Nathan's Unfortunate Morning

[randomoneX]

Long Time Reader First Time Writer!

Please let me know what you think of this, and if you'd like part 2. I have it all planned out and will finish it off if you enjoy it!

***

PART ONE - AWAKE

As he drifted back into consciousness, the first thing that Nathan felt was a pounding in his head. The second, was a pounding in his bladder.
Last night had been his first work Christmas night out. Nathan had started his teaching career in September, and so had only been at the school a matter of months. He didn’t know his colleagues very well yet; he was only 22 and the rest of the English department was varying degrees of ‘a bit older’ than him. A shy, introvert at heart, he had used the tried and tested method of getting absolutely drunk to loosen up and get to know his workmates some more. It had worked, helped by the fact that as well as being funny and kind, he was tall, fairly muscular with medium length, dark brown curls and deep blue eyes. Or, to put it simply, beautiful.

He'd gotten to the train to the town they were having the night out; it was a thirty-minute journey from the train station handily located just a ten minute walk from his flat. By half two in the morning, he was down five pints of cider, three double vodka and cokes, four shots of tequila, one other drink whose name evaded him, one pizza and lastly a 500ml bottle of water from the same takeaway (a trick he’d picked up at uni to take the worst edge of the hangover). He was just about to find a taxi that would have cost him an eye-watering forty quid to get him home when one of his colleagues, Jane, offered him a bed at her house. It turns out her eldest two had left home for university and she had plenty of space. Plus in the morning, she’d drop him off at the station when she took her youngest to football. Nathan didn’t know Jane that well, but the prospect of saving £40 and being tucked up in bed in a matter of minutes was too good of an offer to turn down.

And so after a patchy night’s sleep Nathan lay awake now, at 6:20, in a small box room in an unfamiliar house. Christ, his head hurt. And his mouth was dry. He saw a pint glass filled with water on the bedside table and presumed that was for him. At this point, he didn’t care and he drank greedily from it. As he sat up to snatch the glass, his bladder reminded him that it also needed dealing with, and fairly urgently.
He lay back down. He listened out, but could hear no sounds of movement from the rest of the house. Presumably they were all still asleep. He placed his hands down his slim frame and onto his bladder, which was hard and protruding slightly, to try learn a bit more about how urgent his need was. His bladder was full – uncomfortably full. That was for sure.

He poked his head around the corner of his door and saw the landing of the Victorian terraced house in which he found himself staying the night and counted six oak doors – all closed. He desperately wanted to find the bathroom and relief himself but he didn’t know behind which of the doors it was, and he was mortified at the thought of walking into someone’s bedroom and walking them up at this time in the morning. He’d have to wait.
He lay there, trying to pass the time, but try as he might all thoughts returned to his full bladder. Had he peed when he got into the house? He couldn’t have done, or else he’d know where the bathroom was. OK – so when had he last peed? He hadn’t peed *just* before he left, so when was it? He definitely had at least *one* piss at the night club, he remembered the toilets there being way too small for a venue of that size and had found himself peeing shoulder-to-shoulder with two other lads, something that normally he’d be way to shy to do however he was drunk and desperate and so …

He ended that train of thought abruptly, coming to the realisation that trying to calculate when his last piss was wasn’t going to help him actually have his next one any quicker. In fact, it was making him need it even more. He had to distract himself from his full bladder, somehow. He turned onto his side, stifling a little groan as his bladder clenched as his moved, and closed his eyes. If he could just sleep a little, once everyone was up he could have a massive piss and everything would be all right again. Being on his side helped, a little. His bladder had more room to stretch out, and the dull ache abated just a little, enough to allow his eyes to stay shut. He tried to empty his mind and just sleep again.
It must have worked, as the next thing he knew, he saw Jane’s head sticking out from around the door. “Morning!” she half-whispered, respecting the fact his head was very worse for wear. “Come on, I’ll drive you round to the station.”

Nathan sat up gingerly, taking care not to put any more pressure on his overworked bladder and looked at his phone. 8:30. Fucking hell – almost another two hours?! How had he managed that?

