The train wound its way through the mountains, its chassis gleaming under the full moon. On board, Kayla squirmed and fidgeted, unable to sleep. She’d been on the train for almost ten hours now, and despite being less than halfway back to Seattle from where she’d boarded in Los Angeles, as she slouched in her seat she found herself regretting her decision not to simply fly home. The train car was stuffy and unventilated, the wifi had stopped working an hour prior, and the white linoleum floors beneath the seats were uniformly sticky in a way that Kayla couldn’t help but find a bit disconcerting. Glumly, she scanned the train car for the dozenth time in search of something – anything – to break up the monotony of the journey. Nothing. Apart from half a dozen or so other passengers, most of whom appeared to be fast asleep, the compartment was blank and featureless, more or less identical to every other one she’d seen before. The seats, made of plush, cream-coloured fabric, were arranged in groups of four; this meant that on her side of the aisle, Kayla had a vacant seat next to her as well as two more facing her, both of which were empty as well. At least she had some space to herself, she thought, rather than having to spend thirty hours fighting over leg room with strangers. Wriggling in her seat, she instinctively stuck a hand between her legs and glanced over at the door to the train car’s only toilet, which for the past twenty minutes had been occupied by the overly affectionate couple across the aisle from her. The rhythmic thumping and barely-stifled moans emanating from within told her all she needed to know; it would almost certainly be a while before she’d have any chance of getting in there. Kayla’s bladder, stretched and swollen, ached in silent protest. This was not ideal. Why the hell hadn’t she just flown home?
The feeling of needing so badly to relieve herself triggered a moment of deja vu, and after a moment Kayla realized why; she’d found herself in similarly dire straits about 6 months prior, when a seemingly innocent trip to a department store near her house had taken an alarming turn. Despite unintentionally arriving at the store in a state of utter desperation – in truth, not much different from how she felt now – she’d been overtaken by an even stronger urge to get her rocks off, and had ducked into a vacant fitting room to attend to her needs. Alone in the tiny cubicle and sensing that time was of the essence, she’d furiously gone to work, frantically fucking herself with slippery fingers while trying as hard as she could not to think about how close she was to pissing right where she sat. While her efforts had ultimately been worth it – punctuated by the spurting river of cum that had sluiced out of her slick, swollen pussy onto the carpet – Kayla’s impulsivity that day had not gone unpunished. As she’d sat there recovering in the fitting room, her stretched and tortured bladder had finally given way. She’d barely had time to heave her legs to the sides before a massive geyser of piss had pushed apart her slippery, sodden pussy lips, washing noisily and generously across the carpeted floor for nearly ten full seconds before she’d finally been able to staunch the flow. Thinking back on it now, Kayla’s cheeks reddened as the memory replayed itself in agonizing detail. To think that she’d pissed all over the floor of a public fitting room of all places, the once-pristine white carpet turning a deep yellow as it tried unsuccessfully to absorb the hot jet of urine spraying out of her, seemed absolutely crazy. Crazier still, she’d helplessly pissed so much with her initial salvo, and still needed to go so badly after forcing herself to stop, that she’d decided to just admit defeat and finish relieving herself right there. Pulling her panties to the side and spreading her hairy cunt open, she’d shuddered and released a second, impossibly thick waterfall of pee there in the fitting room, gasping with satisfaction as she violently emptied her bladder against the wall and floor. She’d barely managed to stifle a groan of ecstasy as she’d pushed and grunted, the wet hissing sound of her seemingly endless piss deafening in the relative silence as it foamed against the carpet and pooled in all directions. When all was said and done, the tiny cubicle had been completely soaked in a hot, raging river of Kayla’s urine, and she’d hurried out of the store before the attendant could take note of the frothy pool of piss spreading rapidly out across the floor from the fitting room doorway.
Embarrassing though the experience had been, Kayla couldn’t help but think back on the whole thing with a tinge of satisfaction. Just picturing the orgasm she’d had, in all its explosive perfection, sent a shiver through her pussy, and as she sat there in her seat Kayla realized that a bit of self-love to pass the time might not be such a bad idea. Her bladder was full to the point of bursting, sure, but what could she do? With any luck the two lovebirds in the bathroom would be out soon, and in the meantime, her hairy, throbbing cunt, bulging against the sheer material of her leggings, seemed as good a distraction as any. Splaying her knees apart, she reached down with one had to massage the cum-slicked fabric stretched across her heaving, distended pussy lips, and in an instant – before she even had time to realize what was happening – she’d loudly ripped the dripping crotch of her leggings open and pulled her panties to the side. Her cum-slicked pussy, deep red and glistening in the low light of the train car, bulged wetly outward, and Kayla wasted no time plunging a pair of eager fingers into the slippery mess within, her hips bucking with satisfaction as she found her target. Her bladder, heavy and aching though it was, would just have to wait; she’d found more important matters to attend to.
