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Evenings at the Diner


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Part One: Long Nights

Karen knew this was going to be a long night when she pulled her car up and saw the army of cars filling the diner parking lot. She hated being late, but recently found it harder and harder to get to work on time. She snuck through the door, intending to slip past her boss.

"Bit late again, Karen." His stern voice assured her failure. "You've got five minutes or you're out." She quickened her pace and slipped into the employee bathroom. The customer bathroom was larger and would have made it easier to change, but employees were not allowed to use it. So, she struggled with her jeans, sliding them down her legs. Wondering if she had enough time to pee, she slipped her panties down her legs also and tried to sit on the toilet. There were a few seconds of relief before her boss' booming voice brought her to attention and she yanked the jeans down and pulled up her panties and the dreaded black uniform skirt.

Karen hated the skirts. They were perhaps the worst wardrobe idea for a waitress in the world. They were long enough to touch her ankles and tight enough to make walking a challenge. The owner of the diner had once fired and publicly humiliated a waitress for deciding to have the skirt altered and take just a few inches off of the skirt.

Karen walked out and checked the booth to see which section was assigned to her. Great. Back section again. This was usually her punishment for tardiness. The back section was the most undesirable section because it was always the busiest. It was reserved for parties, business meetings, etc. and the customers were almost always demanding.

Karen could already see the large crowd in the back, waiting very impatiently for service. Someone had already served them drinks, probably her friend and trusty coworker Jan. Karen grabbed her ticketbook and scooted as quick as she could in her tight skirt to the back section to take orders.

There were probably thirty people crammed into the large assembly room, all mumbling curses about been waiting for a while and getting hungry here. Karen took their orders as quickly as she could, all while walking back and forth to the drink station to refill sodas, waters, ice teas, and a few coffees. She was good at her job, though, and the entire process took about twenty minutes.

As she rushed to the window to post the tickets, she began to feel the return of her bladder pressure. She started for the doorway to sneak into the bathroom. "Karen, those drinks aren't going to refill themselves!" Dammit, why did her boss have to be such an ass? Once again, she put her need on hold and rushed back to her section. This time, refilling the drinks was like torture. She had to squeeze her legs together as she watched the clear water trickle from the pitcher to the glass. The sound of liquids was agonizing. Another wave of pressure hit her and Karen felt a little spurt in her panties. She gasped audibly and immediately her face went red. Karen caught sight of Jan and motioned for her. Jan shrugged her shoulders as she disappeared around the corner to pick up an order.

"Order number 653, UP!" The cook's baritone voice rang over the crowd and Karen rushed to the window to pick up her first order. As she stood waiting for the trays to be filled with plates and plates of food, she bounced on her feet a little to keep her bladder pressure down. Jan leaned close to her.

"What's the problem?" she asked.

"Can you take care of my section after I get their food out? I've got to pee really bad."

"Girl, you know I love you, but you're not the only one who's busy."

"Well, what am I going to do then? I've really got to go. I tried to go before my shift started, but Don was already on my ass." The last few plates were being sorted onto the tray as Jan leaned in again and whispered something that shocked Karen.

"Just do what I do. Let a little bit out in your panties to take the pressure off until you can get to a bathroom." Karen stared at her in disbelief.

"Are you serious? I'm not peeing in my panties." Another burst of pressure reminded her that she may be following Jan's advice unintentionally.

"I am serious. The skirt is long enough to hide it, and as much stuff as gets spilled around here, no one is going to notice a wet spot or two. You don't have to open the floodgates or anything. Just a little at a time to keep you from having a full accident. Trust me. I just did it about five minutes ago while taking table seven's order."

As Jan grabbed the two trays full of food, trying her best not to drop them, she weighed her options. If she held on a little longer and got all of her orders out, she could slip quickly into the bathroom while her tables were enjoying their food. But what if she could not wait that long. Another burst of desperation made her knees wobble and she nearly toppled, almost losing one of the trays. Jan's idea was beginning to look a little practical. But she could not do it right here in front of everyone. If she were unable to only let out a little, she would leave an obvious wet trail behind her. As she walked past the drink station to the tables, she finally had an idea.

