breakfast, finishing with a cup of coffee, while browsing through the morning newspaper.
Now it is time to get changed. Frank opened his wardrobe. A pair of white jeans caught his eye. It was relatively expensive, but something he rarely put on. While he loved the way the skinny jeans fit on his body, it was a big pain in the ass whenever he needed to pee. He hesitated a bit, but figured out that he should wear it at least a couple more times before discarding the jeans. And so this white skin-tight garment become his bottoms, over a very snug pair of trunks. He fastened up the laces on his fly closure and tied a knot. Figuring that he could perhaps train up his patience a bit more, he proceeded to put on an oversized brown leather belt. Next, he picked up a red and blue plaid button-down shirt, with the sleeves folded just below his elbow. Finally, he topped it off with a black cap over his curly blonde hair.
Frank looked into his full length mirror. He saw a relatively tall and lean person. Under the tight fitting shirt was a body with toned muscles, not yet six pack, but the results of hitting the gym can be seen. Below the shirt was an ass-tight and crotch hugging pair of jeans, sporting his nice butts at the back, and showing off a fairly large tightly packed package at the front which he is proud of. As the jeans is slightly stretchable, he felt comfortable wearing it despite its tightness. In the mirror image, he noticed again the lace up fly with ten holes on each side of the fly, and suddenly had an ominous thought: would he get caught short and not be able to undo it in time? Almost instantly, he shrugged it off. He picked up his usual backpack, put on a pair of sneakers, and then got on the way. As he walked, he felt slightly aroused as his extremely tight jeans rubbed against his privates. He is really looking forward to satisfy his taste buds.
A couple of minutes later, Frank arrived at the bustling city train station. Seeing a water dispenser, he drank some water to quench his thirst. Then Frank got on to a line that he used little. Thanks to a rail tunnel that opened a month ago, the trip to the destination station was only one stop at slightly only over thirty minutes, shaving off approximately half the commuting time. With the assistance of the mapping application on his mobile phone, he navigated off the station into a residential area, and then onto a road with open grassland on both sides. It struck him as odd why the international beverage fair was located at a location that is so out of the way, however he reasoned that the fair was organized by a major importer of such beverages, and they owned the premises. Nevertheless, there are quite a number of people heading towards the same direction under the cool morning sky. About fifteen minutes later, he arrived at the fair, and entered a warehouse turned makeshift exhibition hall.
Once inside, Frank saw a large array of exhibitions of beverages, grouped under various flags from all over the world. The first thing that caught his attention was Japanese milk, and since he was already thirsty from the journey, he ordered a glass on the spot. The fresh milk has this smooth, rich, and creamy taste that lingered inside his mouth. He enjoyed it very much, and purchased one box of this milk. Next, he sipped in a small glass of exquisite French wine, and liked it sufficiently to buy a small bottle. As he proceeded down the aisles, trying out the various kinds of beverages and getting what he fancied, he was awed by the very wide selection that is available in this fair. Over the many stalls, he found various coffees, teas, juices, alcoholics, sodas, and even some items he never ever considered as a drink, literally from all continents except Antarctica, including both the cheap but good stuff and the higher-class goods. Overall, Frank found the quality of the imports of a generally high standard, and he found a number of fruit juices quite interesting, including known items such as Brazilian apple and New Zealand kiwi, but also new ones such as Chinese bitter gourd. He was not that a big fan of alcoholic drinks, but liked many of the coffees such as those from Italy and Turkey, as well as teas from the United Kingdom and India. The Indonesian bandung was too sweet for his personal preference, but the Thai coconut has this mild cooling flavour that nicely neutralized the overly strong flavour.
Having savioured all kinds of beverages, and purchased a full backpack’s load of these, it is time for Frank to go home. He patted his bloated tummy. He must have imbibed too much liquids. So even though he totally did not feel any need from his bladder, he thought that it is prudent to use the loo before embarking on the return journey. He hit a stall, locked the doors, and saw the obstacle in front of his jeans. He let out a soft sigh, and started the major operation of opening his pants. The belt wasn’t exactly easy to come off, and he had to carefully undo a knot, but the process of loosening the laces on his fly seemed to take at more than half a minute to accomplish. Certainly a great way of training up patience, no? In any case, he could now start his precautionary pee. Thus he urinated noisily into the toilet bowl. He kept going and going and going. And continued peeing for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, the stream stopped, perhaps close to a minute. He was astonished by how much pee he had inside him, especially when he felt no urges at all. Frank shook the last drops off, stuffed his privates back into the very constricted confines of his underwear and jeans, and did up his jeans again. Feeling confident, he yanked up his laces as hard as he could, tied a tight knot, and buckled up as tight as possible, because he always loved that feeling of having his nether regions tightly compressed.
Having expelled so much, and with a completely empty bladder, Frank felt that he is now in safe territory, confident that he could go home and get out of his jeans before he needed to use a toilet again. Perhaps he could also have time to drop by the food court and get a packed lunch. In a very satisfying mood, he leisurely strolled out of the exhibition hall back into the open grassland. The weather had become quite warm, and he appreciated that the ice packs in his backpack cooled his back. Nevertheless he started to sweat, so he took out a bottle of chilled cranberry juice to cool him down. He loved cranberry juice, but it was difficult to get it near his home. In any case, it would lighten the load on his shoulders. He slowly sipped the drink while he continued his way. Frank could see a stream of people leaving the fair, and also a stream of people heading towards the fair. After fifteen minutes of walking through mostly open spaces, he entered the residential area, and arrived at the train station five minutes ahead of schedule.
At the platform, the digital board showed that the train would be ten minutes late. Frank leaned against the railings at the rear of the platform, and took in the view of his surrounding environment. He felt a very slight sensation down there, but ignored it. The station was on a gentle ridge, with the railway tracks running on it. This ridge elevated the station several meters over the residential area, providing excellent vantage of the entire area. Various commercial and industrial buildings were visible in the open area beyond the residential area, with the buildings of the beverage importer in sight in the far distance. Another familiar twinge returned to his bladder. It caught him in a bit of surprise, as he thought he had voided his bladder shortly before. Soon the signals returned in increasing frequency and strength, and he crossed his legs tightly to suppress the urges. He started to visually scan the surrounding area for a place where he could relieve himself. After all, the train service is frequent, and he could always board a subsequent train. Unfortunately, all he could see was houses after houses, with no public facilities in sight.
For a while Frank was more comfortable, and figured that he could wait until he got back to the city. Across the ridge, he noticed a small cluster of buildings, with small shops and a supermarket, marking the town center. However, it was as far as the international beverage fair. Even though he would have liked to empty his bladder, it seemed ridiculous to make a half hour detour just to pee, when the train would have brought him into the city station in perhaps thirty minutes, forty minutes tops. However, the pressure soon returned, and he could feel his bladder rapidly filling. He started to worry that he might not make it back to the city. He straightened himself, and began pacing up and down the platform as he considered doing an outside pee nearby. But the immediate vicinity of the station was just a bare open space, covered with short grass with no trees whatsoever. The unmanned platform has not even a wall, and the station signs were too small to provide any meaningful shielding. And there are people everywhere: people on the platform, and people outside the single-storey houses doing a variety of activities, such as barbequing, suntanning, and tending to their gardens. There was absolutely no place at or near the train station where he could have some privacy.
