Airport security check

The heavy sigh and the clearly audible “oh, no no no!” which their mate
Doug emitted under his breath, caused his friends Rich and Evan to
look round at him in surprise. For the last twenty-five minutes the three
twenty-something guys had been standing in a typically huge airport queue
for the security check at London’s Heathrow Airport, their changing over point
en route from Manchester to their winter-sport destination in Austria. It was
their annual get-away to the pistes and apres-ski facilities, a week full of
fun and camaraderie away from the daily grind of life in wintry England.

Before you could start skiing and living it up, you had to travel of course.
And airport queues were just part of the package. But Doug, who had been
noticably quiet since they had disembarked the 737 and encountered this
orderly but typically enormous queue snaking its way through the strategically
placed metal barriers, now appeared to be out of patience.

Evan broke off his conversation with Rich to stare quizzically at his other
friend. Doug was staring ahead towards the front of the queue where the bags
were being X-rayed as if his patience had completely run out. It seemed
unnecessary to Evan. “Relax, Douggie, the other flight isn’t boarding till
two-thirty. We’ve got loads of time,” he remarked.

“Why are you so quiet anyway, what’s up?” added Rich.

Doug turned back from staring at the proceedings by the security check
some two dozen people ahead in this queue and faced his friends. He was an
athletically built 27-year-old, just an inch short of six foot, and an
accomplished sportsman in various fields. In his working life he was a
swimming instructor and it was in this capacity that he knew Evan and Rich
who both worked at the same sports complex. Their mutual interest in skiing
had caused the three to become firm friends a few years before when they had
spontaneously decided during lunch one working day to go on a winter-sports
get-away together. In the meantime this had become a regular annual
arrangement between the three of them.

Doug hesitated, then replied in a low voice. His face was clouded over with
concern. “I’m bursting for a piss. I’ve really got to go.”

Evan gave him a sympathetic look. “Ah, so that’s what been bothering you.
Well, you’re not the only one, I need to go as well. Soon as we’re through
the barrier we’ll find the gents, right?”

Rich nodded. “Makes three of us,” he added. “That beer we had at Manchester
wants out!” He grinned at the other two and winked at Doug who was looking
mildly panicked.

Doug turned back to look at the hordes of travellers who had joined the
queue behind them. The spotlessly clean, carpeted, dimensionally vast but
largely unfurnished area in which they were queueing, was currently
accommodating well over a hundred people, of all types and ages but all with
the same expression of boredom combined with tension and exhaustion which
distinguished them as long distance travellers. But none of them could be
in such a desperate state as Doug was now.

He turned back to his friends and swallowed as he used the opportunity, now
that he had their attention, to voice the thought which had been on his mind
for the last quarter of an hour, a thought which had gradually changed from
a possibility into a firm certainty in his mind during that time. His mouth
was dry as he spoke. “I’m not going to make it till we get through this
queue. I’m gonna have to go back and use the toilets we passed on the way
here,” he stated, gripping his crotch through his grey sweatpants as he spoke.
His whole body felt as if it was getting ready to release the pent-up pressure,
whether he allowed it to or not, and squeezing his dick as he had been doing
intermittently was no longer really helping, though he did so again now.

Evan and Rich both frowned. “But they were miles back there!” said Rich,
referring to the toilets which he too had spotted as they passed them shortly
after exiting the plane, remembering that he had considered nipping in at
the time before deciding to wait till they were in the airport concourse.
“And you’ll have to queue from the back again, by yourself. Come on, Douggie,
you can’t go back now.”

Evan agreed. “That’s right, hold on mate. We’re nearly through the barrier,”
he added. “Five, ten minutes at the most!”

As Evan was speaking the queue was moving and Doug found himself being
propelled along for another few feet. He removed his hand from his crotch
as he was forced to walk again, grimacing as he struggled to hold his
bursting bladder shut. There were just two more corners to turn in the
snaking queue, and they were indeed near to the front now, but he knew it
was no good. Evan’s estimate was on the optimistic side and it looked like
a good ten minutes in Doug’s judgment. There was no way he would survive
that now without completely wetting himself in the queue. Unthinkable.

