Neville, former editor of The Bathroom, is back with another past experience.
Hi again, this is another of one my past experiences. It was when I was 16, and my family were invited to go to a wedding of her work colleague.
I didn’t initially want to go, and had several heated arguments with my mum and my brothers. In the end, I won out, but I was told that I had to stay at Auntie’s house as she didn’t want me to be left on my own.
On the Friday before the wedding, my mum insisted on traveling with me to Auntie’s despite me knowing where to go. After she dropped me off, Auntie criticised me for not going to the wedding. She was a fearless woman, and not many people crossed her. I had a great time staying, but there were times that I felt I should’ve gone to the wedding after all.
On the Sunday morning, Auntie cooked me a big breakfast: sausages, egg, beans with toast with tea and orange juice. Just before lunchtime, my mother picked me up from Auntie’s house to head for home. Normally, it would be a short walk to the Underground to take the train to the main station. However, when we got to the station, there was a notice stating that because of a broken-down train, there would be no services in either direction. We were asked to go round the corner of the station to get a replacement bus. This reminded me of my big mistake. I hadn’t gone to the toilet before I set out with my mother, and as a result, I began to start fidgeting.
We were waiting with a long queue of other people waiting for the bus, and I was fidgeting like mad, trying to hold my pee in. My mother looked at me disapprovingly when I admitted my need to pee. “You’ll just have to hold it in, boy!” she said.
After waiting around an hour and a half, the replacement bus finally arrived…. and almost immediately, people were scrambling like animals to get on. My mother forced me to wait until the others were on board before we got in ourselves. In the end it was basically standing round only. Thankfully, a couple of young men kindly offered us their seats, and I was grateful that I would not be holding my pee in standing up.
I sat down in my seat and immediately crossed and tightened my legs.
“Widen your legs, Neville,” my mother demanded.
“W-Why mum, I need to wee?” I complained, suddenly getting a clip round my head.
“You’re not a girl Neville, only girls cross their legs.” she said.
I uncrossed my legs, and suddenly I felt a spasm rush through me. I immediately grabbed my penis through my trousers and closed my legs together.
The bus had only been running five minutes when it was forced to stop behind a queue of traffic. I was worried that I would wet myself again. This reminded me of the incident at the church when I was younger. Ten minutes later, and I was fidgeting badly and kept grabbing my penis. My mother told me to stop it, but I couldn’t do so.
Half an hour later, the bus was still stationary, and there were times when I felt like giving up and going in my trousers, but I couldn’t do that…. I was 16.
“Neville, will you stop fidgeting!” my mother demanded.
“I can’t, can’t, I can’t,” I replied.
“Yes you can!” she shouted, and slapped me across the head again.
Thankfully, around ten minutes later, the traffic problems started to ease, and the bus started moving again. By then I was in agony. I continued to grab my penis for dear life, and was using all my willpower to stop myself from wetting.
Eventually, we arrived at our station, and of course, my mother ordered me to stay on the seat with her until all the other passengers had left. If only, this had taken around two minutes, and I felt some pee push through to the tip of my penis. When we both got off the bus, I immediately ran desperately towards the station, grabbing myself. My mother was getting angrier with me.
“Neville! Neville! NEVILLE! STAY WHERE YOU ARE! COME BACK AT ONCE!!!” she shouted.
But I didn’t listen, as I was worried about emptying my largely-filled bladder. I knew the station layout very well and I headed towards the toilets, which were located just behind the ticket gates. In the past in the era before barriers, there were gates which were manned by a guard. When I walked through the gates, the guard grabbed one of my hands.
“Oh, no you don’t young man!” he said.
“You don’t understand, I need to use the toilet!” I explained.
“If you want to travel, you need to get a ticket,” said the guard.
“But I’ve already got a ticket, I just need to wee!” I replied.
We spent at least two minutes arguing when my mother showed up.
“Stay where you are! Show some respect to the guard!” she ordered.
I suddenly felt some pee spurt from my penis, dampening my underpants. Somehow I realised that I will wet myself sooner rather than later if I didn’t get to the toilet, so before he could catch me, I jumped over the gates and rushed to the toilet to have a desperately needed wee. I locked myself into a cubicle, unzipped my trousers, pulled my penis and directed to the bowl just before the urine started to gush out.
Over a minute later, and I finished weeing…. goodness, I was so desperate. But by the time I left my cubicle, I was confronted both by the train guard on one side, and my irate mother on the other. Now there were two problems which I was never going to get out of.