Either the Girl Goes or I Do

After the pornography ban went into effect, life began changing rapidly for the people of Clarksburg. Many of the men had initially been very vocal in their support of the new government, and of its plans for internet regulation in particular, but were surprised by the impact that it had on them personally once those plans were in full force.

Many had envisioned it as the start of a new era in which marital sex was recognized as a natural right and “liberated” views of sexuality didn’t interfere with expressions of their plain and natural male impulses. Cracking down on porn, they reasoned, would help society to rid itself of the perverts while encouraging young people to pair up and confine their sexual activity to stable households as God intended.

Many were shocked to find that the enforcement of those restrictions was so draconian – or that it was enforced on them at all.

“I can’t believe they took away all the porn,” Gareth said quietly to his neighbor one evening, in between sips of beer on his front porch. “I feel like they lost sight of why we all voted for them. Get rid of all that gay shit, sure. But you can’t even watch a natural-born man and woman doin’ it missionary style, anymore. It’s ridiculous!”

“It’s un-American, is what it is,” Bill agreed.

“You got that right. And this new morality police? Really overstepping their authority, I’d say. I think we all gave ‘em a round of applause when they raided that BDSM parlor. And we mostly understood that the local strip club had to go.”

“They got enough of my money, anyway,” Bill laughed.

“But my buddy Matt… The other day he got a visit from them at work because he had an old pinup photo on the inside of his locker. She wasn’t even fully nude and it’s an all-male locker room…”

“At least we can be sure of that now,” Bill interjected, extending his beer bottle toward Gareth so they could clink their necks together.

“True. But still, they took him into the breakroom in the middle of the workday and gave him some kinda line about ‘public decency’ and told him to take it down. They even made him sign a letter saying he’s sorry and warned him that if they visit him again, he’ll have to go for a reeducation course.”

“Damn.”

“And you know the worst part?” Gareth asked, looking his friend squarely in the face.

“What?”

“The officer who told him all this was a chick.”

“Shit,” Bill replied, slumping further down in his chair and shaking his head. “I thought we got rid of all that DEI bullshit.”

“Right? I’m thinking I should write a letter or something. This ain’t what any of us signed up for.”

Inwardly, each man acknowledged that this was an understatement, but neither was comfortable enough with the other to articulate precisely why. While the pornography ban was a bitter pill to swallow, the real surprise for most of its erstwhile supporters was the impact that it had – or didn’t have – on their sex lives at home.

The sudden inaccessibility of masturbatory aids led many of Clarksburg’s men to attempt initiating sex with their wives and girlfriends much more frequently and in much less convenient circumstances. Far from entering into Golden Age of regimented procreation, countless men found themselves instead coping with the humiliation of being repeatedly rebuffed in their horniness, and left trying in vain to get themselves off with the aid of nothing other than their imaginations, which had either never developed or atrophied in the presence of abundant and freely accessible porn.

In their frustration, many of those men resorted to begging, and many of their women responded by hardening their resistance, with some even shutting their husbands out of their marital bedroom altogether and forcing them to sleep in adjacent rooms.

Gareth was among those unfortunates, and though he didn’t know it, the walls of their home were thin enough that his wife Stacy was able to listen in most nights while he writhed around on the twin bed, whimpering as he tried to force himself to get hard enough for a proper orgasm.

Ironically, those sounds from the guest room had the opposite effect on Stacy as had Gareth’s begging, and she found herself getting wet while she pictured him there, falling asleep after failing to get over the finish line, much as she’d been forced to do in the past, almost every time she gave into his entreaties for sex.

Stacy had never been one for self-pleasure, but the ban on pornography ended up gifting her more orgasms in a month than she had had in the previous five years of marriage. Of course, she had to clamp a pillow over her mouth to stifle the sound of her ecstasy each time, lest she let on to her husband that she was actually fulfilling her sexual needs, as opposed to not experiencing them in the first place.

Stacy was much more willing to discuss the new situation with her female friends than with her husband, and she was quick to find that others were having remarkably similar experiences. It became a favored topic of conversation at book club meetings and weekend brunches, and in many cases, it reinforced the women’s commitment to keeping their frustrated partners at arm’s length. In fact, some who had previously given into those partners’ appeals were inspired to withhold sex more often, and some found that their experiments in teasing and denial gave them more of a thrill than their men ever had.

