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Desperation, Male, Locked Out

 

Why the fuck is there so much traffic? Thomas had already been practically sitting in the same place for 10 minutes. This normally wouldn’t bother him too much, but his bladder was screaming to be emptied. His dumbass had drank nearly 3 cups of coffee without going to the bathroom once, and being the dehydrated, small-bladdered guy he was, that was definitely a mistake.He inched forward again, trying to distract himself by flipping through radio stations. But still, the pressure in his body remained.

After about 35 minutes of vibing to some random songs, he had made some progress and was at a point where he could drive at a slow pace. With that said, Thomas’ need for relief grew stronger as well. Since no one was there to see him, he freely grabbed himself through his black jeans, which definitely aided him in his efforts. This worked out for him for a while, but inevitably, Thomas reached a point where he needed at least some form of release. Despite his grabbing and shifty legs, a spurt exited his body. It wasn’t enough to make a damp spot on his jeans, but he still felt it against himself. “Fuck,” he mumbled to himself, the wetness teasing the rest of his bladder to let loose. Luckily he didn’t have to much longer.

He spotted the parking lot of his apartment, thankful he hadn’t fully pissed himself yet. The boy, fully desperate at this point, sloppily pulled into a spot and swiped his keys from the ignition. He carefully threw open the door and got out, trying not to leak again. Thomas proceeded to speed walk toward his apartment, but he soon realized he might be fucked. He lived on nearly the top floor, meaning he had to walk up a few flights of stairs to reach his destination. “Well I guess Momma didn’t raise no bitch, huh?” he said to himself in an attempt at motivating himself. He started up the never ending staircase, which at first served him little difficulty. Quickly though, desperation ravaged his entire abdomen.

Another leak forced its way into his boxers. This time he had considerably more trouble getting it to stop, and he was sure if he wasn’t wearing black a small patch would be visible on him. He knew if he kept at this rate he would be empty by the time he reached his front door. So, in a moment of pure determination, Thomas broke into a dead sprint up the rest of the stairs. For some reason this method worked, to an extent. He reached the door to his apartment without completely exploding, but was ready to burst at any given moment. He fiddled with his keys, still violently squirming with the depth of his need, and shoved them in the lock. He opened the door, casting his keys in the general direction of his couch, and headed toward the bathroom.

He went to open the door, only to realize it was locked. The fuck? After a moment of confusion, he remembered his sister was staying with him for the week. “Shit, shit shit,” he gasped. He knew he couldn’t wait for her to get out. He also wasn’t about to wet himself either. Thomas didn't know what to do, and in a pure panic glanced around the hall. His eyes landed on one of his potted plants sitting against the wall. That’ll do. He ran toward the plant, biting his lip in pain. He felt himself begin to dribble. He knew he couldn’t stop, so frantically unzipped his jeans and kneeled down to the greenery. He pulled his dick out, his stream increasing in power.

He aimed himself, and involuntarily started pissing full force into the soil of the plant. Thomas moaned at the relief he got from being able to relieve himself after so long. The liquid continued to shoot out from his body, and the wetness from his jeans rubbed up against his hip. The feeling was almost...arousing? He was definitely confused by the thought of this being pleasurable, but was too focused on the situation at hand to care. So focused, in fact, that he didn’t hear his sister come out of the bathroom. 

“What the fuck are you doing?”

   

Edited by Phragon
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