herrokitty 495 Posted November 28, 2019 Popular Post Share Posted November 28, 2019 So I used to date someone who worked in schools and through her and her friends I would hear all sorts of stories relating to desperation in schools. I had written stories very loosely based on people and situations told to me back then but never posted it anywhere, so I thought I'd post them today. These are totally fictional, of course! Teacher bladder is a real thing. I experienced it myself, regularly holding it from 6:30 AM to after school was dismissed when I was a teacher. I was eventually hired for a job for my state’s department of education licensing new teachers, though, after five years of teaching experience (I was 27 when I started the new job). Part of my job was observing new teachers and giving feedback. I took my job seriously, but there was one thing I didn’t realize would happen. I saw a lot of desperate young ladies who were inexperienced in their teacher bladder. I’m ashamed to admit, but it’s always been a turn on for me, and I couldn’t help but secretly enjoy that part of the job. Over the course of a decade, in fact, I witnessed at least a dozen accidents. The first teacher I witnessed an accident with I almost missed. Her name was Ms. Thompson and she was a tall and curvy blonde woman. On this day, she had on a black dress that was a button-up. It went down to her knees and didn’t have sleeves but had a conservative neckline - an appropriate and common dress for teachers. (There’s such similarity in teacher clothes; you’ll see the same slacks, cardigans, blouses, etc. As a male teacher, I never had to think too deeply about my wardrobe, but you slowly realize observing teachers how much effort there is to look professional, be comfortable, and not be revealing in front of students - especially since I focused on high school teachers.) Regardless of the conservative dress, I casually noticed her thick body meant her butt was still hugged tightly by the dress and quite prominent. That’s when I noticed her legs were tightly crossed as she was giving instructions this class period. I had certainly seen desperate teachers before, and while I could have typed up feedback that it wasn’t the best stance to give instructions (seriously - I had to give feedback on stuff as little as that; you’re supposed to stand straight and still and confidently to project instructions), I cut her some slack given what I presumed was a need to pee. It was also the last period, so she had probably held it since the morning on this day. After she gave instructions, she circulated the room, as a teacher should, bending down to talk to students who were confused or checked out. I saw her wince every time she bent down. Frankly, she was doing an admirable job hiding her desperation. If I wasn’t so keen on it, I don’t think I would have noticed and even then I didn’t realize she was actually so close to an accident. As they transitioned to the final full class discussion, she stood behind a podium she had and gripped the sides tightly. Her legs were crossed as she stood, though her face projected calm as she called out students to share their thoughts. I scribbled down some notes, but I was mostly entranced by her desperation. She had probably ten minutes left in the day. I definitely thought she could hold it, since her still pose made me think an accident wasn’t imminent, but as students were talking, I saw a glimmer out of the corner of my eye. I looked down and saw streaks running down her legs. She remained motionless and continued to call on students to talk. Fortunately for her, the din of the classroom discussion covered up the sound of her peeing. Droplets combined to become a growing puddle, but as it reached about a foot wide, still mostly hidden by the podium, her stream died down. Her black dress might have been wet, but it showed no sign as she transitioned the students to the final assignment, a quiz on the day’s activities. After she was finished giving instructions, she walked over to her desk and pretended to look busy, though I saw her brushing her hands on her dress, probably trying to gauge how wet she was. I was extremely impressed at her composure throughout her accident - she never showed weakness in commanding the class and hid her accident from the student. I guess luck in what she chose to wear played just as big a part. I was also glad I was sitting with a laptop on my lap, covering up how excited her accident made me. When the bell rang, the students departed without ever noticing the puddle, since it wasn’t on the path between the seats and the door. I calmed myself down and got up to walk over to Ms. Thompson. I pretended to notice nothing as I checked in with her and told her my feedback was emailed to her. Usually I’d talk for about ten to fifteen minutes about feedback, but I assume she wanted to be left alone. Her ears were bright red but otherwise she acted like nothing was amiss and stayed seated in her desk. Up close, I could see just a hint of a darker patch on the front of her black dress, but I mentioned nothing and wished her well and left. The second teacher I observed having an accident was less than a month later. I guess it was a bad month for teachers. Her name was Ms. Brady. She was wearing a white blouse and high waisted loose pants that had frills on the top that were black with light grey stripes. They were classic teacher pants as well, given that they were the combination of comfortable and not too revealing. It was evident that Ms. Brady was desperate from the get-go of her last period of the day. She kept crossing her legs as she took attendance. Aside from general desperation, though, I didn’t realize anything was amiss until halfway through class. She had grabbed a packet by me to pass out to the class and as she walked by, I saw a damp patch the size of a fist on her crotch. It was subtle, but you could tell if you looked closely at the grey stripes. The black, however, showed nothing and I doubted any student would notice. I couldn’t believe she had let out what must have been at least a couple spurts while continuing on like it was nothing. Teachers were a tough bunch, overall. After she had given the packets to someone and told the student to pass it down, she stood in front of me and gave instructions to read and annotate the first article. I had a clear view of her butt. She was the cross country coach, so she was skinny and had a toned butt, though her loose pants didn’t reveal too much. I couldn’t, for instance, see a panty line but I did see a glistening as she must have let out a little bit more and wetness grow underneath her butt and to her thighs. She cut it off and went back to her chair at her desk as the students worked independently. Behind her desk, only I could see her lower half and I saw her subtly put her hand in her crotch and cross her legs tightly. After a minute or so, she got up to check in on students who had questions. I admired that she still took her job seriously, despite the potential of being caught by being so close to students. Her students were focused on the task, though, and I think she got away with it. She squatted by a student particularly close to me and I could see right at her crotch. As she talked the student through the problem, I could see her pants glisten with wetness as she must have peed a little more. Not enough to really run down to her butt or drip on the floor, but I saw it. This pattern continued. She directed students to a follow-up instruction and I thought I saw a glistening along her inner thighs as she gave instructions. As she circulated again while they worked in small groups, I thought I saw yet another burst of wetness on her front. The students’ engagement with their work and the pants’ design and the spurts in which her wetting occurred kept anyone but me from noticing. That being said, by the time she was telling students to do the final activity in the last five minutes of class, I could tell the wetness had reached all the way down to her shoes. She had essentially fully wet herself, but had done it over the course of fifty minutes, which prevented any obvious puddles or clear stains on her pants. After