The more desperate you are for a pee, the more awesome it is when you let go! In the father/son incest forum I posted a few times about how Dad would help me dress in multiple layers of tight clothes in order to lose weight through sweating in them, and how much I enjoyed blasting-off in them and how Dad often got a kick out of watching me. When dressed in 15 or more tight layers, it's quite impossible to strip down enough to pee, especially if some of the layers are dungarees, and I wore a pair of extremely tight dungarees over every 6 layers, so I had to pee in my pants. I soon learned that if my boner was really hard I couldn't pee until it went soft again. So, when I felt the urge, I'd thrust my hips forward and back a few times until I was hard again. I also found that when I reached the point of no return before blasting-off and then stopped suddenly, standing stock-still, as the sensations subsided, the urge to pee returned, and when it did, I began to thrust my hips forward and back until I was at the point of no return again and stopped. Each time I did this, my balls assumed I had shot my load, so they set about preparing another batch. Thus, when I did, eventually, blast-off, I shot a massive load before peeing copiously and then blasting-off again a few times. One day Dad caught me doing this and he coached me. I always drank a lot to replace the fluids I lost through sweating, and, of course, in order to pee more! He encouraged me to drink what felt like about a gallon of gainer shake and when I felt the urge to pee he guided me to the point of no return, thrusting my hips forward and back with as much force as I could muster. I stopped and stood still as the sensations subsided. Previously my record for pull-backs from the point of no return was four. This time, with Dad's encouragement, I managed six. At the sixth point of no return he told me to stop and stand still in front of him. Then he told me to squat down as much as I could, which wasn't very much, given that I was wrapped in 18 extremely tight layers inside waders so tight it was almost impossible to bend my knees, and I was to come back up slowly, and thrust my hips forward with as much force as I could. I was to repeat this action 10 times, but only as he counted out the numbers and, on the count of 10, I was free to thrust my hips forward and back as fast as I wanted to until I blasted-off. He counted very slowly and by the count of five I was panting like a wind-broken old horse, whimpering in pain, and squealing with excitement. I begged and pleaded with him to hurry up, but the more I did so, the slower he counted. Finally, as he got to 10, I began to thrust my hips forward and back as fast as I could go and within seconds I blasted-off with an exultant scream, shooting about half a dozen spurts of hot jizz into my tight swimming trunks. Then I peed like a fire-hose for about half a minute. I was still rock-hard, and still thrusting, as the sensations increased, until I blasted-off a second time. Then I peed some more, feeling the hot pee spreading across my lower abdomen to my hips and then down my thighs a little bit before it was soaked up by my sweat-dampened inner layers. As I was still very excited I began to thrust my hips again until I had blasted-off a third and fourth time. Awesome!