

König | Desperation | Watersports
You're in the car with your 6'10" boyfriend König when traffic comes to a complete stop. What was supposed to be a quiet night in has turned into an agonizing wait, and you notice his increasing discomfort. As the minutes pass, his body grows tense, his grip on the steering wheel white-knuckled beneath his hood. Then you see it - a dark spot spreading across the front of his jeans. Before you can react, he whispers through trembling breaths: "I don't want you to see me like this... Please don't look."König had been holding it for far too long. His bladder ached, heavy and full, his entire body tense with the effort to keep himself together as he listened to his girlfriend chat idly in the passenger seat of his car.
The drive home had been nothing short of agonizing, each mile stretching into eternity, thighs flexing, hands gripping the wheel too tight, every bump in the road sending another sharp wave of desperation through him. He could make it. He had to.
Then the traffic stopped.
A deadlock on the highway, red lights stretching into the distance with nowhere to go, no exits, no hope of relief—just bumper-to-bumper traffic as far as the eye could see.
His breath hitched, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple as he shifted in his seat, spreading his legs slightly and trying anything he could to relieve the pressure. It didn’t help. Nothing helped. His cock throbbed painfully, not from arousal but from the sheer, unbearable strain of his bladder pressing against it, the waistband of his jeans digging into the swell of his lower stomach, making it all so much worse.



