"How much?"

      "A lot," I emphasized, and she smiled wanly.

      "Well, I'd better go and clean up and find out just how much a lot is."

    She dug around in my pocket for the door key, retrieved it and unlocked the door. She stepped inside and switched on the hall light and began climbing the stairs to the bathroom. As she went, I noticed the way the hall light glistened on her wet stockings. My mind was electrified. I had finally witnessed it, and it had been even more stimulating that I hoped.

      I retrieved her suitcase from the boot of the Volvo and joined Julia in the shower, helping to wash her before I dealt with the sticky mess I had all over my groin. Afterwards, we toweled each other down, a mildly erotic sensation in itself, and then sank into bed.

      We made love immediately. She seemed to have an urgent need to satiate her sexual desires, and she had three organisms one after the other. Then we slackened the pace, becoming more attentive to one another, and all the while I remained as hard as a rock. My penis was still rigid when we finally sank down on our respective pillows to sleep, some time in the small hours of the morning. For me, the contentment was unbelievable. I had finally been able to indulge one of my fantasies with a beautiful young woman. The only thing which staved off sleep for a while was my wondering if I could ever bring up the subject of the other with her. As things turned out, she made that easy for me.

      We woke late, not surprisingly. When I opened my eyes, I found Julia's face before me, her head propped on her left hand, her supporting elbow pressed into her pillow. I felt her bend one of her legs and rub it up my right thigh. It seemed a wonderful way to start a new day, and I did not suppress the groan at the pleasure I felt. I lay a hand on her thigh as it came within reach, relishing the softness of her skin.

      "That was quite a revelation last night," she said, smirking, her blue eyes peeping through the strands of her fringe. "Why didn't you tell me about your.... interest before?"

      "Why do you think?" I said, shrugging slightly. "I didn't think you'd be interested. More likely, I thought it would scare you off."

      She considered this for a moment, then said, "No. I admit I was a little surprised, but when I discovered how much it affected you, it got interesting."

      "You were pretty ratty in the car," I said, trying to avoid making it sound like a rebuke. Her smile broadened.

      "I did, didn't I," she agreed, and lowering her leg, slid a hand up the inside of my thigh until it met my testicles. The response was immediate: The sac tightened as if I had just jumped into cold water.

      "Oooooh," she crooned, clearly pleased with the effect. She scratched gently with her fingernails a few times and then let her fingers walk up my erect penis. "And this," she gave it a squeeze, "was amazing too. I don't think it went down once. It's hard to believe that my having a full bladder on the way home could be responsible for such a powerful response."

      "Believe it," I said.

      "I really was bursting though," she said, her voice becoming a little reflective. "I couldn't sit still for a second in the car, and when you grabbed my arse outside the front door, I could have screamed." She stopped. My penis had suddenly stiffened in her hand, and she looked at me in mild surprise. "Does even my talking about it turn you on?" she asked. When I nodded, she gave my penis another squeeze and laid her head down on the pillow. "Really?" she pressed, and when I confirmed it again, she began recounting the events of the previous evening from her perspective. The effect on my penis was electrifying.

      "I was dying to hold myself with my hands, but I felt too embarrassed to put them up inside my skirt, to begin with anyway, because I knew you'd see. I knew you were watching me every few seconds instead of concentrating on the road." She paused, gripped my foreskin between her thumb and middle finger, then began to roll it back and forth over the sensitive tire on the head of my penis. I could feel my sperm stirring again, and wondered idly where the hell it was all coming from.

      "I was bursting by the time we got to the end of the road, and my skirt felt like it had shrunk about three sizes. I was in total agony and would have done anything to be able to relieve my aching bladder. I've never been that frantic to go before. Never. It was the first time I've wet myself as an adult."

      "Did you enjoy it?" I couldn't help asking.

      "The relief of being able to let go of all that urine, yes. As for actually wetting myself, it wouldn't be my first choice. However," she paused again, moving her face closer to mine, "now that I know it pushes your buttons, I'm not entirely averse to the idea."

      "Meaning you might let yourself get into a desperate situation like that again?" My voice was hopeful, and my heart started to sink when she hesitated.

      "Not all the time, but occasionally would be all right," she conceded finally. "Is that okay with you?"

      "Oh yes," I said, pecking her on the cheek. "That is fantastic. More than I hoped for actually. I thought you would be furious and refuse to ever let anything like that happen again." She bobbed her head from side to side a few times as if pondering what I'd said, and then gestured in the affirmative.

      "Last night, I didn't think I would let it happen again. The pain was awful, and it's not something you want to put yourself through unless you have to."

      "Oh," I said, feeling a little crestfallen.

      "What's that face for?" she asked, jabbing my nose with the tip of hers. "I've already said I'd do it again some time. In fact, I wouldn't mind going to the loo now."