Those men, on the other hand, were more reticent to discuss what many perceived as a failure to master their own desire or to inspire passion in their women. Eventually, though, as imaginations kept failing and enforcement of the ban only intensified, more and more men began whispering about how they could circumvent it. VPN usage skyrocketed in Clarksburg, only to be systematically discovered and shut down by the authorities. This usually happened quietly, and some of the town’s men discovered new depths of frustration when, after being brushed off by their wives again, they went online expecting illicit porn, only to be greeted by a page stating that all their favored sites were not accessible.

Finally, the men resorted to methods that they knew about only through stories from their fathers and grandfathers. No one was sure exactly who started it or where they came from, but in the woods on the edge of town, a collection began to grow. Those men who knew of its location were empowered to swear their friends to secrecy and lead them to the hollow log, loosely covered by brush, inside which were old magazines that had survived the initial raids and bonfires, as well as new, black-market materials that someone had managed to smuggle in from outside the country.

The log technically functioned as a lending library. When new men were brought into the fold, they were informed that they could take one item home at a time and return it after they were finished using it. But few were willing to take the risk. Instead, they worked to coordinate a loose schedule among themselves, so individual users could have enough time there alone to sift through the materials, carry one of them a safe distance away, and go to town on himself before kicking dirt over his load and slinking back home with a newfound lightness of spirt and hoping that his wife would appreciate it without questioning it very much,

Gareth eventually became so comfortable with the arrangement that he nearly forgot his earlier grievances about the overbroad restrictions and the haughty morality police. Masturbation became nearly as routine as it had been before the ban went into effect, though now it was necessarily paired with long walks in the woods which he explained to his wife – accurately enough – as being intended to safeguard his health and peace of mind.

Stacy accepted this and didn’t even consider the possibility that her husband was going away two or three times a week to jack off outdoors. Though she was disappointed at no longer being lulled to sleep by the sound of him trying to get himself off in the guest room, she gave him credit for seemingly getting his desires under control, and even welcomed him back into the master bedroom as a reward.

“Don’t get too comfortable, though,” she cautioned the first night. “If you start humping my leg before I say I’m ready to have some fun, we’re going right back to separate rooms.”

Gareth accepted this, but for some reason, the authoritative warning riled up his libido enough that he had trouble sleeping, and after leaving for work in the morning, he felt compelled to take an unscheduled detour into the woods.

Occasions such as this made him confident that the shared stash would always be there when he needed it, just as internet porn had been, once upon a time. Thus, it was with an air of casual detachment that he gave a chaste kiss to his wife one Sunday afternoon and strolled off toward the woods, intent on enjoying the pleasant weather and satisfying his urges at the same time.

Around a half mile from home, it occurred to Gareth that he probably should have gone to the bathroom before he left. But a second later, he decided that that was of no real concern. He was heading for the woods, after all, so he could just pee on a tree when he got there.

Actually, he thought to himself, I’ll probably do that after I blow my load. He’d jerked off enough to know that, for whatever reason, it often felt better to do that with a full bladder.

When Gareth had first started visiting the men’s little adult library, he always made a point of checking behind him along the way to make sure he wasn’t being followed, and even searched the area for any signs of possible interruption or discovery before he pulled leaves and branches off of the opening to reach in and see which type of magazine he came up with first. This time, he didn’t do any of that, having long since learned to take his woodland porn as much for granted as he had his internet porn.

But now, when he peered into the hollow, he immediately noticed something odd. On top of the stack of magazines, there was a single, folded piece of paper. Curiously, he pulled it out and unfolded it to reveal a typewritten message: “STEP AWAY AND PUT YOUR HANDS UP.”

As soon as his brain processed these words, it was flooded with an awareness that he had come to casually suppress: that the thing he’d been doing which once seemed so normal was now illegal and that being caught with porn, even if it wasn’t technically his own, could lead him to face a stiff fine, or even jail time.

His first impulse upon reading the note was to drop it and take off running. He might have even obeyed that impulse, if not for the fact that it was immediately interrupted by a woman’s voice calling out from somewhere behind him: “Don’t move!”

Upon hearing it, Gareth felt that he wouldn’t be able to move even if he wanted to. His legs were frozen by fear, and his bladder suddenly felt much, much fuller than it had before – so much so that whatever energy he might otherwise have put into running now had to be redirected toward keeping his urethra closed off.

“Show me your hands,” the woman said firmly.

