“Oopsy baby. Did you have an accident?”
He clings to me under the covers.
“That’s why I put you in a diaper for a nap. You were so insistent that you didn’t need it. It kiiind of smells like you did, though.”
He can feel wetness pressing up against his front and his behind. He snuggles his head against my chest.
“Are you embarrassed? Embarrassed that I can strip your confidence and agency away so easily?” I run my fingers through his hair. It’s so cute the way he’ll doze off in the sun while I read in bed. I could tell he might be messing just from the way he was twitching in his sleep. “Or are you just feeling embarrassed that you never grew out of this?”
He doesn’t say anything, pressing his face harder against me.
“You know, even most adult bedwetters still have a handle on the solid side of things. Did you realize you had to go poop before you fell asleep?”
He shakes his head into my chest. I bet he wishes he could shrink down and vanish. He’s told me that before. Just how embarrassing it is when this happens. Especially when I comment about it. So I can’t help myself.
I push my hand against the back of his diaper, letting his mess squish against him. I can feel him trembling and I know it’s turning him on despite his efforts to control himself and calm down.
“I’m so glad you can be safe with me.” I kiss his head, and he reacts, pulling his face away from me and scooting up so that our faces are level and I can kiss him on the mouth. After we lock lips a couple of times he gets needy, panting, mouth slightly open, trying to get more.
“No, no more than that, sweetheart. You need to earn it, okay? Just little kisses from Momma now.”
He closes his mouth reluctantly, still breathing hard through his nose.
“You’re so worked up, aren’t you? I guess it’s been a while since you got some relief, hasn’t it?” I remove his arms from around me and lay him on his back, straddling him.
“Do you think you can do it just from me humping you? I can tell you’re really needy but I don’t really want to do anything else with someone in a poopy diaper.”
He grimaces, hips rocking from side to side against the sheets.
“Careful, baby. Don’t get too wiggly and make a mess.”
He slips two fingers into his mouth and starts sucking, hard. His diaper bulge fits so perfectly between my legs and it feels to good. I put my hands on his shoulders and start to rock slowly against him, pressing my pelvis into him.
I like listen to his little grunts. They slowly turn into moans. “What feels better?” I ask. “Me rubbing on you or your mess squishing against your bottom?”
“You,” he says breathlessly, head arching back on the pillow.
“Aww.” I lean down to kiss him, letting him have just a little bit more before I raise my head again. I love watching him from above as he struggles and wiggles.
“I can’t finish,” he breathes. “I c-can’t…I can’t do it. There’s too much padding.”
I climb off him and he whines and shudders.
“That’s just too bad then. I have to change. You got me kind of sweaty while you were sleeping.” I shift my legs over the side of the bed and stand up, crossing the room to my dresser. I pull my shirt off and hunt through the drawers. “That’s what’s so funny. You get the bed all damp no matter what you’re wearing.”
He whines again. “Mommaaaa…I want to finish.”
“Uh-huh. I hear you, baby.” I open the bottom drawer of his blue and green dresser and get him a pair of training pants and shorts.
I cross back over to the bed and stand over him. “But what you need right now is a change. We can finish with all that later. I think it’s a lot more important that you don’t have a poopy butt than that you get to cum. Don’t you think so, honey?”
“Maybe this will make you feel better. I know you say you only want it when you’re tired, but I know you like it, don’t you?” I slide his pacifier into his mouth and he starts sucking right away, one hand pressing it closer to his lips.
“There’s my perfect boy. Stand up so I can change you on the floor.” His legs are actually trembling as he stands, and I see goosebumps rising on his skin.
“Somebody’s going to need a sweater, too.” I shuffle the clothes in his drawer again and pull out a new striped tshirt and his wool sweater with the white ducks knitted into the pattern.
The change is pretty uneventful, which is fun for me, but not for him. I pretend not to notice his hips bucking and wiggling while I wipe him down. “All done. I need to go wash my hands.”
“I’m not done yet,” he calls out while I’m in the bathroom. “I’m not doooone. I need more help!”
“Help with what?” I say, reappearing in the doorway. “You’re all clean now.”
I kneel down and pull his training pants halfway down his legs, making him take them the rest of the way before I pull him to his feet. “Get your shorts on. Okay, now let me pull your sweater over your head.”
“I don’t like the training pants,” he complains as I nudge him out of the bedroom and to the kitchen. He rubs his eyes.
“Cotton training pants are better than a pull-up because you can feel it when you have an accident. I was just reading about it on a pottytraining forum.”
“I don’t wanna wear them,” he whines again. “I don’t wanna.”
“Well, you’re going to. And I’d better not catch you trying to take them off.”
He sits down at the kitchen table.
“You’re still cranky from your nap, huh? It’ll wear off soon. Let me get you a puzzle book or something to help get your brain going again.”
I leave to get his sudoku and when I come back he’s making a snack from the fridge.
“Ooh, good boy. Can you cut some carrots up for me, too?”
I sit across from him and watch him thinking hard as he starts filling out a puzzle. He rests his head on one hand and pulls gently at his hair, chewing on a carrot. His leg is bouncing under the table.
“Distracted by something?” I ask him.
“Noo…Momma no. You’re so mean.”
