Oops i pooped my panties-Oops I Pooped My Panties Videos - Free Porn Videos

Welcome to Oops I shit myself! If you've just shit your pants, for god's sake, clean yourself up! Vote: Yeah! But after you get back, tell us all about it to the right Me and my friends made some stupid bets and I managed to win all of them.

Oops i pooped my panties

Oops i pooped my panties

Oops i pooped my panties

Oops i pooped my panties

A testament to those happy, lucky few that dared Oops i pooped my panties dream and lived to experience the delicate embrace of my underwear. She held them in her hands, looked at them for half Boy caught story wanking second, then without a fuss or so much as a word or a look, went and rid me of them once and for all. It will serve as a memoir of those plops destined to escape the standard fate of their nameless brothers. My brow begins to perspire. The fire sizzled. One inadvertent clench of my butt cheeks, and I was done for.

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Asker's rating. I adjusted my tight thick panties over my bum and crotch. Part II About 2 weeks or so later I had Oops i pooped my panties a thin pull-up diaper from planned parenthood and wore it out under my skinny jeans. Are you Celebrity copyright violation you want to delete this answer? Source s : I'm Philip J's girlfriend. It was pretty funny but embarrassing for the boy I think. Shit yourself? She tries to make light of it by singing? That's funny! I thought since I was alone upstairs and the large comforter Oops i pooped my panties mask the smell, I would just go right there laying down. There was a small wet line on the front now but it was so small it looked like a piece of hair. Mommies, have you seen this list?

You know who you are.

  • Oops I pooped.
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You know who you are. You just bundled up that grubby little memory with your soiled undies and disposed of it. It will serve as a memoir of those plops destined to escape the standard fate of their nameless brothers. A testament to those happy, lucky few that dared to dream and lived to experience the delicate embrace of my underwear.

A true coming-of-age story of intestinal insubordination and colonic revolt. A tale of bowels who refused to bow down to societal pressure or the will of their master.

I must have been 13 or so, and a relative novice in the undie-sullying game. My little brother Jake and I were strolling home from school, chatting away, blissfully unaware of the punishing trial being plotted by my colon.

As we began to climb the steep incline that led to our family home, my gut began to shift slowly and uncomfortably like a drunk driver stirring in a drunk tank. I was young, arrogant, and headstrong. In as few as four careless strides, things went from manageable to bad to worse. It was coming. My face turned as white as a squash enthusiast.

I deployed preventative tensing measures, but the dark forces were mounting—the outer chamber had been breached. I masked my discomfort as best I could, but close as we are, Jake saw a change in me. He knew something was up. It peeked out.

One inadvertent clench of my butt cheeks, and I was done for. There was still a good feet until we reached home. Like a weary gunslinger, I waddled bravely on. Not really appreciating the severity of the situation, he laughed and began shadowboxing inches from my troubled gut. A flinch triggered an involuntary squeeze.

The turtle was beheaded. As I was wearing those old-school baggy grandpa boxers, there was no safety net. I tried to play it off. I felt it bounce and trail stodgily down my hamstring like a slug in the breeze. Then with a stealthy flick of my school pants, my poop was liberated.

Beaming complacently up at me was a perfectly spherical, meatball-sized ball of phosphorus orange dung. Oh, how it glowed. A group of us were getting drunk, gathered around a bonfire in my yard. In an effort to mark out the celebration from merging into the dateless mishmash of forgettable piss-ups, we played Edward Fortyhands : competitors must duct tape a ounce of malt liquor to each palm and the first to drain both wins.

As an overweight, alcoholically-ambidextrous urinal personality, with terrible circulation and a can-do attitude, I was odds-on favorite. A shart, as stealthy as it was soggy, slipped under the radar of my ever-faltering warning system; it was an un-ignorable, but not devastating, quantity. Still, my years of field experience told me: this ain't over. While the others prodded the fire and joked, I hovered, weighing up my options. An unscheduled pit stop could jeopardize my title hopes.

Laughter and revolted surprise rang out. No one saw that shit coming. One witness let rip a manic cackle, only to have his laughter muffled in his throat by an eruption of upchuck, as if he were chuckling at his own drowning.

The fire sizzled. I bowed deeply, then nimbly began the operation of using newspaper and my boozy prosthetics to cleanse my asshole. I finished drinking my bottle first. I was the victor, but at what cost? The next day I did think to myself, Fucking hell, Sam.

