Getting Wet in the Car

Brandon's bladder throbbed, pressing heavily down between his legs. He clenched his muscles to strengthen his resistance as he gazed forward out the windshield. "Damn," he murmured. "I really drank a lot of water before we left."

"You really did." His boyfriend Andre sounded calmly amused. This pretense was all part of the exciting charade. "You're very well hydrated."

"Can we stop? I...no, never mind, it's okay." He squirmed, trying to find a position that would make his bulging bladder ache less.

Andre sent him a wicked glance. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Only I..." Brandon felt the heat of a genuine blush in his face. He lowered his glance as if flustered (because the shyness was part of the game too), and pressed his thighs together. "I'd like to...to take a break, is all."

"Are you trying to tell me you need to pee?"

"A man would say he needed to 'piss'," Brandon returned, because he always had to include a little bit of attitude.

"Well. A man could hold it longer, then." Smiling, Andre continued driving the lovely coastline road.

"But...please, I...look, I've actually had to go ever since we set out an hour ago. I'm..." Blushing deeper, Brandon bit his lower lip a moment. "I'm kind of getting desperate," he said in almost a whisper. "I might...um..."

"Pee in your pants? I doubt it. You're a fine, strong grown man."

"Even a grown man will piss his pants if he doesn't have the chance to stop and piss outside them," Brandon pointed out.

"You'd better sit on that towel, then. Won't have you doing that to my seats, and I'm not stopping for at least another twenty minutes." Andre nodded toward the large green towel in the back seat.

"But - oh, fine." Brandon fetched it, folded it till it was a thick bundle large enough to cover the whole seat, and stuffed it under his rear. "Though if I completely lose control, I bet it'll soak directly through this."

"Then you'd better not. The towel's just for any little leaks that might happen. You'll have to wait to let out the rest."

"I - all right, I can wait. I'll try."

The asking permission and the denial of it were also part of the erotic thrill, and Brandon's cock was already hard. Not that this would keep back the accident that was inevitable any minute now, given how desperately he had to pee.

Indeed, barely another minute had passed before the urge swept down, overpowered his muscles, and pushed a few drops of pee all the way out of his cock. He inhaled swiftly and clutched himself, with both hands between his legs. There, he had stopped the flow. The drop had only wet his underwear. Andre didn't have to know.

"Move your hands," Andre said in suspicion.

Brandon lifted them to show his dry crotch. "See? It's fine."

Then the car hit a bump that jostled his bladder beyond help, and he had to grip his groin again in utter desperation. To no avail this time: oh God, he was pissing, only for a few seconds before he stopped again, but far more leaked out of him than it had the first time. He felt the wet warmth seep through the fabric of his pants, against his palms. The material was light tan and would show the stain easily. He kept his hands placed to hide the wet patch, mortified (yet aroused) that he hadn't been able to hold on longer. He tried to breathe normally while struggling to hold back the rest of his urine.

"Ah-ah," Andre chastised. "Hands away. Let me see."

"Having my hands here helps me hold it," Brandon tried - which wasn't a lie.

"Let me see. Hands on the sides of your seat and no moving them anymore. They stay there till I say so."

After a moment of accepting the delicious shame, Brandon uncovered his wet groin and set his hands on the sides of the seat, and clutched them there as if it would help him control his bladder.

"Tsk," Andre said, and pulled the car over. "You peed your pants. I thought you said you could hold it."

"Only a little came out, I promise. Thank God, we're stopping, please let me get out and-"

"Nope. I'm stopping but you're not getting out." Andre turned off the car and gazed in enjoyment at Brandon's groin. "Open your legs. Stop clenching them together."

"But if I open them, I...I don't think I can..." God, his cock was so hard with pleasure, even while his need to piss was genuinely torturing him.

"Legs apart. Show me how much control you have. I believe in you. You've already let some out; you can hold the rest easier now. I know you can."

"But I can't. I swear, you'll see."

"Do it. Right now."

"I...all right, but I..." Holding the sides of the seat tight, Brandon parted his thighs a few inches and watched, helpless, as piss fountained out of his cock, welling up visibly on the outside of his trousers and running down to pool under his arse. "Oh no, I can't stop, I told you, ohhh..."

Andre reached over and squeezed the tip of Brandon's hard cock through his pants, getting a handful of piss before he succeeded in making the flow stop. "That's enough. Now you can stop."

Brandon was panting with arousal and with the effort to control himself. "Seriously, I can't stop, not anymore. I'm so full, I have so much still, and my bladder's giving out. I can't hold it any longer."

"Wow. I guess you were telling the truth. You have to go so bad you're pissing your pants." Andre held Brandon's dick comfortably tight, massaging his soaked genitals. "Poor guy. I'm sorry. I should have listened to you."

"Let me out of the car so I can finish. Please. I'm begging you, I'm losing control."

"Hmmm. No. Not yet."

Brandon whimpered in defeat, and another gush surged into his pants and wet Andre's hand. "I can't - I can't..."

Andre squeezed him affectionately, keeping his hand against Brandon's crotch, not minding at all that it was now covered with fresh piss. "You have to let ME do it. Your hands stay put, remember, through the entire thing, through every drop that's about to come out of you. It's all going to be my hands only from here on out. Now, I do have this..." Andre pulled a bucket from the back seat. (Brandon had eyed it with amorous delight when getting into the car with his already-full bladder an hour ago, and had been relishing the anticipation of relieving himself into it while Andre watched and touched him - and for that matter had also been enjoying the prospect of pissing at least a certain amount into his pants first.)

"Yes, I'll piss into it. Let me do it now. God, please." He was writhing, trying not to piss and failing, leaking yet more spurts into his pants. The towel had become thoroughly wet under his ass, a hot puddle.

