Posted by Daddy4Life on May 25, 2006 at 00:30 [152.163.101.14]
In Reply to: Memory of nappies with a past boyfriend posted by Bethan on May 24, 2006 at 21:47
Bethan: I think a lot of us have similar experiences with lovers before we figure out our own sexual realities. It's especially true when we meet someone who accepts or facilitates some aspect that turns us on intensely before we are really sure whether it's just an "experiment" or something we are going to explore deeply and groove on for a long time. Typically, these affairs end without us answering that question.
It reminds me of one of my own girlfriends, when I was much younger and just beginning to discover the Daddy part of my sexuality. I met her at a campus party at a frat house (we knew each other but had never partied together), and I was the one designated to get her home (she was barely conscious), because none of her sorority sisters wanted to leave, and I was still sober enough to drive. On the way home, she wet all over the seat of my car.
When we arrived at her flat, she couldn't find her keys, and her roomies were all back at the party, so I took her to my place. She passed out before we arrived, so I had to carry her in. I didn't want to tuck her into bed as drenched as she was, so I changed her into one of my t-shirts, which fit her like an oversized nightshirt. I slept in the other room on the sofa.
The next morning I was awakened by Beth calling my name, so I went in to the bedroom, and she didn't even have to say a word. The smell of her urine was overwhelming. She had wet my bed during the night, probably more than once. When I looked at her, all I could see were two nervous and thoroughly adorable brown eyes peeking out at me from under the sheets.
She looked just like a six year old who was wet and scared that Daddy would be mad. Instead I became fully aroused immediately, and when she noticed she began to giggle. In an instant, I had taken a step forward, she reached out for my hand; I pulled her to her feet and we kissed furiously before falling into the puddle on the mattress for a long morning of wet sex.
Although she didn't actually move in, that was a mere technicality. She slept at my house each night. We drank heavily, and when we were alone, she always seemed to end the night with wet britches. A few nights a week, she would wet the bed and then let me change her into a clean nightgown and panties (good diapers and adult baby pants were not yet readily available). We didn't discuss why we enjoyed this together or what it meant; we more or less just allowed it to happen and, literally, went with the flow. :)
Still, we understood that we were opening doors that would not likely ever close again, whether we stayed together or not. It was clear that our best sex always came when she was "dripping wet." It was always intimate and although quite passionate, never felt rushed. It was also obvious that when we were together, she was little, sometimes shy and thumbsucky, sometimes loud and adorably bratty. And it was natural that I began to subtly act more and more like her Daddy, scolding when she was naughty (often spanking)and alternately cuddling and reassuring her when she was sad or upset.
The term came to an end. We both graduated and took our first professional jobs. Mine led me to San Francisco, while she remained in Boston. We corresponded for a brief spell, and then, inevitably, we lost touch.
Still, I think about her all the time, and I can't help but wonder... I am sure that, like most people our age, including myself, she had long periods in which she could not share that part of herself with anyone. I'd like to believe that she has liberated her little girl and found her one true Daddy, but I don't know and I probably never will.
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