Lad wets himself on a plane
Posted: 27 Oct 2016, 12:47
It was the summer of 2015 and a group of London lads were going on an all-lads holiday to Crete. There were six of them in the group, all aged between 21 and 24 and they flew out from Gatwick airport. On arrival at the airport they had started their holiday in the way they intended to carry on, namely by having a good few drinks and they all had a few pints before getting on the plane. No sooner had they got on than there was the usual in-built delays before they finally took off, and by that stage there were more than a few bursting bladders amongst the lads as those beers came back to haunt them.
However, as per usual the seat belt signs didn't go off immediately and after about 5-10 minutes with still no sign of the lights going off, the situation was getting a bit panicky for at least one of the lads - a guy called Sam, a 22-year old electrician. Such was his anguish that he urgently beckoned to one of the flight attendants and asked how long before they could use the toilets, "I'm bursting here, mate" but he was told that they would be notified by the captain when it was okay to remove the belts.
No more than five minutes later, Sam was frantically looking along the aisle of the plane, desperately hoping to see someone he could call to say that he had to go – and now! And regardless of the sodding seat-belt signs. One of the other lads Ryan glanced across, “hey, stop fiddling with yourself, you twat!” he laughed. Sam though had little choice as he pulled his stomach muscles in and pinched the top of his dick through his jeans, “I’m absolutely dying for a slash, seriously!” he muttered quietly.
Craig poked his head round from the seat in front, “Oi, we don’t need you playing with yourself, do we!” he grinned, “Didn’t you see those birds near the front? Don’t put ‘em off before we even get airborne!”
As a few of the others sniggered, Sam was sweating, “For f... sake!” he groaned, almost under his breath, “I need a piss like you wouldn’t believe”. Andy stuck his head over from another seat in front, “alright, don’t announce it to the whole bloody plane, we all need a wazz,” he said “another fifteen minutes and we’ll be up and free to have a wander.”
“Fifteen minutes!!” replied Sam, feeling his face colour up, “I’ll have done it by then, I’m not joking either!”
“Whoah, Sammy-boy’s going to piddle his knickers!” Luke giggled, with his hand cupped to his lips. They all laughed, with Andy clutching his own stomach, “don’t make me laugh, you tit, I’m busting as bad as Sam!”
The minutes continued to tick past with their discomfort was reaching serious proportions and a few of the others were now also in major need when Sam revealed the extent of his predicament as he made to undo his belt and stand up, prompting another rushed visit from the flight attendant who asked him to sit back down. "I am in serious trouble here mate" Sam said, "I'm on the verge of wetting myself, honestly". His
mates had never heard him talk quite in those sort of terms before and the look on his face was revealing that he was in no mood for jesting - it was clear that he was telling the truth. As the flight attendant left with a sympathetic but stern rebuke, the other lads were trying to ease Sam's pain by telling him how badly they had to go but this was of little consolation to Sam who was in agony, sitting with his knees together and with his hand buried deep in his crotch.
Eventually, the plane finally began to taxi along the runway, taking its place in a seemingly-never-ending queue of other aircraft and by this stage almost all of the six lads were feeling their bladders becoming full as the pints took their toll. In the row in front, Andy and Craig were sitting quietly when Simon tapped Craig’s arm, “How’s Sam, he’s gone a bit quiet, hasn’t he?” Andy leant forwards and grinned, “He can’t talk, he’s probably concentrating all his efforts on not pissing himself!” Simon and Craig grinned with Simon adding, “I tell you what, I’m gonna need to make a dash for that bog myself when it’s open.” “Not before me, you ain’t!” responded Andy.
Little did either of them know that in the row behind, Sam was kneading his cock through the crotch of his jeans, his knees almost above his waist and his trainer-clad feet only touching the plane-floor at his toes. Ryan was watching in astonishment and embarrassment, “Stop it mate” he whispered, “people’ll see you!” With his head bowed, Sam didn’t even turn his head to face his mate, “I can’t help it, I’m nearly doing it, I’ve never had to go this bad in my life!”
When the lights eventually went out about 15 minutes later and the message was relayed that it was okay to leave their seats, Sam was in greater agony than he could remember and his need to get up and make for the toilet was almost overcome by the feeling that he couldn't or daren't move. Such was the discomfort that he could hardly bring himself to attempt to stand and his fear was that a move would prove fatal in his struggle to contain himself in any event. Prompted by his now massively-concerned mates and almost propelled by two of them out of his seat, he gently rose, half-bent over and still with his knees clamped together and assisted by his mates supporting arm, he hobbled gingerly towards the toilets at the rear of the plan. The pain in his lower belly and bladder was like a knife and as he saw the queue of about eight that had already formed, he almost lost control of himself.
