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Thank You! I’ve been talking to a few and everyone seems very friendly! 

COCOA PUFFS? “Ian, what are you doing here?” Suzie was shocked. At seven-thirty it was still dark outside, and breakfast was barely underway. A few of the girls had final exams at eight, and they were the only ones to have made their way downstairs. “I have an exam at ten, and rather than hang around my office I asked Pris to drop me here. I thought I'd do breakfast, then walk over to campus with the girls. Can you feed a hungry professor aching for something more substantial than breast milk?” “How about bacon and eggs, hash browns, and biscuits hot out of the oven? Juice and coffee, with homemade strawberry jam if you've packed your sweet tooth.” “Paradise! I may start eating here every day! But I also need to make a phone call … international.” “Ooh, intriguing. Irina, perhaps?” “No, a contact in Sicily … a Mafia capo who does leg work for the Agency.” “Ooh, even better! Real undercover stuff.” “Yeah, one of those conversations that never took place between two people who were never there.” “Better still. Can I listen in?” “Why not? In fact, you can make the call. Tell Antonio that you are phoning from Minneapolis, give him your number, and ask him to call you right back on a secure line. He'll gather up his change and head out to a phone booth. If he needs to reverse the charges ...” “I'll accept the call. Oh wow, my first assignment as a spy! If I do well, will your friends hire me? I think I'd make a great secret agent!” Ian laughed. Suzie and Vickie were cut from the same cloth, and he had absolutely no idea why he had fallen so deeply in love with one but not the other. But they were equally wild in bed, and he was looking forward to having children with both of them. Communal living was tiring, but it was also fun. “Let's grab some coffee before hitting the office,” Suzie suggested as she headed for the kichen. “Works for me,” Ian casually replied as he followed in her wake, nodding at the girls as he passed. Breakfast looked good. . . . . “Reiko, does John have any idea how hot that hospital diaper makes you look? Honestly, Ted Norris couldn't stop staring at you, and Jim Stone was actually drooling!” Becky had caught up with Reiko in the cafeteria; like most of the staff on first shift, they stopped for a coffee each morning before heading upstairs. It was an opportunity to exchange greetings with their colleagues and catch up on the latest gossip. “Oh, he knows,” Reiko grinned, “and he's not worried at all. He doesn't care what I wear to work; indeed, he encourages me to change things up-- silk panties one day and one of these monsters the next. Keep them guessing so that they'll stop taking me for granted. So, far it's working like a charm, but spread the word. Reiko Matsumora is spoken for … period, end of story. So, our sex starved Residents can look, but no can touch. Clear?” “Clear,” Becky laughed. For years the shoe had been on the other foot, Reiko swooning over Derek Eastman one week and Ted Norris the next, only to be ignored by both. She had never paired off with anyone on the staff, but now that she had stepped out of the shadows she had become a hot commodity. If the new Reiko Matsumora wanted to look down her nose at men who had never given her the time of day, Becky thought that she had earned the right. “So, your relationship is about more than kinky sex,” Becky pressed. If her colleague and friend was smitten, she wanted it to be for the right reasons. “Head over heels,” Reiko sighed. “Both of us. The sex is fantastic, but we also do housework as a couple … go shopping together. We share our lives, not just a mattress.” “Hold on to him! A guy who knows how to use a vacuum cleaner is a keeper!” “And he doesn't mind changing a dirty diaper. Mine at present, but think about it, Becks, think about it. John wants children, and he doesn't faint at the sight of a dirty diaper. Our future truly has a silver lining!” “And where does this leave your career?” “John and I are moving into a townhouse in Rita's complex at the end of the year. So, we'll be living on the edge of their commune, and when the time comes raising our children alongside theirs. Sharing the load will allow us to keep our jobs, but with some compromises … different shifts, reduced hours, that sort of thing. We'll make it up as we go along.” “Speaking of work,” Becky continued as she entered the code and opened the door to the Psych ward, “it's time to put on our game faces ...” . . . . “When Antonio comes on the line, identify yourself but don't mention my name. His phone is definitely tapped, and your conversation will be taped. I don't know how many people will eventually hear it, but the list will explode if my name comes up. You might