Robin packed her cooler and bag into the back of her pickup truck, a Ford F450. She tapped her pockets. Phone? Check. Keys? Check. The brown coyote went up front and climbed into the truck. She was a somewhat, lean, tomboy who drove big trucks and wore mens swim trunks. Today she was headed to the beach to meet her friend, so she wore black swim trunks and a green bikini top. She sipped a bit of water from her bottle and pulled out of the driveway, ready for a day at the beach. It was a warm sunny day and she wasn’t going to miss it.

She clicked on the radio and dialed through the stations. Bzzt… “And then she said”... Bzzt… “Traffic on highway fou-”... Bzzt… “si quieres un mal momento”... Bzzt. She clicked through until she found some music to listen to. The beach wasn’t that far, just a short trip on the highway headed East which conveniently connected straight to the coastal road. She took another sip of water, it was a hot day. Getting in the water would feel amazing for sure. Thinking of water, she felt a twinge down below, she had a small urge to go but it could wait, the beach wasn’t too far and she had just pulled onto Highway Forty.

Twenty minutes into her drive traffic was slowing, it wasn’t too unusual during the week living in a highly populated area and all. She brought her bottle to her lips, tilting it back far. It was running low, the heat of today making her thirsty. She finished the last few swigs and placed it back in the cup holder. She noticed all the cars in front of her were braking, and she slowed to a snail's pace. ‘What was going on? Traffic usually isn’t this bad.’ Soon though, all the cars stopped and she was stuck in traffic. Without the distraction of driving her bladder came back to attention, sending a stronger signal, telling her it was filling up. ‘Ugh, of course I have to pee when there’s standstill traffic.’

Another twenty minutes had passed and while traffic on the road wasn’t moving, all the water she drank was moving it’s way through her body. She put a hand on her thigh and gave it a quick squeeze, not worried, just annoyed. She left her hand there as she grabbed her phone from her pocket. She opened the local news and read the latest section, “Car accident on Highway Forty, traffic backed up for miles.” Well, there was the reason for her predicament. The hand resting on her thigh slid into her crotch, giving gentle pressure. As she feels momentary relief she also sees traffic starting to move. She takes her foot off the brake and continues her drive, slowly making her way down the highway.

It’s not long until she passes by the accident, an entire freight truck on its side blocking two lanes. One she passes by it traffic spreads out to all lanes speeding things up significantly. She speeds up going ten over the posted speed limit. She keeps a paw near her crotch, giving it an occasional rub to relieve the pressure, it was getting worse. With traffic cleared it’s not long until she makes it to her turn onto the coastal road. She deliberates making a stop at the corner store to relieve herself but it’s only ten more minutes to the beach. She miscalculated however that the coastal road was of course, right up against the water. She tried not to look but it was hard to miss the waves splashing along the coast. She had to grip herself tightly, ‘Not too much longer, hold on.’

Robin pulls into the parking lot, scanning for a free spot to park. One hand pressed deeply between her legs. Her left leg was tapping impatiently as she waited for someone to back out of a spot. “Come on, come on,'' she muttered, willing them to go faster. She pulled into the spot the moment the car was clear and undid her seatbelt. No longer driving she was able to squeeze her legs together tightly and hold with both hands. She looked around for the restroom sign, ready to run the moment she stepped out of the car. She spotted the sign and prepared herself for the run.

She opened the door and stepped out from her large truck, her feet hitting the ground with a thud. Psss. She clamped her hands on her crotch, feeling a wet spot. She had just leaked. Her plan immediately left her mind, she wasn’t going to make it. The coyote took a quick look around, she didn’t see anyone. What hard would wetting her swim trunks really do? She would just get into the ocean in a minute. The thought of the ocean made up her mind.

She let go of her crotch and stood up, parting her legs slightly. Immediately she could feel the crotch of her black swim trunks get warm and wet with her pee. She sighed with relief as the pee ran down her fur, over her paws, into the sand creating a large dark spot. She could feel her bladder start to deflate, the river still flowing down her legs a minute later. She leaned against her car, the immense feeling wearing her out. Her stream began to taper, so she push hard to get the last bits out, to be completely empty. 

Once she finished, she ran a hand down her stomach and over her soaked crotch. “Fuck that felt good.” She wiped her hand off, and took a few moments to compose herself. She went to the back of her pickup, grabbed her cooler and bag, holding them in front of her as she made her way to the beach. Robin felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, probably her friend wondering what was taking so long. But her friend wasn’t on the beach yet, they were in their car parked just across from Robin. They had watched Robin pee her swim trunks, now filled with a confused feeling deep in their core.