she dismissed her students, we met and discussed how class went without her ever letting on she had an accident. If I thought Ms. Thompson didn’t show her hand, Ms. Brady was like reading a wall. Maybe accidents happened more than I realized and I just never noticed because of their bravado. Towards the beginning of the next year, I observed a Dominican teacher named Ms. Batista. She was what the teens would call “thick” and I knew dealing with inappropriate comments from students would be a problem for her, especially since at the beginning of the year her button ups and her work pants had a tendency of hugging every curve. She handled it like a champ, though, and her choice of outfit got subtly more conservative as she adjusted to working with high schoolers, but the day I saw her having an accident was earlier in the year. So, on that day, she was wearing a white button up that accentuated her hips and her breasts (I mean, I can’t say I didn’t check her out too, in addition to the students!) and tight black work pants that showed off her sizable butt (and I could see the outline of a thong). I was observing her during her first period class. She had rushed in and seemed somewhat frazzled, her tightly curly hair in a slightly messy ponytail. As she hurriedly passed out the materials and gave her students instructions to begin the day, she occasionally stopped to cross her legs and fidget. She must have woken late and didn’t have enough time to go that morning. A few minutes later she had moved the students into a group discussion amongst themselves. It seemed a little forced, like it wasn’t originally in the lesson plan, but that’s when I realized she was walking over to her desk. She gave me an eye, like to not comment on what was about to happen. She stood at her desk and just let loose. I could see a shiny wetness on her black pants as she peed and a puddle grew on the floor. Her desk was a solid, hefty one and blocked the view, not that students were looking back at her. She peed for almost a minute, it seemed. When she was done and she shook off droplets off her legs, she stepped from behind her desk and looked down. The black pants really didn’t show much of anything. I couldn’t believe she had wet herself that brazenly, but she went on with her class. No one noticed a thing and her class went on without a hitch, though when she walked by me I thought I could smell just a whiff of urine. A year later, I was observing a new teacher named Ms. Cruz. A skinny Latina lady, she had worn a yellow dress a little more form fitting than Ms. Thompson from before. I could see the faint outline of full cut panties as it hugged her butt. It wasn’t so revealing as to be inappropriate for a teacher, though I thought perversely she would definitely end up being some high schooler’s teacher crush. I noticed her desperation a few minutes into class when she was explaining the topic they were covering today and she stood in front of the class with her legs tightly crossed. A few minutes later, when the students were working on an activity in small groups, she stood in the back to observe. She kept stepping forwards and backwards, fidgeting her feet as she stood. At one point, she bent over just a little bit with her legs crossed and held that position for a few seconds before straightening back up. Her face flushed red and I wondered if she peed a little. She saw a raised hand and walked over to student’s desk. Facing away from me, I saw her bend over to be at eye level with the seated students and cross her legs as she stood, a very awkward looking stance. She seemed to answer the student’s questions without incident, though, and walked away a little stiffly. Class went on without incident until about fifteen minutes later. Her desk was at the front of the class and I was seated by it. While students were working in groups, she rushed over to the teacher’s desk and sat next to me. She pretended to look up something on her computer, but sitting next to her, I could tell all she did was pull up her emails. She then lifted her dress above her panties, which I saw were white. I was beside her, so I didn’t have a straight angle at her and plus didn’t want to be seen checking her out so I kept my eyes on my own computer, but I could just hear the hissing of her wetting herself over the din of the class. They likely heard and saw nothing, but I could hear it go on and on and eventually drip onto the floor. When she was finished, she lifted her butt off her seat just a little bit and pulled down her dress. She looked at me and knew instantly that I knew what had happened. She whispered to me, “Hey, is there a wet spot?” I looked at her from the front and shook my head but asked her to turn around. From behind, her dress was getting wet, likely since the back of her panties were wet from sitting. I whispered, “It’s wet behind.” She groaned and then just chose to sit back down in her desk. She grabbed students’ attention. “Alright, all that is left is the conclusion at the back of the packet, please work on that for the last ten minutes of class and when you’re done you can turn it in in the basket at the front table. I’ll dismiss you when class is out.” She spent the rest of class sitting in her own puddle, pretending to be working on her computer. Fortunately for her, no students had any questions to get her attention, and the last ten minutes went by without a hitch. When the bell rang, she dismissed the students from her desk and eventually the room was empty of everyone but us. She swung her chair around and as she faced me I saw a glimpse of her white panties, the crotch wet and stained. She looked down mournfully. “I’m sorry, this is embarrassing.” At this point, this was the third accident I had witnessed and I was also personally thrilled, so I wanted to comfort her. “Please. It’s okay. I’m glad no one found out. In fact, I can help you clean this up if you’d like.” She shook her head. “Please, no. Just don’t mention this to anyone.” “Of course. Your secret is safe with me.” She looked visibly relieved and got up to hug me. I didn’t mention I noticed some droplets falling off her dress onto the ground when she did so. She gave me a quick peck on the cheek, as well, which I chalked up to cultural differences, but a little bit of me wished I made a move in one of the future times I observed her, or after I was done evaluating her teaching. I never did in that instance, though, and we both never mentioned that incident again. The next teacher I observed having an accident was Ms. Danvers. She was a short brunette with straight hair and a soft heart. I liked her a lot and students did, too, though I think a class with a lot of behavioral issues would run right over her. I also liked Ms. Danvers because she occasionally flirted with me, honestly. I had observed her multiple times before this particular incident. She would comment that I looked too handsome to have been promoted to administration but also said it’s a good thing I wasn’t a teacher anymore because the girl students would have crushes on me. I was kind of surprised she said those kinds of things, but I certainly didn’t complain. I usually just awkwardly smiled back, though I would occasionally compliment her outfits. The day she had an accident she was wearing a patterned blue and white jumpsuit with a cardigan that was long enough to cover her butt. It was conservative but I thought she looked cute in it. When she entered the class and saw me before class started, she gave me a hello and a wink. Ms. Danvers wasn’t obvious about her desperation while talking to students, but whenever they were doing independent or group work, she sat at her desk and crossed her legs and shoved her hands in her crotch. I was sitting in the back, so I could see her holding her crotch, but the students couldn’t. I should have given feedback that she shouldn’t just sit there and she should circulate among the students, but given the circumstances I let it slide. Despite her obvious desperation at her desk, the class went without incident until the “exit ticket” (the end of the class quiz to make sure the students learned something that day). She stood in front of the class and gave