Horndog

Interesting. Never thought I had any diaper rituals until this thread was brought up. As embarassing as this sounds, I sometimes scratch my crotch just so I can feel the diaper thickness between my legs. I always do this in contemplation -- equivalent to rubbing one's chin while in deep thought.

This just occurred to me. Rednecks are communist... because their necks are red, of course! Wow, this thread just took a trip to Crazyville.

Mine is, "You padded?"

I'm still looking for that "right" diaper for exercise and gym wear. Haven't found it yet.

Clouds are made of cotton candy. Case DISMISSED.

It has multiple parts. I'll upload future furry stories in this section, though.

For some reason, I laughed at that.

You missed the point. It's the principle.

You never claimed it, but you act like it. I'm aware of his statements condemning Ted Kennedy after he passed, but that doesn't justify a posthumous "good riddance." Did I like the guy? Not really. I'm just thinking of his family and kids.

I'm an atheist, but I don't shove it down people's throats.

"Why should I respect him for being dead now when he had no respect for the dead?" An eye for an eye. If you really believe that, then tell me: are you really that different than Breitbart? Never said your message was valid or invalid. I opined that the message is inappropriate. There's something very ghoulish about this thread.

Two things: 1. Obama has set through Presidential Policy Directive 14 a broad set of waivers, which allow domestic law enforcement agencies to easily abrogate the military custody requirements found in Section 1022 (the most controversial section of NDAA). 2. Obama is not entirely to blame here for ACTA. ACTA is the brainchild of diplomatic negotiations between the US and several foreign nations. It's a lot more complicated than legislation like SOPA, which was toppled because of an overwhelming outcry by citizens in our country. When you're dealing with foreign treaties, it's not as easy for a major benefactor of this treaty to suddenly pull out of its enforcement. Here's a great article about ACTA if anyone has 30 minutes to kill.

I was reading statements made by people expressing their condolences for Breitbart, his wife, and his 4 kids. Many of the statements indicate that there was some severe disagreement over his positions, but he was good at what he did -- and that's what matters. I agree. I look at his politics. I disagreed with it, but just because I disagree with it doesn't mean I never thought of him as less than a human being. The "good riddance" line is just an emotional knee-jerk reaction to his opinions, but the overarching consideration should be life. Life is precious and life is worth living. His life meant something to many who would never dream of dismissing his death as "good riddance." We should respect those who are now grieving over a life that was taken away from them far too soon. Sorry, but I think the OP was wholly inappropriate here.

No, that's not all. http://www.whathasobamadone.org/ Criticize Obama for his policies. Go ahead, but there's no need to make things up about him. No good comes from arguing over a fictional candidate. Oh, and here's an ignore.

Heh. You mentioned public restrooms. I've rarely used public restrooms. I would turn my bladder into a steel trap when I went out of the house. I was disgusted by the public restrooms, yet I wore diapers and used them. While it sounds like a "gross" oxymoron, the fact of the matter was that I was comfortable with my own waste. It's what I was used to.

I've developed a few techniques over the years for "stealth": Wear loose-fitting, dark pants. Diapers often have this "bulge" look. Wearing dark (i.e. black) pants that are loose fitting will obscure the "bulge" appearance Wear close-fitting, woven pants. This will keep diapers from sagging. If you do not care about the diaper's bulge, wearing close-fitting pants is your best bet Bodystockings and onesies. Bodystockings and onesies are basically t-shirts that snap by the crotch, and hold the diaper firmly in place. Dark-colored bodystockings and onesies are preferred. Also, look for bodystockings and onesies with quick drying/sport material

I'm looking forward to trying these. I need something like Real Fit for walking and active use.

http://whattheheckhasobamadonesofar.com/ Have fun.

Yep! I had some fun the other day, and got in on the "taboo" action. I walked a few miles down to the pier to meet up with some friends. I decided on-the-fly to pad up and walk. I didn't choose the best diaper to walk with (Abena Abri-Form M4), but I did. Took a while to stop waddling. Anyway, I went to a restaurant, ordered some food and sat with them. The urge to wet appeared, so I went along with it. It was nice. I didn't feel like I was imposing or causing an inconvenience for anyone. Being a DL is what I call an "invisible" fetish because nobody knows or has to know that you're wearing. It's something you experience on your own. Of course, there's always humiliation, but that's another ball of twine.

