My new fridge-freezer was being delivered today between 7am and 2pm. I had convinced myself that I would be the first drop off and so when I woke up this morning I got up and pulled on yesterday’s underpants and tan corduroy trousers that were dis-guarded by the side of the bed. I decided that after the fridge-freezer had been delivered and installed I could shower, shave, use the bathroom, and dress for the day without any interruptions.
By 7.30am I had my first cup of coffee and a slice of toast. By this time there was no telephone call from the delivery men to say that they were on their way.
By 8.30am I had my second cup of coffee. Still no telephone call.
Just after 10am I got a call to say that they were about 30 minutes away and that they would contact me when they arrived in the car park.
I thought I just had enough time to quickly sit on the toilet and relieve myself because I had been farting and felt a bit uncomfortable. I was on my way to the bathroom for a quick poop when the doorbell rang. It was my neighbour dropping in for a chat and with him, the dreaded Rolo. Rolo is a dog by the way although it looks more like a baby elephant but without the trunk. The one good thing about Rolo is that he cannot jump up and pin you against the wall like some dogs. He’s too round to jump. Although his front legs do leave the ground sometimes when he tries to jump he usually only clears the ground by a few inches which is a good thing really as it prevents serious injury to your feet and toes! So, with Rolo slurping [a bit too loudly for my liking] from a bowl of water, we both have a cup of tea and several biscuits. The baby elephant demolishes the remainder of the packet of biscuits in less time than it takes to blink. To my relief the phone rings. I use the noise from the ringing phone and the cacophony coming from the startled elephant to break wind. I’m now squeezing my bum cheeks together but I think I can just hold it in for another few minutes.
Rolo leaves and carries on taking his master for a walk to the park. I however, am left standing in the kitchen talking on the phone to the guys who are seconds away from delivering my new fridge-freezer. My knees are pressed together, my free hand is clamped to the seat of my trousers, I’m breaking wind while talking on the phone, I can feel my bum hole being forced open, a turd pushing slowly out of my ass, filling my underpants and pushing them back against the seat of my trousers as another turd propels itself into my underpants at half the speed of light and then my sphincter snaps shut as I let go an involuntary spurt of warm urine into my pants.
A few minutes later I am walking awkwardly to the car park, a firm load of shit nesting inside my sagging underpants with my right hand clamped to the seat of my corduroy trousers to meet two delivery guys. They suspect nothing, despite the wet stain that has begun to soak through and show on the front of my trousers just to the left of my flies.
After they leave, I go into the bathroom. I stand by the wash basin fumbling desperately with the button on my waistband while trying to halt the now steady flow of warm pee. Finally, my underpants reach saturation point, my hot piss breaks through them and rivers of warm pee cascade down the inside of my trouser legs which not only turn the corduroy a darker shade of tan but also make it cling to my legs and already a bulge is beginning to form in the front of my trousers as I become aroused.
I manage to unbutton my trousers and pull them down to my knees but it’s too late. All that I can do is stand there and continue wetting my underpants until the warm streams running down my legs slow to a trickle. I shuffle to the toilet and easily eject the two solid logs from my soaking wet underpants. I get undressed. My trousers, underwear and socks look as if they have been through a wash cycle they are so wet. I turn the shower onto full power and when I’ve finished showering myself I direct the jet at my clothes by way of a pre-wash!
I get dressed and pull on my favourite pair of black Nike trackies. I decide not to wear any underpants as I want to enjoy the sensation of freedom and feel my twitching erection tingle every time the exposed head of my cock rubs against the thin soft material most of all I want to feel myself, play with myself, tease my swollen dick, squeeze my balls, massage the bulge in my trackies, throw myself face down onto my tummy on the bed, hump my trackies, fantasise that I’m getting a good spanking and that the thin material is stretched as tight as a drum skin across my backside. I want to masturbate and masturbate and wank till I explode inside them. I’m just pulling on my t-shirt when the doorbell rings. I ignore it. It rings. It rings again and again….and again. I adjust myself and go to answer it………
To be continued…….