instructions. As she did, her knees buckled slightly and she stuttered her instructions. She got through them without students questioning her, though, and quickly walked up to me. She whispered to me, “Oh my god, I think I just peed a little.” I couldn’t believe she was so open with me. I looked down and saw a small spot the width of a dollar bill. “Yeah, but I don’t think anyone will notice. Class is over in five minutes, you got this.” I paused for a second but remembered regretting never making a move with Ms. Cruz. I added, “Plus, you look cute when you’re desperate.” I almost regretted saying that immediately. Fortunately, she seemed to brighten up and went back to circulating the classroom. When class was over and she dismissed them, she walked back to me. When the room was empty and it was just us, she crossed her legs and buckled her knees. “Oh my god, I’m about to wet myself.” I no longer knew how much of this was truth and how much of it was her flirting with me, given my last comment. “You made it, though.” “Well, almost. I gotta hear your feedback first.” Hmm… Definitely flirting with me. I told her to sit next to me. As I talked through my notes and advice, she kept crossing and uncrossing her legs and thrusted her hands into her crotch, leaning over. I couldn’t help but feel myself get excited as I tried to remain professional. I was almost done walking through my notes when she interrupted me. “Please. Can you walk me to the bathroom as you wrap up your comments? I don’t know if I’ll make it.” “Uhh…” I realized a certain something would be obvious if I stood up. She looked me in the eyes. “Please?” She took off her cardigan and then stood up and held out her hand. I took it and she pulled me up, wincing as she likely peed a little bit more. She noticed the obvious bulge and raised an eyebrow before leading me out the classroom. She peeked out and saw it was clear. From behind, I could see visible wet spot as well. She gestured for me to follow her and said, “Alright, what else were you going to say?” “I was pretty much done, I was just going to summarize by saying you present yourself as relatable and approachable for the students, which is great, though if you had a tougher classroom to manage you should think about what your procedures are with more disruptive students.” She nodded before gasping and grabbing her crotch. She turned to me - we both looked flustered. She grinned at my reddening face and said, “I have to come up with procedures for this disruptive adult that visits my classroom every month. He says he’s here to give me feedback but it seems he’s always just looking at my butt…” I was mortified that I had been so unprofessional all year, but she certainly didn’t seem to mind and she flung open the bathroom door and pulled me in. She led me into a closed off stall usually reserved for people with wheelchairs and locked the door before kissing me. “What do you think of my procedures now?” I returned the kiss. “I think they’re quite effective…” She gasped again and pulled back. “I just peed a little again… Help me take this off.” I saw the wetness had traveled halfway down her thighs and was very visible in the front. When she turned around the wet spot was similarly large beneath her butt. I unzipped her jumpsuit and she began to wriggle out of it. As she pulled it down with some struggle, I could hear a hissing start and the moment the jumpsuit cleared her butt she sat down, light blue boyshorts still on, and she peed straight through her panties into the toilet bowl. I was hard as a rock at the sight, and she could tell. She unzipped my pants and pulled it down and began stroking me. There were all sorts of ethical questions running through my head, but I was lonely and too astonished at my luck to dwell on them. When she was done peeing, I pulled her off the toilet, sat myself down, and sat her down on my lap and began to finger her. When she was ready, I pulled her panties to the side and we fucked right there on the toilet. I fingered her as we fucked, more to try to make sure she came as fast as possible because there was no way I would last. After just a couple minutes, she came hard, and I felt more spurts come out of her and run down me before I came as well. We sat there for a while, panting, before she pulled off me and readjusted her underwear, which were soaked in the front and back. She pulled up her jumpsuit, which were still obviously wet. I zipped her up. We snuck back to her classroom and she tied her cardigan around her waist. We didn’t mention that day again for a while, but after the school year was done and there wasn’t a conflict of interest (that day aside…), we dated for a year until she got a job at a different school district far away. A few weeks later, I observed Ms. Okafor. She was a tall Nigerian woman and curvaceous and skinny at the same time. She really fit the modern beauty standards, wearing a black dress much tighter than Ms. Thompson. I thought it was just a tad too revealing, as I could see a clear outline of her underwear (full cut panties) and a small bit of cleavage, but it wasn’t to the point of making a comment in my feedback. Frankly, it probably would look looser on Ms. Cruz or Danvers, Okafor’s body just really filled it out. I couldn’t help but check her out. Ms. Okafor’s desperation was a bit different. I didn’t really notice anything except that she was stiff until she was standing in front of me giving instructions halfway through class. I couldn’t help but look at her butt a couple times and the tightness of her dress gave away that her butt was tightly clenched. In fact, during the next activity, she stood in front of me yet again to give instructions and I thought I heard underneath her voice the sound of a low whistle before smelling a clear fart. She walked away quickly. She went through class without incident until she brought the students back from their activity for a full group discussion. I stood by the front door so she faced the students but her back was to me. As she stood and engaged with student answers, I thought I saw her butt unclench just slightly. It was subtle, but I thought I saw the fabric of the dress right where her legs met under her butt stretch just a little bit. She kept engaging in conversation as if nothing was happening, but I could also see a small stream roll down her right leg and a couple droplets form on the ground. She quickly wrapped up the conversation and directed students to do the exit ticket. She clearly hadn’t let out much pee, as aside from the momentary stream and a couple of droplets, I saw no more evidence of her accident. She walked to her desk, which was also at the front of the classroom facing the students, and leaned over her materials, probably pretending to be busy. When she walked towards her desk and as she bent over, from my angle across the room by the entrance I could see more hints of the bulge, though I did not smell anything and there was no stain. When five minutes were up, she dismissed the students and stayed at her desk, saying goodbye from that position. After they had all exited, I walked up to her at her desk. Standing in front of her, I could faintly smell poop, but it wasn’t overpowering. “Hey, good job running class today. I have my feedback written up, want to talk through today or want me to email and we can talk more after the next shadowing?” She feigned tiredness. “It’s been a long week, could we do the full meeting next time? I appreciate the feedback.” “No problem, I’ll shoot you a follow-up email.” With that, I departed, and I pretended I noticed nothing throughout the rest of the year. That wasn’t the only messing accident I witnessed. A year later, after Ms. Danvers and I broke up, I observed Ms. Hansen. She was a brunette with a pretty face and a surprisingly large butt. She was a fiercely strict teacher but by the end of the year earned the respect of her students. Her demeanor made her accident so surprising to me. It was first period and she had entered the classroom in a surprising rush, since she was usually so prepared (which is tough for a first year teacher). She was wearing a white top with the shoulders exposed, seemingly the fashion of