Here’s another update from Sarah’s now-defunct blog.
I made my regular trip down to my local gym. It was one of those gyms that were only for women, so there weren’t any perverted men about.
Normally, I carry a large bottle of mineral water with me to ensure I don’t get too dehydrated whilst doing my exercises. I also like to go to the gym with an almost full bladder.
When I get to the gym, I normally get a slight need to go, after drinking a lot of fluid about an hour before coming. I seldom use the toilets in the gym, so the usual plan was do my workout, drink a lot, wait for my bladder to get really full, get myself desperate, fidget discreetly, grab myself a few times, then wait as long as I can to finish my workout, get showered, changed and then go home to pee.
On this occasion however, I was in trouble before I even got to the gym. I already drank a lot when I was at work. Usually I got home form work in plenty of time before getting changed to go there, but I was so distracted from other people wanting to talk to me. As a result I got hot, so I drank a lot of water from the machine, soon making my belly stretch a little.
I got home late from work, and hadn’t had time to have a shower, so what I did was to get changed into my sky blue leotard and navy tracksuit. When I got to the gym, I was bursting. I was walking in small steps with my thighs clenched together. The receptionist looked at me, rather puzzled. She asked if I was okay. I was blatantly honest, and told her that I needed the toilet big time.
After a brief chat, I rushed to the toilets. I was shy about using them for the first time. The main problem was that they were only five cubicles in the toilet, which was unusual for an all-female gym. Worse, all of them were occupied!
I was waiting nervously for a vacant cubicle, anyone of them to use, but surprisingly, not one of the women left any of the cubicles. I was getting desperate at this stage. I was the only one waiting to use the toilet. I was repeatedly fidgeting, hopping on the spot. I slid one hand down my tracksuit bottoms to grab my crotch through my leotard, and doing curtsy. I often enjoyed being desperate at the gym, but not that day.
Suddenly, without warning, I felt a little pee leak into my leotard. I immediately grabbed myself and tried to tighten my bladder musles in a bid to retain control. Two of the other women who were in the cubicles were talking to each other for some reason. I banged on the door of one of them, asking her to hurry up as I’m about to lose control. She told me not to worry, and said she’d be out soon.
That was TWENTY MINUTES ago….that seemed like an eternity, as I was in extreme desperation. I was now bending double, fidgeting quite wildly now, and had both hands inbetween my legs. I was beginning to sweat with worry. Surprisingly, no other women had come in to queue for the toilet. I banged on the cubicle door again, asking them impolitely to hurry up. Suddenly, another spurt of pee leaked into my leotard. I pulled down my tracksuit bottoms and bent over to see a small wet patch…that sprung another leak, which after a few moments, seeped through the crotch area and dripped a little onto the tracksuit bottoms.
About ten minutes later, I was in real trouble. It didn’t occur to them in the cubicles that other people needed the toilet too. I was starting to leak in intervals, soaking my leotard and making wet patches in my tracksuit bottoms. I was moaning loudly, not from excitement, but from the fact I was still desperate and was just about to wet myself.
Then, I decided to give up. I took my hands away from my crotch, stood with my legs apart and started peeing. The pee soaked my leotard and drenched my tracksuit bottoms. To my horror, one of the ladies in one of the cubicles had come out and saw me peeing on the floor. She asked me if I could wait any longer, and walked away disapprovingly. I began to sob a little. I got into a cubicle to get myself cleaned up. When the receptionist heard about my accident, she told me that I had to clean the mess up, which was a very humiliating experience.
Worse was to come when I got home. John had immediately looked at my tracksuit bottoms and asks how did they get wet. I explained to him that I had spilled some mineral water over myself…. well, it was MY water.