A voice is calling through the darkness. My cotton filled ears strain to hear. God speaks to me. The hot tears of joy well up in my eyes. Then someone turns the TV off next door and it is silence.
There is a lie. That someone is telling me, either 1 or 10, is beyond doubt. Am I really a diaper? How can I process thought and have feelings and experience emotions. Do I really spend my life sleeping, waiting for these disgusting jobs? Who can I ask? Who can I trust? Can you tell me?
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The models fingers flash in and out of her sopping cunt, ever getting faster. Her sighs gradually get louder, turning into moans, and then syncronising with her blurring hand. Her streaming juices cover me. Like the ancient whaler, someone off camera shouts “There she blows”. Cue something strange….she starts shaking and then suddenly starts convulsing like that ugly chick in The Exorcist. And then….she starts squirting. Gallons of what can only be piss, and yet seem more akin to water, start shooting out of her. Next time, remind me to bring a life vest and some water wings! And a fucking harpoon!
Here’s a thought: diapersex…..as in “what sex (male or female) is a diaper”? When I awake on a chick, I’ feeling pretty indifferent. But when I awake on a guy, well, I do feel this kinda “negative” feeling deep down somewhere in my gut. So I guess that makes me a “male” or at least “male-ish”. And yet, I never get turned on, get hot, or feel any sort of stirring (sexual or otherwise) when I feel a hot pussy on my head. Perhaps things might be different if I was a tampon or a panty pad.
My diapered wings lift me up into clear blue skies. The suns heat warms my soul and the cool breexe kisses my clean white body. I am the diaper Icarus, souring above the Cretian Seas. Higher and higher. And even though I know the Greek tale, I am powerless to stop it’s telling, with myself as the central character.The sun’s heat starts to melt my diaper fabric. And then I am falling towards the sparling ocean, wjhilst looking up I see a fluffy trail of diaper fluff.
The girl is on her knees. I can tell by the way her arse is pressing against me. From the sounds and the slight but rhythmic movement, I can surmise that she’s sucking cock. It’s both interesting and disturbing that the only time I’m ever on my knees is when performing a sex act, and yet I know that I should be praying. Praying to the Cock of .jpg)
God!
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