recent years, and a blue skirt that was rather modest but still showed off her butt. Her hair was in a quick ponytail and I surmised she must have been in a hurry this morning. The situation reminded me of Ms. Batista. I could tell Ms. Hansen was desperate because she occasionally hunched over and her face showed a level of pain sometimes. That being said, she kept on a brave face as she instructed the class. Like Ms. Batista, she then directed them to get to work, though as a math class they worked independently rather than in a group. After standing awkwardly, seeming undecided on what to do, Ms. Hansen walked over to the corner I was in. Her classroom was a tight fit and filled to the max, so my corner was the furthest she could be from students. She stood beside me, pretending to watch the class, but I soon heard it - the telltale sound of crackling as she pooped. I eyed her butt and I thought I could get the faintest hint of a bulge pushing back her skirt, but with the flexible fabric and outfit choice, it really wasn’t noticeable aside from the quiet sounds. She stood still as a statue while this happened. I could start to get a whiff of it towards the end, but she quickly walked away like nothing was wrong (maybe a little bow-legged) and carried on the lesson. I couldn’t believe she had gotten away with THAT and could carry on a lesson, but you really wouldn’t have noticed except the faintest scent when she came close. After class was finished, she had a prep period after so didn’t have to go teach another class. When the room was empty of students, I asked, “Great job today. Do you want to talk through my feedback or have me just email you?” She said, “Umm… email me. I gotta… well… clean up.” I raised an eyebrow. I decided to be blunt to see what would happen. “You mean from when you… pooped standing next to me?” She blushed and froze for a second before deciding to be blunt as well. “Yeah.” She looked around and closed the door to her classroom. “I… Umm… I’ve had issues with making it some days, I don’t have a prep break some days so I…” She trailed off and pulled up her skirt to show her point she pulled up her skirt to show a diaper, to my shock. They were clearly yellowed in the front, so she must have peed them as well. “I didn’t have time this morning to go, so I was pretty certain I couldn’t hold it, I always have to go in the morning, so I just put this on today.” After a moment’s shock, I said, “Wow, thanks for being willing to tell me. That’s actually brilliant, I’m surprised more teachers don’t do that. Well, maybe they do and I just didn’t know. So many teachers have schedules that don’t give them breaks.” She looked relieved that I wasn’t judgmental. She pulled out a second pair out of her bag, gave me a wink, and then put them back in her bag to take to the bathroom to change. I wished I could change her, but I didn’t want to come across like a creep and just gave her a smile and headed out. That same year, I observed Ms. Beverly. Ms. Beverly was an excellent first year teacher and developed good connections with the students and she was the first teacher I witnessed (and only, I believe!) having an accident in front of students and getting caught. That was probably because Beverly, a curvaceous blonde, was wearing white work pants. White was a risky color - I could practically see the white thong underneath under the harsh fluorescent school lights. She probably didn’t know it was visible when she dressed. I could see her tap her foot incessantly throughout class and pretty obviously clench her butt (though the students usually didn’t have a view of her from behind) throughout, but I thought given how obvious an accident would be in white pants she would swallow her pride and ask me to sub for her if she really needed to go. I couldn’t have been more wrong. She made it until she was giving instructions for the end of class quiz. As she stood in front of the class, I could see in real time her bowels give up, her cheeks unclench, and a turd slowly push aside her thong and begin to push her white slacks back, staining them brown. A bulge formed as the poop curled up along the left thigh, not held in by the thong at all. Her voice sounded strained and she stuttered a bit, but she bravely tried to finish her instructions. Unfortunately, as she pooped, she seemed to involuntarily pee a bit (I could see wetness spread beneath her cheeks and start running down her thighs) and I heard gasps from students as they must have seen a wet spot begin to form and spread. She finished her instructions a couple seconds later but no one was paying attention. One student shouted, “Ms. Beverly, did you piss yourself?!” Students in unison began jeering and chattering, not directly making fun of her but clearly in shock at what they witnessed. Ms. Beverly began backing away, trying and failing to tell students to get to work. She clearly didn’t want to show her behind to the students. As she went past me, I could see she was almost in tears. I stood up and walked up to her. “I’ll take over, don’t worry.” She nodded and I got the students back at attention. “You heard her instructions, you have ten minutes left, get to work!” With some individual redirections, everyone eventually quieted down and got to work. I didn’t see Ms. Beverly again, and last I heard she had quit and became a paraprofessional at a different school with the hopes of building her confidence again to go back into teaching. I sent her an email wishing her well and extolling the virtues of her as a teacher, which she understandably never responded to. wether, Keita123, WetNick88 and 20 others 21 2 Quote Link to comment
fullbladder 1,277 Posted November 28, 2019 Share Posted November 28, 2019 WOW! This is unique and epic- thanks for writing! herrokitty 1 Quote Link to comment
GemWarrior 7 Posted November 28, 2019 Share Posted November 28, 2019 i love all of these so much! you are excellent at describing their desperation, i'd love more if you had any other ideas! herrokitty 1 Quote Link to comment
GemWarrior 7 Posted November 28, 2019 Share Posted November 28, 2019 i'd love a situation where maybe the main character is flirting with another teacher, and he's with her for multiple classes and she gets the opportunity to go but doesnt Quote Link to comment
Melificentfan 1,215 Posted November 28, 2019 ✨ Legendary Member Share Posted November 28, 2019 What excellent stories I enjoyed each and every one of them herrokitty 1 Quote Link to comment
Theonlysaneperson 42 Posted November 28, 2019 Share Posted November 28, 2019 fantastic job with these lovely, creative vignettes! herrokitty 1 Quote Link to comment
djramon05 1 Posted November 28, 2019 Share Posted November 28, 2019 Thanks for all the stories! herrokitty 1 Quote Link to comment
joebarnes 32 Posted November 29, 2019 Share Posted November 29, 2019 Another herrokitty classic, good job! herrokitty 1 Quote Link to comment
Keita123 1,103 Posted November 29, 2019 Share Posted November 29, 2019 Wow, this is really good! herrokitty 1 Quote Link to comment
WetNick88 135 Posted December 1, 2019 Share Posted December 1, 2019 Fantastic set of stories. I hope there is at least some truth in the Ms Danvers one, that was seriously hot! And Ms Hansen's diaper was a great twist. herrokitty 1 Quote Link to comment
bobwells55 170 Posted December 4, 2019 Share Posted December 4, 2019 Fantastic herrokitty 1 Quote Link to comment
WowIcantsleep 2 Posted December 16, 2019 Share Posted December 16, 2019 Great stories! Its a shame none of my teachers ever had accidents like these lol Quote Link to comment
DerivativeWings 1,648 Posted December 19, 2019 Share Posted December 19, 2019 I like this herrokitty 1 Quote Link to comment