Gareth dutifully raised them and swallowed hard, the color draining from his face as he did.

“Turn around,” she added.

Slowly, he did as he was told, and found himself facing a young, redheaded woman who strode toward him in a tight-fitting grey uniform, with her hand loosely gripping the weapon holstered at her side. When she came face-to-face with him, Gareth could see that she exceeded his height by an inch or two, but stood with a confidence that made her look even taller.

Looking over each of her shoulders, Gareth could see two other women behind her who were also uniformed but not visibly armed. One, though not quite as tall, had a distinctly athletic build that she carried with an air of severe authority, which her short, black hair seemed styled to accentuate. The other woman was shorter and somewhat mousy looking, with glasses and dirty-blonde hair pulled back into a simple ponytail.

“Vice Abeyance and Natural Coupling Enforcement,” the woman nearest to Gareth said, needlessly. He had already recognized the uniform of the morality police.

“You are hereby in violation of the Socially Harmful and Aberrant Materials Erasure Act,” she declared.

“I didn’t do anything!” Gareth protested. “I didn’t know there was smut in there. I found it just now; it’s not mine. I was going to report it.”

“Nice try, Mr. Franklin,” the lead officer replied. “We’ve been monitoring this spot for several days. We’ve seen you and your friends coming and going, and we’ve seen what you do here.”

Gareth stared back at her, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. His bladder felt very heavy and there was a numbness in his groin which prompted him to squeeze his legs together. The fact that she already knew his name was proof enough that he was in a kind of trouble he’d struggle to talk his way out of.

“It is within my authority, sir,” the woman continued, “to assign each of you to a five-week reeducation course on the socially harmful effects of pornography.”

“Oh, come on,” Gareth said. “This isn’t that serious!”

Much as he hoped that he could convince them to let him off with a warning, Gareth cursed the fact that he’d been caught in the act by a female officer – by three of them, in fact, with not a man in sight who might back him up when he tried explaining that the contents of their library were just ordinary, straight-down-the-line pornography and that they weren’t hurting anybody by sharing it and giving themselves a little release while no one was around.

The gender of his accusers didn’t come as much of a surprise, though. As it happened, when the morality police started taking shape, there was unexpectedly high enrollment among women, particularly single women. It wasn’t exactly what the government had been after, but as long as they were willing to enforce the censorship and public decency laws as written, no one really saw any reason to question it.

Ignoring Gareth’s initial protest, the redheaded officer continued her explanation: “Furthermore, since you and your friends have engaged in a conspiracy to acquire and distribute these materials and conceal them from government authorities, I can also elect to refer your case to a court of law, where if convicted, you may face up to two years in prison, among other penalties.”

“Cuh… conspiracy?” Gareth croaked as his legs began to tremble and the weight of his bladder pressed further into his groin. “No, wait a minute… You got this all wrong… We just shared some magazines and stuff. We weren’t spreading them around.”

“Sharing them is spreading them around, sir,” the officer shot back. “This was a coordinated effort to expand access to illicit materials, with full knowledge that they have been categorically banned.”

“But… no…” The feeling of fullness in Gareth’s bladder now extended down into his urethra. His hand twitched with a desire to his grab his crotch, but since it remained raised over his head, he contented himself with shifting on his feet and rubbing his thighs together instead.

A spasm ran through Gareth’s core and he felt a spot of moisture blooming in his underwear as the lead officer withdrew a pair of handcuffs and her backup moved ahead to flank him on either side.

“Turn around and place your hands behind your back, sir,” she said.

Gareth did so but continued to plead his case that this was all being blown out of proportion.

“You don’t understand!” he shouted. “My wife barely ever lets me fuck her! What was I supposed to do?”

The lead officer tightened the handcuffs on Gareth’s left wrist, then paused to say, “Frankly, sir, that sounds like a you problem,” before proceeding to his right.

Once he was securely locked up, she took hold of the inside of his elbow and directed him to turn back around. Hemmed in on three sides, Gareth had to turn his head back and forth to confront the judgmental voices of the supporting officers as they joined in on undermining the rationale for his transgression.

“You’re a married man, and instead of pleasing your wife, you left her alone to go jack off in the woods?” said the tense-looking brunette, glaring at him severely from his left side.

“And on the Sabbath, no less,” added the mousy blonde on his right, shaking her head.

“She won’t let me!” Gareth whined.

“I find that extremely hard to believe,” said the lead.

