WT
Sat, 25 Feb 06, 10:57 AM
Here is the post that Holly and others asked for. It was originally posted on another Board in 2001, I think. Enjoy... :claphigh:
My experience must have been a little more common than the bus cleaners liked as, for the last few years, new buses tend to have solid plastic sets at the back of the top deck, and no longer the upholstered ones... :shock: :whistling
Please reply so that this post does not sink down the Board like a stone: as Holly said elsewhere, that would be rather discouraging. Thanks! :tucool:
The updated index to all my reposts:
Accident on Train (http://www.wetbbs.com/forums/showthread.php?t=8049)
Pissed on the Bus (http://www.wetbbs.com/forums/showthread.php?t=8086)
Will I Pee the Tube? (http://www.wetbbs.com/forums/showthread.php?t=8216)
Soaking Wet Trousers (http://www.wetbbs.com/forums/showthread.php?t=8346)
Accident Off the Train (http://www.wetbbs.com/forums/showthread.php?t=8472)
This is another true story, that happened a few years ago. To be honest, I was too drunk to remember fully, so I have embellished the details a little. The soaking clothes and enormous puddle are true though!
I work in central London and live in south-west London. Normally, I commute by train but this may have been when I was working somewhere else and usually travelled by underground. Anyway, I had been out all evening and into the night and it was past the time for either train or underground to run. In London, there are a series of night bus services which start at Trafalgar Square (home of Nelson's column) in the centre and radiate out in all directions. These days I would get a taxi but this was before my earning power reached that level!
I guess it must have been at the weekend, because I was wearing a casual jacket (grey or fawn depending which one, I don't recall), polo shirt, pants (US: underpants) and dark trousers (US: pants).
I had probably had about four pints of beer then some whisky and American dry chasers, and I was certainly fairly drunk - I could walk in a straight line, but took exaggerated care crossing roads. Knowing me, I would have gone to the toilet immediately before leaving but the night bus only runs every hour and I think that I had just missed one, so I was waiting about nearly an hour before I caught the bus. The fountains in Trafalgar Square probably didn't help either, but I didn't dare risk leaving and having to wait another hour. You could probably piss in the fountains, but the police patrolling the area would probably take a dim view - more because they couldn't risk drunks falling in and drowning than the moral aspects.
When the bus turned up, I was a bit cold, still pretty drunk and already had a reasonably full bladder. Four pints of beer certainly works its way through me, as you know from previous posts. The jigging about was testament to that as well as to the night chill.
I got on the double-decker bus, showed my season ticket (in London, the annual rail and underground tickets cover you for buses as well) and went upstairs. There was nobody right at the back, so I went to the back seat and slumped down across it. The bus was fairly busy - they tend to get emptier as passengers keep getting off as it leaves central London - so there were people near me at this stage. The bus set off, picked up more passengers as it went across the river and near same arts centres and then started working its way south towards my home. The routes have changed over the years and now I would have to get a bus in a slightly different direction (more south-west then south), whereas this one used to go south then turn a bit west. I probably moved about a bit in the seat, crossed my legs and held on tight. After a while (it was well into the early hours of the morning), I dozed off. It would have been a commuting-doze, where you wake up enough at every stop to know where you are and then snooze again.
Somewhere south of Kennington, the bus was getting less busy and there were few people left on the top deck. I guess the posh Clapham types where the bus would go through next mostly used taxis! Anyway, with less movement around me, I must have drifted into a slightly deeper sleep.
I woke up, looked out of the window and, from the (closed) tube station that we were passing saw that we were heading from Clapham towards Streatham. You know when you first wake up, you don't notice how badly you need to pee? There's some mechanism that suppresses the pee urge in most people when they are asleep. It was probably fifteen seconds before the wave of absolute desperation and the four pints of beer (plus chasers) hit me and I realised that I was in trouble with no way out. I started thinking if I got off, I still don't know anywhere near here to pee and we had left the common behind, where you could pee in the open (although it's pretty dodgy as an MP found to his cost when he got accosted there and had to resign). There was another passenger right at the front of the top deck, but nobody near me.
