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Taking the drain


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On 4/7/2021 at 7:14 PM, wetwulf said:

Hot story! Will there be more @ppppppp?

 

On 4/9/2021 at 5:07 AM, Lutab said:

Hope there is a part 2 🙂

Thank you for your interest.  There may be a part 2, but I am not yet sure.

I'd like to hear suggestions about what might happen next?

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Maybe they find an empty taxi and she doesn’t want to pee in public so she pisses in the back seat making a big puddle that is clearly yellow since she has been holding so long. Maybe starting to have fun she leans back and sprays it all over the door and back of the seat too.

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Another idea would be that they find an unlocked door to an apartment building. Going inside they find a nice carpeted floor in the hall between apartments maybe even a couch or chairs in an empty waiting area and she pisses all over them leaving a yellow stain and a strong smell behind.

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  • 2 weeks later...

And the night finally draws to a close...

 

Within a few minutes after she had got back into the taxi queue Chloe realised that she needed the toilet.  Again.  It made no sense.  It wasn’t that long since she had knelt in the grass and peed.  Perhaps, she thought, there was just because she had ‘broken the seal’.  Or, maybe it was because she had been drinking so much that night already.  It could even be because she had been too careful to wee slowly, so her puddle had soaked into the ground, rather than wetting her jeans.  

Whatever the reason, she found herself casting a glance back towards the spot where she had wet the ground.  She wondered if she had time – or the courage – to go back and have another tinkle in public.  

Jess noticed her fidgeting and asked the direct question.

‘You alright?  You look like you need the ladies room again?’

‘I do!  But I’ll be alright.  I just don’t understand why I need to go so often.’

‘You’re probably pregnant.’

Chloe had to laugh.  ‘Don’t!  That’s not funny!  And don’t make me laugh, or I will have to pee again.’

The next taxi was theirs.  They got in, and gave Jess’s address, explaining that Chloe would give hers after dropping off Jess.

It was a relief to be sitting down, and the two girls re-ran the night’s event on the journey.  Too soon, they were at Jess’s house, and the evening was over.  They made their farewells, and the taxi drove away, with only Chloe on board.  

She now felt really uncomfortable.  She jiggled her legs, and in the darkness of the back of the car, pressed the palm of her hand into her crotch.  She felt every bump in the road magnified at the base of her belly, making her muscles strain.  Another one, and again, she had just managed to keep her pants dry.

Now she was thinking about her options.  Perhaps she should ask the driver to stop.  But then what?   Squat and pee on the pavement?  Or in the road, behind the car?  Or in a front garden?  No, she couldn’t do that.  Perhaps she shouldn’t try to wait any longer, but should just wee in the seat, through her jeans?  No, she didn’t dare try that.  It would be too embarrassing if the driver caught her.  And he would make her pay for it.

So she sat, miserably becoming more desperate, trying her best not to wet herself, and hoping the journey would end.  It seemed so slow!  Eventually the driver turned into her road, and slowed down.  He asked which house.  Chloe was already unfastening her seat belt, and had her payment ready before he stopped.  

She panicked when she couldn’t get the car door open.  As she struggled with the pull she felt a little moistening in her knickers; she was having a small accident.  The driver clicked the main lock, and she was freed.  Quickly she paid, thanked him and hurried to her front door.

As the taxi drove off, she felt less anxious.  She was now alone.  Out of doors, but it was private.  A conversation she had earlier with Jess now came to mind.  Hadn’t Jess suggested she might sit down and wee through her jeans.  She now felt curious.

Without really thinking about it, she sat on the small front lawn, facing the road.  And then, without quite realising how it had happened, she was wetting her knickers.  She wasn’t sure whether she had decided to pee, or if she had just lost control when she sat down.  She parted her thighs and looked down and saw she was sitting in a puddle, clear wee running through and over the denim of her jeans.

She pissed hard.  It felt comfortable now to push it all out of her, to do nothing to slow the flow.  She could hear the rustling noise of the wee gushing into her knickers, could feel the warm liquid swirling around her groin, filling her underwear and jeans.  She felt mischievous and liberated, pissing through her clothes in public.  She was sure nobody would notice that she was going to the toilet, even if they walked past and looked right at her.

She reached down and felt the warm pee running through her jeans.  The flood inside was making the material bulge from her.  She looked around.  Nobody was watching her.  She kept going, watering the grass where she sat.  Eventually she had to stop, she had no more pee to let out.  She managed only a few more short squirts, but wished she could keep going.  

She sat there for a while, in the calm, quiet of the night.  Her sodden jeans quickly cooled, and started to feel clammy.  It was time to go indoors.

She examined herself when she was inside.  She was surprised at how small the wet patch on her jeans was.  She was soaked between her legs, and there was a circular wet patch on her bum, where she had been sitting in her own puddle of pee.  But the material of the legs of her jeans were dry.  She reckoned she could get away with it if she pretended she had sat on a damp patch.  

She thought to herself, it might not be a bad way to deal with a pee emergency on a night out.  Perhaps she might do just that on her next night out with Jess; she could sit down on a patch of grass, tinkle into her jeans, and probably nobody would notice what she was doing while she was weeing, or what she had done after she had finished.

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