Just as Frank was seriously pondering his next step, he heard the train pulling in. He hesitated slightly, but boarded the train nevertheless, still somewhat optimistic that he could be able to hold it in until the destination, except that he would need a very urgent visit to the station toilets. The all-stops service has quite a large population catchment, so even though there were no standing passengers, most of the seats were already occupied. The train was configured to have sideways facing seats, so he picked an empty seat abutting the end of the train car. He sat down and rested his backpack on his laps. Immediately, the waistband of his very tight jeans piled constant pressure onto his already distended bladder, which forced him to clamp his sphincter muscles hard and squeezed his thighs. He adjusted himself slightly into a somewhat slouched posture, which eased the pressure somewhat.
Suddenly Frank felt his bladder being chilled, which caused his bladder to send another strong contraction. Instinctively, he pushed his backpack slightly off his bladder and squeezed his legs again. Those ice packs! Frank started to wonder why he needed to pee so bad. Then he remembered that he had sampled a large variety of beverages, consumed a glass here and there, a bottle of this and that, and so on. Some of these are a few hundred milliliters each, so combined he must have imbibed in excess of two liters during the fair. Before that, he also had his morning coffee and an unknown quantity of plain water. No wonder despite he had earlier peed a full bladder load, the remainder of the liquids in his body were still waiting to be released. He surmised that had he not had the foresight to use the toilets before leaving the fair, he would have wet his pants by now, and he was both proud and thankful for that.
It did not help to think about his predicament further. Frank shifted his position slightly, and picked up his mobile phone to distract himself. He opened up a random game and went for some daily puzzles. For a short period of time, it worked. Then the urges crept back, so Frank focused even more on solving these puzzles in his attempt not to think about his bursting bladder. In the process, he unconsciously crossed his left leg tightly over his right leg, and allowed his backpack to slowly slide to the floor. This is shortly followed by an adjustment, a tight squeeze of his thighs, and his right legs crossed over his left legs. These actions repeated in a slow rhythmic manner. Suddenly, Frank found his left hand wedged between his crotch, and he realized that he was openly pee dancing in his seat. He removed his land from his crotch, but he was totally unable to stay still.
Frank was in great danger of flooding his jeans. He must find a place to pee as soon as possible. He needs to get out at the casino station, where he know exactly where the restrooms are. Then he looked up, and found himself in a pitch dark tunnel. Then he recalled that the train service had recently changed to use a more direct route, meaning that there are no stops until the city station. He let out a sigh as his hopes of getting his relief early was dashed. He went back to his phone to play more games, but he only managed to randomly open a number of apps, unable to make sense of whatever content that was displayed. He removed his cap and wiped off droplets of sweat from his forehead. Even though the train was properly air-conditioned, he was already sweating profusely from his efforts not to pee himself, with his legs already double crossed.
Frank put away his mobile phone, and noticed that the scenery has changed to a clear blue sky. He told himself, just ten minutes more. As his buttocks was now perched precariously at the edge of the seat, he shifted himself into an upright position. Immediately, both his hands instinctively flew to his crotch, as the combined pressure from the super tight belt, waistband and crotch of the jeans proved too much to bear. He had to uncross his legs to relieve some pressure. For the remainder of the journey, his thighs were pressed tightly together, and he left one hand cupped over his privates, even though he knew it was just a feeble attempt to prevent a leak while his bladder was constantly pulsating. It did not assist Frank in any way that the jeans were white, as any leak would be very visible. It did not assist him either that his bottoms were so tight that he could only press down on his tool, as he was unable to properly pinch it, much less grabbing it. It also did not help that the train was now travelling on a cliff, looking over the sea with gigantic crashing waves. Frank had to shut his eyes for a couple of minutes.
The cityscape came into view and Frank knew that his destination was near. The train rocked as it switched several tracks while entering the ten-platform city station, jolting the bladder extra hard. It was a bit of a miracle that he had not leaked as the train jolted to a stop. Frank tried to get up from his seat, but found it a major challenge as bending forwards with an extremely tight garment exerted a very significant amount of pressure on his bladder. He raised himself slowly with one hand on his crotch and the other hand picking up the heavy backpack, shaking heavily as he used every ounce of strength to contain the liquids in the overcompressed bladder. Once he managed to stand up and carry his backpack, his bladder screamed with a vengeance. Both hands flew down to press against the exit tube between his tightly squeezed thighs for several seconds before he regained control. Once this immediate emergency passed, he cautiously loosened his grip slightly and alighted from the train.
Unfortunately, Frank found himself at the wrong end of the platform. He pee danced his way towards the entrance, no longer able to care for his image in the large crowded city station. He bent forward slightly with his hands still at his crotch, concentrating on not spilling his overfull bladder, as he navigated his way through the people to get to the toilet as fast as he could. His white jeans was pressing very hard against his bladder, and the bladder was making waves after waves. A couple of times, the wave was so huge that he froze at the spot with his legs tightly crossed. Each time it happened, he managed to clamp the great pressure off, but he could feel the liquid travelling a wee bit down his tube. He secretly hoped that the extreme tightness of his jeans could clamp his tube shut. He was still safe, but only barely so. And thus, he made it into the toilet.
Frank shuffled his feet into the nearest stall, and fumbled to lock the door using his right hand while his left hand was still gripping his privates. The sight of the toilet bowl registered imminent relief to his brain, and immediately he felt his bladder shrieked at its hardest thus far. He straightaway clenched his sphincter muscles as hard as possible, concurrently aided by crossing one thigh tightly across the other with his left hand jammed in between. However, it was not sufficient to prevent a drop of liquid to seep out into his underwear. He gulped in horror, as this signaled the start of his loss of control. With the door locked, he lifted the toilet seat and started to reach for his belt. Before he could do anything with it, his bladder squeezed itself even more forcefully, resulting in a slightly bigger leak. He had to cross his legs and plunge both his hands down to his privates again. The pressure was unrelenting and he stayed motionless for several seconds, before it started to subside. Gingerly, he removed his left hand from his crotch, and tried to get the overly large tip of his belt through the belt loop on his jeans. It didn’t succeed, and sensing that he had some semblance of control, he freed up his right hand to work on this problem. With a sharp pull, he finally got the tip off, but this process sent another shockwave through his bladder. He sensed an even larger leak, and again he performed the evasive measure in his attempt to avert a disaster. And once he felt he had a sufficient handle on the emergency, he unbuckled his belt as quickly as possible, and let out a sigh of relief.
However, this action was almost his undoing, as his bladder contracted with such enormous force to cause another momentary loss of control, which immobilized him once again. Once temporarily in the clear, Frank found himself confronted with an even tougher puzzle. Still in the position of double crossed legs, and his loaded backpack weighing down on him, he had to figure out that tickling time bomb which was the knotted laces, as one wrong move and it’s game over right in front of the toilet bowl. The overpowering need to pee meant that his brain was totally consumed with the thought of not wetting himself, leaving no capacity to solve this puzzle. Unfortunately, merely clamping his tights in the attempt to starve off this sensation was futile, as it also added more pressure to a swollen bladder. Willing himself not to have an accident, he breathed in, and saw if he could relax his mind a little so that his body won’t be trembling so much. It turned out to be a bit of an oppsie, as he inadvertently let out even more urine. His trunks had become soaked and he could feel his jeans becoming damp as his hands pressed down on his crotch one more time. Not having an alternative, he had to do it again, hopefully more carefully this time. Indeed he succeeded in regaining just sufficient composure to find the ends of his laces, and finally yanked that troublesome knot free. As expected, this allowed even more liquid to escape, this time producing a visible tiny wet spot on his white jeans. And his two hands went down to press down as hard as possible, very tightly wedged between his crossed thighs in a bid to regain control.
