The Driving Lesson

Richard glanced up from his breakfast as Grant, one of his two housemates,
entered the room bleary-eyed. The other occupant of the house, Philip, had got
up and left for an early lecture before either of them had got out of bed.
All three lads were second-year students at the city’s university.

“Good evening,” said Richard brightly as he chewed on a crust of bread.

“Eh-heh” mumbled Grant humourlessly in reply as he shuffled to the cupboard
for a plate and knife. In contrast to Richard, who had put on his best pair
of stone-grey jeans and a yellow teeshirt, Grant was still in the underwear
in which he had presumably slept.

Grant plonked the plate onto the table opposite his house-mate, reached into
the bread packet in front of Richard to extract a couple of slices, then
headed for the cupboard once again and took out a glass. “Thought you had a
driving lesson,” he remarked to Richard.

“I do, the instructor’s coming at ten,” replied Richard. Unlike his less
fortunate student house-mates, Richard had succeeded in persuading his
parents that he needed to learn to drive and that they should finance the
expensive but necessary driving lessons for him. And today was the day of
his first session, an extra-long introductory lesson of an hour and a half.
Richard tingled with antipication once again as he thought about the
challenge of his morning ahead. Then he heard Grant opening the door of the
fridge for the juice carton, and he looked down at the table guiltily as he
waited for Grant’s inevitable outburst.

Grant was as annoyed as Richard had expected. “Oh, for…! Richard, if we’re
sharing food and drink in this house you have got to learn to leave some of it
for Phil and me! You’ve had the whole carton of juice! Phil never drinks any,
you had it all. And what’s the point of putting an empty carton back in the
fridge, anyway?”

“There’s a bit left in there,” replied Richard defensively. “Sorry, I got
wasn’t thinking. I’ll go and buy some more after my lesson.”

“You’d better do that,” replied Grant, draining the last few paltry drops of
orange juice straight into his mouth from the carton, then heading for the
kettle. “I suppose you’ve thought to leave some coffee in the jar for me, or
did you finish that up too?”

“Of course there’s coffee left,” replied Richard. “Look I said I’m sorry and
I’m buying some more juice later. My mind’s just on my driving lesson at the
moment, alright?”

Grant calmed down and regained an affable tone. “Alright then,” he replied,
then with a glance at Richard’s empty coffee mug added: “you want some more
coffee?”

“Yeah, thanks mate, I appreciate it,” said Richard, anxious to cancel out the
note of discord that had been struck. The last thing he needed right now was
an argument with his house-mate. “It’ll calm my nerves a bit,” he added with
a disarming grin at Grant as the latter filled the kettle, switched it on,
then collected Richard’s empty mug and a new one for himself.

During the next half hour the two young guys chatted amiably as they
breakfasted together and drank up their mugs of coffee. Richard relaxed as the
new fresh coffee added itself in his stomach to the previous mugful which he
had made for himself in addition to the over-generous amount of orange juice
which he had also consumed, and he let Grant’s company ease the anxiety
which he naturally felt about the coming ninety-minute lesson.

It was 9.50 when Grant finally stood up and went to get dressed. Richard,
seeing that he had ten minutes before his instructor was due, headed into the
hall by the front door in anticipation. A glance through the window in the
door at the street outside revealed as yet no driving school car, so Richard
rubbed his sweaty palms together in nervous anticipation and then went and
stood in front of the hall mirror to check his appearance. His short, dark
hair was nicely in place with the gel he had applied that morning, he noted
with approval. His yellow teeshirt showed up his muscular torso well, and the
grey designer jeans were fitting snugly round his groin and buttocks.

As Richard admired his reflection, his thoughts returned to Wendy, the girl
whom he always made a point of sitting nearby in lectures and who, just
yesterday, had smiled and said “Hi” to him as they had passed in a corridor.
Richard was determined to ask her out the next time he saw her. Grant and
Phil both had steady girlfriends in college, and he knew that in the eyes of
his housemates the onus was on him to become similarly set up with a member
of the opposite sex. Richard admired himself again in the mirror and thought
how great it would be if Wendy saw him behind the wheel of the driving school
car while they were out that morning. He imagined how he would wave and smile
at her from behind the wheel, and how impressed she would surely be.

His reverie was interrupted by Grant who was now dressed and had poked his
head out into the hall. “If you’re done with preening yourself, Richard,
there’s a bloke in a driving school car parked out there in the street.”

