Here’s another update in the Sarah’s Secret Diary archive.
Both John and I had an early start. We were going to his brother David’s wedding in Scotland. We had prepared everything, our clothes, presents, and other things, and packed them in our suitcases. We didn’t wait until the last minute.
Earlier, both of us had a hefty breakfast…. beans-on-toast with scrambled egg and drinking cups of both tea and orange juice. It was because the wedding was being held in the evening that we had a long journey ahead of us. I got changed into a white t-shirt and sky-blue jeans and trainers.
John had planned the journey, which meant driving all the way to the hotel, which from where we live would take around six hours, and when we got there we could prepare ourselves for the wedding. I earlier suggested that we get there the night before so we could spend the morning of the wedding sightseeing, but he refused.
Naturally, barely an hour in our car journey, I felt the need to wee. I told John we should stop at least twice on the way, but he said that if we did, we would be late. So, I sat in the passenger seat in silence, waiting for my bladder to fill. Within half an hour, I had started to fidget a little. John glanced at me and asked me what was wrong. I lied, saying that I was a bit cold, that’s all.
Another hour later, I had crossed my legs tightly and began to rock on my seat. I pleaded with John to stop at the nearest service station as I was needing to wee badly. He firstly refused, but then after I threatened to wet myself in the car just to embarrass him, he eventually relented.
Within twenty minutes, we reached the service station. While John parked the car, I went inside to look for a toilet. What I didn’t forsee was that there was a long queue of fidgeting, desperate women who needed to use it. I realised that they were only toilets in the whole building. I was in real trouble now, being in the queue for fifteen minutes and it hadn’t moved for a while, and I was extremely desperate to empty my bladder. John had come over and impatiently waited for me, looking at his watch. he kept calling me back to the car, but I wanted to get some much-needed relief. The queue was so long and it only moved a couple of metres. I was so desperate, yet I didn’t know when I would get another chance to go.
I reluctantly decided to go back with John to the car, which meant remaining extremely desperate in the passenger seat for the rest of the journey. John kept telling me to stop fidgeting, but I couldn’t do so…. my legs were crossed so tightly and I continued to rock wildly on my seat, biting my lower lip and tightening my bladder muscles.
We finally reached the hotel, and when we called into reception, I was bending double and holding myself. I didn’t care by now whether John… or anybody else… was watching me. After we booked in, we finally got into our room, and I immediately rushed to the toilet. I then quickly pulled down my jeans to have that much-needed wee and let my golden liquid gush out of my extremely aching pussy. I sat there in there for at least ten minutes so I could compose myself. John suddenly knocked loudly on the door, complaining to me about the amount of time I’ve been in the toilet.