That morning, I made a vow never to shit on an open fire again. When I was about 10, my family would vacation at a postcard-perfect campsite on a cliff overlooking the sea in the south of France. One night, I awoke with seafood coming back to life in my stomach. The urgency of the situation was obvious.

I whipped on a T-shirt and some stripey briefs, then scrambled for some toilet paper and made a break through the pitch black campsite towards the distant glow of the communal toilet. As I bolted between tents, my gut performed lumbering somersaults.

With my focus occupied on the psychic strain of compressing my internal sphincters, my foot caught on the tent, and I hit the deck hard. On impact, I instantly shit my pants. The remainder of the walk was a slow, teary, squelchy one. My tighty-formerly-whities were bulging and hemorrhaging spurts of poop. An inspection showed the tide of sludge had coated my little baby dick brown. I mopped myself up, cried, and scrunched up my tainted pantaloons.

Disposing of the trace evidence was crucial. I bombed back to my tent and shotput-tossed the contaminated undies over the cliff and into the darkness. The perfect crime. I awoke to my mum's humming, as she hung out the washing on the makeshift line between our tent and the chain link fence that separated us from the cliff face.

To my horror, I spotted my undead briefs glaring back at me, dangling smugly from a bush in plain sight. The fuckers had come back to haunt me. She held them in her hands, looked at them for half a second, then without a fuss or so much as a word or a look, went and rid me of them once and for all.

I was hosting a house party in college and everything was going swimmingly. People were saying things like "nice party," and I was saying things like "thanks. It tends to transform me into a hunched, jittery, jabbering gorilla, wrestling my wayward motor functions. Not wanting to be a wet, ungrateful blanket, I accepted, despite the line looking a tad adventurous. In the toilet, I dwelled on an intriguing tile and promptly forgot the purpose of my visit. As I left, with mind elsewhere, my sworn enemy—the shart—crept out of me from behind.

Fuck , I thought. Then, realizing the potential of a steaming pant-full for weirding someone out, I reconsidered. I locked eyes with some smooth guy who was peddling coke, casually leaning on a wall. The kind of dude that just reclines, expression icy blank, nonchalantly soaking the party in, as if any proactive involvement in a party, or even a smile, would irretrievably fuck up their laid-back persona. Like, loads. Trust me!

An absence of toilet paper had me hobbling through the party and up to the third floor. To conceal my discomfort, I forced a bob to the music as unnatural and wooden as a private school boy at his first rave. I tensely negotiated meets and greets, hastily excusing myself before the stench had a chance to hit. The lack of a functioning light bulb had me washing up blind, adding another unwelcome layer of difficulty to an already gloomy and confusing process. And in the end, I drunkenly blabbed to enough people in confidence that word of my classified incident became common knowledge.

A stale, moderately-stabby house party led me and my friend to abandon ship for our unavoidable, regular dancing destination. We were good and drunk and pretty drugged up, but nowhere near enough to justify the events that unfolded in my pants.

While pon de floor , it dawned on me that I needed to drop the kids off, so I cut through the crowd and headed for the toilet. Upon finding it closed, I just shrugged and forgot about it, since there was dancing to be had. Another bomb of molly had us laying siege to the dance floor, and we set about getting our vigorous fucked-up wiggle on.

The tunes were ringing out. I was adrift in the wonder of my own tingly, squirming enjoyment before coming to and slowly becoming aware of a separate, less tingly warmth residing in my butt crack. Fortunately kind of , I was drugged beyond the point of giving a shit.

With no toilet available, I just continued throwing it down, limiting my range of hip motion and trademark footwork to preserve my fragile, unwanted gift. There was a lot of compensatory fist-pumping in play. About an hour later, the night came to a halt. His long-range threats allowed us to begin soothing him from afar with apologetic gesturing and pilled-up earnestness. We shrewdly managed to dodge a beatdown, under the condition we fucked off immediately, without our wine.

And once again our panicky repenting managed to cool him, this time playing my ace in the hole, wheeling out the trusty shitty-pants card. I really, really could do with that drink. I mean, please, my pants are full of shit, as we speak. He shot down my pleas, showing little to no sympathy to my shitty predicament. I tried to sneak back one final time and upon hearing his murderous boom, we figured it was time to run. In our bulging eyes, the night was still young.

