Peed Pants Novels & Stories

How is he so fucking calm? “Relax Angel, we have hours yet. Besides, you can’t go in wet shorts. You will be uncomfortable.” He says as he takes out my pyjama pants and clean underwear. Or my granny pants, as he calls them. Don’t dis the granny pants they are every pregnant woman’s dream. Comfy and warm.

She hated wearing pants with passion. Running around naked was better than wearing pants but she was not going to do that today. Especially not in front of Miles. She brought her patchy pants out. The last time she wore her pants was when she had no other clothes to wear and that was five years ago. She made sure it never happened again. She wasn’t sure the pants would fit her anymore but it wouldn’t hurt to try. She entered her bathroom pulling her dress off and putting on her shirt first. She searched her stomach for the birthmark.

Here was hoping I didn’t get laid tonight. And there was a sentence I never thought I’d say. Can you imagine that, really? Oh, hi. Excuse me while I slipped sexily out of my organ-crushing panties. Yeah. Not in this life. Still, I pulled open my drawer and extracted a pair of nude Spanx. They were practically a machine, and I wondered if I could even get into them alone. It had been a while since I last wore them, so maybe my extra pounds went to my butt. Or my thighs. And if that was the case, this evil waistband wasn’t getting anywhere near my stomach.

With the form fitted waist and low neckline, it was definitely something she believed would impress Creighton. She pulled on a pair of pants the saleswoman had given her, not jeans but soft brushed cotton and very attractive. They were dark blue, almost suede in feel and as she zipped them up, she smiled. She liked them a lot, the cut hugged her tiny behind and long slender legs, making her feel very comfortable and very sexy. The pockets on the back had small pink and white flowers embroidered on them and were deep enough to hold her phone or ID.

Clothes are flung everywhere, and there's a pyramid of beer cans on the table. "This... is not going to work," I mutter, stepping into the living room. "What?" he shrugs. A bright pair of blue panties catches my eye. Using my pointer finger and thumb like tweezers, I tug them out of the gray chair and hold them up. They're so small I couldn't fit one leg in them. Is that the kind of girls Max is into?

She had a difficult time imagining herself wearing them in public without a bra, but saved that decision for another time and put them in her basket. One of Katy's priorities was to get herself out of jeans and into more revealing pants that would highlight her perfect butt. The stretch pants she bought did exactly that. She made a note that she would have to wear panties with them or else they would wedge between her ass and pussy and become far too revealing for public. She bought a few sexy bras and underwear to complete her shopping.

“What?” “I’ve never seen you wear those.” His baggy dark khaki pants appeared to be made out of shiny, lightweight parachute material, with cargo pockets everywhere and elastic bands at the knees and ankles. “Are they new?” He snorted. “Hell no, they’re old. I couldn’t face wearing jeans today, sweats are too casual and every other pair of pants is in the hamper, so this is what was left.” “I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to do laundry this week. I’m slacking on all sorts of wifely duties.”

Now he’s escalated. Three days ago, the pants disappeared completely. Since then, it’s been nothing but underwear like he’s made it his personal mission to test my sanity. Day one: white., Day two: black., Yesterday: gray. Today? Sky blue. And not just any pair these ones are… unfair. Fresh. Smooth. Tight in a way that should probably be illegal. Like they were designed to ruin lives. Mine, specifically. I try not to stare. I really do. But then he turns.