I squirmed desperately to try to clamp off the urge to go but that only seemed to make it worse. I had been sitting back and tried moving forward in the seat, which straightened my body slightly and, unfortunately, had the effect of providing an easier path for the piss. A jet spurted out into my pants and trousers. By fighting as hard as I could, I managed to stem the flow but, to be honest, I was still too drunk to get full control. I remember thinking if I stand up, the other passenger will see what is happening and if I don't...
By then it was too late and I was pissing myself uncontrollably into my pants and trousers. I could feel the wet rising up into a puddle around my bottom, but it was impossible to stop. The flow was too much for the hard material of the seat to absorb at that rate and the puddle rose up my crotch in the depression where I was sitting and must have been an inch deep. I didn't like pissing the seat, but there was still no way I could stop. The seat was now getting totally saturated either side of me and couldn't soak up any more at that rate. The puddle rose high enough to reach the edge of the seat and a rivulet went down the front of the seat and ran onto the floor. I must have pissed for a good minute and a half to two minutes before my bladder emptied and that was the only way that I could stop.
The stream had now run forward under about four rows of seats but, luckily, I was sitting behind the partition around the top of the staircase to the upper deck and that acted like a dam, stopping the flow. Otherwise it would have run the full length of the bus to the passenger at the front! Still, quite a puddle built up against that partition, with about three tributaries running into it from where the flow had split when the bus went round a corner or something.
I was really embarrassed (although the other passenger had not noticed) and, at the next stop, hurried down the stairs and off the bus. I surveyed the damage. My jacket had a half moon shaped wet patch at the bottom of the back (it was a light colour and showed badly), my trousers had a soaking patch from the crotch all round to the bum and pretty much all the way up both front and back, plus wet legs where the pee had run off the seat, and my pants were saturated.
I was now about a mile and a half from home and it was the middle of the night with nobody about. So it took the easy option and walked home from there. By now I was feeling a lot less drunk - it's surprising how a shock sobers you up. But I was rather light-headed with the pleasure of the hot wet feeling all round my cock and balls!!! Unfortunately, that soon wore off as the cold night air had its effect - cold is the worst thing for a man's size!
My experience must have been a little more common than the bus cleaners liked as, for the last few years, new buses tend to have solid plastic sets at the back of the top deck, and no longer the upholstered ones... :shock: :whistling
Please reply so that this post does not sink down the Board like a stone: as Holly said elsewhere, that would be rather discouraging. Thanks! :tucool:
The updated index to all my reposts:
Accident on Train (http://www.wetbbs.com/forums/showthread.php?t=8049)
Pissed on the Bus (http://www.wetbbs.com/forums/showthread.php?t=8086)
Will I Pee the Tube? (http://www.wetbbs.com/forums/showthread.php?t=8216)
Soaking Wet Trousers (http://www.wetbbs.com/forums/showthread.php?t=8346)
Accident Off the Train (http://www.wetbbs.com/forums/showthread.php?t=8472)
This is another true story, that happened a few years ago. To be honest, I was too drunk to remember fully, so I have embellished the details a little. The soaking clothes and enormous puddle are true though!
I work in central London and live in south-west London. Normally, I commute by train but this may have been when I was working somewhere else and usually travelled by underground. Anyway, I had been out all evening and into the night and it was past the time for either train or underground to run. In London, there are a series of night bus services which start at Trafalgar Square (home of Nelson's column) in the centre and radiate out in all directions. These days I would get a taxi but this was before my earning power reached that level!
I guess it must have been at the weekend, because I was wearing a casual jacket (grey or fawn depending which one, I don't recall), polo shirt, pants (US: underpants) and dark trousers (US: pants).
I had probably had about four pints of beer then some whisky and American dry chasers, and I was certainly fairly drunk - I could walk in a straight line, but took exaggerated care crossing roads. Knowing me, I would have gone to the toilet immediately before leaving but the night bus only runs every hour and I think that I had just missed one, so I was waiting about nearly an hour before I caught the bus. The fountains in Trafalgar Square probably didn't help either, but I didn't dare risk leaving and having to wait another hour. You could probably piss in the fountains, but the police patrolling the area would probably take a dim view - more because they couldn't risk drunks falling in and drowning than the moral aspects.