Alas, the badly sought after control was never completely regained. With the body getting exhausted by the weighty backpack, and the sphincter muscles getting exhausted by all that holding, the relentless pressure led to one large spurt, even though his hands and thighs are there trying to keep the egress tube closed. Several seconds later, his bladder spasmed yet again, and another subsecond spurt occurred. The palms of his hands informed him that his wet spot was growing towards the size of a golf ball. Frank realized with great trepidation that he was running out of time, with his containment system already at the brink of total failure. Exasperated, he tried to push the front of his jeans down to free his privates, however it was held fast to his waist by the lace fly and never bulged even a centimeter. Trying to open his fly by pulling it apart was equally useless. In an almost panicking state, he tugged his laces between the holes in his struggle to loosen the fly, but he had to do it one by one from the top to the bottom. He was getting frustrated at how slow the entire process was, all the while helplessly observing the dark area on his jeans increasing to the size of his mobile phone and rapidly expanding, as pee was repeatedly jetting out into his pants in ever increasing frequency and duration.
After what appeared to be eons of time, Frank was able to open his fly wide enough to extricate his member. His bladder made a final release of more than a second before he managed to wiggle his willie out from his close fitting bottoms. It initially sprayed all over the toilet, and subsequently peed noisily into the toilet bowl. He panted heavily as he could finally uncross his legs, lean his left hand on the wall for support while aiming with his right hand, and entered a state of nirvana after that extreme hold. Beads of sweat was streaming down his head, while pee was ejecting forcefully and continuously for the longest time he ever knew. And it kept flowing and flowing and flowing. Finally, after perhaps a minute or so, the stream started to slow down gradually and eventually stopped after another half a minute. He squeezed out the final bits of pee from his bladder and then shook his privates. Never did he have such a satisfying pee in his entire life.
Slowly, he came to the realization of his damage and was shocked by what he saw. While not exactly fully flooding his white skinny jeans, both his trunks and his jeans were pretty much ruined. When he packed his privates snugly back into his sopping wet trunks, he noticed that it had almost become see-through, and his dripping wet jeans clearly sported a dark patch of the size of a dinner plate. Frank, an adult proud of his body, had utterly disgraced himself because his prized manhood had failed its mission. It was ridiculous that it happened in the toilet, right in front of the toilet bowl. The nightmare of not being able to undo his fly in time has become a reality. Frank tried to use wads of toilet paper to soak up the wetness in both his garments, but was dismayed to find that he could not remove the evidence of having wet himself.
Nevertheless, Frank could not stay in the toilet forever. Yet he had no change of clothes. Thus, he pulled up his jeans, tightly fastened his laces on the fly closure, and considered his way out from the stall into the city station and back home. He collected his thoughts, and in the end decided to just hold his backpack in front of his crotch to hide his misdeed as best as possible. It is likely some people would witness his accident, but hopefully nobody that he knows. Obviously, he would not go to the food court, and would order a delivery meal. With this, Frank put his plan into action. He busted out of the toilet and train station as fast as he could. He blushed heavily, held his head low, and avoided eye contact with people.
Soon after Frank departed the most crowded part of the city, he found himself becoming slightly hard as the wet fabric of his skin-tight jeans rubbed against his nether regions. After what appeared to be the longest minutes in his life, he completed his walk of shame and arrived at the safety of his home. As he put aside his backpack of drinks and peeled out of his wet mess, he considered what to do with his jeans. The pee seemed to be clear and hence his jeans was salvageable. He stepped into the bathroom and contemplated on this very weird experience as he showered. Somehow, this episode was both extremely disgraceful and exhilarating at the same time. Something secretly tells him that he wanted to relive this really intense experience. He decided to keep this pair of jeans for the time being, and engage in another holding challenge sometime in the near future. It might even involve the drinks he purchased at the international beverage fair. However, it will have to be in a more controlled and private setting.
Monday, June 12, 2023
Monday, November 26, 2018
Story: Guided Tour
LICENSING.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License:
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/
* * *
GUIDED TOUR
By googlism2008
* * *
It was the second day of the guided tour, and Alan woke up fresh. The continental breakfast at the hotel was good. The morning sky is bright, and the spring weather was fine. Prior to boarding the tour bus, Alan decided to pay a visit to the Gents. As expected, only a wee bit of urine was released, since he already had his morning pee in his hotel room before having his breakfast. With that, he is all set for the tour of the day, which he vaguely remembered as starting off with locations dotted in and around the city. Alan is looking forward for another great day in this tour.
Being 26, Alan was the youngest in the tour group. He had a build that is stocky but otherwise very balanced, fair skin and a pimpleless face. Alan was wearing a dark yellow jacket over a white printed long tee, tucked neatly inside a pair of black tight-fitting slim cut jeans, held together by a fashionable brown belt, sporting an average sized package for his build which he didn’t mind showing. With a cap over his curly hair, a pair of trendy sports shoes, and a small simple navy blue backpack to go along, Alan must be the most handsome guy in the group. The tour group had flown in from his home country on the previous day, and he had joined the group as an individual, which meant that everyone else were strangers. Fortunately, the tour group appeared friendly, and the introverted Alan he settled in quickly. Half an hour later, the bus arrived at a memorial park. The bus parked right next to the toilets, and Alan paid another precautionary visit to the urinals out of habit. Despite being in the middle of the city, the garden was quite large. After a brief walk around the park, he sat down and lazed on the nicely turfed grass. The structures of the war memorial rise spectacularly over the small rolling hills, and together with the blooming trees and blossoming flowers, made for a very pleasant scenery. Not being a historical buff, Alan didn’t care much of the historical significance of the war, but nonetheless he loved the view of the very well maintained garden. Soon, the allotted thirty minutes was up. Not being sure of how long he would be on the road, he made another tiny tinkle and boarded the 25-seater tour bus. The bus looked rather luxurious, with wide seats and lots of legroom, so Alan was very comfortable on the bus.
The tour guide continued his introduction of the city while Alan sipped from his water bottle. Shortly later, the bus entered a car park, and the tour guide announced, “If you need the toilets, they are right here. Five minutes later, we shall gather outside the toilets and I’ll bring you around the market.” Although Alan didn’t have to go, he still followed the advice of this guide and went just in case. The group of twenty gathered, and the guide brought the tourists to various part of the market, explaining the local foodstuffs and handicrafts along the way. Meanwhile, Alan was also mesmerized by the unique culture of the local people at the marker, they seemed so polite and courteous. At the same time, he noticed how clean the market was, and even the stalls selling meat and seafood didn’t smell at all. The guide suggested items to buy, before breaking the group for a short amount of free time. Alan purchased some local snacks and tried a fruit milkshake, which had a very interesting taste he never encountered before. And then it was almost time to proceed back to the bus. A cold breeze briefly swept over Alan, and he felt a very slight urge in his bladder, so he made another quick nip to the toilets as a precaution. He had to go through the extra layer of thick clothing just to access his privates, only to release yet another small amount of urine. Once done, he carefully packed his privates back into his snug pair of trunks, tucked the thermal short and pants back into their original positions, tucked his T-shirt back in, buttoned up his button flies, bucked up his belt tightly, and finally adjusted his tops. He looked into the mirrors and was satisfied to see a man with an immaculate look. The only thing is, Alan was not used to wearing innerwear, and repeating all the additional steps required to pee is becoming tedious.
