Visits to Julia's family were often a little tense, not because of her mother Amanda--we got along like a house on fire-- but because of Anthony Hayward. He made no secret of the fact that he was not too enamoured of his daughter's choice for the role of his future son-in-law. He would have preferred someone with drive, ambition and money, and in his view I didn't cut it in either department. Julia and I therefore arranged some of our visits to coincide with her father's business trips abroad - not often enough to give the impression that we were deliberately trying to avoid him; that would have been disastrous.

      This year, he would not return from New York until late on Christmas eve, giving us a few clear days to really enjoy Amanda's company. Enjoy it I most certain did: Amanda Hayward was a nicely-preserved 47-year-old woman still very capable of turning the head of any man half her age. The strong resemblance between she and Julia meant that I couldn't help finding Amanda both attractive and alluring, and I would be happy if Julia wore even half as well.

      Don't get me wrong: I've never entertained the idea of getting involved with Amanda behind Julia's back, but I certainly had to work at controlling the urge to flirt with her. Besides, if Anthony ever caught the faintest wiff of interest towards his wife on my part, the police would probably find my body buried under the back lawn. They probably wouldn't find me in any great hurry either, since Anthony Hayward had a very large back lawn, and quite a large house. Julia was certainly accustomed to a better lifestyle than I was ever likely to give her, but she didn't seem to care.

      On this particular visit, we arrived to find the house empty. A phone message from Amanda informed us that she had just run up to London for some last minute Christmas shopping, but the car had broken down on the return journey. Because of the time of year, she couldn't get a rental at short notice and had decided to catch a train from the nearest railway station. She ended by saying that she would call again shortly before arriving at Winchester Station, and if we had arrived, would one of us pick her up from the station in case there were no taxis available either.

      "You can go," Julia decided for me. "I want to take a long hot bath in mum's king-sized tub."

      "Thanks," I said sardonically.

      "Do you mind?"

      "Naa. It'll help to keep me on the right side of the old girl."

      Julia gave me a sharp slap across the backside. "Kindly don't refer to my mother as the old girl, not if you want to still be walking after today."

      I leaned over and kissed her briefly. "So many promises."

      Before we could get any further into the usual banter, the phone rang and the answering machine kicked in after four rings. "Hello," said Amanda's voice. "Are you two there yet?" Julia picked up the receiver.

      "Hi mum. We're here, and Dave is just coming to get you."

      A pause followed while Julia listened to what her mother was saying, and to my surprise I saw her eyebrows raise. She covered the mouthpiece and whispered to me. "I'm not sure I should let you go on your own after all."

      She turned her attention back to her mother. "Okay mum. I'll tell him to hurry."

      Light was beginning to dawn.

      Julia hung up and turned to me. "You'll probably be pleased to learn that my mum is already waiting at the station and she's dying for the loo. It seems the Ladies toilets are out of order. Can I trust you to behave yourself if I let you go alone, and not try to make her wet herself before she gets here?"

      "Perish the thought," I retorted, all innocence and indignation.

      "Right," Julia said, rolling her eyes. "Dave, promise me. The last thing we want is to alienate her too. Things are already rocky enough with dad taking digs at you every chance he gets."

      "Hey, it's me," I said, and grinned wolfishly.

      "That's what worries me."

      "All right. Seriously, I'll get her home as fast as I can."

      "Thanks. You're a love."

      "I know that."

      "Vain creature," she said, giving me another playful slap. "Now go. She's really desperate."

      I dutifully ran out to the car and wasted no time is getting underway. Despite my best intentions, I could already feel my penis stiffening. I didn't see how I could stop it. As i've already said, Amanda is a stunner for her age: A figure to die for, and she carries it well. Of course, she can afford good, elegant clothing, and shows it off to the best advantage. I don't think she works at it deliberately; the woman simply has an inate sense of grace lacking in many females decades her junior.

      I played through the potential difficulties in my mind as I drove, carefully keeping close to the speed limits. Amanda had been shopping, so that probably meant quite a few bags. I would have to get out of the car to help her with them, and if I had a serious erection by then, which seemed likely, then she might notice and wonder what was going on.

