Still Awake? [Tier 3 Exclusive] (Patreon)

I’m not asleep, but I’m not really awake either. My phone is still on, clutched tightly in my hand–my thumb might have been auto-scrolling through some random social media feed while the rest of my body shut down.

“Yeah?” I say, groggily, in response to the timid knock on my bedroom door.

There’s only one person that it could be, though it’s pretty surprising. Not only is it almost 2 in the morning, but she and I barely talk during the day. If she needs something now, it almost has to be an emergency.

The door opens, just a crack, letting the light from the hallway sneak into my room in a narrow, but blinding, strip that hits me right in the face.

Annie is standing in the doorway in just a long tee. “Dean? Are, uhm, you awake?”

“I am now,” I say. I try not to sound too bitter about it, but it’s hard to tell how it actually comes off.

“Do you mind if I come in for a minute?”

“No,” I say. I quickly check to make sure my underwear is on and that my bed sheet is still pulled up past my waist. “Come on in.”

“I’m so sorry to bother you,” she says. She does seem genuinely apologetic.

“Is everything okay?”

“I just…I’m having trouble getting to sleep.”

“Oh. Well…I think we have some pills in the medicine cabinet if you want. I’ve never used them myself, but Scott swears they work.”

“N-no,” she says, scratching her head nervously. “I think the problem is…Scott.”

This woke me up a little more, if only because I need to think about what she means by that. “How can Scott be the problem? He’s not even here.”

“Exactly,” she says. “I’ve, uh, gotten used to sleeping with someone else in the bed. And with him being away…I’m not really used to having to sleep alone again.”

“Right,” I said, not really processing what she was saying for a moment. But the words quickly caught up with me, forcing my eyes wide open. “Wait. Are you asking if you can…?”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” she said with pleading eyes. “I was going to try and get through another night by myself. But I’ve slept so poorly the last few nights and…I just need a good night of sleep.”

“I dunno about this, Annie. If Scott knew, I don’t think that he’d…”

“But he doesn’t have to know,” she says. “And we’re not going to do anything bad. I just need to get some sleep, and I need there to be someone else in the bed with me.”

I feel my face scrunch up as I consider all the ways in which this seems like a poor decision. Scott’s not just my roommate, he’s my best friend. I’d never think to betray him by sleeping with his girlfriend.

But…

There’s sleeping with his girlfriend and there’s…sleeping with his girlfriend. If what she says is true, this is literally just sleep. Just two bodies in a bed. And, really now, is that all that bad? I’m doing her a favor. I’m being nice.

“Okay,” I say hesitantly. “And I know we’re not actually doing anything wrong, but…maybe we just don’t tell Scott about this? For his own peace of mind.”

“That’s fine,” she says. There’s some reluctance in her voice–I suspect she doesn’t like keeping that a secret any more than I do. But we both seem to be on the same page that it’s for the best.

I slide over to the far end of my bed that meets the wall, giving her all the space that she needs. Her dainty body doesn’t need much, and she eases herself into the opposite end of the bed.

“Thank you,” she says, laying so that her back is to me.

Her thick, dark, hair cascades down onto the mattress between us, and I fight the temptation to run my hands through it.

“O-of course.”

A few minutes pass, the bedroom once again falling into complete silence. Except now I’m the one who can’t sleep. I’m just staring at Annie’s back, thinking about things I shouldn’t. It’s been a while since someone’s slept in this bed with me. It seems especially cruel that now that someone else is here, I can’t touch her.

“Dean?” she says, so quietly that I barely hear her. If I was asleep, I probably wouldn’t have stirred.

“Yes?”

“You’re awake? Too?”

“So it would seem.”

She sighs. “I’m sorry. I really appreciate you letting me come into your bed with you. But…I don’t think this is working.”

“No?”

“It’s not your fault,” she says. “It’s just that…I think there’s more to it than just sleeping in the same bed as someone.”

“Well…what else is it? What else do you need?”

“No, no,” she says. “I can’t ask for anything else. It’d be bad.”

“I just want to help you get a decent night of sleep,” I say. “So if there’s something I can do…”

“I’d be asking too much.”

“It’s not a crime to just say what you need.”

“I think I need to be, like, cuddled,” she says. She continues to look away from me, so I can’t see her face. But I imagine that she’s blushing. I’m blushing.