“No, I’ve got to go right now. I’m sorry, guys. I’ll join you later in the
airport lounge,” Doug stammered slightly breathlessly as he prepared to fight
his way back through the hordes of people. His mind was racing to recall the
route back to where they had passed the toilets. Time was of the essence if
he was going to make it. He muttered a quick “sorry” once again and turned
to go. The stares he was getting from people behind who had heard what he
said to Rich and Evan were irrelevant: all he needed was relief.

He was halted by Rich’s firm hand on his arm pulling him back. “Wait, look!”
said Rich.

As he felt his pee about to escape, Doug clamped it off and wheeled back round
ready to push Rich’s hand away and escape. But Rich was pointing towards the
security checkpoint. Doug glanced up and saw that Rich had a good reason to be
pulling him back. The two streams of people which had been steadily, and
agonisingly slowly, trickling through the security area, were about to be
increased to five as a team of extra security personnel was opening up
three extra checkpoints. Officers were beckoning to people ahead at the front
of the queue, and the entire queue was now moving steadily forward.

“We’re going straight through, Douggie!” said Rich to him. “Hold tight and
you’re gonna make it. We’re almost there,” he added.

“Oh thank God!” said Doug under his breath and started trotting forward with
his friends as the crowds in front moved purposely forward. In an instant
they had rounded the first corner formed by the queue barriers and were
approaching the second and final one.

“Yep, we’re getting straight through, I reckon,” Evan confirmed, touching Doug
gently on his back to encourage him as they continued walking.

But the family group in front of the three mates was stopped with a hand
signal from a security official and everyone came to an abrupt halt. The
five security stations ahead were now all busy once again, people were
removing coins and keys from their pockets, placing bags on conveyor belts,
answering questions about liquids, mobile phones and laptops, and so on.
The group at the front of the queue stood patiently. Evan and Rich glanced
anxiously at Doug and then at each other, concerned. Doug was swaying slightly
from side to side, his breathing could be heard as heavy, irregular panting
as he stared wildly at the security points. Rich and Evan watched as he
grabbed himself in the crotch again. Both of them needed to pee as well, but
nothing like the way Doug obviously had to.

Doug summoned all his willpower to hold on as they all stood waiting in
silence. For a brief moment, as the crowds at the security check points
showed no sign of getting through, he actually considered running back after
all to the toilets they had passed.

Why on Earth hadn’t he gone in and peed when they had passed them before,
he asked himself as he struggled. Why hadn’t he gone on the plane, or at
Manchester airport even? It would have spared him this agony and the
panicky feeling that he was about to let go and totally wet his pants in
front of his friends and hundreds of other travellers in a situation where
he would not be able to do anything about it and would have to board the
second flight soaking in piss.

Well, at Manchester he had not needed to pee very much at all. The three of
them had enjoyed a pint of beer together at one of the bars, and while both
Evan and Rich and been for a piss after that, Doug had not felt the first
tinglings in his bladder until they were lined up for boarding. This had
not worried him unduly as he figured he would use the plane’s toilet once
they had taken off. His seat by the window meant that Rich and Evan would have
to move out into the aisle to let him out, but while they were taxiing to
the runway he was still intending to swallow his pride once they were airborne
and the “fasten seatbelt” sign was off, admit he needed the toilet and get
them to move for him. He would normally prefer to avoid the embarrassment of
having to walk down the full plane so that everyone could see that this
strapping 27-year-old guy needed a pee and could not wait the 45 minutes
until they arrived in London, but the pressure he felt in his bladder
suggested to Doug that relief was more important.

This had not transpired. The aisle had filled up with trolleys shortly after
take-off completely blocking the aisle as the stewardesses handed out a snack
and a plastic container of water to each passenger, followed later in the
flight by a cup of orange juice. Meanwhile Evan and Rich had their tray tables
down as they leisurely sipped their drinks and enjoyed the short flight, and
despite the fact that Doug too had added the water and juice to the large
beer inside him and was starting to feel a bit desperate, he had finally
decided he could and should wait until they had landed and were in the airport
building where he could let it go in the men’s room there without causing a
huge fuss.

