[At Home With Sue]

First, I apologise for this post not being more story. Second, I am working on the corrected draft of my technical piece. When that's done, I intend to escape to my little bolthole by the beach, there to continue the travails of poor Joe. It's nice to be appreciated...

[At Home With Sue]

"Let's just call it a dead thread and put a toe-tag on it..."

[At Home With Sue]

I'm really sorry I don't keep an archive myself. I'll be back to the story soon. xxx

[Sam And Jess]

Heh. I think Sam lost control ages ago....

[At Home With Sue]

Aw, gary, I don't mean to be confrontational. You were a little grumpy-pants, and I merely corrected you, as would any nanny, school teacher or even your wife, if you're one of those little boys who attempts the role of husband. Of course you see it as 'confrontational', just as you probably consider wetting yourself to be 'accidental', when in fact it it's quite normal for you, from the adult point of view.

[At Home With Sue]

What a very silly sort of club that sounds, BB. I bet you don't wash up afterwards.

[At Home With Sue]

Oh ho, Bigboy. I bet you look just like your avatar, standing up to the big powerful lady. Well I have seen it all before, and I know it would take just one swat to your behind for you to scurry back to the safety of your teddy or whatever you leave within easy reach when you decide to be 'bwave'. I can't help smiling. Even if what comes next is a quivering lower lip, a hand to your little willy, then an accident on the run for someone to clean up, and finally the big, wet tears that you say boys don't cry.

[At Home With Sue]

I'm not angry today, BB85, or any day really. I know boys make mistakes - it's in their nature to rush into things. That's why, when it's boiled down, we're here to look after you. I really believe that. The little boy running to mummy, tears streaming, from some reverse in the sandpit is no different from the executive who arrives home after a setback in the boardroom. They're both upset, and they both need to be cared for.

[At Home With Sue]

Bigboy85, of course you're not a ghost, sweetie. And you are funny, because you're not really grown up, either, as you readily admit. You can play the part, though, like most boys, even if it doesn't convince the women in your life.

I'm sure you will be good, too, so I can assure you that there is more of 'At Home with Sue' on the way. I don't believe in spanking except as a last resort. Most little boys are genuinely sorry when they've been naughty and are keen to behave after a few stern words from a female. When women get cross with you, it's not really out of anger or derision, it's because we realise your situation. We know you can't help yourself and we want to look after you. That's what cuddles are all about, and diapers too, when you think about it. XXX

As for Teletubbies, I think you might like them, especially if you find Sesame Street a bit difficult to follow at times.

[At Home With Sue]

Of course you are, diapertime42. That's why I'm here. I find the phenomenon utterly intriguing. I have to admit that I'm drawn into it too - as the mother, or at least the authority figure, which you little boys seem to need so much.

[At Home With Sue]

Bigboy85 you are completely transparent. I'm not running a daycare centre here, but if I were I'd have you trussed up in a double diaper in the smallest onesie I could find. Then I'd snap up the crotch and put you in front of the Telly Tubbies for an hour,

[How I Became Magan'S Baby Boy]

I can't wait either, dbk. Just because we don't comment doesn't mean there aren't lots of readers enjoying this. Remember there are some shy little boys here who may not be brave enough to comment.

[At Home With Sue]

Garyg it's not very grown up to show your impatience like that. If you were mine I'd put you over my knee and spank your little bottom and stand you in a corner for half an hour. However, I suspect you can't stop your infantile personality from breaking through occasionally.

Well, you're in luck you grumpy little boy. I have some time to myself to add to the story that somebody will no doubt be reading to you. Don't worry, I've seen the effects of gradual regression on adults. In some cases, 'men' will present quite normally despite the condition being advanced. The masking of the condition is attributed to the male ego, feeling its maturity - one of its few positive assets - under threat, expending most of its energy and will in an absolute defence of its adult persona, especially in public.

It's tiring battling a determined sub-conscious all day, and sudden acts of quite severe regression can be expected to occur in private. Typical of thses acts are tantrums, tears over minor problems, or even over no apparent problem at all, excessive fear of unknown people, places and things, bedwetting, occasional daytime wetting and even sudden soiling can be expected in a good percentage of cases.