Back on the bus, Alan felt slightly concerned over how frequently he peed even though it was only mid-morning. He knew that making too many precautionary pees have negative effects on his bladder. The bus trotted the city streets, and fifteen minutes later the bus arrived at the next destination. Alan decided to skip the toilets, preferring to head straight to the small viewing platform with the famous steam clock to maximize the amount of time at this tourist spot. Being on a hillside, the winds were strong and Alan felt chilly. Coming from an equatorial climate where it is summer all year round, where it was never necessary to wear thermals, Alan is not accustomed to this cold weather and is shivering slightly even with his inner layer and jacket. The van parked adjacent to the platform was too much to resist, and Alan purchased this expensive but much needed large cup of hot coffee, which warmed his hands and his body considerably. The platform is decorated with colourful flora, and the clock that symbolizes the city streamed as the hands struck ten. Behind the clock is a totally unobstructed view of the mountains in the distance against the backdrop of clear blue skies, which the guide said was “the place we will be visiting tomorrow”. Alan felt excited as he leaned against the railings, devouring the magnificent sights as much as he can. A short while later, he began to feel another tiny twinge in his bladder which he ignored. A couple of minutes later, he heard the voice of the tour guide: “Let’s take some group pictures before heading to the temples.” Of course, Alan would be the most dashing guy in the pictures, so why not. While standing still for the photos, he felt another twinge which he easily ignored. With the photo shoot finished, Alan headed for the toilets to answer the call of nature, where he let out yet another rather miniscule amount of urine. “Must be the cold playing tricks on my bladder,” he shrugged. Having to ensure that his privates is properly stuffed inside his ass-tight bottoms, and all the rearranging and adjustment of his layers yet again, is becoming an annoying hassle. And his fingers were getting slightly swollen for undoing and doing up his stiff button flies of his brand new jeans so many times. Alan exited the toilets to find all other members of the tour group already waiting in the tour bus. He felt embarrassed making others wait, but thankfully nobody complained.
From the steam clock to the temples was only five minutes, just across the expressway behind the hillside. Just five bloody minutes. Alan felt like an idiot for making the whole bus wait when he definitely can hold it in much longer. Upon reaching the moderately crowded temples, the group waited in the open area outside the main temple while the tour guide collected the admission tickets. While waiting, several of the tourists used the Gents and Ladies, while Alan purchased another large cup of hot coffee from a nearby stall to warm himself up. The tour guide returned, and the group followed him through the main temple followed by the two subsidiary temples. The designers of these ancient oriental temples must have paid an enormous amount of attention to the details, both inside and outside the temples. On the inside, columns, beams, statues of the local god, symmetry, everything. Outside, a large and beautiful pond sits in the middle of the three temples, elegantly painted in discreet colours. From time to time, the tour guide stopped to explain particular features along path around the pond. Halfway around the pond, Alan’s bladder started to send its first signal. However, just like everybody else in the compounds, he was in no hurry. People were taking their time strolling around the highly ornate pond, constantly stopping to view and take pictures of the gorgeous temples and their surroundings. As the tour group completed the loop, Alan’s bladder sent two or three more very gentle reminders that Alan easily disregarded. Meanwhile, Alan continued to sip water from his water while he listened attentively to the tour guide. Back at the main temple, the entire tour group gathered for a simple tea tasting session, and Alan found the tea very pleasant tasting. Seeing such beautiful integration of manmade structures and nature made Alan felt that the one hour at the temples was very well spent. Alan had thoroughly enjoyed the tour so far.
The tour guide then informed that the tour bus is now parked at a nearby location due to traffic management, then broke the group for twenty minutes of free time. Beside the entrance at the main temple, Alan saw a water fountain. Still feeling slightly thirsty, he finished the small amount of water remaining in his one-liter bottle, and refilled it. He then headed to the old street beside the main temple on his own, and strolled along the shophouses abuzz with various kinds of activities. Despite the street being fairly crowded with locals, he can’t help noticing that the entire place was spotless and litter-free. He purchased a couple of souvenirs featuring unique local crafts. Feeling slightly hungry, Alan purchased some meatballs cooked in a way he never seen before. These meatballs tasted pretty good, but were quite dry, so he ordered a cup of locally brewed tea from the adjacent shop to help him down the food. The tea tasted strong, something acceptable but strange, not a taste he really liked. To get rid of this strange taste, he sipped more water from his bottle. Then he strolled further and saw some unique and interesting mechanical puzzle games. Many tourists were trying their hands on these games. By this time, Alan felt his bladder starting to fill up, but it was no big deal. He went to try one of the games, which was easy to figure out and he won a small prize. Next, he paid money and attempted another. During the game, Alan felt another prodding from his bladder, which he simply suppressed by clenching his sphincter muscles. A couple of minutes later, he solved it and won a larger prize. These games are so addictive and Alan headed to a third puzzle. He cracked his brains for a long time, yet he could not crack the puzzle. At this time, his bladder sent another mild urge. Suddenly he realized that he had been too engrossed at the games and was already late for the tour bus. He briskly walked out of the old street, past the toilets outside the main entrance, and arrived at the bus. Everybody was already inside the bus, except for one lady who was waiting outside a public unisex toilet with a single stall. Although it would be nice to pee, his urges were mild and he wasn’t anywhere near urgent. He figured that the journey to the next place would be perhaps ten or twenty minutes, perhaps thirty minutes tops, and he could definitely hold it. With this thought, he boarded the bus, sparing himself the silliness of holding up the entire tour group yet again.
The bus departed the temples and entered the four-lane expressway. Alan absented-mindedly sipped more water from his bottle. The tour guide picked up the microphone, briefly recalled the places that they had visited earlier, and started to describe the beauty of the next location. He ended the speech with, “It is one and a half hours to the bamboo forest, so this would be a good time to take a nap.” Shit, Alan thought, as it suddenly dawned on him that he would have to endure a long and uncomfortable journey. Nevertheless, he was confident that can hold it in until the bus reached its next destination. He stared through the windows at the featureless plains, and soon it became boring. He started feeling sleepy and closed his eyes. Just as Alan was about to doze off, his bladder sent a slightly stronger reminder. Alan shifted his posture and tried again, and was rudely interrupted yet again by another mild urge as he nearly fell asleep. He simply could not relax sufficiently to take a nap. He groaned slightly, and looked into his watch. Just twenty had passed, and he could feel his bladder becoming fuller. Alan took out his mobile phone and picked a random game to pass the time. Soon there was a constant sensation in his bladder, and Alan crossed his broad legs tightly to suppress this irritance, which allowed him to continue playing his game somewhat comfortably. However, this comfort only lasted briefly, and the urges returned. Each time he responded by clamping his privates with his thighs, but soon he noticed that he was putting a substantial amount of pressure on his bladder, so he uncrossed his legs. He looked at his watch again. Only forty minutes has passed, and there’s still fifty minutes to go. His bladder was rapidly becoming full, and this is not good.
