Posted by Hans on December 22, 1999 at 13:42
By request here is a male desperation stories - comments and eMail are welcome
The long ride
I have the "privilege" of commuting on a regular basis from Eastern Connecticut to New York City. This commute involves a one hour and 45 minute train ride on the CT Metro. Now the CT Metro is a great people mover, but it is not know for its luxurious accommodations. Each car has one bathroom (if you choose to call it that) in the rear of the train, and a matching small room in the front that is locked and used by the conductor. I like to sit next to that compartment, because on a regular basis, someone will come up to that locked door, thinking it is a bathroom only to find it locked. I have seen some lovely panicked looks on ladies faces when they realize that door is locked. I usually point them to the rear of the train and watch them struggle to the back, sometimes holding themselves, or walking with that "I got to go bad" look. I've never seen a real accident on the train, but I'm sure it's happened (and I love to hear about it)
One nice feature about the train trip home is the street vendors. Parked with their carts by the train, you can buy one (or more) 22oz can of Foster beer for the train ride. I've found that my small bladder will hold that 22 oz of beer for the duration of the train ride with only a slight but of discomfort by the time the train gets to New Haven. I refuse to use the bathrooms on the train since they are only slightly better than a typical outhouse, probably due to everyone trying to hit a moving target as the train bounces down the track.
On a recent train ride, I must have forgotten to pee before I left the meeting and got on the train, because after my beer was about half gone, I started feeling the need to go. "No problem" I said to myself, only about 45 minutes to go, I can deal with this, and proceeded to finish my beer. Within the next ten minutes I was beginning to wonder. I reached down an unsnapped my pant, hoping to make a little more Fortunately I was wearing black pants, so I knew if I had a little problem it would not be too obvious, however it was still something to avoid. As we approached New Haven, I got more and more desperate, moving around the seat, and holding my crotch under my coat. I could feel a slight dampness around the tip of my dick, from the few drops I had already leaked, and knew form experience that there would soon be more. As the train bounced into the station, and believe me I could feel every joint in the tracks, another long squirt of pee leaked by my best efforts to contain it. I felt the hot dribble run down my balls and into the crack of my butt. I really hoped I would not leave a wet spot when I stood up.
That when it hit me. I would have to stand and walk off the train. I had to pee so bad, I knew that if I stood up and had to stand still it would be all over. When the train stopped I slowly stood up and reached for my brief case. As I reached into the overhead rack, I felt another hot squirt into my pants. I knew by now there would be a noticeable wet spot. I tried to hold the brief case in front of my pants trying to conceal the worst of the damage. I had to go so bad I though I would die. Two steps and two squirts later, I was in the aisle. I could feel a few drops of wetness down as low as my knee. Briefcase in one hand, other hand in pocket firmly clamped on my dick I made my way down the train. I could feel the pee build up behind my hand to a painful level. This could not go on for long! I knew if I removed my hand it would be all over. Down the tunnel and to the escalator I hobbled in pain. As I wiggled on the escalator, it happened. I released my hand a little and a long squirt of pee ran out. It felt so warm and good, I let it go for another second before I clamped back down. I was now obviously wet to anyone who looked, a spot as big as a dinner plate and growing. Fortunately between the brief case and black pants, I don't think anyone noticed.
Off to the parking lot elevator I hobbled. My car was on the third floor. Four people crowed in with me. I stood in the back - another long squirt, and I knew I was wet to the knees. At the second floor everyone else got out, and I knew my time was up. Not caring I just let go. I felt the warmth spread down my leg, into my shoes and onto the floor (I hope there was not hidden camera in the elevator). Soaking I made my way to the car, growing hard knowing what I did. I was so turned on I played with myself the whole way home. When I got home I took a few pic with my digital camera of the damage, took a hot showed and masturbated to one of the most intense orgasms I've had in a long time. Maybe next time I'll try two cans of Fosters - anyone want to go on a train ride with me?
Email: hadmac@aol.com