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Pee-play without the diapers!
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By BloncoCraven · Posted
Chapter 3: I went back into the play pen and sipped away at my juice. Trina put on Spongebob Square Pants for me and I got very into watching it. Before I knew it my mom was calling on the phone. I picked up “Hello?” “Ronny, where the hell are you? I stopped by your work and everything was closed.” “Yeah, everything closes at 4:00 there. I tried to call you.” I said calmly. “Well mommy had a very important meeting with a very special man. Where did you end up? Did one of the managers take you home?” “No, I called Trina. She’s watching me now. I’m sitting in a playpen watching SpongeBob.” I rolled my eyes, because I knew she couldn’t see. “Great, I'll be right there.” “TRINA!” I yelled so she would hear me through her headphones. She turned around and looked at me “My mom’s on her way to pick me up.” “Ok, whatever.” Trina leaned back and took a big swig from her pepsi. I couldn’t help but wonder what pepsi tasted like. Soda is a drink for bigger kids than me, so I had never been allowed it. I sat and wondered until we heard a buzz on the door. Trina hit a button on her phone and then stood up. She walked over to me and helped me up. “You’re mommy’s here to pick you up. Lets get your pants back on.” “Yes ma’am.” I hated calling a younger woman ma’am. She helped me out of the playpen and brought my pants over. She held them out for me to step into and I leaned on her shoulder as I did. She pulled them up and around my pull-up swaddled butt and then smacked me on it. I walked over to the door and waited. In some time I heard another buzz and Trina opened the door. My mom was there. She held out her arms expecting a hug and so I hugged her knowing the cost of refusal. “How was your day at work, my big boy?” “It was good. I met a girl named Caitlyn and she uses the same app as me.” I smiled. “Oh that’s great! Is she little like you?” “No, she's a grown up.” “Oh neat, so she could maybe babysit you some time.” “I was thinking that might be fun.” I was only mildly lying. Caitlyn did seem like she would be a better babysitter than what I’m used to, but the main goal would be romantic. Mom turned to Trina “How much do I owe you for watching him?” “Oh well. It was 3 hours so how about $60.” “Oh, of course. Higher rates make sense because it was unexpected.” “Exactly ma’am.” Mom handed over the money and she grabbed my wrist. “Have a nice night!” Trina called out. “Have a nice night, deer.” My mom called back. We walked down the hall, back into the elevator. “We’ll have to arrange for you to have a regular pick up with someone to supervise you after work. I wonder if there are any good adult daycares nearby where you could walk to.” “That could be fun. Go on a little walk after work.” “Although I don’t know if a 7 year old can really be trusted to walk around town by himself like that. Could you find the place or would you even go or try to have fun by yourself?” “I’m good. I can do it and I promise I’ll go!” I begged. “I don’t know. It’s a lot to think about.” I couldn’t help but think of the good parts of having that little space of independence in that walk. Now that I’ll have my own money I’ll be able to stop by any convenience stores on the way for a little snack. Chips and oreos galore. I could even try soda if I can speak with enough confidence. We got to the car and mom put me in the back. She buckled my seatbelt for me then climbed in the front. We drove home. “I really think there's something to that daycare idea." I said. "I guess and you've been growing up a little more lately. Maybe it's time I started trusting you more. Sunday morning I'll get you booked into a daycare program for after work.” “Thank you mommy!" I said in a sing songy voice. I was legitimately happy. More time in daycare also meant less time with Trina. We arrived home and climbed out of the car. We walked in and mom said. "You've still got an hour before bedtime, why don't you go take a bath.” "Ok Mommy.” I agreed. As I walked off mom grabbed the back of my pants and pulled them back. "Where are your training pants?” She looked in and saw my pull-up, “Oh are you back in pull-ups now?” “No, Trina just put me in one because we didn’t have any training pants to change me into after my accident earlier.” “Oh, ok. Well we’ll keep you in them for a few months anyway. I’m getting tired of doing so much laundry.” I bowed my head in shame, demoted back to disposables, I couldn’t believe it. I walked off to the bathroom and took off my clothes, then I ran some really hot water to relax in. Once the tub was full enough I stepped in and sat down, leaning my head against the wall I sat and thought about all the ways my life has gone wrong. Then I recalled my date with Caitlyn tomorrow and it gave me a moment of fleeting hope. “Falling in love again after so many years.” I thought. My mother walked in and cleared the clouds of my dreams. She set down a green plastic bucket full of toys. “I brought you some bath toys and I just wanna make sure you’re cleaning yourself right.” “Ok, thanks mom.” I grabbed two toys from the bucket. A Ripjaws action figure that turns into a squirt gun and a rubber ball Weezing that could suck up water and spray it. Mom grabbed a face cloth and got it wet, she lathered up a bar of soap on it and began scrubbing my arms and chest. She moved down and got my abdomen and scrubbed inside my belly button. She