I really like it when a girl wants to go to the toilet, my girlfriend knows this very well and sometimes gives me pleasure in this way. Once we made a wish bet, and she lost. I think you guessed that my desire was for her to endure as long as possible, and we agreed to meet at my house the next day. When she came to my house, I gave her to drink two glasses of water, after which we went to the nearest cafe. There I bought her three cans of beer and asked Sherry to drink them within two hours. On the steps of the porch, Sherry began to shift from one foot to the other, as she increasingly wanted to go to the toilet. When we entered the house, I asked Sherry to sit on the sofa. Now, of course, she badly wanted to go to the toilet, but we agreed that she could pee only when I let her do this. I went to the kitchen to make us a cup of tea and, when I returned, noticed that Sherry was squeezing one hand between her legs under her short skirt, I told her that it was too early to squeeze myself with my hand and for now she should just sit quietly.

Sherry started slightly when she suddenly heard me, but pulled out her hand and put her leg on the leg. In the meantime, I turned on the TV and we started watching a football game. The first half ended, and I asked Sherry to bring some more tea from the kitchen. Thinking, I decided that two more glasses of liquid should be enough so that Sherry soon simply could not tolerate. She had already drunk almost three liters of liquid, and never once asked me for permission to go to the toilet. When Sherry brought the tea and sat down next to me, I pressed my hand on her stomach and enjoyed the grimace of pain and despair on her face. Football was already about an hour, and she asked when I would let her pee. “At least after the match,” I replied. She moaned and exhaled: “But I’m already so full, please allow me to just pee in a little bit to ease the pressure in my bladder”, “I didn’t allow her again and added,” “to distract yourself, iron the laundry ". She got up and brought washed laundry to the ironing board.

The move weakened her desire to go to the toilet, but I knew that she would soon have to stop to stroke, and besides, her hands would be busy. This was what I watched as Sherry began ironing her first costume, and soon she stood still, occasionally squeezing her legs and leaning forward. “I can't stand it any longer!” She suddenly said, placing the iron, squeezing both hands between her legs and dancing in pain and impatience. Until the end of the match there were still more than twenty minutes. I agreed to examine her stomach to see how full her bladder was, to which Sherry easily agreed, feeling that her bladder was ready to burst, and fully confident that when I saw this, I would allow her to pee. I asked her to take off her skirt, and Sherry did it very quickly. Her short blouse was a few centimeters above the navel, and I saw that Sherry's bladder was swelling almost to the edge of the blouse! I put my right hand on her stomach, feeling the hard surface of her very full bladder.

With my index finger, I found the top of the swelling, because Sherry was writhing in front of me. Slowly, I went down a few fingers to the pubis. Then slowly forward to her crotch. Everywhere I felt only an incredibly tense and hard stomach, and I knew that her bladder was almost on the verge of an explosion. “Come to me and sit down again,” I commanded. Sherry put her legs on the sofa sideways, pulling them to her, all the while squeezing her right hand between her legs. I wanted it to last a lot longer, but obviously she was too close to wetting, and I knew that Sherry simply could not wait much longer. All she could think about was a toilet.Only fifteen minutes remained before the end of the match, I said this to Sherry, she nodded, but tears appeared in the corners of her eyes as she tried to restrain herself longer, which was almost impossible. She crossed her legs again, trying to survive until the end of a football match. Five minutes later, Sherry sat on the edge of the couch and began to swing back and forth nervously.

Her face was in agony, and the fingers of her right hand pressed against the urethra through shorts with all their might. “Oooh, I want to piss !!!” she moaned, “please, please, let me pee!” “Just a few more minutes,” I replied, and she shivered. Sherry looked at her watch, she had already endured almost three hours, and she had 3.5 liters of liquid in her stomach, and she had only four minutes left, but what four minutes! All this time, she held it while standing still, then pacing the room and squeezing her hands between her legs. Her bladder by this time was so full that she barely kept her sphincters closed. When the referee's whistle sounded and the match ended, Sherry could barely endure. "Now!", - she said, - "I must pee right now !!!". Sherry immediately ran to the stairs. I walked in the back and, since she wanted to go to the bathroom, I took her to the bedroom. There I sat on the bed, watching her desperate attempts to stand up to the toilet. “Take off your blouse,” I asked, and Sherry did it quickly.

