problem at church

Chris sat down in the pew nervously, his hand kneading at the leg of his neatly ironed slacks. This was his very first time in a church on a Sunday. He looked to his friend Paul, who seemed content and at ease, causing Chris to relax. That's when he noticed the small amount of pressure in his bladder. He had forgotten to go that morning, in his rush to be on time.


How long was this service anyway? He supposed he could wait. He had no idea whether the pastor would be understanding enough to let him go without causing a scene, but it didn't matter either way, because he was terrified of public restrooms.


He shrugged it off, and tried to focus on the Bible lesson. At least an hour later, his need had become not only noticeable, but pressingly annoying. He shifted in his seat every so often, hoping his companion wouldn't notice. Chris looked up at Paul, at his focused and interested expression, and sighed. Without meaning to, he began to fidget, bouncing his legs and shifting more and more by the minute.


Paul finally took notice and silently put a hand on his friend's leg as if to say 'keep still.' But Chris willed himself to still. It didn't work for long. As the pastor droned on and on, he found himself losing focus and wishing to be anywhere else (preferably his house, where he could pee in peace).


He leaned forward a bit and unwillingly let out a groan. How long had they been here? An hour and a half? Two hours? After a few minutes of enduring his rocking back and forth, Paul looked at Chris accusingly. "Stay still," he whispered. Chris could only nod. It was bad- really bad.


His bladder throbbed with a dull ache, He was fuller than anytime he could remember. He winced thinking of all the orange juice he had chugged in anxiety before leaving.


Paul carefully put his lips to Chris's ear. "What's wrong?"


"Mmmn..." was the only response Chris would manage at the moment.


For the life of him, Paul could not figure out what was the matter. Was he just nervous? Yeah, that must be it. He was in an unfamiliar environment, with unfamiliar people and...


"Oooooh..." Chris whined, rocking with his legs pressed together tightly. He didn't know how much longer he could last. Paul glanced at him right as his right hand found its way in between his legs.


Paul pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head lightly. "Go," he whispered to Chris, barely audible.


"Hm?" Chris mumbled, "Go where?" Meanwhile, he was crossing and uncrossed his legs frequently and resisting with all his might the urge to grab his crotch one more.


Unable to do anything at the moment, Paul only sighed and returned his attention to the preaching. But Chris could not do the same. His bladder felt like an ocean inside of him, every drop just begging to get out. "Ahhhh," he groaned painfully, and rubbed his thighs together.


Paul tried again. "Go," he said.


"Ooogh..."


"Chris, go," he commanded.


"Mmmm where?" Chris mumbled, not wanting to give it up and still naïvely hoping that his friend had not sensed his predicament.


"To the bathroom, buddy... you need to go," he frowned.


"Mmmf... M'fine..." Chris mumbled in a last-ditch attempt to get Paul off his back. Shaking his head, Paul grabbed Chris's hand and slowly lifted him to his feet. As soon as gravity hit his bladder, however Chris doubled over in pain and moaned, capturing the attention of an elderly lady in the next pew. As he shoved a hand between his shaking legs, her expression morphed from concerned to disgusted. But Chris was much too desperate to care.


"G-gotta pee, gotta go so bad..." His whimpering had caught the attnetion of a few other patrons, and the boys just barely heard someone say, "How immature!"


"C'mon bud, you can make it," Paul whispered encouragingly, and led him out into entranceway. Chris allowed himself to be led, like a host puppy, to the men's room doors, then stopped.


Perplexed, Paul asked him, "Why'd you stop? You're so close..."


"I... I can't."


"What? Of course you can." Paul replied, extremely confused. Chris had not removed his hand from his (now slightly damp) crotch.


"N-no I... Oooh... I c-can't do... I can't use this b-bathr-oom." Paul's eyebrows raised, waiting for an explanation, and Chris continued. "I-I'm scared of p-public restrooms... I dunno why but when I t-try to g-go... I just can't... And it.... oooohh... it doesn't feel good."


Paul nodded, only halfway understanding. "But, you have to try!" He said. Chris simply shook his head.


"I'll just ha-have to..." Gulp. "...wait."


Paul facepalmed for real this time. "Chris, I'm not trying to embarrass you but... you obviously can't wait. It's either try now or... or wet yourself."


While Chris knew Paul was correct, he couldn't bring himself to step into the possibly (probably?) disgusting, and very open restroom. Paul hesitated only half a second before opening the door and dragging his friend into a stall, figuring that would be easier for him than trying to use a urinal.


Chris was trembling, but from the anxiety or his intense need to pee, he did not know. "Chris..."


Chris bounced on the balls of his feet. "H-help, I need help!" he whined.


Paul immediately sprang into action, undoing Chris's belt and pants button. Chris aimed at the toilet, but nothing happened. He groaned in a mix of pain and frustration. Thinking quickly, Paul put a hand on Chris's abdomen and pressed down hard and fast.


"Ah!" Chris yelped, before pissing forcefully into the toilet. He sighed loudly in relief, forgetting, in his bliss, that he was in fact in a public bathroom and that his best friend in the world was still standing behind him.


He finished no less than a minute later, panting hard. "I... thanks," he said, just remembering that Paul was there. Chris's face instantly became redder than Paul had ever seen it as he struggled to find his words. "Um... We never speak of this again. Ever."


"Agreed."


word count: 1029

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