Posted by Donnie C. on October 08, 2008 at 20:16 [71.179.38.234]
Here's an old story from 2000 that some of you may like!
Chapter 6
Posted by Brenda Ingersol on March 12, 2000
MEMORIES OF MY SPECIAL SECRET - STORY SIX
JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL
In the last chapter I mentioned going to live with my dad. The neat part of living with him was his life style. He was a strong and non-judgmental man. He loved to spend his free hours with sports, watching, that is. He would spend hours writing page after pager of number facts about each sport. How many home runs were hit, or how many touch downs were scored. He would drink allot, but wasn't a drunk. When he drank he would talk. He knew sports and he knew history and I eventually came to enjoy spending hours listening to him. Many times after I was done watching TV for the evening and had finished my chores I would be heading for my bedroom. It may have been ten o'clock at night but he would be laying on his bed reading and listening to the radio at the same time.
I would be walking down the hall and he would notice me. "Hey! Brenda." he would call out. I would stop and rest against his door jam. He would begin to recount some record of sports or history to me. Usually he went on for an hour or so. His stories were always interesting and rarely repetitive. I really loved that gentle and laid back man.
He never made any comments about my hobby, if he ever even found out or even cared. There were many times I would stand there in his door as he laid on his bed and talked and talked. I have actually stood there and messed my panties. My ready made excuse would have been, "I had to go and didn't want to be rude so I held it as long as I could." I never had to use it though. He never once questioned me or my friends. I wonder if mom ever told him about my hobby. I'll never know, he died in 1987. More about that later.
He did comment once about a friend on mine named Juanita. She was a Mexican-American girl who weighed a good two hundred pounds and was in my class at school. His comment was so totally confusing that I will never forget it. Now for the rest of my ninth grade story.
In the ninth grade I had P.E. at the start of the day. I took great pride in my appearance and wore only the best outfits. Daddy really spent lots of money on my school clothes. I even went to the beauty parlor, for my hair, every other week. I think dad wanted me to believe I looked good. He never had any comment other than "Wow! You look good, this morning, Sweety!" It was only a saying he used, a term of endearment, but he meant well and that meant love, my daddy!
At school I would look at other girls and wonder, like the commercial, "Does she or doesn't she? Only her hair dresser would know!" I felt so much alone. I had Mrs. Chapman's music class after lunch. I remember the day. It was early in the semester. I had eaten lunch in the cafeteria with a few friends I knew. Whatever we had was good as well as filling. When we were done we each went our separate way. I went to what we called the "field". It was between the music building, cafeteria and science buildings. About half an acre of trees and grass. I already had my books for the next classes and used that as an excuse to "study" in the shade and sitting in the grass. I was wearing a real cute black and white plaid skirt, with a white blouse and black tights. I wore my hair long in those days. I was wearing a short black half slip and a pair of black support panties on the outside of my tights. My panties though were white cotton, both pairs.
I sat down and pretended to arrange my books and skirt. Soon my skirt and slip were clear and I felt the great joy of fulfilling my major joy in life. As I held my book in hand I first let my bladder drain completely, every drop released. I remember the same feeling I have always felt, warm and naughty. It seems like it takes a long time to finish running and then dripping through. I then leaned off to one side and started to push. Within a few minutes I had also emptied my bowels into my panties and returned to the flat sitting position in the grass. I soon got up and strolled over to the music building to await the bell that would call us to class. I could feel the breeze blowing under my skirt and drying my wet and messy panties. It was very cold down there. I felt like such a sexy and naughty girl.
The bell rang and we all went into class. I went right to my seat and sat down. I discovered a long time ago that a "stinky bottom" can be muffled by sitting in a chair. I just wanted to be safe so I sat down. I sat on the right side of the class toward the back of the aisle. As the class came to order all students were now seated. Mrs. Chapman began her monologue. Five minutes later something strange happened. Two desks ahead of me and to my left across the aisle sat a girl named Mary Lou. She was of my build but had no class. She never wore make-up and it looked like she knew only one hair style, a confused pile on top. She always wore what looked like second hand "hand me downs". Old print dresses that never quite fit. Her shoes were way out of style and she was a nail bitter. I noticed she seemed to always wear nylons even though they had major runs in them. To put it mildly she was what we called "slums". Needless to say she was the brunt of many a crude joke. I would join in too. I, though, secretly felt sorry for her. It seemed like she was doing the best she could.
Five minutes into the class Mary Lou got up and made her way to the pencil sharpener located by the classroom door. It hit me as unusual that Mary Lou had chosen just then to sharpen her pencil. I mean, it wasn't like we were taking a test or anything. She spent several minutes grinding away on her pencil. Suddenly Mrs. Chapman turned and looked at Mary Lou with a form of contempt. She interrupted her monologue and announced; "Mary, will you stop that! Please go back to you seat or leave the room!" Leave the room, I thought. For what? To sharpen her pencil? Mary Lou sheepishly returned to her desk. Mrs. Chapman's musical monologue continued.
