This one turned out to be painful. I don’t really know how, but I ended up with a rash on my upper i
This one turned out to be painful. I don’t really know how, but I ended up with a rash on my upper inner leg so bad that its scarred and isn’t healing too well even a week after. I don’t find these jeans particularly comfortable for every day use so decided to use them for a walk. I find lighter coloured clothes more exciting as they hide nothing, but I did have something to tie around my waist afterwards thankfully. Underneath, black briefs and rolled up tights to secure the legbands. It turned out to be quite a hot day so I’d regretted not wearing shorts but was utterly desperate before leaving and rushed the decision. This was taken shortly after I was walking down a parkland path with a witness behind me; a young mother wheeling along her infant in a buggy. I’d barely been walking around for five minutes after arriving, usually preferring to wonder about the park and discreetly let a wave take hold a few times before fighting it back with crossed legs, but the last wave of urgency at the house before was pretty ominous and I started to loose it a little before arriving.I’d noticed the woman with the buggy approaching in the distance and couldn’t really make her out very well but sat on a bench for a minute or so letting the pressure build. As she approached I glanced over briefly while standing and fiddling with my phone; she appeared to be in her early thirties perhaps, and she had a fantastic figure with dark hair and was wearing black ¾ leggings. So I set off ahead of her. The urgency was now building to the point where I’d usually be crossing my legs and starting to resist and I wasn’t able to fart at all to release pressure. It felt like one huge mass that was only moving in one direction. Trying to walk normally, I felt a slight pain and couldn’t do anything but push, like a real accident. It was so mushy and started flowing noisily. It felt very warm as it started to spread out. She was approaching closely and I looked back at her, probably with a worried expression as my heart was accelerating and I felt back quickly as the main surge began and everything started speeding up. She was looking at me. I had to come to a halt and couldn’t block her path so I side stepped onto the grass and slowly stopped walking while bending over a little. There was no stopping it mid way or anything this time. It was crampy and I had to let it all go. The smell was now hitting and it was horrible. As I pushed its consistency got slightly firmer, like there was a dam between two sides of mush and when the dam broke, letting out the remainder of the looser poop, it was so obviously noisy. All the gas and pressure was trapped behind the dam. I can’t imagine what she must have thought; it happened just before she passed me. As soon as I’d made that terrible noise I broke into a quick stride out onto the grass towards the cricket pitch, away from her as quickly as I could, feeling back. And then I noticed I was weeing and had to give everything I had to stop it, forcing me to cross my legs. I looked back quickly. She was looking back at me and she had such a lovely, friendly face. It was a strangely sobering moment. As our gaze locked, her expression was clearly sympathetic, and then immediately I felt bad. Undeserved sympathy.After the cricket pitch detour I headed back to the woods to get a photo and looked down at my legs as I did. God it was obvious. The weeing did the worst of the visual damage as I hadn’t regained control quickly enough. There were a few other people around so I had to do my best to avoid them. The smell was seriously bad now, even outside, maybe as there was no wind. I took a few pictures in an enclosed area I’ve visited a few times before - the same as red leggings day - and was already starting to notice something chafing on my inner leg. I tried to adjust the tights underneath to relieve it with my jeans still up but it just made the stains worse so I took them down a little. I think it was something on the inside of the jeans. All the following walking, which had to be done with my last resort cardigan tied around my waist just made it worse and worse. I had to get clean and put some cream on asap. It was a very painful clean up.I don’t know if I’m getting worse at resisting pooping this year but I’m starting to have trouble fighting things back as well as I used to. It was still three clear days without going but the struggle the previous night nearly caused me to abort and just go normally. I was more in the mood for it than last time and I didn’t mind being seen as much, especially by someone perhaps a little older and wiser than me, apart from feeling bad for commanding undeserved sympathy. It was fun, bar the rash and the resulting scar that won’t bloody heal properly! Such an awkward place for a plaster.Happy pooping :) -- source link
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