“That was incredible!” Amanda said as we walked out of the movie theater. 

“It was ok,” Matt answered.

“Not exactly your type of movie. Thanks for going to see it with me. You know how long I’ve been waiting for it to come out.”

“Of course. That’s what a good husband does. Even if the movie is three hours long.”

“Was it really that long? That explains why my bladder is bursting. We shouldn’t have gotten the large popcorn and drink.”

“Same. I’m gonna head to the bathroom.”

“I’ll wait here.”

Matt turned to Amanda with a confused look on his face and said, “Didn’t you just say your bladder was bursting?”

“Oh it is,” she said with a mischievous smile, “but I want to do something special for you, so I am going to hold it until we get home.”

I was absolutely stunned. Amanda had always been very reluctant to participate in my female desperation fetish.

“Don’t just stand there gawking. Go to the bathroom and be quick about it. I can’t hold it forever and I at least want to make it home before I wet myself.”

I ran to the bathroom; I was so excited. By the time I returned Amanda was standing with her legs crossed fidgeting.

As soon as she saw me she said, “Let’s go. I am not sure how long I can hold it. My bladder is getting more full by the second.”

We walked to the car in complete silence. I was still in shock and she was focusing on remaining in control of her bladder. As we sat in the car and headed out of the parking lot, I could tell she was regaining her composure slightly.

“How are you doing?” I asked. 

“Much better now that I am sitting down. How are you doing?” She said reaching her hand across the car and placing it on my knee. Slowly she slid her hand up my leg until she found my cock.

“Jesus Christ! Your cock is rock hard,” she exclaimed. 

“Why are you surprised? I’ve been telling you about this fetish for years.”

“I knew it would turn you on, but I …”

“Amanda, I’m so turned on right now I would cum in an instant if you touched my cock.”

“What would happen to your cock if I told you I plan on wetting myself in the shower when we get home?”

“Are you serious?!”

“I even setup cameras so you can relive this experience over and over again.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Every day.”

We drove on in silence for most of the ride home. I glanced over at my wife as much as possible without driving off the road, taking note of the various positions she experimented with to ease her sore bladder. At first she tried just crossing her knees and bending forward, then she moved her feet onto the dashboard and pulled her knees to her chest. Finally she just shoved her hands between her legs and squeezed her thighs together.

When we were about five minutes from our house she broke the silence and said, “you better drive fast or I’m not going to make it to the bathroom.”

“Be careful. If you keep saying things like that I might cum in my pants and drive us off the road.”

“Things like what? Like that my bladder feels like it’s about to pop or that I think a few drops may have already leaked into my panties. Or maybe if I told you that I’m actually enjoying this much more than I thought I would.”

I gripped the steering wheel as hard as I could and stared at the road as my cock spasmed. Just barely, I was able to prevent myself from exploding in my pants.

“Good boy. Save all that cum for later.”

“If you think I’m going to last more than three seconds you’re insane."

“Oh I know, but I’ve got plans for that cum.”

The last few minutes of the drive were torture for both of us. My cock was straining painfully against my pants and her intermittent sighs revealed she wasn’t lying when she said she might not make it to the shower.

I pulled into the driveway almost spinning out and practically ran to the front door. By the time I got the front door open my wife was not far behind me. She walked through the door and headed straight for the master bathroom.

I followed behind her shedding my clothes as we went. She ripped off her top and tossed it on the bed on her way into the bathroom. As she opened the door my jaw dropped. She didn’t set up a webcam on her laptop or a stand for her phone. There were two production quality video cameras mounted on tripods. She walked into the shower such that one camera would capture the front of her body and another would capture the back.

“Come stand here, but don’t block the camera.” I moved into position without saying a word. “I have one rule, you must tell me before you cum. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I waited for a few seconds and then it began. A small wet patch appeared on the front of her jeans. It grew steadily until it began to splinter into streams down her thighs. My eyes followed the streams as they journeyed down her legs to the floor. By the time I moved my eyes back up to her crotch the wet spot covered most of the front of her jeans. 

“Turn around,” I tried to say but the words did not form properly, but Amanda must have understood because she spun around and bent forward placing her hands on the shower wall and sticking her ass out.

The wet spot on the back was even larger than the front. The majority of her ass was covered by soaking wet denim clinging to her checks like a second skin. The streams down the backs of her legs were larger than the front and thickening until the entire pant leg was just one large wet spot.

I reached to stroke my cock, but before I even stroked it once I was ready to cum. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” I screamed. In an instant, Amanda spun back around, dropped to her knees, and slammed my cock into her throat. She gagged as I shot one of the biggest loads of my life into her mouth.