You picked up the phone and dialed again, expecting a different result. Still no answer. You hung up and tried again, and again, and again. You would have kept up with these fruitless actions, but you were snapped out of this drill by the vocal interruption of the stranger. You were instantly annoyed by the interruption and then amused by the fact that he had a voice and was suddenly interested and engaged in the predicament. It was about fucking time! Unfortunately, his interruption was a disappointment. He merely said, "it is pointless, they are apparently not answering." You thought to yourself, " no shit, Shirlock!, do you have a better idea?!" But, again, you did not vocalize that thought. Your look said it all.

You both became silent. He "heard" you and disengaged. He understood you were in a different place and that you did not wish to be bothered as you problem solved, without his useless interruptions. You appreciated that he understood your non-verbal communication.

You looked at the ceiling and then you looked around the elevator, taking it all in and taking an inventory of the situation. Nothing suggests any solution. You, with your back up against the side of the elevator, slid down the wall into a seated position, in full surrender to the situation. You did, however, do so in a dignified manner, as you were wearing a skirt, a rather short one. You were mindful of not flashing anything inappropriate to this stranger. You decided to fully sit and not squat, so as best to protect any view that may have shot up between your legs. You crossed your legs, both to double insure the dignity preservation, and... to help manage the growing pressure on your bladder. In fact, it was not so much that your slide to the floor was a slide of resignation to the situation in so much that it was a bladder preservation move. It was harder to hold while standing, or so you thought at the moment.

You learned that he lived in Flordia and rarely came north to go the office. His partner, who lived local, mostly used the office, as well as another couple of associates and some support staff. However, they took were largely not in the office. They had something to do with international trade. Frankly, it is at that point were you started to tune out to the content he was instantly uttering.

Your mind was in fact was drifting to two different places. First was your need to pee. Second, was arousal. You found the second to be surprising, a bit embarrassing, and a bit naughty. You found yourself getting turned on by the stranger, by his looks, his self assurance, the smell of his cologne, and his sexy body. Your thoughts became increasingly naughty as you imagined what sex might be like with this attractive stranger. Although he was quite self absorbed, your thoughts were taking the upper hand on him. You began to mentally rape him as he went on and on about his business abroad, the places he had been, etc., etc.

He suddenly stopped talking when you moaned. Your moan was of piss desperation, but maybe more. You were so lost in your thoughts that you had completely lost track of what he was saying. He had a quisical look on his face. You instantly panicked. Did he now know of your dirty thoughts , your urgent need of a bathroom, or both?! No, thank goodness. He immediately repeated his question, revealing both that he remained clueless and self absorbed. He asked if you to have ever been to Hong Kong. Your face, however, registered annoyance over his cluelessness and self absorption. Your thoughts professed rapidly. How could he not know of my urgency?! He must not know of my urgency! He is so self absorbed that he does not know of my desire. He would think I am a slut. I would be so ashamed. He must not know....

He took notice. He asked if you were ok. How could he not know. He does not know! Your relief was fleeting as your need to pee snapped you back to addressing the needs of your bladder. You leaned forward to help your hold.

The other leg remained extended. You tried to remain dignified. That meant not placing your heal where it was needed the most, applying direct pressure to your panty covered pussy. No, instead it remained outside and underneath of the skirt that still discreetly covered your now moist panties. You cursed the fact that you were not now wearing pants, where rhe pressure could be applied better, while still not surrendering your dignity.

You silently cursed your predicament, the sudden silence, and the emerging judgments by the stranger. Your urgency was through the roof.

Sitting on your foot was not enough. You started to move rhythmically. Your body was taking over. It was revealing your need.

You had to fess up. His next question finally elicited the truth. You confessed that you urgently needed to pee.

He looked at you with compassion. He slumped to the floor, himself. He did so in complete solidarity with your predicament. His empathy, and more important, lack of adverse judgment, were immediately appreciated.

He offered verbal coaching. He was mansplaining a bit, which normally would have been annoying. He seemed to know quite a bit about how the blader works and how it could be controlled. He coached you on breathing. He urged you to rub your thighs as that was a known and effective manner of bladder control.

You submitted to his instructions and it actually helped, at least for a bit. However, time was not on your side. You appreciated his help. He did move closer, in a helpful, non-threatening way.

Most of all you gained a the freedom of relating all that was happening.

You did as instructed. You resumed rubbing your pussy and it did help. He, meanwhile addressed his own urgencies. He unzipped his pants and released his penise. He began stroking it in unison with your rubbing.

You were surprised with how rapidly you were moving to climax. You did not want to do that! You knew that edging the orgasm was helping hold your pee. If you orgasmed, you would certainly pee all over the place! So you slowed down.

Slowing down was not good either. Another spurt welled up and escaped. This time it was more significant. It was much harder to gain control. But control you did.

The stranger the suggested such an audacious next step, that it took your breath away. Before you could think too deeply, he began to execute on the plan, by laying himself on his back, on the floor of the elevator. You found yourself following his instructions, a bit blindly.

He instructed you to stand and to take off your panries, to save what was left of them. It was difficult for your to stand and another spurt escaped in the process and pee now teickeled down the inside of your thigh. Your panties were drenched and were no longer an effective barrier.

You slid your panties down and allowed them to drop to the floor. You stepped out of them. You immediately groped your pussy to hide it and hold it.

You then grasped and protested the next set of instructions. He told you to straddle his face. He instructed you to grind your pussy into his face. He offered that he would stimulate your pussy with his tongue and that would thwart your urgency. You protested that it would only serve to cause you to drench his face in pee. Your protests were only half hearted. Your urgency and a fair bit of lust were now in charge and any hope of dignity preservation were long cast aside, just like the soaked pantiss that were now waded up on the floor.

He urged you to proceed. He convinced you not to worry about peeing in his face. He said he would swallow any that came out.

Any chance you could make the text black? Hard to read for an old fella like me 😃

I highlighted it to make it easier to read.  Changes to white on blue.

However, apart from that minor issue, it was an excellent story with a few unexpected turns. Thanks