The Secretary Who had to Pee Ch. 05

"Once again, you presume correctly, Miss Bond. I fully intend that he should be the one with egg on his face. You see, I have a cunning plan."

"Oh, really. Do tell."

"Only after you buy some coffee and start drinking. No, actually, I want you to buy two coffees and drink them both."

Kate's amusement retreated for a moment. Attempting to change the subject, she said, "I made us a booking at the Promenade Hotel for tonight. It's supposed to be right on the coast."

"Excellent. Thank you. But I think you just ignored a direct order from your boss, did you not?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"Do I detect insubordination?"

My voice was light, but she looked concerned. "I don't think we should play those games today," she informed me in a low, almost reluctant voice. "I'm new to the Authority and I don't want to risk humiliating myself at Head Office."

I considered this, then acquiesced. "Point taken. I'm not being fair."

She reached over and briefly touched my thigh, a little gesture that I knew she intended to take the sting out of her very mild rebuke. I rubbed the back of her hand and treated her to my most winning smile to show that there were no hard feelings.

I started to chat about my strategy for the meeting with Thompson, but when I looked across at her, I noticed that Kate was staring at the fuel gauge. "The tank's almost empty," she said. "Hadn't we better get some fuel?"

"At the very next petrol station we come to," I agreed.

Her smirk returned. "Oh, is that where I was supposed to buy the coffee, while you filled the tank?"

"Something like that,' I admitted.

"Another cunning plan?"

I waggled my eyebrows at her, and this time she gave way and actually laughed. She shook her head good-naturedly. "Oh, alright. I'll buy some coffee."

"I grand suggestion, Miss Bond."

"You are so bad," she said.

I pulled into a petrol station and collected two coffees from a One Stop shop, handing Kate one and placing the other in the cup holder. I still entertained vague hopes of getting her to drink them both, but I wasn't prepared to push her if she really didn't want to do it.

She sipped at the hot liquid as we continued our journey east along the A27 towards Bexhill. For a while, our conversation turned to more philosophical considerations, such as the state of the world in general, how small changes seldom seem to make a different in the grand scheme of things, and even whether or not there was a grand scheme to the universe.

I kept up a steady speed of fifty-five miles per hour, fully expecting to make Bexhill before nine. But, in the grand scheme of things, I had failed to take into account the havoc wrought by the night's storm. Before reaching Worthing, we hit a detour. A few minutes later, we encountered another. Parts of the A27 were blocked by a combination of fallen trees and flooding. It soon became apparent that we would be late for the meeting after all.

I considered calling Thompson's secretary to re-schedule, and even got as far as picking up my mobile phone to place the call. My finger on the button that would retrieve the number from memory, I hesitated. Damn it; I would not give that arsehole the satisfaction of knowing that I was in a sweat. I put the phone back down and drove on. One way or another, I determined, we were going to get there in time.

I was so preoccupied with these concerns that I quite forgot to note how coffee Kate had been drinking, until, just as I reached a busy junction with yet another detour sign, she said, "Oh damn. I need a loo."

I looked over at Kate and saw that she had her knees pressed together. Catching my eye, she pulled an anguished face and smiled wanly. "It looks like you got your wish after all."

I wanted to tell her I was sorry, but of course I wasn't. Instead, my thoughts focused entirely on her, so much so that drivers behind me were blowing on their horns to encourage me to pull out across the junction. I did so, doing my best to concentrate, but now I was hopelessly distracted by Kate's predicament.

Had I always been this bad, I wondered? I'd always found seeing an attractive woman hopping around with a full bladder arousing, but until Kate had come into my life, I was sure it had never taken such command of me. Perhaps I was merely deluding myself and I'd always been this perverted? I found it more than a little disturbing that it stimulated me so much, and I worried that this demon might ultimately control my every waking action.

"I know you won't want to look for a garage or somewhere with a loo," Kate intruded on my reverie, "but I would appreciate being able to go."

"Yes, of course," I said hurriedly. "As soon as we spot somewhere, we'll stop."

"Thanks," she said, briefly resting a hand on my shoulder. "It has come on very suddenly and I'm actually quite desperate, so I'm really glad to hear that."