In some men, the symptoms are less severe but just as obvious. Inappropriate words - or more accurately inappropriately vocalised thoughts, are common. I know of a husband, now stable at a social age of three or four, whose condition was first evidenced while having coffee with his wife and her sister. The sister, a woman in her mid thirties, happened to be wearing a pair ot denim jeans. The slightly plump sister was in the habit of wearing light control briefs under the pantyhose she wore beneath the jeans. The result was a smooth, rounded, lower belly tightly encased in denim.

After introductions and a few pleasantries, the man asked the sister:

"Where's your wee wee?'

He was unaware of his confusion over gender and of the immaturity of his question. In his casebook, that first regressive act is classified at a social age of two years. As mentioned, it's not unusual for the initial event in the manifestation of the condition to indicate such a severe regression, nor is the severity of that first act a certain indicator of the depth of the regression at stabilisation.

Garyg, I'm really writing this for your wife or carer, who is no doubt aware of your internet activities, so I'm assuming either you will haved asked her to read this, or that she has checked on you and discovered what you are looking at on the computer. As I said at the outset, your childish impatience indicates that you are in a regressed state and would not be able to understand text this advanced anyway.

Therefore, I may as well take the opportunity of congratulating Gary's wife for 'sticking with him'or his carer for the compassionate work she is doing. These 'special children' are fighting, in the early days at least, a losing battle with the big bad monster who is taking away from them their much prized adult male 'capacities' and 'traits'. I place those words in parentheses deliberately because in my opinion , and in the opinion of numerous repected researchers in the field, a 'capacity' for war, for example, is hardly one worth retaining. Similarly, a 'trait' of not considering the consequences of one's actions - for example of agreeing to go drinking just because the time is available - is likewise not a trait worth having. No matter that a wife or even mother might later not only have to deal with a drunken, incoherent husband but in many cases will be washing the sheets the next morning. Nocturnal enuresis, or bedwetting, usually occurs concurrent with or soon after the first overt act of regression. In the case of the missing wee wee above, the wife immediately told her regressed husband to apologise to the shocked sister. Things could hardly have gone worse for the little boy.

First, he appeared stunned and confused. Which no doubt he was, both by his own utterance - if his brain had been able to process it despite the grip of the recessive neural condition - and by his wife's angry tone of voice. Those things would genuinely have frightened him. Tests have shown that even in the early stages, a man suffering the condition is from his point of view as fearful of the wrath of a female authority figure as he woould be to find himself about to be charged by a dangerous animial. Hence the common pants-wettings in such circumstances. The female authority figures may be any females present above the social age of the man, or if below that age, young girls who have been asked by older females to take charge. This latter happens more than you might think.

Anyway, back to the man confused about his wife's sister's genitalia. In his simplistic state, the newly regressing man is likely to attribute maleness, ie having a 'wee wee', to anyone wearing pants, for example, or with short hair. Women are like his mummy, whom he has seen naked, and don't have wee wees. Yet here was this man, obviously, wearing pants but also obviously without his wee wee.

Frightened by his wife's response to his, he thought, quite reasonable question, the poor little boy struggling inside his big, man's body found first that he couldn't say the word which his mother had just told him. Staring wide-eyed at the sister, he tried 'Adolidise', then 'badora' then 'bodoribise' before the tears began cascading down his cheeks. He clutched his own wee wee as it flooded his pants and he more or less fell out of his chair, hobbled on his wet knees to his seated wife, clutched her as best he could and sobbing his heart out, buried his head between her ample bosoms. His wife may have represented fearsome authority, but, in one of the ironies of the condition, she also represented safety, love and security.

You would know that, being a wife or carer, and as for you Mr Pottypants, Impatient Garyg, all those big words mean that the best thing you can do is to do what you're told. That means cleaning up after youself when you're asked, going to bed on time, wearing a diaper if you're told to, even during the daytime, and of course trying to be a well-behaved little boy around adults. This means waiting until you're spoken to and not just saying the first silly thing that jumps into your little infantile head.

So there, Garyg, consider yourself bawled out. I hope you weren't too frightened, like that other little man who went 'boo hoo' and wet his pants just because his mummy spoke sharply to him.

You should realise from this, Gary, that we adults are not here to scare little girls and boys, but to help especially little boys to be nice to others and to be as grownup as they can be.