And you need to come here to be told to clean up and change? This happened to a guy in my second grade class. Still laying on my stomach hugging my pillow, I held it in How often do you get a doctor's check-up? Such a philp J question. How often do you shower? My jeans were a little bulged at the crotch by then but it was only something I knew, and while I was in the bathroom stall about to check if I leaked, I grabbed ahold of my bulged crotch over my jeans and felt all the pee-pee going up my clit, butt and waistband of my diaper, but no leak yet.

Oops i pooped my panties

Oops i pooped my panties

Oops i pooped my panties

Oops i pooped my panties

Oops i pooped my panties. Pagination

I guess she liked it too much one day and farted in class and messed her pants with cabbage poop. She also used to have a pet rabbit and they sometimes eat their poop. She refused to eat cocoa puffs after that. As far as I know, clams and oysters are water filters and eat poop floating in the water.

So much for bottom feeders. Source s : I'm Philip J's girlfriend. I had to go really bad last night and I had a dream that I accidentally my whole pants. Poop is funny. Lol, nice one. Star for you. Keep up the funny work. Why Yahoo Answers don't delete this kind of questions at all! And you need to come here to be told to clean up and change? Such a philp J question. Pagination 1. Existing questions. Related Questions Passing gas?? Have you ever passed gas at a funeral service and tried to blame it on the body?

Survey: Is it wrong to refer to another man as a pair of crotchless panties? I have a rude coworker that constantly is passing gas.

She tries to make light of it by singing? Mommies, have you seen this list? Answer Questions What's the first thing that comes to your mind, when you hear the word 'philosophy'? Who is your favorite Indian ho? How often you feel hangry? If you were a Superhero? How often do you shower? How do you like your pancakes? Feeling horny from going poop I pulled down my undies and spraid pee-pee up into the covers, the quiet 'weeeeeeeee' sound echoed under the cover as the thin stream of pee sprayed up onto the white comforter then splashed down onto my already soaked stomach, drribling down under my load of poop.

It caused another small puddle under my bum on the mattress. The strong smell of pee and poo wafted as I lowered my hips back down, crushing the huge mound of poop under my butt and smashing some poop up the slit of my vagina in my stretched underwear, forming a bulge up in front as well. I fell back asleep instantly, never even getting up from my bed until the morning.

When I woke up I cleaned up, opened the window and sprayed lysol in the air like nothing even happened. As I was brushing my teeth with the running water, to save water I cocked my hips forward over the sink and went morning wee-wee standing up, pulling back the hood of my clitoris to feel the piss whisk from my clit down the sink drain in a yellow bubbling puddle as I finished brushing. I quickly turned the sink off wiped and got ready. I didn't even use the toilet for days, but thought nobody would care or notice.

Part II About 2 weeks or so later I had stolen a thin pull-up diaper from planned parenthood and wore it out under my skinny jeans. I walked around the mall shopping for clothes and while I was looking in GAP, I started going spurts of peepee. I was looking in the mirror with a bra placed over my chest pretending to be fitting but I was really leaning somewhat backward looking down at my crotch swelling with piss and crinkling slightly inside my jeans.

For some reason I'm guessing by the way the diaper was pressed up on my pussy lip it made my pee stream shoot up sideways in my diaper so I heard a pronounced hiss as I walked by the fitting rooms and felt pee forcing up on the left of my thigh trickling down the front and side as I continued walking.

It was so loud that the hiss echoed off the wall I was walking near. I put the bra back on the rack, walking out of the store going weewee. I went the rest of my weewee on the lower level standing in line at Starbucks and began to smell piss by the time I ordered but very faint so nobody noticed.

My jeans were a little bulged at the crotch by then but it was only something I knew, and while I was in the bathroom stall about to check if I leaked, I grabbed ahold of my bulged crotch over my jeans and felt all the pee-pee going up my clit, butt and waistband of my diaper, but no leak yet.

I peed my entire bladder while walking through the mall and felt it sloshing around in the diaper as I walked outside and left with my coffee and bag.

As I sat in my car i felt the absorbent crystals crush up around my ass and pussy. There was a small wet line on the front now but it was so small it looked like a piece of hair. Part III As I was pumping fuel into my car on my way back from the mall I started to go poop in the same diaper because my stomach ached from the pressure. I pushed really hard and grunted while walking across the gas station lot, crossing paths with someone walking out to go inside and buy a pack of gum.

My skinny jeans were really tight over my diaper since the crystals were already expanded with yellow pee-pee, so walkin Vote: Yeah!

Oops I Shit Myself!