“Cuddled,” I repeat aloud, though I’m sort of just talking to myself. “That doesn’t seem that bad.”

“I don’t know…”

“Look, I don’t know if it’s good or bad or what, but if you need to cuddle with someone to get to sleep…I’m offering.”

“I don’t think I could…”

“I’m not saying that you have to,” I say. “I’m just throwing it out there. If you want to, I’m willing.”

“Thank you,” she says.

The room falls into silence again, lasting a few minutes. I’m not falling asleep, and I’m pretty sure that she isn’t either.

“Actually,” she finally says. “Maybe we can cuddle? But just for a little bit.”

“Sure,” I say. A ‘little bit,’ doesn’t seem all that realistic to me–how does one stop cuddling if you need to be cuddled until you fall asleep?

She slowly rolls over to face me, and we simultaneously scooch towards each other in the center of the bed.

“I-I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m not exactly an expert cuddler. So you need to tell me what you need.”

“If you just put your arm around me,” she says, “and maybe pull me a little closer…”

I do as she asks, but a new wrinkle has developed–this closeness to a cute girl in bed has a rather arousing effect on me. I’m nervous to pull her any closer, lest I end up pressing my erection against her.

“Could I, maybe, get a little closer?” she asks.

“W-well, I…”

She doesn’t wait for an answer and slides closer, pressing her body against mine. My hard cock seems perfectly positioned to be pressed against her pelvis.

“Oh…” she says, feeling it.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No,” she says softly. “Don’t apologize.”

“It’s just been a while since I was in bed with someone. And, uh, you’re really cute and…that doesn’t help.”

She giggles a little. “I don’t mind.”

“I won’t…do anything,” I say. I’m not even sure what that means. Does that imply a promise that I won’t just…force sex on her. A good promise to make, I suppose, but it sounds creepy to have to say.

“It feels good,” she says, her voice again so hushed that I can barely even hear her–even when the rest of the house is deathly silent. “I like having it pressed against me.”

“Okay,” I say. “But tell me if you start to feel uncomfortable.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem. But I will, thank you.”

My arms are wrapped around her, and she’s wrapped her arms around me. My hard cock is still pressed into her. I could just be imagining it–my swelling hormones can’t be trusted–but I swear that I feel her body grinding against me. Ever so slightly.

I don’t really think about it, I just let one of my hands slowly slide down her back towards her bottom. By the time I make it to her lower back, I realize what I’m doing and I pause, afraid to go any further.

“I’m sorry,” I say again.

“Sorry for what?”

“I…shouldn’t be…”

“I don’t mind,” she says. “But…”

That last word falls on deaf ears, because my hand has already slid down to her ass. I have no intent of doing anything beyond resting my hand there. Except…something feels off. It’d be hard to explain what felt off, only that something wasn’t right.

“I should have told you,” she says. It sounds like she needs to finish that thought, but she falls silent again.

Should have told me what?

It doesn’t feel like panties between her oversized t-shirt and her ass. It feels too thick. Padded?

I’m tempted to write it off and ignore it. Some sort of feminine pad, maybe, or just–I don’t know–some sort of sleeping underwear that I just don’t know anything about?

But, she claims that she should have told me.

“What should you have told me?” I ask.

“About what I’m wearing?”

Reflexively, my hand squeezes her bottom a little, trying to get a better feel for what it may be. I still have no idea.

“I have no idea what it is,” I say.

“A, uhm, pull-up?”

That means absolutely nothing to me. “Is that, like, a kind of panty?”

“N-no,” she says, taking a deep breath. Again, I could swear that her hips were ever-so-slightly rubbing against my still-erect cock. “Uhm…pull-ups?”

“I still don’t know what those are.”

“Like…for little kids? Uh…diapers?”

Okay. Pull-Ups. I know what those are. Growing up, the ‘I’m a big kid now’ song had been extremely commonplace in my Saturday morning cartoon watching. I just didn’t expect Annie, of all people, to be wearing one now. In my bed, as she was pressed against me.

“I had no idea,” I say. “Do you have, like, accidents?”

There’s a pause. A pause so long, in fact, that for a moment I wonder if she has actually fallen asleep.

“No,” she says.

“Oh.” I have many follow up questions, but I keep my mouth shut for the time being.

“I…like them,” she says.

“Does Scott know?”

She nods. “But…he doesn’t really get it.”

