Garage Monkey - Part 2
by Mudcub
stories@mudcub.com
So, there I was, standing outside the garage where I worked. I was proudly wearing my new blue coveralls with the company name embroidered on the back. Unfortunately, as prank, my boss had pulled the zipper up all the way to my neck, and had superglued it shut.
And I really REALLY had to piss.
I had already locked up, and plus I didn't like using the dirty indoor toilet. Instead, there was the port-o-potty that the customers used that was off to the side of the pumps. I ran over to it, not really thinking too clearly.
By the time I yanked open the door to the port-o-potty and stepped in, I remembered. I had no idea how I was going to pull my dick out! Once I was standing in front of a urinal, my dick wanted to piss badly. It was like a Pavlovian reaction. My hands grasped frantically at my coveralls, but they were made out of a thick canvas material. Even if I pinched and grabbed, I couldn't feel anything through the fabric.
And even if I could pinch my dick, it was still trapped in the tight white pair of briefs I was wearing earlier. Why did I decide to wear briefs today? I usually wear looser boxer briefs. I danced in the small hot port-o-potty, moving from one foot to the other, trying to hold back the piss.
Man it reeked inside the tiny stifling port-o-potty. I knew Lloyd had them cleaned once a week, but this must be at the last part of the week before the cleaning guy came. The need to piss combined with the stench of the shit and piss in the commode made my head spin. I pulled on the zipper but it was going nowhere. I yanked and yanked.
And then it happened. I pissed myself.
It started out as a trickle. I thought that if I let only a little out it would relieve the pressure. But then it wouldn't stop. my dick had a mind of its own. I couldn't shut it off. At first, only my briefs were soaked. I thought maybe they would hold all the liquid, but then the fabric could hold no more, and my own piss starting trickling down my leg.
Now, you have to realize how embarrassing this was. I had been a teenager for several months by then, and I hadn't pissed myself in years. What was my mother going to say? Pissing myself felt good, and scary at the same time. I tried to hold back, but the pleasure of relief on my bladder was unstoppable.
I looked down. Luckily my coveralls were dark blue. They didn't show much. I could feel the hot wetness on my leg, and the soaked briefs cradling my steamy cock and balls. I saw the puddle on the floor of the port-o-potty. That was ok - the place was filthy anyway. I got out of the reeking hot box as soon as I could, and stepped out in the parking lot again.
In the sunlight, I saw that the piss stain was a LOT more visible. Plus, the urine was rapidly cooling in the breeze. Suddenly I realized I had to walk home like this. The only way to my house was alongside the highway. There was no other shortcut. Any car driving by could see me! And see the dark river stain trickling down my left leg and into my shoe.
What the fuck. I knew it would dry in the air soon enough. I wished Miguel would have given me a ride. After my long day, I was dead tired.
About two blocks from home, I had the need to piss again. Instinctively, I ran off the road into some bushes. My hand fumbled for the fly in my jeans before I realized. I couldn't escape. Damn. I never learn.
This time it was harder to piss. The first time was an accident, and the piss just came out. This time, I had to WILL myself to piss, and all of a sudden I was shy. Even though my bladder ached, I couldn't do it. There was that primal fear, "You're wearing clothes, you shouldn't piss," that I had to close my eyes and concentrate.
By then, my underwear was cold, but drying. It felt odd to warm it up again. the hot piss flooding in my short, soaking them. I bet they stunk bad under my coveralls, but I couldn't smell them. Yet. It took about five minutes with my eyes closed, but soon I was able to climb back on the highway and continue walking.
When I got home, I ran upstairs. I shouted to my mom, "I'm not hungry!" and bounded up the stairs. She didn't see my new coveralls. Maybe a flash of blue, but nothing else. My older brother if fifteen. she's used to living with moody teenagers. She probably thought I had a bad day.
By the time I got into my room, I was panting. Man, I was soaked. I felt my coveralls with my hands. The front was wet, and slightly sticky. I smelled my hands. yeah, they were covered in piss. Not rancid piss like the port-o-potty, but still unmistakably urine.
I sat down in front of my computer, and felt wetness in my seat. Damn! I jumped up. I needed a towel. I crept out of my bedroom to the bathroom. looking both ways down the hallway to make sure nobody saw me. I set the towel on my computer chair and turned the power on.
Normally, I would spend a few minutes surfing the web for porn. But I didn't think I could take it that night. I mean, my dick would get hard in the sopping wet piss briefs. And then I wouldn't be able to touch it or jack off. So that would be a bad idea.
Instead, I turned on World of Warcraft, and brought up my druid dwarf character. The game got my mind off my bladder, and the strategy seemed to work. I played the game until 2 am, and then suddenly felt sleepy. But I realized I needed to piss one last time before bed.
I tiptoed into the bathroom, careful not to wake my brother or parents. I thought about trying to piss in the toilet. Then realized it would just run down my leg and make a mess. So, I got into the bathtub. Face down.
Like pissing by the side of the road, this was tricky. I still had a mental block to not piss. But I was getting better at closing my eyes and concentrating. I felt that now-familiar wetness spread through my briefs, only to overflow and trickle down my legs. It was slower this time, and soaked the front of my legs where I was lying in the tub. I got up, got out of the tub, and ran a bunch of water from the shower so the tub wouldn't smell.
I hauled back a bunch of towels from the bathroom into my bedroom. I had a feeling I would need them. Then, exhausted, I laid down in my bed and fell asleep.