Richard instantly headed for the door. With a “Thanks, see you later, man,” he
plunged outside into the warm spring morning, slamming the door shut behind
him. He strode towards the car, a small blue Peugeot emblazoned with L-plates
and the name of the driving school. A guy of about thirty, wearing a shirt and
jeans which looked comfortable though less trendy than Richard’s, had emerged
from the car and was heading for the student house, but he stopped as he saw
Richard approaching. “Hi, I’m Richard Hughes,” said Richard, masking his
nervousness with a smile which was as confident and macho as he could manage.

The instructor shook his hand. “Perry Bradshaw, nice to meet you Richard,”
said the man, returning the smile. “Please call me Perry, I find first-name
terms easiest in my lessons. I’m a few minutes early, but we might as well
begin straight away and you’ll get those extra minutes free as a first-lesson
benefit. We’ve got an hour and a half booked for you as it’s your first
lesson, so we’ve got until eleven-thirty to really cover the basics.” He
gestured towards the passenger seat. “If you’d like to get in this side just
for the moment, I’ll take the wheel, then as soon as we’re in a quieter street
we’ll have you sitting in the driver’s seat instead.”

Perry walked round the car to the driver’s door and Richard gulped in nervous
anticipation as he opened the passenger door, sat down and put his seatbelt
on. Perry was in full flow as he sat down next to Richard behind the wheel.
“We’ll just head for the quiet streets off Stoke Lane, and then we’ll go
through the basics of the controls…”

Richard drew in a shaky breath as he settled in the seat and listened to his
new instructor while the car sped off up the road to the T-junction ahead.
His attention, even at this early stage, was only partly on what Perry was
saying. As he had sat down he had felt a mild but distinct twinge in his
bladder. Now gingerly touching himself around his midriff, Richard could
sense that some of that juice and coffee was on the way through. He frowned
to himself as he wondered why he hadn’t thought to use the toilet before coming
out. Bladder discomfort during his first driving lesson would be rather
irritating.

Still, thought Richard, he was used to holding his piss in lectures and
tutorials at university which lasted a length of time comparable with the mere
hour and a half which this driving lesson would take. End-of-term exams even
lasted three hours, and he’d always managed to last through those too without
the embarrassment of having to put up his hand and ask an invigilator to escort
him to the toilet as he had noticed other students having to do on occasion.
Even in that last exam in December when he’d felt he wanted to go to the toilet
barely an hour after the start and had had to hold a full bladder right to the
end, Richard had still not made an ass of himself by drawing any attention to
his problem. He had had to fidget and hold himself, especially in the last
twenty minutes, but his bladder had held out. If he could last through an exam
like that, then he could last through this much shorter driving lesson. Even
so, it was annoying to have to hold his pee in, and Richard resolved to make
sure he peed before his lesson next time: an empty bladder would be less
distracting and help him concentrate on learning to drive which was what he
really wanted to do.

The car was drawing up at the side of the road in a quiet residential street
and Perry was now indicating that they should swap seats. Richard tensed
his stomach muscles in answer to the bladder twinge he received as he climbed
out of his seat, and he felt the juice and coffee sloshing slightly inside
him as he walked round to the driver’s door and eased himself into the seat.
Slightly anxiously he tested his bladder once more on sitting down, wished
once again that he’d not been so stupid as to forget to pee before coming out,
but then put the thought firmly out of his head again as Perry began his
instruction, showing Richard the mirrors, seat adjustors, and the controls
of the car.

They were stationary with the engine off for about twenty minutes as Perry
covered the basics which Richard would need to know before actually being
allowed to drive. Richard’s kept his attention on the instruction as best he
could. The pressure in his nether regions was noticably greater than it had
been, but he was ignoring it as much as he could, the only exception being
when Perry had him adjusting the driver’s seat so that should be able to
see all corners of the car, depress the pedals without completely extending
his legs, and “feel absolutely comfortable”. Richard found himself jumping
slightly and nearly weeing a spurt into his underwear at the point when his
instructor indicated the lever down between Richard’s legs, and as Richard
moved his seat forwards and backwards on its runners he felt himself straining
a little as the now rather persistent pressure inside him tried to eject
pee into his pants. He adjusted the crotch of his stone-grey jeans slightly
as Perry repeated “make sure you are absolutely comfortable”, and for a
moment his mind flashed back to the later stages of that exam in December when
– let’s be honest now – he had almost resigned himself to the necessity of
putting up his hand in front of a hundred other students and asking to be able
to leave as he struggled to hold it. But he had still held it then without
anyone even knowing how desperate he had been. And that exam was much longer
than this lesson. Richard now relegated his bladder firmly to the back of
his mind.