He noticed Jane walk off. Normally he’d be too shy to ask to use the loo as a conversation opener but fucking hell he needed to piss badly. He stood up and called after Jane as she strode off along the hallway, “Morning, erm please could I just use your toilet?”.
As he said the words, his bladder began getting ready for its imminent relief and Nathan could feel the pressure building yet further, and as an unconscious reflex he pinched the end of his dick through his jeans.

Jane didn’t stop walking; she carried on and headed downstairs, casually breaking Nathan’s heart, “Dan’s just got in the shower. He’ll be ages. Look, I’ve got to get Sam to football, we’re already running late. Are you alright just using the loos at the station?”.
Nathan froze. Jane didn’t even wait for a reply. It didn’t even enter her thought process that this tall, handsome young man was so desperate for a wee it was now all he could think about.

Nathan felt a sick, sinking feeling that was quickly overtaken by the rhythmic pounding of his bladder. He was incredibly uncomfortable, and he was the most desperate for a piss he’d ever been as a grown man. He was just starting to feel the beginnings of panic, but he talked himself round. He was young and healthy, of course he could wait another ten or fifteen minutes. Grown men don’t end up pissing themselves. It just doesn’t happen.

[Brian]

Welcome to the select group of readers here who actually post, and thanks so much for a wonderful piece of writing.

That's quite a novel scenario - the unfamiliar house.

You bet I'd like to see part 2 and know what happens to Nathan next!

[bodgyuk]

Definitely would like the part 2 - I've been in a slightly similar situation in a strange house and although I knew where the bathroom was, the thought of disturbing everyone to use it after they had gone to bed made me have to wait until the morning. In my case I still didn't get to use it when everyone woke up as it was straight out the door and off to the airport. Although once there I did make use of the facilities!

[klads]

Great intro to poor Nathan’s awkward situation. It’s almost embarrassing as a young guy to have to ask to use the bathroom in someone else’s house, I know I hate having to ask.
I love the set up for this. Will he make it on time to a toilet? As he is waiting to get to one on the journey will he think back to other close calls or accidents he has had?

[stoner420]

That was such a good start to the story! So hot!

[randomoneX]

Thanks for the positive comments!

Here is part 2 of 3 ...

***

PART TWO - THE STATION

Nathan descended the staircase slowly, each step causing his stretched bladder to send a wave a pain across his midriff. He stood by the door awkwardly, wishing his ordeal to be over. There was a toilet right now, just metres away from him, and he couldn’t use it. The thought was driving him slightly mad.

He stood by the front door like a spare part while Jane and her son Sam frantically gathered their things. Each time they passed him he attempted an awkward smile, hoping that his attempt at a calm façade wasn’t betraying the increasing sense of desperation that was growing inside his bladder. Eventually, Jane opened the front door and they headed to the car.

Nathan squeezed himself into the back of Jane’s three-door fiesta. At 6ft 3, it would have been uncomfortable at the best of times but in his current predicament it was absolute agony. The journey to the station was only about ten minutes, but they were some of the most tortuous moments of his life.

He didn’t want to reveal his desperation to Jane, but he also couldn’t sit still. He jiggled his legs up and down rhythmically, trying to provide his body with some much needed distraction from the pounding in his bladder. He desperately wanted to squeeze his willy but he couldn’t bring himself to do that here so instead he simply gripped the sides of his seat as tightly as he could, eventually making his knuckles turn white.

“Here we go!” proclaimed Jane as the car finally entered the train stations drop-off area. “You just need to walk in through – oh! Are you alright?” Jane caught a glimpse of Nathan through the rear view mirror and saw the young lad grimacing, legs bouncing, sweat forming on his forehead.
“Yeah,” he replied, feeling his face flush, “Just that journey making my hangover worse.”
“Get yourself to back to bed when you get in! Oh and the toilets are right ahead there.” She added.
“Thanks,” Nathan added, “and thanks for the lift”.

Nathan awkwardly exited the car and immediately began a brisk walk towards the direction of the toilets. He wanted to run – fuck, did he want to run – but there was no way he could. Even now, every careful and calculated step was like a dagger in his bladder. How could he have let himself get into this state?

Squinting, he could make out the sign saying “toilets”. He picked up his pace as much as he could, and as he stepped closer and closer towards the toilet door his bladder once again began to anticipate the upcoming relief and the pressure, which Nathan assumed was already at its maximum, began to increase rapidly towards a point he didn’t think was actually possible.

