I really should have peed before this conference call.

I was regretting it, now, only 5 minutes in and already I was squirming in my seat. Only my head and shoulders were in frame, so hopefully no one could notice my legs doing the potty dance just off-camera.

This could be my big shot, a chance to prove myself reliable, a team player, and a real go-getter! I eagerly volunteered to sit in on behalf of the business, but now I really wish I hadn’t. I wish that the conversation was interesting enough to distract me from my bladder, but so far it has just been check-ins from other branches, nothing to do with me, so I’m just waiting my turn, rubbing my thighs together, trying not to embarrass myself in front of the entire leadership of the business.

Luckily, work let me call in from home, as there were no conference rooms available. I had carefully tidied up a corner of my apartment, but just out of shot there were piles of clothes and unwashed dishes that threatened to give away my secret. I was dressed to the nines in my best company pantsuit, sitting at my cluttered dining room table. Someone was talking about “metrics” and “analytics” on the screen, but I couldn’t focus on anything but the raging between my legs.

I reached over to straighten my notes, mostly to give my hands something to do, hoping that occupying my brain with something will ease the tempest that was brewing in my bladder. I glanced at the agenda, hoping to have some sense when the meeting will wrap up so I can sprint to the bathroom.

We were still on Item One: Introductions.

Almost as if in response to this distressing revelation, my bladder twinged, and threatened release. I bit my lip, suppressing a cry as I clenched with all my might, pressing my legs together. I knew I wasn’t gonna make it.

My mind started going over possibilities. I could be called on at any second, so leaving wasn’t an option. I just can not risk it. I could speak up, interrupt the meeting to let people know I have to take a potty break so they won’t skip me. But then of course I’ll look like the dumb little girl who couldn’t plan enough to even go to the bathroom before a big, crucial conference call. At this point, simply holding it is not an option…

That left me with only one option.

I glanced down at my pants. Were these the machine washable pants? God, I hoped so. I don’t think there are any other options at this point. I looked past my pants at the floor; it was tile. Hard tile. Meaning any splashing would make a noise, which I could not risk. My mind was racing, and my heart was pounding in my chest. I looked at the webcam, but my eyes were glazed over in wondered. If I am gonna wet my pants during a conference call, I can not risk them hearing the splatter, that would be way worse than just excusing myself to go to the bathroom.

My bladder reminded me that I didn’t have time to ponder this question, and punished me by letting out the tiniest spurt of warm pee into my cotton panties. My eyes widened in dread as I clamped my legs together to stop the flow. I could feel the warm wet spot spreading around my lips, enticing me to release the rest of my bladder. My legs were shaking with the effort of holding, and I knew the clock was ticking.

I glanced around me, vainly looking for something, anything that could help. To my left, a useless stack of unread mail and miscellaneous papers, and to my right… my laundry pile.

Without thinking, I leaned over, eyes on the webcam, keeping my body in frame, and blindly grasped for a handful of clothes. I clasped something that felt like a few shirts and a pair of jeans and pulled, knocking over the precarious pile of clothes to tumble to the floor.

Trying to keep as still as feasible, I bunched up the wad of clothes under my butt, careful to tuck it between my legs and around my cheeks…

Just in the knick of time.

I no sooner had the shirt wadded up between my legs when my bladder accepted the invitation, and a strong stream of Hot pee splashed out of me and into my panties, quickly overflowing into my work pants, and soaking directly into the bunched up shirt between my legs. I closed my eyes, briefly appreciating the relief as endorphins flowed up my spine. My one hand holding the shirt felt the warmth of the liquid flowing out of me, as it quickly overwhelmed the shirt. Coming to my senses, I used my foot to pull a sweater and a skirt from the pile of laundry on the floor to a better position under my chair, as I knew I would soon overflow from the few meager pieces of laundry currently holding back the flood. I relished in the sensation of the warmth spreading between my thighs, down the back of my pants, and pooling around my butt.

“Haley, what about you?”

I jumped at the sound of my name, and pushed an even harder spurt of pee into my pants in response.

“Hi, yes, um good morning everyone!” I stumbled, and reached for my notes. I tried in vain to stop peeing, but it was no use. I managed to stop it for an instant, but it was too late, it was in full flow and would only stop when I ran out. There was nothing I could do now.

I winced as I noticed I grabbed my noted with my wet hand, but it was too late to do anything about it now. I cleared my throat, as warm pee continued flowing into my pants, and was now flowing down my leg into the clothes piled up underneath my chair.

“So we had a number of new hires this month,” I started, surprised at how confident and, well, typical, I sounded, even as I was at that very moment spraying my pants, soaking them with pee. Luckily I had written everything out on my notes, there was no way my brain could generate any original thoughts right now. I couldn’t believe how long the stream was lasting. My wet spot was being constantly refreshed with warm spurts of pee. The bottoms of my feet were wet and clung to the tile of the floor. My thighs were soaked with fresh waves of pee, and I had to adjust my butt to make sure the pee didn’t pour off the back of my chair. The stream showed no signs of slowing down, and continued pounding into my saturated cloth panties as I relaxed and continued giving my update.

“… and as we move into the second quarter, things are looking good!’ I conclude, at the same time as the last few drops poured into my abused panties. I smiled cheerily when I wrapped up, and they thanked me for my report, none the wiser to the scene just off camera. My pants were soaked, the pee somehow spreading to the front of my thighs as well as the back. It dripped down the backs of my calves down my legs to pool by my stocking feet, effectively soaking three shirts, a pair of jeans, a sweater and sweatpants, not to mention the floor around my chair.

I suspected the meeting had another hour or two before wrapping up, so I settled back in my slowly cooling puddle of pee, and exalted in the sensation. I was completely relaxed, and the pee continued to soak into my pants, spreading around as I sat in my puddle. Now that my bladder wasn’t screaming for release, I treated myself to the cup of tea I had brewed for myself before the meeting, and the cup of ice water.

I handled myself pretty well in the meeting, if I do say so myself. I chipped in a few times with relevant ideas and suggestions, and even made a few well-received jokes. But as we were reaching the end of the conference call, I felt a gentle stirring in my bladder. I had been completely relaxed since wetting myself, but now I instinctively clenched up a bit. It wasn’t an emergency like before, but the water and tea had made their way through me, and now were ready to come out.

Sitting in my already soaked panties and pants, surrounded by wet clothes, I was happy to oblige. I let myself relax. Whatever happens at this point, happens. I felt the pee make its way to the bottom, ready to pour out, and it stopped, instinctively, almost as if my bladder was asking permission. Smiling, I gave it my permission by gently pushing, and a small stream of pee was soon warming my wet panties. I delighted as the warmth spread around me as a fresh puddle darkened my work pants. I wiggled side to side as the pee flowed out of me, no longer needing to pretend, relishing in the sensation of wetting myself in front of everyone in the conference call, without anybody knowing my dirty little secret. I could hear the gentle trickle as I wet myself for a second time.

Almost too soon, we were saying our goodbyes, and the computer made little chirps as people departed from the meeting.

“Goodbye everyone!” I said through a giggle, feeling the rush of my secret pleasure.

On second wondered, I’m glad I didn’t pee before this conference call.