Charlie

Now that winter is here I’m reminded of one of the coolest (yet hottest) experiences I’ve had. A few years back, on one particularly snowy day I got a text from my friends that a sledding party was being organized. Always up for winter sports I opted in. I blew up my sled, filled my flask, got suited up and trudged the half mile or so to our favorite hill. My friends and I had the hill to ourselves and got to our fun straight away. It was like being a kid again. Completely carefree and awesome. Flying down that hill, sometimes two or three of us piled on the same sled. Absolutely a brilliant day.
It wasn’t long before we were joined by a group of dudes from our neighborhood that we knew only from seeing at the pub or around town. College aged and known for wild parties, for which the police were often called for noise violations. They brought a ton of beer while we had brought a ton of whisky. Initially we stayed within our respective groups but as the day wore on we ended up as one big rowdy bunch. I remember regretting that I hadn’t gotten to know them earlier because they were all so much fun.
At some point in the afternoon I realized that I needed to pee. Of course there were no bathrooms and nothing really to hide behind. So being a little drunk and having too much fun to care, I let little squirts into my pants, knowing that nothing would be visible through my black ski pants. No big deal, and the intermittent warmth it provided was certainly welcome. I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only one. It was around this time that I caught a slight, unmistakable odor. It was so slight in fact that I didn’t pay it much attention. As the snow picked up in strength and the sunlight started to dim the smell grew more intense and less intermittent. My attention frequently drawn to one of the dudes named Charlie. A slim kid with chestnut curls poking out the edges of his hat. Something wasn’t right. I’m not sure if it was the strange way he was walking, or his bright red cheeks, but I got the sense that he was the source of the assault on all of our noses. So I stuck close to him, making sure to sled at the same time so we could walk back up the hill together. The closer I got to him, the physical dread knowledge became very certain. He had definitely shat in his pants. There was no other explanation. Perhaps he had felt the same way I did, that no one would notice under all those layers of clothes. If that was the case, he was wrong.
There became this strange, embarrassing, unspoken thing between me and my friends, who I’m sure were just as wise as I was to Charlie’s situation. But no one said a thing. He acted as if everything were normal. The slightly bowlegged way he walked and his absolute stench gave it away. I remember taking a break with him at the top of the hill, just he and I, sharing a cigarette. Me still dribbling pee down my legs, him reeking of pure boy shit, just slightly drunk. I almost asked him out right if he had shit his pants, but I didn’t need to. We both knew what he’d done and in some strange drunken way it didn’t matter. We were all dudes. There were no bathrooms. What else was he going to do? It was my imagination that was getting the best of me though. Here we were idly chatting, and all I could think of was the state of his underwear. We’d been sledding for at least an hour since I’d noticed the smell. For sure his ass was a complete muddy disaster. That thought and moment alone, atop the hill with him will never leave me, the stuff of wanking fantasy probably for the rest of my life.
The sun in steady decline and the snow and wind raging, all of us wet and tired the day came to an end. My friends and I invited our new friends for a pint as we were getting ready to leave. Everyone was up for it and we decided on our favorite pub. Everyone except Charlie. Without saying anything he gave a quick wave good bye and started his walk home. I wanted nothing more than to follow him. I didn’t.
On our way to the pub laughing broke out among the group of guys. “Again! Charlie’s shit his pants again! Thats the last time we bring him sledding!” We all laughed nervously. I let one last squirt into my pants.

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Responses

  1. Hey if he enjoys it why not.It does feel so good.If everyone tried it at least once there would be a lot more panty poopers having great fun.

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