Vote: Yeah! I was wearing cotton panties and pajama shorts pulled up snug around my waist. I thought since I was alone upstairs and the large comforter would mask the smell, I would just go right there laying down. The mattress had a plastic sheet on it so I knew it would be fine. I adjusted my tight thick panties over my bum and crotch. I lifted my pelvis about an inch off the bed and as I did, a high pitched 'weeeeeeeeeee' began hissing softly under the covers as I felt peepee trickle up off my clit, spraying and flooding my panties all the way up to my stomach.

It was a really strong pee as I smelt it even as I buried my face deep in my pillow. I continued relieving myself, pressing my bum and clit down and peed harder into the mattress, the wee sound getting softer and a puddle growing under the covers.

I tried getting comfortable to go number 2 so I moved up on my knees then back down again. It felt really warm and I got a really strong whiff of piss as I pulled the covers further up over my back, snuggling and closing my eyes like nothing even happened.

I felt the strong urge to poop now so I began humping down slightly and spread my legs wider. Still laying on my stomach hugging my pillow, I held it in I spread my legs all the way and began smelling a hint of poo under the covers.

It was going to be a big load, I could feel it coming down I closed my eyes tight and raised my bum a little off, feeling my wet panties stick to my clit. It started to fall down into my crotch lips as I continued pushing down hard and going. I was alone upstairs for the weekend so I knew nobody would see or smell. As I did this, the doodie cracked as it forced and mounded up around and under my ass. I felt the heavy load between my crotch and butt as I nestled and got comfortable under the covers.

I started going soft poo over the bulge so I turned over and laid on my back, lifting up my pelvis to push the rest out half asleep. Feeling horny from going poop I pulled down my undies and spraid pee-pee up into the covers, the quiet 'weeeeeeeee' sound echoed under the cover as the thin stream of pee sprayed up onto the white comforter then splashed down onto my already soaked stomach, drribling down under my load of poop.

It caused another small puddle under my bum on the mattress. The strong smell of pee and poo wafted as I lowered my hips back down, crushing the huge mound of poop under my butt and smashing some poop up the slit of my vagina in my stretched underwear, forming a bulge up in front as well.

I fell back asleep instantly, never even getting up from my bed until the morning. When I woke up I cleaned up, opened the window and sprayed lysol in the air like nothing even happened. As I was brushing my teeth with the running water, to save water I cocked my hips forward over the sink and went morning wee-wee standing up, pulling back the hood of my clitoris to feel the piss whisk from my clit down the sink drain in a yellow bubbling puddle as I finished brushing.

I quickly turned the sink off wiped and got ready. I didn't even use the toilet for days, but thought nobody would care or notice. Part II About 2 weeks or so later I had stolen a thin pull-up diaper from planned parenthood and wore it out under my skinny jeans. I walked around the mall shopping for clothes and while I was looking in GAP, I started going spurts of peepee. I was looking in the mirror with a bra placed over my chest pretending to be fitting but I was really leaning somewhat backward looking down at my crotch swelling with piss and crinkling slightly inside my jeans.

For some reason I'm guessing by the way the diaper was pressed up on my pussy lip it made my pee stream shoot up sideways in my diaper so I heard a pronounced hiss as I walked by the fitting rooms and felt pee forcing up on the left of my thigh trickling down the front and side as I continued walking. It was so loud that the hiss echoed off the wall I was walking near. I put the bra back on the rack, walking out of the store going weewee.

I went the rest of my weewee on the lower level standing in line at Starbucks and began to smell piss by the time I ordered but very faint so nobody noticed.

My jeans were a little bulged at the crotch by then but it was only something I knew, and while I was in the bathroom stall about to check if I leaked, I grabbed ahold of my bulged crotch over my jeans and felt all the pee-pee going up my clit, butt and waistband of my diaper, but no leak yet. I peed my entire bladder while walking through the mall and felt it sloshing around in the diaper as I walked outside and left with my coffee and bag. As I sat in my car i felt the absorbent crystals crush up around my ass and pussy.

There was a small wet line on the front now but it was so small it looked like a piece of hair. Part III As I was pumping fuel into my car on my way back from the mall I started to go poop in the same diaper because my stomach ached from the pressure.

I pushed really hard and grunted while walking across the gas station lot, crossing paths with someone walking out to go inside and buy a pack of gum. My skinny jeans were really tight over my diaper since the crystals were already expanded with yellow pee-pee, so walkin Vote: Yeah! Tell the world your story Submit your best "Oops I Shit Myself" story! Shit yourself?

Oops i pooped my panties