If you need a change now, I'm sorry. You should tell your carer, in a pleasant voice not cross or complaining, that you have wet yourself and that you need a change. If you aren't in a diaper, I suggest you ask for one. You'll feel much happier, and won't risk wetting or soiling your clothes if there's a loud noise or a knock at the door or whatever.

So behave, ok? Good girls, and boys, get new chapters. Bad little children get to stand in the corner. Remember there is nothing wrong with being little. Everyone understands. There are no horrible monsters taking anything away from you, just lots of kind ladies and girls who will look after you and keep you safe. But only if you're nice, Gary. So, once you're all clean and dry if you did have to change, Gary, I think you should go to your wife or carer, tell her how much you love her and how much you need her, then give her a great big hug and big, sloppy kiss.

Now I've run out of time, but never mind, I'll get on with 'At Home with Sue' shortly.

[Sam And Jess]

My oh my. Please keep going - this is one of the best ABDL (or whatever it is!) stories I have read; certainly better than anythng I've written.

[At Home With Sue]

I remember you from elsewhere on the net, Jennie. I've been to Sydney recently, too. Wouldn't it be funny if we've met without realising it?

[At Home With Sue]

Age regression! Now there's a thought...

[At Home With Sue]

Thank you bb.

[At Home With Sue]

Diapertime 42, I hope you don't think the picture of an impatient little toddler sitting in a soaked diaper on the floor amid a swag of toys had anything at all to do with me sitting here, way into the night, thinking up and typing a little more about Sue and her weak and dependent little husband Joe. I just happened to be siezed by the muse, ha ha. I won't spell check or edit this just now. I need sleep! Goodnight, babies. Dry nights! (as if...)

[At Home With Sue]

Wow! That's some crystal ball you have there, dt42!

[Sam And Jess]

Thank you. It was a warm and comforting Christmas chapter. Whatever the inner feelings of Sam or Jess, the episode has further cemented their lifestyle - Sam's dependence on Jess and his diapers, and Jess's responsibility for his diapers. I'm waiting for Sam to start messing without realising he's doing it, and being unable to stop.

[At Home With Sue]

At Home With Sue

Chapter 7

‘But you’re grown up, aren’t you, Joe?’ said Sue.

Joe looked at his wife, then nodded.

‘You’re an adult, like Jan and me, aren’t you Joe? You’re a big man of 28. You feel like an adult, don’t you?’ Sue asked.

Joe nodded.

‘Y.. Yes,’ he said.

‘So, I don’t think you’re ready for diapers just yet, do you?’ Sue said.

‘No,’ Joe replied, looking at the floor.

‘But Joe, I want to show you something,’ said Sue, going to the basin and picking from the pile of clothes there his wet underpants.

Sue held up the underpants in front of Joe, spreading them out to display the dark patch and the faded yellow rings around the damp area.

‘Are these yours, Joe?’ she asked.

Joe swallowed.

‘Yes,’ he said.

‘I want you to feel them, Joe, here, on the wet part,’ said Sue.

Joe raised a shaking hand and touched the damp material.

‘What happened to them, Joe?’

‘I, um, I wet them a bit, Sue,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘When did you wet your pants, Joe?’ Sue persisted.

‘I don’t know,’ said Joe.

‘Joe, if I were your mother, and you were a big boy who wet his pants like this, what would I do?’ asked Sue.

Joe stared at the floor. Sue could see his lips quivering. Joe moved one hand to his crotch and held his genitals.

‘Joe, don’t do that, it’s very naughty. Now, what would your mummy do if you wet your undies like this?’ said Sue.

‘She’d spank me,’ Joe said, his face reddening.

‘I’m sure she would,’ said Sue. ‘Now Joe, I’m not going to spank you because I know it was an accident. You couldn’t help it, could you, sweetie?’

‘No,’ said Joe, still looking down.

‘No,’ said Sue. ‘So I think you need to wear something that will help when you have another accident. Do you think that’s a good idea?’

‘Yes,’ said Joe.

‘That’s what these are for,’ said Sue, holding up the thick training pants. ‘Jan gave me these, and she has some more pairs for you to take home. When you wet them, they will still be comfortable, and they’ll keep your outside pants dry. Then they can be washed ready to wear again. Does that sound like the sort of undies you need to wear, Joe?’ asked Sue.

‘Yes,’ said Joe, looking up at Sue and blinking back tears.

‘Oh, honeybunch,’ said Sue, pulling him towards her and giving him a hug as Joe’s towel dropped to the floor in a heap around his ankles.