When the bus turned up, I was a bit cold, still pretty drunk and already had a reasonably full bladder. Four pints of beer certainly works its way through me, as you know from previous posts. The jigging about was testament to that as well as to the night chill.
I got on the double-decker bus, showed my season ticket (in London, the annual rail and underground tickets cover you for buses as well) and went upstairs. There was nobody right at the back, so I went to the back seat and slumped down across it. The bus was fairly busy - they tend to get emptier as passengers keep getting off as it leaves central London - so there were people near me at this stage. The bus set off, picked up more passengers as it went across the river and near same arts centres and then started working its way south towards my home. The routes have changed over the years and now I would have to get a bus in a slightly different direction (more south-west then south), whereas this one used to go south then turn a bit west. I probably moved about a bit in the seat, crossed my legs and held on tight. After a while (it was well into the early hours of the morning), I dozed off. It would have been a commuting-doze, where you wake up enough at every stop to know where you are and then snooze again.
Somewhere south of Kennington, the bus was getting less busy and there were few people left on the top deck. I guess the posh Clapham types where the bus would go through next mostly used taxis! Anyway, with less movement around me, I must have drifted into a slightly deeper sleep.
I woke up, looked out of the window and, from the (closed) tube station that we were passing saw that we were heading from Clapham towards Streatham. You know when you first wake up, you don't notice how badly you need to pee? There's some mechanism that suppresses the pee urge in most people when they are asleep. It was probably fifteen seconds before the wave of absolute desperation and the four pints of beer (plus chasers) hit me and I realised that I was in trouble with no way out. I started thinking if I got off, I still don't know anywhere near here to pee and we had left the common behind, where you could pee in the open (although it's pretty dodgy as an MP found to his cost when he got accosted there and had to resign). There was another passenger right at the front of the top deck, but nobody near me.
I squirmed desperately to try to clamp off the urge to go but that only seemed to make it worse. I had been sitting back and tried moving forward in the seat, which straightened my body slightly and, unfortunately, had the effect of providing an easier path for the piss. A jet spurted out into my pants and trousers. By fighting as hard as I could, I managed to stem the flow but, to be honest, I was still too drunk to get full control. I remember thinking if I stand up, the other passenger will see what is happening and if I don't...
By then it was too late and I was pissing myself uncontrollably into my pants and trousers. I could feel the wet rising up into a puddle around my bottom, but it was impossible to stop. The flow was too much for the hard material of the seat to absorb at that rate and the puddle rose up my crotch in the depression where I was sitting and must have been an inch deep. I didn't like pissing the seat, but there was still no way I could stop. The seat was now getting totally saturated either side of me and couldn't soak up any more at that rate. The puddle rose high enough to reach the edge of the seat and a rivulet went down the front of the seat and ran onto the floor. I must have pissed for a good minute and a half to two minutes before my bladder emptied and that was the only way that I could stop.
The stream had now run forward under about four rows of seats but, luckily, I was sitting behind the partition around the top of the staircase to the upper deck and that acted like a dam, stopping the flow. Otherwise it would have run the full length of the bus to the passenger at the front! Still, quite a puddle built up against that partition, with about three tributaries running into it from where the flow had split when the bus went round a corner or something.
I was really embarrassed (although the other passenger had not noticed) and, at the next stop, hurried down the stairs and off the bus. I surveyed the damage. My jacket had a half moon shaped wet patch at the bottom of the back (it was a light colour and showed badly), my trousers had a soaking patch from the crotch all round to the bum and pretty much all the way up both front and back, plus wet legs where the pee had run off the seat, and my pants were saturated.
I was now about a mile and a half from home and it was the middle of the night with nobody about. So it took the easy option and walked home from there. By now I was feeling a lot less drunk - it's surprising how a shock sobers you up. But I was rather light-headed with the pleasure of the hot wet feeling all round my cock and balls!!! Unfortunately, that soon wore off as the cold night air had its effect - cold is the worst thing for a man's size!