“No offense,” I say. “But I’m not sure that I do either.”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “It was probably pretty silly of me to be wearing them when I came into your bed. I wasn’t thinking about it at the time and…”

“Stop,” I say. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“Thank you,” she says, snuggling against me even closer than she had been.

I can’t help myself, and I gently rub the padding through her tee, eliciting a small moan from her. I could be misinterpreting, but it sounds like an invitation to me. I carefully grip her shirt, pulling it up to her hips. I can’t see her pull-up from this angle, but I can better feel it now–unobstructed. The little noises she makes certainly suggest contentedness on her part.

“Actually, I think I like it,” I whisper to her.

“R-really?”

“Mmhmm.”

“That makes me happy,” she says.

“Scott doesn’t like it?”

“I don’t think he hates it. He just doesn’t really seem to know what to do with it.”

“What do you want him to do with it?”

“I…I don’t know…”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” I say, laughing a little. “You can tell me. What do you want?”

“Naughty things.”

I didn’t think I could get any harder, but I feel like I’m absolutely throbbing now. “You can tell me, if you want to.”

“But…”

“Only if you want to. And just because you say something doesn’t mean we have to, like, do it. Maybe it’d feel good just to get it off your chest.”

“But it’d have to be a secret,” she said.

“Of course.”

“Just between you and me?”

“I’d never tell a soul.”

“Even Scott?”

“Especially Scott.”

Her hips gyrated against my hard cock again. “Okay.”

“Whenever you’re ready. Just…talk.”

Another moment or three go by, mostly silent. I can still hear her little breaths–the warm air being pushed against my bare chest. And there’s the slightest sound coming from her pull-up as she slowly rubs the front of it against my hard cock.

“I want to be Daddy’s Little Girl.”

I give her another moment to continue that thought, but she falls silent again. “Take your time.”

“I wear pull-ups now because I can buy them at the store and I can fit into them,” she says, finally continuing. “But…Daddy would put me in big thick diapers.”

“Because you’re too small for pull-ups?” I ask. “Is that right?”

“Y-yes,” she says. I can’t see her face, but I can hear the pleasure in her tone. That was exactly the right answer.

“What else?”

“Daddy would stick pacifiers and baby bottles in my mouth. And make me eat baby food.”

“And you’d like that?”

“Very much.”

“What else?”

“He wouldn’t allow me to walk anywhere. I’d have to crawl like a baby. Or he’d carry me. Maybe…push me around in a stroller.”

“Even in public?”

She sighs. I feel like I can read her mind–she’s said far too much already, but she’s unwilling to stop now. She’s going to put it all out there, no matter how crazy or unhinged it sounds.

“Especially in public,” she says. “Daddy tells everyone that I’m his baby. He calls my friends and tells them that I’m back in diapers now. He invites them to the house where he makes me crawl around on the ground in just my diaper while they drink and laugh together. Soon, everybody knows that I’m just a pathetic baby who needs her diapers.”

“Because…”

“Because I use them. I wet them. And I, uhm…”

She struggles on the words. I could let her off the hook, but I don’t think she wants that. “Go on,” I encourage. “You can say it.”

“I mess myself too. No matter where I am, or who is around. I poop my pants like a baby. And Daddy has to change me. He might even change me right there, on the spot. In front of everyone.”

“Do you do that now?” I ask. “Use your pull-ups?”

“Sometimes.”

“You feel dry now.”

“Well…”

It happens so quickly, so suddenly, that I can hardly believe it’s happening at all. Her pull-up–the front of it that she continues to grind against me–suddenly feels warmer. Bulkier. Heavier.

“Are you wetting yourself right now?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“In my bed?”

“Yes. Yes, sir.”

Sir. I like that. It’s not Daddy, but I’ll take what I can get.

“What a naughty little girl,” I say. “Wetting yourself while cuddling?”

I had taken a gamble on whether it’d be better to call her a ‘good girl’ or a ‘bad girl.’ I went with my gut and it seems to have paid off, judging by the chorus of moans coming from her mouth as she begins to more overtly hump me in her soggy pull-up. She seems a little less contained. Desperate and needy. Slipping into a persona that not even she may even know all that well.

“I know,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think you’re sorry at all.”

“I…I can’t help it.”

“Why? Because you’re such a little girl? Such a baby?”

She tries to say words, but they come out garbled and incoherent. Something akin to “Uhhhnnhhhuff…”

“I want to know more,” I say. “Tell me more about what Daddy does.”

