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Desperate Pissing in Plymouth. Debra is trying to find the shop toilets.

Hi, let me tell you about one day last summer, I had gone to Plymouth for the day on my own, dressed in a pink skirt and a white top, and white sandals.

It was the first time I'd visited Plymouth, so I was enthralled by all the shops there were to look in. It was a hot morning, so as well as my usual half a dozen mugs of tea, I had also consumed 3 cans of diet cola because of the hot journey on the train. Also, the minute I got off the train at Oxford I bought another drink which I also drank straight down, (orangeade I think it was) then I got a taxi to the centre of town. When I got out of the cab a strong urge to pee hit me, but I ignored it, I'm used to holding it and I wasn't going to let it get between me and hitting all the exciting shops I could see!

I went into a large CD shop which had a huge selection of country music, I must've spent at least an hour in there, but the minute I left the shop I realised my need to pee was getting very bad, it was bordering on desperation. Darn it, where am I gonna find a loo around here I thought. I couldn't see any signs for one, only more signs for more tempting shops. I was lured into a huge department store and I was hoping there would be a toilet in there. All of a sudden a wave hit me a lot harder than I was expecting and I realised that getting to a toilet was now my main priority - but where the hell were they?

It was a huge store and I couldn't see any signs for one anywhere, so I continued wandering around the store anxiously looking for signs for a toilet, but I couldn't see one. By now I was very desperate and I was in real trouble, I asked an assistant for directions; " There's one on the 3rd floor." she replied. I looked around for the escalators to get up to the 3rd floor, my bladder was throbbing now and I was very desperate indeed.

I knew I didn't have a lot of time and I would have loved the luxury of holding myself, but in a very crowded shop that really wasn't possible. I found the escalators and started going up, they seemed soooooooooooo slow, I was gritting my teeth and standing cross legged now, I was OK until the doors opened and had to move my legs to get off, this was only the first floor, now I had to walk across the shop for another set of escalators to take me up to the second floor, but for a few seconds I couldn't move! In sheer frantic desperation I considered going into a changing room and relieving myself on the floor, it was that bad.
I had a discreet little rub to ease it, just long enough to get across the shop floor to the second set of escalators, those darned things are so slow! I tried walking up the stairs instead, but that caused my bladder to give out a little and I had to tightly grab myself with both hands to stop the warm trickle running down my legs, but once my hands were there I couldn't let go!

I knew I was getting some strange looks from people, but I knew I'd be getting even stranger looks if I didn't hold myself because I knew I was on the very brink of wetting. Again I was "stable" until I got to the top and had to resume walking again, it was taking every ounce of strength I could muster up to get to the final set of escalators, I could feel my hands were wet and that some pee had leaked past my fingers and it was dripping down my legs, but I was doing the best I could. I finally got up to the 3rd floor and looked around frantically for the toilets, there was a sign, the men's were this side of the floor the ladies were a few yards away, just the other side of the floor, but I had no choice as I felt a long spurt escape past my hands and run down my legs. I hobbled into the men's toilet, there were some men in there and they gave me a funny look, but I guess they understood why I couldn't make it to the other side of the floor just by looking at me, but to my horror, no matter how hard I tried and what I did, I couldn't hold it for the few seconds it would've taken me to get from the door of the men's over to the cubicle and to my horror, I started peeing myself and absolutely nothing I did - nothing at all helped, I could not stop the stream from pouring down my legs onto the floor in front of those men.

I was so ashamed I began to cry, they were very kind and understanding and helped me dry off a little bit before I felt ready to walk through the shop, one even offered to walk with me to hide the wet stain in the front of my skirt where I'd been clutching frantically at my crutch. That was so embarrassing!


I hope you've enjoyed reading this half as much as I've enjoyed typing and remembering it! Love from Debra xx

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