Rob and Stella
Same old, same old. Here’s yet another take on an old theme. I hope those who like this particular scenario enjoy this one. And I know I’m starting yet another story. I will finish the others! Anyway, in this one, the husband wakes up wet, and it goes from there…
‘Rob, wake up!’
Rob woke up, blinking in the bright morning light as his wife shook his shoulder.
‘Wha…?’ he said sleepily.
‘You wet the bed, Rob. Look at this!’ said Stella, moving back on the bed and pointing to the sodden bottom sheet.
As she spoke, Stella stood up and helped the still groggy Rob to his feet.
‘Oh no,’ said Rob, ‘I’m sorry Stell. I don’t know what happened. I haven’t had…’
Rob stopped. That wasn’t actually true. He had. As recently as two days ago, when he had been giving a presentation at work.
The shame of it, even the horror, came back to him. The terrible feeling of suddenly being unable to speak. The long, awful silence with his audience watching, confused, until Rob felt his apparent paralysis lifting, only to wet his pants, then cry as he was led away from the podium.
The doctor had prescribed rest. Rob’s work had been very supportive, and now, two days later and on medical leave, Rob had done it again, this time in bed.
‘Honey, I don’t know why this happened, I’m sorry,’ Rob said as he helped Stella peel the wet sheet off the bed.
‘I don’t know if the mattress will be ok,’ said Stella, looking at the oval damp patch. ‘And you should get out of those pyjamas. I’ll finish this.’
Rob stood mutely, staring at the mattress.
‘Go on, honey. Go and have a shower,’ said Stella.
Stella stood with the wet sheet in her hands.
‘Well off you go. Quick sticks!’ she said.
Rob hadn’t heard ‘quick sticks’ for years. It was what his mother used to say to hurry him along. He glanced at Stella. For a moment he was transported back to his early teens, with his mother exasperated by another wetting accident. It was a strange feeling for Rob. He shook his head to try to clear the thought and headed to the bathroom.
Once inside, Rob took of his pyjama pants. The wet fabric stuck to his legs. The top was damp too, near the hem at the front and back. He put his pyjamas in a ball on the chair in the bathroom, and had his shower.
As if it weren’t bad enough having that thing happen at work, he thought miserably. Now I’ve wet the bed for the first time since, well, since about a month ago after Stella’s birthday dinner. But that had been the first time since… since he was 18, thought Rob. He had had a problem, he knew that, but he had grown out of it at last, or so he thought. He looked down at his compact genitals, mentally accusing them of letting him down. He knew that was a foolish thought, but in his thoughts, his less than impressive little penis and balls were often the target of such thoughts. You do what you can with what you’ve got, he would tell himself. He and Stella had over time worked out various ways of satisfying themselves both sexually, despite Rob’s tendency to ‘slip out’, or to come too early.
‘You’re quality, not quantity,’ Stella would tell him as she played with his little soldier.
Rob would rather have had a bit more quantity, for his self-esteem if nothing else. It was alright for Stella. With he big, curvaceous body, she had way more womanly attributes than Rob had manly ones. Even Stella’s lush pubic hair put Rob’s spare body hair to shame. Stella even had more hair under her armpits, if she hadn’t shaved, than Rob had. His light blonde hair there was barely noticeable, while Stell would develop dark stubble under her arms after few days. Her being about four inches taller didn’t help. But they loved each other, despite being ‘the odd couple’ physically.
Rob stood for a moment, holding his flaccid penis between his fingers. ‘don’t do it again,’ he was thinking, when Stella walked in.
‘Rob, don’t do that, please,’ she told him.
Rob let go of his penis instantly. Stella hated him masturbating. It was hardly fair. She did it at night, lying next to Rob. She would moan softly as she caressed herself. Rob had never mentioned it, and either had Stella. She must be asleep when she does it, Rob had concluded. Sometimes he tried to join in, and sometimes sex would follow, but mostly she would just push him away. Rob had learned to let her be.
‘I hope you had a good wash,’ she said, looking at her husband’s groin. ‘It’s not healthy to have old urine around there.’
‘I washed,’ Rob replied grumpily.
He watched Stella as she shook out and held up his pyjama pants. Only the waistband was still dry.
Stella usually showered at night, and was already in her underwear. Rob watched the contours of her butt moving inside her lace panties. Her breasts seemed to be dammed rather than simply held by her bra. The top of her breasts, Rob new, were a big, fleshy pillow. He loved lying against them. He especially liked sucking her big brown nipples.
‘These need to soak in NappiSan,’ said Stella. ‘Don’t daydream, Rob. I’m running late now, with all this. I’ll leave you to do the laundry. And put your undies in too, please Rob. You’re getting those rings again. I don’t know why you can’t organize your toileting a bit better. A child keeps their undies cleaner.’
‘OK,’ said Rob.
He wished she wouldn’t talk to him like that. He didn’t mind the instructions – Stella ran the house, and was always giving Rob jobs, but he didn’t like the reference to his underpants.
‘I’m not a child, Stell,’ he said, deciding to stand his ground.
‘I didn’t say you were,’ said Stella. ‘Rob, I haven’t got time for this. Now go and put something on and sort out the laundry, please.’
Rob looked again at his wife. She was facing him now, and he saw the broad triangle of satin stretching over her pubic mound. She never dripped a bit, thought Rob unhappily as he went back to the bedroom to get dressed.
Rob was in the laundry shaking NapiSan into a plastic bucket when Stella swept past the door.
‘I’m leaving, honey,’ she said. ‘Don’t forget to do a cold wash. I don’t want anything setting on the fabric.’
‘OK,’ said Rob. ‘Have a nice day,’ he added without much enthusiasm.
‘I will honey,’ replied Stella from the front door. ‘Judy’s coming for dinner tonight. Best behaviour.’
‘OK, Stell,’ Rob replied.
Then Stella was gone.
Great, thought Rob. He and Judy didn’t get on too well. She was Stella’s business partner, and another oversized female. In Rob’s view, any woman over his lightly built 5 feet 5 was ‘oversized’. At nearly six feet, Judy was even taller than Stella, and just as well built. The pair worked out together twice a week. Judy always made Rob feel small, psychologically as well as physically.
Rob stood looking into the bucket of soaking clothes. He lent down and prodded his underpants under the surface. He grimaced. Stella had bought him yellow undies – underpants, he corrected himself – because, she said, any stains would be less obvious. How insulting, he thought angrily. And obvious to who? ‘A child would have cleaner undies’ he recalled Stella saying. At least is he were a child, it wouldn’t be such an issue. Children don’t know how good they have it, he thought morosely as he left the laundry.
In her car on the way to work, Stella was deciding to have a chat with Judy about Rob’s problems. Judy was the most sensible woman she knew, Stella thought, and she had brought up five children. Stella and Rob were childless, though not through choice. Though it often seemed to Stella that she did have a child – a 27 year old child called Rob. Stella hoped Rob had managed to get the laundry done properly. She swung her SUV into the carpark, pleased that she had things in hand.