Neighbors, Part 13 (Patreon)

Thirteen.

“I may have only been teasing you about messing your diaper at the bar,” Lucy said. “But here, where it’s just you and me, I’m much less inclined to kid around.”

I’d have said her apartment was about the same size as the one that I shared with Veronica. Though, as Lucy lived alone, her place seemed more spacious.

She did have one important addition to her apartment that we did not, however - a balcony. We were sitting outside at a small patio table, feeling the cool night wind swirl around us. She had poured us yet another round of drinks - cocktails of her own making this time around.

“Keep putting drinks in me and I’ll do anything you ask without hesitation,” I said. “Jokes or not.”

“I’m already well aware of this,” she said.

We looked out over the city. From this, the 10th floor, much of the street below looked miniature and insignificant. Illuminated only by streetlights, signs and cars, it was kind of pretty.

“You should take your pants off,” she said.

I wanted to ask why, but it didn’t really matter what the reason was. It was an easy enough thing to do and I didn’t want her to think that I was already hesitating when actually put to task.

I carefully removed my shoes and my pants, putting them inside near her couch, before walking back out to the balcony with my diaper on display. My two heavy wettings had done a number on it, and it was sagging considerably between my legs.

Staying in her chair, she beckoned me to her with just a finger. When I got closer, she tucked a hand under the swollen diaper so that she could feel how heavy and thick it had become.

“I like you like this,” she said. “Diaper out and exposed - like a real baby. Isn’t that comfortable? Not being restricted by those awful big boy pants?”

“Well...it’s different,” I said. The air was a little chillier up here and little goosebumps formed on my legs.

“This is good for two reasons,” she said, gently squeezing the front of the diaper. “For one, I think it’s important for me to always know the condition of your diaper. This just makes it easier.”

“And the other reason?” I asked.

She stood and walked closer to the balcony’s railing. She pointed to an apartment in the building across the street from hers. It wasn’t exactly parallel - it might have been on that building’s 9th floor - but close enough that we could see into the living room of the apartment.

“Do you see that one?” she asked.

I looked into the apartment. A man watched TV. My eyes slowly scanned to the right, spotting a head through a kitchen window.

“I do.”

“They put on an incredible show. She’ll get down on her hands and knees, facing out the window - practically looking right at me - and he’ll get behind her and just fuck her senseless for what feels like an hour.”

“That...happens often?”

“Often enough,” she said.

“And you just...watch them fucking each other? Do they know you’re watching?”

“I can’t imagine you’d fuck in front of a window if you weren’t expecting anyone to see,” she said with a laugh. “But yes. They’re well aware of my viewership.”

“Wait...what does this have to do with me wearing a diaper on your balcony?”

“It’s how I want to return the favor someday,” she said with a shrug. “I would love nothing more than for the day to come when they’re at their window - bonus points if they’re fucking - and they look up at my balcony and they see me with some diaper boy. If they caught me breastfeeding said diaper boy? Well, fuck. I’d probably come right there on the spot.”

I laughed and shook my head as I looked over the balcony into their apartment. I kind of wished her neighbors would see that too one day.

For a few moments, we just stood and listened to the night from the balcony. She returned to her seat behind me and I looked out over the area in just my diaper. She was watching me - staring at my bloated padding - I could just feel it.

“You’d look cute pooping your pants up here,” she said.

“You...think so?”

“You’d probably look cute pooping your pants anywhere. But here too. You would do that for me, yes?”

“Are you asking me to?” I asked.

“I want you to poop your diaper for me,” she said. “Here on my balcony. In fact, until you do, we’re not leaving. And once you do, I’ll take you back inside to change you.”

“Is it okay if I take my time with that one?” I asked. “It’d be my first time doing that in front of someone. And...uh, my first time having someone else changing me.”

“Take your time,” she said. “I trust you’ll let me know when you’re ready.”

On some level I was experiencing anxiety about what I had just committed to, but it was deep enough in the recesses of my mind that I wasn’t letting it get to me. Lucy had a way of making it seem so expected and obvious, that I almost felt sillier for having any hesitation at all.

“Did you actually give Raquelle your number?” I asked.

“I left it on the table,” she said with a smile.

“Do you think she’ll call you?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Do you think she looked in the bookbag?”

“Probably,” she said. “If she didn’t go through the entire bag, I’m sure she at least took a peek.”

