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BABY JAY'S FANTASY (PART I)
My name is Jay. I live in New York and have been for all my 58 years. I'm 5', 160 pounds now. I was always short and very thin. As a young adult I have always been interested in wearing diapers.
It all started when I was 13 or 14. I would sit and watch the baby diaper commercials and envy those little ones because they were getting so much love and attention.
I was mostly by myself at that age. My parents trusted me to come
home from school and do my home work. I was about 15 when I noticed
that when I would watch the baby diaper commercials. I would get
really into the commercial. I would dream the little baby boy was
me. My mommy was changing my wet diaper and making me laugh. Most of
the time I would get an erection. I could not understand why? I
started to get curious about this feeling. So on a day that I knew
my parents were not going to be home until after 11 pm.
I grabbed a nice white fluffy towel out of the linen closet, and
two pins from the sewing basket. I laid it out on the bed and went
to the bathroom to get the baby powder. I laid down on the towel and
sprinkled a little baby powder on my diapered area. (Who doesn't
love the smell of baby powder)? I took the bottom of the towel and
pulled it up between my legs. I pinned one side and then the other.
I got up and readjusted the pins so that the towel was nice and
tight. The feeling of the fluffy towel around my butt and caressing
my balls and my penis was unbelievable. Warm, tight and very
comfortable. Now I understood why I always got hard while watching
the diaper commercials because I had the biggest erection that
I ever had. SO what is a young man supposed to do when there is no one in the house? I started to stoke myself. The smell of the baby powder was just keeping me dreaming. I shot my load in the diaper. I was so relaxed that I went to the top of the bed, pulled the covers up and feel asleep like a baby. (No pun intended).
I woke up before the alarm clock went off. I was rubbing the
sleep from my eyes when I remembered. I still had the towel diaper
on. I took it off and put it into the hamper. I took the two pins
and put them into my draw. I went to the bathroom and took a shower
and brush my teeth before school. I went down stairs for breakfast
and found a note on the table. Jay, your father dropped me off at
work early because I had an important meeting.
So what else is new? By myself again. I made some breakfast and went to school. After that night I would put on the towel diaper and either go to bed or if my parents were home. I would put my bath rob on and they never knew I was wearing a diaper. I did this until I was 18. I met a very pretty young lady. She was only 15. But I knew she was the one I wanted to be with. I never told her about my fetish and I never tried anything with her until she was old enough. We got engaged right before I went into the service. She wanted to get married right away and I wanted her to stay with her family until I got back. Unfortunately for me she sent me a dear Jay letter while I was in Nam. I should have married her. (But that is another story).
I spent 3 years and 9 months in the service. I never thought
about my secret desire while I was in the service. It was a good
thing because had my buddies found out they would have kicked the
crap out of me. I was 23 when I was discharged. I was home for
awhile and one day I saw a diaper commercial on TV. But these
diapers were different. They were called pull ups. The little ones
were still getting all the love and attention from their mommies.
And I was still getting aroused. How the hell was I still getting
aroused by these commercials? I was 23 years old a Viet Nam Vet. I
was so embarrassed that I turned the TV off. I remember going into a
store one day to look for the latest edition of Popular Mechanics.
I was browsing through the sections of magazines and found a magazine called "Family Letters". The magazine was about how sons, daughters, boyfriends and girlfriends were being treated like babies. Diapering, feeding, bathing, and even some spanking. There were stories about Aunts, Uncles, Sister, and Brothers as babies' mommies and/or daddies. I couldn't believe my eyes. So I bought the magazine and went home to read it. I started to buy the magazines each month or so. I started to have quit a collection. One night my parents were out for the evening. So I got my fluffy towel my pins and my Family Letters Magazine. I put my diaper on and started to read some of the stories in the magazine.
I was reading and was entranced by the stories. Mommies and
girlfriends treating their sons and boyfriends like babies. I was so
hot and engrossed in the stories that I didn't hear my Aunt Margaret
come into my room. (Aunt Margaret was my Fathers sister. She lived
downstairs). Your light was on and the door was open a cracked. She
said she knocked before she came in. I couldn't hide the book or
cover myself fast enough. I was mortified. When she saw what I was
wearing she started to giggle and walk towards me. I dropped the
book next to the bed and reached for my covers. But she was to fast.
She pushed the covers down to my ankles. She started talking baby
talk and said, and you always wondered why I always called you Baby
Did my baby Jay wet his diapers and he needs Auntie to change them and help him get all cleaned up? (It was amazing. It was just like in the magazine). I was surprised to hear this from her. She was making me crazy with the baby talk. But I finally told her, no thanks Aunt Margaret.
Oh but little baby Nephew doesn't understand Auntie. You see if baby Jay doesn't let Auntie help him with his diaper change, then she might have to tell his mommy and daddy what he does when they go out. Auntie has her baby Nephew right were she wants him. I was so embarrassed I couldn't speak. I was old enough to be on my own and figured when they found out (Especially my Father) they would freak out and through me out. I really had no choose. I couldn't say a word. I was speechless. So I leaned back on my pillow. She saw I was defeated and I had no choose.
To be continued. . .. . .. . .. . .. . .. . .. . .. . .
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