#pants pissing
Hey! I’ve had a piss fetish as long as I can remember and thought I’d start a piss blog, cause I think there needs to be more. Follow me to quench your thirst for pissing! feel free to submit your piss pics, ask me questions about my experiences/tell me about yours! I will post my own pics/videos, I’ll even see if I can convince my fiance to do some videos with me as he shares my fetish! I’ll post all kinds of piss content.
Happy pissing!
Warning: The following story contains the following themes:
Public pissing
Desperation
Male pissing
Male masturbation
You have been warned. If the content offends you, do not, and I repeat DO NOT continue reading. 18+ only!
Justin swore under his breath and writhed in his seat as the train rode over one more bump on the line. His afternoon was not going well. He had promised the boys that he would get to the bar early for once but some agent of chaos or whatever shit was fucking with his day.
He squirmed bit more and drummed his fingers against his briefcase as he pressed his head against the window behind him. He sighed and shook his leg as he began to remember exactly why he was in this predicament. First, it was one of those ungodly summer days when the world decided to be a furnace. He had gone to lunch with Jackie earlier and it as wonderful…except the restaurant was having air-conditioning problems and the heat forced him to drink more water than usual. He didn’t mind it though. He always pissed before he left work.
But he couldn’t piss before he left work today. Several more glasses later and a few minutes before closing, the boss decided to have one of those ‘could have been an e-mail’ meetings that just pissed off everyone. The stupid thing dragged on for half an hour, setting everyone fifteen minutes back on their transportation run. When the meeting was over, totally forgot to go to the bathroom. He just sprinted down five flights of stairs and headed straight for the train station. Between his exertion and hyper-hydration, here he was trying his best to ignore the pressure in his bladder.
He closed his eyes and tried his best to think about dry things as he rocked his body in a disjointed rhythm to distract himself. Beads of sweat began to form at his temples and he would occasionally wipe his face and look around him and at the calm faces staring down into occupied laps or up at the back-lit map of the underground.
He just needed to survive three more stops.
His bladder jerked. He jolted. The man next to him looked up quizzically and Justin gave him his best grin. The man looked back down to his phone. Justin shifted, pressing his briefcase a bit harder against his groin as he took deep breaths and shook his leg. His bladder screamed. His sphincter quivered.
“Come on…” he groaned to himself before he lifted himself off the seat and sat back down. The man looked up again and shifted a few inches further away from him.
A small trickle escaped him, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut as he clenched hard cut off the stream before it could do any damage. He could not feel the wetness. Good. But this was getting out of hand. He shifted his hips to the side, sank his hand deep into his pocket and began to fiddle about, looking at all the passengers around him as he did so. He looked like he was searching for something, but what feeling for was already there. With some effort and adjustment, he managed to grab his cock through the cloth of his pocket. He was limp for now, but he thought that maybe, if he could make himself a bit hard, he would be able to keep himself from letting go and losing his dignity and sanity in the process.
And so, he began to stroke slowly and carefully as he leaned against the window and thought about what he loved the most. He thought of Jackie’s breasts and the curves of her hips. He thought of her firm ass and the way her puckered asshole shuddered and twitched when he spread her cheeks. He imagined her smooth-shaven cunt stuffed with large dildos that made her squirt when –
The wetness has spread along his hip before he could properly react. He squeezed his eyes shut and clamped his legs together as he forced his body to stop the flow once again. His bladder protested as he opened his eyes and panted slightly with nervousness. He scanned the faces of those around him, but not one seemed to be paying attention to his predicament. He sniffed the air, but there was no smell. He sank down a little into his seat, his heart still racing wildly at his body’s betrayal. He lifted he briefcase as subtly as he could to inspect the damage. There was a small, dark patch on his hip, but it was barely visible against the blackness of his pants. His cock, fully erect, was far more obvious. He glanced up at the lamp and to the blinking LED lights that represented the stops along the way. Just two more stops, he thought. Just two more.
The last two stops went by with painfully slowness. He continued to struggle but had no more accidents. When he finally came to his stop, he did not waste time. He kept the briefcase in front of him and he dashed off the train, hurrying off the platform and toward the steps that lead to the streets. Fuck. He was three blocks away from home with a dying erection and an overfull bladder. Standing straight relieved some of the pressure and so he got confident. He could make it, he thought. He could walk the three blocks. After all, didn’t movement help? So, he began to walk.
He pushed through the first block and made it to the second, but he could not make it through the third. The pressure was too much. He had a choice now. He could piss himself right there, right then in the street and go home with soggy shoes and drippy pants or he could look for an emergency alley. His bladder convulsed and a bit more piss leaked from him. He groaned, grabbed his crotch and squeezed as he looked around desperately. There, between a convenience store and an old barber shop across the street, he found his salvation.
He sprinted over the road, not even looking at the traffic. A driver honked hard on him and cussed him for his brash movements, but his focus was on the alley. He jumped onto the second sidewalk and dashed into the alley, scrambling toward the dumpster he saw in the distance. He veered behind it and tossed his briefcase to one side before he began to wiggle and jiggle in his best pee-pee dance. He groped the front of his pants desperately, trying his best to grab hold of that tiny, evasive zipper time. His heart was throbbing and his dance was failing. His bladder began protest again, but this time, it would overpowered him.
He tried his best to focus on getting the zip down and on stopping his stream, but the alternation between focus on this or on that made it so hard to stop wetting himself. He couldn’t help it anymore. As soon as he got the zipper open, he began to piss. A stream of piss dribbled down his leg and began to wet his socks as he struggled to get his cock out and pointed in the right direction. He got it out and a huge arc of piss sprayed around him before he could finally focus, spread his leg and aim against the wall. With a hard grunt, his bladder relaxed and the pressure of his stream increased.
He put his head back and closed his eyes, panting and groaning as a ripple of relief shuddered through him and made his nipples harden and his cheeks flush. He found himself, then, moving his fingers up and down his shaft as his pee continued to hiss out of him. He looked down at his cock as it twitched and began to grow just as his stream began to ease. He bit his lip, but he could not deny how wonderful it felt to relieve himself while slowly stroking his erection.
The stream stopped but he didn’t. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back as he continued to move his hand along his fully thickened shaft. He groaned and smiled to himself as he shifted a bit and his shoes squelched in the puddle of his own piss. He knew it was dirty. He knew he could be caught. But frankly, relief never felt so sweet. The bar could wait.