It was weird sleeping in clothes. I had never done it before. usually I strip down to just my underwear. So I felt funny every time I rolled over. And I had weird dreams. nightmares where I had to piss but I couldn't find a toilet. And one erotic dream with these naked boys covered in grease and oil, rubbing their bodies over mine.
I woke up from that last dream at 6 am, my dick fully erect under my coveralls. I tried to hump my bed face down, rubbing my crotch violently against the now-damp sheets. But the heavy fabric of the coveralls would allow me any friction. My dick and balls were cradled by the wet briefs. I had a raging hardon but nothing I could do about it. I gave up trying to cum and fell asleep for a little bit longer.
I woke up at 10 am with a real strong need to piss. Oh fuck it. I didn't want to try the bathtub again. Plus, my brother might be trying to take a shower right about now. Instead, I took a wadded up towel and put it under my crotch. I pissed, and tried to make the towel soak up the wetness. It kind of worked, but I still had a real wet crotch, and the bed had a one-foot yellow wet spot. Evidently, I was going to need a better solution.
I got up, and hung the towel over the doorway to dry. I realized I was starving, so I decided to go downstairs to the kitchen and grab some food. I snuck down the stairs, but my mom was already in the kitchen. I looked at my coveralls. they were wet but not too noticeable. However, I had a feeling I was starting to stink.
My mom saw me coming down the stairs, "Hi honey, how are you?" She looked up and down at my new blue coveralls. "Do you have to work today?"
I turned away from her, opening up the refrigerator door so she couldn't look too closely. "Um, no." I said. It's true. The garage is open on weekends for getting gas, but Lloyd and the rest of the guys wouldn't show up until Monday.
I piled my arms full of leftover fried chicken and a few cokes. "I'm just waiting for some friends to go to a concert tonight," I explained.
"Ok," said Mom, "but don't be too late. We have church in the morning."
I started to run back to my room, but then had an idea. I bent over, and got out a large metal mixing bowl from the lower cupboard. I piled the chicken and cokes in it and bounded up the stairs.
Safe in my room again, I had to piss again. I thought this would be a good time to test out my theory. I placed the metal bowl on a towel on the ground, and then got on all fours, pressing my groin into the bowl.
It was hard to piss in this position, but I was starting to get the hang of it. Piss flooded through my coveralls and into the bowl. Sure, my underwear was soaked, but nothing trickled down my legs. After a few minutes, I had two cups of piss at the bottom of the bowl. It was tired, but it seemed like it could work.
I got on the computer and played World of Warcraft all morning and afternoon, stopping only to do my doggy-style pissing trick. Every few minutes, I would catch a strong whiff of piss and think, "What is that STENCH?" only to realize a minute later, "oh, it's me."
Eventually, I just put five towels on the chair and started to piss sitting down. It made it convenient to play the videogame non-stop for a few hours. Eventually, it was about 4 pm, and I decided I needed to get ready for the concert I was going to. But how was I going to go out looking like this and smelling of piss?
I thought of taking a shower - but with my clothes on. I ran to the bathroom and turned the water as hot as it would go. Which wasn't very hot in our old house. But I thought it would do the trick. I jumped in, and felt the hot water rinsing off the cold piss that was all over my crotch and legs
I didn't exactly feel clean, but I thought it would do. So, I toweled off the best I could, and walked out of the house, dripping little puddles behind me from my sodden coverall.
The concert was within walking distance, so I didn't have to ride my bike. Op Ivy and Tiger Army, with some other minor opening acts. But first, I was supposed to meet up with Miguel at his house.
If my family lived on the wrong side of the tracks, Miguel was worse. I bet his shit job at the garage made more than the rest of the family put together. But his family was real tight, and did everything together. Mexican holidays were a riot at his house, I was told. But the idea of meeting his family dressed in my uniform frightened me.
Miguel was out in front washing his car. "Hi Gene!" he said with a grin. "How are you liking your new clothes?"
I was still a little tired and freaked out but said, "They're fine."
Miguel smiled at me, "You get used to them in time." He turned the hose in my direction as a joke. "You need me to hose you down?"
"No, no," I laughed, jumping backwards, "I'm fine! I'm fine!"
The concert was amazing. Miguel had a cousin who was working as a bartender upstairs. Even though Miguel and I were underage, he still sold us beer. I spent almost all of my first paycheck form the garage on drinks.
As you can imagine, I got drunk. Really really drunk. And most of my beer got spilled all over my coveralls. But at least I smelled more like a brewery now than a urinal. Plus, Miguel and I spent a lot of time in the mosh pit. I wasn't thinking, but dancing around made me sweat a lot. I was still wearing that white t-shirt under my coveralls, but now it was soaked with moisture. Which means it would soon stink.
But the worst thing at the concert for my smell was at the end. Miguel must have drunk even more than me, and he was starting to feel sick. I was still ok to drive, but I had to carry Miguel back to the car. On the way, he puked all over my shoulder, down my back, and a little bit actually inside my coveralls.
Half-eaten Mexican food came spewing out of Miguel's mouth, and almost made me hurl as well. "Oh fuck," I yelled, "you PIG!". But Miguel didn't care. He was beyond caring.
I'm not sure how I got home. I must have walked after I dropped off Miguel. Later he told me he slept in his truck all night. I barely made it to bed and passed out.
And that was my problem. I wasn't thinking about any repercussions from the night of heavy drinking. I would learn my lesson in the morning when I had to take a shit.