Decisions in the Dark (Tumblr Original)

Crap. What to do now?

I stare up at the ceiling in the darkness, listening passively to Jordan’s gentle breathing beside me. Lucky him, falling asleep so soundly like that. I guess it’s normal for a guy to pass out after such a sexy romp - though like usual he was nice enough to wait up while I took care of flushing things out afterwards with a good pee. Sure, it may not seem very romantic - but then again, neither is a UTI. Hence the multiple cups of water I always guzzle before getting it on!

I shift slightly amid the warm sheets, feeling the unfamiliar bulk beneath me… the bulk that has so much to do with why I’m awake right now. Jordan’s voice echoes in my memory as I stare at the banded pattern of cool moonlight on the wall beside me. “Honey, I know it’s not…you know, typical or anything. But I gotta say,” and even now I can see the nervous, half-apologetic grin on his handsome face. “Damn, the thought of you wearing a bit of extra padding makes me horny as hell…” He’s been so up-front and honest with me about his kink that now, after nearly four years of marriage, I guess I’m more accustomed to it than I ever thought I could be. So what if he likes a bit of crinkly underwear? I’ve come to realize. He isn’t harming anyone with it… so why not let him since it makes him so happy?

I’m not quite sure what made me say those things tonight. Maybe it was the amazing sex that had sent my endorphin-soaked brain reeling into another dimension. Whatever. But on a whim I’d emerged from the bathroom with my nightgown held above my waist, my thumb in my mouth for extra effect. “Honey, don’t you think I should wear something a bit more, you know, protective tonight?” I’d lisped in an atrocious imitation of a little kid. “After all, I’se a vewwy wet little giwl…” And holy crap, how he’d lit up. Flushed and confused, with a massive hard-on that belied the fact that he’d just come not fifteen minutes before, he had helped me fumble my way into one of the disposable diapers from his not-so-secret stash… 

And now, here I am six hours later, staring sleeplessly into the dark with a bladder ready to burst thanks to all the water I drank last evening. Normally, like any sane woman I would discreetly slip out of bed and take care of things myself. But now…with this padded situation going on? Well, what am I to do? Jordan won’t really mind if I do take the usual route. He really does understand that this whole diaper thing really doesn’t do it for me, and I know without a doubt that he’ll be the last person in the world to pressure me to, you know, use it as intended…

But even as I envision slipping out of bed, quietly removing and discarding the diaper, taking care of business, and creeping softly back into bed, I can also envision something quite different: the sleepy look of surprise on his gorgeously unkempt, unshaven face when his hand brushes down over this padding between my legs…the look of radiant, wondering delight that will come as he feels the swollen state of the diaper…and yes, the hardening stiffness within his boxers pressing against my smooth thigh. God, I love him, plain and simple. I want him. I need him to love me, to lust after me, to find his pleasure and delight and ecstasy in me. And well…if I can bring him so much closer to bliss with such a simple act, why not do it?

And so, I take a deep breath. I squeeze shut my eyes, and push…with no results. Nothing? I press again, bearing down, willing my body to release the liquid pressure that has been building within me all this time. And still - nothing. Dammit, really? Is this all the result of years of training? I suppose so…but I’m not willing to admit defeat. Not that easily.

Out of the bed. Shit, it’s cold! Into the slippers, into the bathroom. No, I’m not giving in, I swear. I just need something familiar, something to trick my silly subconscious into letting go. And I know just what that something is, too: the toilet. Wow, it’s odd, hiking up my nightgown, lowering myself down on that cold seat with something completely unfamiliar still wrapped around my waist, a soft barrier between me and that familiar toilet. And yet…it might be just what I need. Relax, let go, just pretend you’re doing it all normally. Let’s see: water, rain, trickling mountain streams, ocean waves…

And then it comes, that first warm trickle. My muscles clench out of startled instinct, but I force them to relax again. No, this is precisely what I want, I tell myself as the first rivulet trickles wetly past my most intimate regions. Relax. You got this, girl. Just… pee… The second spurt comes more easily, and then a third…and before I know it, I feel it growing to the familiar steady hiss of relief. But oh, what a different sensation! No loud tinkling into the toilet bowl - just a gentle flood of warmth between my legs, spreading up over my sensitive lady bits, backwards along my butt, radiating outward… I draw a ragged breath in the darkness, and bear down afresh, resulting in an even stronger flood that pools briefly beneath me before being quickly subsumed into the warming padding of the diaper.

This is it. It’s real. It’s happening. I, a full-grown adult woman, am peeing myself…for him.

Once the flood has finally subsided, I stand up gingerly, my hand tentatively exploring the crotch and back of this now-soiled garment. I am half expecting to feel some errant trickle, some telltale drops of moisture seeping out. It can’t have all been absorbed just like that…right? But all my fingers sense as they brush over my padded ass is that same smooth plastic: warmer and bulkier now than before, naturally, but solidly and resolutely dry. It actually works, I muse idiotically as I slip back into the bedroom, shuffling quietly back toward my sleeping husband, feeling the unfamiliar weight of the now-wet diaper slipping squishily between my thighs. I’m not quite sure I like the idea of sleeping in my own, you know… But once more I think of my sweetheart’s face, of the wonder in his eyes when he sees what I’ve done for him. I want that, no matter what.

And so, I smile into the night…and slip gently back into bed, taking only a passing notice of the warm squish beneath me as I settle back into the pillows. Whatever. What is done is done now, I muse as I close my eyes. Whether this was a good decision or not, only the morning will say. But right now, oddly enough, something deep inside me is whispering that this time, I’ve made the right decision.

And somehow, I think Jordan will agree.