Danny at the Wedding!

[Lee]

The first time...

“Make sure you don’t go drinking too much in the pub beforehand” advised mum Angela as she applied the finishing touches to her wedding outfit.

“Exactly” added dad Doug, “You don’t want to find yourself wanting to go to the toilet during the church service.”

“That’s right” said his mum, “those old churches don’t have toilets, you know.”

“Oh leave it out you two!” laughed Danny, “you’d think I was a four-year old kid!”

“We’re just being sensible” replied his mum, “I remember your cousin Jake’s wedding, when the best man was standing wriggling and squirming during the ceremony and then he had to ask them to stop for a few minutes so that he could go outside. We all knew what he was going to do but it was such an embarrassing moment.”

“Well he was an idiot then, wasn’t he?” retorted Danny, still grinning at his parents’ advice. “He should have just wee-wee’d his knickers! That would have livened up a boring day!”

“Danny, you can be so crude at times” his mum shook her head despairingly.

Danny laughed out loud “And you’re far too serious, lighten up!”

As his parents finished getting ready, Danny was sitting on the settee admiring his brand new shoes which were sitting on his lap. The tan brogues had cost him big money but he was well pleased with them and had been admiring them in the mirror several times in the previous few days. Dressed in his mid-grey suit with a crisp white shirt and purple tie, he bent down, pulled up his light grey socks and fitted the shoes tightly on each of his feet before once again standing up and admiring himself in the full-length mirror.


An hour later, Danny was in the pub with his cousins as everyone glanced at their watches to see how long they had before they needed to take their places in the church for the wedding ceremony of Reece and Paula.

“Anyone for another quick pint?” asked Danny

“No way mate. I’ve had enough”

“Me too, I’ll need a wee otherwise!”

“Oh not you an’all!” laughed Danny, “You’re worse than my old girl!”

“Well, please yourself mate, but I’d rather not be sitting with crossed legs all afternoon!”

Undeterred, Danny strode up to the bar and ordered himself another cool pint of lager.

“That stuff goes straight through me” said Andy, still sitting at the table

“I know” replied Keith, “but you can’t tell him. He’s thinks he’s Mr. Invincible does our boy wonder. He’ll learn the hard way!”

“Especially if he ends up pissing himself!” sniggered Andy, and they all laughed as confident and cocky Danny strode back, having already downed about a third of the pint on his way.


Ten minutes later they were all getting up to leave for the church which was only about 100 metres away.

“No-one going for a tiddle before we leave?” asked Brian.

“You ought to go Danny” Steve said to his much younger cousin, “you’ve been drinking twice as much as us.”

Surprisingly, Danny agreed with no argument or backchat. “Yeah okay, hold on a sec then.”

“Brave lad” said Keith, as Danny burst into the Gents toilet, “it’s never a good idea to break the seal just before going somewhere without access to a toilet. He should have been going a couple of times before this.”

“Youthful naivety” shrugged Brian.


Fifteen minutes had passed and the congregation were all in their seats as the bridal march started playing on the organ and everyone rose to their feet. The church was old with stone pillars and grey stone flooring which made it feel cold and although it was summer time, there was a chill in the air which had not been apparent in the sunshine outside. The pews were aged and wooden and creaked with movement but there was little space and most of the men relished to chance to stand up to relieve themselves from sitting with their knees pressed against the backs of the rows in front.

Danny was right at the far end of the third row alongside his mum, with his dad next to her. The rest of the row was jammed with other guests and as the pew extended up to the stone wall, Danny had only one exit which would have meant virtually clambering over everyone to get to the other end where the aisle was. Being hemmed in so tightly was not a pleasant experience as there was hardly room to sit comfortably and as everybody rose at the sound of the impending entrance of the bride, 19-year old Danny cursed under his breath as he stood up. Not only was it chilly and uncomfortable but he could feel an un-nerving fullness in his bladder as he rose to his feet.

“Blast!” he cursed, “I feel like I need a piss again!”

