Lads Pissing

“Bye, love” called out kitchen-fitter Andy as he walked down the garden path to the works van.

“She was a nice woman” he said as his colleague Luke tagged along behind him.

“Hmm” mumbled Luke without looking up.

As the two of them got into the van having dropped their bags in the back doors, Andy looked at Luke, “What’s up, mate? You’ve gone very quiet.”

“I’m absolutely gagging for a piss!” Luke replied.

“Well why didn’t you ask her to use her toilet? She was a nice enough woman, I’m sure she’d have let you.”

“I know, but how many times did she say she’d to us just had the stair carpet cleaned, I think she was trying to say she didn’t want anyone walking on it.”

“You could have taken your trainers off, gone up in your socks?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, it was just a bit awkward. Anyway, let’s just try and find a toilet quickly, I haven’t been busting this bad in ages. I’ve needed to go for the last couple of hours.”

Andy laughed, “You daft sod!”

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Ten minutes later, they were heading along the A12 dual carriageway, heading for the motorway.

“Still need a wee, do you?” Andy grinned.

“You know I am” snarled Luke irritably, “you’re going to have to pull over in a minute.”

“Next sign that says garage, services or toilets and I will, I promise. Just cross your legs until then, okay mate? I’m not paying out to have the van valeted just yet!”

“Leave it out will you” snapped Luke, “I haven’t been as closing to pissing meself for years, I’m not joking either.”

“Well, it’s your own stupid fault pal, all you had to do was ask that woman to let you use her toilet.”

Luke leaned forwards in his seat and pulled his thighs together, “I wish I had now, I’m desperate.”

There was silence for around 30 seconds before Andy spoke again, trying not to laugh, “So come on, when was this last time you were nearly wetting yourself?”

Luke was still sitting uncomfortably, with his upper body bent forwards.

“Queueing to get into the Knebworth festival a few years ago, I went with my girlfriend and I nearly wet myself on the coach going there. And then it took ages to get in. I almost did it in the queue!”

Andy’s face broke out into a huge grin, “How old were you?”

“It was about four or five years back, so I’d have been about 20 I suppose. I can still remember what the pain was like, I was in agony. I honestly thought I was going to do it in my trousers in front of everyone.”

As Andy laughed again, Luke added, “I’m not far off needing one that bad again, mate. Stop when you can, I’m being serious.”

“Alright, alright, I hear you mate. I will pull over, I just need to find somewhere suitable.”

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Less than a couple of minutes had passed and Luke was sitting jigging his legs back and forth in rapid fashion whilst pressing his ankles together and grinding his feet on the floor. But suddenly Andy muttered, “Oh no, mate. Look!”

Luke looked up and they both saw a contraflow system in front of them, with orange and white traffic cones in the distance separating the lanes in the road.

“We’ve either got to take the motorway here, or else we carry on along the A12 which is going to take us out of our way. The services are only a mile or so away but if we don’t hit the motorway now, it looks like the next junction’s closed, so we’re stuffed.”

“Don’t take the motorway please mate, we won’t be able to stop if we get on the motorway and I’ll never last out. Just get to the services, please!”

“But I can’t mate, who knows where we’ll end up if the next junction’s shut. I’m just going to have to take the motorway lane now, I’ve got no choice!”

“Shit, shit” groaned Luke, “I won’t make it, I’ll end up wetting myself!”

“Here we go, I’ve got to make a decision now to get in the right lane” replied Andy sharply, “it looks like there’s a queue through the contraflow whichever one we take, we’re going to get stuck anyway by the looks of it, I think we’re going to be stuck whatever…”

Luke’s response was both loud and despairing,

“Don’t take the fucking motorway! Please mate… I’m gonna piss meself!”

(to be continued...)

Sounds like he is going to dribble soon.

Yes, either dribble, or a more emphatic blast of a second or two into his underwear! I'm wondering what Andy's absolutely top priority is right now. Will he base his decision which route to take on the need to get to wherever they're going on time, or is he more concerned about his work-mate's bladder?

Great story so far, look forward to reading the rest.

