Lads Pissing

Simon was on his way home from his job in The City of London. It was the olden days when we all worked Monday to Friday and alternate Saturday mornings On Saturday we could dress casually but that meant smart trousers and a blazer or sports jacket. Simon was suitably smart. It was a hot day and he had his jacket on the seat next to him and a copy of the old Evening News laying on his lap. He was out of breath from running most of the way from Bishopsgate to London Bridge to get the train, the next would have been a half hour wait but he realised now perhaps that would have been wiser because he could have gone for a piss before the journey started.

He already had the feeling that he might not make the distance based simply on his previous history of failures to hang on. It was not the most confident start to a forty minute journey to Hayes. His white soft cotton trunks were already quite wet with his perspiration after the run and he tugged a little at the long tail of his white shirt that he realised was tucked inside his underpants and giving him some discomfort. The train moved in a sedentary manner and by the time St Johns had been paused at and they arrived at Lewisham Simon was prepared for the worst. He knew he would wet his pants and it was simply a matter of how long he could survive. He began to concentrate hard and prayed that perhaps his compartment would empty before disaster struck again. It was only a month ago since he had left the train, his bottom soaked and a soggy seat cushion for the next passenger, something he was ashamed of.

Unusually no one got off at Catford Bridge and he was still part of a company of six. He was terrified of showing his need so he could hardly hold himself or fidget too much. The first squirt came approaching New Beckenham. He made himself stop, quite how he did not know but he knew that under his paper was a wet spot and he could feel his trunks wet around his fly. He sighed and looking at the guy sat opposite him he knew that he was watching and waiting for him to piss his pants. If Simon had been alone in the compartment he would simply have wet his pants and done away with the pain and discomfort of hanging on but thankfully at Elmers End it was just him and the guy opposite. He let go another squirt and realised to his horror the newspaper on his lap was giving him away. It was becoming visibly wet.

"Why not just piss your pants son. Just give up. I'm not going to tell." Simon looked at the man and said, "thank you. I will." With that he took away the wet newspaper and found himself enjoying the hot surge of urine into his pants. His bottom felt sodden and he felt so happy. The other man was smiling and Simon felt good. He had never willingly wet in front of anyone else before but this time the relief was so great that if the other man was enjoying watching his relief then it was alright with him.

At Eden Park Simon stood up and adjusted his underwear and trousers and realised his misfortune was blatantly obvious but impossible to change. Approaching West Wickham the man said, "Your pants are showing over your trousers son,"

"Thanks a lot Sir," but that is the least of my problems I think!" As the train pulled away Simon gave the guy a smile and a wave.

Those old trains with individual sealed-off compartments evoke memories in me. I remember looking at other guys in the crowded seats and wondering which of them were trying to conceal bursting bladders from the other people. Sometimes you could tell despite the bloke's efforts to conceal the state of affairs, just like the guy sitting opposite Simon did!

I love the description of Simon's clothing and the issues he had with it both before and after wetting himself. That really adds a lot to the story!

I wonder if you've based this story on any true experiences?

In any case, this is beautifully written. Thank you!

Great account thanks for sharing!

True story perhaps?

You've got me bang to rights - yes -a a true story.

I imagine that those old train compartments created a sort of artificial intimacy, which would allow the narrator to dare his "public" relief. Good report!

@evergreen Wonderful to know this really happened! It begs more questions, actually, but obviously you might well not want to provide more details, and that's fully understandable. What intrigues me is whether you were Simon, or the man opposite him who told him he should just let it go, or someone else in the carriage, or whether you just heard it at second hand. But please don't answer that unless you want to!

Brian,

You know I'm a new guy here and enjoying the site very much. For the sake of the tale I am Simon. Bearing in mind it took place a lot of years ago it is as it really was and it was one of my earliest wettings as an adult. At the time I was mortified but walking home in my soaked underpants I became less so and 'accidents' became something I no longer feared.

Cool.

Fantastic story which captured something of a bygone age. I really enjoyed it.

I hope Simon will have some more adventures - soon.