Minibus Desperation

[briefs]

In the story 'Motorway Desperation', I wrote about my mate Ryan's desperation: this was the catalyst for my interest in seeing guys bursting for a piss beyond the point of enjoyment.

I thought I'd share one of my own experiences of being in that situation, which wasn't fun, but was, shall we say....an experience that has stuck in my mind!

Rugby was alive and well in South Wales. Wale's team was doing well in the 2005 Grand Slam and one Saturday, was due to play Ireland in Cardiff's Millennium Stadium.

I'm Rob. At the time I was 32, not too bad looking (modest, too!), dark, spiky hair and not in bad shape other than a slight belly, perhaps caused by a few too many pints on the weekend: in that regard, I suppose I was an average valleys lad. Fashion-wise, I wore the usual jeans, trainers, t-shirts. However, instead of the usual boxers, I had stuck with briefs, as I just preferred them.

I was good mates with two other guys: Christian and Michael. Both I'd describe as similar to me, in terms of fashion. They were a few years younger, about 27/28 at the time. I know Christian wore longer-length boxer trunks: button fronted Ben Shermans, that kind of thing. Michael, on the other hand, wore hipsters. So you might say that between us, we wore the range of different undies.

But I digress. Returning to the Saturday in question. we'd arranged to meet at the local Wetherspoons for a few pints and to watch the match. We were wearing red rugby tops together with the usual jeans. I know I was wearing white ck pro-mesh briefs (polyester sport briefs with a blue waistband), and I think I'd glimpsed from his waistband that Christian had light grey Ben Sherman boxers on. I'm not sure what Mike was in.

Anyway, we'd had a couple of pints when Mike got talking to a group of his rugby mates. It turned out they had booked a mini-bus into Cardiff, but a few of the boys had dropped out...would we like to join them?

We said yes, and so as the bus pulled up outside, we rushed to the toilets for the usual precautionary piss. We boarded the bus, ready for what should have been a 30 minute journey into Cardiff. Little did I know that the 30 minute journey would end up becoming an agonising 1 hour and 15 minutes!
I was sat right at the back in a single seat, and across the aisle were Christian and Mike. The driver had set a rule: no bottles and no drinking on board. So off we set, all chatting and happy enough. After about 20 minutes, as we approached the outskirts of Cardiff, one of the rugby lads asked the driver to pull over for a piss. There's a layby on the outskirts that is well-known as being a last piss stop before hitting the city centre.

I was starting to need a piss too, so I was happy that someone else had asked (I was a little shy, as I didn't know these lads). The lager was beginning to make its presence felt in my bladder!

However, when we reached the layby, it had been cordoned off because the dual-carriage way had been coned off the one lane. 'Shit', I thought, I'll have to wait another 10-15 minutes before we reach the pub. But it wasn't too bad, it was manageable. Christian also mentioned to me that he was starting to need a toilet.

As the mini-bus progressed along the coned-off single lane, the traffic started to slow. We were now in a built-up area with no chance of stopping until the city centre. The traffic was crawling, and suddenly I realised I was busting for a piss. If you guys are anything like me, when you're drinking pints, you suddenly become bursting, and it comes on in a wave of discomfort. Not only had we not been able to stop in the usual layby, but we were now in a traffic jam.

We'd now been in the bus for about 35 minutes, and I'd broken the seal before getting on. My bladder was now starting to ache like crazy and I realised that this was turning into an emergency. What followed was the longest 40 minutes of my life before we finally reached the pub. It was awful.

I was stuck on the back seat over the rear wheels and I could feel every jolt from the road. My bladder was aching like crazy and it was getting worse. All I could do was tense every muscle, desperately trying not to piss my pants. Mike said, 'Are you ok Rob?' I replied I was dying for a piss. Luckily, Mike was sensible and replied that he was pretty desperate too. He wasn't as bad as me, as he'd been on vodka, and not pints. But Christian I could tell was a bit tense as well. He muttered,

'How long is this f..... bus going to take, I need a piss, boys'. I replied that I was pretty desperate too.

Now, I was caught between being in a pretty bad way myself, and trying not to get excited about the worried look on Christian's face.

Another wave of desperation hit, and I squeezed my dick, trying to not to leak. I could feel pain in my stomach, as if I was trying to hold back a dam of water. My briefs were becoming clammy and sticking around my balls and backside, as I fought to hold it in. I glanced across at Chris, and could see him bending forwards in his seat, his head touching the seat in front. 'Are you ok mate?' I whispered. 'Yeah, just busting for a piss Rob'.

"Oh God,' I whispered to myself, 'I'm going to do it in my pants if I don't get off this bus.' I calculated we'd have another ten minutes or so before reaching the pub. I reckoned I'd just be able to hold...just about.

I remember that my toes were curling inside my trainers and my legs started to shake and scissor from side to side. This was agony, and well past what was manageable. My entire middle felt like it was about to explode, and it became so bad that I honestly started to consider letting a small volume of piss out into my pants, but I feared I wouldn't be able to stop. My pants were absolutely sopping with sweat by now and I bent forward in agony, but all this did was to set off another pang from my suffering bladder. My entire being became focused on not wetting myself.

Eventually, the bus pulled up outside the pub and I grabbed at the rear door and jumped out onto the road. As I stood up, another wave of desperation hit me and my legs buckled. I knew I was about to wet myself, so I dashed to the pub and ran into the toilets.

Christian followed closely behind and stood in the same row of urinals. As I unbuckled my jeans, I'd already started pissing, so my briefs and jeans became a little wet, but I no longer cared.

"Oh my God!' I gasped as I let go of about three pints of clear white lager piss into the urinal. Chris stood along from me, pissing like a race horse, head looking up at the ceiling in sheer relief. 'Fuck,' he said, 'I was close to going in my boxers mate'.

As I buckled myself back up, I recalled poor Ryan who was desperate beside me on the motorway a couple of years previously, and how he'd suffered, on the verge of pissing his pale blue briefs. Well, now I'd experienced a similar thing. Which just goes show....alcohol is a great leveller, and what goes around, comes around!

[Brian]

Cracking account. The authenticity of the experience comes through wonderfully.

[Wombat48]

Just brilliant! My favourite scenario!!

[ryan1990]

Great story mate! Also love that you continued to wear briefs! Did any of your mates ever notice that’d you wore briefs?

[pissbaby]

Very good story! Love the attention to detail

[briefs]

Thanks:)
Ryan, I wouldn't have thought they knew I wore briefs, but I knew they wore boxers:)

[Tizzy]

Hello,

Thank you for sharing this story. Wonderful scenario at the end

[Troy59]

Very nice scenario. The story is really beautiful.

[Adrian6970]

Good story. Thanks for sharing.