“Yes, sir,” she says, trying to compose herself a little. “He…fucks me.”

“Of course he does.”

“In my diaper. My…dirty diaper. He forces me down on the ground, pulls open my dirty diaper, and fucks me.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere. It doesn’t matter where. My friends are there. They’re already laughing at me because I’m wearing a diaper. And because I pooped my pants. And because Daddy shoved spoonfuls of baby food into my mouth, and it made a huge mess of my face. And he makes me suck his cock like that. But only for a minute, because he wants to fuck me in my diaper. And they all watch him do it. Amber. Lindsey. Katie. Zoe. They hold me down while he does it.”

Her raw passion is infectious, and I find myself wanting to see that same scenario play out. She’s grinding against me, but I’m grinding against her.

“He pulls out at the very end,” she continues. “And he shoots his load into my diaper. And I’m left there on the floor like that while my friends clean off his cock.”

“You want some very naughty things.”

“I’m a bad girl.”

“And Scott? He has no idea how naughty you are? How naughty you want to be?”

“He…I don’t think we want the same things.”

“I know I shouldn’t say this. But…I want those things.”

“No,” she says. “You probably shouldn’t say that.”

“Oops.”

“Sir?”

“Yes, Baby?”

“I…want you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please, sir. Please.”

I’m in no shape to dwell on the morals of our situation. I’m incapable of thinking about Scott, who is somewhere out of the state on business. All I know is that she’s asked so nicely. And the last thing I want to do is let her down.

“But you’re leaving your soggy diaper on,” I say.

“Yes, sir.”

I could–should, perhaps–be taking the reins here, but Annie is so worked up that she’s become a sexual juggernaut. She rolls me onto my back, pulling open my underwear so that my cock is exposed. She barely spends a second looking it over before positioning her body above mine. She pulls the bottom of her sagging pull-up aside–just enough for me to access her pussy while she still wears it.

Her body drops onto me, my cock effortlessly consumed within her. She does most of the work, throwing her body up and down on my lap recklessly. I come close to asking her to take it easy, if only because I’m afraid of the damage she could do to me, but I bite my tongue. The pleasure that I’m feeling is well worth the risk.

“Am I a good girl?” she asks.

“No. You’re the worst. The absolute worst. The naughtiest, most disgusting, little baby I’ve ever met.”

“Thank you, sir. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Why are you in pull-ups? Don’t you know that you belong in diapers?”

“I know, sir. I…”

“I’ll buy you them.”

“S-sir…”

“But you’ll have to come wear them in bed with me again.”

“Y-yes, sir…”

“And if you’re going to dress like a baby, you best act like one.”

“I-I will, sir. Promise.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Will you change me, sir?”

“Tonight? After we’re done?”

“Y-yes, sir. But later, too. When I have actual diapers.”

“Of course.”

“Even if I…”

“You promised me you’d act like a baby. So I can only assume you’ll soil yourself too.”

“And…and…?”

“I’ll change your smelly bottom, Baby.”

“Please, sir. Oh god. Please.”

“You can have anything you want. You can…”

“I…I’m coming. I’m coming, sir. I’m coming…”

I’m ready to blow, myself. I may not have her friend Zoe’s phone number handy, but I can at least fulfill part of her fantasy. I quickly pull myself out from her and cross my fingers that my load goes where I want it to.

“Ohhh, godddd,” she moans as she collapses into the bed next to me, clutching her pull-up with her hand–pressing it against herself. “Thank you, sir.”

“It was my pleasure.” A vast understatement. “I can, if you want, take care of that pull up for you.”

“No,” she says, her body squishing up against mine again. “I’m too sleepy.”

I look at my alarm clock, having forgotten how this started. Was it really almost 3 AM now? I wrap my arms around her again.

“It can wait until morning.”

“Thank you,” she says.

“I know we shouldn’t be thinking about this right now,” I say. “But…Scott? What are we supposed to do? Say? Because, like, what if I want to do this again with you and…”

The sound of her purr-like snores cut me off. I laugh, actually thankful that she didn’t hear any of that. I don’t want to talk about those things either. Certainly not now.

I close my eyes too, making a mental note to start researching where one buys adult diapers from. And a large stroller. Not because I’m definitely going to buy them. But because I’m just curious. Just in case.