Apologies in advance of what may turn into a long post.
Although I have wet and messed my pants on and off all my life, I have a sense of regret that I have never actually shared the experience with another guy.
Let me start by saying that my accidents throughout early childhood were far from being a daily occurrence, but more like once every two or three months. This was often enough to have my parents really frustrated, but not enough to seek out medical help, and it was simply put down to it being a phase that I was going through and that I would grow out of it. By the age of 12 though, I had realized for myself that it was something that I enjoyed, and it fact it became my association with sexual gratification.
Back in the mid 1980s, there wasn’t the kind of resource to satisfy a pee and poo pants fetish compared to today, so most of my desires were satisfied by my imagination of other boys having accidents in their pants. This is where the first of my regrets registers, because at the age of 14, I became aware of another boy in school who apparently pooed his pants, and not just a one-off occasion, but quite regularly. What was even more amazing was that we lived on the same street, though we weren’t actually friends. I do recall seeing him on many occasions and trying to see if there were any signs that he had pooed his pants, but never did see or smell anything. We went through the next few years without ever becoming friends or really crossing paths, so I never did find out for definite whether he was a pants messer, either by accident or deliberately.
Moving on a few years to my time in University, and this was the first time that I had my own private accommodation, and needless to say, being constantly horny, the number of times that I wet and messed my pants really escalated. Then, one night, a group of us went out for a few drink, including a friend that I had a serious crush on, though I wasn’t sure whether he was gay or not. As the drinks flowed, my crush voluntarily shared the fact that he had shit himself in the middle of a lecture the previous day, and that he didn’t actually clean up until he got home a few hours later. The image of him being in messy undies for several hours was a constant image in my mind, and is still just as fresh today as it was back then. Of course, the fact that he didn’t seemed bothered about the fact that he had publicly shit himself made me wonder whether this was not the first time it had happened, and whether indeed he quite enjoyed doing it. Sadly, being quite shy, I never asked any more questions, and another opportunity passed by.
Moving into my mid 20s, and suddenly there seemed to be more literature available, and the arrival of the internet, and I found myself being able to make contact with like minded people, and being able to talk, either over the phone or the internet, and eventually found what appeared to be a like minded person that lived quite locally. After chatting with him on several occasions, we agreed to meet up so that we could poo our pants together. I was so nervous about the meeting, but also feeling desperate for a poo, I thought this was my big chance. I set off to meet this guy and stood outside McDonalds where we had agreed to meet up, and I waited and waited, but he never turned up. In the end, I just went home, where I ended up messing my pants with a heavy heart and another missed opportunity. This particular experience set me back a little in chasing the opportunities to meet up, although the wetting and messing did continue in the privacy of my room.
By the age of 25 I had met my now husband, and with that, the number of wet and messy pants opportunities started to diminish, although the desires in my head rarely went away. I can’t remember how far into our relationship it was, but I did raise the subject of my fetish with partner, and we discussed it openly and honestly, and even though he confirmed that he didn’t share the same desires, he understood that this was part of me, and that I was ok to continue wetting and messing, but only when I had the house to myself and that everything was cleaned up before he returned home, and that’s the way it has been since.
There was one more missed opportunity in my 30s when I had been chatting with a fairly local guy who was more into messing nappies rather than underwear, but that was ok, because by now I had my own supply of nappies that I enjoyed wearing from time to time. We did eventually meet up, and became friends, and enjoyed having a drink and a chat together, though we didn’t ever have any dirty experiences together. Sadly, he moved away, and over time, we drifted apart and lost contact with each other.
So, that brings me to today, aged 44 and I still enjoy wetting and messing my pants, though I do it far less now than I used to do. In fact, my preference now is to see younger guys getting their underwear dirty, ever reminding me of those horny times of my own youth, which is why I am thankful for sites such as this. Naturally, I still hope that one day I will finally be able to share the experience of wet and messy underwear with a like minded (preferably younger) guy and don’t end up going through the rest of my life regretting what could have been if things had worked out a little differently.