It would be great to know what colour boxers he's wearing:)

Part Two

Andy spoke fast, “What am I gonna do? Quick! I’m about to get in the lane we need!”

“Not the motorway, please mate!”

“I’ve got to, we’re in the left lane now, I can’t get across, we’re too late to change, no-one’s letting me in, we can’t switch now, we’re going to have to hit the motorway…”

“Oh God, I don’t believe this!” Luke let out a little groan of anguish as one of the cars in the adjacent lane gave a blast of the hooter to make it quite clear to Andy that the white transit van was not forcing its way across the lanes at the last minute.

“Too late mate, sorry, we’re done for now, we’re heading for the motorway…” started Andy, before adding more quietly, “oh shit, look at this queuing traffic.”

Luke lifted his gaze whilst keeping his head bowed forward, seeing hoards of red brake lights before them in the now single lane of traffic, with traffic cones either side of them.

“Jesus, this a nightmare, I am desperate for the toilet, absolutely desperate!”

“Just hang on, it can’t be that bad!” Andy said, as he slowed the van to little more than 10mph.

“How do you know how bad I need to go” snapped Luke, “I’ve just told you, I’m busting like you wouldn't believe!”

“You can’t need to go this bad so soon after we left, it can’t have come on that severely in such a short period of time, surely?”

“I’ve already said” replied Luke, “I was dying to go while we were working, probably for the last couple of hours. I could hardly stand still when we were packing up, I was bursting that bad.”

“I still can’t believe you didn’t ask her for the toilet? And there was even a McDonald’s about 10 minutes away, you could have nipped there if you didn’t want to go at the house.”

Luke pressed the palms of both his hands firmly down on his thighs and blew out his cheeks, “I’m telling you mate, I’m in serious danger of wetting myself if we don’t find somewhere soon!”

Andy laughed gently, “Well you’d better start tensing those bladder muscles then, ‘cause we aren’t going anywhere fast or soon, this is going to be queuing all the way to the motorway and there’s no way we can stop anywhere, we can’t get out of the lane.”

“God, I’m going to have use a bottle or something, anything like that, there must be something in here I can use?”

“Not a chance” replied Andy, “my missus cleaned out the van at the weekend and she got rid of everything. There’s probably an empty bottle in the back, but there’s no chance of getting to it. You’re just going to have to hold on!”

“Christ, I might have do it on the floor!” Luke was grimacing.

“Don’t you bloody dare mate, the guvnor only had it recarpeted a few months back, if you piss on it you might not have a job at all, he’d go crazy!”

“Well if it’s not the floor it might be the seat if I can’t hold it!”

Andy tried to find something to be positive about, “At least we’re moving, even if it is slowly.”

But Luke was not reassured, “It’s be better if we were stationary for a few minutes, maybe I could jump out?”

“Don’t be daft!”

“Look mate, I’ve never said anything like this in my life and been so genuine as I am, but I am in serious danger of pissing myself, honestly!”

And with that, Luke folded his arms resting on his thighs and bowed his head, almost burying his chin on his chest.

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For the next couple of minutes the van crawled along in the slow-moving traffic, maintaining a steady 12-15mph, with Andy concentrating on keeping the vehicle in the narrow coned lane. Luke was saying nothing, other than emitting several deep breaths as he sat knocking his knees together constantly and out of the corner of his eye, Andy could see his workmate’s entire upper body shaking due to the force of his leg movements.

The two of them hadn’t worked together for that long, probably only doing half a dozen jobs together for the kitchen-fitting company James Blake and Sons. Andy was 30-years-old, almost five years older than Luke, and he had worked for the company for six years, whereas Luke had only been with the firm for coming up to two years, having previously worked as a welder. The company van was pristine outside, with the orange and grey logo of the company vividly displayed on the outside, whilst the two lads inside were wearing the similarly coloured company shirts, along with the company-issued grey trousers.

Andy was somewhat craggy-looking, whereas Luke was of smaller build, slimmer and had short black hair, as opposed to Andy’s lighter brown and thicker hair, and it was Andy who broke the silence in the van.