      I decided on a solution I had employed before, which worked just fine as long as the erection was fully maintained. I reached inside my jeans and raised my penis and allowed the head to project over the top of my underpants. Removing my hand, I felt the waistband and belt of my jeans add to the pressure, and i hoped it would be enough to keep my unruly appendage out of trouble.

      For the rest of the fifteen minute drive, I did not best to concentrate on other things, anything except the vision of Amanda waiting at the station with a bursting bladder, and waiting for me of all people! I wondered idly why she had not chosen to relieve herself before getting off the train? The lavatories on those things were generally not that bad. It then occurred to me that perhaps there had not been a lavatory for her to use. A lot of the local British Rail rolling stock (or whoever actually owned it these days - I can't keep up) was quite old, and many carriages in use were built with comparents not connected by a corridor, thereby denying access to other parts of the train. I suppose the designers felt that facilities were not necessary for short journeys. I'd always thought this arrangement must lead to quiter a few fraught situations.

      As I pulled into the car park, I spotted Amanda waiting close to the exit a little way apart from the taxi rank. There were two taxis standing there, and I dare say she had been tempted to hop into one and get home that bit sooner, but having called us and been told that I was on my way to collect her, she had evidently decided to wait it out. I could tell immediately that she was in a bad way because, rather than standing still, she was pacing up and down, taking three or four mincing steps away from the small mountain of bags that constituted her Christmas shopping, then turning and walking the few steps back.

      When she recognized my car, she beamed a smile which quickly gave way to a pained expression, as if someone had just stepped on her foot. No one had, of course; the source of her discomfort was at the other end of her shapely legs.

      As anticipated, Amanda was very nicely turned out, all in white today. Both she and Julia seemed to favor sharp contrasts in their choice of clothing, either all in black or all in white, and occasionally mixing the two. They both had other colors in their wardrobe, but the propensity for black and white was undeniable

      Amanda was dressed in a half-length coat with a white fur collar (fake because she and her daughter were both firmly against animal cruelty), and a pair of white leather boots (which apparently didn't count). Her head was adorned by a Cossack-style hat only a shade lighter than her shoulder-length blonde hair. She looked thoroughly out of place standing there against the backdrop of the dun-colored station buildings, like a polar bear in Hawaii.

      I pulled up on double-yellow lines, popped the boot open and climbed out to greet her. "Hello Amanda," I said cheerfully, feigning ignorance of her situation and giving her the choice of mentioning it or not. It turned out that she wasn't shy in that department.

      "David. Thanks goodness you're here. You wouldn't believe how much I need the loo."

      I felt a sudden, sharp tension in my groin. This wasn't going to be easy. "Right, I'll get your bags and we'll get going."

      "Thanks," she said, hurrying round to the passenger's side. "You're an angel."

      Pity about the sullied halo, I thought as I retrieved the shopping and loaded it into the boot.

      I couldn't help noticing as I climbed in beside her that Amanda had removed her hat and unbuttoned her coat, and now sat there with her hands clenched into fists, pressing down on the lap of her white skirt. My eyes strayed involuntarily to the hem, now above her knees and showing a couple of inches of stocking-clad thighs. The stockings were, naturally, white. She had her knees squeezed rightly together, which is what I had expected--or at least hoped--to see.

      I smiled at her as she looked up and met my eyes, and I could see the strain of holding back a blaader full of pee reflected in her facial muscles. "How are you, Dave?" she asked as I re-started the engine and maneuvered towards the carpark exit. She tried to sound nonchalant, but I heard the unmistakable tension in her voice.

      "Just fine," I answered brightly. "Looking forward to Christmas. I hope there's something for me in all that lot back there?" I added, gesturing over my shoulder with my thumb.

      "You'll have to wait and find out," she teased.

