Relief In 750 Words

This story is part of Literotica's

750 Word Project 2024

.

*

Bedmond's City Hall Spring Ball was the event of the year, the Friday before Memorial Day. Perfect timing--the Christmas holiday season busyness and bills were history, and summer was peeking around the corner.

Bedmond was an hour from The Big City, close enough to not be too far, and far enough to not be too close. Unlike The Big City, it was growing at a healthy clip as working remotely gained popularity, outlet malls sprung up like mushrooms in a forest, and the new Costco removed the need for the long drive.

That meant tonight's Ball in the Hall was more crowded than ever, witnessed by the line outside the ancient building's Ladies restroom. Even the Mens had a short line. I couldn't wait, though. Three beers were three beers, and more than one man's bladder can hold. I needed relief. Bad.

The beer felt like it had reached the top of my brain--serious pressure. Being a guy, I opted to seek relief the caveman way, and speed walked down the corridor to the emergency exit--well-named, I thought through the sloshing inside my skull. Stepping into the dark outside, I hurried to some bushes that could provide some cover. To speed things up, I unzipped my pants and got Big Bobby ready to let loose once we'd found privacy.

Suddenly, I heard rhythmic noises. It sounded remarkably like the sex my then-girlfriend (now wife) Brenda and I had in parks on our college campus when our roommates occupied our rooms, precluding more comfortable coupling.

I rounded a large bush, ready to let go, and two things happened to end my world. Three things, actually. The first was the sight of my wife lying on the ground, legs spread and knees bent. Second was our neighbor Drew Hammond's scrawny ass pumping away between those legs. Third was his distinctive, whiny voice. "I'm gonna cum!"

Everything in my brain disconnected, opening Big Bobby's sluice gates and spraying my beers over my neighbor. At first he didn't notice, probably consumed by his illicit climax. Big Bobby, perhaps executing the pre-programmed 'silence' drill, sprayed back and forth, which of course brought my slut-wife into his sights. I think some might have hit her face, but for sure her clothes absorbed the pleasant warmth of my plentiful pee.

Despite the chaos on the ground, my overriding priority was relief. I couldn't think. Anyone who's experienced the bliss of an epic piss can relate. Goosebumps and mind numbing relief.

And it just wouldn't stop.

Whether it was the stench or the never-ending flow, I couldn't tell, but Brenda reacted first, belting out a blood-curdling shriek. "Stop! Help!"

Neighbor Drew, blindsided by

orgasmus interruptus,

withdrew his spurting member and yelled, "What the fuck?"

I was not done. I hadn't gone potty for maybe an hour before the three beers, so the pent-up stream remained unstoppable. Drew's pants, still around his ankles, got their full soaking, as well as my 'loving' wife's dress, now exposed as her new boyfriend uncovered her body.

Brenda seemed to come to her senses fast. With a major scowl and thrust, she toppled her fuckbuddy off of her. She turned her face to me, thunder and lightning in her eyes. Opening her mouth and taking a breath to tell me off, though, was a big mistake.

Attempting to focus my attention to what she might say, Big Bobby's river of relief hit her first in the mouth and then her eyes and hair. Choking and shaking her head were all she could do to survive the onslaught.

All good things come to an end, the saying goes, and my fire hose finally ran dry. Shaking Big Bobby off, I tucked him back in his snug little nest and zipped up. "Don't even think of coming home, slut," I spat, and turned to leave.

I was tempted to trample my neighbor's gonads to dust, but I didn't want to contaminate my shoes with the pee dripping from his naked ass. Who knows? He might add to the mess, so I simply turned and retreated to the big party, the pain of betrayal replacing the relief from my empty bladder.

"Have you seen Drew?" Maria, his wife, asked when she saw me.

I pointed outside. "He and Brenda are taking a shower together."

Epilogue

Maria knows people, and Drew and Brenda ended up in a Mexican whorehouse before the Fourth. Don't ask how I know.

I'm careful to avoid Maria. And having a too-full bladder.