Oh, I wish she hadn't told me that. My erection, which until then had been only partial, was suddenly full, and the foreskin was managing to tug on several pubic hairs, causing me huge discomfort. The pain must have shown on my face, because Kate asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I told her distractedly.

After a short pause, she added, "Oh, that kind of nothing. Sorry."

"It's okay."

"Want me to help?"

"It was you who got me into this situation."

"All the more reason for me to help."

I tried to keep my attention on the road ahead as Kate, ignoring the cars moving all around us, reached across, unzipped my trousers and slipped her hand inside my pants. "I feel the problem," she said matter-of-factly, drawing back the foreskin a little more and freeing the trap hairs. Oh, the relief.

As soon as my discomfort abated, I immediately grew aware of her touch. As she started to withdraw her hand when I said, "No. Stay there. Please."

"I don't think that's a good idea while you're driving."

"I know, but I am so close to shooting my load. Please squeeze me."

She hesitated, and I saw her free hand move to her knee and begin rubbing. I could hear the whisper of her fingers brushing against her tights, and my arousal intensified still more. She reacted to my additional stiffening by squeezing, then she started to move her close hand up and down. The range of motion was no more than half an inch, but it was enough.

My tesicles were suddenly on fire, and through the wave of pleasure her attentions had induced, I thought about her sitting there with a full bladder, struggling to wait as she satisfied my desires in this shockingly-public place.

Fifteen seconds later, I ejaculated. For a few moments, my vision clouded, and I felt Kate's hand grab mine on the steering wheel, turning us away from the middle of the road. My breaths were coming in short gasps while my heart pounded in my chest, and slowly, very slowly, my body recovered from the most powerful urge I had experienced in years.

"Good heavens," Kate muttered, drawing my attention to her face. I saw her looking down at my lap, and following her gaze I saw what looked like half a gallon of semen on the front of the seat, and that didn't include what had shot over the edge into the foot well.

"Don't move any more than you have to," Kate said. "I don't think any of it went on your trousers. If I can just mop it up, you may get away with it."

She let go of the steering wheel, returning full control of the car to me as she began rummaging in her bag. She produced a small pack of tissues, pulled out a handful and began mopping up the mess on the upholstery between my legs.

"Perhaps now you can concentrate on not getting us killed," she said as she worked. Her tone was certainly firm, but she clearly did not intend it as a rebuke.

"Thank you," I spoke at last, my voice hoarse. I cleared my throat and continued. "That was amazing."

"Yes," she agreed simply. "You clearly really needed it."

I hesitated before asking, "What about you Kate. Do you need it too?"

She didn't look up until she was satisfied she had sponged up as much semen as possible. When she did lift her face, I saw that he cheeks were flushed, either from leaning forward for so long, or because my question had actually embarrassed her.

I didn't think she was going to say anything at all, but at last she spoke again. "What I need right now is a loo."

"Right, yes. Keep an eye open for a fuel station or something."

"Don't worry. I am."

We followed a highly circuitous route for the next ten miles, wasting nearly half an hour on a length of journey which should only have taken ten minutes. Remarkably, I don't think we passed a single filling station during this leg of the journey. We did come across a small village shop, and I pulled up to let Kate go in to look for a loo, even though we were both fairly sure there would be no such facility. When she came out after just thirty seconds, shaking her head, it was perfectly clear we had been right.

"Oh, this is getting serious," Kate said as she re-secured her seat belt. "I have to find somewhere soon."

I glanced at the clock on the dashboard - eight fifteen. If we were to stand any chance at all of making that nine o'clock meeting, we couldn't afford any more delays. I hadn't intended to say anything to Kate, but as usual she unerringly read my concern. "We don't really have time to stop again, do we?" she asked, although it came across more as a resigned statement than a question.

"Well, not really," I agreed. "But, if we're late, we're late. The very storm that led to us making this journey has delayed us, and I'm sure Thompson will appreciate that."

"He'll use it against you, more like," she corrected. "No, please just keep going. I'll cross my legs until we get there and then make a mad dash for the loo." She considered for a moment, then added, "Oh."

"What is it?" "I don't know where anything is at Head Office. Will you have time to show me where the loos are?"