The verbal instruction was followed by some driving. In the quiet street
Perry had Richard continually looking in the mirrors, indicating, and pulling
away into the street, then looking again in the mirror, indicating again, and
stopping at the side of the road. It was a lengthy repetitive exercise, one
which Perry wanted perfected before they drove off anywhere else, and Richard
was delighted at actually driving a car for the first time in his life.

After a further twenty minutes practising this exercise in the quiet
residential road, they proceeded onto the slightly busier Stoke Lane and
continued the mirror, signal and stopping and starting exercises in the
presence of other light traffic and building up a bit more speed, changing
up through the gears before stopping again. As before, Perry was making
Richard repeat this again and again as Richard gradually mastered the
technique. At a few points, in addition to what had become a fairly constant
movement of his buttocks on the seat, Richard had by now begun to counter what
had become constant pressure and discomfort with occasional squeezes and
adjustment of his crotch, prompting an admonishing “keep both hands on the
wheel” from his instructor. He rode through the discomfort with the nervous
thrill of actually being in charge of a car in traffic, quietening the
sudden concern in his mind when a really serious pang hit him which required
a major moment of concentration and straining to avoid releasing the contents
of his now full bladder into his underwear and jeans and all over the car
seat by glancing at the car’s clock: he over-rode his anxiety as he saw that
there were now less than thirty minutes to go before the lesson would be over,
he would be back home and he could run for the bathroom and release it all.
Not long now then. He was okay, he told himself, he could hold this piss in
without any problem and his driving lesson was going well!

They were now stopped at the side of the road again. Richard used the
opportunity to settle back in his seat, drop his hands from the wheel to his
groin and massage himself down there between his legs as his instructor
outlined the next stage of the lesson. He felt very full, and in a moment of
fresh nervousness he glanced out of the window briefly, wondering if he should
interrupt Perry in his spiel and jump out to find some tree behind which he
could whip it out and let go. That would be very embarrassing, but the throb
in his bladder was steady and persistent causing Richard serious problems now.
He really needed to go to the toilet.

Next Richard looked back at the digital clock in the car. The desperation he
was feeling was tempered with the observation that it was now almost 11.10
and there were just twenty minutes of his lesson left to get through. Well, of
course he could hold it that long! No point in losing face and introducing a
ridiculous, pathetic note to his first driving lesson now. It had gone by
really quickly too: he was going to see this through! And his instructor
was just confirming this thought with the concluding remark: “…And by the
time you’ve driven us along those town streets, using your mirror and
indicating as we’ve been practising, we’ll be heading back to your house
and concluding the lesson. Now, in your own time, move out into the traffic
and take the next turn on the left. Remember the mirror-signal-manoevre
routine in everything you do.”

Richard lifted his hands back out of his lap, strained once more to keep his
bladder – which felt like a football – contained, depressed the clutch pedal
with his left foot, engaged first gear, then and looked for a final time into
the rear-view and side mirrors as he had been doing repetitively before. This
time he saw the image of a car approaching in the mirror, and Richard
started a little on seeing it, dropping his right hand off the wheel and
holding himself once again through the crotch of his jeans as he waited for
it to pass. His left leg trembled as it held the clutch pedal down. Once
again Richard found himself straining to avoid doing it in his pants. He
cursed to himself under his breath and wished yet again that he had gone to
the toilet before coming out.

“It’s fine, relax, you’re doing okay. Just let the car past and continue when
you know it is safe to do so,” encouraged Perry.

Richard brought his swollen bladder back under control, checked his mirrors
once again as the vehicle passed by, then indicated to pull out. Bringing
his other hand back off his crotch onto the steering wheel, he gave some
gas and brought his trembling left foot up on the clutch pedal as he
made to move the car out into the road once again. This time the car jerked
as Richard released the handbrake and they rolled forward.

“Bit more gas, and don’t lose that biting point on the clutch,” said Perry
calmly. “And just relax, Richard, you’re doing very well. Take the next turn
on the left.”