      I joined the flow of traffic which was slower in this direction. The drive home was clearly going to take longer, and I think Amanda realized this too because her knees suddenly jerked as she lifted her heels. I had a vision of her curling her toes inside her boots, fighting the urge to just start bouncing and squirming as she battled the steadily-mounting pressure on her bladder.

      As the station slowly receded behind us, Amanda said without preamble, "British Rail don't get any better, do they?" Hoping this rhetorical question was the precursor to a fairly detailed account of the circumstances leading to her current dilemma, I agreed and waited for her to contrinue.

      "Would you believe that the hole-in-the-hedge station the AA man took me to catch the train didn't have any toilets? I mean, how can they do that? Expecting passengers to simply wait. Then when I boarded the train, I discovered that the comparments were separate with no interconnecting corridor. Absolutely no chance of getting to a loo. It was a thoroughly unreasonable situation. I can see why they have so much trouble keeping their customers happy."

      "It's hard to believe they get away with using such primitive stock in this day and age," I interjected with considerable feeling, holding in my stomach to avoid crushing my engorged penis still wedged under my belt.

      "I intend to write a letter complaining about the appalling conditions," Amanda went on with feeling. "I had to sit with my legs crossed as we positively crawled along at about thirty miles an hour. It would probably have been faster to get out and walk."

      "Sounds like it."

      "By the time we pulled into Winchester, I was going out of my mind. I hurried off with all my bags and headed straight for the loo, only to find that the Ladies toilets were temporarily out of service due to a burst water pipe."

      "Ouch," I sympathized.

      "Ouch indeed. I thought I was going to lose control and have a burst water pipe of my own. So, I staggered outside and found a telephone. And here I am, still dying for the loo after nearly two hours of waiting. It's absolutely killing my poor bladder."

      As if this statement had served as a reminder of her discomfort, Amanda crossed her legs, showing another few inches of thigh. I did my best not to stare, but it was incredibly difficult to keep my attention on the road ahead.

      "Of course," Amanda said, starting to gabble now, no doubt a sympthom of her acute distress, "I should have called you before the train actually got here, but I didn't imagine for a moment that the loos in the station would be shut. So I was left pacing up and down in the car park for twenty minutes waiting for you."

      "Why didn't you grab a taxi?" I asked, grateful that she hadn't done so. "I would have understood."

      "Oh, they only turned up a minute before you did. I can't imagine how the lazy devils make a living. And they always expect a tip. Damned cheek."

      I only half-listened as she ranted on. The rest of my attention was now held by the way she was swinging her crossed legs from side to side, her fingers were tapping out a rapid tattoo on the front of her skirt.

      I was so disatracted by all this frenetic movement that I didn't notice the traffic ahead had stopped until the last second. I drew in a sharp breath and rammed my foot down on the brake pedal. The car slowed dramatically, throwing us both forward until our seat-belts took up the slack. I felt mine dig sharply into my abdomen, and knew at once that Amanda's must have done the same, pressing on her aching bladder. Sure enough, she let out a sharp gasp, uncrossing her legs and raising her knees in one swift motion. She pulled her knees up so far that her thighs made contact with her breasts.

      "Sorry about that," I apologized.

      "You should have been paying attention to your driving instead of sneaking looks at me," she rebuked me. It shocked me a little that she had noticed me watching her, but then we men always believe we can get away with furtively appraising women, oblivious to the fact that they know exactly what we're doing.

      "Sorry," I offered lamely, my cheeks burning with the embarrassment of having been caught out. I didn't know what else to say to her, other than to deny the obvious which would have been pure folly. I elected to stay silent and let her steer the situation, hoping that she wouldn't choose to say something about it to Julia.

      As if reading my mind, Amanda said, "I know you have an interest in women in my predicament."

      "What?" I exclaimed, unable to believe what I was hearing. Julia; how could you?

      "Don't be cross with Julia,' Amanda said, once again appearing to hear my thoughts. "She let something slip accidentally. Nothing much, but it was enough to pique my interest. I wormed the rest out of her by guessing at the truth."

      "I see." My voice was cool now. I felt betrayed and decided to take refuge in taciturnity.

