Exercise is great for long life and well-being. Everyone at some point favors one type of exercise or another. I have settled in to taking long secluded walks. Since a teen, I have loved to pee in my jeans and swim fully clothed. To me it’s a simple pleasure, to others it may sound a little weird. As a building contractor working with high profile clients, it’s the biggest secret that I keep. Today I had my afternoon off. Since the whether was nice and warm, I thought that it was a nice day to take long wet walk threw the wetlands near my home. It is a large secluded nature area where waist deep creeks crisscross Amtrack’s railroad easement. Driving home, I quickly sipped down 32 oz of bottled water kept stored behind the truck’s seat. Half way to my destination I refilled my water bottle, and downed another 15 oz. Now, over hydrated, I know that I will be bursting to pee at least five to six times in the next 3 hours. I was dressed in construction work clothes, blue jeans and a T shirt. Parking across from my destination I exchanged my work boots for rubber hiking boots. It was midday and the sun became blistering hot. Heading out into the wilderness, I put on my old corduroy jacket.
Entering the wetlands, all was silent except for an occasional Mallard. Reaching the railroad tracks, my bladder was bursting. My goal is always the same; To try and hold my pee back until reaching the creek (for some reason I never make it). Walking across the secluded landscape, my bladder builds up pressure to the bursting point. A wave of pee desperation totally overcomes me. To reduce some of the building pressure I let go a little pee spurt. I look down to see a shinny spreading wet spot on my jeans. I know now there is no going back. I began letting go timed little pee spurts. Looking down, each little spurt creates a larger wet shinny spot on the surface of my jeans. With each pee spurt, the head of my shaft burns more and more to let it all go. Slowly, warm wet pee begins to saturate my underwear. Looking down, pee began to slowly seep down my inner crotch. In sight of the first creek my heart starts to pound. I now was burning to pee so much It was hard to walk straight. Suddenly, time finally ran out and I could hold back no longer. Euphorically I let it all go, flooding my underwear.
My steady stream of warm wet pee saturated my jeans crotch, and quickly spread to my outer thighs. Temporarily relieved from a bursting bladder, and thrilled with my release, I continued my walk on toward the creek. My jeans were now almost completely saturated, as the warm wetness of my jeans flapped against my legs. Reaching the creek, I stepped off the shoreline. My foot instantly sank in the soft silty mud. Wading in deeper, cool refreshing creek water slowly crept up past my knees and finally submerged my pee soaked crotch. I could feel the cool creek’s current as it passed threw my jeans. Creek water reached my waist as I waded 1/4 of a mile toward an old iron drainage control dam. Built by the railroad 50 years ago, it’s adjacent to Amtrack’s bridge that crosses over the creek. As I neared the old iron dam, the creek deepens to a small pond around 6′ deep and 30′ wide. Slowly my jacket finally becomes submerged. The last 50′ to the dam was a swim. Swimming fully clothed, my jeans and jacket gingerly flapped against my skin. Reaching the dam, I sat on the water spillway, where a 4” deep stream of water pushed threw the crotch of my jeans as it passed over. The coolness of the passing water feels great. It’s a great place to return phone calls, on my waterproof phone. What is next I find entertaining. Amtrack trains pass every 30 minutes or so. It’s so much fun to watch the shocked and confused faces of passengers staring me down as the train rumbles by. I always wave back smiling. Fully refreshed, and saturated with creek water from head to foot, I made my way back up to the shoreline and on to the railroad tracks. As pee pressure begins to again build, I continued walking along the railroad tracks for a mile or so to the next creek crossing. My creek soaked jacket and clothing kept me cool in the hot September sun. I think to myself, will I make it to the next creek before wetting myself; hmm… probably not. Along the way, I stop where the soft silty mud gets deep. Stepping into the muck, I instantly sink to my waist. Resting there, with mud to my waist, I let go another full bladder. Warm wetness completely surrounds me, from my waist down to my thighs. Afterward, I shake the mud off in the creek’s clear current. There are a total three train creek crossings that I visit. When it’s all done I have walked a very refreshing 3 miles, expelled around 46 oz of warm wet pee, and relished acting naughty and bad for no less than 3 hours.