“I reckon we’ll be hitting the motorway in around 10 minutes max. Hopefully the traffic will start to speed up then, although it’s going to be busy I suspect, with all this lot being diverted on. I’ve no idea where there are any services, but if needs must, I suppose we can pull off at an exit and try and find a garage or something…”

But he was still speaking when Luke interrupted.

“Andy mate, I seriously can’t hold this in much longer, I’m going to go in my pants!”

“Oh fuck, just try and hold on, we’ll find somewhere eventually, you’ve just got to wait a while…”

But Luke pressed his trainer-clad feet together before planting one foot on top of the other and then plunged his hand down between the tops of his legs to grip himself tightly, as his voice quivered.

“Mate, I’ve just done a bit. I’ve done a bit in me pants! I think I’m going to wet myself!”

(to be continued)

Part 3

Andy had both hands on the steering wheel, but he was constantly turning his head – from the road, to Luke in the next seat, back to the road, and then back to Luke again.

Alongside him, Luke was swaying back and forth, bending forwards and backwards at the waist. His right hand was buried deep in his lap and his fingers were opening and closing as he gripped the crotch of his grey trousers, whilst Andy could see sweat glistening on his workmate’s brow.

“Are you pissing?” asked Andy quietly, almost fearful of the response.

Luke shook his head.

“Not now” he spoke in a near-whisper, “not any more."

“You’ve done some though, yeah?” enquired Andy.

This time Luke nodded.

“Yeah, my pants are wet, but I managed to stop myself. Mate, I’m nearly doing it in my trousers. I don’t know what to do.”

“As soon as we get out of this contraflow, I’ll pull over mate, I swear to you. Even if I have to get on the hard shoulder, I’ll stop for you. Just a bit longer to wait and I promise I’ll find somewhere.”

Andy offered the comforting words but he could see the line of traffic stretching way beyond them and he knew it was asking for a miracle for Luke to contain himself for much longer.

Suddenly, Luke stopped fidgeting his legs and instead pulled his knees tightly together, almost clamping them into each other and Andy could just see Luke’s hand frantically moving about.

“I’m sorry mate, I’ve got to do this. If I don’t I’m going to totally wet myself!”

“It’s okay” replied Andy, “just try and hold on.”

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“Look, we’re getting up a bit of speed” Andy said with as much hopeful enthusiasm as he could muster, “if we don’t get any sort of hold up, I reckon we’ll see the motorway lights pretty soon.”

But he looked firmly to his left as he saw significant movement. Luke suddenly straightened his legs out and seemingly lifted himself slightly off the seat as he turned his entire body to his left before drawing up his right leg and bending it at the knee as he tucked his foot underneath him. He looked like some sort of contortionist as he ended up facing the door and sitting on the side of his left buttock, with one knee tucked almost into his stomach, and the other leg stretched out with his foot pressing violently into the carpeted floor.

Andy looked again.

“Jesus mate!” he exclaimed.

“I’ve just got to try and stop myself pissing again!” Luke mumbled, red-faced and clammy.

But it wasn’t his posture that had made Andy speak out. It was the fact that the way Luke was sitting meant that Andy could see most of his backside … and there was a large dark grey stain, almost round in shape, prominently showing on the seat of Luke’s trousers.

“Mate, you’ve wet yourself!”

Luke seemed oblivious to the statement as he shifted his position again and this time he drew both legs up so that he was almost in a foetal position.

“I’m going to do it! I know I am! I’ve never ever had to go this badly. If we hit a bump or anything, I’ll have pissed myself before we stop!”

“Motorway mate!” yelled Andy, “there’s the motorway. Just a couple of minutes more and I’ll be able to pull over!”

(to be continued)

This is soo exciting! Can't wait for the rest!

Part 4

“God, this is embarrassing!” Andy could hardly avert his eyes from his distressed work-mate.

“It’s going to be more fucking embarrassing for me in a minute!” mumbled Luke, unaware that Andy had already seen a significant wet patch on the back of his trousers where he’d dribbled into his underpants at the height of his desperation.

“I know you’re in trouble, but at least try and sit upright, you’re making me feel uncomfortable. You look like a four-year-old” said Andy.

“I feel like a four-year-old!” barked Luke irritably, “if I do piss myself… Christ, this is unbearable!”

