☆Omovember☆ Day 1: Peeing in container (oc)
The office had been a sanctum of intellect. The only sounds were the soft scratch of Felix’s pen making notes in the margin of a first-year literature essay and the gentle hum of the university’s ancient heating system.
It was the third coffee that had done him in. A foolish mistake, one he should have known to avoid. Centuries of life, and he still hadn’t learned to moderate his intake of fluids.
The dull, familiar ache had started as a polite reminder, a gentle throbbing in his lower abdomen. He shifted in his seat, ankles crossed as he leaned forward, focusing on the task at hand.
The ache, however, wasn't polite for long. The gentle throb turned to a persistent and demanding pulse. A heavy weight, like an overfilled water balloon, settled firmly. He uncrossed his legs, only to recross them seconds later.
A soft groan escaped him. His free hand slipped to rest between his thighs, pressing his palm against his crotch. The resulting jolt of need had him sharply inhale.
Felix rose from his chair, hoping to alleviate the pressure with a change of posture, but the movement was a catastrophic error. A sharp, urgent pain made him gasp and sit back down instantly, his knees buckling.
A few warm, warning drops escaped, seeping into the cotton of his briefs. No. No, no, no. Panic, cold and sharp, joined the white hot desperation. He couldn’t. Not here. Not in his clothes, at his desk.
He was now, painfully, acutely aware of just how long it would take to walk down the two corridors and lengthy hallway to reach the facilities.
His eyes darted around the small room wildly. The trash can? No, the mesh wouldn’t allow for such a flow. The window? Absolutely not.
Then he spotted it. Sitting on the adjacent filing cabinet, a gift from Ollie to "brighten up the room," was a simple white vase that held a bundle of cheerful, yellow daffodils.
He reached the vase, his hands trembling. Felix fumbled with the flowers, pulling them out by the stems. Water dripped, going down his wrist as he dropped them haphazardly on the nearest surface.
He didn’t care. He truly didn't care right now.
His fingers, clumsy in their urgency, went to his trousers. The buttons were a torture device, each button a tiny enemy.
He whimpered, a soft, pathetic sound in the silent room, as he finally, finally worked them open and freed himself. He was already leaking, a steady, uncontrollable trickle beading at the tip of his cock. He aimed, pressing his tip in the lip of the vase.
The initial torrential, steaming stream hit the ceramic with a sound that felt impossibly loud in the quiet office. A second later, the stream settled to a powerful stream that hissed and echoed against the rapidly filled vase.
His heart hammered against his chest. His lips parted with a soft, relieved moan while his bladder deflated.
The sharp scent of his own urine mixed with the faint floral perfume of the daffodils still lying nearby.
Eventually the stream tapered out to a weak trickle and finally little dribbles that topped it off. His shoulders slumped with a relieved sigh as his fingers splayed over the weighted vase. Felix chewed on his lower lip as he delicately set the vase back down on the cabinet.
He blinked slowly while he pulled himself back into his trousers. Making a mental note to dump the evidence before he left for the night.