rang out the cloth and re lathered before pushing me forward and scrubbing my back and butt cheeks. Without a word she quickly scrubbed in between my butt cheeks and I tried to squirm away but she held me back by my shoulders. She rang the cloth out again and relathered the soap. “Do you think you can handle doing your special area?” “Yes mommy.” I agreed, embarrassed that she was still asking me all these years later. I took the face cloth and scrubbed every part individually. “Don’t forget to get under the foreskin.” “I won’t.” I peeled it back and cleaned underneath. Then mom took the cloth back and cleaned my legs and feet. She helped me out of the tub and dried me off before she helped me back into my pull-up and slapped my butt. “Alright, go to your room and get your PJ’s on, then come back here and brush your teeth.” I walked back the hallway in nothing but my pull-up and entered my bedroom. Sky blue walls with teddy bear stickers all over them. I grabbed a pair of brown wool pajamas and put them on. I liked these ones because they were soft and had the same texture as my teddy bear from childhood. I grabbed my teddy bear from my bed and went back to the bathroom. “Couldn’t leave the Captain behind could’ya?” “He’s my friend. He makes teeth time less scary.” Mom came up and hugged me “Why are you scared of brushing your teeth, sweet boy?” “Because it burns my gums.” I pouted. “Uh oh. Sounds like somebody’s starting with Gingevitis. I’ll book you a dentist appointment and I’ll also start brushing for you again.” “Ok.” I submitted. I didn’t know what gingivitis was, but I’d do anything to get the burning in my gums to stop. Mom wet the tooth brush under the sink, then she put some toothpaste on. “Open you mouth nice and big for me.” She said and I did. She grabbed the back of my head and put the tooth brush in my mouth making careful effort to brush my gums. “Ok, spit.” She pushed my head into the sink and I spat out the tooth paste then I rinsed my mouth with cool water from the sink. “Good boy, now let's get you into bed.” “My bed time’s not for 20 more minutes, can I play on my phone?” “You can play on your phone for 15 minutes and then you start winding down.” “Thank you mommy!” I said as I kissed her on the cheek and skipped to my room. I sat on the car road mat on my bedroom floor and took out my phone. I saw a message from Caitlyn, she sent a photo. I opened it up and saw her in a selfie from the waist up wearing some kind of black nighty. A great portion of her breasts were exposed and she had an alluring smile and wink on her face. I was very turned on and wanted to send her a photo back. I unbuttoned my pajama shirt and took a picture of my exposed chest hair. First I sent “Wow you’re gorgeous 😍” then I sent her the photo. “Wow, you’re looking cute too!” She sent back. “Thank you!” I said. Then my mom came in. “Alright, time for bed little one.” She took my phone out of my hand and set it on top of my dresser, then she ushered me onto the bed and tucked me in. She kissed me on the cheek and said “Get some good sleep and maybe some day you’ll grow up big and strong.” “Thanks Mommy.” I blushed. Then she left and turned off the light. Thanks! I enjoy this one a lot too! It's got that pee desperation you like so much! -
This is a nice story. Never knew a 20 year old boy babysat. I like it if it was a girl. -
@dlsafrica How are you doing today? Are you feeling any better? Please let us know....a lot of us really do care. -
Chapter 132 Terry turned to me with that determined look she always gets when she’s already made up her mind. Well, she said, brushing her hands on her jeans, let’s go out and get the big cooler into the cabin. She added, almost defensively, I’m still sure the milk is fine. That caught my attention. I’d been wondering about all that milk since we arrived—why she brought so much, why she kept checking on it—but before I could ask what was going on, her mom stepped into the doorway. Where are you two headed?” she asked, eyeing us like she already suspected trouble. I answered before Terry could. We’re just going out to grab the last thing that needs to be brought in from outside. Her mom raised an eyebrow and said, if you’re going out to get the cooler, don’t bother. We grabbed it and brought it in. It’s sitting right here in the kitchen. Terry and I exchanged a quick look—half confusion, half dread—and headed toward the kitchen. The moment we stepped through the doorway, my mom was standing there with her arms crossed, staring at the cooler like it had personally offended her. What the hell is in that thing? she demanded, tapping the lid with her finger. It took two of us to haul it inside, and why is the lid taped shut? The cooler sat on the floor like some suspicious package, duct tape wrapped around the top in thick, uneven strips. Whatever Terry had packed in there, it clearly wasn’t just milk. Terry let out a slow breath, like she’d been waiting for this question. The reason the lid is taped, she said carefully, is because I used dry ice to keep the bags of my breast milk frozen until I could get them into a freezer here. Both moms went quiet. The explanation hung in the air for a second, heavier than the cooler itself. The duct tape suddenly made sense—the rattling sound, the weight, the way Terry kept checking on it like it was something fragile and important. My mom blinked at her. Breast milk? That’s what’s in there? Terry nodded, a little embarrassed but standing her ground. Yeah. A lot of it. I didn’t