From Paul Tester, author of “The All Day Girls“. A series of sightings featuring young women getting desperate and wet at train stations.
Author’s note.
I have been deliberately vague as to where these sighting were, as I selfishly do not want the places crowded with lurkers from this site, or any other that might read this. All I will say is that these took place at railway stations in greater London, and similar events might be happening ever Saturday night on any station. I have tried to describe what I saw, and add helpful comments and my opinion of what the lady was feeling. If anyone has questions, or comments on these signings, my e-mail is Paul***_Tester**144@ Yahoo***co***uk Remove the **’s and spaces, and put in . before co and uk. This is to avoid the web-bots that will read a normal address and fill my in-box with Spam. (Yes, I do use the Yahoo Spam filter, at its highest setting, but the junk still has to go somewhere.)
This was a really cute little blonde girl wearing tight black trousers, which clearly showed the outline of her bikini knickers. She was one of a mainly male group, all of whom appeared to be significantly older that she was.
She was standing with her legs tightly crossed and was moving about so as to keep twisting her legs even more tightly, so much so that she attracted my attention as someone who probably wanted to pee. After several such twisting actions, the urge to pee must have got too much, and she left the group and hurried to another platform where a Ladies was signposted. To her considerable disappointment, this Ladies was firmly closed, with a notice on the door telling the world that it had been closed since 8PM. The poor girl stood, pushing on the closed door, obviously willing it to open, once more going through her leg twisting routine and she might even have pushed her hand between her legs. I was not near enough to see clearly.
Looking most upset, she hurried back to her group, and maybe told her boyfriend that the Ladies was shut, and that she was ‘dying for a pee.’ He looked round the station and, not being able to see an alternative for her to use, shrugged and continued with his conversation with the others in he group. The blonde girl could only twist her legs even more tightly and look very distressed. Their train which did not seem to be due for some time, might have had a toilet she could use, and I tried to move closer, wondering what she would do, and hoping she would catch the same train as I was. (I knew that my train would be the new type of suburban train, with sliding doors and no passenger toilets.) However, more leg crossing and twisting, but no more holding between her legs, suggested that her need to pee was becoming more and more urgent. Then she seemed to suddenly come to a decision and left the group and hurried, almost running, along the platform. She was heading toward the Gents toilet, which I knew was open, but had a urinal only, and no cubicle that a desperate lady might used in an emergency. She might have realised this on her way, because she never got as far as the Gents, but stopped at the passengers’ waiting room, which was empty a that time of night. With only a brief hesitation she went in and was out of my sight. The waiting room had several windows looking out onto the platform, but she seemed to have stopped just inside the door. Without running, I could not catch up with her and see what she was doing. (I was walking casually along the platform as if I was bored and hoping to find some interesting diversion at the end of the platform. Before I could reach the waiting room, the blonde girl emerged, and hinted at what she had been doing in there, as she was pulling up her trousers. As I continued to walk towards her as if I was going into the waiting room I could see she was looking worried, and was trying to look unconcerned as she hurried back to her group. I went past the waiting room entrance, and then hung around, pretending to read an advertisement, then, equally casually walked back towards her group. Casually glancing in one of the windows, I could confirm that the blonde girl had been in there for a pee, as there was a puddle where she might have been standing, or squatting, The foam on the puddle and the splatter pattern suggested that it had been a hurried, high pressure pee. I could hardly believe it, but it seemed that the blonde girl had finally reached the point when she felt she could not wait any longer, and had been prepared to squat in a very open place and pee. If I had walked a bit quicker, I could either have seen her from outside, or walked into the waiting room and caught her in full flow. She must have been one very desperate lady to risk a pee in such an open place, but if it was a case of pee there or wet herself, she must have been willing to take the risk.
Back with her group, there was no more leg crossing and she looked much more relaxed. The train she caught was a main-line train, with toilets for passengers, and she must have known this, but it seemed that she could not have held on the five more minutes to get on that train and pee in private. Her boyfriend, if he was, appeared to be completely indifferent to her desperation and her taking a pee in the waiting room, did not know how lucky he was. Of course such public peeing might have been the blonde girl’s normal behaviour on Saturday nights going home from the pub, which would have made him even luckier.