herrokitty 495 Posted January 25, 2020 Author Share Posted January 25, 2020 Hey all, I've been super busy since the holidays but wanted to wrap this one up. The last ones aren't as school related, but hope you enjoy. Messing warning, of course. The second-most recent accidents I witnessed were a year after that, when I was thirty two. That year, I actually moved jobs. I was hired to be a consultant and teacher coach for a new school. I moved to a new job pretty quickly, as I discovered it was quite a hostile workplace, but their staff as a new school in a low income area was largely younger and quite attractive teachers. The hostile workplace showed through in the strict rules and top down management the principal forced on teachers. For instance, the principal threatened to dock their pay if they were late to meetings and required full attendance with no breaks during professional development sessions, called PDs. This made for a terrible workplace and unhappy teachers, though it’s relevant to the accidents I witnessed. Actually, the accidents I witnessed were all on the same day. The day was early in the school year and I suspect the teachers were not used to the principal’s absurd power trip. The first accident, though, was much like the others I had witnessed. It was the last period of the day before an early release for the students and an hour and a half of professional development. As a coach, I was in and out of classrooms so I was working on my laptop in the hallway rather than in my office. A Spanish teacher, Ms. Werner, peeked her head out her door and saw me. Her face was one of panic. She beckoned me over. “Hey, I really really need to go, can you cover me?” “Of course, no problem.” “Great, they just have work time so nothing you need to do.” She said it all like it was one word, likely due to her desperation. She opened the door fully to leave. I checked her out as she walked past me. She was wearing a white turtleneck and black vest but I was most interested in her bottom half, which were black leggings. They definitely weren’t dress code, but I wasn’t complaining. I could see a spot glistening on the front of her crotch as she sped past me. She was a skinny brunette, but she had a curvaceous butt and I could easily tell they were clenched as I looked at her go. Halfway down the hall, I saw her stop suddenly and cross her legs. A wave of glistening wetness descended halfway down her knees and I thought I saw her butt unclench momentarily and a bulge begin to form. She immediately continued to speed walk. I calmed myself down and swung the door back open and entered and directed the students back to their work. Turns out I had to give them directions for their final assignment, but the teacher did a good enough job of prepping them so even without knowing Spanish they knew how to tackle the last assignment. Almost at the very end, Ms. Werner came back, cheeks and ears bright red. I glanced down and thought I could tell there was a darker patch on her black leggings around her crotch and down her thighs, but couldn’t be sure. She said, “I’m so sorry I left you here so long, were there any issues?” I shook my head no. I thought I could just faintly pick up the smell of poop, but it could have been wishful thinking. We dismissed the class together and then she groaned. “We have to head straight to PD.” “Yup… see you there.” I left her room and let her usher out her students and answer any last minute questions. We usually had five minutes to get to PD, which meant if you had any students linger to ask questions you really had to sprint to avoid our asshole principal calling you out. When I got to our all-school PD, I sat in the back to avoid the principal. Ms. Hill, our social worker, also sat back there. She was a blonde beauty with shortish straight hair down to her shoulder. Today she was wearing jeans and a sweater, a common theme on our dress down days (early release Wednesdays meant we didn’t have to wear as strict dress code). We often sat together at the back and flirted… Today looked to be no different. The back table also meant I got all the late arrivals at my table, which were Ms. Holly, Ms. Cherry, Ms. Smith, Ms. Rodriguez, and Ms. Hill. Ms. Holly was a short science teacher with wavy dirty blonde hair wearing grey slacks (that on closer inspection, were made out of the same materials as sweatpants and even had drawstrings, but they had pockets on the butt, so it technically fit dress code - well played, Ms. Holly) and a red long sleeve shirt. Ms. Cherry was a brunette of a similar height, though she tied her hair back in a ponytail. She was wearing a white blouse and tan khakis. They weren’t tight but I could see the clear outline of full cut panties in them. Ms. Smith was a thin and athletic light skinned black woman who wore her hair natural as it came down to shoulder length. She wore light blue jeans for the day and a college sweater, similar to Ms. Hill. Ms. Rodriguez was a short but curvy Latina lady who wore blue slacks that showed off her butt and a grey sweater. The principal came to our table and looked those teachers in the eyes. “You’re all a minute late. If you step out of this PD at any point before it ends, I’m taking it out of your paycheck.” I rolled my eyes so that the other teachers could see my disdain for the principal without her noticing. When she left, Ms. Holly grumbled, “That bitch. I was helping a student! Plus, I have to piss so bad.” Ms. Cherry replied, “Same, girl. I haven’t gone since before school started.” Ms. Hill looked a little guilty. She leaned over to me. “Nice thing about not being a teacher is I can go to the bathroom whenever.” I high fived her under the table. “You and I have not-a-teacher privilege.” As the PD kicked off (something about diversity, which made me feel bad for not listening, but as with all school trainings, it was utterly useless) Hill and I made side comments to each other throughout. However, as the time went on, I was more and more distracted by my other tablemates. Ms. Cherry had her legs tightly crossed and was rocking ever so slightly back and forth. She seemed to have the most control over her desperation. Ms. Holly was openly bouncing her legs, her right hand in her crotch. Ms. Rodriguez was hunched over, arms crossed over her stomach, and Ms. Smith looked somewhat normal but was very stiff and I heard her stomach grumbling over the din of conversation multiple times. About 45 minutes in, we had to separate for stations, where we went to discuss different topics at different parts of the room. I took my time, in part because I wanted to observe my tablemates but also because I wasn’t paying attention and needed to catch what the different stations were. I saw Ms. Holly valiantly remove her hand and stand up and walk semi-normally to a station, though her gait was short. Ms. Cherry was next, and her khakis, which were tight enough to show a clear pantyline, highlighted that her butt was tightly clenched. Watching her flex her butt as she walked drove me a little crazy. Ms. Smith was next. Her jeans didn’t give away her need and but she stood up I thought I heard the smallest fart. She quickly shuffled away. Ms. Rodriguez stayed seated the longest. It almost looked like she was grinding her butt to her seat. Eventually, what must have been a wave of desperation passed and she stood up and headed to a station. At that point I needed a few more seconds before I could stand up. From behind, someone put their hands on my shoulder. That’s when I heard Ms. Hill’s voice. “You haven’t gotten up yet? What, you hiding an erection?” I turned to look at her and fake gasped and pretended I was scandalized. “You are out of control, Ms. Hill! Don’t let the kids find out you talk like that.” I smiled to show I was joking and to hide the fact that she was pretty close to right before she and I headed to some random station. Something about… putting race and identity into your lessons? Either way, as a non-teacher, I stood in the back and Ms. Hill did the same. We were in the same group as Ms. Rodriguez, and I admit I enjoyed being able to stare at her butt as it clenched and unclenched as she had renewed waves of desperation. At one point, though, Hill noticed me looking. She whispered, “Why are you looking at her butt and not mine?” Damn, she was forward today. “Damn, Hill, what’s gotten into you? Is PD so boring you’re flirting with idiots like me?” “You know you can call me my first name.” “Sure… Lauren. Wait. Your name is Lauren Hill?” “That’s why I have such good rhythm.” She winked. I smirked back. At that point, though, I heard a grumbling and looked ahead to see Rodriguez’s butt unclench slightly. My breath caught in