Toilette

"I should have pee'd before I went out."

Nellie shifted her weight, squeezing her legs together, a drop of excitement mingling with the urge to relieve herself. For most people, the solution would have been to do it on the spot and cover it with sand, but she didn't want to "pollute" the environment.

She headed toward the restroom, walking with that quick, tense pace typical of someone on the verge of bladder collapse.

When she finally reached the bathroom door, Nellie found a marker sign that mentioned a "fun toilette" in a part of the beach where no one ever goes.

"Well, it won't hurt to take a look." Nellie whispered to herself, her bladder pulsing with a rhythmic, insistent throb.

The urge had transformed from a simple annoyance to an imperious presence. Every step toward the remote, secluded part of the beach felt like a challenge, but eventually she got there. And he should be thankful for making that effort.

There was a brunette girl buried in the sand, and judging by her protruding breasts, she was beautiful and naked. Nearby was a sign: Fun Toilette.

"Now that's worth a piss."