The_Cabin_On_The_Lake
THE CABIN ON THE LAKE
I met "Bruce" about ten years ago at a late-summer party thrown by some friends. I was in my late 20s and he was about 8 or 10 years older than I was. I was immediately attracted to him. Although fairly short, about 5'8", he was swarthy with a handsome face and dark moustache and had large muscular arms and legs, which were readily apparent given the tight jeans and T-shirt he was wearning.
We eventually hooked up and started to talk and the chemistry was great. When the party ended, we walked out the door together and I thought that was the last I'd see him, but he had a car and I didn't and he asked me if I wanted a lift home. I said, "sure," and we were on our way. When we got to my place, I didn't really want him to leave quickly, so I asked him up for a beer, although I was thinking about how to prevent him from going into my bedroom once we were upstairs. A regular bedwetter since my teens, I had left my wet sheets on the bed and the bedspread down that morning intending to change the bed when I returned home that night.
When we walked in the door, I could immediately smell urine and I'm sure he could too, but he said nothing. The bedroom door was almost immediately inside the entry hallway, with the kitchen just beyond. You had to go through the bedroom to get to the bathroom. The living room was at the very end of the hallway. Once in the apartment, I immediately closed the bedroom door shut and headed for the kitchen to get us two cans of beer.
When I came out of the kitchen, after fishing two beers from the back of the fridge, I saw the bedroom door open and light on. My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach, not knowing how Bruce would react. I heard him taking a pee in the toilet. I went to the living room and sat down with my beer, waiting for his reaction. He returned and started to drink his beer and said nothing about my wet bed. After about 30 minutes he had finished his beer and said he had to leave.
He asked me if I ever went camping and I said I did - even though I had not been for years. He then said he had a cabin on a lake about two hours from town that he was watching for a friend who had gone to Europe for awhile and asked me if I was free to join him the next weekend, to which I answered "yes." The next Friday night he picked me up at my apartment at about 7 p.m. I had agonized about whether or not to pack disposables, which I generally kept for traveling, although I sometimes wore them at home too.
I decided to take one diaper - even though we were going away for two nights - and I buried it at the bottom of the knapsack. When we got to the cabin it was a pretty basic affair. It was an old one room cabin with a door and two windows. The floor was made of wooden planking through which the ground underneath could be seen in places. There was a small wooden table with three chairs, a small black woodstove in the corner and a double bed frame made of wooden slats in the back corner with a thin mattress on it.
Outside, there was a rundown looking outhouse about 20 yards into the woods and there was a small lake, the shoreline of which was about 30 or 40 feet downhill from the cabin. "Heaven, isn't it(?)," Bruce exclaimed after we walked into the cabin. I wasn't sure. It was starting to get dark by the time we got the stuff out of the car. Bruce took a large dufflebag into the cabin and unfurled two sleeping bags, green on the outside and tan inside, which he totally unzipped and then zipped together as one large double-bed size bag.
He threw it over the mattress and then added two camping pillow rolls which he had also brought. We started to drink beers after that, although I limited myself to three, knowing the inevitable result of it. We talked about all kinds of things: hockey, baseball, cars, work and the like. He drank about six or seven before finally saying it was time to go to bed. I had agonized over raising my bedwetting issue with him but chickened out every time I had a chance.
I thought that if I stayed awake long enough, maybe I could get a few hours sleep in the morning and stay dry, but I fell asleep almost immediately after hitting the pillow. It was late summer and it got cold into the night. I snuggled into Bruce for warmth, waking early in the morning before sunrise with that telltale damp feeling covering the bed from my stomach to my thighs.
I thought "darn, he's going to be weirded out." Strangely, though, my bladder was full and I had to take a piss real bad, a situation not that usual after I had wet. The sun was starting to come up but it was very cold in the cabin. I had worn long underwear and a t-shirt to bed and both were clearly damp, so I was concerned about getting up and freezing, but I thought maybe I could make it to the door for a leak.
I started to climb over Bruce, who was on the open side of the bed, and when I put my hand down on the other side of him to balance myself I realized that his side of the bed was soaked. He had pissed the bed, not me! Half asleep, he turned over, rolling me back to my side. He muttered, "go back to sleep" and then he did just that. My bladder couldn't hold for long. I lay on my side and started to pee slowly and then in full stream.
I could hear it dripping onto the floor after soaking through the sleeping bag and mattress. After I drained my bladder, I again huddled into Bruce for warmth. In the morning, we both got up at about 7:30 a.m. and headed to the lake to clean up. Bruce later strung a line between two trees and we hung the sleeping bags and underwear on the line to dry.
I asked Bruce that morning whether he was a regular bedwetter and he said he was not. He said that he found it to be turn- on and that he did it every so often, especially after drinking. I had wondered also why he did not appear really interested in sex, and he explained that he was not gay, although he had "tried" things. Women, he said, often had a more difficult time with his wetting.
Also, he told me that he had found out through a mutual friend at the party that I was a wetter and the idea of doing it with another guy in the bed fascinated him. I asked him if he minded that I jerked off in bed when it was wet and he said he did not. The second night, we both got drunk and went to bed in the still damp bedding we retrieved from the line.
In the morning we were both soaked and he jerked off with me in the wet bed. We got together a few times after that but about a year later he got married to a woman who accepted his bedwetting and got him to start to wear diapers. I haven't seen him for a few years now, but I just have to think about that cabin on the lake to get myself wet - literally. He was right: It was heaven.
Wriiten By: Franco