Alan understood that he didn’t have the biggest bladder in the world, but normally he can last quite a few hours between pees. He was surprised that his bladder became full to bursting in such a seemingly short amount of time, when he had earlier gone to the toilet countless times. Then he remembered that his last pee was over two hours ago, which wasn’t as short as he originally assumed. And during this period of time, he had ingested a large amount of liquids: coffees, teas, water, and other drinks he could not recall. The thought alarmed him, as another urge pulsed from his bladder. He wrongly assumed that the itinerary for the day didn’t include going to more distant locations, and he made a mistake of not going because he didn’t want to splatter over all over the toilet bowl in this extraordinary clean city, and to save himself the embarrassment of not being punctual. Alan moved his hand to his lower abdomen, and felt a swollen and bursting bladder being compressed by the very tight waistband of his crotch hugging jeans. One hour on the bus, and still half an hour more of constant clenching to endure. By this time, Alan was no longer able to concentrate on anything on his mobile phone, and was merely randomly pressing items on the screen. The urges were becoming strong, and Alan was worried that he would not be able to contain his bladder until he arrived at the bamboo forest. Alan was normally careful with planning toilet breaks, and he felt ridiculous for getting seriously caught short this time. He glanced around the bus, and saw the tour guide and all his companions sound asleep. For the time being, nobody else is aware of his predicament, but Alan was becoming increasingly desperate as the minutes slowly trickled. He could no longer sit still, rocking forwards and backwards in his seat, and his thighs were scissoring open and close. He ruffled his fingers in his hair, and adjusted his cap. The bus crossed a bridge over a river, and Alan saw the sign of the exit with the words “bamboo forest” together with its logo. According to his watch, just ten minutes more to go. But Alan’s bladder was exerting a tremendous amount of pressure, and he was applying a lot of force and straining himself to keep all the liquid in. Every bump on the road was a sharp jolt, threatening his bladder to release involuntarily. Alan had no recollection of when he had an accident, his parents said that he toilet-trained easily. Now, as a 26-year old adult, a working professional with an image to protect, he cannot just flood his pants like a small kid. And much of his attire was new, including his jacket and jeans, with the thermal innerwear bought specifically for this trip.
The bus travelled along the river, on the narrow local road with one lane in each direction. The water on the river had obvious ripples, while rows and rows of bamboo trees came into view at the other side of the road. Alan was at his limits and in agony. His sphincter muscles were becoming exhausted from the extended holding, and he felt these muscles starting to waver and losing strength. But he resolved not to wee himself. Then he saw the bus queueing behind a few cars at an intersection, and heard the message over the speakers, “we have arrived at the bamboo forest”. Finally, he can make the long awaited release that he so urgently desired. In the excitement, Alan momentarily loosened his muscles so slightly, and felt urine traveling down the pipe. His hands flew to his crotch, and he pressed his thighs together. Very close, disaster averted. But it was still an emergency. Impatiently, Alan waited for the bus to turn into the vehicle park. Just as the tour bus slowed down to a stop at a bus bay, Alan picked up his bag, stood up and crossed into the aisle. In the process, the weight of his seriously overextended bladder shifted and he felt a drop of urine seep out into his underwear. He elbowed his way past his companions, and alighted the bus just as the doors opened.
Alan frantically looked around and could not see the toilets that he so desperately wanted. A strong gust of wind blew over the area, sending leaves flying over. Alan felt a strong chill over his body, and he sensed another small leak. Instinctively, Alan’s hand grabbed his privates and his thighs pressed tightly together. No, he can’t be peeing. The tour guide alighted the tour bus, and Alan yelled out, “Where’s the Gents?” “Over there!” Alan hurried towards the visitor center in a slightly hunched posture, at the best rate while trying to avoid more accidental leakages. He was trying to maintain his grip on his privates, but frustratingly he could not properly hold through his tight jeans and thick under layer, and the grip keep slipping off. In what seemed forever, he reached the visitor center and saw the Ladies sign. Another huge wave pulsed through his trembling body, and another small spurt as he momentarily lost control a second time. Shit, shit, shit. He frantically glanced around in all directions, and finally located the Gents sign pointing behind the Ladies in the single-storey building. Already feeling damp down there, he shuffled his way into the Gents when his sphincter muscles gave way for another split second at the entrance. Alan begin working on his belt with his trembling fingers while walking towards the first urinal he could see. With his belt unbuckled with much effort, he stood in front of the urinal. His body was shaking and he struggled to open his button fly. His jeans pressed against the bulging bladder very tightly. With a lot of brute force, he managed to free the top button. Precious seconds were lost as he undid the second very stuff button. With more fumbling, the third one popped, followed by the fourth, and finally the last. In anticipation of the eventual release, his bladder suddenly let out a spurt that lasted for one second. The frightened Alan quickly pulled up his T-shirt, lowered his inner pants, got the inner shirt out of the way, and extricated his privates from his soaked trunks, which immediately gushed all the pent-up urine noisily into the porcelain. Alan tilted his head slightly backwards and let out a long sigh of relief, extremely glad that the ordeal was finally over without completely wetting himself.
“Wow, you really have to go!” That was the voice of the tour guide. Alan’s face turned beet red, and could only nod his head sheepishly. It seemed to take forever for Alan to finish voiding his bladder, but it was sheer bliss. He had no idea how long he peed, probably around one minute or so. The powerful stream eventually slowed down to a trickle and stopped. He squeezed out the final spurts from his bladder, and shook. Suddenly he noticed that his tour companions are around him, and there were other tourists queuing behind him. He became very self-conscious, so he returned his privates to its original place, and stuffed the messy layers back in as fast as he could while dispensing with his usual adjustments to his clothing, quickly washed his hands and exited feeling deeply relieved and embarrassed at the same time. Displaying such a public pee dance is already bad enough, and he simply could not let other people know that he also had a small accident in his pants, something he hadn’t done in donkey’s years. Alan was painfully aware that his crotch was saturated in urine behind his jeans, but he had to wait for another opportunity before he could check his damage.
Once everybody has gathered, the tour guide led the group into a restaurant for an hour long buffet lunch. Alan collected a plate of food, and found a table that was reserved for his group. When seated, he could feel a very sore bladder. He sneakily ran his sore fingers to his crotch when he sensed that nobody was watching, and felt a small area of dampness down there. Still feeling shameful, he wolfed down the food while avoiding eye contact with other people. Then he went for a second serving with some coffee and juices to perk himself up, and downed the contents just as quickly. Sensing that his companions are starting to leave the restaurant in groups, he stealthily slipped into a nearby toilet. He found himself a stall, and pulled down all his bottom layers and sat down on the toilet bowl. While taking his usual post-lunch dump, he was amazed that he still peed a substantial amount. He took the chance to inspect his layers, and was dismayed to find that his favourite pair of trunks was ruined with a wet patch slightly larger than a golf ball. However, his thick thermal innerwear absorbed a good portion of the urine, so very fortunately his indiscretion was limited to a coin-sized wet spot on his jeans, right at the center of the crotch where the four seams joined together. He was also extremely appreciative that his brand new jeans still had a very dark shade of black, which means that the wetness was essentially invisible unless someone looked at his crotch very closely. As he had no spare underwear, for the next fifteen minutes, he applied loads of toilet paper to squeeze out the pee from his under layers as best as he could. He wiped himself clean, and pulled up his bottoms. In the dry and windy air, he could feel his innerwear starting to dry. Alan had regained his composure, and slowly and carefully rearranged and readjusted his clothes, buttoning up his fly and buckling up his belt tightly. The process no longer felt cumbersome, and Alan believed that most likely his companions were none the wiser. While washing his hands, he again saw an immaculately neat young man in the mirror. Alan felt more confident as he walked out of the toilet.