‘You could even wear them if you went back to work, so you wouldn’t need to sneak out and buy any silly baby diapers that don’t even fit you properly. Ok?’ Sue asked, kissing Joe’s forehead.

Joe nodded.

‘Good boy,’ said Sue. ‘Now, there’s something we have to do before you wear these,’ said Sue.

Joe looked at her questioningly.

‘Because these are lined, for hygiene we just have to take off the little bit of hair you’ve got down there,’ Sue said. ‘Jan has some nice cream here so it won’t even tickle.’

Joe stood in surprised silence as Sue mixed some cream to a lather and applied it to his groin.

‘Sue…’ Joe began.

‘Ha!’ said Sue. ‘You look like Father Christmas down there. See?’

Joe looked down at the mass of white foam covering his crotch.

‘This won’t take long,’ said Sue, making the first sweep of the lady’s razor.

The strip of skin behind the razor was perfectly smooth and hairless. Joe’s body hair was very fine, like his blonde hair. He only shaved every second or third day, and his pubic hair was quite sparse anyway. Sue, with her naturally thick, dark hair, had often joked that she was so much hairier there than he was. The operation didn’t take long.

‘Now, into the shower with you and we’ll get you in your new undies,’ said Sue.

Joe showered, amazed to feel how smooth his skin was. He was a bit alarmed to see how small it made him look, though. He emerged from the shower hiding his little penis behind the fingers of one hand.

‘No modesty, Joe,’ said Sue, holding out the trainers. ‘In you hop!’

Sue smiled to see his little penis shorn of any vestige of manhood. She might have been looking at the genitalia of a ten-year-old. At only 5’5

[At Home With Sue]

Ooh, I've tried to edit out anything specifically Aussie! Well spotted, Honu!

[At Home With Sue]

Thank you, babybb. It's really nice to get messages like that. I'll keep going while I have some spare time. Merry Christmas. Sal

[At Home With Sue]

At Home With Sue

Chapter 6

Sue looked back at Joe.

'Joe, I want to help you. Those are...'

Joe suddenly flung his arms around Sue.

'I know Sue, I saw the packet you brought home, I know I need them, I know Jan's a doctor or something and I know she knows, and you found those baby things I bought for work and, and, I just want a week more,or just this weekend, please Sue, I know I need them, but I'm not a baby...'

'Joe, hold on a minute, just hold on,' said Sue, unclasping him and looking at him. 'What packet? What baby things for work? Jan knows what, and besides, she's not a doctor she's a special education teacher and is semi-retired. And of course you're not a baby. Now what are you talking about?'

'Those pants,' said Joe.

'What about them?'

'They're, they have, they've got padding and plastic in them...' Joe said, tears running down his cheeks and mucus hanging in a lengthening skein from his nose.

'Joe, they are not baby pants, they are specially made for people - children, adults, men and women, who have slight leakage problems sometimes, to give them more confidence and to relax them and make their lives easier and happier. They are not for babies. Now, what packet, what do you know you need and what 'baby things' did you buy for work?' Sue asked seriously.

'Just a minute, Jan, we'll be out soon,' Sue said to the opening door.

She waited a moment, then took a corner of Joe's towel and wiped his face.

'No more tears, Joe. Now, tell me, what are you talking about. What do you need, and what did you buy for work? And do you mean that green plastic packet I had in the kitchen a few weeks ago?'

Joe nodded. 'Mm, y..yes. I thought..'

'Well you thought wrong. Those were night diapers I bought for little Amy here. She is two. The local shop had run out and I was coming up to see Jan. Remember?' Sue said.

Joe nodded.

'Right, now, all that other stuff. What do you think you need?' Sue asked.

Joe croaked something Sue could not hear.

'What honey? I'm not cross. What do you think you need?' said Sue.

'D..diaper, diapers,' said Joe softly.

Sue looked at Joe for a long moment.

'Because you wet your pants. And you wet the bed,' Sue said steadily.

Joe nodded again.

'Do you think that means you need to wear diapers, Joe?' Sue asked.

'I don't know,' said Joe very quietly.

Next - Chapter 7

[At Home With Sue]

Always glad to oblige, bloom. Merry Christmas to you too!

