A Deliberate Accident

Let me begin by saying that I don’t make a habit of wetting myself, certainly not deliberately as I did last Sunday. Like most women I’ve had the occasional major accident (and since having children plenty of experience of those embarrassing little leaks Tena lady can be a saviour at times!). However, apart from a couple of drunken accidents at University when I wet myself on the way back to halls anything more than damp knickers has been rare, though not unheard of, as I have occasionally left it rather late and wet my knickers sat on the loo when I couldn’t get them down in time.However, back to last Sunday. My husband and I had gone to the local pub for a snack and drink prior to going for a walk on the moors above the village. I did drink a couple of pints of lager and took the precaution of using the loo before we left. We would only be an hour anyway and I ought to have been fine.Our stroll took us up to a stream and waterfall with views across the valley where we would usually sit for a bit before making our way back. On this occasion my husband had taken his new camera with him and decided to spend ages setting up a tripod and taking pictures. Whether it was the lager or the sound of rushing water I don’t know, but I began to feel the need for a toilet. I continued to sit in the sunshine reading my book while hubby played with his new toy until I looked at my watch and realized that we had been out almost two hours. Not only that, but when I stood up I realized that I now needed the loo rather badly.I told hubby I needed a wee and he just said to go in the bushes. There was some cover but although I could have gone into the bracken there were other people about and it would have been obvious what I was doing. Husband insisted he needed another few shots so I decided the best course was to head home on my own – its only about 20 minutes – and hope I could find somewhere to go on the way. I knew some possible spots but only if no–one was about.A quick but careful walk took me down the hill towards a wall and I was about to squat down beside it when I realized people were coming up the path towards the stile with others further behind them. There was nothing for it but to keep going. I reached the stile, like a step–ladder each side of the wall, and began to climb over. As I put my leg over the top it happened – a spurt of wee escaped then another as I climbed down the other side. It took me completely by surprise for I must have been more desperate than I thought.I stopped and squeezed my legs together, managing to regain control but realizing that the gusset of my cotton knickers was soaked though fortunately my summer skirt was still dry. But what to do now? With people on the path ahead of me I didn’t want to walk on in case I had a complete accident in front of them. It was embarrassing enough knowing that I’d wet myself but at least so far it was only me that knew. Looking round I saw a rock outcrop a few metres off the path and went to sit on it while I composed myself and let the other pass by while I sat, skirt pulled back, admiring the scenery and praying they would not stop and talk.Fortunately they went on their way and I sat there with my mind racing. I didn’t think I would make it home without a major accident and being seen in the village with a wet skirt would be just too embarrassing. Then a thought struck me – my knickers were already wet and there was reasonable privacy if I faced away from the path. So why not get it over with and just do it in my pants where I sat. My skirt would stay dry and only I would know what I’d done.With that I moved my bum to the edge of the rock, made sure my skirt was clear and just let go. A hot flood poured into my knickers, leaving a wet trail down the rock and a puddle beneath my feet. I could feel my face flush with embarrassment at what I was doing. Here I was, a normal 44 year old woman and I had just deliberately and totally wet my knickers in public. But oh the relief and the feeling of hot wee flooding my pants was not at all unpleasant. I also felt incredibly naughty doing it like this.I sat there for a couple of minutes, savouring the relief and wondering what to do next, squeezing my legs together to wring some of the wetness from my pants. Looking round to check no one was about I put my hand up my skirt and squeezed the last drops from my soggy gusset. The result was electric and I came immediately! I sat there shaking from a mix of excitement and horror for several minutes until the sound of a dog barking brought me back to reality.I looked round just as my husband climbed over the stile. Quickly I got up and went over to meet him, hoping that I did not look too flushed and that my ‘wet knickers walk’ did not give me away. As we walked he asked whether I had been able to sort myself out. I mumbled that I couldn’t find any cover but that I was alright now. My voice must have given me away because he smiled at me and said, “You silly girl, you’ve wet yourself haven’t you?” I nodded, flushing red again as he glanced round and then slipped his hand up my skirt and fondled by wet bum. I almost came again on the spot as I brushed my hand over the huge erection in his trousers.Let’s just say that it was a good job we had the house to ourselves when we got home!
By: Poseidon