Jump to content

Being a good house husband


Recommended Posts

For many, many years I've been in that routine of commuting to the office five days a week.  Often as I'm driving along or cycling, I'd see ladies out walking dogs, jogging, walking kids to school and generally going about their lives.  There've been times where my mind has wandered and I've found myself wondering what happens behind the closed doors. How much naughty 'me' time these ladies enjoy before telling their husbands how busy their chores have kept them.

Now with the pandemic roles have changed somewhat. My wife works in a role which has kept her commuting to the office throughout and I'm working in significant part from home. So only right I've been keeping up with the chores instead.

This morning for example, I got up at normal time and logged in on my work laptop, checking emails.  Made my wife her preferred instant coffee and put my moka pot onto the hob. It makes a few cups of strong espresso, so I pour myself a double and top up with boiling water (what us Brits call an Americano). The other couple of cups go into a thermal cup with more hot water. Then whilst in the kitchen put a load of bedding into the washing machine,  start the dishwasher, that sort of thing.

After kissing my wife and watching her drive off to work it's back upstairs to my study. Checking over emails, starting a technical assessment document and sipping at the coffee. I do love the hit of caffeine as it wakes up the brain with a little tingle.  As well as the coffee I also had a pint glass of orange cordial on my desk and glugged away at that.  By about 10am I was ready for my next caffeine hit (yes I am an addict to that, amongst other things) and started sipping away at the second coffee which had cooled enough to drink fairly quickly. That topped up the caffeine buzz just perfectly - I do love that gentle feeling and somehow always feel just an edge of horniness from it too.

A few more minutes of typing away and trying to form the right phrasing, and my concentration was broken by a distant beep, the washing machine had finished its cycle. It's a nice day for drying outdoors, and I didn't need much excuse for distraction so headed downstairs.  On my way I stopped to brush my teeth, and it was that point that the need to pee suddenly hit.  That is one side effect caffeine has on me, but I decided to wait it out for a bit longer.

Standing infront of the mirror, still in my dressing gown I was definitely squirming. The caffeine thing means I don't so much have that fulness going on in my bladder - it's just straight to the final stages of holding with lots of clenching and squeezing together.  It's also partly psychological I'm sure, because I know it will ease off for a time.

Sure enough as I closed off the tap the urge subsided slightly. Of course I had been standing right next to the toilet, in front of a sink on a tiled floor and also next to the tub. The possibilities were all around, but I was happy to hold.

In the utility room then, and I dropped my dressing gown on the floor, throwing on a clean T shirt and picking up a pair of jeans from the pile waiting to go into the next wash. Pulling the jeans on they felt comfortable, tight and slightly stretchy and it was a surprise to find the button and zip on the wrong side. What an innocent mistake to have pulled on a pair of my wife's jeans.

Maybe the thought was already in my mind, maybe it was wearing ladies' jeans, but my mind was instantly filled with thoughts of housewives returning from the shops, from coffee with the girls, from dog walking with desperately full bladders or maybe even damp panties. Deliberately forcing themselves to hold or maybe just resigning themselves to the inevitable. (Sorry fans of guys wetting - ignore that paragraph, it's just what drives me).

So, wearing the jeans and T shirt I pulled on a pair of old canvas trainers and emptied the washing into a basket before taking it into the back garden. The sun was shining, but also a cool breeze making me shiver slightly and clench together again. The drop in temperature of the outdoors and maybe the waist band of the jeans definitely had an effect on my bladder, pushing me back to the bursting to wee stage.

I imagined again my predicament as a desperate housewife, picking up and starting to peg out the washing.  Moving about helped with the desperation of course, but any moment of standing still it was back with a vengeance.  Several times I had that feeling where you can sense exactly where the urine is up to, almost feeling it at the very tip of my penis.

At this stage I was in that mixed feeling between aching clenched muscles and still the nice feeling of holding. As I stretched upwards to put a duvet on the washing line without it dragging on the grass below I felt the first leak, a dampening around my crotch. Another leak as I pegged a sheet out. This time feeling a rivulet down my left inside thigh to my knee.  I looked down and could just see the faintest dark line on the denim marking it's travel.  That sight of a wet rivulet down a shapely leg is one of the things that drives me wild on a photo and in real life wasn't far off either.

With just the single leak I'd reached the end of pegging out the washing and stood for a moment on the grass, feeling the sun and the cool breeze. There are a few houses about but sheltered by trees and also the washing I'd just put out made quite a screen too.

So at that point after checking around and facing towards the house, I gently let go of my clenched bladder. The effect wasn't instant, I guess holding whilst clothed is fairly instinctive and I almost had to push, but a further trickle led to a slow but steady stream tracking down my left leg. I could feel the denim around my crotch getting deliciously warm and a steady flow tracking right down my left leg.

The flow probably didn't carry on for too long, certainly the jeans had a saturated strip maybe three inches long down the full length of the leg and a warm damp patch all around the crotch by the time I went inside.

Those jeans are now in the washing machine, I'm back in my study finishing typing away.  Clearly the housewife pee outside didn't empty my bladder, as there's now a full pint glass on the desk in front of me of light yellow liquid which isn't orange squash.  Well, some of it could be.

 

Maybe I may even get brave enough to take a few photos next time I do some laundry.

  • Like 3
  • Love 1
Link to post

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Restore formatting

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

×
×
  • Create New...