He pushed on the toilet door, and it didn’t move. He pushed again. Nothing. He moved his head around in panic, his breathing laboured. He slammed the door with both hands but again it stubbornly refused to move. The pressure now in his bladder was at a crescendo, and to stop himself loosing control right there and then he doubled over and shoved both hands onto his dick, squeezing as hard as he could. After a few seconds, he teetered back from the metaphorical cliff edge of actually having an accident in his pants, and he became aware of how ridiculous he must look to any passers-by. He straightened up and clocked the sign detailed the opening hours of the toilet, which opened at 10am on a Sunday. The time currently was five to nine.

He stepped back and began pacing up the platform, almost on instinct. He needed to think. This was getting serious now. He had to urinate – soon. Very, very soon. He remined himself – again – that grown-ups didn’t piss themselves. Of course not. But he was getting to the realisation that he wasn’t going to be able to continue with his day as planned. His train was at 9:30. Could he wait that long, and just usen the toilet on the train? He went through it in his head. Half an hour. Well he wasn’t going to wet himself – surely – but it would be extremely uncomfortable. As a teacher, just going somewhere in public, like in a bush, was just out of the question. So he came to the decision that he’d have to try and find another toilet.

But where? He sat down, legs still jiggling frantically, and tried to run through the options logically in his head. There were no shops open at this time in the morning, so that wouldn’t work. Ok so what the fuck else did that leave? He gave an exasperated sigh and looked around. There was no one else at the station that he could see, so back his hand went to his willy. The freezing cold December air, which was causing his bladder to tighten further, had made his willy shrink and he struggled to get a grip on it through his jeans, which only added to his embarrassment. He pinched it over and over, in a futile attempt to distract himself from the desperate fullness of his bladder.

A thought came. Surely there’d be a staff toilet here. He could use that! But he’d have to ask – to tell another human adult who he didn’t know that he needed the toilet. The thought was hideously embarrassing to him. Did he have to do THAT? He looked at his watch. 9:02. Was time fucking standing still? With frustration he realised that yes, yes he did have to do that. He was actually starting to doubt his capacity to be able to wait until the train came at 9:30. This was ridiculous. Half an hour seemed such a small unit of time in the grand scheme of things. Could he need the toilet that badly that he couldn’t wait half an hour? He shifted in his seat and a wave of desperation burst out from his poor, distended bladder. He felt the pit of his stomach drop as finally the awful realisation dawned on him. He couldn’t wait any more.

Nathan stood up and did the same deliberate, calculated walk as before but this time towards the ticket office. He could see a woman being served at the desk and he took his place behind her, bobbing up and down trying to keep the urgent need to urinate at bay. He was actually starting not to care what he looked like now, which for him was quite unbelievable. He closed his eyes – in case that somehow helped He couldn’t see the person working in the booth; he hoped it would be a kindly old lady who’d let him just nip to the staff toilet. He’d go in, lock the door, face the bowl and unzip his jeans, pull his little cold willy out and just blast in the most – “Can I help?”
Nathan opened his eyes. Have I actually been fantasising about urinating? He felt his hand on his groin. Have I got a – “Hi, can I help?”
Pull yourself together! He thought. Can my need to piss be that bad that I actually can’t think straight?
He walked up the ticket desk and looked at the member of staff behind it. He must have been a similar age to Nathan – early twenties, dark facial hair, slim built but muscular arms and a top-knot on his head. The sinking feeling in his stomach doubled as he thought Do I actually have to tell the most beautiful man in the world that I need the toilet?

“Hi,” Nathan started, “sorry but do you have a toilet I could use?”
There, it was said now, it was in the open, and this would all be over soon and he could go home and get on with his day, thank you.
“Yeah sure, they’re just out back where you came, on platform 1.” came the beautiful man’s unintentionally-less-than-helpful reply. Great – further explanation needed.
“Yeah I’ve tried them but they’re locked. They don’t open until 10” Nathan said.
“Oh right,” said the man, thinking, “Well its less than an hour, can you wait that long?”
Oh fucking hell Nathan thought. I can answer this truthfully and hope the ground swallows me up, or I can lie and piss myself. Amazing.
For a few awkward seconds Nathan actually mulled that choice over, and face reddening once more, he went for the first option.
“Sorry no I can’t” he added, without elaboration “Do you have one I could use?”.
“Oh I’m really sorry I can’t let you use ours. I’d let you, but its security. I know you’re not gonna do anything but if I got caught letting you I’d get in the neck, yeah?” The gorgeous man chuckled slightly; Nathan wanted to smile and reciprocate but he shocked even himself by blurting out “But I’m bursting!”.
That bombshell hung in the air for the few second, neither man knowing really what to say or do next. Nathan remained rooted to the spot, shifting his weight from foot to foot and kneading his cock. “I’m bursting!” He blurted out again, in sheer and utter desperation. He wanted the ground to swallow him up, but more than that he really, really just wanted a wee.

