Connor is talking about his model trains again. It's not that I dislike trains specifically; it's just... not exactly the most riveting of subjects. Especially when you really have to pee. The sun's been blazing all day, and without air conditioning, I've been drinking water to stay cool. Probably more water than was prudent, I think wryly. I can feel my bladder pushing against the waistband of my athletic shorts, and I surreptitiously squeeze the end of my cock through the thin fabric as Connor rambles on excitedly.
"Oh man, though, I'm so excited to check out the Seattle Train Show this year. This is the first time I've lived close enough," he says, taking his eyes briefly off the road to glance at me. "You ok, Dylan?"
"Yeah, man, I just... I really have to pee," I confess. "Is there anywhere we can stop soon?" I look hopefully up the road, but there's nothing but brown fields for miles. "Was there a sign for a rest stop or anything?"
He scrunches his face for a second and then replies, "I don't think so, dude. I don't remember one, at least. Is it really that bad?" I side-eye him and don't respond.
A minute later, I groan inwardly at the pressure building in my bladder. The feeling of fullness is intense, and I know I can't wait much longer. A few more minutes go by, and I'm reduced to squeezing myself desperately through my shorts, rubbing my shaft and pinching my glans. Connor looks over a couple times sympathetically, but doesn't say anything. We come up over a small hill, and there's suddenly a turnoff into a parking lot with a few cars in it.
"Hey, Connor, maybe that's a park-n-ride or something. Maybe there's a bathroom," I say. He pulls his truck off the road and into one of the spaces, and I hop out, heading towards a small building at the end of the impossibly large lot. I wonder briefly why Connor didn't park closer to the building, but get distracted by my bladder surging in protest of my quickened pace. I know that I'm close to losing it.
Suddenly I notice a man walking away from the building, heading towards a truck. His white shirt is off and tucked into the back of his jeans, and his torso glistens with sweat. A very curly, light colored carpet of fur covers his bulging pectorals, and continues down his abs, disappearing into the front of his tight jeans. I take a couple of running steps toward him, but think better of it as my body threatens to soak my underwear.
"Hey, man! Is that a bathroom?" I yell towards him, waving with the hand that isn't pressed to my cock, trying to hold the dam against the torrent of piss that's trying to escape me.
He turns and sees me, and says, "Nah, it's just a tool shed for the equipment... hey, are you ok?" He looks concerned as I stumble to a stop in front of him, a stricken look on my face. I look into his impossibly light blue eyes as I feel a jet of hot pee escape my urethra and soak into the front of my underwear. His eyes widen as he sees the wet spot appear on my white shorts. "Are you...? Do..." he trails off as the spot widens. I can feel my muscles giving way as pee leaks out of my swollen cock, wetting my underwear. I hang my head.
"Hey, bud, it's ok. There aren't any bathrooms for miles; it happens to everybody," he says comfortingly. I don't look up, and suddenly feel his thick, furry arms wrap around me as my bladder releases in earnest; the pee shoots out of my dick, rushing through my underwear, a warm wetness that spreads quickly across my body.
And suddenly, my eyes blink open, and I'm awake in the darkness. But I'm still peeing. And there are still arms around me. I freeze, and terror causes me to pee even faster, creating a soft hissing noise as piss sprays through my briefs and into the bed. And onto Connor, whose muscled arms are, strangely, around me. We'd fallen asleep on separate sides, and now this. I can tell that our crotches are pressed against each other, and realize with a feeling of horror that my piss is soaking my underwear and going directly onto his cock. Which is... Stiffening? And is he sleeping naked?
Connor murmurs unintelligibly, and pulls me closer to him, my face pushing into the soft, curly hair on his chest, and my pissing dick shoving against his hardening cock as his pushes back against me. I flinch and close my eyes, but he doesn't seem to be waking up. His cocks twitches into a full erection as the hot piss from mine runs over it, and suddenly I feel his muscles tighten. He moans lightly, and I feel a hot, sticky liquid hit my chest as his cock twitches again. The torrent coming from my dick starts to slow as I feel jets of cum erupt from his pulsing rod, accompanied by a couple soft whimpers from one of us. I think it's him, but, to be honest, it could be me. Or both of us. Fuck if I know.
My mind races. I know he was asleep, as only a wet dream could have gotten him from arousal to cumming that quickly; I pray furiously to whatever god can hear me that he stays that way. I rack my brain as his body relaxes, trying to scheme some way of cleaning us up without him waking. My conniving is wasted, however, when I hear him give a soft sigh above my head.
"Dylan? Oh, sorry, man, I must have rolled over in my... WOAH," he says, reaching down between us. "Is this? Did I - you? Holy shit," he says, as I feel his hand running down the soaked sheet and across my taut stomach. "This wasn't me, was it? Is this... cum?" he asks, as his fingers touch the hot, thick liquid on the ridges of my stomach. He sits up and flips the light switch by the hotel bed, softly illuminating the bed as he pushes the upper sheet off of us.
I sit up. "Um... Yeah, it is," I say, my eyes wide, searching his eyes for his reaction. I'm still terrified as I say, "It's actually yours. I, um... Kinda wet the, uh... the bed." My mouth is as dry as the brown grass outside. He gives me a questioning look, and I continue, "I woke up to you holding me as I was wetting, and you, uh... You came on me while I was pissing on you." His eyes widen a bit and the corner of his mouth quirks up.
He gives a slight coughing laugh and puts the pad of his thumb on his lips as he looks down in what I guess is amused discomfort. "Well," he says with a slight chuckle. "This is kinda awkward, huh?" I purse my lips in apprehension and look down as well. He asks, "Would you believe I was dreaming about you when I came?" I look up, and I see him grin at me. I notice his cock swelling, lengthening along his naked thigh. His briefs are bunched around his ankles. They must have gotten dragged off while he moved in his sleep, I think, as I stare at the head of his growing, uncut cock.
"I, uh, was dreaming about something weird. I don't exactly remember, but you were there. And then somehow you ended up on top of me. And you were wetting yourself," Connor says, and I can hear the grin in his voice.
I feel my cheeks heat up in an uncontrollable blush. I laugh slightly as I say, "Well, that part was real, I guess. I'm so sorry, man."