Outside the restaurant, Alan found his companions lingering at a viewing platform. It offered stunning views of the bamboo forest, with a small gorge and a river running below. The tour guide briefly pulled Alan apart, and asked whether he is okay. Alan blushed and simply said yes. Then he apologized for not ensuring that Alan had received a reminder to use the toilets before embarking on the longer bus journey. Alan was surprised at this apology, and immediately felt better. The tour group spent the entire afternoon at the bamboo forest, a huge tourist attraction demonstrating how human culture can be interwoven so tastefully with nature. In the mid-afternoon, Alan took care to use the toilets again, and found that his trunks and thermals have pretty much dried up. The whole tour group was treated with beautiful landforms, huts and bridges, blossoming flowers of various varieties, and even a small waterfall that looked like a painting, all the time with tall green bamboos lining up the hills wherever they existed. After the evening sun descended below the glowing red horizon, with the magnificent bamboos as the backdrop, the group consumed a sumptuous seafood dinner in the same restaurant. Alan felt that he wanted to spend more time at the bamboo forests. Before boarding the bus for the one and a half hour journey back to the city, he made sure he peed again. Back in his hotel room, Alan stripped out of his clothes and showered. Although his bottoms had no stains and it didn’t smell, he felt disgusted wearing them again without washing. Being salvageable, Alan sent all of them out for laundry service, which returned to his room cleaned and freshly ironed by the next morning.
The remainder of his week long trip was just as good, if not even better. The spring weather was unusually cooperative, as it almost never rained at the locations when the tour group was visiting. Each morning, Alan clarified with the tour guide when the long journeys will occur, and meticulously planned his toilet breaks along the route to achieve an optimum frequency. He was able to consume liquids normally without much restrictions, and he had no further pee emergencies in the rest of the trip. Throughout the trip, his friendly companions didn’t embarrass him further by bringing up the topic. Overall, Alan enjoyed the trip tremendously. He liked it so much to post positive reviews, and would recommend it to his friends when asked. It was very memorable with great sights and culture, made even more so with a big personal secret: his first accidental wetting as an adult, a near catastrophe that nobody except for himself knew.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License:
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/
* * *
GUIDED TOUR
By googlism2008
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It was the second day of the guided tour, and Alan woke up fresh. The continental breakfast at the hotel was good. The morning sky is bright, and the spring weather was fine. Prior to boarding the tour bus, Alan decided to pay a visit to the Gents. As expected, only a wee bit of urine was released, since he already had his morning pee in his hotel room before having his breakfast. With that, he is all set for the tour of the day, which he vaguely remembered as starting off with locations dotted in and around the city. Alan is looking forward for another great day in this tour.
Being 26, Alan was the youngest in the tour group. He had a build that is stocky but otherwise very balanced, fair skin and a pimpleless face. Alan was wearing a dark yellow jacket over a white printed long tee, tucked neatly inside a pair of black tight-fitting slim cut jeans, held together by a fashionable brown belt, sporting an average sized package for his build which he didn’t mind showing. With a cap over his curly hair, a pair of trendy sports shoes, and a small simple navy blue backpack to go along, Alan must be the most handsome guy in the group. The tour group had flown in from his home country on the previous day, and he had joined the group as an individual, which meant that everyone else were strangers. Fortunately, the tour group appeared friendly, and the introverted Alan he settled in quickly. Half an hour later, the bus arrived at a memorial park. The bus parked right next to the toilets, and Alan paid another precautionary visit to the urinals out of habit. Despite being in the middle of the city, the garden was quite large. After a brief walk around the park, he sat down and lazed on the nicely turfed grass. The structures of the war memorial rise spectacularly over the small rolling hills, and together with the blooming trees and blossoming flowers, made for a very pleasant scenery. Not being a historical buff, Alan didn’t care much of the historical significance of the war, but nonetheless he loved the view of the very well maintained garden. Soon, the allotted thirty minutes was up. Not being sure of how long he would be on the road, he made another tiny tinkle and boarded the 25-seater tour bus. The bus looked rather luxurious, with wide seats and lots of legroom, so Alan was very comfortable on the bus.
The tour guide continued his introduction of the city while Alan sipped from his water bottle. Shortly later, the bus entered a car park, and the tour guide announced, “If you need the toilets, they are right here. Five minutes later, we shall gather outside the toilets and I’ll bring you around the market.” Although Alan didn’t have to go, he still followed the advice of this guide and went just in case. The group of twenty gathered, and the guide brought the tourists to various part of the market, explaining the local foodstuffs and handicrafts along the way. Meanwhile, Alan was also mesmerized by the unique culture of the local people at the marker, they seemed so polite and courteous. At the same time, he noticed how clean the market was, and even the stalls selling meat and seafood didn’t smell at all. The guide suggested items to buy, before breaking the group for a short amount of free time. Alan purchased some local snacks and tried a fruit milkshake, which had a very interesting taste he never encountered before. And then it was almost time to proceed back to the bus. A cold breeze briefly swept over Alan, and he felt a very slight urge in his bladder, so he made another quick nip to the toilets as a precaution. He had to go through the extra layer of thick clothing just to access his privates, only to release yet another small amount of urine. Once done, he carefully packed his privates back into his snug pair of trunks, tucked the thermal short and pants back into their original positions, tucked his T-shirt back in, buttoned up his button flies, bucked up his belt tightly, and finally adjusted his tops. He looked into the mirrors and was satisfied to see a man with an immaculate look. The only thing is, Alan was not used to wearing innerwear, and repeating all the additional steps required to pee is becoming tedious.
Back on the bus, Alan felt slightly concerned over how frequently he peed even though it was only mid-morning. He knew that making too many precautionary pees have negative effects on his bladder. The bus trotted the city streets, and fifteen minutes later the bus arrived at the next destination. Alan decided to skip the toilets, preferring to head straight to the small viewing platform with the famous steam clock to maximize the amount of time at this tourist spot. Being on a hillside, the winds were strong and Alan felt chilly. Coming from an equatorial climate where it is summer all year round, where it was never necessary to wear thermals, Alan is not accustomed to this cold weather and is shivering slightly even with his inner layer and jacket. The van parked adjacent to the platform was too much to resist, and Alan purchased this expensive but much needed large cup of hot coffee, which warmed his hands and his body considerably. The platform is decorated with colourful flora, and the clock that symbolizes the city streamed as the hands struck ten. Behind the clock is a totally unobstructed view of the mountains in the distance against the backdrop of clear blue skies, which the guide said was “the place we will be visiting tomorrow”. Alan felt excited as he leaned against the railings, devouring the magnificent sights as much as he can. A short while later, he began to feel another tiny twinge in his bladder which he ignored. A couple of minutes later, he heard the voice of the tour guide: “Let’s take some group pictures before heading to the temples.” Of course, Alan would be the most dashing guy in the pictures, so why not. While standing still for the photos, he felt another twinge which he easily ignored. With the photo shoot finished, Alan headed for the toilets to answer the call of nature, where he let out yet another rather miniscule amount of urine. “Must be the cold playing tricks on my bladder,” he shrugged. Having to ensure that his privates is properly stuffed inside his ass-tight bottoms, and all the rearranging and adjustment of his layers yet again, is becoming an annoying hassle. And his fingers were getting slightly swollen for undoing and doing up his stiff button flies of his brand new jeans so many times. Alan exited the toilets to find all other members of the tour group already waiting in the tour bus. He felt embarrassed making others wait, but thankfully nobody complained.
