Lads Pissing

I think we all know how tedious conferences can be. But sometimes they can unexpectedly hold us enthralled.

This happened to me about 20 years ago - a work conference which involved, mostly, people giving presentations about current projects in which they were involved in our field of work. I happened to be part of a post-lunch panel discussion: four of us plus the moderator, with short ten minute presentations each and then questions and answers. I didn't know two of the presenters, but I knew one reasonably - mostly from these sort of industry-related events, where we would often cross paths. I had seen him present a couple of times, as I think he had also seen me present, but never like this, on a panel together.

So we caught up over lunch, which immediately preceded the presentation. We were both young and adventurous at the time - in our mid twenties, but he was especially dashing. He was one of those young people who exuded confidence, but not in a brash way - just in a secure and charming way, and in a way that was to no small extent based on his extreme good looks. He had just that perfect mix between boyish good looks and the rugged young male edge that things like designer stubble, perfect shaped hair, and a killer toned body lend to a young growing man in his 20s who is successful enough in his work to have the very best of everything clothes-wise, without it ever looking intentionally showy.

It was a fairly relaxed sort of conference, and it was into the Australian summer, and so he was not suited up: just in very fashionable black jeans, a short-sleeved buttoned shirt and expensive-looking (presumably Italian) shoes. Cliched perhaps, but undeniably effective.

So, we had lunch and caught up on gossip and chatter, having maybe a little more water than usual on account of the summer and then a decent coffee to finish off with. As we took our cups back he asked one of the waiting staff where 'the mens room' is: with a sort of casualness that wouldn't have raised anyone's eyebrows except mine and it suddenly occurred to me that maybe there was a bit of urgency mounting for him.

The 'mens rooms' were pointed out to him but, as he headed towards there, some other colleague who hadn't seen him for a while stopped him (an me) for a chat. I did begin to wonder if he was feeling the need for 'the mens room' perhaps more pressingly than he would have admitted - just a few more moves from leg to leg than you would normally expect and an occasionally slightly distracted look in the direction he had intended to go.

But, no doubt partly to do with his sense of confidence and being very much in control of himself and his situations, he didn't say or overtly indicate anything.

The very first sign of panic came when the moderator for our session came out and called us in to set up - we were already running late and we needed to get started. There was a slightly incredulous 'Now?' from him and the moderator made it clear that he meant, yes, now.

I was pretty sure now that he was feeling some genuine desperation and it was pretty hard for me not to keep watching that, exspecially with looks as strong and good as his.

It was the mid 90s so people were still using overhead projectors for presentations, and that was set up next to the speaker's rostrum, and the speakers' table where the four of us, plus moderator would sit was next to that. As he bent down to get the overheads out of his case his shirt crept up and I could see that he was wearing (of course fashionable) white 2xist briefs on underneath. He cut, as I say, a pretty impressive picture in every sense.

He was to be the second speaker, and I was to be the third. I made sure i sat next to him on the speakers' table. During the first speaker he was clearly restless .... legs wavering between moments of shifting about in that scissor-like motion, or sometimes just one leg moving as if his thigh alone could stem the mounting pressure, or just sitting rigidly still, like he was trying to flex thigh and calf muscles in an attempt to maintain control.

Then it was his turn to speak. I wonder how much would have been noticeable to people who didn't know him and to me it was very obvious. Normally he would stand behind the podium, operate the slides from there, and move virtually not at all. But this day it was the opposite. He couldn't stand still at all - moving about the podium, as if to point out things on the slides or just to move about for some reason that can only ever make sense to a man when he is pretty seriously desperate.

He got through his presentation but was clearly looking flustered by time he finished. Then it was my turn and I have to say I found it equally hard to concentrate on my job ... I had become so rivetted by him. I got through it fine but was constantly aware of how much he was now moving. The table was such that he couldn't possibly grab himself without everyone seeing, so I think he was just hoping that these movements wouldn't draw too much attention and that people would just just think he was like lots of young, active men who sometimes tend to wobble around a bit. But the two looks are very different, and he was totally and unmistakeably the former.

This all continued, and continued to intensify, throughout the fourth talk and the q&a. I think the bits that fascinated me the most through it all were the times when he was still - tensing and, I suspect, maybe even slightly wetting himself. The black jeans would not have shown much and, I suspected, it would have only been small squirts anyway.

The whole session was just one hour but, by time it finished, his desperation was pretty obvious, probably to many, and definitely to me. A few small patches of wet spot were certainly visible by time it had finished and he got up and left as quickly as he could without it looking too obvious the extent of his urgency. I never found out if he knew those wet spots were showing _ he possibly didn't at the time and maybe others didn't either if they weren't looking for them: but I was, and they were certainly there.