“Now the panties,” I added, Sherri did it again very quickly and threw the panties into the corner of the room, and I perfectly saw her long slender legs. Sherry was naked and completely helpless. She simply stood, crossing her legs and squeezing her hand between her legs, begging me to let her go to the toilet. I could see her inflated abdomen, distended bladder, strongly protruding above the pubic bone, the upper edge of which was already visible 4-5 centimeters above the navel. I asked Sherry to wear blue sweatpants. “Oh, please!” She moaned, “don't make me suffer longer, it's unbearable!” “Do what I say,” I commanded. She somehow put on these pants, but moved very stiffly. Sherry drank already 3. 5 liters of liquid, and I knew that she should be in agony, but did not intend to end her suffering so quickly. "Now put on a white T-shirt." She put it on without complaint. “Okay, now go back down the stairs.” She walked in front of me, squeezing herself even tighter through clothes.

I ordered her shoes and said: “Well, we will go out for a while. If you can hold back, I will allow you to pee when we return. ” Sherry nodded, squeezing her hips together again, desperately trying to squeeze her tired muscles of the urethra. I opened the door and we went outside, it was about three in the afternoon. I decided that a ten-minute walk would be enough. Sherri leaned forward more and squeezed her hand between her legs when no one saw it. As we left home, she moaned and sobbed in agony. We came to the store, having walked a few hundred meters, and I decided to buy something. Sherry wanted to stay outside, so she could squeeze herself a little more through her pockets, but I told her to come with me, so she had to stand straight and pretend that everything was in order, hiding her terrible despair. There were two people in front of us, and I literally felt Sherry's legs trembling, which nervously shifted from one foot to the other.

She crossed her legs, but Sherry couldn’t hold her hands between her legs in front of people, so she simply clenched them into fists, trying to keep every drop in her tortured bladder. Our turn came, and while I was choosing the chocolates, she suddenly screamed, and I saw drops on the inside of her thighs. Soon the wet strip reached the knee and the urine gently dripped onto the floor. She simply could not restrain herself longer, but buyers behind did not notice anything. I paid for groceries when another person entered the store. He was standing right behind Sherry and he probably saw a wet spot on her pants. I paid for the purchase and we went to the house. Sherry knew that she was a naughty girl, and I would not let her go to the toilet right away.I warned Sherry that she must endure the rest of her urine, and if she doesn’t tolerate even a drop, I will make her endure another hour. Sherry nodded, but she knew that her bladder was so full that she could not stretch, and in a couple of minutes her pants would inevitably get wet again.

Sherry was holding back as hard as we could until we reached the porch. I slowly opened the door, and Sherri literally ran into the house, bouncing and dancing in the hallway, squeezing myself between my legs. She was already at the limit of her physical abilities - Sherry's bladder could no longer hold a single drop of urine anymore, and her sphincter could no longer shrink. I asked Sherry to go to the bedroom again, and he went after her. There, I again forced her to undress completely, taking off her pants and a T-shirt, after which Sherry again stood naked in front of me. I sat on the bed and asked Sherry to come closer so that I could feel her overflowing bladder again before allowing her to go to the toilet. A grimace of pain appeared on her face when I lightly pressed her belly. She screamed, and tears appeared in her eyes when I pressed my cheek against her stomach and began to stroke her body with my hand from the butt to the horribly vibrating hips. In the end, I felt sorry for my poor girl, and took her to the bathroom.

I asked her to pee in a container that we often used to measure the volume - how much our bladders could stand. Obviously, Sherry was sure that today she would improve her previous record - 1350 ml, and I did not doubt it. I put the container in the middle of the bathroom, and Sherry immediately crouched over him, released a real fountain and groaned: “Oh, I needed that!” She took a deep breath, leaned forward and released another fountain. Sherry filled the container about half, very close to her previous record. Concentrating, she squeezed every drop out of her bladder, crouching naked above the container for about five minutes. Then she sighed wearily, got up and I measured the volume - 1430 ml! m, and I think it has stood today: 1. 45 liters.

Sherry could not stand quite a bit to one and a half liters, and I promised her that in the settling time (and we often bet on desire) I will make her tolerate as long as possible and will not allow her to go to the toilet so early to stretch her bladder volume of one and a half liters!