After handing the food to table forty-eight, she willingly grabbed the four empty glasses and carried them to the drink station. The floor beneath her was already soaked from melted ice that was frequently dropped. This and another wave of pressure was all the convincing Karen needed as she carefully released the hold on her bladder.

Immediately, a slight warmth tickled the crotch of her panties. She could feel tiny tendrils of her urine caressing her thighs and passing slowly down her knees. She hadn't wet herself since she was a little girl and now the feeling felt new and intoxicating. She allowed this to go on for a few seconds while filling the four drinks until a little of the pressure was taken off, fighting the urge to gasp, moan, even reach a hand down to touch herself and feel the wetness. She knew this would not be the last time her panties would be wet and that she would have to answer another urge when she got home this evening.

Cutting off the flow was easier than she thought and she carried the drinks back to table forty-eight. As she approached the table, the reality of what just happened struck her and she held her breath, waiting for someone to notice a wet spot. But none of the customers seemed to notice. Karen's stomach fluttered at the realization that she had just wet herself in public and no one had noticed.

"Order 654, UP!" After refilling more drinks, Karen rushed up to the window and grabbed two more trays of food. As she walked past Jan, she could not help but look at her feet and spotted a tiny, but almost unnoticeable puddle at her feet. Karen grinned as she carried the trays to table forty-nine. Again, she gathered up their empty glasses and gladly walked to the drink station.

As she stood there, keeping her legs together, she sighed again and her panties filled with her warm pee. This time, the stream was a little stronger and she lavished the feeling as it snaked down her legs and tickled her ankles. Once the drinks were finished, she stopped the flow and carried them to the table.

This went on all night, take orders, fill drinks, pee, pick up orders, fill drinks, pee. Finally, by the end of her shift, Karen's bladder was down to a slight nag. She decided to hold it, though, as the last customers marched out of her section. She held strong as she wiped down the tables, swept food out from under the booths, scrubbed down the drink station, and finally mopped the floor, giggling at the the fact that she was mopping up her own pee.

When she finally got home, Karen unlocked her door as quickly as she could, still feeling the building pressure in her bladder. She needed to pee now, but she wanted this to be special. She was still wearing her uniform skirt and tossed her jeans and t-shirt onto the couch as she ran back to the bathroom. The sight of the toilet almost made her lose control, but she held on, reached into her closet, and grabbed a handful of towels.

Now, as she entered her room, her excitement grew. She tossed the towels onto her bed and, still trying to control her bladder, spread them out on her bed. She wasn't sure if these would do the trick or not, but she knew she was not going to allow anything to stop her now. Jan had introduced her to something new and she was going to thank her later.

Without undressing, Karen flopped onto her bed and spread her legs wide. She closed her eyes and slipped her fingers into her panties to caress her clitoris, recalling her evening excitement: the warmth of her urine as it flooded her panties and caressed her bottom with such sweet sensations that no man's hands could ever match. As she rubbed harder, she let go of all control and felt her urine escape as it soaked her fingers and panties. It continued with such great force that as she opened her panties, she felt a spurt hit her on the thigh, but did not care. The towel under her was becoming soaked as she climaxed, arching her back and moaning as loud as her vocal cords would allow.

Her orgasm ended and she lay flat, closing her eyes to relax. Her bladder announced its need again and she just let it happen, feeling it saturate her bottom. She was sure it was soaking through the towel by now, but did not care. The last few squirts filled her panties and she finally drifted off to sleep.

Later in the night, Karen awoke again, needing to pee. She was laying comfortably on her stomach and did not feel like moving. Remembering that she was already wet, Karen felt that she might as well just go in her bed. She sighed as that oh so wonderful warmth came again. She could feel it fill her already damp panties and pool comfortably between her legs and under her belly. She closed her eyes again to dream of what she would do when she returned to work, and allowed the hiss of her pee to sing her to sleep.

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I've read this before on PS, and am happy to be reading it again. What a fantastic story! The sneaky pees in the diner were hot, and Karen's activities at home were even hotter. Thanks for the repost and the excellent trin down memory lane.

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