- Wet Stories -
I guess I was driving a little faster than I meant to coming home the other night. I had to go and I mean bad! I was just nearing my exit when I noticed cop lights in my rear view mirror. I gritted my teeth and willed that he was after someone else. But he followed me off my exit, so I pulled over.
I was maybe six blocks from home. There was certainly no place around open with a restroom, but I glanced frantically around anyhow. I dug in my purse for my license and insurance card. I squeezed my legs tighter and tried to fight off the feelings of panic. It dawned on me that I might be in pretty big trouble here in other ways. I'd been drinking and was probably over the legal limit. The nervousness that realization brought certainly didn't help.
I waited for him to approach my car. I half crossed my legs and shifted in my seat. What was taking him so long? I tried not think about the piercing ache above my pubic bone.
The irony stuck me-- usually I was the one laughing at my girlfriends in this circumstance. I don't think I have any great capacity, but I can hold out for a long time normally, and I'm usually the one ribbing my girlfriends when they're jiggling and frantic needing a rest stop.
Now we go out to the bars quite a bit, and I'm well acquainted with the feeling of being a bit drunk and suffering a very full bladder. Us girls just can't go anywhere we'd like like guys can. But I'm accustomed to it, and am always able to just cross my legs to squeeze my little pussy tight, ignore it, put it out of my mind. My two best girlfriends don't seem to have that ability. Now I sat remembering all the times I'd teased them about their predicaments, and told them to just not think about it. But here I was, myself well past the point of just putting it out of my mind. Even though I told my self to relax, my body remained tense.
Finally the policeman approached the car. He asked for my license and I gave it to him. He looked it over, and then swept his flashlight over the interior of my car. I have quite nice legs, and I was wearing a short skirt and dark hose. I know how guys are, and I figured he'd try to stretch this little stop out as long as he could, having gotten lucky enough to stop a drunk girl in come-hither bar attire. Just what I didn't need!
He told me to wait in the car while he called in my info and he returned to his car. I hoped he hadn't been able to smell the alcohol through the open window. I shifted again trying to find a position that would ease my discomfort. All I could think of was how sweet it would feel to slip my hose and panties down, and feel a cool porcelain seat on my thighs, and then let go.
Many a night I've driven home with a very full feeling down there, but I can always make myself think about something else, and the next thing I know it, I'm home. But I'd crossed the line tonight. We'd been bought a round of beers at closing time. The image of me guzzling the last whole beer kept flashing through my mind. Here I was already frantic, and I was sure that last beer was still on its way. Again, I felt panic as one part of my mind tried to tell me that this was it, that this time I'd never make it.
My body went involuntarily rigid again, and I clenched and squeezed for all I was worth. I dug my fingernails into my palms and tried to focus on that pain. I hadn't wet my pants since girl scout camp in 7th grade. I'd tried to hold it for a whole 2 day camping trip. I'd made it through the entire first night and next day. I was feverish to pee by bedtime that night and I lay there awake, afraid to let myself fall asleep for fear I'd wet in my sleeping bag. I remember holding onto the zipper of the sleeping bag and telling myself that as long as I held on to that I'd be OK. Finally exhaustion had overcome me and I dozed off, only to awake to the feeling of heavenly relief as I soaked my sleeping bad. I'd tried to stop but the feeling was just too sweet and I went ahead and let it all flood out of me.
My thoughts were interrupted. He was approaching my car again. He asked the dreaded question. "Ma'am, have you been drinking?"
"I had a couple of beers officer," I answered as evenly as I could. "I think I'm fine though, really," I added, very convincingly I'm sure.
"If I could just have to step out of the car for a moment, please." His tone of voice was stern and curt.
I opened the door and slid gingerly off the seat. I gasped quietly as I stood up, and tugged my skirt back down into the realm of at least semi-decency. He had to be enjoying stopping a young lady thusly attired I thought grimly. My bladder felt like a heavy rock, and it felt like it was ripping and tearing under the strain.
He asked me to close my eyes and hold my arms out to either side. I stood knees squeezed and complied. A long pause.