“I’m so sorry I can’t let you use it. When’s your train?” The man said, eventually finding the words to take the conversation forwards.
“Half nine” Nathan replied through gritted teeth.
“Oh there you go, only about twenty minutes!” the man offered, generously rounding down 25 minutes to 20 for Nathan’s imagined benefit. “I’m sure your train will have a toilet.”
The words “I can’t wait that long!” were on the tip of Nathan’s lips but he mustered up what fragments of his dignity he’d clung on to and muttered something like “Ok thanks” and gingerly walked off towards the seat he’d been in before.

He sat there, spread his legs and unbuckled his tan leather belt, trying anything – anything - to let his bladder expand and ease this throbbing pressure. As he started at the large station clock and its Roman Numerals he thought about the man’s words.
I’m sure your train will have a toilet.
What the fuck did that mean?!

***

The conclusion, part 3, should be ready later this week...

[Brian]

Love the description of Nathan's embarrassment, and the dialogue with the beautiful station employee is really wonderful. Your writing is brilliant.

[randomoneX]

I couldn't wait for part 3, so I've stayed up to get it done! I hope you find the conclusion satisfying.

***

PART THREE - THE TRAIN

The words echoed around Nathan’s head. I’m sure your train will have a toilet. Why not just say, “You can use the train’s toilet”? Did some of these trains actually not have toilets? The journey was, in rail-terms, quite short. Twenty minutes from this station, where the train started, to Nathan’s station. And did it actually go much further? If it didn’t, would they just not bother putting a toilet in? Surely not? Not in 2024! But this was two small towns in the North East – hardly a bustling metropolis.

Nathan’s mind went back and forth and he began working himself up into a panic. He stood up – he didn’t know why – and began to pace the platform as if to will time itself to hurry up. It had reached quarter past 9 and although he was in agony, and quite a dishevelled state with his belt loosened and legs jiggling, he was trying to reassure himself that this was doable. Fifteen minutes was manageable. Of course it was. Again, he reassured himself that he couldn’t wet himself. It was one of those things that just *didn’t* happen to people. Unless you were drunk. Or ill maybe. And he was here in the prime of health, sober enough (hangover aside) and this was all going to be fine. Fucking uncomfortable – but fine. He sat back down, took out his phone, opened TikTok and mindlessly doom scrolled through the ‘for you’ section, willing the time away.

Time passed at a speed so slow Nathan thought he’d been slowed down by some temporal phenomenon. He couldn’t comprehend how, say a 15 minute drive to work could pass so quickly and yet now, when he needed it the most, time was dragging its heels. As time passed, more people arrived at the station and a small crowd was now waiting for this, the first train of the morning. Somehow, eventually, 9:30 arrived. But it brought with it no train.

Nathan stood up again – he felt like he’d done this a thousand times since his need became acute and it was blazing agony every time. He slowly, methodically paced the platform. Where the fuck was this train. Didn’t they know – he was desperate for a piss here! 9:01 – nothing. 9:02 – nothing. Nathan felt himself growing increasingly hot, which was quite the achievement considering the chill December air couldn’t have been more than 3 or 4 degrees. The effort of clenching his bladder tightly shut was causing his whole body to tense, and in turn sweat was now starting to bead on his forehead, down his back and around his balls giving him the uncomfortable sensation of dampness in his pants.