Despite the worryingly severe nature of his most recent bladder spasm, Richard
tried to relax in the seat and almost enjoy driving the car along the streets
of the city suburbs as he forced himself to carry out the mirror and signal
routines, changing gear appropriately as they drove through several more
junctions under Perry’s direction, and then came out onto a broader street.
Richard glanced momentarily at some pedestrians at the side, hoping that Wendy
might just be one of them and being ready to wave to her if she was despite
that not being one of the techniques which Perry had been drumming into him
during the previous hour. But then his thoughts were yanked straight back to
his bladder.

“Turn into the side road by that grey building ahead,” Perry was saying.
Richard looked in the rear-view mirror once again and prepared to move over to
the middle of the road as they had drilled before. But his heart was pounding
furiously, his bladder was contracting and, despite knocking his legs back and
forth as he drove, this time Richard was not controlling it. A small jet of
wee spurted into his pants.

Trembling all over now, Richard executed the manoevre to turn across the
oncoming traffic. “Signal, signal!” reminded his instructor. Richard got
through the turn as another spurt of hot pee escaped and wettened his
groin. As he brought the car back into a straight line from the turn he
felt the terrible sensation of just not being able to hold it anymore.

Perry was starting to criticise the execution of that turn into a side road
to correct his pupil, but Richard interrupted him with a voice that sounded
squeaky and puerile and was driven by complete panic as he continued to
drive the car forwards. “I’ve gotta go to the toilet. I’m bursting!” he
blurted out.

Perry paused at his pupil’s interruption, glanced over at him, then replied:
“Okay. Well, there’s a supermarket just up here. We can pull in and you can
go.”

But a new hot squirt escaped and blasted into Richard’s lap as he felt the
dam about to break completely. It was too late for any supermarket up the road
which might or might not have a toilet. It was too late to even contemplate
finding any toilet and going in to do what he had to do in any normal fashion.
The one thing Richard now had to do was to get out of that car because he was
about to wee all over the seat.

“No, I’m really really bursting. I’ve got to stop, I can’t wait!” replied
Richard putting his foot on the brake pedal.

Without doing any of the preparatory moves which his instructor had drilled
into him, he brought the car to a jerky stop at the side of the road, stalling
the engine as he failed to put the clutch out, then fumbled for the
handbrake as the pee gushed out of him and ballooned into his underwear,
collecting in a warm pool underneath. No longer in any control of his pissing
whatsoever, Richard fumbled with the fly of the now warm, soaking grey jeans
as he pulled at the door handle with his other hand and jumped out of the
car, the damp backside of his jeans detaching itself from the car seat.

Turning to face the car, and under the astonished stare of his instructor,
Richard unzipped his flies and tried to extract his manhood, but it was too
late. The piss pouring down his legs in a warm torrent, Richard just stood
wetting himself through his underpants. It just went on and on, the large
quantities of orange juice and coffee now seeping through the grey designer
denim as hot man-piss, totally disgracing the jeans’ owner as he continued to
stand there wetting them helplessly. Richard gasped and sighed as the
terrible internal pressure which had come on so brutally during the previous
hour, catching him completely unawares when he thought he could hold it
longer than he actually could, now subsided slowly to be replaced by soaking
wetness which was still bubbling downwards through his underwear and cooling
as it soaked his best stone-washed jeans. And still it flowed on out as Richard
remained standing there, wetting his pants in front his instructor and various
passers-by. The image of Wendy seeing him this morning returned perversely
in Richard’s mind as he continued to wet himself, causing him to cringe and
avoid any eye contact with anyone around him.

Time had seemed to stand still, but then Richard was aware of a gentle touch
on his back. Perry had switched off the ignition of the car and secured it,
then after watching for a while he had got out and come round to where his
devastated pupil was still standing and adding to a stream which was running
under the car and into the gutter. “Why didn’t you say you needed the toilet
so badly?” he asked.

Richard looked up at Perry, his face aghast at what he had just done. “I
thought I could wait,” he replied. “Suddenly I couldn’t.”

There was a silence for a while. Then Perry said, “Well, we had nearly finished
anyway. I guess this rather winds the lesson up.”

