The International Beverage Fair

LICENSING.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License:
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

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THE INTERNATIONAL BEVERAGE FAIR
By googlism2008

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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.