The Last Bus

[Tytn]

The Last Bus

The happy feeling hadn’t worn off yet. It didn’t matter he was outside in just t-shirt and jeans at 11pm at night on the side of a badly lit section of road with little to no traffic. He was in a good mood and he was sure he’d stay this way for some time yet. Of course, he had other things to remember his evening by, too, but wasn’t sure who was watching so could only ignore his boner. Besides, it was quite warm out tonight.

He had spent the afternoon and evening with his girlfriend. First they’d gone out for a movie, then afterwards they’d gone out to a pub for a meal. They’d walked back to her place and he’d stuck around for a bit whilst they polished off a bottle of wine between them. A coffee nightcap with a ‘short’ in it to ‘keep out the chill’ before stepping out gave him another level of warmth too, enough for him to cope with his bus ride home.

This was the only annoying thing. His parents used to live locally but what with cost of renting and commuting times, they’d had to move 20 miles away, closer to his father's work. This meant they didn’t have to spend so long commuting. It just meant he had to commute for his girl. But it wasn’t too bad. At least it was only one bus! He had already secured a local job at a small garage, working on cars as an apprentice and hopefully getting one himself as soon as he could afford it.

He heard it before he saw it; the noise it created was rather unique, along with the clattering over the badly maintained road. Well lit, and ruining his night vision, there was a hiss of air brakes and then the whoosh of the door opening as it stopped. It pulled up in front, the doors clattered open and he felt smug. He dropped some coins into the slot and replied ‘all the way mate’. The driver prodded the ticket machine until it spewed out a short thin ticket stating ‘MAX FARE’. The doors closed with a whoosh and a bang and as he made his way to the back of the bus he felt it move off down the road.

It didn’t travel very fast, probably rarely even reached 30mph. He felt tired and relaxed in the seat, he didn’t even want to listen to music this time, he was so relaxed.

The bus passed through several small villages within the town until it reached the University, and once reaching the bus stops the driver switched the engine off. Silence. The doors were still closed, there wasn’t anyone about.

He felt a twinge, nothing much but remembered what he had forgotten to do. Still. Only another 45 minutes to go, and he’d not had that much to drink… Or had he?

He glanced at his watch, they had been here for a few minutes now. He wasn’t sure what the driver was waiting for but glancing around found not many people were interested. There were some running feet outside followed by the door opening with a noisy clatter. They trampled onto the bus like a herd of elephants, laughing and panting
“Thought we’d missed you mate,” coughed up one, hunting through his pockets. Like the others, he showed his wallet with its annual scholars pass.
“Got another 10 minutes yet,” the driver replied and returned to his paper as the students hammered upstairs and to the back of the bus.

He felt tired, his eyelids drooped a little, the harsh orange lights from outside got darker and he felt the stirring down below. Another time he couldn’t do anything with it, there were others on the bus. It was laying on top of his legs and pointing to one side but his trousers didn’t reveal it just yet, they had enough space there, thankfully.

He also felt another reminder. He should really have gone for a pee before he left but, well, other things got in the way. Still, not long now…

He thought it was longer until the engine finally whined into life, the even throbbing diesel was loud both inside and out, compared to what it had been. The driver looked around and into the cabin of the bus before finally the doors rattled closed and he engaged the gears, it moved off gently and away from the stop, then bumped over the long speed bump and up the hill to the main road. The movement wasn’t helping and the potholes reminded him he really had to take a leak. He should have asked the driver to wait while he went and found a hedge but even he wasn’t that brave yet. He briefly wondered where the driver ‘went’ but guessed that on the 2.5 Hr trip the driver didn’t need to. He’d love to grow up with that control.