There was else nothing for it though, he’d have to last out for the entirety of this damn ceremony and as he stood awaiting the slow walk down the aisle of the bride and her father, Danny deliberately tensed and pulled his tummy muscles in tightly to see just how serious his need was but his heart missed a beat as he realised how full his bladder was.

“Shit! I’m busting!” he told himself and he quickly and anxiously glanced down the row to see how feasible it might be to try and escape. But the fact that the bride was just approaching the aisle made a sneaky exit impossible and before he knew it, they were all being asked to sit down by the vicar.

As Danny’s backside hit the wooden pew, the mini jolt sent a spasm of discomfort echoing up around his stomach.

“How the fuck has this happened?” he asked himself? “I had a piss before I left the pub and yet I feel like I’ve got to go worse than I did before!”


The minutes ticked past as the wedding ceremony got under way and all around the old church there were smiles and lots of quiet sighs of approval as the happy young couple kept looking into each other’s eyes and relishing the pomp and splendour of the service. But at the end of the third row of pews, there were no smiles – just the face of a young man who was in dire need of a toilet!

With every phase of the ceremony seemingly lengthier and slower than the previous bit, Danny was starting to panic about how he was going to last out. His bladder had continued to fill at an alarming rate and whereas before he had been able to feel the twinges and the discomfort whenever he moved, he could now not escape from the constant ache in his tummy. In fact, it was only shifting around slightly that eased the bloated feeling and although he obviously couldn’t stand up, he was alternating his weight from one buttock to the other which momentarily took away the pain.

But that in itself simply added to his predicament in more ways than one. Firstly, moving was okay and eased his aching muscles but as soon he stopped and sat still, the pain returned with a vengeance, seemingly worse than previously. In addition, if he moved too much and put too much weight on the wooden pew, it creaked with age and once or twice he’d been conscious of the creaking noise being apparent to others in the congregation.

Danny desperately wanted to knock his knees together but that would have definitely attracted attention and so he continued to sit, with his hands clasping the front edge of the seat as he gently wriggled and tried to lessen the throbbing sensation.

“Please stand” announced the vicar and as Danny rose to his feet, it was all he could do not to give himself a good firm squeeze to help in his increasingly difficult battle to contain himself. He did not join in the singing of the hymn, nor would he have done so even had he not been needing the toilet so badly, but he was nonetheless following the words on the service sheet as he tried to speed up time. Every few seconds which passed were a bit closer to when he might be able to relieve himself.

As everyone sat back down at the end of the hymn, Danny was panicking in a way he couldn’t previously remember. The bending of his body to re-take his seat was accompanied by a degree of pain that had multiplied ten-fold since the first time he had sat down and he almost winced with the stabbing penetration around his midriff.

“Shit! I’m not going to be able to wait until the end. I’m going to have to get out somehow!”

The dramatic realisation that he was going to do a pee way before the end of the ceremony, regardless of where he was or what he was doing, hit him like a hammer in his chest as the consequences became monumental for him.

“I’ll piss myself if I don’t get out of here!”

That awful admission he had to make to himself was hard to contemplate and caused his panic levels to notch up a few more cranks. To his horror, his tummy muscles contracted and tensed and as the vicar made a light-hearted remark which caused both the wedding party and many of the congregation to smile gently and titter to themselves but suddenly Danny shifted his firmly buttocks backwards so that his lower back was pressed hard against the wooden seat rest. The bench groaned and creaked loudly and even the vicar glanced over in the direction of the noise.

“Danny!” his mum admonished almost under her breath, “Sit still, will you!”

Her son was panic-stricken. “Let me out!” he whispered back in reply.

“What?”

“I’ve got to go to the toilet!” he answered back, virtually mouthing the words rather than saying than them out loud, “I think I’m going to have an accident!”

His mum frowned back at him, but she could see that he was gripping the seat tightly with both hands and sitting with his knees drawn up so that his feet were on tip-toe.

“Danny, you can’t! Don’t you even think about it!” she whispered back but Danny looked to the ceiling and then quickly down to the floor as he groaned “Oh Christ!” and pulled his legs firmly together.