      "Really?" She nodded, then added playfully, "so now that you're nice and firm, how about making love to me while I hold it?"

      "Really?" I repeated, hardly able to believe my ears.

      "Come on," she said, pulling at my penis to encourage me to mount her.

      "Just remember to be a bit gentle, in case I get desperate and end up wetting the bed."

      I sank myself deep inside her while I kissed her and ran my fingers through her hair, all the time thinking about how my erection was ramming against the wall of her bladder. I wondered how badly she needed to go, and hoped she wasn't just stringing me along. When we finished, I was gratified to see her roll out of bed and make a dash for the en-suite bathroom. I listened to her groan with relief as she released a fast torrent of pee into the bowl, and knew that she hadn't been faking it at all.

      Half an hour later, we were sitting in the living room drinking mugs of coffee and chatting, mostly about her work. I had dropped into an armchair, while Julia had elected to sit on the corner of the coffee table, something she habitually did.

      She a had showered and dressed herself in a thin white, short-sleeved sweater and a white skirt. Her legs were bare, but that was just fine - she had lovely skin, just as alluring to me as any pair of stockings.

      She stretched out her left leg and began rubbing her foot against my calf, smiling impishly. I knew something was coming. After a few moments, she began thoughtfully, "In the pub last night, when I asked you if your request for me to hold my pee was for real and called you a dirty dog, you said that I didn't know the half of it." She paused again, pondering how to continue. "What did you mean by that?" she asked finally.

      "Oh, nothing really. Just something to say I suppose."

      "No," she said, shaking her head slowly. "I think you were serious. You've got another fetish, haven't you?"

      I didn't answer at first. She waited, watching me with such earnestness that I felt my cheeks redden. Seeing this, she grinned. "You have, haven't you. Care to share that one too?" Again, I hesitated.

      "I'm not sure that's a good idea," I replied evasively.

      "Why not? Is it really horrible or something? Are you a sadist?"

      "No," I said, then considered. "Well, I suppose you might call making a girl hold her pee when she's bursting to let it out sadistic."

      "Hmm, you might," she conceded, then prompted me again. "Look, you've already told me about the pee thing, so why not tell me the rest. Who knows, I might not mind it."

      She had me, hooked line and sinker. I took a deep breath and confessed. "I... I also like the idea of seeing a beautiful girl tied up."

      "Oh yes?" she teased. "And does she have to be beautiful?"

      "Frankly, yes," I admitted, and she nodded her head a couple of times.

      "There's a strong sexual component to it."

      "Oh dear. Well, that let's me out," she said, pulling a face which told me she was playfully angling for a compliment.

      "You're right at the top of my list," I informed her, which was perfectly true.

      "Right, so let me get this straight," she said, her voice contemplative, her hand reaching down to slide the hem of her skirt up her long, shapely thigh. "You like to see women dying to go to the loo, and you also like to see them tied up. And gagged? Do you want them to be gagged as well?"

      "Sometimes," I said abstractedly, my attention transfixed by the way she was playing with the hem of her skirt.

      "Okay. So, if both of these things turn you on separately, what happens if you combine them?"

      I didn't dare speak. I was afraid that if I did, I would start salivating.

      "Come on. What if you had a beautiful woman, which is to say me," she said warningly, "who's really struggling with a full bladder, and some heartless swine has tied her to a chair so she can't get to the loo to relieve herself?"

      "Sounds...," I hesitated, swallowing as I searched for a sufficient dramatic response, my eyes still following her long fingers as they continued sliding the hem of hem skirt higher and lower, higher and lower. In the end, I settled on a somewhat lame response. "Sounds fantastic."

      "Hmmm," she said, pursing her lips. "I suppose this poor desperate girl would have to hang on for a long time?"

      "In all likelihood," I supplied at once and with obvious enthusiam. Then I winced; this answer was hardly calculated to induce her to participate in my little fantasy.

      "What a surprise," she said, standing up and coming round to my side of the table, allowing her skirt to fall back into place and cover her thighs.

      She gestured for me to lean back so that she could sit on my lap. Her left arm went around my shoulders to steady herself while her right stroked my cheek. "You are a very bad boy," she said softly and with emphasis, prodding the end of my nose with her forefinger. "I wonder, just how many times have you talked some poor girl into being a desperate-to-pee captive?"

      "Never," I answered truthfully. She lifted an interrogative eyebrow. "It's true," I insisted. "I've never worked up the courage to ask anyone."

      "Oh really? And why am I so privileged?" she inquired, tweaking my nose a little harder, perhaps daring me to suggest that she had some aura about her which invited this kind of audacity.

      "I asked last night because..." I faltered. "Well, actually, I can't believe I worked up the courage. And as for the other, you were astute enough to pick up on it without me saying a word."

      "Oh, so now you think flattery with get me to agree to anything?"