"Touch your nose with the index finger of your right hand, please," he said. I did that. Then the left. I complied. He repeated this a number of times. I could hardly concentrate on what he was saying. His words sounded like they were coming from somewhere very far away. He switched the order a couple of times and messed me up, I just couldn't seem to make my mind focus.
Next he had me do the dreaded "walk a straight line" routine. I walked gingerly, my heels clicking on the concrete, and every vibration seemed to go straight to the nerve endings in my tortured lower abdomen. As I went to spin around and walk the other way, I felt another intense wave and bent slightly forward. I paused and teetered, helplessly realizing that this didn't look good at all. Then he had me do all that again. He stood there haughty, detached, observing me, and I'm sure drinking in my helplessness, a slim, attractive young female dressed to attract male attention skittering on high heels under the street lights.
He asked me to wait in the car again. I slid back into the driver's seat, thankful for what small comfort that provided. I found myself shifting my hips regularly, feeling like if I just moved a little this way or that I could find a way to stay outside the still growing reservoir in my body. Another interminable wait. I wasn't even thinking about a DUI now. I just wanted to go somewhere where I could pee, oh to be able to just pee.
My body tensed again, and I pushed my fist into the car seat on either side of me. Suddenly an unfamiliar feeling. Every nerve in my body felt suddenly on fire as I felt a few drops actually push out in into my urethra. I clenched my teeth and held on tight. A few drops had leaked out, I wasn't even sure if they'd made it far enough to moisten my panties, but they'd made it out of my bladder in spite of my most concentrated efforts.
Now panic struck. And the police officer was back at my window. He told me slowly and evenly that he'd considered bringing me back to his car for a breathalyzer test, but he said he was fairly certain I would fail. He said that since I was only a few blocks from my home, he would cite me only for speeding and having a tail light out, and he would let me park the car and go home. He said he would call for a cab for me if I desired, or he would run me the few blocks.
My mind raced, thankful to not be in trouble, but weighing the relative speed of each alternative. I thanked him, and indicated I'd accept the ride. He suggested I lock up the car, and come back while he finished filling out the paper work. Maybe he was going to make a pass at me, I didn't know or care. I had ..(continue confession)
I was maybe six blocks from home. There was certainly no place around open with a restroom, but I glanced frantically around anyhow. I dug in my purse for my license and insurance card. I squeezed my legs tighter and tried to fight off the feelings of panic. It dawned on me that I might be in pretty big trouble here in other ways. I'd been drinking and was probably over the legal limit. The nervousness that realization brought certainly didn't help.
I waited for him to approach my car. I half crossed my legs and shifted in my seat. What was taking him so long? I tried not think about the piercing ache above my pubic bone.
The irony stuck me-- usually I was the one laughing at my girlfriends in this circumstance. I don't think I have any great capacity, but I can hold out for a long time normally, and I'm usually the one ribbing my girlfriends when they're jiggling and frantic needing a rest stop.
Now we go out to the bars quite a bit, and I'm well acquainted with the feeling of being a bit drunk and suffering a very full bladder. Us girls just can't go anywhere we'd like like guys can. But I'm accustomed to it, and am always able to just cross my legs to squeeze my little pussy tight, ignore it, put it out of my mind. My two best girlfriends don't seem to have that ability. Now I sat remembering all the times I'd teased them about their predicaments, and told them to just not think about it. But here I was, myself well past the point of just putting it out of my mind. Even though I told my self to relax, my body remained tense.
Finally the policeman approached the car. He asked for my license and I gave it to him. He looked it over, and then swept his flashlight over the interior of my car. I have quite nice legs, and I was wearing a short skirt and dark hose. I know how guys are, and I figured he'd try to stretch this little stop out as long as he could, having gotten lucky enough to stop a drunk girl in come-hither bar attire. Just what I didn't need!
He told me to wait in the car while he called in my info and he returned to his car. I hoped he hadn't been able to smell the alcohol through the open window. I shifted again trying to find a position that would ease my discomfort. All I could think of was how sweet it would feel to slip my hose and panties down, and feel a cool porcelain seat on my thighs, and then let go.