Lost in ecstasy, Kayla almost didn’t notice the gentle rustling of someone making their way down the aisle of the train car toward her. Inhaling sharply, her heart in her throat, she clamped her legs shut, obscuring the view of her glistening twat for whomever was coming, and pretended to be asleep. Opening her eyes a crack, she saw the slender figure of a young woman come into view, hobbling gingerly down the aisle toward Kayla’s end of the car – and the still-occupied toilet. The woman couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, with perky breasts hidden beneath a short, light blue cotton dress. She was, Kayla noted, quite beautiful, with big eyes, dirty blond hair down to her shoulders, and a smattering of freckles across her tanned cheeks. At the moment, though, her pretty face was contorted into an expression that could only be described as panicked, and as she waddled determinedly toward the bathroom, one hand clutching her bulging abdomen, Kayla knew exactly what was happening. This was the unmistakable body language of someone struggling with every fibre of their being to stop themselves from taking a massive piss right where they stood. Again, Kayla’s mind found its way back to the department store fitting room in which she’d helplessly relieved herself six months earlier. If this young woman’s situation was as dire as it appeared, she knew from experience that there wasn’t much time left at all.
Arriving at the bathroom, the young woman tried the door only to find it locked. Doubling over, she knocked three times in quick succession – the knock of a desperate person if ever there was one. She jumped as someone on the other side – evidently one of the lovebirds – pounded angrily back in response. This, too, rung true to Kayla as a universally recognizable sign: the bathroom is occupied. Fuck off. Seeming to get the message, the young woman’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and she began to hobble back down the aisle toward her seat. She’d barely made it a few feet, however, before she froze. In the stuffy silence of the train car, Kayla could have sworn that she heard a faint, muffled hissing sound. Doubling over once again, the young woman let out a tortured whimper, then frantically hiked up her dress and tore what must have now been a soaked pair of panties to the side, inadvertently giving Kayla an unobstructed view as she unleashed the wet, glistening lips of her unshaved pussy. She had passed the point of no return, and – as Kayla looked on in astonishment – she could only spread her ass and leaking cunt apart with both hands, aim her now-uncontrollably spurting urethra downward, and grunt slightly as she pushed out a thick jet of piss, spraying it copiously against the linoleum floor with a relieved gasp.
Kayla could barely believe what she was seeing, and yet – perhaps more than anyone – she appreciated exactly what the unceremoniously peeing young woman in front of her was going through. At least she’d been granted the relative seclusion of a fitting room, where she’d been able to empty her bladder absolutely everywhere without much fear of being caught. The enormous puddle she’d left spreading across the floor had only been as large as it was because she’d had the privacy she’d needed to push out every last spurt of urine from her exhausted cunt onto the saturated carpet, shuddering with relief as she’d leaned back and revelled in the feeling of emptying herself. The woman on the train, now deep in the throes of releasing what must have been the most desperate piss of her life, did not appear to have been so lucky, squatting slightly as she peed uncontrollably into a frothy, rapidly growing yellow puddle right in the middle of the aisle. From Kayla’s vantage point, she could just make out a little river of urine diverging from the main stream as it jetted forcefully out of the woman’s heaving pussy, running backwards across her taint to finally pour off her asshole onto the floor. Any pretense of public decency or decorum, it seemed, had vanished; despite her own wealth of experience, Kayla had never seen anyone pee so forcefully or copiously, and yet here this young woman was, lost in what must have been a combination of panic and intense relief, as she pissed a thick stream onto the now-flooded linoleum.
Extraordinary though the sight was, Kayla was surprised to see the woman somehow clamp down on her exhausted bladder muscles after only a few moments of relief, cutting off her piss stream completely. Still breathing heavily, she seemed in that instant to suddenly remember where she was and what she had just done, looking wide-eyed around the train car before staring down in obvious horror at the massive puddle of piss spreading around her shoes. Even as she gawked at the ridiculous mess she’d made, however, the young woman’s legs remained tightly clamped together, her hand stuffed into her crotch. She was far from finished, Kayla realized, and was once again faced with the fact that she had nowhere to go. Her eyes frantically scanned their end of the train compartment, looking for something into which to empty her groaning bladder, but to no avail. As Kayla had noted earlier, there wasn’t so much as an empty water bottle in sight which might have sufficed in an emergency as a substitute toilet. Her will now obviously broken, the young woman stifled a whimper before moving quickly toward what just so happened to be the only spot available to her: the empty berth of seats belonging to the couple in the bathroom. Though Kayla couldn’t be sure whether the woman even knew whose seats these were, it seemed only fair that – if her bladder needed to be emptied – this should be the spot. Heaving herself into one of the plush chairs nearest the window and still breathing hard, the young woman didn’t even have time to finish spreading her legs before a thick jet of urine hissed loudly against the crotch of her ruined panties, turning the white fabric yellow as it gushed out onto the seat. Grunting and gasping, the woman pulled the sopping fabric to the side, releasing a fat torrent of piss which easily cleared the space between her seat and the one opposite. There it found its mark, foaming noisily against the plush fabric of the seat back before coursing down over the material to form a growing yellow puddle on the seat itself.