At 9:03 Nathan was considering have to speak to the beautiful man again and degrade himself further when – what a sight to behold – a worn out pacer train screeched its way up the platform where Nathan stood, its screaming brakes signalling an upcoming end to this torture. As the train stopped and the doors opened, Nathan stepped on and was the first person on the empty carriage. He threw his bag down to claim a seat and began stalking the aisle to find the toilet. Of course it hadn’t been at the end of the carriage he’d entered. No, that would have been far to simple on a day where everything was making his life harder than it needed to be. All he wanted to do was urinate – not much to ask for, he felt. Just a couple of minutes to be allowed to pull out his dick, relax his whole body and let the relief rush out –

He was doing it again – fantasising about pissing. As he did, the pressure in his bladder once again began to grow with alarming pace. Nathan legitimately didn’t realise that a human could need a piss this badly. He couldn’t conceive of it – he’d never felt like this before. He’d been desperate for a piss before – who hadn’t? – but always found relief before now. Today was something else.

All this was circling his head as he headed towards the centre of the carriage, where the toilet should be. And there it was – he could see it! Blessed relief was in sight! A small group of people were entering by the middle doors of the train. It occurred to him if he’d only got on the middle doors of the train, he could be in there now emptying his bladder. His direct path was blocked as an elderly couple turned right to find a seat, the man dragging a suitcase behind him. Normally Nathan would have helped the man - maybe put his suitcase up on the luggage rack for him – but today, right now, he just needed the old bastard to get the fuck out of his way. Manners be damned, Nathan pushed past the couple, to their obvious annoyance. “Fuck them!” he thought to himself. And then in the next split second, “No, it’s not their fault, I’ll apologise after.” But that slight delay of just seconds had meant that Nathan could now only stand, open-mouthed, as a lad who looked about 18 dressed into a tracksuit stormed onto the train, past Nathan, and right into the toilet.

The old-fashioned, faded toilet lock clicked over from ‘vacant’ to ‘occupied’ and Nathan’s world collapsed. The first thing to hit him was the injustice. He’d been waiting! He got on first! It should be him in there, getting to piss, not this bastard! The second thing to hit him was crippling wave of desperation. He doubled over again and shoved his hands into his groin, in genuine fear that he was going to urinate in his pants, and made in involuntary “oooooooooo” sound at the pain around his bladder and at the base of his dick.

Just seconds, he tried to tell himself. This fucker will get his piss then I’ll have mine in just a few seconds.
He tried to stand back upright but couldn’t. He stood there outside the toilet cubicle, bent over, hands on his dick, breathing in and out heavily in deep, laboured breaths.
“Are you alright mate?” Nathan looked up and a train manager stood before him. He was a young lad himself, didn’t look more than 20, clean shaven and he wore a kind expression of concern on his handsome face.
Dignity no longer mattered. All that mattered was this wee – this massive, desperate, all-encompassing wee that just HAD to get out of him. What to say though, exactly? There were a number of ways he could phrase it but before he could settle on something more articulate he heard himself blurt out, “I need a wee”.

He’d never felt so embarrassed, but paradoxically he also didn’t care. All that mattered now was getting this piss out. The rest could be dealt with after.
“Yeah I can see that mate, are you OK though?”
The man was just trying to be nice but Nathan’s frustration and panic began to boil over and as he couldn’t relax his bladder, he relaxed his mouth just spoke his mind for the first time all day. “No! I’m absolutely desperate! I’ve been waiting for ages, for so long, I really really need to go! Please!” He gestured at the locked door, helplessly, not even sure himself what he was trying to convey. “Please!” He begged, “Please!”
“OK, look,” the manager began, taken aback by the sight of this smartly dressed, handsome young man in an absolute panic over using the toilet, “whoever is in there will be out in a minute, yeah, and you can go, no problem, yeah?”.
Nathan looked back at him, grateful for the reassurance, and could mouth back “yeah, yeah” as he stood still doubled-over, still shifting from foot-to-foot, and still clenching his poor little willy like it would fall off if he ever let go.

The manager side-stepped past Nathan and tried to give him a reassuring smile but it came off pretty weak, and Nathan returned it equally weakly. Nathan remained in front of the toilet, and took one hand out of his groin and placed it on the wall and slowed his breathing like he’d learned when he briefly dabbled with mindfulness. He could feel himself starting to panic and he had to relax a bit. Slowly he breathed, in and out, as the train manager inspected the tickers of the small number of other passengers. But as he tried to calm his body somewhat, without warning, he felt a little jolt of hot piss burst out of his dick and into his pink CK boxers. His eyes widened. Did that just happen? He looked down at his black jeans and there, if you looked hard enough and in the right like, was a little wet patch. It couldn’t have been bigger than a twenty pence piece, but it was there alright.