“I think what you mean is she won’t let you please yourself,” clarified the officer on his left.

“Yeah,” the redhead resumed, “if you had been doing it for her before all this, I guarantee she’d be more receptive.”

The officer on his left piped up again: “Did you even try to make it worth her while? I mean, there are voluntary classes at the reeducation center on healthy relations and the female orgasm. You probably could have learned some techniques to improve your stamina. Or if that’s—” she paused to look him up and down “—not good enough, then between you and me, you could try cunnilingus. But they don’t mention that in your magazines, do they?”

“We’re not insensitive to people’s needs,” the officer on his right added in a gentler tone. “But this is part of the problem with pornography. It makes it so you don’t even have to focus on your spouse.”

Being surrounded and talked down to like this, Gareth felt increasingly nervous, and several times during their lecture, his penis twitched with the impulse to let out another spurt of urine, before he clenched his jaw and concentrated on stopping it.

“Anyway,” the lead said with an air of finality, “it doesn’t really matter why you did it or what you could have done differently. The fact is that you’ve broken the law, and now it’s just a matter of determining the extent of the consequences. Do you have your identification on you?”

“Um…” Gareth swallowed hard and clamped his legs together again. “My wallet’s in my back left pocket.”

“Officer Broderick,” the lead said, looking to the muscular brunette. “Will you get that for me?”

Broderick advanced on Gareth without hesitation, and he instinctively shrank away, then began bouncing his foot as the urge to empty his bladder intensified sharply.

“Will you hold still, sir,” Broderick said while reaching for his pocket, and Gareth forced himself to stop, pursuing his lips and squeezing his eyes shut with the effort. As soon as his wallet was extracted and the officer had taken a step back, Gareth resumed bouncing his leg, then began alternately bending his knees until his entire body was swaying conspicuously.

As Broderick handed off the wallet to her lead, the third officer laid a hand on Gareth’s shoulder. Though the gesture was gentle, it still took him by surprise, causing him to jump and interrupting his dance. A second spurt of pee finally escaped into his underwear. He clamped it off immediately but also felt his face drain of whatever color was still remaining. He feared that the wetness was now showing through on his pants, but he didn’t dare look down and risk drawing attention to it. He could not, however, prevent himself from beginning to dance even more frantically.

“My goodness,” said the smaller officer at his side. “You don’t need to be so nervous. This is your first offense, right? I’m sure they’ll go easy on you.”

“All right, Mr. Franklin…” The lead officer looked up from his identification. “Why don’t you have a seat while I call this in? It should only take a couple of minutes. Broderick, Macy, just keep an eye on him.”

With no pretense of gentleness, officer Broderick strode back over to Gareth and grabbed him by the arm to lead him over toward the very log that contained the evidence against him, while Macy followed close behind. Broderick backed him up to toward the log until he fell down into a seated position, landing with a wince and immediately beginning to scissor his legs while shifting position in an effort to find the one that put the least strain on his bladder.

This went on for a solid minute, with Gareth staring off into space, before Broderick finally called out to him and said, “What the fuck is the matter with you? Can’t you sit still?”

“I think he’s nervous,” Macy answered for him with a smile.

“No…” Gareth said. “I mean, yes, but it’s not…” He looked at each of the nearby officers, then cast a fleeting glance toward where the lead stood holding Gareth’s I.D. in one hand and her phone in the other. Finally, he looked down at the ground and quietly confessed, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

Gareth glanced back up at them a brief moment later and felt some of the color returning to his face in the form of a blush. But he couldn’t tell whether it was brought on more by the sight of Broderick rolling her eyes, or the sound of Macy chuckling while she answered simply, “Oh!”

Nothing more was said for another minute, while Gareth continued scissoring his legs and shifting weight from one buttock to the other, while periodically letting out little, involuntary whimpers of strain.

“He looks like he’s going to piss his pants,” Broderick said at last.

Gareth looked up to see Macy frowning pensively at him, before she looked toward her commanding officer who was still standing at a distance with her phone to her ear, apparently waiting on hold.

“Hang on,” Macy said to Gareth, then walked off in that direction.

“Yeah, seriously, hold on,” Broderick reiterated, her voice tinged with disgust.

For several more seconds, Gareth alternated between squeezing his eyes shut, staring at the ground, and looking toward the spot where Macy stood with the officer in charge, gesturing back toward him and saying something he couldn’t hear.