"Well, first I have to get you out. Just hold it until I say." With cruel slowness, Andre unbuttoned...then unzipped...then parted...Brandon's fly, each movement taking at least ten seconds.

Brandon continued to squirm and try to hold back, but he was still trickling into his underwear, hot liquid running down his balls and ass, a marvelous feeling that made him long to let go and drench himself thoroughly. But he fought the flood as Andre commanded. It was the game, and holding it in desperation felt amazing too.

Andre finally took out Brandon's hard cock, and shook his head as he watched one of Brandon's many spurts of piss leak out and run down his erect shaft. It ran over Andre's fingers too. "You've just been pissing your pants even more, haven't you? For shame."

"Yes, I'm ashamed and I'm so wet, and I - mmmff - I need to piss so much more." Another jet of pee flowed out of him, shooting up and landing on the waist of his unfastened pants and soaking that too.

"Doesn't it feel good, though?" Andre caressed Brandon's rigid shaft and the shining wet head of his cock. "Peeing yourself? Feeling it all wet and warm?"

"It does, it feels so good, I only want to keep pissing, please can't I? Even if it's all in my pants, I don't care now, oh I can't stop..." He pissed a harder stream, which arched up and wet his shirt. "Oh God, I'm pissing all over myself, please point me into the bucket. I'm going to lose control any second - I can't - oh, oh!" He gave up and felt the flood rush out of him. His piss shot hard up his chest, drenching the whole front of his shirt, bringing a heavenly feeling of relief even through his regret at making such a mess.

Andre brought the bucket up and, mercifully, pointed Brandon's cock into it. "Oh, all right," he said with faux petulance, "I suppose you'd better have this."

"Ohhhhhh thank you, thank you, ohhh it feels good. Uhhh..." Brandon let his fingers go limp on the sides of the seat, opened his thighs, and enjoyed the sheer bliss as his erect cock poured a waterfall of clear piss into the bucket. It splashed and splattered, making a shameful racket. The sound only made him piss more strongly and freely.

"You had so much in you," Andre marveled, rubbing Brandon's cock and dipping his fingers from time to time into the hot stream to tease Brandon's piss-hole - which felt so good Brandon groaned and gyrated his hips.

"I did, so much. Mmmm. I think I'm going to fill the bucket." There was an inch or two of urine so far in the bucket at least. He had drunk a seriously huge quantity of water.

"That plus all the pee you let out in your pants and on the towel. It's a world record."

"A man can hold a lot of piss," Brandon breathed, still urinating for all he was worth, his legs wide, "but he has to release it somewhere at some point."

"I'm glad you did it like this," Andre whispered, close to his ear, "for me." He was panting now too.

Brandon let his hand creep over to find Andre's hard, oh so hard, cock, and rubbed it. Andre groaned in need. "Is it all right if my hand is here?" Brandon said.

"Yes," moaned Andre, and started grunting in rhythm with Brandon's hand as Brandon slid his hand inside Andre's pants, found Andre's bare, sticky-tipped cock, and began stroking him up and down. "Piss for me," Andre gasped. "God, I love it."

"I am, I'm pissing so hard, I couldn't hold it, I've pissed my pants, and oh it feels good..." Brandon lifted his groin to help his body emit the last quarter of his bladder's burden.

"Uh—uh—UHHHHhhhh..." Andre thrashed over and over as his semen spurted out into Brandon's fingers and coated the inside of Andre's underwear. "Oh, I'm coming in my pants, oh...ohhhh..."

"Who's a mess now?" Brandon smiled in pleasure, and pissed out his last trickle. "Ahh. Give me a shake, would you?"

Still recovering his breath, Andre obeyed, and caressed Brandon's cock, which was ramrod stiff. "Should I put you back in your pants?" he murmured.

"Don't you dare," Brandon growled, and began pumping his erection into Andre's fist with new desperation. Andre obliged, squeezing and stroking, faster, faster, and oh, this was not going to take long, not after all that build-up, and sure enough - "Uhhh!" Brandon threw his head back and let his hips jolt upward over and over as he came, his fluids splashing into the bucket of piss. "Mmmm," he sighed as he slumped down. "Guess I need a change of clothes now."

"Yeah. First, though...I have to pee." Andre got up on his knees, shyly undoing his pants, glancing around for any passersby. There weren't any on this deserted road, luckily.

"What, you can't wait?" Brandon teased.

"I always have to pee after sex. I had to go this whole drive too, actually." He got out his cock, hesitated, then let go of it. "Maybe you should hold it for me."

"My pleasure." Brandon took hold of it, aimed it into the bucket, and waited until Andre began pissing with a moan of gratitude. Then Brandon turned his aim so that Andre was pissing on Brandon's already sopping wet lap.

Andre sucked in a breath, startled. "Wait - that - we didn't agree on - I can't stop!" He was squirming, trying to twist so his stream went back to the bucket.

"It's all right. I just want a little. Keep pissing, I don't mind." Brandon moved the stream up onto his shirt, feeling it land wet and warm on his chest and belly, then with a sigh of pleasure aimed Andre's cock back into the bucket. "Feels so good."

"Yes," Andre breathed, relaxing and pissing into the bucket, his hands dangling limp beside him. He grinned wickedly. "If that's what you want, then next time we'll go hang out in the woods. You can lie down and relax, and I'll drink all the water and stand over you."

"And I'll make you wait till you can't hold it and are tortured into wetting your pants and pouring your flood down on me in sweet shame."

"Mmm. Turnabout is fair play. There, we have a plan for tomorrow."

"Indeed. Schedule determined."