A little Story [Archive] - ForumsHQ
Posted: Tue Sep 17, 2002 11:24 am
Just a little story Ernie from EHOWA (http://www.ehowa.com)sent me so enjoy!
A friend of mine was visiting for a couple of days and on his last night we
decided to go to Dave and Busters, the arcade for adults. It is a good
place to get hammered and play video games. Nothing is more fun for
a grown up of the nintendo generation. We drank somewhere between six and
seven pitchers of beer between the two of us while blowing a couple of
hundred on the great big videogames. Normally this wouldn't have been a
problem but I didn't eat all that much and the beer was some microbrew.
I still have no idea how we made it home but I woke up to Mike shaking me
and saying that we had an hour to get him to the airport. I lived about 45
minutes away and keep in mind this was pre 911 so we could still make
it. I threw on some pants a somewhat clean shirt and a flannel, and rushed
out the door.
About half way to the airport my stomache began to cringe a bit but we
couldn't stop because I had to get mike to the airport. So as I am
driving 90 weaving in and out of trafic, smoking a cigarette, dooing the
poopie dance, and trying not to let Mike know that I am about to shit
myself. We finally get to the airport. Thank God it was a light travel
weekend and I actually found a parking space that was somewhat close to the
elevators.
Mike is taking his sweet ass time because he has no idea the pain I am in
from what felt like the alien trying to get out through my ass. With my
first step towards the elevators a little fart creeps out and somewhat
releived the pressure that had built up. But with the next step
another. The next step was another, and another and another. After about
ten steps of a walking fart I almost felt relieved because it was just gas
and then... OOOps. It wasn't... Hold that in. I was about two or
three minutes from the bathroom... I can make it.
We get to the elevator and from across the garage some old farts carrying
enough luggage for an african safari call out, "Hold the elevator
please!!!" Mike is a nice guy so he stands there holding the door open for
them. Meanwhile I standing there trying my hardest not to look too
abnormal. In all honesty I must have looked like a heroin adict going
through withdraw. I was sweating like crazy and I was squeezing my
sphincter shut with every ounce of strength I had and I am backing into the
corner just for that extra support.
I start to think of ways I can get out of this horid situation. What if I
fake a heart attack. Then I could crap myself and noone would care. Wait
I am only 24. That won't work. What about a seisure. No I can't act that
good.
The old farts finally get to the elevator, start loading in their 7 pieces
of luggage andI let out the biggest fart I have ever let out in my
live. To my relief it was mostly gass. I let out a sigh of relief and all
three of them look at me like I had just killed Mother Terisa right there
in front of them. Mike laughs and the old guy starts loading everything
into the elevator. I am in the back corner of the elevator feeling fine
when my stomache wrenches again. This was no regular bout of
indigestion. It felt like someone had just lit a M-80 off in my lower
intestines. I think that last fart just gave the beer shits a running
start at my jeans.
I know I am not going to make it. I bolt. I manage to say "see ya later
Mike" as I climb over all the luggage in the elevaor and start running for
my truck. I have no I dea why I was running for my truck but for some
reason if I was going to shit myself I wanted to be close to a get away
car. With every step of my full sprint the walking fart from before comes
back but now I am running and it isn't all gass. I get next to my truck
and nothing is stopping the four pitchers of syrupie beer shits now. I
manage to get my belt off and my pants down most of the way, and it starts.
I have a friend that says that a good shit is better than sex. And until
that moment I never understood. This was on the level of an orgasm. The
difference between so much pain and the relief was incredible. I have to
agree with him. This felt so GOOD!!!
There is just one problem I didn't ever go canping as a kid where there
wasn't a bathroom relatively close and I have never "hovered" when taking a
dump. So this was my first experience at taking a crap while standing up.
Let me give you some advice. Take a reasonably wide stance. I now know
this because Although I did get my pants off as to not soil them too much
while they were on... I did manage to completely cover the back of the legs
of my jeans my shoes and somehow one of my socks with greasy shit, and now
I am standing in the middle of about a three foot puddle in the middle
of an airport parking girage covered in shit.