start off by letting him know that you and Spats have a date this evening, and you're looking for some advice. Mention straight out that you know his line is tapped, and you don't want Interpol listening in. Antonio will agree, and will suggest a call back on a secure line if you don't beat him to the punch. And remember, Spats' real name is Vincent, and he and Antonio are cousins.” “Got it. I'm going to ask him straight out what Spats likes to drink so that I can have his beverage of choice on hand. That will lay down a false trail which will throw the Italian version of the FBI off the scent. Italy does have an FBI, doesn't it?” “Sure, the Carabinieri. Good thinking.” “Okay, Secret Agent Man, make the call. I'm ready.” “Pronto.” Antonio picked up on the third ring. “Mister Belmondo, my name is Susan Marshall … Suzie to my friends, one of whom is your cousin Vincent. I'm in Minneapolis, and I need your advice. Vincent and I have a date this evening, and I want to make him feel at home. Can you tell me what he likes to drink?” “Sambuca, either Molinari or Romana if you can find them. Signora Marshall, this is what you Americans call a party line, so someone may be listening in. If you will give me your number, I will call you back in a few minutes on a private line.” “An excellent idea, Signor Belmondo. Do you have a pen and paper to hand?” “I do.” Suzie slowly transmitted her area code and number before hanging up. She did not ask if he wanted her to repeat it; that, she figured, would be regarded as an insult by someone of Antonio's stature. “Well done, Suzie,” Ian gushed. “You're a natural. If we're not careful, Donnie really will try and recruit you. Lady spies have ways of uncovering secrets that us guys rarely get a chance to use.” “I'm sure,” Suzie laughed. “Just think, this would take scalp hunting to a whole different level!” “Amen,” Ian managed before he returned to his coffee. “We're on,” Suzie exclaimed when the phone rang. Engaging the speaker phone, she picked up. “Ian, this was nicely done,” Antonio began. “Signora Marshall would have fooled me if I did not know you so well. To what do I owe this call?” “A family matter. Is Aldo still surfing, or has he moved on to less strenuous activities?” “My son still rules the Playa di Catania,” Antonio laughed; “but Dario and Fabio are pushing him hard.” “Antonio's grandsons,” Ian whispered. “Good morning, my friend,” Ian called out. “The surf in your back yard builds from the southeast; has Aldo surfed the Isola delle Femmine? It breaks from the northwest, and in the winter the water is cold enough to demand a wet suit. I need someone with cold water experience who can master heavy waves from the northwest; reefs and sharks are both in play.” “Aldo would love it,” Antonio exclaimed; “Dario and Fabio as well. But no, no one in our family will have surfed the waters around Palermo. Still, I can arrange it if the matter is pressing.” “Pressing, and very dangerous, so much so that a night approach is warranted.” “You've found her.” It was a statement, not a question. “I believe so … on an island off the coast of southern California. She is well guarded … probably mercenaries. I will have to mount an operation, but I need someone to go ashore and gather intelligence. Aldo is experienced, and I can train him here in Minnesota. Cold water surfing on Lake Superior in December is the most challenging on earth. The waves are very heavy, much more than what he will encounter on the coast. He can enjoy himself at Malibu and Rincon, two of my old haunts, but they will seem very tame after Stoney Point.” “Aldo will want to bring my grandsons. But you will have to introduce them to some of your famous California girls. They are both of an age ...” “I'll see what I can do,” Ian laughed, “but they might find Minnesota sorority girls very much to their liking. Suzie manages a house with more than fifty girls in residence, aged eighteen to twenty-two. How old are the boys now?” “Dario is twenty-one and Fabio nineteen.” “And this is the end of term, which means that party season is just around the corner. They will like it here.” “I will make some calls … talk to our friends in Palermo. It should not be a problem. When do you think you would want him to fly to America?” “I will talk with Vincent this evening. His people are running surveillance on the west coast. Hopefully, he will have something to tell me.” “I will call Signora Marshall tomorrow morning your time. A specific date when Dario and Fabio might visit would be sufficient; if anyone should be eavesdropping, this will tell them nothing of consequence.” “Agreed. Thank you, Don Belmondo. Please give my best wishes to your lovely wife. I continue to put the recipes she has shared with me to good use. Ciao.” . . . . As he approached the turnoff for the