Again, Kayla felt her jaw drop as she watched the scene unfold. How much piss could one woman’s bladder possibly contain? Ten seconds later, the apparently superhuman young woman showed no signs of stopping; the seat onto which she’d been copiously relieving herself, however, had become saturated, and piss had begun to cascade off of it onto the floor. Noticing this, and clearly nowhere close to empty, the woman simply scooted forward, allowing her jet of pee to spray forcefully onto the floor between her feet. Finally free to piss until she’d emptied herself completely, her face took on an almost serene expression, and for the first time in a good few minutes Kayla was reminded that she longed for exactly the same kind of relief. After another ten seconds or so, the young woman was finished at last. Pushing out the last few lengthy spurts of piss from her trembling cunt, she groaned and lay back in her seat, satisfied. Then, with one last incredulous glance at the seat and floor she’d destroyed, she stood up and shakily made her way back down the aisle toward her seat. Behind her, the aisle and berth of seats she’d just left were covered in the evidence of what she’d just done. A puddle of piss at least 4 feet wide, frothy and still spreading, covered the floor, reaching almost to Kayla’s berth of seats. Both the seat the woman had sat in and the one opposite were completely saturated, little yellow streams still trickling off their corners onto the floor.
Huddled in her seat, Kayla struggled to process what had just happened. All of it had been so weirdly familiar, and yet to actually see it – watch a woman not so different from herself lose control and take a massive, desperate piss on the floor – was something else. Finally alone again, she instinctively rubbed a hand over her still-slippery pussy and contemplated her own predicament. Watching the woman relieve herself had reminded her how badly she needed to go, and to top it all off she’d been interrupted mid-finger fuck and still yearned for the waiting orgasm she’d been denied. What the fuck was she going to do?
As if on cue, a loud moan from the bathroom – and the people responsible for this whole mess – gave her a wicked idea. In that moment, she knew exactly what needed to happen. Desperate to both cum and piss, she knew she finally needed to let it all out – just not on her own seat. In one quick movement she crossed the sodden aisle and plunked down on the seat beside the one her female companion had occupied only a minute earlier, spreading her legs and exposing her swollen pussy once more. Clamping her peehole closed with all her might, she plunged a pair of fingers back into her engorged cunt, knowing that every stroke brought her closer to the inevitable. Within only a few seconds, though, she could feel the orgasm coming, and leaned into it as her dripping fingers found their mark. Stuffing the sleeve of her sweater into her mouth to keep from screaming, she felt the shockwaves of an impending climax take control of all bodily functions, and as the orgasm ripped through her body she felt the first hot gushes of urine spray hard against her fingers. Looking down, chest heaving and blood pounding as she frantically fucked herself, Kayla watched helplessly as warm piss spurted onto her hand in short jets, hissing out past her fingers each time she pulled them out of her sopping pussy and stopping as she plunged them back in again. Her bulging bladder had apparently decided to empty itself just as she’d begun to cum, and at this point, as warm piss mixed with the slippery cum on her fingers and splattered in generous streams to the floor, there was nothing she could do but accept it. As the last waves of her orgasm ebbed through her, Kayla felt herself begin to piss in earnest and knew it couldn’t be stopped. Slumping exhausted in the chair, she pulled her fingers out of her spurting cunt and exhaled with long-awaited relief as a thick yellow waterfall of urine gushed out of her, splashing noisily to the floor as it merged with the enormous puddle already covering the linoleum. Knowing she was now committed, Kayla pushed and began to piss even harder, gasping as her face reddened with the effort. Her red, bulging twat gaped open as the fat jet of urine spraying out of it widened, hosing down the floor in a frothy torrent. Looking down at the rippling yellow puddle foaming around her feet, Kayla realized that it was now so huge that it had begun to pool under the door to the bathroom, which given its occupants could soon be a cause for concern. In that moment, the only thing she could think to do was sit back in her plush seat as she continued to piss as hard as she could, her hot urine hissing noisily against the pale fabric as it pooled around her bare pussy and ass. Kayla closed her eyes, lost in ecstasy as she blissfully finished relieving herself into the seat. Finally, inching forward, she groaned and pushed out one last generous, gushing spurt of pee onto the floor before tiptoeing back through the foamy yellow pool submerging her end of the train compartment.
Flopping down in her own decidedly dry seat, Kayla glanced across the aisle and took stock. Together, it seemed as though she and her pretty companion had managed to empty their aching bladders all over absolutely every surface at that end of the train compartment; the massive puddle of piss on the floor, still spreading as bubbles floated across its surface, had now expanded all the way across the aisle, reaching almost to Kayla’s feet. The berth of seats belonging to the couple in the bathroom was soaked, three of the four seats glistening in the light as they struggled to contain two overfilled bladders’ worth of urine. They’d have quite the shock when they finally deigned to emerge, whenever that actually happened. Kayla shuddered with satisfaction, and – after one last look at the lake she’d created, turned over and pulled her jacket around her shoulders, closing her eyes. She’d never felt so relieved, nor so thoroughly satisfied. This was starting to become a habit, she thought as first tendrils of sleep overtook her. Guess it was only a matter of time before it happened again.