From the steam clock to the temples was only five minutes, just across the expressway behind the hillside. Just five bloody minutes. Alan felt like an idiot for making the whole bus wait when he definitely can hold it in much longer. Upon reaching the moderately crowded temples, the group waited in the open area outside the main temple while the tour guide collected the admission tickets. While waiting, several of the tourists used the Gents and Ladies, while Alan purchased another large cup of hot coffee from a nearby stall to warm himself up. The tour guide returned, and the group followed him through the main temple followed by the two subsidiary temples. The designers of these ancient oriental temples must have paid an enormous amount of attention to the details, both inside and outside the temples. On the inside, columns, beams, statues of the local god, symmetry, everything. Outside, a large and beautiful pond sits in the middle of the three temples, elegantly painted in discreet colours. From time to time, the tour guide stopped to explain particular features along path around the pond. Halfway around the pond, Alan’s bladder started to send its first signal. However, just like everybody else in the compounds, he was in no hurry. People were taking their time strolling around the highly ornate pond, constantly stopping to view and take pictures of the gorgeous temples and their surroundings. As the tour group completed the loop, Alan’s bladder sent two or three more very gentle reminders that Alan easily disregarded. Meanwhile, Alan continued to sip water from his water while he listened attentively to the tour guide. Back at the main temple, the entire tour group gathered for a simple tea tasting session, and Alan found the tea very pleasant tasting. Seeing such beautiful integration of manmade structures and nature made Alan felt that the one hour at the temples was very well spent. Alan had thoroughly enjoyed the tour so far.
The tour guide then informed that the tour bus is now parked at a nearby location due to traffic management, then broke the group for twenty minutes of free time. Beside the entrance at the main temple, Alan saw a water fountain. Still feeling slightly thirsty, he finished the small amount of water remaining in his one-liter bottle, and refilled it. He then headed to the old street beside the main temple on his own, and strolled along the shophouses abuzz with various kinds of activities. Despite the street being fairly crowded with locals, he can’t help noticing that the entire place was spotless and litter-free. He purchased a couple of souvenirs featuring unique local crafts. Feeling slightly hungry, Alan purchased some meatballs cooked in a way he never seen before. These meatballs tasted pretty good, but were quite dry, so he ordered a cup of locally brewed tea from the adjacent shop to help him down the food. The tea tasted strong, something acceptable but strange, not a taste he really liked. To get rid of this strange taste, he sipped more water from his bottle. Then he strolled further and saw some unique and interesting mechanical puzzle games. Many tourists were trying their hands on these games. By this time, Alan felt his bladder starting to fill up, but it was no big deal. He went to try one of the games, which was easy to figure out and he won a small prize. Next, he paid money and attempted another. During the game, Alan felt another prodding from his bladder, which he simply suppressed by clenching his sphincter muscles. A couple of minutes later, he solved it and won a larger prize. These games are so addictive and Alan headed to a third puzzle. He cracked his brains for a long time, yet he could not crack the puzzle. At this time, his bladder sent another mild urge. Suddenly he realized that he had been too engrossed at the games and was already late for the tour bus. He briskly walked out of the old street, past the toilets outside the main entrance, and arrived at the bus. Everybody was already inside the bus, except for one lady who was waiting outside a public unisex toilet with a single stall. Although it would be nice to pee, his urges were mild and he wasn’t anywhere near urgent. He figured that the journey to the next place would be perhaps ten or twenty minutes, perhaps thirty minutes tops, and he could definitely hold it. With this thought, he boarded the bus, sparing himself the silliness of holding up the entire tour group yet again.
The bus departed the temples and entered the four-lane expressway. Alan absented-mindedly sipped more water from his bottle. The tour guide picked up the microphone, briefly recalled the places that they had visited earlier, and started to describe the beauty of the next location. He ended the speech with, “It is one and a half hours to the bamboo forest, so this would be a good time to take a nap.” Shit, Alan thought, as it suddenly dawned on him that he would have to endure a long and uncomfortable journey. Nevertheless, he was confident that can hold it in until the bus reached its next destination. He stared through the windows at the featureless plains, and soon it became boring. He started feeling sleepy and closed his eyes. Just as Alan was about to doze off, his bladder sent a slightly stronger reminder. Alan shifted his posture and tried again, and was rudely interrupted yet again by another mild urge as he nearly fell asleep. He simply could not relax sufficiently to take a nap. He groaned slightly, and looked into his watch. Just twenty had passed, and he could feel his bladder becoming fuller. Alan took out his mobile phone and picked a random game to pass the time. Soon there was a constant sensation in his bladder, and Alan crossed his broad legs tightly to suppress this irritance, which allowed him to continue playing his game somewhat comfortably. However, this comfort only lasted briefly, and the urges returned. Each time he responded by clamping his privates with his thighs, but soon he noticed that he was putting a substantial amount of pressure on his bladder, so he uncrossed his legs. He looked at his watch again. Only forty minutes has passed, and there’s still fifty minutes to go. His bladder was rapidly becoming full, and this is not good.
Alan understood that he didn’t have the biggest bladder in the world, but normally he can last quite a few hours between pees. He was surprised that his bladder became full to bursting in such a seemingly short amount of time, when he had earlier gone to the toilet countless times. Then he remembered that his last pee was over two hours ago, which wasn’t as short as he originally assumed. And during this period of time, he had ingested a large amount of liquids: coffees, teas, water, and other drinks he could not recall. The thought alarmed him, as another urge pulsed from his bladder. He wrongly assumed that the itinerary for the day didn’t include going to more distant locations, and he made a mistake of not going because he didn’t want to splatter over all over the toilet bowl in this extraordinary clean city, and to save himself the embarrassment of not being punctual. Alan moved his hand to his lower abdomen, and felt a swollen and bursting bladder being compressed by the very tight waistband of his crotch hugging jeans. One hour on the bus, and still half an hour more of constant clenching to endure. By this time, Alan was no longer able to concentrate on anything on his mobile phone, and was merely randomly pressing items on the screen. The urges were becoming strong, and Alan was worried that he would not be able to contain his bladder until he arrived at the bamboo forest. Alan was normally careful with planning toilet breaks, and he felt ridiculous for getting seriously caught short this time. He glanced around the bus, and saw the tour guide and all his companions sound asleep. For the time being, nobody else is aware of his predicament, but Alan was becoming increasingly desperate as the minutes slowly trickled. He could no longer sit still, rocking forwards and backwards in his seat, and his thighs were scissoring open and close. He ruffled his fingers in his hair, and adjusted his cap. The bus crossed a bridge over a river, and Alan saw the sign of the exit with the words “bamboo forest” together with its logo. According to his watch, just ten minutes more to go. But Alan’s bladder was exerting a tremendous amount of pressure, and he was applying a lot of force and straining himself to keep all the liquid in. Every bump on the road was a sharp jolt, threatening his bladder to release involuntarily. Alan had no recollection of when he had an accident, his parents said that he toilet-trained easily. Now, as a 26-year old adult, a working professional with an image to protect, he cannot just flood his pants like a small kid. And much of his attire was new, including his jacket and jeans, with the thermal innerwear bought specifically for this trip.
