Sun blazed down. I sat alone amid my divorce debris at the neighborhood flea market. Passersby eyed my stuff cheap. Three months post-split, ex hated my diaper habit. Called it deviant. Time to purge.
Dawn rise. Claimed my spot. Plopped on camping chair, Tena diaper taped snug under jeans. Hour-old piss warmed me already. Bliss in boredom. Unscrewed thermos. Hot coffee hit. Bladder let go. Flooded my padding. Safe. Secret thrill.
The Awakening
Chaos approached. Tower of bags on a hand truck. Woman emerged, crushed but smiling. Sophie. Green eyes, auburn hair glowing. Offered coffee. She stretched, accepted. Hands manicured. Chat flowed easy.
Crowds swelled. I scanned asses for diaper bulges. Older ladies mostly. Sophie asked to watch her stall. Needed the porta-potty. Grinned. “I’ll tackle intruders.” She dashed off. Back quick with pastries. Second coffee. Pause.
Names swapped. Pitched my leather armchair. She loved it. Exchanged numbers. Thunder crashed. Rain poured. Scrambled to cover. Bent for shoes. Diaper peeked. She smirked. “Smart, wearing protection. No potty breaks for you.”
Blushed hard. Saved what mattered. Home later, her number lost. Destiny’s joke. Then her call. Chair photos. Deal set. Saturday, she arrived chic. Slim pants, boots, blouse hugging perky tits. No diaper today. Dignity.
Tested chair. Loved it. Paid. Loaded car. Juice on terrace. “Don’t wanna pee mid-drive.” Then: “Your diapers leak daytime? Big exam coming. Need focus, no breaks.”
Froze. Spilled tips. Tape tight. Sip slow. Small streams. Offered samples. She took two. Kissed cheek. Gone.
Text next day: “Chair comfy. Diaper too. Thanks!” Silence followed. Utility only, I thought.
Month later, call. Passed exam. Dinner invite. Cafe. Radiant in skirt, heels. Hugged tight. “Diapers helped. Wet one after tea. Felt weird… then good.”
Shocked. “You mock?”
“No. Your blush screamed fetish boy, not incontinent.” Shifted. Skirt up. Bulging diaper. Swollen. “Like?”
The Act
Hard instantly. Dinner done. Keys dropped. Bent over. White, padded ass flashed. Full, warm. Touched. Soft crinkle.
Her place. Skirt off. Diaper clear through blouse. Pushed me on my chair. Foot up leg. Toes in mouth. Sucked. Then crotch press. Full view: soaked crotch sagging heavy.
Kneeled. Zipper down. Mouth on cock. Hot, swirling tongue. Ass swayed, plastic rustled. Exploded down her throat.
She checked diaper. “Saturated? Jealous you’re dry.” Bedroom. “Lie down.”
Untaped hers. Heavy, dripping. Slid onto me. Warm piss soaked my ass. Taped tight. “Less cocky now, baby.”
Straddled. Shirt off. Tits free. Sucked nipple. Hard peak. Pushed down. Rode face. Pussy drenched from hours padded. Licked clit. Sour-sweet nectar. Fingers gripped hair. Ground hard. Came screaming.
Tribbed my bulge. Slid slick on plastic. Clit humped. I bucked. She exploded again.
Turned. Spooned. Cock between thighs. Into her heat. Fucked doggy. Diaper slapped wet pussy. Clacked loud. “Big cock fills me! Harder!”
Synced orgasms. Collapsed soaked.
Morning light. She stirred. Kissed. “Our secret stays here.” Dressed. Left with smile. Back home, changed. Normal life. But thrill lingers. Oozed the forbidden. Diaper dreams forever changed.