“Are you nervous she wouldn’t call you after seeing what was in the bag?”

She laughed and shook her head. “It was your diaper bag, not mine. I’m sure she’d have figured that out too. But if I never heard from her again? Yeah, I guess I might wonder if she saw your big diapers and assumed that we were into things far weirder than she could handle.”

“But if she does call you?” I asked.

“That could mean a lot of things, right? It could mean that she actually wanted to get a chance to talk to me again too. Or...it could mean that she liked what she saw in your diaper bag. Maybe both.”

I blushed a little at her repeated references to my ‘diaper bag.’ Simultaneously, something else was happening. Speak of the devil… I had been a little nervous that my bowels would be unable to perform tonight. But I felt a mild cramp in my gut - an early indication that I’d probably be just fine when the moment came.

“Have you ever worn a diaper?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “Do you think I should try it?”

I shrugged. “You might like it.”

“I might. But I’m pretty fond of being the one changing the diapers.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“I bet it’s the same reason anyone likes being more of a top than a bottom, right? Control. Power. I derive pure pleasure from being able to guide someone - another adult - through something as humiliating as a diaper change.”

I nodded. It was a good answer, and one that felt complimentary to my needs of a ‘mommy.’

“How did you discover diapers?” she asked. “When did you know you wanted to be a baby again?”

I felt a little more churning in my abdomen.

“It’s not a particularly happy story,” I said.

“I’m still willing to hear it, if you’re willing to tell me.”

“I guess I was a mistake,” I said with a shrug. “I mean...nobody had ever said as much, but it's one of those things you kind of piece together. My parents were young when they had me, and my father didn’t stick around too long. My mother did her best for me, but...I always felt like there was a little bit of resentment there. Whenever she’d look at me, I could see her imagining an alternate reality where she did the things she wanted to do and wasn’t bound to being a mother.”

“That’s a pretty depressing thought for a kid to have,” Lucy said.

“Maybe,” I said with a laugh. “Don’t get me wrong...it wasn’t a bad childhood. And she was a good mother.”

“So...how does that lead to diapers?”

“She got remarried. I was in my teens at this point and more independent. I guess I had always been more independent - not wanting her to feel like I was more of a burden than I might have already been. But it had afforded her the chance to, you know, get out there in the world again. And she met this guy and they absolutely hit it off and…”

“They had a baby?” Lucy asked.

I laughed. “Bingo. I don’t know, it was like the perfect storm, I guess. I had never seen my mother so happy than when she was holding my baby sister. Meanwhile, there’s teenage hormones and all that and… I don’t know. I wanted to be the baby. I wanted that sort of attention. I didn’t want to be independent. I wanted someone to clean up after me without a second thought.

“That’s sad,” Lucy said, her hand wrapping itself over mine. “But...precious. You just want to be a loved little baby. And I think you deserve that.”

“Of course...things change and morph over time. Humiliation often plays a big part in it now. And the idea of diapers as a punishment and all that.”

“I think you can have all those things,” she said softly. “I think you can have whatever you want.”

“What if I want everything?”

She laughed, thankfully seeing through my little exaggeration. “What do you want right now? One thing. No matter how weird or fantastical it might seem - if you could have one thing right now, what do you think you’d want?”

I imagined her opening a door, and a flood of ideas and fantasies pouring out uncontrollably. I wanted so many things. Humiliation. Complex punishments. Exposure. Ashley. I’d be happy doing just about anything. But if I could choose just one thing?

“Actually,” I said. “I think it’d be something kind of simple.”

“Oh?”

“I think, maybe, I’d just want to...sit on your lap?”

She smiled and nodded. “Why don’t you come over here, then” She patted her lap.

“My diaper...it’s very wet,” I said. I stood up, revealing two small wet spots on her chair from where the leg bands of my diaper had been.

“I own a washing machine,” she said. “Come sit on my lap, and bring your soggy diaper with you.”

I quickly scrambled out of my chair and into her lap. Planting my wet bottom there, I once again felt the squish of the full diaper under me. I sat sideways on her, both of my legs dangling over the right side of her lap as her left hand supported my back. I instantaneously felt like a child in a way that I never had before.

“Ooh,” she said. “My leg already feels a little damp.”

“I...I’m sorry,” I said.

“I hope you leak all over me,” she said softly.