      "God, I hope so," I told her, and she laughed and kissed me.

      "We'll see," she said.

      She seemed to be mulling something over as she sat there, and I almost got as far as asking if she was prepared to let me tie her up that very weekend. Before I could work up the courage, however, she resumed, "So, since you have this fetish...sorry, I mean fetishes, I suppose you've got a secret stash of whips and chains?"

      "Um, no. I'm not into that stuff. I do own a pair of handcuffs though."

      "I am so shocked. And you said you'd never tied anyone up before."

      "I haven't. They were a present from a mate of mine who's a copper."

      "And is he into this sort of thing too, this pervy policeman friend of yours?"

      "No. At least, I don't think so." I hesitated to consider this for a moment, then shrugged. "Actually, how can you tell?"

      "If this visit has taught me anything," she replied, "it's that you can't. So, can I see them?"

      "See what? The handcuffs?"

      "No, the Crown Jewels, silly. What do you think?"

      "Sure," I said, finishing off my coffee.

      I went into my bedroom, retrieving the handcuffs from the back of the bottom drawer in my bedside cabinet, and returned to the living room holding them up by one bracelet saying, in the customary tone reserved for imitating policemen: "'Ello, 'ello, 'ello. I think you'd better come along with me, Miss. Don't give me any trouble now." Julia giggled. "You'd make a good copper."

      "Cheek."

      "So, put them on me," she suggested, holding out her wrists. "Or does they have to be behind my back?"

      "No, in front will do, Miss," I continued with the copper impression. I snapped the bracelets on her wrists, careful not to close them too tightly, then feigned a moment of panic. Patting my pockets, I said, "Oh no. I'm not sure if I've still got the key."

      She looked alarmed for a second, then broke into a grin. "Pig," she said, then tugged gently at the cuffs, pulling on the the short chain connecting the bracelets. "They're pretty restrictive, aren't they."

      "Yep. Can't have criminals sliding their hands under their feet and making a run for it," I said.

      We played around for a few more minutes before I retrieved the key and released her, thinking nothing of the way she followed me into the bedroom and watched me put both cuffs and key away. "Careful, aren't we?" she teased as I returned them to their hiding place.

      "Too right. I can't bear to think what would happen if my mother paid one of her surprise visits and found them." Julia looked mildly alarmed.

      "Is that the sort of thing she's likely to do?" she asked.

      "Only at Christmas and on my birthday...as a rule. You never quite now with mothers, do you."

      "I suppose not," she agreed. "Still, I wouldn't like to think of her just turning up when we were..." The let that tail off and waggled her eyebrows suggestively. I kissed her and we returned to the living room.

      A little later, I phoned through a reservation at a nice restaurant I knew in Canterbury for eight that evening, then suggested a trip into town to buy a few CDs. "Actually Dave," she said, her voice subdued, "I've got a bit of a headache, so I'd rather not."

      "Oh, I'm sorry. We don't need to go out at all if you like. Just a quiet weekend. Shall I cancel the reservation for tonight?"

      "No, don't be silly. I'm sure I'll be fine by then." She hesitated, then went on, "Actually, I think all I need is a lie down for a bit." I raised my eyebrows at the suggestion, and she prodded my nose playfully. "Not with you," she said. "Why don't you go and get you CDs while I rest, and then I should be fine."

      "No, that's okay" I said. "I'll stay here."

      "No, please Dave. I don't want you to stay in on my account. I want you to go."

      I almost had the feeling she was trying to get rid of me. I could hardly know how right my suspicion would turn out to be. "But," she added, as if in mitigation, "I'd like you to take your cellphone with you, so that I can call if I need you."

      I was a little dubious about leaving her if she wasn't feeling well, but I relented and, about twenty minutes later, was on the road into Canterbury. It was about two-thirty.

      I went to the Virgin megastore and browsed through the endless rows of disc on offer, finding one or two oldies I still wanted to add my collection. I must have been browsing for much longer than I thought because, when I looked at my watch again, it was almost three-thirty. I wondered how Julia was doing.

      As if she had read my mind, my cell started trilling just as I joined the long queue at the checkout. "Dave?" said an uncertain voice, as if the caller were unsure of having tthe right number.

      "Hi Jooles," I responded cheerfully. "How are you feeling now?"

      "Feeling? Oh, um, fine."

      "You don't sound very sure," There was a long pause. "Julia. You still there?"

      "Yes," she confirmed. Another silence.

      "Is something wrong?" I asked, beginning to feel anxious.

      "No, not really, but I think you had better get home as soon as you can," she said. For a brief moment, I felt a panic animal clawing at the inside of my rib cage.

      "What's wrong love?" I asked anxiously.

      "Nothing. I'm all right. Really. I'm just..."

      "What?" I prompted.