I managed to get my keys out of my pocket, unlock my door and sit on the
edge of my door sill. I had no TP and everything from the waist down is
covered in shit. The jeans are done, my wallet drenched and even though I
thought about it I didn't want to smoke any of those cigarettes. So I take
off my shoes and prop my feet against the inside of my door. I didn't even
hesitate to think about saving the shoes. Plop into the puddle. I took
off my socks and tried to wipe somewhat with the dirty one, it helped a
little bit but that made more mess than it cleaned so I saved the other
one. I took off my jeans and left them too.
Now I had only one delima. I have no pants no underwear and I still have
to pay for the parking to get out of here. I picked back up my jeans to
try and get my wallet but it was a gonner. I pulled out my credit cards
and my ID, they wiped off ok and threw them in the floor boards. But
everything else had been soaking for a while, anything that could soak up
the liquid shit, did. It all stank. I pulled out a twenty for parking and
left the rest.
Standing on my shoes in the middle of my newly created lake I took off my
flannel an in conjunction with my other sock made the crudest adult diaper
known to man. At least I was covered somewhat. As I am giving myself a pat
on the back for handeling this delima somewhat, someone yells "What the
fuck?!?" I look behind me and a couple of rows of cars behind me is a golf
cart with a security guard standing there with the most perplexed look on
his face.
I jump into my truck and rip out of my space, and take off. But you know
how parking girages are. It was a freaking maze. I start following the
signs to go to the exit and it takes me right by my old spot. The security
guard is standing there pointing at my piece of art and screaming into the
radio. I got out of the girage but now for the parking toll booth.
Thank God that airport parking atendants hate their life. She never looked
at me. My toll was a couple of bucks. I hand her the soiled twenty, the
gate goes up, "Keep the change" and I take off. I felt that she should get
a tip for handeling shit laden money.
For the first time in my life I didn't speed I didn't cut anyone off I
drove with the cruise control at 50 because I didn't want to get pulled
over and have to explain this to some cop who would love a great story to
tell the guys back at the station house.
I finally got home went straight to the bathroom pealed off my adult diaper
put it in the trash and took a shower. And amazingly enough 50 bucks worth
of that new car smell realy dose work.
JP
A friend of mine was visiting for a couple of days and on his last night we
decided to go to Dave and Busters, the arcade for adults. It is a good
place to get hammered and play video games. Nothing is more fun for
a grown up of the nintendo generation. We drank somewhere between six and
seven pitchers of beer between the two of us while blowing a couple of
hundred on the great big videogames. Normally this wouldn't have been a
problem but I didn't eat all that much and the beer was some microbrew.
I still have no idea how we made it home but I woke up to Mike shaking me
and saying that we had an hour to get him to the airport. I lived about 45
minutes away and keep in mind this was pre 911 so we could still make
it. I threw on some pants a somewhat clean shirt and a flannel, and rushed
out the door.
About half way to the airport my stomache began to cringe a bit but we
couldn't stop because I had to get mike to the airport. So as I am
driving 90 weaving in and out of trafic, smoking a cigarette, dooing the
poopie dance, and trying not to let Mike know that I am about to shit
myself. We finally get to the airport. Thank God it was a light travel
weekend and I actually found a parking space that was somewhat close to the
elevators.
Mike is taking his sweet ass time because he has no idea the pain I am in
from what felt like the alien trying to get out through my ass. With my
first step towards the elevators a little fart creeps out and somewhat
releived the pressure that had built up. But with the next step
another. The next step was another, and another and another. After about
ten steps of a walking fart I almost felt relieved because it was just gas
and then... OOOps. It wasn't... Hold that in. I was about two or
three minutes from the bathroom... I can make it.
We get to the elevator and from across the garage some old farts carrying
enough luggage for an african safari call out, "Hold the elevator
please!!!" Mike is a nice guy so he stands there holding the door open for
them. Meanwhile I standing there trying my hardest not to look too
abnormal. In all honesty I must have looked like a heroin adict going
through withdraw. I was sweating like crazy and I was squeezing my
sphincter shut with every ounce of strength I had and I am backing into the
corner just for that extra support.