“What is it?” his dad muttered almost silently from left of his mum.

“Danny’s desperate to go to the toilet!” his mum answered, causing his dad to shake his head in apparent disbelief.


During the next five or six minutes, his mum kept discreetly glancing sideways to look at her near 20-year old son who was continually digging the heels of his shoes against the stone flooring and he had one hand clasped against the pit of his belly as he tried to do anything to lessen the intense stabbing pain he was experiencing.

The ceremony was continuing unabated but Danny’s mum was so focused on what her son was doing that she almost missed the prelude to what was intended to be a moment of blissful romantic splendour when a trolley was wheeled down the aisle housing two large baskets of butterflies. The two women pushing the container stopped right at the bottom of the aisle in which Danny and his family were sitting and the box was so big that it filled the entire width of the aisle.

Almost like a drinks trolley on an aircraft which blocks the aisle to any passengers, this was also too wide and too long to let anyone pass and as Danny looked down, past the six or seven people actually blocking his exit to the end of the pew, he knew that his only chance of escape had well and truly gone. The only possible way out would have been to physically climb over everyone and then try to clamber over the cardboard butterfly baskets, no doubt destroying all of the colourful specimens in the process. It simply was an impossibility.

Knowing that he couldn’t get out under any circumstances, his predicament worsened as he sat there and he started to feel the throbbing sensation turning into spasms which were hard to control. His bladder muscles were beginning to contract with every spasm and he felt as if someone was twisting a knife in his belly and around his groin.

Danny was now sitting with his shoulders hunched and his head bowed whilst his thighs and knees were clamped firmly together although his lower legs were apart and his feet were pointing inwards. He knew his posture made him look foolish, almost like a schoolgirl but he couldn’t have cared less at that precise moment in time. He could feel his new shoes rubbing tightly around his lower ankles and at the point of no return, he had little option but to clasp his hand into his crotch area and try to hold himself through his suit trousers.

Next to him, his mum was saying nothing but she was staring in horror and her utter dismay was heightened further when suddenly Danny turned to her and said,

“Mum, I’m going to wet myself!”

The comment was meant to be addressed purely to his mum but in his intense despair he uttered the words slightly louder than he had intended and several others nearby heard his words, including some members of the immediate family of the bride who were sitting in the front row. A few heads turned to look at the origin of the comment and the looks were ones of horror and incredulity.

Right in the very back row, where the other lads who had been in the pub beforehand with Danny had gathered, a sharp-eared member of the congregation had also heard the comment and Andy couldn’t contain his amusement.

“Did he just say he’s going wet himself?”

“Who said that?” asked Keith

“I think it was Danny!”

“No way! Seriously mate?”

“Honestly, he just said ‘I’m going to wet meself!” added Steve.

“I told him, didn’t I?” mumbled Brian, “I told him not to break the seal just before coming in here. I knew he’d be dying to go halfway through!”

“So who did he tell he was going to wet himself?”

“His old girl, I think! How bloody embarrassing!”

“Hey, look at him!”

All the lads strained their necks to try and see a glimpse of Danny but he was hunched down so low that they could only just see the back of his neck above his rounded shoulders.

“Blimey! If he is about to piss his pants, he’s still got half the ceremony to get through yet!”


In the midst of the touching moment when the butterflies were released to flutter around Reece and Paula at the altar, the joyful moment was interrupted by Danny’s low-pitched anguished groan as he lost control of his about-to-burst bladder and started to wet himself.

A few heads turned again his direction as he sunk further into the pew and felt a warm gushing sensation engulfing the cheeks of his bum which had become almost numb from the pressure of sitting on the hard wooden chair. Within seconds a scorching heat was searing all round his cock and balls and spreading underneath him before the pent-up pints of lager released themselves through his pants in a clear and silver torrent to stream all down the backs of his legs.