service road, Gary Macklin glanced off to his right. Sure enough, the black caddie was parked on the shoulder. Jerry Spagnoli, still dressed to the nines, was leaning against the trunk. Making the turn, Gary eased off the accelerator and allowed the truck to drift to a halt on the hard packed earth. He had the manifest for the load on the passenger seat. It was accurate; he had inventoried the cartons and crates back at the warehouse to make sure that everything was on the up and up. “Let's get to it,” Spagnoli barked as Gary jumped down from the cab and passed him the manifest. “I looked the shipment over before I left the shop; everything's in order.” Gary wanted to get the Local off his back so that he could offload down at the pier and get back on the road. He had one more drop, at the Camarillo State Mental Hospital, before he could head back to San Fernando. “All of this going to the one pier,” Johnny asked when Gary lowered the liftgate and they climbed aboard. Gary couldn't figure out why the steward was carrying a large satchel bag over his shoulder. “I've got another delivery after this one,” Gary explained. Marlin Hunter and then the state mental hospital; nothing perishable in either drop.” “Okay, let's see what we're looking at,” Johnny murmured as he scanned the manifest. He was searching for two items in particular, breakfast cereal and soy milk. “Let's start with this one,” Johnny ordered as he fingered the entry for cereals. “Pull it out.” “You're not going to open the box, are you?” “Yeah. Cereal by weight is almost identical to marijuana, so we're going to check it out.” “But, but ...” “No buts, Macklin. And stop worrying. I've got a lotta cereal in the trunk. We just switch boxes.” “O … okay.” Gary found the carton, loosened the strap, and pulled it out of the stack. Johnny opened the satchel and pulled out a utility knife. The cereals were housed in a large cardboard box secured with packing tape. It took him mere seconds to slit the tape and open the box. “But how are we gonna reseal it,” Gary stammered. “With fresh tape,” Johnny answered confidently. “By the time I get done, no one will ever suspect that this carton has been opened.” “O … okay.” “Now let's see what we have here. Shredded wheat … yeah, good choice. Cheerios, Frosted Flakes … not bad.” Johnny attacked the box of Cheerios with his knife and poured the cereal into his bag. “Don't panic, Macklin; I've got a box just like it in the trunk.” “What the fuck!” Johnny had gone back to rummaging around in the carton. “Who the hell would be eating Cocoa Puffs and Rice Krispies on a fishing boat? Is the captain employing child labor?” Gary could only shake his head in wonder. He was as perplexed as Spagnoli appeared to be. “Next, let's scope out the milk products.” “I told you, there are no perishables in the load. Somebody else delivers the fruit, veg, and dairy products. Don't know about the booze.” “Right here, Macklin.” Spagnoli was fingering another entry on the manifest. “Powdered milk never spoils and it won't run down his generator. It's the obvious choice if you figure to be at sea for a while. Great place to hide your stash of heroin.” Shrugging his shoulders, Gary dove back into the pile. It took him a few minutes to find the right box, which Johnny also attacked with his utility knife. “What the hell,” he cursed. "Coconut milk … yeah, maybe. But soy milk? Who the fuck drinks soy milk?” “Asians,” Gary shrugged. For once, he knew the answer. “They're lactose intolerant … can't drink cow's milk. This is what they use. Captain probably has some Asian hands in his crew.” “Makes sense,” Johnny nodded. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his car keys, which he passed to Gary. “Go get me another box of Cheerios out of the trunk, Macklin. I'll get started putting this box back together. No harm, no foul, as the saying goes.” In reality, Johnny was going to drag a camera out of his bag and take pictures of his discoveries. He had hit the mother lode. Soy milk and children's cereals were what Vegas for some unexplained reason was looking for, and he had found them.

Exchanged is amazing. I have red a few of your works before but never Exchanged. Once it got into the thick of things I was hooked. I cannot wait to see what trouble Stacy gets into. Agu! Nya! Nya!

yep i take the flomax  but  the proscar  i did not like the side  effects    geez  i  go   and  afterwards i leak  a  drop

Hm.  I really consider myself a DL...but I'll wear any diaper under the sun as long as I can fit in it.  It could be the most babyish, girly, frilly diaper out there and I'd wear it.  My most babyish right now might be the Rearz Princess Pink ones.  I also have a couple of the original Bambino diapers that have 'Baby' printed all over the landing zone. I just like wearing diapers.