MarinusHelveticus
Mon, 29 Oct 01, 10:46 PM
This is a autobiographical experience of northern america holidays:
It was for greenhorn-Europeans a hot and humid summervacation, that Romain an I, gay friends, spent first time in July in the USA – he between 25 and 27 years old, I quite 40.
A fan of america, , aunt Barbara, was our talented manager of journey, trough New York, Connecticut and Pennsylvania. Trips to Fire Island , Cape Cod, Mystic Seaport, Boston and Hyannis Port were planned and so we drove miles and miles by aunt Barbaras Honda Civic. We were charmed by the very practicable „bed-and-beraskfast“-System for lodging in elder ladies homes .
For me weakbladder it was a stelathy skulduggery not to find plenty of mens restrooms in public in cities, if I had to pee. I noticed very astonished, that peeing public could have serious consequences by policemen as an indecent act – in central Europe nobody would care about, if an adult man is peeing discretely beside the highways. So I had to care attention. In New York City a plenty of Häagen Dasz - or beveridge- pitches, but near Central park no loos. Sighting from the bus , I watched a few times elder lower-class Aforamericans or fat afroamerican boys peeing stealthy beside – did white anglosaxon men of the middle class sweat out all 100% liquid of their beveridges?
First a wonderful experience of an anti-thirsty- juice for me was the light bittersour taste of cranberry-juice, a clair red beveridge without the sweet aftertaste of disliked coke or sprite- but once I noticed the other side of the coin: I felt into panic about the diuretic function of cranberry juice...Before going to the beach near Hyannis Port , we planned after breakfast a shopping tour through the shopping mall. First I had a 3 dl glass of concentrated cranberries juice. Because I had fear about „ indecence controls“ changing clothes on the beach, I wore under the white light long cottontrousers no underpants, but a thin black ciclerpant, a swimsuit made by fastdrying cloth very elastic and on my top I wore a normal white Oversize-T-Shirt. And suddenly the shopping or the way to the beach would be insufferable: I had to pee very badly. I grabbed my right hand in the trusers pocket to give my pecker pinches of control. This sudden urge built up a pression in my bladder and made pain to the prostate. No restaurant or Shop seemed have a inconspicuous mens restroom. I felt falling into fidget and panic, the idea to piss my pants in public, me, a 40 year old european professor , or beeing arrested by police peeing beside or being assault by dogs of a backyards owner was a terrible one. If I had letting go my piss in this moment, it would have been like a yellow fountain, because the swimbriefs were welldrying and thin....My mood crashed down, so I begged instantly my surprised compagnons to hurry up and to take an other coffee in a coffeeshop near the mall. . I headed in this shop and did proof in panic one door after the other : thanks god the second one was the toilet. I only was able to undress the white trousers quickly , than I culd’nt hold it more: my tormented penis did spew pee like a torrent trough the black pant in the toiletbowl.
It was only a very small spot on the swimsuit who dryed in seconds, also my dry white trousers were able to hide the accident. For aunt Barbara and Romain I paid the coffee and we drove to the beach....
It was for greenhorn-Europeans a hot and humid summervacation, that Romain an I, gay friends, spent first time in July in the USA – he between 25 and 27 years old, I quite 40.
A fan of america, , aunt Barbara, was our talented manager of journey, trough New York, Connecticut and Pennsylvania. Trips to Fire Island , Cape Cod, Mystic Seaport, Boston and Hyannis Port were planned and so we drove miles and miles by aunt Barbaras Honda Civic. We were charmed by the very practicable „bed-and-beraskfast“-System for lodging in elder ladies homes .
For me weakbladder it was a stelathy skulduggery not to find plenty of mens restrooms in public in cities, if I had to pee. I noticed very astonished, that peeing public could have serious consequences by policemen as an indecent act – in central Europe nobody would care about, if an adult man is peeing discretely beside the highways. So I had to care attention. In New York City a plenty of Häagen Dasz - or beveridge- pitches, but near Central park no loos. Sighting from the bus , I watched a few times elder lower-class Aforamericans or fat afroamerican boys peeing stealthy beside – did white anglosaxon men of the middle class sweat out all 100% liquid of their beveridges?
First a wonderful experience of an anti-thirsty- juice for me was the light bittersour taste of cranberry-juice, a clair red beveridge without the sweet aftertaste of disliked coke or sprite- but once I noticed the other side of the coin: I felt into panic about the diuretic function of cranberry juice...Before going to the beach near Hyannis Port , we planned after breakfast a shopping tour through the shopping mall. First I had a 3 dl glass of concentrated cranberries juice. Because I had fear about „ indecence controls“ changing clothes on the beach, I wore under the white light long cottontrousers no underpants, but a thin black ciclerpant, a swimsuit made by fastdrying cloth very elastic and on my top I wore a normal white Oversize-T-Shirt. And suddenly the shopping or the way to the beach would be insufferable: I had to pee very badly. I grabbed my right hand in the trusers pocket to give my pecker pinches of control. This sudden urge built up a pression in my bladder and made pain to the prostate. No restaurant or Shop seemed have a inconspicuous mens restroom. I felt falling into fidget and panic, the idea to piss my pants in public, me, a 40 year old european professor , or beeing arrested by police peeing beside or being assault by dogs of a backyards owner was a terrible one. If I had letting go my piss in this moment, it would have been like a yellow fountain, because the swimbriefs were welldrying and thin....My mood crashed down, so I begged instantly my surprised compagnons to hurry up and to take an other coffee in a coffeeshop near the mall. . I headed in this shop and did proof in panic one door after the other : thanks god the second one was the toilet. I only was able to undress the white trousers quickly , than I culd’nt hold it more: my tormented penis did spew pee like a torrent trough the black pant in the toiletbowl.
It was only a very small spot on the swimsuit who dryed in seconds, also my dry white trousers were able to hide the accident. For aunt Barbara and Romain I paid the coffee and we drove to the beach....