At home with Sue

Chapter 4

It was a warm afternoon, and, once he was out of the air-conditioned car, Joe’s ice cream was melting almost as fast as he was licking it.

The two women were standing outside the front door, catching up on their news.

At a groan from Joe, they turned towards him. A big dollop of ice cream had fallen from the cone onto his t-shirt, in addition to the rivulets of coloured ice cream running down his fingers and on his face.

‘Oh, Joe,’ said Sue. ‘Why did you take your bib off?’

Joe guiltily wiped his face with his already dripping forearm and then pulled his t-shirt outwards, trying to stop what was left of the ice cream dollop from heading south. A moment later, the remainder of the ice cream above the cone fell onto the neatly raked gravel as Joe tipped the cone awkwardly while clutching at his t-shirt.

Joe stood helpless, too scared to move. How bad could this get?

‘Oh Joe, the look on your face!’ laughed Jan. ‘You look just like one of my kids! Never give a kid a double cone,’ she added, turning to Sue.

‘I’m not a kid!’ said Joe, as another dollop fell off the cone and landed on his shoe.

‘Joe, for heaven’s sake,’ said Sue, taking the still scrunched toweling from Joe’s free hand and starting to wipe his face.

‘Sue, please,’ Joe said, his words muffled by the towel Sue was using industriously.

‘Bring him inside,’ called Jan, ‘And I’d better take that t-shirt.’

‘Come on honey,’ Sue said, taking Joe by the arm, as Joe attempted one last slurp at the liquefying ice cream.

The only result of that was for a sloppy scoop of banana ice cream to join the rest of the mess on his shirt. He could feel the sticky, cold stuff trickling down past his belly button into his pants.

‘I don’t know how one person could make so much mess in such a short time,’ said Sue, taking from Joe the remains of the ice cream and its now soggy cone and wrapping it in the paper bib.

‘In the kids’ bathroom, Sue,’ called Jan.

‘Coming,’ said Sue, guiding Joe into the house and along a hallway littered with toys.

‘Mind the toys,’ said Jan from the bathroom. ‘I’d rather have them out in the pool in this heat than in here tidying up. Sorry!’

‘It’s no worse than Joe’s stuff,’ Sue replied.

Joe glanced at his wife, mouthing the word 'Sue!'.

‘He does model planes and trains,’ explained Sue.

‘In here,’ said Jan, holding the bathroom door open and taking the mess of paper towels from Sue.

Joe couldn’t think of anything to say other than ‘sorry’ as Sue guided his arms up, stripped his t-shirt off him and gave it to Jan.

‘And look at your pants,’ said Sue, unbuttoning the waistband of Joe’s corduroys.

‘Sue!’ said Joe, trying to turn away from Jan.

Sue gave Joe a playful swat on his backside.

‘I’m sure Jan’s seen plenty of little boys in their underoos,’ Sue assured him, yanking down his trousers.

Now Joe did turn away from the women in the brightly-lit bathroom. He knew what his underpants must look like. He hoped for a moment that the melted ice cream had covered any wet patch left after his emergency in the township, but realized by the short silence in the room that it was not the case. What a great way to start the afternoon, he thought miserably.

Sue and Jan stared at the big half moon of wet cotton on Joe’s bottom.

‘I’ll see what I can find for him to wear,’ said Jan quietly, turning to the door.

‘Did he wet his pants?’ came a question from the doorway. Annie, Jan’s five year old, had come into the house to investigate the new voices.

‘It’s just an accident,’ said Jan, ushering the child into the hallway.

Joe wished he was on the moon, or anywhere. He appreciated Sue’s hug from behind, and turned to kiss her, but Sue was already turning him in the other direction to face her.

‘It’s ok, sweetie,’ she said softly, looking down at the front of Joes underpants, where the little lump of his genitals pushed dark against the wet cotton. ‘It was a long drive, and Jan understands.’

‘Understands what?’ Joe said, his voice breaking. He hated feeling so emotional, and he was trying hard not to cry again.

‘Let’s get these off,’ Sue said. ‘And your shoes.’

Sue sat Joe on the edge of the bath, took off his shoes and pulled his pants and underpants over his feet, then removed his socks.

Joe stood quietly on the bathmat as Sue put his wet and sticky clothing in a heap in the handbasin.

Jan returned, and walked into the bathroom. Joe flushed bright red and covered his crotch with his hands.