I wish I could have followed him to the 'mens rooms' because I know the sight and sound of that would have been amazing. But it has been interesting, in the years that have followed, to think back to that whole incident, to the wettening 2-xist briefs under those immaculate black jeans on that immaculate young man's body and how the end of it all finally felt for him. I still see him occasionally, and he is still extremely good looking and fit, and it still excites me to think of the secret that he doesn't know we share.

An exciting event, well told! Someone older and wiser might have just said, "I've got to use the men's room; I'll be right back", and hustled off to relieve himself. But from his expensive clothing and his looks, this fellow was clearly into his image, and running off for a wee wouldn't be part of that! In his past experience, he might have had to hold his bladder for a while to maintain the appearance of control, but this time he'd had extra water and then coffee, and his trip to the facilities was interrupted. His only salvation was his youth and physical condition - and black jeans. You might have been the only one to detect his desperate situation!

Fred wrote: ↑05 Oct 2017, 09:15 An exciting event, well told! ... You might have been the only one to detect his desperate situation!

Thanks so much Fred - it certainly was an exciting event and still one I remember well. I think of it every time we run into each other. I, too, have often wondered who else, if anyone, noticed. I can't imagine people not noticing - but then, I notice!!

Another smashing description. The details are brilliantly told.

As Fred says, running out briefly with an apology to everyone around might have been the wiser course, certainly considering that it got so bad that he didn't stay dry! Of course, as one of the speakers and sitting on the panel with you and the other contributors, this would not have been easy for anyone. And obviously he had to do his own talk first. I can imagine he must have been in quite a quandary during the proceedings, wondering if he really had to get up and leave. Perhaps by the time he was spurting into his briefs and black jeans (I love your description of his clothing) it would have looked too ridiculous to leave the room anyway when the proceedings were by then almost finished. It would have demonstrated to everyone that here was a young man on the point of peeing his pants who could not wait for the last few minutes, and that would not fit his confident image (again, you describe his image so well).

I love your writing, Tom.

There is a meeting of a local board that I attend often, and the chair is a man of perhaps forty, a strong, outdoorsy type that I have secretly admired. He often rushes in straight from work, always a bottle of water in hand. The meetings last a couple of hours. Last year, in the middle of the meeting, he called a five-minute recess for a "nature call". Getting up from his chair he said, "I must be getting old. I've always been able to last through a meeting", and he ran off to the men's room. I suppose he could have tried to brave it out like the fellow in the original post here, but he wasn't trying to impress us with his image.

What I read into this chairman's statement is that he often needs to pee during a meeting, perhaps sometimes quite urgently, but he's able to hold it in. If he's a big water-drinker, he must get lots of practice in holding it.

Oh yes conferences provide the occasional gem!

We used to go to one fairly regularly, an all day event where (unusually) lunch was not provided but there was a 2 hour break and invariably quite a lot (most) people ended up in one pub or another. Sat through the afternoon session one year, a friend sat next to me was shuffling round a little more than normal, I looked at him as if to say “you alright”. He nodded but then got his phone out and (it transpired) texted me saying: “I need a piss so badly”.

I read his message and looked back at him smiling, he gave his tackle a good squeeze and a mock nervous look. I texted him back saying something like “I could do with a slash too, it’s only 20 minutes to the coffee break”. He kept shuffling round for the rest of the session, just before the break I texted back asking if he’d pissed himself yet? He replied saying not yet but added something like “can I squeeze past you when the questions start, I’m fucking dying for a piss now”. (I was on the end of our row) I said yeah no problem, I’ll go with you.

So we left as the questions to that speaker started and headed to the gents, he was clutching himself when we got out of the room and as soon as we got through the door into the gents he ran for the urinals. We had a good chat while we pissed, he confessed that was probably the most desperate for a piss he’d ever been!

@Def123 That's a smashing account. I love the thought of the two of you texting about how badly your friend had to piss.

You were very nice to him, going out with him like that. Otherwise you could have answered his final text about wanting to squeeze past you when the questions started by saying that he should ask the first question "is it okay if I go out for a pee?" in front of the entire conference hall.

I could hardly pass up the chance!

Years back, at my work we would have unscheduled meetings, "just a few minutes" we were always told, but they might go on for a couple of hours. I was wise enough to pee before attending, and it was my observation that female staff were more likely to do the same, but a couple of younger male staff apparently seldom bothered to do so. I would sometimes see their tense expressions develop and note their fidgets, and they invariably ran for the men's room at the end.

Def123 that's so hot!!!!