“Alright, alright, look the motorway is only a few hundred yards away” Andy uttered, before adding with a tone of concern in his voice, “the only thing is…”

“What?” groaned Luke, “what now?”

“I’m not sure if the hard shoulder is actually open. It looks like the motorway might only have two lanes open, the second and third, so if lane one is shut, so will the hard shoulder be.”

Luke twisted his body so that he was sitting on his backside again, and although he initially stretched out his legs in front of him, he quickly pulled them back again and clasped both arms around his knees, clamping them tightly together with his feet raised off the floor.

“I’m going to have to give up and let go in a minute, I can’t take much more of this, honestly!”

“Don’t be an idiot” replied Andy, “you’ve held on this long, another few minutes is all you’ve got to last out.”

Luke let out a wail of despair, before gripping his knees even tighter.

“Mate, I don’t think I can, you don’t know what this is like. I can’t even feel the pain any more, it’s just like a numb feeling. I think it’s at the stage where it’s just going to happen!”

Andy tried to offer some advice, although it may have been a ludicrous suggestion considering the circumstances.

“Can’t you just let a tiny bit out, just a couple of little spurts? That might ease it until we stop? A sort of damage limitation?”

Luke shook his head, “No chance mate, if I relax for a second I’m doing the whole lot in my pants. I couldn’t even control how much I’d let out.”

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Andy stared into the distance. His fear was right, there were only the two outer lanes open and the inside lane and hard shoulder were coned off for as far as he could see.

“I’m trying to see how far…”

But before he could say anything further, Luke interrupted him.

“Fuck! It’s coming! I can’t do this anymore, it’s coming out!”

He bent forwards, leaning down so far that his raised knees were almost touching his chest.

“Mate! I’m going to wet myself!”

With scarcely a second to even think about what he was doing, Andy spotted a green port-a-loo inside the coned area for the use of the workforce, and without even indicating, he swung the van through the tiniest of gaps between the cones and into the off-limits section. There were hardly any orange-jacketed workmen around and Andy slammed on the brakes, bringing the van to a sudden halt about 20 feet away from the single port-a-loo facility.

“I’ve found a toilet for you! You're going to make it mate!” he shouted.

(to be continued)

Mmmm this is t your usual style

Final Part

As Andy opened the van door, he was immediately aware of some shouting and he looked around to see two of the workmen hurrying towards him.

“What do you think you’re doing? You can’t pull over and stop on here!”

“My mate’s desperate for the toilet, please, let him use it, he’s literally about to piss himself!”

“I don’t care about that, you can’t stop here for any reason, you’ve broken through the barrier!”

But as the exchange was taking place, the passenger door opened and Luke clambered out as best he could, just about managing to plant both of his feet on the floor.

“Christ, look!” said one of the workman, staring at the back of Luke’s trousers, where the dark wet stain was now the size of a dinner plate, “he’s had a fucking accident!”

He glanced back towards a couple of other workmen who had appeared on the scene.

“Who’s got the key to the bog? Tommy had it last. Sean, go and get it from him quick!” and a young workman began to ran back shouting, ‘Tommy, Tommy!’

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Back at the port-a-loo, Luke had hobbled the short distance to the toilet facility, and as he got within a few yards, he stopped, bent forwards and put his hands on his thighs, remaining in that position for several seconds.

“They’re getting the key for you mate!” called out the approaching Andy.

Luke stood as upright as he could manage, but he began to press his legs together like a little boy, squirming around with his thighs pushed against each other and then crossing one leg over the other and squeezing his knees tightly.

By the time Andy had arrived, Luke was gripping the crotch of his trousers firmly and had one foot standing on top of the other, looking for all the world like a desperate schoolboy.

“I’m not going to make it!” he whimpered, and as Andy couldn’t help glancing down, he saw a little golf-ball sized spot glistening on the crotch of Luke’s trousers, before rapidly increasing to the size of a tennis ball.

“Do it on the floor mate! Just piss on the floor! You’re half-hidden from the road, just go on the floor if you’re doing it in your pants!”

