I met, we’ll call him, Cyril (lol…The Racoons is on!) in the bar I worked at whilst at uni.  We’d gotten to know each other over a few months.  We went out on a few “dates” (by dates I mean hookups at clubs after work) and got on pretty well.

One night, whilst I was working, Cyril asked if i wanted to go back to his place with him.  I said no…ok, that was a lie, I said yes.  I finished work early that night  and was pretty excited to go back for some sex education! 

So excited that I totally overlooking nipping to the toilet prior to leaving work!  Ugh!  Big mistake!  I hadn’t taken my car to work, as I had planned on drinking after my shift.  Cyril didn’t have his car because he had the same plan as me (although he didn’t work at the bar…he just liked to get drunk).

We walked!  (Seriously, why did I not think to cab it??).  It was a 40 minute UP HILL walk!  It’s a good job there was going to be a light at the end of this damn tunnel!

By the time we got to the top of the hill I was DESPERATE for a pee!  By desperate I mean SERIOUSLY DESPERATE.  That kind of desperate when you can feel your organs all squishing up inside you to make more room for the pee.  Then you get the gut-wrenching pains of too much freakin pee!!

Obviously, not wanting to show my delightful self up, I played it cool and waited a few minutes to ask where the bathroom was when we got inside (god I’m an idiot!!).

Cyril went to the kitchen and I literally flew up the stairs!!  Finding the bathroom seemed to take forever, although in reality there were only 4 doors to choose from upstairs. 

Bladder fail!

I didn’t make it.

Flood gates were wiiiiiiiiiide open!

Oh god.

Now what!?

I was wearing my black work ruffly skirt.  So that was something at least.  At least there were no giant pee patches on my ass and I’d somehow manage to pee on the ruffles and not completely on the floor (but yeah, there was a patch on the floor).  You know when you see little girls desperate for a pee and they shove there hand between their legs – like it’s actually going to help?  Well, that was me with the ruffles try to save my dignity.  

Dignity fail.

What do I do?  Have an impromptu shower without asking and seem like a complete and utter fruitcake?  Or admit to peeing my “pants”!?

Neither.

I was slutty.

So, first plan:  Just remove knickers (in my head I thought he’d think I was naughty and it would be good).  In reality I had still covered my skirt in pee.  Second plan:  Remove knickers and skirt – logistically this just wouldn’t work…how random am I going to look just wearing my work top?  Seriously?  I went with plan 3:  Remove everything!

So I got naked, gave “down there” a quick swill, grabbed a bath towel and wrapped it around and then gave my skirt a quite once over in the sink.  You may be thinking that was silly…but I had another plan (god, if only I had the brain capacity to plan good stuff these days!).  I put my skirt on the floor by the shower knowing that it would be quite plausable for it to have got wet whilst we were “cleaning the shower”. 

Without giving you details and turning this into an erotic short story the evening went extremely well!  Cyril got the (possibly) night of his life with a girl who just decides it’s time for a shower whilst he’s making drinks and I got away with peeing myself!!

We dated (and by dated I mean hooked-up) for 6 months.  Then he moved away with his job.  No more pee sex!  Lol…well, that sounded wrong on all kinds of levels – but I couldn’t think of a closing line!

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