my throat as I saw just the tiniest bulge begin to appear. The khakis were tight and riding up her crack, so the bulge appeared almost to one side to the left of the crack. She crossed her legs, though, and it stopped growing. We rotated stations a couple more times and I lost track of Rodriguez. I saw some of the other teachers across the room, seeing Ms. Holly rock back and forth as she stood and Cherry tapping her foot. Eventually, we returned to our original tables. I took particular care to look at Rodriguez’s butt and could see the tiny bulge as she sat down, presumably flattening it. Ms. Holly returned to her foot tapping and Ms. Cherry gripped the sides of her chair tightly. Ms. Smith looked poised and calm, but as the last fifteen minutes ticked on, I saw her lean forward just slightly and what looked like a small shadow appear right at her crotch below the zipper. A moment later it grew slightly into a wet circle the size of a quarter. I assume the rest of the wetness stretched down towards her butt, invisible due to her tightly crossed legs. I wanted to keep staring, but Lauren got my attention. “Hey. After this. Bar across the street?” Despite my constant attention at the others, I enjoyed the attention to Lauren. I wasn’t opposed. “Sure thing.” “Cool. McKenzie, Ella, and I go every Wednesday.” McKenzie and Ella were Ms. Holly and Ms. Cherry, respectively. The last fifteen minutes ticked by without further incident. After, Smith and Rodriguez at our table raced to the bathroom. Ms. Holly & Cherry stayed with us to walk to the bar. I assume they planned to go there. I also assumed that was the end of watching Rodriguez and Smith but as Lauren and I walked down the hall, we saw the four of them crowd the door. I asked, “What’s the matter?” Ms. Smith responded first. “They locked the damn doors already! The custodians have closed up shop.” Lauren chimed in. “Why don’t you two join us, we’re going to the bar across the street. You can use their bathroom.” They thanked her and joined us. As we walked down the hall, though, I could hear a gurgling from Ms. Smith. She winced, her usually relaxed face tense and framed by her curly hair falling in front of her. She seemed almost frozen and I thought I heard her pass gas and maybe even a light crackle before she picked up the pace, though now was walking in almost baby steps. As I passed her, I looked back at her and saw the wet spot had grown slightly on her crotch. I held the front door open and as she passed me I could see the hint of a wet spot creep up her butt and definitely heard the distinct crackling of someone pooping themselves. She slowed down considerably as she walked but I stayed behind her. Despite the fact that her jeans weren’t too tight, I could see them get pushed back subtly as the poop must have curled up inside her panties. She definitely couldn’t have been wearing a thong. When she finished, her stride got a bit longer as she tried to catch up to the others, and when her legs were furthest apart I could see the bulge most clearly as the jeans stretched against it. It was all I could do not to have my own obvious bulge. When we caught up to the others, Lauren asked if she was okay. Ms. Smith grunted, “I just leaked a little.” The others could see it and reassured her. “You’ll get first dibs!” In the outdoors she got away with not admitting to the messing. We entered the bar with no further mishaps. Once inside, I acted like I was going to go to the bathroom with Rodriguez and Smith so the others went to grab drinks and a table. This bar had two single occupancy bathrooms. One was open and Smith walked straight in without anyone but me any the wiser. Rodriguez was too focused on her own desperation, anyway, as she waited for the other one to open up. We made some small talk, but she wasn’t a very good conversationalist as she shifted weight constantly from one leg to the other, her right leg crossed over her left. Suddenly, she gasped and I saw a glistening spot appear and grow. She immediately shoved her hands into her crotch and bent over, but it didn’t stop growing until it was the size of a dinner plate; it was easily visible even with her hands in her crotch. At that moment, the person who was inside left, shooting her a strange look but minding their business. Rodriguez gritted her teeth as she hissed, “Help me. I can’t move.” I immediately held the door open as she shuffled inside, hand still in her crotch. As she passed me I could see the bulge had grown in her back, now a golf ball sized droop along the inside of her left cheek. She said, “Please. Come in.” I couldn’t believe it. I walked in and locked the door. “Unzip my pants. I can’t remove my hands.” My hands shook in nervousness and anticipation, but I unbuttoned her slacks and zipped them down. Grey panties greeted me. As I did this, I could hear a muffled fart as her poop began to continue to descend. She shuffled over to the toilet, her bulge growing now to the size of a clementine, and spun around. She said, “Pull my pants down, please.” I walked over and grabbed each side. I pulled down and she let go of her crotch at the same time. Her pants came down quickly, but her panties did not. I was greeted with what turned out to be boyshorts which were soaked on the bottom half. She just sat down with them on and peed through her panties. I could also hear her noisily poop straight into her underwear. Sitting, her face was directly level with my crotch, and she must have seen the state I was in. Without saying anything, she reached over and unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them and my boxers down. I did not protest. She beckoned me closer and I stepped forward willingly. She leaned over as she continued to pee and poop and put her mouth around my dick. Embarrassingly, hearing her accident on the toilet was such a turn on that in the thirty remaining seconds it took for her to finish pooping and peeing, I came into her mouth. She didn’t seem to mind, swallowing and saying, “I hope that suffices as a thank you for helping and buys your silence about this accident.” I nodded, too dazed to speak. As I zipped up, she pulled down her panties and dumped the mound of poop in them into the toilet. She looked mournfully at the mess and just pulled up her dirty panties and her pants up without cleaning up. She must have thought why bother. We both exited the bathroom. Her dark blue pants clearly had a large wet circle, but there was no sign of her messing accident other than a faint lingering smell. When we joined the others, Ms. Smith was already there and had a clear wet spot the size of a fist on her jeans. Her and Rodriguez quickly took their leave and headed home. Despite their desperation, McKenzie Holly and Ella Cherry stayed seated to finish their drinks. We complained about administration and talked casually between the three of us and Lauren. Everything seemed normal, but if you paid attention you could tell McKenzie was bouncing her feet and legs rapidly and Ella was stiff in her movements. After the two teachers finished their drinks, McKenzie walked over to the bathrooms. Her gait was short but otherwise didn’t give away her desperation too much. However, a minute later she returned. “Both are full…” Ella said, “Damnit. We should use it before we go home, we take the bus and it’ll take ages.” Seeing my shot, I offered, “Why don’t I give you two a ride? Then you’ll be home in fifteen minutes or so.” Ella nodded. “That’d be great. McKenzie is just coming over to my place tonight to lesson plan anyway.” Lauren seemed a little disappointed but as the other two went to close their tabs, I slid her a piece of paper with my phone number. She smirked, then winked at me. I felt a little dirty given what I had just done and what I had planned, but I had to admit I wasn’t above trying to catch as many circumstances with these beautiful women as possible. I led the way to my car and Ella got in the front beside me while McKenzie got in the back. They gave me the address and I put it into Google Maps. Ella crossed her legs as I accelerated away and rocked back and forth. I looked at my rear view and saw McKenzie in the same boat, but she blatantly had her hand