by Katherine Wells

Created on: January 02, 2007   Last Updated: February 21, 2007

Oh god, I'm going red-faced and can feel my jaw clenching in embarrassment just thinking about this now.

WARNING: Those of a nervous disposition should look away now.

Still here? OK then, I did warn you...

I was about 15 and on a visit to a water park with a group of friends, which included the object of my affection (bronzed, tall, dark, handsome you get the picture). We were all having a marvelous time bombing down the slides, and splashing in the pools with youthful exuberance. I was desperate for the toilet, a number 2 and was just rushing to the ladies, when the afore mentioned love-god grabbed my arm and invited me to go down the biggest water-chute with him. Torn between emptying my bowels and this, perhaps a once in a life-time, opportunity to get close to my Mr. Darcy I paused for a moment - what to do? Well what would you do? Yes, I decided to hang on for one slide longer. He took my hand and I blushed with school-girl glee as my stud and I walked up the steps to the slide. Looking down, I saw the other girls looking up with jealous faces, ego growing, I started giggling and waving down - far too full of myself and ripe for a fall.

As we sat down at the top of the chute I once again felt the desperate need for the toilet, but it was too late now, the stud was sitting down behind me, holding me round the waist and tucking his legs around me. With a huge heave on the overhead bar we shuttled off on our journey, a shoot of water rucked up my cossie and water shot up, hmm yes...there. We got to the bottom, I stood up in the shallow pool only for a rush of, albeit diluted, decidedly muddy-looking water to flow down my legs and all over my beloved - Bridget Jones has nothing on me!

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