The long wait in the busy skies above Heathrow, followed by the delays after
landing before they could reach the gate and finally the crowds of people
blocking the way as they collected their hand-luggage, all led to Doug
wishing he had gone in the plane’s toilet despite the difficulties as he held
his swollen bladder shut. It also put him into a “must find a toilet as first
priority!” frame of mind as the three friends walked up the ramp of the
airbridge into the building.

This was where he had made a serious mistake. There, right after they had
entered the terminal building, was a sign saying “Toilets”. Here he had
hesitated a moment, realised that Evan and Rich had walked on ahead, and
decided to wait until they were in the main concourse rather than looking
silly by calling them back.

There had followed a lengthy walk along carpeted corridors as the three guys
followed the signs for transfers to other flights, turning various corners
and passing through several doors, before they finally entered the security
area and were confronted with the enormous queue ahead.

Doug had gone very quiet as they waited, taking no part in the conversation
as he struggled to hold his piss. He kept trying to monitor their progress
through the long queue, all the time trying to judge if he could make it or
if he needed to dash back through the corridors that they had just come
through. He had only finally decided, now panicking, that it would have to be
the latter, when they had been queueing for twenty-five minutes and were about
three quarters of the way through the line, and that was when he admitted his
plight to his mates. It was also the point when the security staff opened
up the extra stations and they surged forward to the front.

“You’ll be okay, Doug, just another few moments and you can let it go,” said
Evan to him as they stood waiting to be allowed through. Rich added his
support too: “Hang on in there mate, we’re almost there.” Both guys were
engrossed in the spectacle as Doug walked on the spot, his fist clenching and
unclenching rythmically on the crotch of his sweatpants as he struggled,
and both friends felt concerned as they watched to see if their mate was
going to make it.

The family in front were waved through, and almost at once, to their relief,
so were Doug, Evan and Rich. Rich pushed Doug gently in the back as they
received their signal from the furthest security station on the right, and
Doug stumbled ahead of his friends to the conveyor belt, pressed his legs
tightly together as he stopped to drop his bag and jacket there, muttered
“no” to the officer’s monotone “any coins, keys, mobile phone?”, and
staggered forwards through the detection gate. He could see a sign saying
“toilets” ahead and he braced himself to run for it.

But the bell sounded as he went through. “Excuse me Sir, could you step
towards me?” came a voice to his right. It was a young uniformed lad who
looked barely twenty years old.

Doug turned numbly towards the voice. His belly felt ready to explode. The
lad made eye contact with Doug and asked: “Do you have any metal, any coins
for example in your pockets?”

Doug gulped, felt in the soft fabric of the pockets of his sweatpants which
were empty, and pressed on his cock with one hand through one of the pockets
as he did so. He felt the security guy watching this intently. Doug felt
dampness as he held his cock through the fabric. A squirt of pee escaped
into his briefs.

“No, nothing,” he answered, and kept pushing on his cock to stop the
escaping pee. “I think maybe my shoes set the alarm off,” he added
breathlessly. He kept his hands in his pockets as he fought to regain control.
His bladder was throbbing painfully.

“Extend your arms out to the sides please, Sir, and stand with your legs
slightly apart like this,” said the uniformed lad, demonstrating the
position which he required Doug to adopt.

Doug removed his hands from his pockets and shakily obeyed. But a jet of wee
came out as he did so and Doug felt the hot wetness on one side of his groin.
Desperately he dropped one hand back down and clamped it onto his dick
through the pants. “Arms out to the sides,” repeated the officer.

Doug felt tears stinging his eyes but obeyed, raising his arms as required.
With all his might he managed to cut off the stream of piss which was making
its way down his urethra and grimaced as the lad started feeling around his
collar and then along his arms.

The lad worked his way along to both wrists, returned his hands to Doug’s
trunk and felt down his back, then over his chest. Doug grunted involuntarily
and shuddered as another spasm caused him to release more piss into his
moist underwear. “Just relax please, Sir,” prompted the young officer who was
now descending to a crouching position in preparation for feeling Doug’s
lower half. Doug grunted in agony as he felt more pee forcing its way out.
Some ran down his left leg to knee level. He trembled with the effort as
he fought to stop it.