in her crotch. I raised an eyebrow. “You two good?” McKenzie groaned. “I haven’t had to go this bad in so long. Last time was last year…” Ella chimed in. “I remember that… I had to cover for your class.” “Yeah, I had to pee so bad I bent over right in front of this one student and he loudly announced he saw my thong because my shirt rode up. I was so embarrassed. I ran out the door and saw Ella in the hall and it was her prep so I asked her to cover for me.” “But you made it, right?” “Yeah… mostly. To be honest I started peeing as I took off my pants, but they were these dark red velvet pants and I don’t think it showed.” Ella replied, “I had a similar experience because I never have time to pee during work! I was wearing this red pencil skirt - you know which one McKenzie - and I had to go so bad but I went home right after work… I peed right in front of my toilet. Just straight through my underwear. At least no one saw…” Ella turned to me. “Someone is going to see an accident from me if we don’t get home soon…” “We’re almost there! I’m going as fast as I can.” As I talked, I thought I could smell the rather distinct smell of a fart and wondered if it was Ella. She gave no sign, but I knew she had to poop badly. I looked in my rear view mirror and saw McKenzie had her legs tightly crossed. She uncrossed them to cross them the other way and when she did I could see a wet spot the size of a fist on her crotch. She jammed a hand into her crotch, holding herself. I stopped at a red light a block away from Ella’s apartment. In the silence, I thought I heard a faint hiss from Ella beside me before a gurgle and quiet crackling. It was subtle, but I was certain she was losing control beside me. I looked over and saw a pained expression and her right hand was in her crotch while her left hand gripped the side of the car seat tightly. I accelerated away as the light turned green and arrived in front of the apartment and began to parallel park on the street. Almost before I stopped the car, Ella swung the door open and hobbled out. I could see a small wet trail going up her butt along the seam of her pants and could detect a small bulge that grew as she stepped out. McKenzie followed suit as I turned off the car. She stepped out and speed-walked with small steps towards the apartment door that Ella was unlocking. As she walked, wetness streamed down her legs and along the back of her pants. She must have been peeing freely. I followed them both into the apartment, observing the growing wet spots on the cement of the sidewalk that led to McKenzie. She held the door open for me and I could see her front was equally wet and still growing, a genuine puddle forming beneath her. As I passed her and caught up with Ella, who was unlocking her apartment door, I saw the bulge in the seat of her pants droop down to the size of an orange, crackling and muffled farts easily audible. She got the door open and McKenzie and I followed her in. McKenzie mournfully looked down her pants. “I… umm… I didn’t make it.” Ella looked apologetic. “Umm… Well then I’m gonna go so I don’t end up in the same boat.” A wet spot the size of a shot glass had formed on the front, but I could see how she felt like she hadn’t as obviously had an accident yet. I was unsure if McKenzie had seen the bulge on the back, but she must have mostly pooped herself already. Ella semi-waddled down the hall to the bathroom while McKenzie and I stood awkwardly in the living room as her wet pants dripped. It took McKenzie a few seconds before she made eye contact with me, likely extremely embarrassed at the situation. When she did, her face was bright red… until she saw my impossible-to-hide erection. She cocked an eyebrow. It was my turn to blush. “I… umm…” She pretended not to notice. “Come help me with the laundry.” I followed her down the hall and into a small room attached to the kitchen. She peeled off her pants, revealing a red thong that was soaked. She threw her pants in and poured in the detergent, bending over and showing me the wet string between her cheeks. She finally took off her thong and threw it in before starting the machine. She hoisted herself up and sat on top of it, spreading her legs slightly in an inviting hint. I walked over. “May I?” She nodded. I got on my knees and began to eat her out. The acrid scent of her piss permeated. Between my tongue and the vibrating laundry machine, it did not take long for her to cum. As she moaned in the throws of orgasm, I realized the door had opened. I looked over and Ella stood, mouth agape in surprise and her old pants still on, a wet spot on the front the size of a dinner plate. When McKenzie had came to her senses, she grinned at Ella. “Go on…” Ella walked over, less confident than McKenzie. She eyed my bulge, my dick straining for the better part of this afternoon at this point. They were already unbuttoned so she pulled them down, followed by my boxers. She began to blow me and I could tell she was nervous and inexperienced, but I found it endearing. After a few minutes, I pulled her up and began to take off her pants. Underneath were full cut white panties, yellowed in the front. I spun her around and pressed my dick against her ass, noting the brown stain on the back, and fingered her before bending her over the dryer and inserting myself in her, just pushing the dirty underwear to the side. McKenzie was watching, sitting on the washer, and enjoying herself. I slipped my fingers in from the front and felt her wet underwear as we had sex. It wasn’t long before she came and I pulled out and came on her messy underwear. McKenzie came a second time watching. When we all settled down, Ella threw her clothes into the washing machine and we all hung out in the living room for a while before I headed home. It turned out McKenzie wasn’t interested in anything past hooking up, but the reason why they had talked about me was Ella genuinely being interested. Before I had found that out a few weeks later, though, I had called Lauren for a date. Our first date went well, with a simple dinner. A week later, she invited me to join her on a run. It turned out she was a bit of a fitness person. When I showed up in a t-shirt and running shorts, she was wearing a tank top and bright pink leggings. They did an amazing job of accentuating her curvaceous ass. The date was nice enough - I was not nearly as athletic, so we ran at a slow enough pace that we could talk casually. We discussed work, where we grew up, and a whole host of other topics. I was unsure how long she was planning on running, but a mile in and she was grimacing every once in a while. When she was ahead, I could tell due to how form-hugging her leggings were that her ass was tightly clenched. Even as a non-runner, I knew all about runner’s trots and was pretty sure I knew what the issue was. Half a mile later, she abruptly stopped. She said, “Let’s head back.” I agreed, noting how unfit I was to give her cover. We slowly jogged back, our conversation slowing as she likely needed to concentrate further. Every once in a while, I thought I smelled the tell-tale scent of a fart, as well. When we were almost back, I actually noticed a bulge, but I realized it wasn’t her pooping herself yet. It was small and went from the lower center of her butt down towards between her legs. After a few seconds, it clicked. She was wearing a pad… she must have had on boyshorts or some other type of underwear without visible panty lines. I was curious if the pad was specifically for incontinence, since I knew lots of people peed a little under the strain of running. When we got to her front door, she fumbled with the keys and I could hear the tell-tale crackling of her messing herself. She opened the door wide and without explanation ran to the bathroom. In her tight leggings, I could see the bulge grow as she ran. I pretended not to notice and sat on her living room couch. When she came out a few minutes later, though I was turned on I could tell it had ruined the vibe for her so I left soon after. I did stop in the bathroom and under a pile of tissues found a soaked pad and in the laundry hamper found a pair of pink boyshorts that had a clear brown stain in the middle. As for