Full blown panic took over now. He couldn’t wait any more, clearly. It had to be now. At the same time, the manager returned to where Nathan stood.
“Are they not out yet?” The man asked, somewhat puzzled at the length of time the passenger who’d just beaten Nathan to the sanctuary of the toilet was taking. He turned to Natahn, “How are you holding up?”
“I’m going to wee myself!” Nathan announced, unintentionally to the whole carriage. “I can’t hold it, please, I’m gonna wee myself!”
“Shit!” Muttered the guard under his breath, as he pounded on the door of the toilet. “Are you nearly done in there? Can you hurry up please, we’ve got an emergency out here!”
Tears filled Nathan’s eyes as it dawned on him that he’d just yelled that he was going to wee himself to entire carriage. Eyes were on him now, not a huge number – maybe 7 or 8 other people had boarded the train that day - but enough act as witness to Nathan’s humiliation.
“Please!” Nathan added again, pleading with the man in the toilet, “Please! I can’t hold it in, I can’t hold it!!”
The manager looked at Nathan, trying to stay calm but feeling the panic oozing off him, “We get this, they hide in the toilets on short journeys so they don’t need to pay. Come on mate, get out, there’s someone here needs the toilet!”.
“Please!” Nathan said, for what felt like the millionth time, clutching at anything he could think of “I’ll pay for your ticket! Please, anything, just let me in, I’m bursting! I’m gonna burst! I can’t hold it in!”

The door didn’t move. Nathan felt his whole lower half go numb – no longer aching or pulsating but now a numbness that seemed strange after the past few hours of desperation. Then he felt his foreskin balloon around the tight grip he had on his willy, and then – POP - the warmth. It started with the tip of his dick and then it spread quickly to his balls and then it moved to his left leg, following the direction his penis was pointing in his boxer shorts. He looked at the train guard in disbelief. “I’m doing it!” He whispered. “I’m weeing myself!”. All of his strategies had come to nothing as he stood there unable to stop the torrent of hot urine gushing forth from him now.

The train manager mouthed “oh no!” as Nathan’s left leg became saturated, and then a stream formed down his right leg next. His left sock became soaked, and his shoe, and then the overflow combined with the rivulets from his leg and pooled on the cold train floor, forming a puddle that began to snake towards the other passengers. Seconds passed and still the urine poured forth. As mortified as he was, this relief was incredible. Indescribable.

After around thirty seconds, he could have stopped the flow if he wanted to, but the damage was well and truly done now. And he didn’t want this relief to end. He closed his eyes, sighed and he let it continue; the stream of piss building to a torrent pouring through his boxers and out onto his jeans. There wasn’t a dry inch on his lower half now, but still the piss came, cascading down his legs in a joyous warmth.

After what felt like an eternity, but was in reality around two minutes, the stream slowed and Nathan opened his eyes to stares from his fellow passengers, and a pitiful look on the face of the train manager.
“I’m sorry,” Nathan managed, “I couldn’t hold it! I … I …”
“It’s OK mate,” The man with the kind face comforted, “it’s not your fault. Sit down.”
Nathan did.
“How long until you get off?”
Nathan pulled his phoned out his pocket, which was now also covered in hot piss.
“About 15 minutes”
“OK, not long mate, then you get yourself home and cleaned up, yeah?”
“Yeah” Nathan managed.

Nathan sat, unable to comprehend the events of this morning. Not least of which was why he hadn’t stopped when he could have. And why he seemed to now be sporting a serious erection under his wet jeans.


***

I have lots more stories plotted out in different scenarios with different types of lads. I hope to start some next week!

[Lee]

Wow, just wow! That is totally my sort of story. What an absolute treat to find such a story on here. They’ve been so rare in recent months. The biggest compliment I can pay you is that that is one of the best stories I’ve read. I love not just the desperation, but the fact that Nathan actually wets himself and vocalises it too.

What a story! It’s got the lot!

[bodgyuk]

Very very hot. My kind of story too.