Luke seemingly knew that the game was up, but to Andy’s astonishment, instead of unzipping his flies, Luke grabbed the waistband of his tight-fitting trousers, with one hand at each hip, and began to try and yank his trousers down, wrestling with them and exposing a pair of white Diesel boxer-briefs with a red branded waistband, trying to lower them from his waist and looking as if he was about to drop into a squat.

“Oi” shouted one of the watching workmen, “I thought you said he needed a piss!”

“He does!” called back Andy, before turning to face Luke, “what are you doing mate, what on earth are you trying to do…”

Luke suddenly stopped moving, let go of his trousers, dropped his arms loosely by his sides and clenched his fists, as Andy saw the wet patch on his crotch sprout a couple of thin tramlines to weave their way down Luke’s right leg as the darkness of the wet patch glistened.

Within seconds, there were three or four tramlines streaming down the front of his trouser-leg and almost instantly, several thin trickles also extended down his left leg and just a second or two passed before the lines merged into dark wet, wide stains cascading down the insides of both of Luke’s trouser-legs.

Andy watched on in disbelief as the grey material turned dark all across his work-mate’s groin and the darkness widened right down as far as his ankles.

“Jesus, he’s wetting himself!” uttered one of the watching workmen.

Luke was just standing motionless with no expression on his face and he could feel scorching warmth all around his midriff and the heat was spreading all around his cock and balls before hot trickles streamed all down both of his legs, saturating his thighs, weaving round the backs of his knees and running down his calves as well as wetting his shins.

He had never experienced such a glorious luxuriating release of urine as all the awful pain and discomfort evaporated into a sensual warmth running down his legs, weaving through the dark hairs, onto his ankles and seeping into his socks.

Andy had never seen anyone wet themselves before, but he was nonetheless surprised to see not just the trousers darkening and getting wetter, but seeing at Luke’s feet, small but strong streams were trickling out of the bottoms of both legs and dribbling all over and down the sides of his burgundy-coloured Lacoste trainers before gathering in little puddles around each foot and growing in volume whilst merging into one sizeable steaming pool of hot pee.

Time seemed to stand still as Luke spectacularly wet himself, with the never-ending flow down his legs and over his feet lasting a good 45-50 seconds before the streams began to ease and turn into cooler trickles, dribbling through the matted hairs on his legs and soaking into his trainers.

“I’ve wet myself!” mumbled Luke, as if announcing something nobody was aware of.

“Come on mate” said Andy softly, stepping forward to put his hand gently on Luke’s shoulder, whilst being conscious to watch his own feet to avoid stepping into the large puddle on the floor.

“I’d get him back in your van and out of here as quick as possible before the coppers spot you” offered one of the workmen, and Andy prompted his mortified mate to walk slowly and extremely uncomfortably in bow-legged fashion back towards the van, with his saturated grey trousers clinging coldly to his legs.

“I’ll put some plastic on the seat and the floor” he quietly announced, “slip your trainers off too.”

Luke didn’t bend down, but eased his feet out of his trainers, revealing some clearly soaking wet light blue socks, and Andy took the trainers and put them upside down inside the windscreen in the hope of drying them off a bit.

“Do you want to take your trousers off mate?” he asked.

Luke shook his head, “I can’t, the zip’s bust. I can’t pull them down without breaking the zip.”

“Oh, is that why you were trying to pull your trousers down outside the toilet?”

Luke nodded, “The tag came off the zip this morning so it won’t move, the only way I can get them open is to wrench the waistband and break the zip open. The trousers are too tight to pull down otherwise.”

“Okay” replied Andy and walked round the back of the van to the driver’s door … as the penny suddenly dropped.

“That’s why you couldn’t go for a piss at the woman’s house, isn’t it?” he exclaimed, as he climbed into the driver’s seat.

Luke nodded just once and spoke quietly, “If I’d broken the zip at her house, I couldn’t have carried on working because I had nothing to hold my trousers up. I was too embarrassed to say anything, that’s why I was dying to go so badly. I was close to wetting my pants when we got in the van. Don’t tell the rest of the lads will you?”

Andy threw his head back and laughed, “You burke! You mean to say I can’t dine out on this whole incident for the next few years, mate?”