want it to thaw on the drive up, so I packed it tightly with dry ice. The tape was just to keep the lid sealed so the cold stayed in. Her mom’s expression softened, but she still looked stunned. The cooler, sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, suddenly felt less like a mystery box and more like a vault holding something personal, something she’d worked hard to save. Besty mom ask why did you bring so much of it? Terry took a steady breath before she spoke, like she’d been rehearsing this in her head the whole drive up. I still nurse my two girls at night, she said. And sometimes in the morning, if they ask. It’s only a few times a week now. I know they’ll eventually stop on their own, but for now it helps them settle down and sleep. She glanced between our moms, trying to read their reactions. We’re all comfortable with it, she continued. It’s just part of our routine, and it works for us. Then she looked at me, a little sheepish but still honest. And I know how much Betsy likes my breast milk, so I brought some for her too. I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about me feeding my girls while we’re here, so I packed extra—enough that everything could be done with bottles if that made you more comfortable. The room settled into a thoughtful quiet. The cooler, the tape, the dry ice… it all made sense now. Terry hadn’t been hiding anything; she’d been trying to be respectful, prepared, and considerate of everyone’s comfort. My mom smiled at Terry, the kind of warm, steady smile that instantly lowers the tension in a room. I’m sure everyone here is perfectly fine with you nursing your girls while you’re staying with us, she said. You can do it anytime, anywhere you feel comfortable. Every woman standing here has breastfed her own child. There’s nothing unusual about it. Remember you mom even breastfed you, so I am sure she is ok with it. Lena just laughed and said yea she was good at sucking my boobs when I was feeding her. She gestured lightly toward the rest of the group, as if to underline the point. If you’re comfortable feeding your girls with us around, then go right ahead, she added. You don’t have to hide or step away unless you want to. Then she glanced over at me with a small laugh. Even my son is used to seeing a mom feed her baby. Betsy’s mom nursed her until she was five, and he was around plenty of times while she was feeding her. Terry let out a relieved breath. Great, she said. Then I’ll just keep nursing while I’m here. "The cozy kitchen completely filled with warmth as Betsy’s mom suddenly burst into a huge, hearty round of laughter, shaking her head with absolute amusement, conversation taking another hilariously open turn. "The rest of us turned to look at her, thoroughly confused by the sudden outburst, while she just waved a hand in the air, still smiling broadly from her spot by the table. 'If Terry’s going to be feeding her girls, it’s an incredibly good thing Betsy likes her breast milk too—because there is honestly enough stored in that travel cooler to supply a small daycare for weeks!' Betsy's mom chuckled warmly. She turned her gaze directly toward Terry, her eyes full of total, relaxed cabin solidarity. 'Seriously, a huge thanks to Terry for pumping so much extra supply so that Betsy could happily have some of it while we're all visiting. I mean, I honestly just can't believe that my 20-year-old daughter is still drinking breast milk out of a baby bottle at her age! But she absolutely loves your breast milk, so who on earth am I to try and stop her? That broke the tension instantly. We all started laughing. Terry shook her head, amused but also wincing a little. Okay, jokes aside, we really do need to get the milk out of the cooler and put it away. My boobs are killing me—I need to pump. Lena stepped forward with a knowing grin. Go ahead. Go pump. We’ve all been there—when your boobs hurts and you can’t get to your pump fast enough. We’ll take care of the milk. Her tone wasn’t teasing; it was the kind of solidarity only moms who’ve lived through the same thing can offer. The other women nodded along, a little chorus of oh yes, we remember that. Terry let out a relieved laugh. Thank you. Seriously. Then she headed down the hall to take care of herself. As we started unloading the cooler, stacking neatly labeled bags into the freezer, my mom chuckled under her breath. It’s a good thing Betsy likes Terry’s breast milk, she said. Because with everything in this cooler—and Terry pumping more—she’s going to be stocked for a long while. That set everyone off again. We laughed our way through the rest of the work, the freezer slowly filling, the cooler finally empty, and the whole situation feeling a lot lighter than it had been an hour earlier. After we finished putting the last of the milk into the freezer, I headed downstairs to check on Terry. Her door was cracked open, and I could hear the soft hum of her pump winding down. When I stepped inside, she was just finishing up, wiping down the parts and setting everything neatly on a towel. The only problem with that, she was standing there in just shorts and no top. I turned around and told her that I was sorry. I should have knocked before I entered. She looked up at me with a tired but relieved smile. You’re here at the perfect time, she said. She held up two fresh bottles she’d just filled. Can you take these to the freezer for me? I nodded and took the bottles from her, careful not to spill a drop. They were warm and heavy in my hands, and