TNTP Yes, go make breakfast.

From Create Your Own Story

You walk naked into the kitchen and turn on the lights. You are writhing, and you feel water at the precipice of your pussy. Bread in the toaster, three minutes. The challenge is thrilling. The curtains are down here too, so thankfully no neighbour can see you, curling your toes, bouncing on the balls of your feet, and clutching the base of your tummy. There wasn't much point in getting dressed yet: whatever you donned would shortly be ruined. You realize you have minutes, and no longer, before release overwhelms you. But you are committed: no return to the bathroom. Toast pops up. You shuffle very gingerly over to butter it. You are thirsty, and could do with an orange juice, but the very thought of splashing liquid into a glass is nearly enough for you to lose control, never mind doing it. You tell yourself you can get through the toast, at least, without disgracing yourself. You sit down awkwardly, avoiding twists and twinges in your abdomen, and crunch on the toast. The cushion feels good against your bum, and as you plant your legs either side, you are reminded of a very comfortable toilet seat. That feeling when you really need to go, get there just in time, and feel a thousand happy sensations pop in your head... No, snap out of out, you tell yourself. You hurriedly lift your legs onto the coffee table and cross your feet. You squeeze your thighs together. You're almost done eating, and fuck it, you can run to the bathroom in just a few seconds more. You gobble the last morsel of toast, then bend forward to replace your plate on the table. Sadly, that contortion turns out to be your breaking point. You gasp, 'No,' as clear water streams up the insight of your thighs, dripping over the floor and down your calves. As the ecstasy hits you, you recline and open your legs, clear water surging up in an arc, splattering on the coffee table and wetting your feet. After almost passing out from the relief, you feel warm dampness all down your legs, and see a sheet of liquid cascading down either side of the coffee table onto the floor. You grudgingly, but feeling rewardingly naughty, mop up, jump in the shower, and get ready for work. Where do you work?