      "She really didn't volunteer anything," Amanda persisted, sensing my mood. In the periphery of my vision, I watched her rocking back and forth, arms crossed over her breasts, all the signs that she was mind-numbingly desperate to pee. Still, I wasn't going to look at her again.

      Staring resolutely at the stationary traffic ahead, my cheeks still flushed with humiliation, I remained silent. "Look, David, I weedled it out of her because I really wanted to know," Amanda tried to mollify me again, the strain now pronounced in her voice. "I was very surprised to learn that she had discovered the excitement of hold-it games, because, well...to tell you the truth, I...always had a leaning that way."

      My head snapped round and i stared at her in frank astonishment. "You?"

      "Don't look so surprised."

      "But I am. I mean, I never imagined..."

      "I should hope not. I certainly wouldn't want it to be obvious."

      A pause followed during which Amanda straightened up and re-crossed her legs. She stared out of the windscreen, craning her neck in an effort to discover the cause of the delay ahead. "Oh God, if we don't get moving soon," she resumed, her knees bobbing up and down as she tapped her boot heel on the floor, "I don't think we're going to make it home in time."

      My penis chose that moment to slip its moorings and slithered sideways, making a pronounced bulge below my left hip. Amanda was just turning her head to face me again when this happened, and she noticed. "Ah," she said calmly, "I've been wondering where that was hiding."

      "Look Amanda," I began with rising discomfort, "I'm really sorry. I can't help--."

      "It's perfectly all right, Dave," she cut me off, her imperative tone betraying her spiralling agony.

      After another pause during which her features puckered and she began to chew her bottom lip, I ventured, "So...do you and...?"

      "Good heavens, no," she anticipated, making a dismissive gesture with her hand. "Anthony was never interested. He thought it was all just unnatural and forebade me to ever mention it."

      "Silly man. So you've never--?"

      "--indulged my little secret?" she pre-empted me again. "No, never. It's always been a source of frustration to me. That's why I was so fascinated--and pleased--to discover that Julia had found someone like you."

      I shook my head, confused. "But I'm the one with the fetishes, not Jooles. She just...went along with it because I asked her to."

      "At first perhaps. But she quickly developed a taste for it too. Surely you noticed?"

      "Oh yes," I agreed with a huge grin. "I certainly noticed. She's amazing."

      "She's a lucky girl. I only wish...?"

      Whatever her wish might have been, she let it tail off into the ether as the traffic ahead of us began to crawl forward. "Oh thank God," she gasped, then added,

      "I think you'll have you pull off the road for me when we get out of town. I'm never going to make it home in time now."

      I didn't think my throbbing penis could stiffen any further, but it contrived to do so and sent a fresh pulse of hot blood surging along its length. I wasn't that far from ejaculating, and I shifted uncomfortably, wishing I could make some adjustments down there.

      I caught Amanda staring down at my lap. "Oh my," she said wistfully. "If I were only single and twenty years younger..." "You don't need to worry about your age, Amanda" I told her truthfully. "You're an absolutel stunner." I suppose she heard the sincerity in my voice, because she managed a weak smile.

      "Thank you. That's very nice of you."

      "Nice be damned," I said. "You have to know how you look. I'm surprised the TV companies haven't approached you and Jooles to do that mother and daughter advert for...what is it?"

      "You're very kind," she said.

      The urge to touch her was almost overmastering, but I did master it. I loved Julia very much, and the last thing I was going to do was betray her, least of all with her own mother.

      "Oh God!" Amanda exclaimed, making me start slightly. "Dave, I absolutely have to go now. If I hold it in any longer..."

      "Your bladder will burst?" I supplied helpfully. She winced.

      "Exactly. Please pull over."

      "Amanda, I can't. There are cars and people everywhere."

      "I don't care," she retorted, pounding the edge of her right fist against her shaking thigh. "I've got to go."

      "I'm sorry. I can't let you humiliate yourself like that."

      "David, I said now!"

      "No," I said, remaining adamant. "Go on the seat if you have to, but I'm not going to let all the world and his brother witness your humiliation."