The bus travelled along the river, on the narrow local road with one lane in each direction. The water on the river had obvious ripples, while rows and rows of bamboo trees came into view at the other side of the road. Alan was at his limits and in agony. His sphincter muscles were becoming exhausted from the extended holding, and he felt these muscles starting to waver and losing strength. But he resolved not to wee himself. Then he saw the bus queueing behind a few cars at an intersection, and heard the message over the speakers, “we have arrived at the bamboo forest”. Finally, he can make the long awaited release that he so urgently desired. In the excitement, Alan momentarily loosened his muscles so slightly, and felt urine traveling down the pipe. His hands flew to his crotch, and he pressed his thighs together. Very close, disaster averted. But it was still an emergency. Impatiently, Alan waited for the bus to turn into the vehicle park. Just as the tour bus slowed down to a stop at a bus bay, Alan picked up his bag, stood up and crossed into the aisle. In the process, the weight of his seriously overextended bladder shifted and he felt a drop of urine seep out into his underwear. He elbowed his way past his companions, and alighted the bus just as the doors opened.
Alan frantically looked around and could not see the toilets that he so desperately wanted. A strong gust of wind blew over the area, sending leaves flying over. Alan felt a strong chill over his body, and he sensed another small leak. Instinctively, Alan’s hand grabbed his privates and his thighs pressed tightly together. No, he can’t be peeing. The tour guide alighted the tour bus, and Alan yelled out, “Where’s the Gents?” “Over there!” Alan hurried towards the visitor center in a slightly hunched posture, at the best rate while trying to avoid more accidental leakages. He was trying to maintain his grip on his privates, but frustratingly he could not properly hold through his tight jeans and thick under layer, and the grip keep slipping off. In what seemed forever, he reached the visitor center and saw the Ladies sign. Another huge wave pulsed through his trembling body, and another small spurt as he momentarily lost control a second time. Shit, shit, shit. He frantically glanced around in all directions, and finally located the Gents sign pointing behind the Ladies in the single-storey building. Already feeling damp down there, he shuffled his way into the Gents when his sphincter muscles gave way for another split second at the entrance. Alan begin working on his belt with his trembling fingers while walking towards the first urinal he could see. With his belt unbuckled with much effort, he stood in front of the urinal. His body was shaking and he struggled to open his button fly. His jeans pressed against the bulging bladder very tightly. With a lot of brute force, he managed to free the top button. Precious seconds were lost as he undid the second very stuff button. With more fumbling, the third one popped, followed by the fourth, and finally the last. In anticipation of the eventual release, his bladder suddenly let out a spurt that lasted for one second. The frightened Alan quickly pulled up his T-shirt, lowered his inner pants, got the inner shirt out of the way, and extricated his privates from his soaked trunks, which immediately gushed all the pent-up urine noisily into the porcelain. Alan tilted his head slightly backwards and let out a long sigh of relief, extremely glad that the ordeal was finally over without completely wetting himself.
“Wow, you really have to go!” That was the voice of the tour guide. Alan’s face turned beet red, and could only nod his head sheepishly. It seemed to take forever for Alan to finish voiding his bladder, but it was sheer bliss. He had no idea how long he peed, probably around one minute or so. The powerful stream eventually slowed down to a trickle and stopped. He squeezed out the final spurts from his bladder, and shook. Suddenly he noticed that his tour companions are around him, and there were other tourists queuing behind him. He became very self-conscious, so he returned his privates to its original place, and stuffed the messy layers back in as fast as he could while dispensing with his usual adjustments to his clothing, quickly washed his hands and exited feeling deeply relieved and embarrassed at the same time. Displaying such a public pee dance is already bad enough, and he simply could not let other people know that he also had a small accident in his pants, something he hadn’t done in donkey’s years. Alan was painfully aware that his crotch was saturated in urine behind his jeans, but he had to wait for another opportunity before he could check his damage.
Once everybody has gathered, the tour guide led the group into a restaurant for an hour long buffet lunch. Alan collected a plate of food, and found a table that was reserved for his group. When seated, he could feel a very sore bladder. He sneakily ran his sore fingers to his crotch when he sensed that nobody was watching, and felt a small area of dampness down there. Still feeling shameful, he wolfed down the food while avoiding eye contact with other people. Then he went for a second serving with some coffee and juices to perk himself up, and downed the contents just as quickly. Sensing that his companions are starting to leave the restaurant in groups, he stealthily slipped into a nearby toilet. He found himself a stall, and pulled down all his bottom layers and sat down on the toilet bowl. While taking his usual post-lunch dump, he was amazed that he still peed a substantial amount. He took the chance to inspect his layers, and was dismayed to find that his favourite pair of trunks was ruined with a wet patch slightly larger than a golf ball. However, his thick thermal innerwear absorbed a good portion of the urine, so very fortunately his indiscretion was limited to a coin-sized wet spot on his jeans, right at the center of the crotch where the four seams joined together. He was also extremely appreciative that his brand new jeans still had a very dark shade of black, which means that the wetness was essentially invisible unless someone looked at his crotch very closely. As he had no spare underwear, for the next fifteen minutes, he applied loads of toilet paper to squeeze out the pee from his under layers as best as he could. He wiped himself clean, and pulled up his bottoms. In the dry and windy air, he could feel his innerwear starting to dry. Alan had regained his composure, and slowly and carefully rearranged and readjusted his clothes, buttoning up his fly and buckling up his belt tightly. The process no longer felt cumbersome, and Alan believed that most likely his companions were none the wiser. While washing his hands, he again saw an immaculately neat young man in the mirror. Alan felt more confident as he walked out of the toilet.
Outside the restaurant, Alan found his companions lingering at a viewing platform. It offered stunning views of the bamboo forest, with a small gorge and a river running below. The tour guide briefly pulled Alan apart, and asked whether he is okay. Alan blushed and simply said yes. Then he apologized for not ensuring that Alan had received a reminder to use the toilets before embarking on the longer bus journey. Alan was surprised at this apology, and immediately felt better. The tour group spent the entire afternoon at the bamboo forest, a huge tourist attraction demonstrating how human culture can be interwoven so tastefully with nature. In the mid-afternoon, Alan took care to use the toilets again, and found that his trunks and thermals have pretty much dried up. The whole tour group was treated with beautiful landforms, huts and bridges, blossoming flowers of various varieties, and even a small waterfall that looked like a painting, all the time with tall green bamboos lining up the hills wherever they existed. After the evening sun descended below the glowing red horizon, with the magnificent bamboos as the backdrop, the group consumed a sumptuous seafood dinner in the same restaurant. Alan felt that he wanted to spend more time at the bamboo forests. Before boarding the bus for the one and a half hour journey back to the city, he made sure he peed again. Back in his hotel room, Alan stripped out of his clothes and showered. Although his bottoms had no stains and it didn’t smell, he felt disgusted wearing them again without washing. Being salvageable, Alan sent all of them out for laundry service, which returned to his room cleaned and freshly ironed by the next morning.
The remainder of his week long trip was just as good, if not even better. The spring weather was unusually cooperative, as it almost never rained at the locations when the tour group was visiting. Each morning, Alan clarified with the tour guide when the long journeys will occur, and meticulously planned his toilet breaks along the route to achieve an optimum frequency. He was able to consume liquids normally without much restrictions, and he had no further pee emergencies in the rest of the trip. Throughout the trip, his friendly companions didn’t embarrass him further by bringing up the topic. Overall, Alan enjoyed the trip tremendously. He liked it so much to post positive reviews, and would recommend it to his friends when asked. It was very memorable with great sights and culture, made even more so with a big personal secret: his first accidental wetting as an adult, a near catastrophe that nobody except for himself knew.
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