As the light grey material of his suit trousers began to darken all around his crotch, the ache of his throbbing bladder momentarily intensified before easing off as he urinated, without control, with the force of a tsunami, into his underpants and all down his legs. Danny was gasping between emitting little irregular breaths and the relief from his agonising stomach pain began to kick in. He had absolutely no control over the torrential jets pouring down his legs and as his suit trousers became unable to contain the volumes of water-like urine, the torrents began to splash loudly onto the stone flooring, splattering between his shoes and firing onto the concrete to add to the ever-growing puddle around his feet.

Sitting next to him, his mum had her hands covering her cheeks but her eyes were fixated on her son’s trousers which were turning ever-darker with wetness and she could see the trickles and dribbles running down the legs of his suit and cascading onto the floor of the church. As she looked down at Danny’s feet she could see streaks of darkness all over the tops and sides of his tan brogue shoes but she also saw the astonishing sight of his light grey socks gradually turning a darker shade as his socks soaked up the hot urine which was running down his ankles.

His dad was leaning forwards and watching in total silence as his son disgraced himself and others in the congregation could hear the splashing sound and realised that someone was wetting themselves. Even at the altar, the vicar was looking over in astonishment and both the bride and groom glanced back as they heard the pitter-patter sound of water hitting the flooring.

“Jesus, he’s pissing himself!” mumbled Keith in the back row.

“No way!” whispered Andy, “he’s actually wetting his pants!”

“I told you!” repeated Brian, “what a prat to break the seal, he’s wet himself!”


The flow into Danny’s trousers and pants began to subside and almost instantly the warmth began to turn clammy and clingy. As he looked down at himself he could see the dark wetness all over his lap and all down both of his legs whilst beneath his bum he was sitting in a cooling puddle of sticky unpleasantness. Little trickles were still weaving their way down his legs and he could feel drips from behind his knee as his piss-soaked suit trousers were weighed-down by the heaviness of the saturation.

Danny peered at the stone flooring where a huge puddle was shimmering and trickling on the uneven concrete slabs and as urine continued to drip off the front of the wooden pew, little droplets fell into the pool, creating a mini-ripple-like effect as each one dripped in turn. His new shoes were stained and streaked with wetness and his sodden socks, which had sagged slightly around his ankles, were now almost entirely dark-grey in colour.

Danny was trembling, both with relief and in shock and he could scarcely believe that he’d wet himself as a 19-year old, only weeks away from his twentieth birthday. He sat near-motionless for the remainder of the ceremony as his white cotton briefs clung wetly and stickily to him and his thin trousers were plastered to his legs right down as far as his ankles.

The rest of the service was conducted in an atmosphere of sullenness as the vicar seemed intent on getting through as quickly as possible and there was still a sense of awkwardness and embarrassment throughout the congregation. Some knew full well that Danny had wet himself whilst numerous others knew that someone had had an accident, but weren’t entirely sure who it had been.

As the bride and groom finally turned to walk proudly out of the church as husband and wife they both glared in Danny’s direction as they walked down the aisle and as the families followed behind them, one of Paula’s brothers looked over at Danny and said “You bloody idiot!”

There were still plenty of guests in the church when Danny, prompted by his dad, stood up and there were a few gasps of horror as people saw the young lad’s trousers, soaked from top to bottom, and revealing if they didn’t know already that it was Danny who had wet his pants during the ceremony.

His dad put his hand firmly on the lower part of his son’s back and urged him along the row, with his mum standing watching, and Danny feeling his cold and wet pants releasing more cold dribbles to trickle down his legs. His suit trousers were stuck to his wet legs like glue whilst his socks squelched inside his tight shoes and he left a trail of wet footprints behind him.

No-one said a word until they were all outside and most of the guests were still looking in horrified silence but the bride’s brother, who had snapped at him as they were coming out, made straight for Danny again, this time accompanied by Paula’s father.

“You buffoon!” barked her brother, “how can you wet yourself like that? How bloody old are you?”