Richard nodded. Gingerly he felt in his groin, trying to ascertain whether
he had actually finished peeing since the aching numbness down there was
making it hard for him to tell. The feel of the still warm, sodden material was
combined in Richard’s senses with the visual evidence of wetness which
extended all the way down the trouserlegs and a soggy feeling in his socks.
He started to move round to the passenger door, the wet jeans chafing against
his legs and his feet squelching in his trainers. “Could you take me home,
please?” he said abjectly to his instructor.

“Well, just wait while I get some newspaper out of the back,” replied Perry,
heading for the tailgate of his car. “You’ll have to sit on that. You’ve got
the driver’s seat a bit damp too, but I hope I can dry that out in time before
my next pupil,” he remarked in a level voice which wasn’t really accusatory
but still made Richard cringe again.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered pathetically.

“It’s alright, at least you got out of the car before you really let it all
go,” his instructor responded. “It should be okay.”

Richard stood still in mortification as Perry produced some newspaper, set
the bulk of it down on the passenger seat and used the other few sheets to
wipe away at the driver’s seat for a short time. Then he indicated that
Richard should get in and sit down on the newspaper.

Closing the tailgate and joining the lad in the car, Perry then started the
engine and drove off in the direction of the student house where he had picked
his pupil up. There was a short silence, then he spoke again.

“You’re a quick learner, Richard. It’s not every pupil of mine who is already
driving in traffic before the end of his first lesson. You’ve still got a
lot to learn, but we’ll cover that with you in the coming weeks.”

“Thanks, okay,” replied Richard in a low voice. He was acutely aware of
the smell of his pee which was wafting up from his soaking jeans and filling
the air of the car, and also of the way the newspaper he was sitting on was
becoming saturated as it soaked up his urine. For an awful moment he
wondered if he was still wetting himself now in the car, and he felt
anxiously in his groin to assure himself that that was not so, but incredibly
he could feel that his bladder, having emptied itself so dramatically and
ecstatically into his jeans just five minutes before, was already beginning to
refill. He must have drunk a ridiculous quantity of juice and coffee for that
to be so, but there it was. Squeezing himself in his groin and shifting
uncomfortably on the seat in his wet clothes, Richard set his sights on
arriving home, getting into the bathroom, having another pee and getting
showered and changed. He hoped Grant would have gone out by now, but if he
hadn’t Richard would try to avoid him.

“Right, well that was a good lesson even though we had to cut it unexpectedly
short,” Perry was saying. “Will I see you at the same time next week?” He
drew up outside Richard’s house.

After Richard had paid him for the lesson and agreed the date and time for
the following one, Perry had one parting piece of advice: “Richard, next time
please use the bathroom before coming out. And if you need to go to the toilet
during the lesson, please just say. I don’t bite, you know. I just want to
help you to learn to drive as best I can, and that includes making sure you
are comfortable enough to handle the car.”

Richard took his leave, peeling the wet newspaper off his backside as he
got out of the car. As his instructor drove away, he spotted to his dismay
that both his housemates, Grant and Philip, were in the front room and that
Philip had spotted him. A moment later the front door opened.

With no chance now of hiding his appalling embarrassment from his friends,
Richard waddled over to the front door and presented himself to the two
lads who were staring at him open-mouthed.

The next hour was not as humiliating for Richard as it might have been. Both
housemates were amused, and in fact Philip could not stop laughing for the
first few minutes after the arrival of his mate, but they both cooperated by
helping Richard remove his soaking shoes and socks before getting a towel
to dry his feet and ushering him to the bathroom where they helped him out
of his soaking jeans, gave him a bit of space while he peed again and showered,
then had a sympathetic chat with cups of coffee in the living room when he had
finally put on some spare clothes.

Most importantly, Richard extracted a promise from Philip and Grant that
neither of them would mention his accident to their girlfriends, nor to
Wendy whom Richard wanted to date, and nor to anyone else. After all, there
are some things which should remain private amongst good mates.

Related Articles

Responses

  1. The desperation aspect of the story is very well done. My experience is that when you’re desperate and holding it in you can’t concentrate on anything else. Richard’s lucky he was able to stop with no damage done.

  2. Now that is a story with believable actions from the characters. A lot deeper than most on this site. I am starting to wonder if this is actually real…

  3. @wet outdoors
    The details described are not real. But the story is based on a true account, with very sketchy details, posted on another site by someone who apparently heard it second hand themselves. So your intuition is not out of place. 🙂

People Who Like Thisx

Loading...