It left the brightly lit university behind, it was still in an urban area, but it was mostly student housing and green hedgerows. It wasn’t long before the houses stopped altogether, the streetlights petered out and then it was just fields and hedges. The lights from the bus were turned down a notch and the front area grew dark completely. He already knew that at night time the cabin reflected on the windscreen causing problems for the driver. The speed picked up, the bumps now were more of a merged event and even the cats eyes in the middle of the road was a short ‘burr’ noise. He could see the next town approaching, dropping down the valley road towards the glow of orange, the leading streetlights visible showing the way out of this small town. Then they were into the orange, rushing past houses that were a shade of orange in the streetlights, occasional white glows from white streetlights, then the traffic lights started. It was stop/start now. Each time they stopped there was the hiss of the handbrake, then the revolutions from the engine climbed as he pulled away, it sounded like he was slipping the clutch but had previously found out the buses had automatic gearboxes. They all sounded like that. The bus turned left and right, slowing down almost to a standstill to ease around sharp corners and taking others at 20mph, which in a town was quite fast. Finally pulling into a long bus stop the bus came to a halt, the doors opening with a clatter and he really had to take a leak.

Concentrating on everything else but himself was a way to distract himself from the aching bladder, reminding him constantly that he really should not have had that drink before leaving!

He turned himself slightly and reached down for a quick squeeze, enough to remind himself it was there without making it obvious what he had done. It was always drummed into him that he couldn’t, shouldn’t touch himself there in public. He had to desist and ignore ‘those feelings’ unless he was in private as it was considered ‘rude’. Clearly he had had a different upbringing to others, as he had seen them around town, hands shoved down trousers and clearly ‘having a play’. They were often clad in tracksuits and smoking. He didn’t like either. The only thing tracksuits were good for were when he didn’t leave the house or going to the Gym, something he didn’t often partake. If he was caught touching himself in public there would be trouble. Before it was a telling off, now he was nearly 20 it was either a disapproving glance or, as one time that made him embarrassed and smile at the same time, a question of if enough ‘starch’ was put in with his underwear! So far that one had not been stated when they had guests but it wouldn’t take time. He had learnt so well, it was only when ‘it’ popped up or even when he actually really needed to take a leak quite badly, that his body ached for a squeeze and there were times when he could not ignore the feeling. He could then get away with explaining that he had to go to the loo! That was another thing. After leaving college he was reminded on car trips that he had ‘grown up’ now and ‘had to wait’. As such, independence from ‘them’ was a priority! Heck, he had to piss quite badly now. Another squeeze and then he’d have to stop it, ignore it, concentrate on something else.

The doors clattered closed and the bus moved off. The roads were smother here, there were less stop/starts and they made good time, and without stopping moved out onto the dual carriageway.

The bus reached the top speed, engine shrieking, gearbox whining, air rushing noisily through the open crevices and the bumps seemed more skimmed with occasional lurches. He’d cope. They were bypassing an area that had roadworks, then would come up the back way. It only added on 20 minutes to the journey and this was something that he didn’t like. He wanted to get there, to get to his part of the village ahead so he could go for a long glorious piss!

“Are you OK?” the voice behind him, he was sitting on one of the higher seats above the wheels at the back of the bus, and it was a side facing seat behind him. He glanced back, an older chap was there, white hair and glasses, he was in the right position to see him when he touched himself. There was no one else at the back of the bus, just them too. The only other person was near the front in the darkness, near the front wheels, he turned back to the chap
“Um yeah,” he nervously replied
“It’s just you seem on edge and, um, you, um…”
“I just need the loo,” he replied. The old man nodded and sighed.
“Yes, that happens to us all… Couldn’t you ask…” then the man stopped. “Perhaps not then.”
“Indeed,” he replied, then smiled. “He might stop for me then…” the old man sagged.
“Not to worry, not far now, and I’ll have a nice jog home.”
“Ahh to be young again and be able to jog!” the chap joked.
“Yeah, although it's no fun when you gotta go bad.”
“I know the feeling, it always seems to get you when you can’t go. Look on the bright side,” he replied.
“Which is?”
“I have to wait to the Southbridge Terminus.”
“Out past the new Tesco?” He replied.
“Yes, young man, and I surely hope that by the time I get there it will be deserted too.”
“Deserted?”
“Yes, because there will be some hedges that need watering near the back of the terminus.” He sighed and straightened himself up.
“I see, I can see why you’d be tense then.”
“Young man, I spent most of the war waiting for a chance to go. I’m sure it’s grown quite large now.”
“Oh, which war were you in? One or two?”
“Oh, you cheeky young pup, the Second World War! I was with a forward reconnaissance and intelligence unit. It was quite an experience.”
“I’m sure it was. Did they just let you go at the side of the road or did you have to go in designated places?” He smiled, jokingly.
“I wouldn’t joke young man, but it varied. Most of the time we were forward of all the others so we could just stop… and go.” He smiled
“And other times?”
“Oh there were times the Gerries caught us with our pants or flies down; thankfully they usually wanted to surrender.” He let out a soft chuckle