Ella, I dated Lauren for a bit longer but we never became a “thing,” so Ella and I dated soon after, but I moved for my most recent job eventually and we didn’t take it to the next level. Lauren was pretty funny open about her farts while Ella was more stereotypically ladylike, but I didn’t see any accidents from either again. The last story I have to tell is about my most recent job. Eventually, I worked my way up to being an instructor at a college, teaching the next generation of teachers in a Master’s degree program. Now, with the freedoms of a graduate program, I didn’t witness many moments of desperation from either peer or student, except for one day. These graduate classes were small. This one had eight students. My classes were made up of people teaching in all sorts of schools, and this one had four from various charter schools. Their names were Danielle, Alexa, Sonia, and Sasha. Charter schools had a reputation for overworking teachers, and on this day I could tell some of them came straight from work due to their outfits. Sonia was a bright brown-haired lady. She wore her straight hair in a ponytail and was wearing a white blouse and white capris that accentuated her butt and felt almost see-through - I could see the outline of her underwear. Alexa’s school had a dress down day to celebrate… something, I’m not sure. She was a tall and skinny Latina with model looks that others in the class were subtly jealous about. She was wearing tight high waisted blue jeans and a red blouse. Sasha wore a simple white dress that went almost to her knees. She was a short curvy dirty blonde who worked with elementary aged kids. Danielle was the only one from a charter school who seemed to have time to go home and change, and she showed up in casual athletic wear - a tank top and grey leggings. This particular day we had a guest speaker, a school board member from the main local school district. Given his importance, despite the lax rules of college, the students felt obliged to stay in their seats during the presentation. I grabbed a chair at the back of the table that Danielle, Alexa, Sonia, and Sasha were at. At the time, I didn’t know they were all desperate. Quickly, I noticed their fidgets. Sonia rocked back and forth subtly. Alexa’s legs were tightly crossed and bounced rapidly. Sasha soon lifted her legs and sat on her foot, despite wearing a dress. Danielle kept shifting positions, from crossed to sitting on her foot to bouncing each leg rapidly. At one point I saw Danielle hold her crotch explicitly. A few minutes in, I smelled the clear scent of a fart. This was made more obvious by an audible brap from one of the girls soon after, but I couldn’t tell which and the rest of the class ignored it. As the presenter kept going, I saw Sonia lift her butt to switch positions and could tell it was tightly clenched. A similar moment with Danielle and her leggings was even more obvious, her cheeks tense. So, I was surprised when it was Alexa who seemed to lose control first. I saw her roll over so that one cheek was in the air while her legs remained crossed. She was sitting closest to me so I heard the subtle crackling. The tight jeans simultaneously flattened the potential bulge but also showed a clear deformed mound that drooped on her left side. She slowly lowered herself. I could smell it faintly, but it wasn’t too obvious. I didn’t notice anything else obvious for the rest of the presentation. However, during the Q+A, Sasha worked up the courage to actually leave the room and as she walked out I both saw rivulets roll down her legs and I could tell she had already messed herself the way the dress gave away a bulge while she was in mid-stride. Alexa got up and followed her out, though she would have to wait since the bathroom outside the classroom was single occupancy. The speaking portion was finally over and I suggested a ten minute break. Danielle and Sonia both immediately got up. Sonia had a wet spot already that had crept up her butt. The wetness made her pants more transparent, and I could tell she was wearing blue panties. Danielle had a wet spot as well, but it was much smaller and I only saw when she turned around to leave. However, it stood out on her light grey leggings. I did the responsible thing and thanked our speaker before answering a couple student questions. After a few minutes, I was free and still had about six minutes of break so I went out to the water fountain, which happened to be by the lady’s bathroom. Sasha was walking out of the bathroom, looking relieved with no sign of her accident. Alexa hurried in, and I noticed a wet spot had joined her bulge in her jeans. Sonia was next and her wetness had grown to go down a couple inches of her thighs. Danielle’s wet spot hadn’t grown, but I noticed a bump - she must have been prairie dogging, and with her leggings, it hid nothing. As I drank, I heard the familiar crackling and assumed it was Danielle, but as I walked away what I saw was a growing bulge in Sonia’s blue panties and white pants. The wetness grew too, going halfway down her thighs. The bulge was very obvious and the shape of a clementine while her transparent white pants showed a hint of a brown stain. Danielle almost certainly saw everything but was in no position to comment. I grabbed a seat on a bench in the hall and checked my phone, pretending that I noticed nothing. Alexa finally came out, a small wet spot on her jeans but no other evidence, and Sonia hurried in. To my surprise, Danielle walked over and sat beside me. She gripped the edge of the bench. “Sorry, professor, but I had to sit down or else I’d poop myself on the spot.” I was surprised at her candor and didn’t know what to say. “Oh… Umm… Well I’m about to start class in a minute but don’t feel like you have to come back right away, take care of yourself first.” “No it’s fine I can hold it.” I shrugged and returned to the room and resumed the class. Eventually, Sonia snuck in and immediately sat down before anyone could notice her accident. She slowly put on her long black coat, which would cover her butt and crotch. I, however, was more distracted as I tried to carry class along by Danielle’s obvious and unnecessary desperation. What was her game? I occasionally stumbled on my words as I noticed the wet spot on Danielle’s lap expand over time in fits and spurts. I finally ended class (early, mind you) and everyone packed and left except Danielle, who pretended to work on something on her computer. After everyone cleared out, I walked over. “Hey, are you okay?” She moaned, “Finally.” I was confused until I heard the hissing and saw wetness race down her legs and off the seat, darkening the carpet underneath her chair. I stared, enjoying the show and also perplexed. When she finished peeing, I said, “Umm… Why did you do that?” She pointed at my crotch where I realized I had a clearly visible boner. “I noticed the way you looked at me while I had to go and while I was in line. I decided to have some fun. You know… I still have to go.” I stayed silent, seeing where this was going. She got up and locked the door. I saw her tightly clenched butt and the tiny bulge. She walked over and grabbed my crotch. “Maybe if I make you have an accident by cumming in your pants I can then go.” I nodded, agreeing to this game with little hesitation. She rubbed me through my pants for a minute before gasping. She turned around and I heard a fart as her bowels began to move. I saw a bulge grow, easily visible with leggings. She pressed her ass against me and I felt her mess grow against me as she pooped. The sensation was too much and as she finished pooping I came on the spot. She turned and grinned. “Good, now we’re both a mess. I’ll see you next class, professor… make sure I get an A.” She walked out, her wet and messy ass burned into my memory. SexyAhri, Jack Globus, Concensus and 3 others 5 1 Quote Link to comment
Melificentfan 1,215 Posted January 25, 2020 ✨ Legendary Member Share Posted January 25, 2020 Fabulous stories herrokitty 1 Quote Link to comment
ed2 153 Posted January 26, 2020 Share Posted January 26, 2020 Another amazing tale! herrokitty 1 Quote Link to comment
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