Paula’s father was less aggressive but his remark was equally as cutting

“You a fool lad, you’ve ruined the wedding day by wetting yourself. Paula’s very unhappy because people are going to remember you more than her when they look back at today. You should be ashamed, doing that at your age.”

They both walked away leaving Danny’s mum to suggest to his dad,

“Take him home, just get him out of here as quickly as possible.”

As they sat in the car in silence, Danny was still mortified about what he’d done but he was equally as confused about why it had happened?

“I don’t get why I had to piss like that? I went just before I left the pub. It came on worse than I have ever known it before? What the bloody hell made me do it in my pants?”

[Fred]

Although "breaking the seal" has little solid medical basis, it's true that if you have drunk enough in a relatively short period of time to need to pee, relieving yourself just once isn't going to be enough. Your kidneys will continue in high gear for a while after, and if you don't have a very large bladder - and apparently Danny fits that category - you will need another pee shortly. In this case, before the wedding ceremony is over. Other guests may have consumed a little less and had larger bladders, so holding it was not a problem for them. I note that his pub buddies were at the rear of the chapel and would have been able to make a hasty exit if they had felt the need.

Basic math: You can't fit two pints into a one-pint bladder.

[Brian]

This is brilliant as always! That advice both parents and friends were giving Danny beforehand was serious, wasn't it? This really can happen, and when you're sitting there in that creaky church pew on the couple's special day you really can't just walk out if you've had a pint too many. Reminds me of a young guy years ago who could easily have been Danny himself at my partner's sister's wedding having to take some emergency action just before the wedding service because he had to pee and knew he could not last out till it was over. If he'd ignored the signals until the bride was walking up the aisle like Danny did, the same thing could have happened to him. (Though there weren't any boxes of butterflies blocking the exit at that particular wedding.)

Poor Danny. I hope people weren't too hard on him afterwards even if he did upstage the couple's special day.

[Dontpissitaway]

Poor lad! I can just imagine that horrifying feeling of getting very desperate very quickly, and then the eventual, awful realisation that everyone around you is gonna see and hear you wet yourself and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it. Would pay anything to witness a guy in a situation like this.

[Adrian6970]

Well done, Lee. Another fantastic Danny story. Danny never seems to learn, does he? Was Dawn, his girlfriend, there? If she was, I wonder what she made of it? In the old days weddings used to last about 30 minutes but with all the extra bits and pieces they do nowadays, 45-50 minutes isn't uncommon, although it depends to a degree on the officiating clergyperson. I say that with feeling as a long suffering bell ringer who has to sit through several weddings a year, albeit usually several feet above where the congregation are. So far I haven't witnessed any wettings at weddings but I've known occasions when it's been pretty clear that people have needed to go to the toilet. On one occasion I stumbled across a bloke peeing like a racehorse against the side of the building after the ceremony. When challenged he said "But there aren't any toilets" which, in those days, was probably true, although there were public houses in the vicinity which had facilities. Either that didn't occur to him or he simply felt he had to make his mark.

[Dazza88]

Absolutely cracking story as usual, nice one fella and thanks.

[Aquarius]

Knowing that he couldn’t get out under any circumstances, his predicament worsened as he sat there and he started to feel the throbbing sensation turning into spasms which were hard to control. His bladder muscles were beginning to contract with every spasm and he felt as if someone was twisting a knife in his belly and around his groin.

Danny was now sitting with his shoulders hunched and his head bowed whilst his thighs and knees were clamped firmly together although his lower legs were apart and his feet were pointing inwards. He knew his posture made him look foolish, almost like a schoolgirl but he couldn’t have cared less at that precise moment in time. He could feel his new shoes rubbing tightly around his lower ankles and at the point of no return, he had little option but to clasp his hand into his crotch area and try to hold himself through his suit trousers.

I love of all of it, but this bit especially was absolutely fantastic. I wet myself a few times before (the stories are on here), and this part describes so clearly what I felt right before it started happening that it reads like my own experience. The level of detail makes it fantasticly realistic.
Absolutely brilliant writing!

[Lee]

Thanks, what a nice comment.