The lead looked over with an impatient expression, and then both women walked back toward him. The as yet nameless redhead held the phone so it was still pressed to her ear but angled away from her mouth, and stopped directly in front of Gareth, so that she was looking down her nose at him.

“Officer Macy says you need the toilet?” she inquired.

Gareth looked back at the ground and nodded.

“Okay, well, I’m just waiting to confirm that they’ve got a spot for you at the registration office. It’s a two-minute walk to where we parked the van, and a ten-minute drive at the most to get there. We’ll take you to the restroom right after.”

At that, the officer turned to walk away, but stopped without taking a step when Gareth whimpered and then gasped out: “But I don’t think I can wait that long.”

The lead officer’s expression hardened as she turned to face him again. “I don’t get it,” she said. “If you came out here with the intention of masturbating, why do you have to go to the bathroom so badly?”

Gareth shrugged helplessly, leading officer Macy to interject on his behalf: “It probably doesn’t help that he’s scared.”

Broderick laughed dismissively. “No, he probably just doesn’t know how to control himself. If he’s the kind of guy who jacks off in the woods, who knows?”

“I… forgot to go before I left home,” Gareth croaked.

“See?” Broderick said triumphantly.

“I still don’t get it,” the lead officer professed, sounding frustrated. “Didn’t you walk here? If you have to do that badly, how were you planning on making it home? Or was it your intention to just urinate on the ground? Do you realize that’s another violation of public decency which I could add to your file?”

“No, please, I…” Gareth began to scissor and bounce his legs even more erratically.

“I don’t know if you should scare him any more than you already have, lieutenant,” officer Macy advised gently. “You might make him pee his pants.”

“It is just pee, isn’t it?” the lieutenant asked firmly. “You don’t have to take a shit or anything?”

Gareth blushed harder. “Just pee.”

“Are you sure?” officer Broderick interjected. “Little boys don’t always know when they need to go.”

“All right, let’s keep this professional,” the lead officer cautioned despite her own impatience. She then adjusted the phone’s position against her face, reacting to someone coming back on the line. “Yes. Yes, ma’am.”

She turned away and raised her hand to Gareth, her index finger pointing up to silently command that he wait one minute for her to be finished.

“That’s right. Gareth Franklin,” she continued, stepping further away while he leaned forward to listen in, involuntarily putting pressure on his bladder. “Possession of illicit materials, distribution, concealment, conspiracy to distribute… public indecency, masturbation without medical necessity. Recommend expedited hearing before a court of virtue.”

Gareth’s blood ran cold as he listened to the list of accusations and imagined them being repeated by a judge. It didn’t sound to him like they were going to go easy on him as Macy said they would. And it didn’t seem fair. He’d just looked at some porn. They didn’t actually catch him masturbating and there was no conspiracy. The lending library hadn’t even been his idea in the first place! If they convicted him of all those charges, how would he ever be able to face his friends and family again? How could he expect his wife to let him keep sleeping in the master bedroom with her after she learned that he was only able to keep his hands off of her because he’d been jerking off in the woods?

“Wait, please!” Gareth cried out, struggling to his feet. “Please, you can’t do this to me!”

Broderick moved toward him, but before she could reach out and push him back down onto the log, Gareth lunged forward in an effort to close the gap between himself and the lead officer, so he could throw himself on her mercy.

He managed only two steps before losing his balance and, unable to catch himself with his hands cuffed behind his back, fell to his knees then pitched forward and landed with his face in the dirt, his ass up in the air.

As soon as the pain registered in Gareth’s mind, his bladder gave up all control and a sudden warmth settled into his crotch and began spreading out in all directions. Urine poured down both legs and quickly began to puddle between his knees. The three women heard it before they saw it, but after recovering from the impact, Gareth rocked backward until he came to rest on his knees and revealed the wet patch not only his lap but also on his belly.

He made no effort to stop the flood while kneeling there and staring up at the lieutenant, but once again repeated the word “please,” while she looked down at him with an expression that revealed shock, disgust, and pity all at once.

“Aww, he’s wetting his pants,” Macy said, stating the obvious.

“Gross,” Broderick added.

“Sorry to interrupt, HQ,” the lead officer said into the phone. “Can we actually put a hold on this? This situation just got… a little more complicated… No, no cause for alarm; just… I’ll call with an update later. I think you’re going to like this.”

“He’s crying,” Macy observed while the lieutenant hung up her call.