The old chap's eyes darted across quickly, and almost subconsciously he realised that he’d acted on the ache in his gut, his fingers had released from the squeeze, having held it for almost half a second. He knew he was still dry but at the same time knew he was very full. The urge and turned into a dull ache and other things were urging too, he knew some of the pains would ease but the one important one at the front was taking precedence. He opened his legs, he was sure the air would move up his khaki trousers a little and take some of the warmth away. They were light brown ones which unfortunately would reveal it all too well if he did infact not make it to the bus stop

“Well, at least it proves you’re a guy and not a girl” the old chap murmured, slyly.
“Yeah, it can get to be a nuisance you know, always popping up.”
“Look on the bright side.”
“Oh, and what’s that?”
“My last one was about 10 years ago” he half smiled, his eyes reflecting his mirth.
He didn’t want to think that the old guy even had had a boner but he let the shudder pass with a comment.

The bus came off the dual carriageway and strained its way around the housing estate, before passing more housing estates. Quite a few cars were parked up now meaning the bus was either in the middle of the road or manoeuvring around the badly parked ones. The speed bumps, specially set aside for buses to just drive over them, didn’t work if a car was parked side-by-side with one and as such the bus slowed to a crawl to creak and rattle over them, before accelerating again. Every time the bus lurched off one the ache hurt. He felt himself warming up, internally. He wasn’t sure if it was the embarrassment or the way his body was telling him he had to take a leak, but, well, dammit, he had to take a leak in the worst way! He really wished he’d even let a little out before leaving the house. Even a short spurt would have probably have taken the edge off it, given him a bit more room. He eased forwards in the seat, his legs moving more under the seat now and tilting his legs down. He felt he needed to get up and pace the floor, stretch his aching knees and legs, perhaps even do a few stretching exercises, similar to standing and sitting, but he had to sit there and wait, wait and hold it, hold it without touching it, without letting the old guy 2-3 times his age see that he has to take a leak worse than, well, worse than the old guy did.

He started counting, in his head, in the smatterings of French and German he learnt when he was younger, on the mistaken belief that a European language would help. He wasn’t sure how but he could ask for a few key phrases, including where the loo was, which made him smart. He got as far as 299 before he lost count and at that moment they hit a pothole and he lurged across the seat. He grabbed it again; he didn’t want a leakage at all!

“You can try as many mantra’s as you like, it won’t help. If it’s gotta come out, it’s going to come out!” the chap softly spoke.
“Yeah, but I can’t piss myself, I’m nineteen! I’ve passed that age!”
“What? So you did it when…” the man grinned
“NO!” he replied quickly, “It’s a figure of speech” he gasped, his fingers squeezing and holding his bulge, the touch helped, holding it close and tight, keeping the pressure in. But then, he couldn’t actually feel the touch down there, only through his fingers. The ache was bad enough that it was encompassing his entire waist, down as far as his knees and up to his stomach. The agony from his bloated bladder overwhelming his body and consuming every nerve around his gut. He couldn’t even be sure that he was managing to stay dry, but he was sure his fingers were still dry.

There were other ‘amazing’ feelings he had but they were usually shorter and faded after a bit, but this was just ongoing, unrelenting. He recalled the phrase ‘so desperate his eyeballs were floating in their sockets’ and realised what they meant.