Frank Wallace Camus was born on August 4, 2009. Mark held his newborn son in the hospital room where Susan was recovering. He could barely contain himself. On the outside, Mark calmly cradled his boy in his arms. On the inside, he was doing somersaults and backflips. He couldn't believe it: a little version of him just came out of his wife. He joked with Susan and told her that Frank was "the most realistic baby doll" that he's ever seen. "And he doesn't require batteries!" While sitting up in bed, Susan shot back at Mark, "Now I have two boys who aren't potty-trained." Mark stuck out his tongue and rubbed the baby's forehead gently. He gave Frank back to Susan. The first thing Mark wanted to do, as soon as he handed over Frank, was to drive home and get his son situated in the house. But mommy and baby needed to stay at the hospital overnight before they were discharged. Not a problem, thought Mark. He spent the time daydreaming about taking his son around the ranch in diapers. He would wear a cowboy hat, and get a smaller one that matched and fit on top of Frank's head. He wanted to teach Frank how to fish, how to swim, and how to be an outdoorsman like his pappa. He wanted to teach Frank all these things, though he was only a few hours old. By nine in the evening, Mark drove back to the house and made sure the place was ready for the new arrival. The spare bedroom they had was turned into a bright blue-themed nursery that had all the bells and whistles: a large, white crib surrounded by a toy chest, a small drawer of baby supplies, and a closet stuffed with clothes. He looked in the nursery to see that everything was in good shape. He opened up the door to his hall closet, which was immediately next to the nursery, and looked inside. There were two separate drawers: one that included Mark's diaper stash and the other that contained his son's stash. The inside of the hall closet looked like he ransacked a Babies 'R Us delivery truck. It was a surreal sight. Nonetheless, all of it made sense. He vowed to not make his own diaper-wearing a constant habit. There was going to be some checks and balances in the house, and to keep his nose clean, he had to abide by them. A day later, Frank was brought home. The healthy baby boy laid in his crib for the first time, and looked around with one eye open. Mark wanted to buy his son a tiny eye patch and call him a pirate. Susan looked over the crib and smiled. "He's really something, isn't he?" she said to Mark. "He's so cute 'cause he doesn't look like you at all." Mark rolled his eyes. "Oh for the love of... shut up!" he playfully moaned. His mind was racing. He was on an adrenaline rush of fatherhood. And yet, there were things left unresolved. Robbie called to congratulate Mark. The call served as a reminder of a relationship that needed to be thoroughly identified. He loved his wife very much, and was extremely supportive of her during the pregnancy. But Mark felt that Robbie was there as someone that helped buffer the stress. But since the baby arrived, Mark knew that he had to dedicate himself to Frank as a full-time job. But Mark wouldn't rule out having a break once in a while. While the baby was crying, Mark fell back on his bed and spread his arms wide. He was developing a headache, and wasn't able to think clearly. Earlier, Susan complained that she was experiencing a headache, and told Mark, "We got a long road ahead, don't we?" The new father honeymoon was over. Reality was beginning to sink in. It was approaching ten in the evening, and it felt like it was two in the morning. Both Mark and Susan were exhausted. It appeared that the whole diaper drama was behind them -- for the most part, at least. Obviously, the diaper-wearing wasn't as frequent of an occurrence before Frank was born. There wasn't much to talk about between the couple except for issues like, "Who's gonna change the baby?" and "When does he stop crying?" By one in the morning, Mark and Susan were able to drift into sleep when suddenly, Frank started crying. Susan tried pushing Mark's body out of bed, telling him, "It's your turn. No compromises." He rolled out of bed and slowly walked to Frank's bedroom. In his boxers, Mark stood in front of the crib and saw Frank opening and closing his tiny hands. The baby boy was crying and sniffling. Mark picked up the baby and noticed that he needed a change. Mark put the baby down, and went to his hall closet where he now had a wide selection of diapers to choose from. He stood in the hallway and rubbed his chin. "Okay, maybe just for tonight," he thought. Mark brought into Frank's room two diapers: one for the baby and one for him. He changed Frank, and was getting faster at it. It was like second-nature. He mused that it was easier to change someone else than it was to change himself. When he finished changing Frank, Mark started diapering himself. He whispered to Frank, "Hey buddy, if I get too old and have a retirement home nurse change my diapers, pull the plug!" He chuckled softly. "Except, of course, if the nurse is hot. Then you can hold off on that." He got down on the floor of Frank's room and diapered up. It felt natural for him to do that. He could smell the baby powder. He could see that he was in a baby's room. There were some toys in a nearby chest. Everything in the room was simple in appearance. It all reminded him of a time when he was young. When Mark was a toddler, he felt protected when he was confined to a festive baby room with bright pastel-color walls. There were the glow-in-the-dark stars, toy airplanes that dangled from the ceiling by a thin shoestring. The rest of the world was outside the door, but inside the room, he was king. At 45, Mark could appreciate the feeling surging through his body. There was a warmth generated from reminiscing about the past. As he sat on the floor, Mark looked around from a toddler's perspective and felt a sense of relief. "Gosh, I wish I had a room like this. You're a lucky kid, Frank." Then he remembered the rule that Susan gave him: no going to bed in diapers. He was about to walk back to his bedroom until he remembered her rule. He decided to close Frank's