Desperate in front of the plumber

[BGSB86 847]

If you’ve read my posts on here before, you know that I don’t always get access to the bathroom in time. As a mother with a mom bladder and two kids to look after, I often have to delay relieving myself, sometimes for a couple hours. Sometimes it leads to a really embarrassing situation, like what happened yesterday. 
One of my toilets wasn’t working so I had to call a plumber. He said he would be at my house at around 2pm. Great, plenty of time to run errands. After eating breakfast, me and the boys set out to do several errands that day. Our last stop was at the mall. I needed some new clothes, and while we were at it, we could hit the food court as a reward. I had already been feeling the urge to go for a while, probably from all that coffee I drank. I figured that we could use the bathroom before leaving and be home before the plumber came. The urge was definitely noticeable, but I figured that since the bathroom was close by, it wouldn’t be an issue. It was. 
I made the mistake of downing a large coke, and in the half an hour we spent roaming around the mall, my urge jumped up drastically. I had to squeeze my legs together every 20 or so seconds, which made walking with multiple bags, a purse, and a kid in each hand, very awkward and difficult. When we turned the corner and saw that the ladies room was closed for repairs. I cursed under my breath, bit my lip, and awkwardly bent over slightly to keep my pants dry. I waited and waited, doing a slightly potty dance, but I realized that I wasn’t accomplishing anything by making a fool out of myself. Plus, it’s nightly unlikely that they would have finished in the next few minutes. So we went to the next bathroom, where to my horror, I saw an incredibly long line, probably because the only other ladies room was closed. I knew I wasn’t going to last in this line, so I didn’t even bother waiting in it. But I still badly needed to relieve myself. I thought about going in a plant, or squatting in a corner, but it was too public. We went back to the car, where I considered squatting right there, but I wrongly assumed I could hold it much longer than I actually could have and decided to keep my dignity. Plus, there were too many people around. 
The ride home was a nightmare. Traffic made a 15 minute drive into a 30minute one. That doesn’t sound like a lot, but I did not have this in mind when I decided to forgo relieving my bladder. Every second counts for me when my bladder needs to be emptied. The entire 30 minute drive, I was squeezing my legs and shoving a hand in my crotch, desperately trying to hold off the impending flood. Despite the ac being on, I felt incredibly hot and started sweating in places where there shouldn’t be that much sweat. I tried to loosen my belt, but it was way too hard to do while leaning forward. I tried to lean back so it was easier, but when I did that, I leaked. I immediately abandoned that idea. When we finally arrived home, I unloaded everything and everyone, barely holding on. I ran into my room to throw the bags and my purse on my bed and ran to the bathroom immediately after.
To my horror, as soon as I got into the doorway of the bathroom, the doorbell rang. FUCK! The plumber was here! I had no choice but to answer the door. He came in and I did my best to hide my urge from him, but it was almost impossible. My suspicions were confirmed when he said that he was going to have to shut off my water, but that I could use the bathroom first. I immediately bolted into the bathroom and could hear him chuckle a little as I closed the door. My cheeks were so red from the embarrassment, but I didn’t care. I barely got my pants down, and when I pulled them back up, I noticed a wet spot. It was very noticeable. But, it was too late. I could do nothing about it. I flushed, washed my hands, and changed right after. 

[WetMart 1,128]

. I imagine the feeling of relief when you went was enormous, although embarrassing in front of the plumber, I admire how you managed to hold on for so long . Thanks for sharing.