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A Story for Lisa. Story starts out slow, but I am an aspiring writer, so I will make it good!* I would appreciate feedback: [email protected]
Jessica sat at her computer in her room pretending to be doing her homework and not typing an email. She kept glancing at her digital alarm clock impatiently waiting for 10 pm to arrive. As she waited she glanced around her room, with the lights off and the light blue glow of the monitor casting about her bed and dresser she couldn't help but feel the calmness and comfort despite her heart racing madly in her chest. Her clock read 9:57. What a slow 15 minutes it was! She got up and stretched before putting her things back in her bookbag and clicking SEND at the bottom of the message that was from "Huggies&Kisses" to "Molic-Man" Just as she could not take the suspense any longer her mother slowly opened her bedroom door poking her head in.
"Don't you think you should be in bed by now kittie? It is only monday night and you have to be up early for school tomorrow."
"I just need to finish the last part of my essay, then I am going to bed." Jessica replied back as her mother was already walking toward her own bedroom. Her mother knew she hated that pet name. She was 18 and a senior in high school yet her mother still called her that! She waited until she heard her parent's door down the hall close.
"Finnaly!" she thought to herself as she walked over to the computer and slipped off her pajama pants. She walked over to her mirror and saw her features in the soft glow. She stood there for a moment studying her petite frame and and firm breasts covered by her favorite lacy bra with the matching panties, forgotten on the floor next to her bed.
"No need for those she said in a soft naughty tone to herself as she slowly moved her hands over her soft heavilly padded rear end listening to the crackling sound that her attends disposable made. Her parents did not know about her fetish, but then again they did not have to. She sat down on her bed feeling the bulk of the soft padding and felt a shudder up her body as her heart skipped a beat. As she was crawling into bed the ambient glow of her monitor was interrupted as a pop up box announced a message that she had just recieved. She excitedly raced over to the computer hoping to see a message from her "mystery" friend, but was disappointed to see that it was only Mark, her boyfriend. She opened the message with little enthusiasm to read: "Hey Jessica, looks like I will have to cancel our plans for this weekend, my buddies are going up to Canada and asked me to go with them.
Thank you for understanding" Mark She nearly hit the monitor upon reading it.
"How could he!" she said quietly through clenched teeth. They had not been able to spend a weekend together since they started dating in September at the beginning of the school year. His friends always came first and she was always second if their plans fell through. They had not slept together yet, Mark felt three and a half months was long enough, but she had not even told him of her fetish yet.
She just did not trust him that far.
She trudged over to her bed and pulled the covers over her. All was forgotten as she ran her hands first over the front of her diaper teasing her- self for as long as she could bear before sliding them down in. She was sure a moan had escaped her lips as she first slowly rubbed at her most sensitive area thinking about the stories she had read over the internet and began to rub faster as her every nerve ending began to rejoice at the feeling.
Then the inevitable moment came, not just the climax as she arched her back and clenched her teeth feeling her nipples grow hard but that one moment that she pretended that it was not her hand, that there was someone else with her, on top of her.
There was no face on this man she had imagined many times, try as she might she could not picture it, it seemed like something far away and unobtainable. She smiled as her head slid back in the pillow and she rolled over to her side breathing heavily waiting for her heart to slow down and her breathing to soften. The feeling had not left her until she fell asleep.
His monitor was turned off. He had not had a chance to even check his email from working late at Sparticus(The towns most popular pizzeria and restaurant). Upon arriving home he climbed up the stairs as quietly as he could to hop into the shower to clean the pizza grease and garlic smell off of him before going to bed. It was getting a bit late to take a shower, but he could use something to cheer himself up after the lousy day he had cutting pizzas and frying buffalo wings. He had told his boss all to many times that he should not be working this late on weeknights, but of course his boss never listened and he never put up much of a fuss. He was greeted by his mother as she stood in the hallway looking at him in just a towel.
"I thought you were not working this late on school nights anymore?" she said with an aggravated tone while giving him that all to familiar scorn that only the parents of teenagers are able to put on.
"Well we apparently thought wrong" he replied back in an un argumentative tone that was more like a sigh.
"Besides he says he needs me there, what can I do?"
"Tell him has to look for someone other than a highschooler to do his closing shifts! God it's past eleven and you need to wake up early if you are going to catch the bus." She replied back as soon as he had finished his last sentence.
"You know we have to work early on Tuesdays so we cannot give you a ride."
"I know" he said as he was already on his way to his room to get dressed for bed. Which was a funny way of putting it considering what he wore. He stepped in and closed the door and popped the lock in place for privacy. He looked over at his computer and contemplated turning it on as he opened his closet door to retrieve the blue Rubbermaid container that was hidden under a pile of clothes and placed it on the bed.
His room looked more like a badly disorganized storage closet for a museum. On every wall there were display cases containing artifacts from several long gone civilizations along with muskets from the civil war. He had been a collector of such things since he was in seventh grade, and a history fanatic since he was in first. He pulled the cover off the container to reveal a half empty package of Molicares. He felt that shudder he always did when he looked at them. Quickly drying himself off he picked up one of the folded diapers and slowly taped it around his waist.
"A lousy job at taping" he thought.
"*Sigh* if perhaps there was another here to HELP that would make it easier, and a bit more fun..." he thought slyly out loud. Before climbing into bed he walked over to his computer and turned it on. The same glow slowly filled his room casting reflections off of the display cases on his wall. He opened the inbox to his email account and his heart nearly skipped a beat when he saw that he had a new message: "Nothing new today "Molic-man"(his screen name). Just finishing up a few loose ends before the Christmas break. Who would have thought senior year would be so damn hard! Oh well, guess I did not fill out my course selections right *Giggle.* Much love, Huggies&Kisses.
Not a very elaborate message, but seeing it seemed to cheer him up despite the fact that our friend here was well aware that if he was lucky he would see three hours of sleep at best.
"Jason! Turn off the computer and get to bed!" his mother yelled seeing the glow of the screen flowing out the cracks around his door. With that he turned off the computer and laid down under the sheets and began to follow the same ritual. In the end it was briefly satisfying, for he had always imagined that someone was there with him as well. Sometimes he could almost imagine the hands gripping his back, her (Whoever she is, also without a face) breath against his neck, and of course, wearing a thick disposable just like he was. A bittersweet moment, a wonderful fantasy, but an empty one as well. This girl, whoever she was will always be without a face, he would never hear her voice. She did not exist.
He rolled over on his stomach with the covers concealing him from the neck down. Picturing for just a second his (And our) mystery woman.
"Like that will ever happen" he said softly as he was drifting off to sleep.
One thing to realize about our friend here is that he always has the last word and hates nothing more than being proved wrong. However it would seem that at least once in his life he will be proven wrong.
and for once, he will not mind.
To be continued...
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