‘It’s ok,’ Jan said with a laugh. ‘We’re a full disclosure family here. She felt the kids’ still damp towels on the towel rail. I’ll get you a dry towel, honey, then we’ll find something for you to wear. Sue,’ she said, motioning into the hallway with her eyes.

Then Joe was alone in the bathroom. He looked around at the plastic ducks, bubble bath and the slip proof dinosaur footprints in the bath and the shower.

A spurt of pee escaped involuntarily from his penis, and he realized that he needed to pee. Tired and upset, he slumped down onto the toilet and peed, looking glumly at the potty and diaper pail next to the toilet.

Jan took Sue along the hallway a little. Joe could hear them talking but not what they were saying. He could just imagine.

‘Sue, I’ve got a top for him, one of my plain ones. And some pants that will look ok for the afternoon, though they might be a bit big. I’m a 42 these days,’ she said with a sad smile, ’And I might be a bit taller than he is, too. Same with my panties. He won’t want to wear stretchy briefs, but I have got a box of pants I keep for some of the special ed children when they come here for farm stay. Some of the older boys are about Joe’s build, but they’re training pants, you know, padded – would he wear those? I don’t want to embarrass him. It’s a pity he’s not a bit smaller. Nick’s a big six, and wears 'grownup' undies, but they'd still be a bit small for Joe.’

‘The special ed pants will be fine, Jan,’ said Jill. ‘As a matter of fact, I’d like to get him into something like that anyway, with the problems he has staining his men’s briefs. I’ll handle the explanation.’

Sue was glad of the notice, and began formulating what she’d say to Joe.

‘Great,’ said Jan. I’ll see what I can do about pants and a top. Although, if he’s happy to go out with the others around the pool, he won’t need a top, and I’m sure I can find him some shorts for a swimsuit. I’ll get that towel too.’

‘Sounds good,’ said Sue. ‘I’ll just ask him.’

Sue found Joe still sitting on the toilet.

‘Honey, Jan’s just rustling up some clothes for you. We’ll be talking about girls’ stuff for a while. Would you like to go out to the pool?’ she asked Joe, hoping to cheer him up as well.

‘Is there a towel?’ Joe asked.

‘Of course,’ Sue remembered. ‘Jan’s bringing one. Why don’t you hop into the shower and wash off all that ick, and then we’l get you into something decent. You’ll only need a swimsuit or shorts for the pool.’

Joe got up from the toilet, then flushed it. He stepped into the shower and was soon soaping himself while Sue sat on the side of the bath.

Jan arrived with some clothing.

‘Here are the trainers,’ she said, handing the thick full briefs to Sue, meeting her eyes for a moment. ‘How is he?’ she asked quietly, under the noise of the shower.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Sue, looking at the other brightly coloured items.

‘These are the only shorts I’ve got that will fit him. They’re those bubble shorts, but they’re the only ones I’ve got with an elastic waist. There's no lining though, so...' Jan hesitated for a moment, then continued in a rush. 'Trousers,’ she said with a laugh, holding up a pair of pink stretch pants. ‘Pink, but who’s to see? Rear zip. And a top. Sorry about the teddy. Roger’s joke about seeing me in a teddy. Worn once.’

Jan held up a pale yellow T with a huge appliqued teddy bear face on the front.

‘It’s this or lace around the neck and arms,’ she said.

‘He’ll take it,’ said Sue.

‘Don’t wash yourself away, mister,’ said Jan to Joe, then left the bathroom.

Next – Chapter 5

At Home With Sue

Chapter 5 - a texty chapter, full of Freudian speculation and allusions.

Sue wasn't sure what Jan was about to say when she paused while she was showing her the clothes. Unlined shorts would be fine if they were used as a swimsuit, Sue thought, unless Jan was referring to Joe 'making an exhibition of himself'. Not that there was much chance of that, thought Sue. Jan was her best friend, but she hadn't discussed with her every little thing about her marriage to Joe. Sue smiled ironically to herself. Joe's 'little thing' was sadly not much more than that, a little bump in the front of his underpants. Especially since his redundancy, his attempts at lovemaking had become not so much a chore for Sue, but, well, pathetic at worst and uncomfortable at best.

