Home > Entertainment, Urination > The Ultimate Taboo – Adult Urination of the Bed

The Ultimate Taboo – Adult Urination of the Bed

Crapping-your-pants stories are a dime a dozen.  Nearly everyone had shatted their pants at least once as an adult, whether that came from a fart gone bad to diarrhea in a time when the toilet was not accessible.  Sometimes you just don’t make it to the toilet in time and you crap your pants.  The stories are always hilarious and they are rarely kept a secret from others.  This is not the case with wetting your bed.

I can understand the reason for the shame.  Think about the difference.  It’s not like you get diarrhea of the bladder and suddenly start pissing everywhere without control.  Additionally, if you can’t find a bathroom you can just drop a squat or whip it out and urinate behind a bush or something.  No harm done, no messy clean up.  So if an adult wets the bed, well, that is something to hide.  I know…from experience.  Several years ago I was staying at a friend’s house with my brother.  My friend only had one bedroom and one bed, so my brother and I had to draw straws for the couch.  He won, so I was left with the choice of sleeping on the floor or on the bed with my friend and his spouse.  I chose the bed.  I’m a horrible sleeper and new the weekend would be hell without a mattress to sleep on.

As I was sleeping, I began having a dream that I was standing in the middle of a crowded street.  In the center of an intersection was a manhole with no cover.  In the dream I had to pee, so I asked a passerby where I could find a bathroom.  He suggested I try to arc my urine as far as I could into the intersection and through the manhole.  Taking him up on that challenge, I unzipped, aimed and began urinating warm piss in a gigantic arc towards the manhole.

Wait…warm?  You don’t feel temperature in dreams.

I immediately snapped out of the dream, only to find myself pissing directly up onto my stomach.  I immediately kinked the flow (very painful) and rolled off the bed onto the floor.  I paused for a minute to see if my friend or wife stirred, but they continued to breathe quietly.  I slowly reached up my hand and felt the bed for wetness.  A Miracle!  No piss on the bed!  My shirt and shorts had soaked it up and I had retreated quickly enough to save their mattress.  I proceeded to army crawl into their bathroom, get naked and throw all my clothes in the trash, army crawl into the living room by my sleeping brother to get new clothes, and army crawl back into bed.  The perfect crime.

I was ashamed.  How had my mental switch been triggered to allow urine flow without waking me up?  I didn’t know, but I wasn’t telling anyone about it.  After a year or two I finally decided that time had passed, and what did I have to be ashamed of?  I told my whole family during Christmas, expecting a warm reception of love and understanding and laughter.

You know what I learned?  Keep your pee-your-pants stories to yourself.

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