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At The Grocery, Part 1
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
At The Grocery
One of my first wetting experiences as an adult was
something that happened several years ago. I can remember
the details very clearly. It was a Saturday, and I needed
to stop at the supermarket to pick up a few things for
dinner. It was just before a holiday, and the store was
very crowded. There also appeared to be a shortage of
cashiers, so the checkout lines were unusually long. It
took me about 20 minutes to pick out the items I needed and
get to the rear of the checkout line. During that time, I
began to feel the need to pee, but it didnt seem too urgent
then. Besides, I had been to the bathroom at this store
before, and it wasnt the cleanest or most pleasant place. I
was sure I would have no trouble holding it in until I got
home.
I was wearing a pair of faded, well fitting blue jeans and a
halter top. Underneath, I had on a pair of plain white
cotton panties, hipster style. I thought I was looking
pretty good. I have a great body if I do say so myself:
long legs, shapely hips, a narrow waist and 34 Cs with nice
pointy nipples. Not voluptuous, but no guy had ever
complained. I think my best feature though is my ass, which
is firm, smooth and round and fills out a pair of tight
jeans perfectly.
The wait in line was taking a long time, and the urge to pee
began to get stronger. After awhile, I considered getting
out of line and going back to the bathroom anyway, but by
this time all of the lines had gotten even longer. It was
getting late and I didnt want to lose my place and have to
start over. As luck would have it though, my line
continued to move even slower than the others. As I waited,
the pressure on my bladder continued to grow and I found
myself pacing back and forth in line and doing what I call
the potty dance. Keeping my knees tightly together, I would
bounce up and down and shift my weight from one leg to the
other. I also began to discreetly press my fingers into my
crotch when no one was looking in order to try to hold
myself back. At this point I began to wonder what would
happen if I really couldnt make it home. The thought was a
little scary, but somehow exciting at the same time.
After about 15 minutes of this I finally reached the
cashier. I was pretty desperate at that point. I paid for
my groceries as quickly as I could and headed for the
parking lot. I tried to walk quickly, but it was difficult,
because I felt I absolutely had to keep my legs together. I
had to stop twice, just to try to keep control. By this
time I was actually in pain.
(Continued)
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