We were getting hot and heavy – then I saw the state of his boxers

I realised he hadn’t a clue – either what was on his boxers, or that I had noticed (Picture: Getty Images)

I was on my bed, mid-kiss with a gorgeous man, when I suddenly froze. I had just caught sight of his underwear on my bedroom floor; and I couldn’t stop staring at them.

They were just a pair of standard grey boxer briefs, and they weren’t doing anything untoward on my floor. I had tossed them there after peeling them off my date, Liam*.

But it was what was on them that had stopped me in horror.

I saw a stain.

A line.

A skidmark.

I tried not to gag, staring at it as Liam continued kissing my neck. Eventually, I tore my gaze away from the boxers and into his gorgeous brown eyes and sly smile.

I realised he hadn’t a clue – either what was on his boxers, or that I had noticed. I sighed and carried on kissing him. 

‘I guess I’m doing this’, I thought, as a people-pleaser who just wanted to get laid.

It was a pretty low point for me.

I saw a stain (Picture: Getty Images)

Earlier that evening, I had been at a work networking event to try and schmooze more clients.

I hadn’t made much of an effort with my appearance; I wasn’t looking to take someone home that night. I just wanted to get some business cards and engage in light conversation about the weather or stock market.

That’s when I spotted Liam across the room, a tall man in a well-tailored suit, smiling over at me. I smiled back, over the shoulder of a bore who was telling me about his business.

Smiling and nodding at him while simultaneously exchanging glances with Liam suddenly made the event feel slightly less soulless.

I managed to escape the drip and walked towards this handsome stranger. He was now engaged in a conversation, but immediately ended it when he saw me approach.

We exchanged names and asked each other what we did for work. We couldn’t stop smiling, both holding glasses of prosecco. As we continued talking, the bubbly haze kept our conversation flowing.

I was four proseccos deep at that point, and the line won me over (Picture: Getty Images)

I admitted I was not looking my best and he declared that if I had looked any better, my beauty would have blinded him.

I was four proseccos deep at that point, and the line won me over.

We left the event with the plan to go back to mine, acknowledging openly we were going to have sex, but with a stop off at the local bar.

I lived in the area, so I wasn’t surprised to see people I knew there. They were delighted to see me, and embraced Liam into the fold.

We joined them and continued to drink. We’d left the work event at 8:00pm; before we knew it, it was 11:00 and we were busting moves on the bar’s dancefloor.

And when Liam disappeared for 10 minutes to the bathroom, I thought nothing of it.

Before we knew it, it was 11:00 and we were busting moves on the bar’s dancefloor (Picture: Getty Images)

That is, until we were back at mine, undressing each other – and I saw the skidmark on his boxers.

As I lay on my bed with him, I wondered if the bar had run out of toilet roll, and that he’d only realised midway through.

Or maybe he just didn’t know how to wipe. He was possibly too drunk to clean himself robustly.

Even then, it felt like I was making excuses for him – and looking back, I know I should have stopped the sex. I couldn’t stop thinking about the stain.

But I went ahead.

My body was tense from the anguish of being so close to poo, and my orgasm was faked to high heavens, in order to make the nightmare end – and it didn’t end as quickly as I’d hoped. 

He was too drunk to come quickly, so we moved to another position.

He lay on the bed while I sat on top, and I imagined him smearing lines and lines of it all over my sheets.

I faked another orgasm, hoping the effort I put into it would help distract me from thinking of his boxers, which were now in my eyeline.

He finally came, and delighted, I jumped off him and lay on the bed, hoping he would leave.

Instead, he turned over, kissed me and fell asleep.

I stared at his closing eyes – mine still wide with horror – as he settled in for the night.

I don’t know how long I managed to sleep for that night, but part of me wondered whether I should get up to examine the boxers. Maybe there was nothing on them and I had imagined the whole thing.

But it was definitely there.

The next morning, he thankfully left while I slept. 

I stared at his closing eyes – mine still wide with horror – as he settled in for the night (Picture: Getty Images)

I wondered whether in the morning light, he saw the mess in his boxers. I wondered if he used my bathroom to finally clean himself.

I wondered a lot, but never got answers, as I didn’t take his number and never saw him again.

But I did deep-clean myself, and my sheets, in a panicked frenzy. I didn’t tell a soul, thinking I would be judged, but I told myself that if I ever was in the unfortunate situation of seeing a pair of boxers with a skidmark on them again, I would not have sex with the random person they belonged to.

People make mistakes, and have accidents – that’s totally okay. But I’m also well within my rights not to want to be near poo.

It’s a right I never thought I would have to consider exercising, especially during sex; but now I know it’s a right I will always exercise in future.

I just hope that Liam has since learned how to clean himself and that no one else has had to suffer the same poo-based fear during sex with him.

And guys: Learn to wipe.

Originally published February 27, 2026

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