"Of course. Don't worry."

"Good, because when I get out of this car again, I'll be ready to explode."

I tried not to dwell on that last comment because, despite alleviating my own urges such a short time before, I could already feel myself reacting to her predicament again. Visions of her bladder swollen enough to be in danger of exploding made me long to reach over and rub her abdomen, but I tried to ignore this impulse and concentrate on driving instead.

We finally managed to rejoin the A27 with less than half an hour remaining before the meeting. The traffic was very heavy and progress was seldom better than forty miles per hour. At best, we would reach Head Office about ten minutes late. It wouldn't necessarily be disastrous, but it would certainly give Thompson the initial advantage. I felt my mantle of confidence starting to slip, and wondered if Thompson would get his way after all, leaving me out of a job by the end of the day.

Beside me, Kate was now silent. I glanced across at her periodically, noting that she was sitting with her knees pressed together, and that her legs were trembling. She had to be so close to coming unglued, and I felt for her. I knew her bladder was bursting and that she was incredibly uncomfortable at a time when she badly wanted to look composed. Normally, I would have enjoyed her predicament, but this morning I just wanted to get her to our destination and see her make it to the loo without having an accident. I felt protective of her, and wanted things to go well for her on her first visit to Head Office.

We managed to make up a little time, so that by just two minutes after nine, I was pulling into the underground car park directly beneath the Authority's building. I was handed a pass after showing some identification to the guard on the gate, then parked as close to the lifts as I possibly could. I grabbed my briefcase from the back seat and hopped out in time to see Kate emerge and stand half doubled over. "Oh my God," she gasped. "I don't know how much longer I can last."

"You'll make it," I encouraged her. "This way. Just one more minute and you can let it go."

She closed her eyes as she hurried after me, her shoes tapping out small, rapid steps. I pressed the button to call one of the lifts, watching the display as it began counting down from the seventh floor, passing through the sixth and the fifth, heading for the basement level where we were waiting. Kate was pacing up and down, arms folded across her breasts. I could hear her sucking in air between her teeth with every breath. She had to be right on the verge of losing control, and waiting for the lift to descend had to be sheer torture for her.

As soon as the lift doors slid apart to admit us, Kate literally hobbled inside, her steps cautious in a clear attempt to avoid jolting her bladder and causing a loss of muscle control. I tried not to think about her advanced state of desperation; I could not afford to become distracted with such a critical meeting just minutes away.

After what must have seemed an eternity to Kate, the lift stopped at the ground floor and the doors opened once more. As we stepped out, I saw a woman standing in front of the main reception desk turn to look at us, then beginning hurrying across the room the intercept us.

"Mr. Denes," she addressed me a little breathlessly. "Thank heavens you're here. I'm Marcia Smith. The meeting is just starting, and you really need to get in there right away."

"I know. I'm sorry we're late, but the roads were a mess. Please tell Mr. Thompson that we just need a minute. My assistant has to-"

"You don't understand," she interrupted. "Mr. Foster is chairing the meeting."

My blood literally curdled. "Foster?" I echoed.

"That's right."

"The Director of the entire Authority."

"Exactly," Marcia confirmed. "And he's not happy. He's had his local M.P. on the phone this morning, raising hell about water contamination."

"Oh shit," I muttered. I closed my eyes for a moment to compose my thoughts, then turned to Kate who was literally hopping on the spot. "I'll go straight in, and you join us in a minute after you've--"

"You assistant had better go in with you," Marcia cut in again. "A lot of the support staff has not made it in yet this morning, and they don't have anyone to take minutes."

Kate looked positively terrified. She shook her head. "I can't, not without using the loo."

"I know," I said. "They'll just have to wait for you."

"I really wouldn't advise any delays, Mr. Denes. You could cut the atmosphere in there with a knife, and I know this meeting is vital to you." Marcia regarded Kate's restless legs for a moment, then said to her, "If you could just fill in until Mr. Thompson's regular secretary turns up, then we can relieve you."

"I can't," Kate protested in a tight little voice. "I'm nearly bursting."

