Linda and I returned yesterday from a 10 day tropical island vacation, a time of relaxation and the opportunity to reconnect. Our busy lives have kept us apart way too much lately and we found ourselves going in different directions too many times. So the vacation was much needed on many fronts. That being said, it was a pretty normal vacation in most every way, except for one little incident that happened on the plane.
Linda was reaching for something and accidently tipped over my very full glass of orange juice (I swear it was just orange juice!). The juice went right down the tray-table and onto my lap, soaking the seat cushion in the process. My crotch and butt were totally saturated in the process. And for some reason on this flight I decided to wear tan Dockers so the damage was very noticeable.
I saw this all happen so I know it really was an accident and Linda felt very bad about it and my condition. She apologized many times as she knew the embarrassment I was going to face getting off the plane in my present condition.
“When we get off the plane go into the restroom and use one of the blow dryers to dry your pants,” she suggested. I told her that it would not do much good without removing the pants so that the hot air could circulate through the material.
“Well then, remove your pants and use the dryer silly,” she giggled.
“Uhm, do you remember what panties I’m wearing today,” I said, reminding her of the very feminine lacy pair I had put on that morning.
“Oh, right,” she said as her face broke out in a grin. Her expression slowly turned mischievous as she then said “in that case I strongly suggest you do as you’re told. Give me everything in your pants now. When we get into the terminal go into the stall, remove your pants, and use the dryer until they are dry.”
The look on her face told me she was very serious. During the entire vacation we had done nothing to enforce our normal ‘wlm’ living condition so this was really coming from out of left field but I knew I had to do as she was telling me no matter how embarrassing it was going to be for me.
As we were leaving our seats she said loud enough so those around us could hear “oh, honey, it looks like you wet your pants. When we get in the terminal go into the restroom and dry those.”
Even the flight attendance gave me a quizzical look as I walked by. There was a restroom right by our gate so I gave her one last look hoping she would relent. Seeing her stern expression I knew I had to follow through.
I ducked into the last stall and removed my pants. Looking at the sexy white panty I had selected that morning I knew I was in for some major embarrassment. My shirt did not come close to covering my predicament, coming only to mid-panty high on my hip. I knew my lace covered ass would be on prominent display.
I swear every urinal and stall was in use with a line waiting as I stepped out of the stall and up to the blow dryer. Of course it was right in front of the mirror wall so everyone had a good look at me from both sides. I knew Linda would check so I had to make sure that the pants were dry before putting them back on. I must have stood there for 10 minutes continuing restarting the dryer until I was confident Linda would approve. One guy stood at the mirror silently starring at me for almost the full time. Another washed his hands, looked my way and offered “cute” before walking out.
The pants were fairly dry but the orange juice had left a telltale stain in the pants. Linda giggled as I emerged red-faced and flustered.
“Now that wasn’t so bad was it?” She snickered.
“I bet 30 guys saw me standing there like that,” I replied.
“I know. Several told their traveling companions about it as they came out. I heard a lot of ‘guess what I saw in there’ comments.” Linda took my arm as we walked to baggage claim. I noticed several glances and elbow nudges as we waited for your luggage.
As I’ve said many times, life is never dull with Linda around.