"Please, I'm nearly going in my pants, please let me in first" he almost whimpered but the response fell on deaf ears to all those how had been waiting for ages as well and Sam had no option but to join the queue and stand as best he could, attracting much attention from those both in the queue and in the seats.
As the queue hardly moved and time passed, Sam's mates were watching horrified, wondering just how he was going to survive until he reached the toilet when suddenly, after something like 5-6 minutes, Sam suddenly turned and almost stumbled back towards his seat. Everyone was watching and his mates were stunned as he edged towards them and almost fell into his seat, still clutching himself tightly through his jeans with one hand, his face a picture of agony. "What is it mate?" "What are you doing?" "Why have you come back?” Sam could only manage a whisper through laboured breathing "I'm doing it" then adding sharply and briefly after a brief pause "I can't wait. I've started doing it in my trousers".
His mates were all staring intently and in disbelief, watching for the awful evidence which suddenly appeared with a trickling stream that ran from the front of the plane seat onto the carpeted floor, emerging between Sam's legs and within a few seconds it had turned into a steady tap-like flow, pooling on the carpet and dribbling from out of the bottom of his trouser-legs. Almost simultaneously, the dark and spreading stain on the front of his jeans began to cover the tops of his legs and his thighs as the material glistened and faded as the hot pee soaked back through the denim.
The darkness enveloped his thighs and began to cascade down the backs and fronts of his lower legs, dripping from the cuff of his right leg and streaming all down his sock. On the seat, between the very tops of Sam’s legs, the scorching urine was bubbling warmly as it escaped through his trousers, running underneath him and being absorbed into his pants which were clinging steadfastly to the cheeks of his backside.
Sam just sat there and wet himself, his mates watching what would be a life-long shame evolving right before their eyes.
As the torrent from his over-distended bladder continued unabated, other passengers were watching the spectacle and as the flight attendant re-appeared looking horrified, Sam's shame was almost complete. "He's wet himself, mate" "He's pissing himself, he told you he couldn't wait" "I don't believe it, he's gone in his pants". Sam could only meekly utter "I've pissed myself!" as he sat there white-faced and trembling.
When he'd finally finished urinating, his jeans were almost a complete shade of darkness across his thighs and to the tops of his knees and the front of the woven seat was still sending drips and little streams onto the floor beneath where a huge pool was soaking into the carpet all around his white Lacoste trainers with his crumpled white sports socks sodden around his ankles.
As the flight attendant returned with a towel, asking if it would be of use, Sam's mates were beginning to realise the stigma that would always be attached to their unfortunate mate after such an incident and as for poor Sam himself...well, it's hard to imagine what was going through his mind at that stage, isn't it?”
Any thoughts...?
However, as per usual the seat belt signs didn't go off immediately and after about 5-10 minutes with still no sign of the lights going off, the situation was getting a bit panicky for at least one of the lads - a guy called Sam, a 22-year old electrician. Such was his anguish that he urgently beckoned to one of the flight attendants and asked how long before they could use the toilets, "I'm bursting here, mate" but he was told that they would be notified by the captain when it was okay to remove the belts.
No more than five minutes later, Sam was frantically looking along the aisle of the plane, desperately hoping to see someone he could call to say that he had to go – and now! And regardless of the sodding seat-belt signs. One of the other lads Ryan glanced across, “hey, stop fiddling with yourself, you twat!” he laughed. Sam though had little choice as he pulled his stomach muscles in and pinched the top of his dick through his jeans, “I’m absolutely dying for a slash, seriously!” he muttered quietly.
Craig poked his head round from the seat in front, “Oi, we don’t need you playing with yourself, do we!” he grinned, “Didn’t you see those birds near the front? Don’t put ‘em off before we even get airborne!”
As a few of the others sniggered, Sam was sweating, “For f... sake!” he groaned, almost under his breath, “I need a piss like you wouldn’t believe”. Andy stuck his head over from another seat in front, “alright, don’t announce it to the whole bloody plane, we all need a wazz,” he said “another fifteen minutes and we’ll be up and free to have a wander.”
“Fifteen minutes!!” replied Sam, feeling his face colour up, “I’ll have done it by then, I’m not joking either!”
“Whoah, Sammy-boy’s going to piddle his knickers!” Luke giggled, with his hand cupped to his lips. They all laughed, with Andy clutching his own stomach, “don’t make me laugh, you tit, I’m busting as bad as Sam!”
The minutes continued to tick past with their discomfort was reaching serious proportions and a few of the others were now also in major need when Sam revealed the extent of his predicament as he made to undo his belt and stand up, prompting another rushed visit from the flight attendant who asked him to sit back down. "I am in serious trouble here mate" Sam said, "I'm on the verge of wetting myself, honestly". His
mates had never heard him talk quite in those sort of terms before and the look on his face was revealing that he was in no mood for jesting - it was clear that he was telling the truth. As the flight attendant left with a sympathetic but stern rebuke, the other lads were trying to ease Sam's pain by telling him how badly they had to go but this was of little consolation to Sam who was in agony, sitting with his knees together and with his hand buried deep in his crotch.
