Posted by Terry on December 03, 1998 at 21:32
Thanks for the warm welcome, all of you who have gotten back to me in the 24 hours or so since I posted my intro. The emphasis on our common interest, transcending differences in sexual orientation, is what I hoped it would be. I've passed a number of hours happily perusing the messages on this board, massaging a hard dick in my jeans, and look forward to a more open involvement.
One of the things that have struck me during the last two or three years of netsurfing in pursuit of the wettest beaches and highest waves, as if were, is that many of the anecdotes are naturally in the first person, and that once you begin reading a first-person account of pants wetting, it's easy to identify with the narrator and forget the gender. The one time that I actually came in my pants at work, in fact, was a day I made the mistake of going to Patches' Place during my lunch hour. I had started visiting her site while my partner and I were still living in Kansas, but this little episode occurred after we moved to San Francisco. I had been reading a series of journal entries with which most of you are probably quite familiar, and I was reading the one in which the female narrator starts to wet her tan shorts while walking her dog when I realized I was going over the edge. I was wearing grey 501s to work that day, with heavy cotton briefs and a heavy shirt tucked in, and my dick was jutting up to the left behind my pocket lining. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized that jism would probably not soak through, but still I was startled when I felt the familiar churning down below. I stood up abruptly, thinking I might calm myself, but it was too late. I shot my wad leaning against my desk with both hands, trying to be quiet. Afterwards, when I got my breath back, I sauntered off to the john and wiped the goo out with toilet paper before settling down to the afternoon's work. Nothing at all soaked through my jeans. Just goes to show you, though, that when we're excited about people pissing their pants, anatomical details won't get in the way of a good orgasm.
All of my messages to boards like this one are posted from home, of course. The next time I get some computer time -- which is harder than getting mirror time in this household -- I'll try to slake Marni's thirst for some bar and party stories. Slaking may be too much to hope for, though, if she's as nearly insatiable as I am.
Email: terry@wetjeans.com