A Quiet Rural Town....

[Tytn]

Let me set the scene for you.

It is a clear but dark night. Clear skies but no moon, and the stars are clear and visible without much light pollution. It is a significantly rural mountainous area. Out on the roads the landscape is difficult to see without the moon, but a lot of the roads are encompassed with trees at either side. Occasionally you could see gaps with towering mountainsides above you on one side, and the other side may have something similar or drop away into a dark nothingness, with some lights in the distance or occasionally some moving headlights far below. Ahead, only your vehicle headlights to light the way and behind, the red glow of tail lights and then darkness.

Unless another vehicle was passing to give you light, oncoming or behind you.

No cellular service, or patchy until you want to use it, then the bars fade away to the ‘searching’ icon.

The roads were smooth and in reasonable condition. It wasn’t long and flat but undulating as it followed the ground around the valleys and mountains, with sometimes long climbs or descents.

Occasionally you’d see the orange or white lights ahead of a village or town, depending on the size. Sometimes the only thing you’d see is the round speed limit sign warning you were entering a 30 or 40mph zone, some houses and maybe a few parked cars, maybe some junctions but then you are out of them and your vehicle is accelerating hard back up to the national speed limit.

Yesterday it was beautiful weather. A lovely hot 19’c during the day, and as the sun sank away it chilled a bit down to 12c, and by the time the sun had left us to darkness it was a moonless star lit 5c. I started on the coast and took the mountain road cross country back to the motorway from North Gwynedd towards Shrewsbury. It was an extreme road at times, single track, often cattle grids, where my own headlights were quite poor but the main beam was a bright powerful LED light bar that lit up the road, the hedge and ahead for several hundred meters. Vastly better than the regular version, which many vehicles had. Twin 55w headlamps, with 65w twin ‘main beam’.

I arrived in Bala, and set about exploring. For my own reasons. It was quiet. I went to the lake at the far end, back along main street and then back roads looking at the architecture and crammed in buildings in this old Merionethshire town of nearly 2000 people. It had a long main street with a cross roads at one end and the carpark with public toilets. Now locked, I found out later. There weren’t many out socialising but the pubs were open and various patrons stood in doorways chatting, some of them smoking.

In the UK you can’t smoke indoors anymore. Some places have dedicated smoking areas but a lot of pubs just have people outside on benches or in the beer garden smoking there.

At about 8pm a white van drove in, its headlights out of alignment. I passed it one way and felt the driver was on ‘main beam’ but then I saw it was a minibus and the back was loaded down with people. It pulled in near the Spar and a fast food place.

Remembering the works of a key member here and their experiences I turned and pulled around the back of the buildings to head back for ‘another pass’. As I turned the first corner the doors had opened and shapes had streamed out onto the pavement, almost as bodies do that are too large for the vehicle or had been crammed in for a long time. I recalled it was a county college minibus, the words clicked. It was in Welsh and I am not fluent. I know a few words and can pronounce things but that’s about it.

At the back street I drove along to where I thought they were and turned the corner.

What met me was an amazing view.

On both sides of the roadway, just wide enough for one vehicle to pass, figures stood. They wore shorts and jumpers or fleeces but had bare legs, as in a sports team. Most were stood about half a meter back from the wall and splattering waterfalls gushed out to the wall and gutter. As I drove closer, towards them, I saw some heads turn to reveal university student age lads, hands in front and the startled looks, almost a twinge of worry and desperation in there. The nearest to me looked at me, looked back and then down again. His buttocks flexed his thin shorts as he strove to clamp it off, to seal off the full flow hosepipe as it relieved him of his no doubt badly needed piss.

The other side of the road had others, but they were calmer. A head turned, a few words were said but that lad carried on going. His stream was thick and as he moved his hand my headlights picked up that he was quite well endowed as well. He waved a hand in my direction, a palm up as if to stop me, so I stopped, facing them, headlights on.

The first lad looked back at me, then forward, his fist around his crotch, squeezing and holding, and now he tugged his manhood back out and it started to dribble out, then like a tap turning on it went up to full flow again.

Others behind him, between him and the main road, seemed to finish what they were doing, stepped back and adjusting their shorts walked away from their ‘piss’. The one that had to stop seemed to be the last one and again, I saw his shorts quivering but this time as if he was pushing out every last drop. He finally seemed to cease, and flopped it away, a flash of white and then a waved hand as he hurried back to his mates.

I started up, and drove the alley. They were all there, their ages confirmed, and most faces had the exuberant grin of the relieved and excited. They were crowding around the chippy now and an older man, possibly the minibus driver, was handing out a spray bottle of sanitiser for them to rinse their hands with.

I wondered how long they had been waiting for that relief; post game when they had imbibed maybe a few too many ‘hydration drinks’ until they were heading back and the pressure grew. I surmised that the driver had dismissed other options to stop on the outskirts of the town for their ‘relief’ until here and then discovering there weren’t any available.

Having driven the route I knew there were places, some quite large laybys where they all could have had their own private 5m square hole of releif. I wondered how many were desperately holding onto their own aching desperately full bladders, praying they wouldn’t embarrass themselves with their mates and team members by letting go in the van, their muscles, clamped closed, failing…

And then they were stopped in a quaint town, the high street, darkness, no where to go, and the only option was a nearby road to let out the pressure before their precious aching muscles failed, and took their manhood and confidence with it.

