So anyway, this happened to me twelve years ago, during my misspent college years. First, for your horny readers out there who like to know these things, I'm five foot seven, I have hazel eyes, my build is cuddlesome (and you can take that how you like) and at that time my hair was dyed red (now it's back to its natural medium-brown). I like to think I have pretty nice boobs. My husband likes them anyway. They’re not huge but they look pretty good under a tight top.
I had just spent three months in Spain on an exchange trip, and I was in the plane about to fly home. Well, to cut a long story short, the flight was delayed, and we were stuck out on the tarmac for FIVE HOURS. It turned out that the cause of delay was a problem with the toilets, and they only had one toilet working. After three hours, the queue was taking up half of the length of the plane!
I joined the queue after about two hours because I was in desperate need of a number two. But then I heard the flight attendants telling people, “No solids, no solids”. And at first I thought maybe they just meant that people couldn’t flush paper towels and tampons and suchlike. But no, I heard one guy saying, “You mean I can’t take a dump?” And the flight attendant said that no, he couldn’t. I found out afterwards that people had been flushing inappropriate items and there was a major blockage which they were trying to resolve.
I was about fifth in line when one of the flight attendants said, “No more! Toilet is blocked!” Everyone groaned, and the woman in front of me asked if the pilot was going to take the plane back to the terminal. But apparently that was not the plan. Instead, they just started handing out empty water bottles to the people in the queue! It was outrageous! Some of the passengers were getting really upset and angry by this point.
I took my bottle back to my seat, but although by now I needed to pee as well, I’m a woman: I couldn’t use a bottle! So I just crossed my legs and tried to think about something else.
Eventually they fixed the toilets, but they wouldn’t let anyone in until the plane took off. As soon as the seatbelt light went off, there was this mad stampede for the toilets, and I found myself about fifteenth in line. I was so desperate to pee now that it was like torture! And eventually I lost control, and I wet myself right there in the aisle. It was horrible, but quite honestly, it was a relief to finally let go! And I wasn’t the only one, let me tell you. People were very sympathetic.
I couldn’t wait to get out of my jeans, so I went back to my seat and got a knee-length skirt out of my bag. Fortunately I’d packed it in my hand luggage in case I got too hot in my jeans. So under the cover of a blanket I changed into my skirt, and then I rejoined the queue for the toilet, which had grown by that time!
I was very desperate for my number two now, and really struggling to hold it in. I think it was something I had eaten for breakfast. The family I was staying with had given me a fancy farewell breakfast, and I don’t know if it was bad or if I was just not used to it, but my tummy started grumbling soon after I left their house.
Sorry to keep wittering on. This is turning out way longer than I expected. Long story short (again), I guess they hadn’t done a very good job of unblocking the plane’s septic system, because the toilets all got blocked up again. I went back to my seat and I tried holding on, but I just couldn’t, and I ended up filling my knickers with a whole lot of mushy poo. Yuck!! The smell was terrible!
I asked if I use the toilet just to clean up, but the flight attendant said no! But everyone around me was looking really ill because of the smell, and someone was sick into a bag. Fortunately we were almost at Heathrow by that point, and I just sort of squatted over my seat with my hands braced on the armrests until we landed.
I couldn’t wait to get off the plane so I could get to a toilet to clean up, but the first thing I did was call Denis, my boyfriend, because he was supposed to be meeting me and I didn’t know whether he was still waiting, or had given up and gone home, or what. It turned out he was still waiting for me, as he had been following the progress of my flight on the board. I told him about my accident, and that I would be a little while as I needed to clean myself up.
Now here’s the weird part: he started asking me all these questions about it! Like, how did it feel, and how much had come out, and what consistency was it, and how bad did it smell. He was fascinated by the story! And then he asked if he could see it!! I couldn’t believe my ears! I told him I didn’t realise how kinky he was, and he said he didn’t realise either until now!
I did love him a lot, and told him that under other circumstances I would let him see my messy knickers, but I still needed to get my bags, and I didn’t really want to hang around with the other passengers while still smelling so awful. But he was terribly persuasive, and I don’t know how he talked me into it, but I ended up hanging back about thirty yards away from the luggage conveyor, and then rushing forward to get my bags when I saw them.
So I met Denis with my knickers still full! I told him he owed me BIG TIME for this, and he said he would take me out to a fancy restaurant. In the car park, when nobody else was around, I lifted my skirt for him and he just got so excited about my messy knickers! He looked at them from all angles, and even prodded them with his finger, and sniffed his finger! I told him he was gross, but he just laughed.
Then he asked me to roll over the top of my skirt several times to make it shorter. Nobody was around, and I was quite amused by how excited he was, so I did it for him, only stopping when my knickers were starting to show. He thanked me and kissed me. Oh my gosh that was some kiss. Denis was a really good kisser, especially when I had done something to make him especially happy!