The young officer stopped and looked for a moment, then glanced back up at
Doug’s face. “Are you concealing any liquids in your clothes, Sir?” he

Doug looked down at the lad and at his own sweatpants. He could see that one
of the pant-legs was streaked darker at the top and down nearly to the knee
by the pee which had just forced its way out. “No, I just need to urinate
urgently,” he stammered in a cracked voice, and followed this admission up by
dropping his right hand back down from its extended position, clamping it
round his crotch again in front of the lad’s eyes and squeezing his dick shut
as the latter stared suspiciously at his actions.

“I see. Please keep your arms extended as they were, Sir, this won’t take
long,” replied the officer after a pause of a few seconds while he observed
Doug’s desperate cock-holding intently.

As Doug extended his arm back out to the side, he experienced the terrible
sensation of being about to lose it. He could feel the uniformed kid’s hands
feeling round his waist at the front and back, over his buttocks, and then
touching him on the damp area to either side of his groin, and at this point
Doug felt his piss flowing. Nothing he could do would stop it now. As he
started to wet himself completely he could sense the security lad stopping
again with the actions and looking. Then, to his complete shame, he sensed the
young officer pull the waistband of his sweatpants out and slightly down and
look at the wettening bulge of his briefs as he assured himself that this
liquid was indeed urine and was indeed pouring out of Doug’s penis rather than,
say, explosive material from some concealed storage in Doug’s pants.

Doug’s flow of piss increased to full proportions as his bladder gave way
completely. The piss started dripping directly from Doug’s crotch onto the
floor and additionally ran down his legs while the officer felt there round
his thighs and calves. Completing the thorough job without further comment,
the lad finally felt all round Doug’s shoes as these also filled with Doug’s
pee and squelched slightly as he felt round them.

Finally the guy in the blue uniform looked back up for a last checking glance
at Doug’s soaking pants as Doug continued to empty his bladder into them,
and performed a double-check of the nature of the liquid by sniffing
cautiously. Apparently satisfied he stood up and looked Doug in the eye.

“Thankyou for your co-operation, Sir, and I apologize for having to delay you
at such an inconvenient time. Have a pleasant journey.”

Doug nodded and turned away. Various people were staring at him, he was
vaguely aware, and as his piss-flow dwindled and the trembling in his thighs
and buttocks from all the straining subsided, he steeled himself to ignore
the hundreds of eyes on him and the comments and sniggering he could hear from
complete strangers as he made his way to the conveyor belt to reclaim his bag
and his jacket. The tears which he was holding back started to flow, however,
as he felt his friend Evan’s arm slip round his waist while he was picking his
things up.

“Hey, Douggie, let’s get you sorted out,” Evan was saying. Rich was standing
by looking at him compassionately too as Doug gulped, wiped his eyes and
looked up.

“What’s your waist and inside leg measurement, Douggie?” asked Rich. “I’ll
go and buy you some things to change into at the airport shops. You’ll be OK,
we’ll soon have you sorted out.” Doug told him his measurements through his
tears. “You help him get cleaned up, Evan,” continued Rich, “I’ll meet you
both there in the men’s room when I’ve bought something.”

“Thanks, thanks a lot, man” said Doug, wiping his eyes and cheering up.

He and Evan headed for the toilets. “Just ignore anyone who comments Douggie,”
said Evan, “this can happen to anyone. Take it easy, mate. We’ll soon have you
sorted out and we’ll soon be on our way again. I can’t wait to start skiing!”

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  1. Another great story. Keep them coming – you are very good.

  2. Great story. I needed a tissue when the security officer asked ‘Are you concealing any liquids in your clothes, Sir?’

  3. Wow – once again a masterpice – i found myself with emotions of Yes I can imagine that happening to me mixed with horny lust and a bit of laughter – pefectly written and timed

  4. WOW cool I wanted to piss my pants as I was reading it…….OH wait I did…..UMMMMMMMMMMMMM

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