Gareth tried using his shoulders to wipe the tears and the dirt from his face, then looked back up at the lead officer with pleading eyes. “I’m sorry,” he moaned.

“What are you sorry for?”

“For everything! I’m sorry I didn’t follow the rules. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder with my wife. I’m sorry I wet my pants. I’m sorry, please don’t take me to jail!”

After a long moment’s silence, the lieutenant looked to each of her colleagues and said, “Officer Broderick, officer Macy? Can I speak to you over here for a moment?”

The trio left Gareth in his puddle and walked about 20 feet away together, then stood there for over a minute, conversing in hushed tones and occasionally glancing over at him while he watched them out of the corner of his eye.

Finally, the three officers retraced their steps and encircled him again before the redheaded lieutenant declared: “All right, it looks like it’s your lucky day. We’re still going to send you for a reeducation course, but you’ll be able to do it on your own time. You’ll receive registration instructions in the mail by next week.”

“You can take it as an opportunity to look into some of those sex ed courses, too,” Broderick interjected.

“Apart from that,” the lead officer continued with a nod, “the consensus here is that you’re just too pathetic to put through the whole process. Personally, I’d really rather not load you into the van and have to smell your piss for the next ten minutes, so we’re just going to advise you to consider this a very, very stern warning. But I expect you to be on your best behavior going forward, and please don’t think that this means you can just wet your pants anytime you want to get yourself out of trouble with us. If I ever see you in this state again, I’m charging you for public urination, and I’ll see to it that the maximum penalty is applied.”

“Okay… Thank you,” Gareth said without quite meeting her eye. “But… how am I supposed to get home?”

“That’s the neat part,” officer Broderick answered. “You walk!”

“This is really the best thing for you,” officer Macy added sympathetically.

“Yeah,” the lieutenant went on, “we decided that the public humiliation of going home like that, knowing why it happened, will probably teach you more of a lesson than standing up in court would have. But you better go straight home to your wife. Don’t try to sneak into a friend’s house and change your pants, or anything. And don’t try warning them that we found out about their little jerk-off club. We’ve already nabbed a couple of the others, and if you tip anyone off, we’ll know.”

Gareth’s heart raced at the mere thought of walking home in his state, but there was effectively nothing he could do but hang his head and nod his assent. As he did so, he heard the quiet jingle of a set of handcuff keys, which the lead officer held out in front of her before saying, “Officer Broderick, will you uncuff him, please?”

Broderick cringed but took the keys in hand, then took a couple steps toward Gareth before stopping and saying, “Can you stand up please, sir? I don’t want to risk kneeling down in your piss.”

Gareth was hesitant to do so, because amidst the feelings of shame, fear, relief, and powerlessness, and the sensation of his urine cooling against his skin, he also felt something else: His penis was stiffening slightly. He tried to will it to go down, and when that didn’t work, he climbed to his feet anyway, but remained slightly hunched over in hopes that it would prevent any of the three women from glancing down and noticing a bulge that might prompt them to change their minds, and make things worse for him than they would have been.

As he stood up, the urine that had pooled in his pant legs poured down over his shins and calves. He joined Broderick in cringing in disgust, but somehow even this didn’t cause his partial erection to dissipate. The residual cascade turned into a trail which followed behind him as he stepped out of his puddle and toward the officer, who turned him around and yanked his arms as far away from his body as she could before unlocking his left hand, then pushing him back while holding onto his right arm to unlock that as well.

The lieutenant handed Gareth’s wallet back to him, and the three turned away without another word. “Well, that was interesting,” she declared. “So, who’s next on our list?”

Gareth stood there for another moment, looking down at the humiliating state of his clothing and imagining how it would look to anyone who passed him on the street or glanced out their window as he made his way home. When it became clear that the morality police really had no further use for him, he began rigidly walking toward the edge of the woods, wincing at how his sodden clothing clung to him.

Coming face to face with civilization again, he steeled himself to step out into plain view, and began walking as quickly but as casually as he could, hoping against hope that amidst the steady Sunday afternoon traffic, most people would simply not pay him enough attention to notice that he’d wet his pants.

Nevertheless, it felt like there were a thousand eyes upon him for the entirety of the walk – and those imagined gazes were all the more accusatory because, though he made every effort to remind himself that there was nothing sexy about what had just happened, his penis just would not go all the way down.