He recognised parts of the route, they were getting closer to home. He’d still have the mile walk after getting off the bus but that wasn’t too bad. He already knew that as soon as he got off the bus he’d be finding a suitable hedge, bush or field. He didn’t know his full capacity but was sure that he had reached it, he didn’t know how much longer he could carry on, holding it in with just sphincter alone. He started to feel in a ratty mood as well, something that he didn’t often get into. He wanted so snap at the old chap, moan at the driver for going too slow, even demand they stop so he could go from the doorway outside but knew all those were ‘unacceptable’ for their own reasons. So he just put those feelings and thoughts away and stoically held.
“You can always let go,” the man softly said.
“No” he replied.
“Just a little spurt, it’ll feel so much better, and it probably won’t be noticeable, the ache will reduce and you’ll be home in no time, you’d make it then.”
“No!” he hissed back.
“Are you sure?”
“Look, I know that if I start I won't be able to stop. It’ll be an unending waterfall, cascading and splattering out, causing a small river from me to the front door and completely soaking my trousers,” he groaned. The smile was whipped off the old man's face.

“Thanks” he croaked, and his own legs clamped closed, he smiled to himself. So the old man did have to go too. He knew he could say such things whilst desperate and if he was saying them then it wouldn’t affect him as much, but how he felt it. He just wanted and needed to go so badly, he even thought he could let go in the seat but another voice was reminding him what he had just thought. He had to hold it, to wait, through the enduring hostile agony. His eyes welled up, he felt hot and unwell, his lips dry and throat parched. Every nerve in his body was screaming out for one thing. Well, almost every nerve. A few nerves remembered what it was like earlier when he had his ‘tool’ massaged by her through his boxers. Just thinking about that he felt movement down there, and noticed it had grown slightly. He hadn't considered using this as a time to play but he may just do that later. Later, having got off the bus, away from this chap and having found some darkened corner of the countryside to hydrate.

He recognised where he was. Not long now. He straightened in the seat, opened his legs and stretched them a little, moved his back forwards and breathed in a little. He pulled his chest up to give his gut a bit more room and sat like that, feeling it was an odd position but the pain had eased. His stop was approaching. Not long now. He could consider praying, but that would probably only make the old man chuckle at him and right now could do without any interruption.

There weren’t many bus stops on this stretch of the road, and as he turned the corner he saw a glowing red light ahead. More traffic lights. He reached up and pressed the bell on the grab rail, standing up without straightening his legs was a chore. He grimaced, hand snaking to his crotch for a quick grab then even quicker release, he rubbed his hand on his jeans and turned back to the old guy
“Well, I’ll see you around” he croaked
“I’m sure you will” the man nodded “I’m often on this last bus” he nodded and gave a brief smile then walked forwards. He couldn’t hurry but didn’t want to bang his leg against the seats or rails. Such a jar on his precious sensitive body would encourage something he has tried to prevent since leaving his girlfriends house. The traffic light was still on red, then as he stood by the door it went to amber and finally green. The bus pulled out into the carriageway and roared down the road. It got closer and closer to the stop… but didn’t slow down, and it was only when they were upon it he turned to the driver
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he joked
“Bus stop has been closed until they finished the roadwork’s, next stop is after the lights”
“But… But… that’s in the town” he was aghast
“Yeah, Sorry, that’s the official stop” he whimpered softly, he was sure he wouldn’t make it home dry now, he wasn’t even sure he’d make it off dry after they went over that pothole. His entire body lurched and slammed against the luggage rack, his fist went to his package to squeeze tightly before he let go and grabbed the rail. He felt like crying but gulped and blinked back them to concentrate. Finally clearing the roadwork’s he saw the town up ahead, only another 2 miles.

[Fred]

"He really should have gone for a pee before he left." A typical young man's regret. And he assumes that he can hold it until he gets to his destination. "Only another 2 miles." We'll see.

[bodgyuk]

I can see all of this in my minds eye.

[Sam70]

Somehow, I suspect the old man was enjoying the show and was hoping that the young lad would piss his pants while sitting in the seat on the bus.

[ryan1990]

Love this - hope there’s a part 2!!

[Wombat48]

Love this- think the old man was enjoying his predicament??