He asked me to keep my panties on until we got home, and maybe it was because of the kiss, but I said okay. I also promised not to unroll my skirt until we got home. So we drove out of the airport, but it got pretty gross and smelly in the car, and eventually I insisted that we stop at a petrol station so I could use the toilet to clean up.
Denis reluctantly agreed, but by this time we were on the motorway, so we stopped at the next services, and the car park was packed! We had to park quite a long way from the entrance, and that meant I would have to walk a long way past a lot of people in order to get to the toilet. Denis was very excited by this thought, but I was a little nervous.
I got out of the car, and Denis got out too. Then he asked me if I had finished my poo on the plane, or if there was more to come. I said I supposed there was probably more, and so then Denis asked me to ‘finish the job’! I told him not likely! But then he kissed me again, and nibbled my ear, which always made me like putty in his hands. And so I agreed to do it.
So I finished what I’d started, and oh my gosh, my knickers were SO full at that point! My pussy was even smushing around in it, which I was a little worried about, because I didn’t want to get an infection or anything. Plus, it was starting to sting! I was very anxious to get to the toilet, and I started to unroll my skirt, until Denis reminded me of my promise to keep it rolled up!
I was horrified! I told him I couldn’t believe he was going to hold me to that, but he just laughed and said of course he was! But my knickers were hanging so far below my skirt now that I couldn’t possibly go past all those people like that. So I sulkily got back in the car and tried not to sit down on my poo, which was not easy let me tell you.
We opened all the windows and turned the fan on, but it was still gross. Eventually we got home, and I was very nervous about my parents seeing my messy knickers, but fortunately neither of their cars were there. So all I had to worry about was the neighbours. But I couldn’t see anyone, so I made a dash for the front door (well, more of a fast waddle actually). I unlocked the door, and in I went.
But my parents had tricked me! Not only were they home after all, but so were my little brother and sister, my grandparents (both sets), my aunties and uncles, several of my cousins, and my nephew Russell! As I walked into the living room, they all jumped up from behind chairs and the sofa, and ran in from the kitchen, and suddenly I was surrounded by about twenty members of my family!
And with a skirt that barely covered my knickers at the front, and didn’t even come close to covering them at the back! They all yelled “Welcome back Grace!” but then some of them gasped in shock, and little Russell said “Look, she’s done grunties in her knickers, Mummy!”
I was just paralysed with horror! It was like my worst nightmare ever! Just then Denis came in, and apparently this surprise party was a surprise to him too (good thing, otherwise I’d have killed him!) Anyway he explained what had happened, and then of course everyone was very understanding, and I got a lot of sympathetic hugs. Then I was given a bunch of presents, because I’d had a birthday while I had been away, and my Mum showed me the cake she had made, and then of course I had to cut it. Then I had a piece, just to make her happy, but what I really wanted to do was a) unroll my skirt, and b) go and clean up! All of my younger male relatives, and a few of the older ones, were showing far too much interest in my knickers.
But while I ate, people kept asking me about Spain, and I found myself talking about my experiences at great length, and a strange thing happened. The longer I spent chatting with my relatives, the less self-conscious I felt about my exposure and my messy knickers. Eventually I spent the whole evening like that. Mum laid down a towel for me to sit on, and I just sat in my poo for hours on end.
At about eleven o’clock, when everyone else had left, including Denis, Mum suggested I go to bed, and by that time I was really tired and readily agreed. So I brushed my teeth, but I was too tired to deal with my poo, so I just crawled into bed and went to sleep.
The next morning my poo was getting a bit dry and crusty, but I was hungry, and decided to postpone my clean-up until after breakfast. I often wear just a bra and knickers to breakfast, but this time I threw a t-shirt on as well. Not that it did much good because it wasn’t long enough to cover my knickers, but it helped me feel a little less exposed.
My dad made a pointed remark while I was having my cereal, about me cleaning myself up, but Mum just shushed him. I felt embarrassed, but I was also feeling extremely horny! The previous day’s experience had given me a new appreciation for the delights of having a nice big load of poo in my knickers, and I wasn’t in a hurry for the experience to end.
So after breakfast I put on another skirt (a loose, flippy miniskirt that only just covered my messy panties), then I did my hair, put on some make-up, and went out shopping. It was a nerve-wracking and at times embarrassing experience, but it was also very exciting, and it set the pattern for many years to come.
Since then, I have never done number twos anywhere but in my knickers, and I frequently go out in miniskirts or even microskirts with my knickers very full. I’ve come close to being arrested a couple of times, but it’s been worth it!
Love,
Grace
Please email any feedback to meganeura@hotmail.com
Back to Index
No comments:
Post a Comment