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I stepped into the boy's bathroom, and was surprised to see Roy Briggs waving a pair of what appeared to be boys briefs under the hand drier.  They looked damp, and the bathroom smelled more like pee than usual.  "What the hell?"  I thought.

"Oh, they're not mine," stammered Roy, grinning sheepishly.  "Accident."  He indicated one of the stalls with a flick of the head.  "I'm helping him out."

I could see tennis shoes under the door; they looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place them.  "Who?" I asked.  

"I promised," replied Roy.  "Sorry."

"No big deal."  I entered another stall, took care of business, and was washing my hands, when Roy reached the now dry briefs over the stall door.  

"Here you go."  The briefs disappeared inside the stall, and the tennis shoes lifted successively as whoever slipped them on.  Next a pair of jeans appeared and followed the briefs over the shoes.  Roy looked at me and cocked his head again.  It was time for me to leave, so I did.  Interesting, I thought.  Accidents happen, but I wonder who it was?  It's not every day a boy in high school wets his pants.

After class I met up with my best friend Johnny, outside the south entrance.  It was a fine day for walking home, and I always looked forward to Johnny's company.  Johnny's a nice guy, smart, a little shy, sometimes a little weird, but a good guy.  We met our freshman year.  Johnny had attended North Jr. High, while I came from Fillmore.  We became instant friends.

As we walked, I noticed Johnny pulling at himself like he had an itch.  I was about to ask him what's up, when I recognized the tennis shoes I had seen in the boy's room stall.  Johnny?  Had my friend Johnny wet his pants?  Too much. 

When we turned right to cross Park Street, t caught a whiff of stale pee.  It had to be Johnny.  Should I say something?  It was awkward, but I had to know.  "Uh, Johnny, did anything happen today?  I mean, did something happen to you?  You seem a little....

"Do not tell anyone!  Please Morty, don't tell anyone!

"Tell what?"

" I wet my pants."

"You wet your pants!" I replied, surprised.

"Shhhhish!  I wet my pants; that's all.  It happens.  No big deal."

I let the subject drop, and for a block or so we walked along in silence.  Then, "Have you ever had a hard on, and couldn't pee?"

"Sure!  Every time I'm with Angela.  Is that what happened?"

"Well, coming out of geometry, some fool panted Norma Miller right in front of me.  You know what she looks like.  And there she was, pants down and no panties."

"Going commando!  Cool!"

"Yeah.  My eyes like to have popped out.  I got hard as a rock.  So much for stopping by the boy's room.  I went on to history, but couldn't get Norma out of my mind.  I already had to pee, and my hard made it worse, and my hard wouldn't let me go."

"So, how come you wet your pants?"

"About half way through history class, I came in my pants."

"No shit!"

"I couldn't help it.  I creamed all over myself."

"Been there, done that.  Go on."

" It was nice to feel myself getting soft again, but the softer I got, the more I had to pee.  I felt something squirt into my underpants, and thought I was coming again, but it was pee."

"How bad?"

"Just wet undies, but then it happened two more times, and I could see a dark stain in my crotch, and I felt wet seeping under my bottom.  I ran out as fast as I could.  I almost made it to the boy's room before I squirted again.  This time I couldn't stop, and by the time I got into a stall and got my pants down, it was running down my legs.  I couldn't get my undies down, so I just sat there and wet through them."

"Shit, man; what did you do?"

"In a few minutes, Roy came in.  Miss Friley had sent him to check on me.  Thankfully, he was willing to dry my jeans and undies for me.  You know the rest."

"Wow!"  

"Remember, you can't tell anyone!"

"Even Norma?"

"Especially Norma!"

"No problemo.  I know that I wet my pants last Halloween."

"No!"

"The police caught us egging cars, and chased us into the woods.  I peed all the way.  Soaked my pants and filled my shoes."

Johnny stifled a giggle, and said, "That's funny."

I put my arm around his shoulders and replied, "Johnny, wetting your pants is only funny, when someone else does it."

We both laughed.  In the coming weeks, we discovered we had other wet stories to share, and we even....But that's for another post.

Be proud!  Be wet!  Be happy!

 

 

 

 

 

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