I Wet Myself On A Boy Scout Camping TripWhen I was 15, in the 9th grade, I joined the Boy Scouts. It was an okay group, but I wasn't getting much out of it until I had my first experience of a camping trip. We were all to wear our Boy Scout shorts, which were khaki, and very tight fitting. Also we had to wear short-sleeve Boy Scout shirts, most of which barely tucked into our shorts (the uniform was for picture taking before the trip. It started on Friday, and would end on Sunday. We each had backpacks with spare clothing, toothbrushes, etc. The leader had a little wagon where he put the cooking supplies, etc. We were walking on a asphalt trail, so the wagon went along smoothly.
After half an hour, I suggested that we rest, but the leader said "No!" and that we had to continue for another 1/2 hour. I said I had to pee, but he told me to hold it. Well, I couldn't, and pretty soon the boy behind me asked me if I was ******* my shorts, and I said yes. Word went down the line to the boys behind me, and it turned out that two boys had wet themselves as well
After about an hour we came to a big clearing along side a river, and the leader said this was were we would camp for the night. By this time it was about 3 pm, in September, and we were all happy to stop here. However, the leader noticed not only my wet shorts, but the wet shorts of four other boys, out of 15 on the trip, so 1/3 of us couldn't hold our bladders for 1 hour. That wasn't surprising since the leader, Brian, told us to "hydrate ourselves" before starting out, so drinking about 2 bottles of water apiece did the trick for some of us!
When Brian asked us to line up, and he was counting the wet khaki shorts that five of us were wearing, two boys also had to take a ****, and did it right there standing in line. We could tell by the grunting sound, the smell, and in one case, the boy's ****, really big, fell out of the leg opening of his shorts onto the ground, a turd about eight inches long! Some of the other boys said "Eeew" and Brian tried to gain control by telling us who wet ourselves to take our hiking boots off and wade into the river, to clean up. He made the boy who laid the **** to pick it up with leaves, and bury it somewhere, then join tthe rest of us in the river. We pulled our shirts off, and our tight khaki shorts, and briefs, and rinsed everything out in the river.
The other boys started to put up tents (from the wagon and our backpacks) and gather the cooking supplies and built a fire. A couple of scouts helped us rinse out our clothing and hang them up on a makeshift clothesline. We of course emerged nude from the stream and rushed to our backbacks for towels, then put on speedos or cutoff jeans (most were very tight). Brian then trained us how to build a latrine, and to use it for ******** and *******. He said that ******* ourselves during a hike wasn't cool. I certainly agreed because hiking in ****-soaked shorts definitely irritated my crotch and legs.
During supper, Brian told us to pick "roommates" for the tents that night, and fortunately, everyone seemed to get someone that was okay to the other. Most didn't seem to care who they had. My eyes were on Peter, a blond and blue-eyed kid who was one of the ones who wet himself. When the time came for picking roommates, our eyes locked, and I knew we were going to have a wonderful night!