I once again felt sorry for Mary Lou, but why the hell did she bring this on herself? As I considered the reason, suddenly, a miracle: While Mrs. Champion bored a sleepy class, I day dreamed in the direction of a recently humiliated Mary Lou. It had been only three or four minutes since she returned to her seat. Mary Lou seemed now back to normal. As she looked at a distant Mrs. Chapman, she was shuffling through her papers and notebooks. She then relaxed and reached over her desk and grasped the front edge with both hands at the same time. With elbows on the desk she leaned forward and raised her bottom up off the seat. Her legs were still down at the front edge of the seat but her bottom was raised and she was leaning forward. She was visually fixed on Mrs. Chapman and didn't seem to care the image of her position. Oh my god. I have used that position before myself; this was my move. When I need to mess my pants at a weird but exciting time. Here I was, sitting on a major load myself, and what the hell was I about to witness? I must admit I was staring. As she held herself up I watched as her facial expression changed. Her lips tightened and she appeared to be straining. She reddened and then I saw her stomach muscles tighten as she worked. She spent over fifteen minutes doing whatever.
Damn it! This girl was copying my best secret move, I'm mean like she was sticking her tongue out at me. I got off! I blasted in my already soiled panties. I looked up and saw her straining and blasted again. Mary was oblivious to everything around her and it looked like she was messing her pants too! She worked at it too! Midway through the class she relaxed and sat back down and it was like nothing had ever happened. "Did I just dream this or did it really happen?" I was hot and confused.
I have no idea what Mrs. Chapman talked about, all's I cared about was what the hell I had just seen. Mary Lou had just used one of my moves and didn't give a damn if anyone cared. I would have gambled my life on what I had seen. As the bell rang we were all dismissed to our last class. I wanted so bad to sneak up on Mary in the confusion of leaving the room to feel her bottom, but I chickened out.
Sixth period was a blur as I waited for the bell. I needed to make a "Bee Line" to Mary's locker which was near mine. I needed to have a conversation with her. I was sure of what I had seen, been there and done that! Sure enough after a few minutes Mary was at her locker. As I looked at her back and bottom she somehow seemed different. She seemed happy. She was alone, no one was with her but she was smiling.
As she closed her locker door I walked up to her. Nervously I told her I would love to talk to her. Suddenly she wasn't the "Slum". "I know you, Brenda!" she whispered. I got scared. You mean she knows I'm standing here right now with a massive load in my panties? I must admit the thought turned me on. But then again, I am sure she has a load in her panties too. She then told me that we share fifth period Music. I confirmed her comment. I waited, nothing. "I noticed today Mrs. Chapman came down on you." I told her. "Yea." she answered. "She hates me," she concluded. I asked her why and got no answer. I asked her if I could walk with her and she said it was OK. As we headed for the gate she asked me how I knew where she lived and I told her I have seen her on the walk home.
As we walked we talked. She was so cute. I suggested we stop in at the library for a while since I knew we were only a block or two from her house. She glanced at her watch and said it would be OK. I felt under her power from the first moment. She had seemed like such a quiet laid back "slum" girl. Suddenly, because I was hot, she now pulled all strings. Besides, she wasn't the laid back, humble, and quiet "slum" that everyone in school knew her as.
We went into the library. She told me that she liked the library. On the second floor she asked me to join her in an aisle and I agreed. We were alone. "Brenda, do what you need to do, please!" she whispered and then turned her head. She turned her back on me and stood there. I took a deep breath and looked around. No one was in view. I reached down with my right hand and pressed my hand against Mary's bottom. I was shocked. Damn! I couldn't tell anything. "Fuck" I muttered. Mary Lou giggled. "Let me help," she whispered. With that she looked over her shoulder past me and then straight ahead. With both hands working in harmony she lifted her dress and slip, exposing very dirty and very loaded panties contained within a pair of nylon shorts that I learned later were called "petti pants".
I was surprised. I blasted and then felt weak. "Can I check you out?" she asked. I told her I didn't really care and she went to work. She gently turned me around and once my back was toward her I felt my skirt being raised. I felt her hand rubbing my bottom. She had found pay dirt and was rubbing away. She reached between my legs and rubbed my front. I let go and wet and she stayed softly rubbing until I was done. She kissed the back of my neck and I quietly apologized. She took control and spun me around. With a blank look on her face she grabbed my arm and thrust my hand under her skirt. I felt her shorts and then total wetness. That was the first time I saw her show emotion. She was peeing into my hand. As she ended her eyes rolled back and she bucked several times. "Damn it, I just got off!" she informed me.
All's I really remember of that first meeting was the fact that we were both very messy and we both peed into each other’s hands on the carpeting of the library. She kissed me and the next day I kissed her.