In fact, it stiffened even more while he stood on his doorstep, trying to muster the courage to go inside and face his wife. It became fully erect when he finally crept through the door and heard Stacy’s footsteps approaching, followed by her voice saying, “Oh, honey, you’re ba… Oh my god! What happened?!”

Gareth stared and the floor and fumbled to reply: “Noth… It’s a long… Can we not talk about it, Stace?”

“What do you mean not talk about it?” she asked insistently. “Did you wet your pants? How did this happen?”

“Um… Yeah, kinda. Like I said, it’s a long story.”

“It can’t be that long. You left here, what, an hour ago? You couldn’t hold it for an hour? Is this some kind of a problem that you’ve been hiding from me?”

“No!” Gareth exclaimed. “I swear, this has never happened before. It was… Something… caused it.”

Stacy stared at him quizzically, obviously waiting for an explanation that would make more sense to her. Gareth’s mind reeled trying to think of a plausible one that was free of the truth’s most humiliating details, but his embarrassment had already crippled his defenses, and he quickly broke down and told her everything, still wearing his pee-soaked pants, right there in the entryway.

He admitted that the pornography ban had presented more of a challenge than he anticipated, and that his sexual frustration had only subsided after he and some of the other Clarksburg men hatched their plan to keep a stash in the woods. He admitted that that was where he went on his walks, and that that was now the only reason why he was able to sleep beside her without pestering her for sex.

Finally, he told her about his run-in with the morality police, embellishing slightly to imply that they’d deliberately kept him from the toilet for much longer than they had. However, her awareness of the timeframe made it impossible for him to avoid acknowledging that it was primarily fear, not desperation, that caused his accident.

“Oh, you poor thing!” Stacy said when he was done. “That must have been awful for you.”

“Yeah… I just… really want to change.”

“Aww. I understand,” Stacy cooed. “Well, let’s get your shoes and socks off, then you can come right to the laundry room.”

Gareth was taken aback at the sight of her kneeling down in front of him, and he reacted by thrusting his hips backward in hopes of making his erection less noticeable.

“You don’t have… I can get it… You go on ahead,” he said.

“Nonsense,” she tutted as she began unlacing his shoes. “I’m sure this is uncomfortable enough without you bending over, and anyway, the less you have to move, the less pee you’re going to drip on the floor.”

Gareth saw no use in arguing, and after she’d finished untying his laces, he raised each foot to let her slip his shoes off, then lifted them again so she could yank off his wet socks. Gareth then followed her barefoot to the laundry room, and barely even registered the fact that she was leading him by the hand.

“I’ve heard a few stories about those morality police,” Stacy said. “I can’t believe people actually supported the bans and didn’t realize it was going to lead to this, but I guess that’s just the world we’ve got to live in now.”

“Yeah…” Gareth said, questioning, for the first time, which way his wife had voted.

“I’m sure you’re not the first person this has happened to,” she said, arriving in the laundry room and standing her husband up against the washing machine to look him in the eyes. “Did the officers threaten you? They didn’t hit you, or anything?”

“No, they didn’t…”

“But they were big guys?”

“Um… Actually no, they…” Gareth lowered his head and mumbled into his chest, “They wuh wim…”

“They what?”

“They were women,” he said, just loudly enough for her to hear.

Stacy raised her eyebrows and repeated the phrase slowly and loudly, in an expression of clear astonishment: “They were women?”

“Yeah… um… I guess a lot of the morality cops are…”

“And they scared you so much that you peed your pants?”

“It’s not that they scared me,” Gareth said weakly but defensively. “It’s more that… they said they could take me to jail and stuff. It was the situation.”

“Still…” Stacy said.

Gareth read her tone as one of disappointment, and was once again made to wonder why he was so aroused.

“God, you even got it on your shirt,” Stacy said, her fingers tugging at the spot where his pee had spread downward while he was pitched forward into the dirt. Without another word, she began pulling it up over his head, and Gareth reflexively raised his arms to let her take it off of him. He also tried to push his hips backward again, fearing his wife might lean into his erection, but being already pressed against the washing machine, there was nowhere for him to go.

Stacy tossed the shirt into the machine and commanded, “All right, now take your pants off.”

Gareth froze. “Um… okay,” he said. “I’ll finish up here. You’ve done enough.”

“Since when do you do your own laundry?” Stacy chuckled. “Come on, the quicker this gets done, the quicker we can put it behind you. I’ll get this started and you can go hop in the shower.”

