Jackie and Art didn't like each other. They were at this required work party solely out of obligation, and standing next to each other solely out of coincidence. Jackie sipped her champagne, the fourth glass she'd had tonight. Between glasses she'd also been chugging water, fearing a hangover that would no doubt disrupt tomorrow's Friday morning. Why did they have to schedule this godforsaken party on a Thursday?
Art was coincidentally in a similar boat. He hated the mundane awkwardness of the half-assed event almost as much as Jackie did, so it was a shame they'd never willingly converse. If they did, they'd discover their shared avoidance of sobriety this evening.
Art finished his current glass of water, and as he put it down, he realized that all his beverages were quickly catching up with him.
He glanced around, searching his surroundings for a bathroom. Finding none, he approached one of the party's staff.
"Excuse me, where's the bathroom?" Art asked.
"Terribly sorry, sir, both the bathrooms have gone out of order just now. We're working to get them fixed as quick as we can, and we thank you for your patience."
Art scoffed as the man turned away. Just his luck.
As he walked back to his corner, he noticed Jackie looking around just as he had moments ago, thighs ever so slightly pressed together. Jackie Barden. Ugh. Despite her long legs, beautiful tits, silky hair, and devastating face card, Art hated her. He hated her stupid glasses and perfect freckles. He hated her personality. And most of all he hated her for the time she nearly got him fired. He barely even touched that intern, and yet apparently the whole world needed to hear about it. Including his (now ex) girlfriend. Fucking Jackie Barden. What a waste of good looks.
During her second sweep of the perimeter, Jackie noticed Art looking at her. Fucking Art Taliman. A pervert and a would-be rapist whom she could not believe was still working for this awful company, despite her best efforts. His full brown hair and trim body had no doubt helped weasel him out of trouble. She was sick of the endless stream of second chances for sexual assaulters. What a waste of good looks. She glared at him. He smirked.
"Looking for the bathroom? Guess what, Jackie? They're out of order." Art caught a split second of fear in Jackie's eyes before she rearranged her features to convey the purest form of annoyance.
"I'm sure that worries you, seeing as you haven't matured past the age of potty training." Jackie dead panned.
Art rolled his eyes. "You can't fool me. I've seen how many waters you've been putting away."
"Don't worry, Art. I'm a big girl."
"Sure you are." Art said. Jackie thought she caught an edge to the look he gave her, which was bad news. Art was not a person you would want to seem attractive to, considering his selective lack of hearing the word "no." Jackie gulped, and tried to slouch even further.
Art's bladder was quickly advancing in his list of priorities, bumping Jackie Barden down at least 2 spaces. In fact, he had to intermittently cross his legs to keep from leaking. This was much more of a problem than he thought it was going to be.
Jackie noticed. "Wow, I thought I was just teasing but maybe I'm on to something. You're putting on a show." She smirked, her expression remaining slightly bored. Although, she herself was feeling the effects of all that liquid she'd ingested. Her bladder was rapidly filling as well.
"Fuck you, Jackie." Art's response was curt, and much less creative than Jackie was used to. His face was pinking and she noticed a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. His eyes were trained on the "out of order" signs that were now posted on the bathroom doors.
Jackie pondered a bit about what, if anything, she should do about Art's predicament. Of course, helping him never crossed her mind. Oh, no. If she couldn't face him with any real consequences for his actions, maybe this could count as one. It would certainly be embarrassing to wet yourself in front of all your coworkers and your boss. Maybe even enough to make you want to quit.
"I'm leaving this damn party," Art's response grumbled under his breath.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Jackie. Art's gaze turned to her, sour.
"And why ever not, in all your wisdom, Jackie Barden?"
"Because they're handing out awards at the end. Cash awards. And there's a rumor that they won't give them to you if you aren't there to accept them at the party. It's part of their attempt to get us to stay at these stupid things."
Art thought about this. It was certainly in line with what the company had done in the past.
"And why in the world would you, of all people, tell me that? You hate my guts, and would be very pleased at my lack of award." Art returned.
"Because I also heard that they're doing the awards in pairs, and as the two youngest employees at this stupid company, we would be one of them. And I want the money."
Art pondered once again. This could very well be a lie, knowing Jackie, who hated his very being and would potentially sacrifice her winnings if it meant preventing his. But then again, it was a definite risk. He also wanted that money.
"How much is the award?" He asked. Another bead of sweat formed on his forehead. His thighs were pressed together, hard.
"$3,000 per pair, or so I heard. I'm not sure if it's true, but I'd hate to lose out on that."
Fuck. $1,500 could pay his rent this month. Or a multitude of other things. And for doing nothing. Well, nothing except withstand another two hours of bladder torture. He was going to have to figure something else out.
"Fine." He grunted to Jackie before stalking off. Where else could he pee? He could bust through the out of order signs, but he didn't want to cause a scene. Maybe there was a mop bucket some place...
He looked around for about 20 more minutes for a broom closet, to no avail. And he was growing more and more desperate by the second.
Finally he found a nondescript door, and wrenched it open. And it was a broom closet! But without a mop bucket in sight.
Unwittingly, he let out an audible groan, his cock twitching uncomfortably in his pants, aching for relief.
"Aww, poor Art. Looks like he's gonna have an accident." Jackie snickered behind him. Jackie fucking Barden.
In a whirl of rage, bladder desperation, and alcohol induced judgement impairment, Art yanked Jackie inside the broom closet and shut the door. Jackie stumbled to her knees as she fell. Art yanked his twitching cock free of his pants and wedged its tip into Jackie's shocked, gaping mouth and down her throat. Just as he felt the tip slip into her throat, he couldn't hold it any longer. A strong stream of piss shot down Jackie's throat, into her stomach, and on its way to her already filled bladder.
"Ahheeugh," Art moaned as relief flooded his system, his bladder quickly and steadily emptying into Jackie's stomach.
Jackie was so shocked by this rapid fire turn of events that she didn't come to her senses until Art was done peeing, his bladder completely empty. Gagged by his cock, she tried to speak, outraged. Only she was about to be faced with another problem.