"I wouldn't make a bad first impression if I were you," Marcia advised, "especially not today of all days. Go on," she urged. "We'll have you out of there in no time."

Kate turned worried eyes on me, and I shrugged. "Can you last a little longer?"

She looked like she was ready to cry, but she blinked several times as if dispelled tears and nodded. "I'll try," she said. As we started towards the meeting room, Kate said to Marcia, "Please get someone in there as soon as possible. I don't want to have an accident in front of these people."

"As soon as someone shows up who can take shorthand, I'll bring her straight in," Marcia promised.

"Thank you," Kate replied meekly.

A few moments later, Marcia was opening the door to the meeting room and ushering us in.

A dozen authority executives sat around the oval table, most of them men and most of them white. The presence of two women and one black man was the authority's hat tilting to the demands of equality. Given the average age of the pale skins, which had to be around sixty, it was clear that the Authority was still very much under the influence of the old school tie.

All faces turned to watch our entry. Several were familiar to me, and we exchanged quick nods. Most of them had never blipped on my radar before, and I had a feeling they were not likely to be sympathetic to an area manager fresh in from the sticks, especially not one whose office was located on a sewage treatment works.

"Good morning, Denes," Thompson greeted me stiffly. "You're late."

"There were a lot of road closures owing to the storm last night," I pointed out without returning his greeting.

"I should have thought you might have anticipated that and left early," Thompson retorted, "rather than keep us all waiting."

The man at the head of the table, if an oval table might be said to have such a geometry, held up a hand to silence Thompson. Taking his cue, Thompson resumed, "I don't believe you've met Mr. Foster before."

"No, indeed. Good morning sir," I greeted him formally.

Foster merely nodded and glanced at the clock across the room which announced the time as ten past nine. This, I could see, was going to be an uphill battle.

I took a seat directly opposite Thompson, Foster located between us. At the periphery of my vision, I was aware of Kate heading for a seat on the far side of the conference room. When she sat down, she was in my line of sight, midway between Thompson and Foster. She immediately crossed her legs and produced a notepad and pen from her bag, completely ignored the stenographer's machine located two seats away from her in the corner. I guessed that she has never used one before and was not about to try learning it now. Wise woman.

I saw Foster flick a meaningful glance towards Kate followed by the stenographer's machine before clearing his throat and formally opening the meeting.

"We all know why we are here. Our switchboard is jammed with complaint calls from the community, and I've personally had difficult dialogues with two members of parliament this morning, asking me how such shocking accidents could be allowed to occur in their constituency."

"Accidents?" I asked, realizing as I said it that I should really not have interrupted Foster's opening address. He glared at me for several seconds, then resumed without answering my question.

He droned on, listing a string of obvious complaints from the public who never wanted to pay their taxes, but were always surprised when some part of the infrastructure that held society together crumbled, in this case quite literally, through lack of financial support.

Unable to keep my mind on rather obvious monologue, I allowed my thoughts to stray to Kate's terrible predicament. The poor girl had to be busting a gut as she sat there scribbling down this drivel, part of her mind surely alert for the sound of the door opening and the arrival of Thompson's secretary. I wondered how she was coping from minute to minute with a bladder that had to be at its limit by now. I actually worried that she would not be able to maintain control and would wet herself in front of Foster and Thompson. I doubted that she would ever learn to deal with the humiliation if that happened, and in all likelihood she would resign her position with the Authority rather than have to live in its shadow every time Thompson visited me at the regional office.

I glanced at the door, and then through the adjacent window into the outer office, willing someone to come in and release Kate from her torment before it was too late, but there was no sign of anyone out there.

"Mr. Denes," Foster summoned my attention. "Perhaps you could outline the circumstances leading up to the accident with the holding tank at your sewage plant."

I forbore to point out that the plant was hardly mine, and produced the notes I had prepared for the occasion. My gaze alighted very briefly on Kate before I started, and I noted that she was bent forward over her notepad, legs tightly crossed, her raised foot wiggling rapidly back and forth. The brief silence seemed to alert her that something was going on, and she glanced up at me. Her lips twitching into a smile, but I could see the agony in her eyes. I mouthed the words, Are you ready? She nodded once, and I began delivering my summary.