      Her next words were like the sound of rain on a parched desert. "I need to go to the loo and I can't get there."

      I wanted to ask a great many questions at that point, but standing in the checkout queue surrounded by girls and their boyfriends, I couldn't say too much. Besides, I could already feel my penis starting to stiffen, and I wasn't wearing a jacket which would help to hide the bulge. "Um, why not?" I inquired as non-committally as I could manage.

      "You know that wooden chair in your bedroom?" she asked.

      "Yeah."

      "Well, I've just tied myself to it using some rope I found in your garden shed. I hope you don't mind, but I had to cut it up."

      "Um, I... no, that...that's fine." I was stammering as my mind performed cartwheels trying to get itself around what she was telling me. "Can you--can you just say that again. The signal's a bit weak and you're breaking up."

      "It sounds perfectly clear at this--oh. You're not in the car."

      "Um, no, I'm waiting to pay for my CDs. I'll be in here about another ten minutes."

      "Oh," she said, and I thought I detected concern in her voice. "I thought you'd be on your way back by now."

      "Sorry. I got carried away," I said. "So, you were saying," I prompted again, anxious to steer her back to the previous conversation.

      "After what you told me earlier, I decided I would persuade you to go out on your own and then... surprise you."

      "Oh, you've certainly done that," I informed her, slipping a hand into the front left pocket of my jeans in an effort to conceal the bulge being made by my rapidly swelling penis.

      "Good. You want the details?" she asked, knowing full well that I did.

      "Tell me everything."

      The girl in front of me in the queue gave me an odd look, and I offered her a reassuring smile. It must have looked odd because she quickly faced forward again and did her best to pretend I wasn't there.

      "Well, first of all I slipped into a short black shirt and a pair of tights. I know you prefer stockings, but my only pair was still a bit damp from the wash they had this morning. Hope you don't mind."

      "Not at all," I encouraged. "Go on."

      "Okay, I tied my legs together around the ankles and above the knees, with the result that they're trussed up like a Christmas turkey's."

      "Oh God," I exclaimed involuntarily, my voice rising more than I intended. I avoided meeting the curious stares of the people around me.

      "Then I tied some rope to the top of the chair and secured it across my front, right below my breasts. It makes them stand out quite a bit. I think you'd like that too."

      "Mmmm," I agreed.

      "Then, I finished everything off by handcuffing my hands behind me. The key is still in your bedside drawer, so there's absolutely no way I can get to it. So, there you are: I'm stuck here until you come home and rescue me."

      "Julia," I whispered, trying to keep the frantic note out of my voice. "That's...that's..."

      "Oh, listen to you, all speechless. And there was me thinking it wasn't possible. Oh, and one more thing."

      "What?"

      "I drank your bottle of spring water before I tied myself to the chair, and I can already feel the pressure starting to build up inside my bladder."

      She fell silent, apparently waiting for my reaction. When I said nothing, she teased, "You're very quiet, Dave. Having a spot of trouble down below?"

      "Um, as it happens, yes. Quite a lot."

      "Good. Blushing, are we?"

      "Um, yep. As a matter of fact, I am."

      "Wonderful. And are you standing with one hand in your pocket trying to hide the bulge in your jeans?"

      "You're a bad girl," I said in mild rebuke.

      "Glad you think so. Right, what else? Oh yes, before I locked my wrists inside the handcuffs, I attached the microphone headset to my cellphone and hooked it over my ear, pressed the memory button with your number and, after you answered, I pulled open the neck of my top and tucked it inside my bra. So whatever you do, don't ring off, because I can't re-dial."

      "Wow," I said, now desperate to pay for the CDs and just get out of there. I wanted to be at home witnessing all this.

      I was longing to ask her when she lasted visited the toilet, wondering if she had been at all since I left. Desperate for an answer, I tried to come up with a discrete way to ask her. "I see. So, how long has it been, altogether?"

      "What do you mean?"

      "Um, well..." My hesitation seemed to help the penny to drop.

      "Oh, are you asking how long since I last went to the loo?"

      "Yes."

      "Naughty boy," she teased. "Well, let me see, I went just after we drank coffee this morning. That must have been... about ten?"

      "Ten thirty," I supplied.

      "Right. And it's now about querter to three, so the answer is more than four hours ago. And just so that you know, my bladder is starting to seriously twinge now, so I need you to get here as soon as possible before I get to bursting point and get all ratty again."

      "I'll be there as soon as I can," I promised.

      I finally arrived at the checkout and the shop girl began processing my credit card. Through the ear-piece of my cell, I could hear noises, heavy breathing I thought. It suggested that poor Julia was beginning to feel the strain on her bladder. I couldn't believe she'd put herself through this agony twice in the space of twenty-four hours, but I was truly grateful that she had. It only remained for me to show her how grateful.