      "Right. Just you?" Her tone was sardonic, but I didn't believe she really objected to my insistence that she stay in the car.

      Amanda released a long, shuddering breath and said, "I'm sorry. I'm just going out of my mind with the pain."

      "I know," I said, suddenly feeling sorry for her. "Just let it go, all right."

      "No," she said firmly. "Just get me out of the city as quickly as you can, and as soon as you come to a layby, stop. I'll try to hold on until then."

      "Okay," I agreed. "But it really is all right to let it go." She shook her head.

      "It would ruin the upholstery."

      "I'll get it replaced."

      "No David. I'll wait," she insisted.

      But progress was tediously slow, and long before the houses had thinned out into fields and copses, I knew Amanda was fast approaching her limit. Stopping at some red traffic lights, I looked over at her and saw she had tears running down her cheeks. I really felt for her then, and repeated that she should let it go. She just closed her eyes and went on squirming.

      I caught the sound of a muffled hiss just as the lights turned green and I began to pull away. Looking towards the sound, I found I Amanda pressing both hands ineffectually against the tight skirt covering her crotch. "Nooo," she whined between clenched teeth, then drew in a rapid, sharp breath. "Nooo," she repeated with more determination, but denial alone could not hold back the dam. The hissing sound intensified, and I knew her long wait was over.

      The tang of fresh urine filled the cabin of the car as Amanda sat there and pissed herself. The pee gushed between her still-clenched legs, and a wet patch spread rapidly across the front of her skirt, her spread hands making an futile attempt to hide it. I could imagine how much was soaking into the seat as she continued to relieve herself. Even after fifteen seconds, the hissing sound continued undimished. She had to have been truly bursting.

      "I'm so sorry," she whimpered at last, hanging her head in shame. "I'm so sorry."

      I reached over and lifted her chin, turning her tear-streaked face towards mine. "It's absolutely fine. Please don't upset yourself."

      "But the seat..."

      "It doesn't matter. I'll get it sorted."

      "But what will you tell them, when you take it in?"

      "That I was taking my incontinent old gran Christmas shopping," I said, smiling. Amanda smiled back, nodded once, and then closed her eyes again as she finished emptying her bladder.

      Julia met us in the driveway. As her mother climbed from the car, I saw her daughter's mouth drop open in astonishment. She turned an accusing stare on me, but as I held up my hands in self-defense, Amanda said, "It wasn't his fault. We got stuck in a traffic jam and I couldn't hang on any longer." She straightened her posture which, until then, had been slightly bent forward in an unconscious desire to hide her accident, and announced, "I am going to take a nice, long bath. David, unload the car please. Julia, you can bring me a glass of wine."

      With that, she marched off into the house without a backward glance, leaving me alone with Julia, who said, "I thought for a minute that you'd...?"

      "You blabbed," I interrupted.

      "Oh," she said, attempting a look of contrition. "Yes," she admitted after a pause, "but it's not what you think. You see, she wanted to know because--?"

      "--it's all right,' I cut in. "She told me."

      "She told you?" Julia echoed, evidently very surprised.

      "But you needn't think that lets you off the hook, young lady. You are going to have to pay for your indiscretion."

      "Oh yes. And does this payment involved several glasses of water and a pair of handcuffs?"

      "Three glasses," I rejoined. "fter what I just witnessed, I've got some serious urges to work off."

      "Well as long as you work them off on me."

      "It's a deal," I agreed, and went to unload Amanda's shopping.

      As I carried the bags into the house, the thought struck me for the first time that perhaps Amanda Hayward had engineered her predicament, perhaps in the hope that I would be the one to come and collect her from the station. By her own admission, she had never been able to play out her fantasies with her husband, and I couldn't help but wonder if she had, in some measure, subjugated her desires by allowing herself to get caught out with a full bladder in the presence of someone who enjoyed that kind of thing. If I was right, then perhaps Amanda would contrive a similar predicament for herself in the future.

      I could only hope.