Then I had come across them, and it was nearly the end of the line. Until one took control, held his hand up to stop the traffic for the team bonding moment

I noticed afterwards, sitting outside and eating chips and drinking from tins of pop that at least some of them returned to the same roadway to no doubt let a bit more out before they left to get back on the road. Whilst my car is comfortable and I can cope with driving and a full bladder, the minibus seats are a bit more uncomfortable for that, a bit more hard wearing and harder seats, able to transfer the shock loading from imperfections in the road up the seat and straight into aching bodies of their occupants…

[Lee]

Nice. Just imagine letting go, as you put it, on the minibus… wearing a pair of shorts!!

[Tytn]

20 Miles takes about an hour on those roads, because there is a lot of uphill and downhill and if you’ve got a full vehicle it’s gonna be even slower. I could’ve taken a quick road via corwen. It would probably have only taken me 90 minutes compared to the three hours I actually took driving. However, I would’ve missed out on all of those wonderful views and sights.

Even when I got onto flatlands, I had 18 miles left to get to the motorway and that still took me quite a lot of time. They must’ve had a game somewhere, and because of the weather I think they chose not to change out their shorts.

I also suspect anyone who had “had an accident” on the bus could be easily “disguised” in shorts.

When they had initially got off the bus, I had seen a few moving oddly around, grabbing their crotch, but for young men having just got up after a trip they could have other “cramp” issues.

[Fred]

The driver of the van would have known that his passengers urgently needed to empty their bladders, and as pointed out, he could have pulled into a layby where they could have their relief, but he chose to drive into the town where there were public toilets. Was this because of his sense of propriety? Or did he secretly want to prolong seeing these lads desperately clenching their sphincters? And then, the driver was further rewarded when they found the facilities were closed, and the young men had to expose themselves and make their relief very public. I wonder if the van driver joined them, or if he waited until later, when he could have his private pleasure as he recalled this experience.

[BottleBlaze]

This is all such wonderful prose!! Thank you for writing this. This is a great sighting

I really enjoyed this particular quote:

The first lad looked back at me, then forward, his fist around his crotch, squeezing and holding, and now he tugged his manhood back out and it started to dribble out, then like a tap turning on it went up to full flow again.

I'm thinking of writing stories and I feel like a sighting like this can be inspiration! It'd be fun to write a story about a man who dribbles then full thick flow out.

Or about men who get caught and try to stop their flow but they fail to

[Sam70]

Tytn

What a wonderful read. I wonder if any of the lads had a bottle in the mini-bus and whether anyone had to use a bottle?

It would seem strange out on a dark "country" road for the driver to refuse to stop by the side of the road if one lad was really about to have a major accident. Having said that, the lad in question may not have spoken up as we all tend to believe that we can hold it a bit longer.

Also, there is a big difference between one lad peeing out from the side of the mini-bus and all lads trying to do the same.

If there was only one lad who was really going to lose control of his bladder, the other lads could tell the driver that they can wait and let the one lad literally stand in the open door and let it fly.

That can be difficult for all lads to really understand that one lad's situation really is more major and urgent. It is even more difficult for the driver to recognize that there is one lad in real trouble and he can't wait 45 more minutes like the rest of the lads especially if the driver is not desperate.

When the bottle is found and past to the lad who is already leaking, the driver may order the lad not to use the bottle. The driver thinking that the lad would spill some urine and the bus have a few drops of piss on the floor.

Now the driver may be faced with a quart of urine all over the seat and floor of the mini-bus. As happens more often than we sometimes think, the driver begins saying how sorry he is that one of the lads had an accident and if he "had known" that the lad was that desperate, he would have let the lad use the wide mouth bottle he had stored up front.

Exactly how could the driver not have known? The driver is most likely guilty of preconceived notions. The lad in question is being juvenile. Sure he needs to go, but he can hold it. Maybe and maybe not. The lad in question is going to know better than anyone else the state of his emergency.

Also, there is the I went to the toilet before getting in the driver's seat. I am not desperate, therefore no one else could possibly be desperate. If one of the lads didn't pee before getting on the minibus, it is his own fault that he has an accident on the mini-bus. About that puddle?

It may be the driver who will not stop for the lad to pee, but it is the lad wearing pissed pants who is expected to clean up the mini-bus.

Then, there is the lad sitting in pissed pants not saying a word. A few mates pat him on the back and say that it is OK, but it is not OK for the lad in pissed pants. Other lads are also patting him on the back and saying it is OK. They will not mention this again unless the lad brings up the subject first.

But there always is that one smart ass on the mini-bus who will mention this accident every time the lads on on the mini-bus going or returning from a game. If only we could slip a fluid pill or two in the smartass's drink on the way home from a game!

Sam would never do such a thing! Normally no. But if a smart ass is pushing the issue enough to cause continuous extreme embarrassment to the lad who had an accident on the minibus, it would be very tempting to slip one or two fluid pills into his drink.

Meanwhile, there are no toilets open for the lads, so they all take a piss on a wall visible from the road.

Tytn, wonder what would have happened if the driver who was not desperate, announced that there are to toilets available here in this town so the minibus will not stop for lads to relieve themselves until pubic toilets become available! How long on this particular night would the lads have to wait?

The way Tytn described the acts of draining the bladders, there won't be just one lad on the mini-bus wearing pissed pants if public toilets didn't appear very soon!