“Um…”

“Why are you being so bashful? Is this just because we haven’t been fucking lately? Afraid you’re going to get all riled up and end up running right back to the woods?”

“That’s not funny,” Gareth sulked.

“Sorry… Come on, take your pants off.”

Again feeling stuck, Gareth relented and yanked down his pants as quickly as he could, leaving his underwear on and hoping that somehow, his wife either wouldn’t notice his state of arousal, or would politely ignore it.

“Thank you,” Stacy said, taking the pants out of his hands and conspicuously holding them up to examine the stain for a moment before dumping them into the machine. At the same time, her eyes flicked over to her husband again and her gaze fleetingly swept over his entire body. She seemed to notice only then that he still wasn’t fully naked.

“And the underwear, obviously,” she said, reaching for the detergent, which she then measured and added to the drum, before selecting the cycle and starting the machine running.

Noticing that her husband hadn’t moved in the interim, she scoffed and asked, “Do I have to do it for you?” Then, without waiting for him to reply, she stepped close to him – enough so that he could feel her breath on his neck, and hooked her thumbs under the waistband on his boxer briefs on either side of his hips.

Before Gareth could properly react, Stacy dropped to her knees again, yanking his underwear down to his ankles. Her attention went straight to his feet while she waited for him to step out of them, which he promptly did, allowing her to slide them out of the way. In his surprise, Gareth made no effort to even cover his erection, which protruded into her peripheral vision before finally drawing her full attention.

A smile slowly crept across Stacy’s lips.

“Aww… You’re hard?” she asked, her voice dripping with condescension while she looked up at him from the floor. The volume of blood trapped in Gareth’s penis did not prevent more from rushing to his cheeks and eliciting a rosy glow which made Stacy smile even more broadly.

“I… um…”

“Wow, you are really hard,” Stacy observed. “Why is that, huh? Does someone like it that those strange women were so mean to him?”

“No! …I… I don’t know why it…”

“Or does it just want whatever attention it can get?” she suggested, placing her lips very close to the head and raising her eyes to look at her husband and gauge his response. “Does it want a kiss?” she offered with a mocking pout, then pursed her lips so they barely grazed the tip.

The miniscule contact was enough to make Gareth lightly sigh in pleasure, but no sooner had that passed his lips than he gasped and jumped in surprise and sudden ecstasy, as without warning, Stacy took his member all the way into her mouth and dragged her lips wetly over its length until it sprang out again.

A tremor ran through Gareth’s body which left him clutching the washing machine for support, his eyes closed and his mouth hanging open. Stacy watched from the floor and giggled at the intensity of his response, then playfully tapped the top of his shaft to make it bob up and down, and giggled some more as she stood up and added his piss-soaked underwear to the load.

“I guess you can take a shower now, unless you… want to follow me to the bedroom,” Stacy said, walking out of the laundry room ahead of her husband, but turning to look back at him and bobbing her head to the side in a come-hither gesture.

Gareth took a moment to recover from the surprise of her momentary fellatio, and a further moment to recover from the surprise of her subsequent invitation. Then he bounded after her, following his erection like a divining rod.

When he caught up to her in the bedroom, she was already in the process of removing her top. After tossing it onto the floor, she guided him by the arm and backed him up toward the bed until he fell onto it in a seated position, so that his eyes were roughly level with her chest while she proceeded to remove her bra.

Stacy tossed that aside and well, and then pushed her husband onto his back, finished undressing, planted her knees on the mattress on either side of him, and shimmied forward until she was properly positioned to settle onto his cock.

Gareth clutched at her thighs and expelled a deep sigh as she did so, then began to buck gently underneath her while she rode him. Her pussy lips squeezed successively harder on his cock as he thrust deeper and deeper inside her, and they matched each other’s rhythm while building toward a mutual climax.

“Oh, poor baby…” Stacy moaned. “Baby’s so horny… Oh! Baby needs me… to take care of… his wet little… cock.”

Stacy pressed her hips slowly and firmly downward a few more times, then arched her back and raised her face to the ceiling to howl at the arrival of her orgasm. Gareth stared up at the spectacle in wonder for a long moment before exploding inside of her and pitching his head back until his vision greeted the headboard upside down.

When they both had finished, Stacy collapsed over top of him and rested her forehead on his shoulder for a moment, before gently lifting herself off of his shrinking member and rolling onto the bed beside him.