On the few occasions he tried it, Sue would feel Joe fondling himself as they lay in bed, trying to gather steam no doubt, before turning and clambering onto her and trying to insert his soft little penis into her. Sue tried to help at first, quietly using her fingers to moisten herself when she thought Joe might be readying himself for another attempt, then trying to push his half-erection into herself. Joe would persevere, even sweating sometimes, before either giving up and, Sue knew, quietly crying himself to sleep, or he would fall asleep lying across her, leaving her to extract herself, sore and red, from under him. Ironically, when they were courting, and first married, it was the opposite. How he could go from coming in his underpants beforehand, which had happened more than once, to being almost impotent, she could not understand. But even at his best, he was no stud. Size wasn't everything, she knew, but it was certainly something.

The last few times he had tried sex with her, he had got quite drunk first, and must have talked himself into believing he was, well, whoever that famous porn star is, when really, he was worse than ever. 'Like a raw chippolata', she'd read in some women's magazine. Things improved slightly when Sue had climbed on top. To put it crudely, Joe had stiffened up straight away, and even come, but then for days afterwards he'd be 'Mr Macho', cracking odd, 'he-man' sort of jokes as if to talk himself out of the fact that he could only manage sex with his wife on top. Sue didn't understand it. She didn't really try to now. She was happy to do what they'd done the last few times - she'd gently roll him off her and guide his head to her groin - something that she had been taught nice girls just didn't do. Joe had become very good at kissing and licking down there, and he didn't spend the next week pretending to be a man, or at least a virile one.

The change to her being on top had had an effect on Sue too, another aspect of the complex subject of sex she didn't understand at all. Sue had felt herself become, in an odd way, more focused on her crotch as far as sex went. The whole business had gone from being a sort of all-of-body thing to being distinctly focused just there. She felt proud of her feminine parts - even calling it, to herself, her 'cunt', a word she would never use out loud. She'd gone as far as buying jeans and pants that were a size too small just to show herself off, although pretending to be completely unaware of how she looked down there.

Sue was not on the lookout for a replacement for Joe in any way, of course. If she were, she could have had Jan's ex, Roger. At least, she was fairly sure she could have. At a party before he and Jan had split up, at another friend's house with a pool, Roger had put his hand between Sue's legs and literally lifted her up by her crotch and thrown her backwards into the pool. Then, he'd had a dance with her and spun her into the garden, putting his big hand down there again and saying he hoped she wasn't bruised. Back on the dance floor he had held her really close and she could feel his giant thing pressing into her stomach. Gross, but it worked. When she went to the bathroom after the dance she'd had to use a wad of toilet paper to wipe herself dry - not of urine but of you-know-what! Then Jan had told her that his endless affairs were the reason she'd turfed him out, despite her kids being young. 'Better no dad at all than that magnetic dick on two legs', she'd told a somewhat shocked Sue.

Sue sat on the bath, imagining a kind of thick, eight inch, flesh-coloured compass needle, wavering around and then pointing straight at her vagina. A slight tingle began somewhere below her navel and radiated to her clitoris, down her thighs and up her spine.

Sue snapped back to reality as Joe, dripping wet, kissed her on the forehead.

'I thought you were in a trance,' he said. 'Where are my clothes?'

Sue blinked, stood up and kissed Joe on the lips. She looked at him for a moment, then gave him the dry, fluffy towel Jan had left. She watched Joe's little penis waggling above his neat, hairless little balls as he vigorously dried himself. She could put everything he had into her mouth and still almost close her lips. She'd tried it - another thing that would have shocked her mother. Then she remembered seeing Jan, on one of their joint skiing trips just after they'd both married, coming into the kitchen from the bedroom one evening, making a big 'O' with her mouth and pressing her cheeks with her thumb and forefinger, indicating, in her sometimes lewd way, how sore her mouth was. She'd had a drink of water and returned to the bedroom, her loud squeal indicating that the fun hadn't finished yet. Meanwhile, a lift operator had called Sue and Joe 'ladies', based no doubt on the only gender-specific part of their gear-clad bodies he could see, their smooth crotches encased in stretchy ski pants. There was no mistaking Roger's gender in ski pants or anything else.

Still, thought Sue, she knew that Joe loved her more than most men loved their women.

'Sue!'

It was Joe, calling Sue back to the real world. He was holding up the adult-sized training pants.

'Sue, what are these?' he asked, with a frightened look in his eyes.

Next - Chapter 6.