Her body lurched forward a little, and her lips found mine.

I felt myself hesitating a little; holding back. It wasn’t that long ago, in this same evening, that I had found myself in a similar situation with Ashley.

“A little nervous?” she asked, aware of my timidness. “Maybe all this is a lot to take in at once.”

What she said was true, but I knew what the hold-up was. I sighed, trying to shake Ashley from my mind. I needed to be in the here-and-now, regardless of anything that happened earlier.

It wasn’t that hard to do. I was, after all, sitting in a beautiful woman’s lap in a soaking wet diaper. She wanted to kiss me, and I wanted to kiss her.

I leaned towards her, letting my lips find hers this time.

Everyone else - and anyone else - faded into the background as our arms wrapped each other and our lips smacked together. I was in this moment now, and it was incredible.

“You’re a very good baby,” she said to me in one of the small moments our lips had pulled apart.

“You’re a good…” There was a word I wanted to say - but it was hard to say it. I never had this opportunity before.

“You can say it,” she cooed softly to me. “Go on. Call me Mommy.”

‘You’re a good Mommy.” Our lips connected again, with both of us moaning loudly.

I found myself in a place I had never been before. I had loved. I had crushed. I had found myself in intimate situations with women many times in my life. But never had my kink been involved. Never had my kink been so welcomed that she was encouraging me to give her more. This feeling of freedom seemed easy to get lost in if I wasn’t careful.

But why not? Why not get lost?

“I...I can do it,” I said to her, pulling my wet lips from hers again. Little strings of saliva ran between our faces.

“Do what?” she asked.

“I can mess,” I said. “I can poop my diaper.”

“Oh?”

I started to slide off of her lap. In my mind, I had imagined myself squatting next to her chair as she watched me.

“Where are you going?’ she asked.

“Well, I was going to…”

“You can do it here.”

“On your lap?”

She nodded.

“But…”

“I want you to stay right here and push it all into your diaper while you sit on my lap.”

If she was okay with it, I was okay with it. Regardless of any of my lingering insecurities, she had managed to make me feel safe. Even in my fantasies, it was hard to shake the idea that in a moment like this - being watched as I filled my diaper - there’d still be the possibility that I’d be shamed or judged after. But I just knew that wouldn’t be the case here.

We were in this together.

“Go on,” she said, whispering in my ear. “I know you want to.”

It shouldn’t have been this easy. There were no doubts and no hesitations. I wanted - needed - to do this for her.

I pushed. I didn’t have to push too hard to set things in motion, and once things were in motion they didn’t stop.

“Unh…” I groaned, my eyes tightly closed. “Umf.” I forgot where I was and got lost in the moment as I let out my little grunts. The back of my diaper loudly expanded as, and I lifted my body a little to make more room. She let me have the moment, not interrupting or interfering beyond a supportive hand that was gently rubbing my back.

“Did you get it all out?” she finally asked after I had paused for a few quiet moments.

I had a little something left. “Unnh…” One final push and I squeezed just a little more into the diaper. My bowels were empty and my diaper was full. I was proud of myself.

“Oh my,” she cooed. “Did you do all that for me?”

I nodded.

Her hand was on the back of my diaper, feeling the firm mass through the diaper. I lowered myself back down onto her lap completely again, feeling the contents of the diaper spread and squish.

“It’s warm,” she said. “And stinky.”

I felt myself blush. “Sorry…”

“For what?” Her mouth was right next to my ear, and every word that she softly said into it seemed to permeate the pleasure-center of my brain. “This is what babies do, isn’t it? They make big stinky messes in their diapers. They can’t help it.”

It was all very intoxicating. It could’ve literally been the alcohol, of course, though it seemed like much more than that. This moment and everything about it was euphoric.

I changed my position on her lap, straddling her waist with my legs so that I could face her head-on. I leaned in, kissing her again, and both of her hands clutched my diaper. As we made out, she squeezed and manipulated the diaper, playing with it like it was clay. Feeling the wet filthy mess shift around against my skin as we kissed was blissful and a pleasure I never knew I wanted.

“We could do this all night,” she said.

“Why don’t we?”

“Because you need to get your diaper changed.”

I nodded.

“And I know you can’t see it right now,” she added. “But across the street? At the window where that couple has sex? They’re there now. Watching us.”

She smiled, looking as content as I felt.

I didn’t even care.