I start to think of ways I can get out of this horid situation. What if I
fake a heart attack. Then I could crap myself and noone would care. Wait
I am only 24. That won't work. What about a seisure. No I can't act that
good.
The old farts finally get to the elevator, start loading in their 7 pieces
of luggage andI let out the biggest fart I have ever let out in my
live. To my relief it was mostly gass. I let out a sigh of relief and all
three of them look at me like I had just killed Mother Terisa right there
in front of them. Mike laughs and the old guy starts loading everything
into the elevator. I am in the back corner of the elevator feeling fine
when my stomache wrenches again. This was no regular bout of
indigestion. It felt like someone had just lit a M-80 off in my lower
intestines. I think that last fart just gave the beer shits a running
start at my jeans.
I know I am not going to make it. I bolt. I manage to say "see ya later
Mike" as I climb over all the luggage in the elevaor and start running for
my truck. I have no I dea why I was running for my truck but for some
reason if I was going to shit myself I wanted to be close to a get away
car. With every step of my full sprint the walking fart from before comes
back but now I am running and it isn't all gass. I get next to my truck
and nothing is stopping the four pitchers of syrupie beer shits now. I
manage to get my belt off and my pants down most of the way, and it starts.
I have a friend that says that a good shit is better than sex. And until
that moment I never understood. This was on the level of an orgasm. The
difference between so much pain and the relief was incredible. I have to
agree with him. This felt so GOOD!!!
There is just one problem I didn't ever go canping as a kid where there
wasn't a bathroom relatively close and I have never "hovered" when taking a
dump. So this was my first experience at taking a crap while standing up.
Let me give you some advice. Take a reasonably wide stance. I now know
this because Although I did get my pants off as to not soil them too much
while they were on... I did manage to completely cover the back of the legs
of my jeans my shoes and somehow one of my socks with greasy shit, and now
I am standing in the middle of about a three foot puddle in the middle
of an airport parking girage covered in shit.
I managed to get my keys out of my pocket, unlock my door and sit on the
edge of my door sill. I had no TP and everything from the waist down is
covered in shit. The jeans are done, my wallet drenched and even though I
thought about it I didn't want to smoke any of those cigarettes. So I take
off my shoes and prop my feet against the inside of my door. I didn't even
hesitate to think about saving the shoes. Plop into the puddle. I took
off my socks and tried to wipe somewhat with the dirty one, it helped a
little bit but that made more mess than it cleaned so I saved the other
one. I took off my jeans and left them too.
Now I had only one delima. I have no pants no underwear and I still have
to pay for the parking to get out of here. I picked back up my jeans to
try and get my wallet but it was a gonner. I pulled out my credit cards
and my ID, they wiped off ok and threw them in the floor boards. But
everything else had been soaking for a while, anything that could soak up
the liquid shit, did. It all stank. I pulled out a twenty for parking and
left the rest.
Standing on my shoes in the middle of my newly created lake I took off my
flannel an in conjunction with my other sock made the crudest adult diaper
known to man. At least I was covered somewhat. As I am giving myself a pat
on the back for handeling this delima somewhat, someone yells "What the
fuck?!?" I look behind me and a couple of rows of cars behind me is a golf
cart with a security guard standing there with the most perplexed look on
his face.
I jump into my truck and rip out of my space, and take off. But you know
how parking girages are. It was a freaking maze. I start following the
signs to go to the exit and it takes me right by my old spot. The security
guard is standing there pointing at my piece of art and screaming into the
radio. I got out of the girage but now for the parking toll booth.
Thank God that airport parking atendants hate their life. She never looked
at me. My toll was a couple of bucks. I hand her the soiled twenty, the
gate goes up, "Keep the change" and I take off. I felt that she should get
a tip for handeling shit laden money.
For the first time in my life I didn't speed I didn't cut anyone off I
drove with the cruise control at 50 because I didn't want to get pulled
over and have to explain this to some cop who would love a great story to
tell the guys back at the station house.
I finally got home went straight to the bathroom pealed off my adult diaper
put it in the trash and took a shower. And amazingly enough 50 bucks worth
of that new car smell realy dose work.
JP