Eventually, the plane finally began to taxi along the runway, taking its place in a seemingly-never-ending queue of other aircraft and by this stage almost all of the six lads were feeling their bladders becoming full as the pints took their toll. In the row in front, Andy and Craig were sitting quietly when Simon tapped Craig’s arm, “How’s Sam, he’s gone a bit quiet, hasn’t he?” Andy leant forwards and grinned, “He can’t talk, he’s probably concentrating all his efforts on not pissing himself!” Simon and Craig grinned with Simon adding, “I tell you what, I’m gonna need to make a dash for that bog myself when it’s open.” “Not before me, you ain’t!” responded Andy.
Little did either of them know that in the row behind, Sam was kneading his cock through the crotch of his jeans, his knees almost above his waist and his trainer-clad feet only touching the plane-floor at his toes. Ryan was watching in astonishment and embarrassment, “Stop it mate” he whispered, “people’ll see you!” With his head bowed, Sam didn’t even turn his head to face his mate, “I can’t help it, I’m nearly doing it, I’ve never had to go this bad in my life!”
When the lights eventually went out about 15 minutes later and the message was relayed that it was okay to leave their seats, Sam was in greater agony than he could remember and his need to get up and make for the toilet was almost overcome by the feeling that he couldn't or daren't move. Such was the discomfort that he could hardly bring himself to attempt to stand and his fear was that a move would prove fatal in his struggle to contain himself in any event. Prompted by his now massively-concerned mates and almost propelled by two of them out of his seat, he gently rose, half-bent over and still with his knees clamped together and assisted by his mates supporting arm, he hobbled gingerly towards the toilets at the rear of the plan. The pain in his lower belly and bladder was like a knife and as he saw the queue of about eight that had already formed, he almost lost control of himself.
"Please, I'm nearly going in my pants, please let me in first" he almost whimpered but the response fell on deaf ears to all those how had been waiting for ages as well and Sam had no option but to join the queue and stand as best he could, attracting much attention from those both in the queue and in the seats.
As the queue hardly moved and time passed, Sam's mates were watching horrified, wondering just how he was going to survive until he reached the toilet when suddenly, after something like 5-6 minutes, Sam suddenly turned and almost stumbled back towards his seat. Everyone was watching and his mates were stunned as he edged towards them and almost fell into his seat, still clutching himself tightly through his jeans with one hand, his face a picture of agony. "What is it mate?" "What are you doing?" "Why have you come back?” Sam could only manage a whisper through laboured breathing "I'm doing it" then adding sharply and briefly after a brief pause "I can't wait. I've started doing it in my trousers".
His mates were all staring intently and in disbelief, watching for the awful evidence which suddenly appeared with a trickling stream that ran from the front of the plane seat onto the carpeted floor, emerging between Sam's legs and within a few seconds it had turned into a steady tap-like flow, pooling on the carpet and dribbling from out of the bottom of his trouser-legs. Almost simultaneously, the dark and spreading stain on the front of his jeans began to cover the tops of his legs and his thighs as the material glistened and faded as the hot pee soaked back through the denim.
The darkness enveloped his thighs and began to cascade down the backs and fronts of his lower legs, dripping from the cuff of his right leg and streaming all down his sock. On the seat, between the very tops of Sam’s legs, the scorching urine was bubbling warmly as it escaped through his trousers, running underneath him and being absorbed into his pants which were clinging steadfastly to the cheeks of his backside.
Sam just sat there and wet himself, his mates watching what would be a life-long shame evolving right before their eyes.
As the torrent from his over-distended bladder continued unabated, other passengers were watching the spectacle and as the flight attendant re-appeared looking horrified, Sam's shame was almost complete. "He's wet himself, mate" "He's pissing himself, he told you he couldn't wait" "I don't believe it, he's gone in his pants". Sam could only meekly utter "I've pissed myself!" as he sat there white-faced and trembling.
When he'd finally finished urinating, his jeans were almost a complete shade of darkness across his thighs and to the tops of his knees and the front of the woven seat was still sending drips and little streams onto the floor beneath where a huge pool was soaking into the carpet all around his white Lacoste trainers with his crumpled white sports socks sodden around his ankles.
As the flight attendant returned with a towel, asking if it would be of use, Sam's mates were beginning to realise the stigma that would always be attached to their unfortunate mate after such an incident and as for poor Sam himself...well, it's hard to imagine what was going through his mind at that stage, isn't it?”
Any thoughts...?