Many a night I've driven home with a very full feeling down there, but I can always make myself think about something else, and the next thing I know it, I'm home. But I'd crossed the line tonight. We'd been bought a round of beers at closing time. The image of me guzzling the last whole beer kept flashing through my mind. Here I was already frantic, and I was sure that last beer was still on its way. Again, I felt panic as one part of my mind tried to tell me that this was it, that this time I'd never make it.
My body went involuntarily rigid again, and I clenched and squeezed for all I was worth. I dug my fingernails into my palms and tried to focus on that pain. I hadn't wet my pants since girl scout camp in 7th grade. I'd tried to hold it for a whole 2 day camping trip. I'd made it through the entire first night and next day. I was feverish to pee by bedtime that night and I lay there awake, afraid to let myself fall asleep for fear I'd wet in my sleeping bag. I remember holding onto the zipper of the sleeping bag and telling myself that as long as I held on to that I'd be OK. Finally exhaustion had overcome me and I dozed off, only to awake to the feeling of heavenly relief as I soaked my sleeping bad. I'd tried to stop but the feeling was just too sweet and I went ahead and let it all flood out of me.
My thoughts were interrupted. He was approaching my car again. He asked the dreaded question. "Ma'am, have you been drinking?"
"I had a couple of beers officer," I answered as evenly as I could. "I think I'm fine though, really," I added, very convincingly I'm sure.
"If I could just have to step out of the car for a moment, please." His tone of voice was stern and curt.
I opened the door and slid gingerly off the seat. I gasped quietly as I stood up, and tugged my skirt back down into the realm of at least semi-decency. He had to be enjoying stopping a young lady thusly attired I thought grimly. My bladder felt like a heavy rock, and it felt like it was ripping and tearing under the strain.
He asked me to close my eyes and hold my arms out to either side. I stood knees squeezed and complied. A long pause.
"Touch your nose with the index finger of your right hand, please," he said. I did that. Then the left. I complied. He repeated this a number of times. I could hardly concentrate on what he was saying. His words sounded like they were coming from somewhere very far away. He switched the order a couple of times and messed me up, I just couldn't seem to make my mind focus.
Next he had me do the dreaded "walk a straight line" routine. I walked gingerly, my heels clicking on the concrete, and every vibration seemed to go straight to the nerve endings in my tortured lower abdomen. As I went to spin around and walk the other way, I felt another intense wave and bent slightly forward. I paused and teetered, helplessly realizing that this didn't look good at all. Then he had me do all that again. He stood there haughty, detached, observing me, and I'm sure drinking in my helplessness, a slim, attractive young female dressed to attract male attention skittering on high heels under the street lights.
He asked me to wait in the car again. I slid back into the driver's seat, thankful for what small comfort that provided. I found myself shifting my hips regularly, feeling like if I just moved a little this way or that I could find a way to stay outside the still growing reservoir in my body. Another interminable wait. I wasn't even thinking about a DUI now. I just wanted to go somewhere where I could pee, oh to be able to just pee.
My body tensed again, and I pushed my fist into the car seat on either side of me. Suddenly an unfamiliar feeling. Every nerve in my body felt suddenly on fire as I felt a few drops actually push out in into my urethra. I clenched my teeth and held on tight. A few drops had leaked out, I wasn't even sure if they'd made it far enough to moisten my panties, but they'd made it out of my bladder in spite of my most concentrated efforts.
Now panic struck. And the police officer was back at my window. He told me slowly and evenly that he'd considered bringing me back to his car for a breathalyzer test, but he said he was fairly certain I would fail. He said that since I was only a few blocks from my home, he would cite me only for speeding and having a tail light out, and he would let me park the car and go home. He said he would call for a cab for me if I desired, or he would run me the few blocks.
My mind raced, thankful to not be in trouble, but weighing the relative speed of each alternative. I thanked him, and indicated I'd accept the ride. He suggested I lock up the car, and come back while he finished filling out the paper work. Maybe he was going to make a pass at me, I didn't know or care. I had ..(continue confession)
- That's Juicy! 16
- Remove It! 0