I couldn’t help glancing down at them before looking back at her. Can I ask you something? I spoke. Terry looked up from the pump parts she was wiping down. Sure. Do you always pump this much every time? And… how many times a day do you have to do it? She didn’t seem bothered by the question. If anything, she looked relieved someone was finally asking instead of guessing. I pump three times a day, she said. And yeah—this is pretty much my normal amount. I let out a low whistle. Wow. She laughed softly. It’s a lot, I know. I’ll be back in a bit, I said, lifting the bottles slightly to show I had them. Thanks, she replied, stretching her shoulders as she stood. Once you drop those off, come back. We should go wake up the girls. There was something warm in the way she said it—like this had quietly become our routine, something we did together without needing to talk about it. I headed back toward the kitchen with the bottles, the house quiet and calm, settling into the soft rhythm of the morning. When I got back to the kitchen, Betsy’s mom was already starting lunch. She had two storage bags laid out on the counter and pulled them toward me. Go ahead and pour the milk into these, she said. Then just stick them in the fridge. She glanced at the bottles in my hands and shook her head with a little laugh. Terry really does make a lot of milk. I nodded. Yeah… she does. I started to pour, but she held up a hand. Wait—grab a baby bottle first. Fill that up. Betsy can have one with her lunch. I handed her the bottle once it was full, and she smiled to herself. It still amazes me that my daughter likes a bottle of breast milk at the age of twenty. I couldn’t help smiling back. She definitely likes it. With that, I poured the rest of the milk into the storage bag, sealed it, and tucked it into the fridge. The kitchen smelled like lunch starting up, warm and familiar. Once everything was put away, I headed back to Terry. When I got back to the room, Terry was finishing cleaning up her pump. The first thing that came out of my mouth was, Hey… sorry about walking in on you earlier without your top on. She looked up and gave me a small, easy smile. Don’t worry about it, she said. With how much pumping I’m going to be doing while we’re here, it’s probably going to happen again. She paused, then added something softer, more sincere. Honestly, I was just glad you didn’t stand there staring at my boobs. That… meant a lot. It made me feel like a person, not an object. Terry then let out a breathy laugh and shook her head, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Honestly, she said, with the way my boobs looks after nursing two girls for three and a half years… they’re not exactly winning any beauty contests. She said it lightly, but there was a hint of self‑consciousness underneath, the kind that comes from repeating a joke you’ve told yourself too many times. I held up both hands immediately. Alright, that’s enough sagging‑boob talk, I said, trying to sound mock‑stern but failing to hide the smile tugging at my mouth. I’ve already heard more than enough of that from my mom, Betsy’s mom, and your mom. That made her laugh—really laugh. The kind that starts in the chest and shakes the shoulders a little. She pressed a hand to her forehead like she couldn’t believe herself. Okay, okay, she said between laughs. No more sagging‑boob talk from me. The tension she’d been carrying earlier seemed to melt away. She wasn’t embarrassed anymore—just amused, and maybe a little grateful to have someone interrupt the spiral of self‑criticism before it got too deep. There was no awkwardness in her voice—just relief, and a kind of trust that hadn’t been there before. The room felt warmer because of it, like the two of us had crossed some invisible line into a more comfortable understanding. She finished drying her hands and stood up, giving me a small, grateful smile. Come on, she said gently. Let’s go wake up the girls. When we walked into my bedroom, Terry paused just inside the doorway. The girls were curled up together on the bed, they had kicked off the blanket that was covering them, their faces relaxed and peaceful. Terry’s expression softened instantly. She turned toward me with a smile that was half amusement, half pure affection. That is one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen, she whispered. I looked at the three of them and couldn’t help agreeing. Yeah… it really is. There was something about the moment, the quiet room, the soft morning light, the way Terry’s whole face warmed when she looked at her daughters—that made everything feel calm and right. It wasn’t just cute; it was one of those small, perfect snapshots of family life that you don’t realize you’ll remember until you’re standing right in the middle of it. Terry stepped closer to the bed, her smile deepening as she watched the girls breathe in sync. They always do this, she murmured. If one falls asleep first, the other finds her and curls up next to her. Every time. This time both of them were hugging Besty. Her voice had that soft, proud tone parents get when they’re talking about something only, they get to see. I nodded. It’s adorable. And honestly… kind of impressive. She laughed quietly at that, shaking her head. Yeah. They’re a handful when they’re awake, but moments like this make up for it. The room stayed still for a moment longer, both of us just watching the girls before deciding it was time to gently wake them.
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