door, take a spare blanket tucked inside the room closet, and sleep on the floor for the rest of the night. So he did -- and he didn't mind one bit. Morning came quickly. The sun shined through the window in Frank's room. The baby was awake and alert, but quiet and looking inquisitive in his crib. There, on the floor, was Mark sleeping comfortably beside Frank's crib. Susan opened up the door and stood in the doorway with a bathrobe on. She smiled and snickered when she spotted her husband in a diaper. "Okay, so I have two babies. Not one. Fine by me," she thought before closing the door and letting them snooze for a while. She couldn't resist her feelings about Mark any further: she thought he looked cute in diapers. She thought it was strange for her spouse to wear them, but it was no different than living with someone who required diapers for medical reasons. Combined that with the fact that they had a baby to take care of, Susan felt at ease. She accepted that her family was strange, but something about that strangeness was refreshingly unique. There was a certain innocence that came from being infant-like. Yet the infantile behavior wasn't as intrusive as a lifestyle choice. She was concerned that Mark would get lost in the diaper fascination, and wind up destroying the marriage over it. Susan saw that Mark was willing to compromise. The concern was starting to melt away. To Mark, there was nobody as kind as Susan. He didn't know any woman who would put up with their man if he wound up wearing diapers. No way. It was inconceivable. He attributed Susan's acceptance to the patience of a saint. He gave her a few opportunities to walk away from him for good, but she stayed. It was a testament to the strength of their bond. He wasn't going to mess with success. However, Robbie remained in his orbit of thought. He was no longer thinking of having a sexual relationship with him. He thought of Robbie as someone who allowed him to be more "involved" with diapers. There were no rules, no conditions, and nobody was around to tell him "no." Robbie noticed that Mark made fewer shopping trips to Walmart. Standing behind the checkout counter, Robbie looked around, hoping that Mark would walk in and say, "Hello!" He rarely showed up -- and when he did, Mark would arrive when Robbie wasn't on his shift. When days were slow, Robbie thought about the night they had. His mind went back to when a drunken Mark rubbed his shoulders in bed and tried coercing him into sex. Robbie felt he did a good thing by resisting Mark's advances, but the resistance sharpened his sexual appetite. He had a few regrets about that night. He thought of an alternative scenario, which had Robbie consenting to absolutely evening. What a night that could have been! He could have lied to Mark the next morning, and deny that anything happened. With the fantasy actively playing in his mind, Robbie clocked out for lunch and spent 30 minutes masturbating furiously in the men's room. He locked himself in a stall; he jerked himself with the diaper on. He could feel his heart beating like it was trying to leap out of his chest. Thump-thump-thump. Sweat was dripping from his forehead. He imagined Mark on top of him in bed, ravaging him with blind, sexual rage. The fantasy was so vivid, he could feel the jolt of intense pleasure spreading through his body. His cheeks turned red. He was getting hot. The temperature in the restroom felt a lot warmer than it actually was. What got him hot was the image of being dominated by a big, dirty-diaper pig. Then, a few sudden throbs, and he ejaculated into his diaper. He created a sweet, sticky glaze that made him feel "naughty." "Much better," Robbie muttered to himself as he left the restroom. He was back in his work clothes. His face was beet red as if he just finished first place in a marathon race. The sexual encitement faded after a while, but his drive soon transitioned into a calm desire to be with Mark. He tried to reason with himself, thinking that it was Mark who wanted to engage in intimacy, not him. As far as he knew, Mark was the one who initially reached out to him and bought him a bag of diapers. It was obvious. Mark wanted to start something with him. Why should he care about Mark's relationship with Susan? Robbie talked himself into inflated confidence. He was going to have his day with Mark -- and he swore by it. Mark was having the time of his life; for there was a routine that developed between Mark and Susan. In the morning, Mark had fun with Frank in the mornings and he would take up for rides and walks around the scenic ranch. This bought some time for Susan to clean the house, run her errands, and prepare lunch in the kitchen with peace. When Mark returned to the house, Susan would prepare the family lunch. Everyone would eat merrily and go about their afternoon business. After lunch, Susan assumed the role of "mommy" and made sure to change both Frank and her husband. To Mark's surprise, it was Susan who presented the idea. She attributed the decision to simply being in a "motherly mood." Sometimes, this would help spark Mark's desire to make the evening a little more "worthwhile" for Susan. When Mark wasn't in diapers, he'd help Susan with the laundry. He helped wash the clothes. She'd help dry them, and put them away. She joked about how she didn't have to worry about washing out the "skidmarks" on her husband's underwear. That sort of joking was more a kick in the gut than humorous, but he bit his lip and took the punches. For all the weirdness Mark put her through, Susan was more than entitled to dole out a beating or two about it. He wasn't as self-conscious as he used to be, but some words continued to embarrass him. Then again, he liked the humiliation -- and she knew it too. It became a sadistic game between the two. Sometimes, the playful teasing would wind up in public outings. One of Susan's favorite lines to Mark was, "Make that silly face for me. You know, the face you make when you wet yourself." Then there were times when she wished he wore diapers. Since Mark started wearing diapers for recreational use, his bladder muscles weakened. He wet his diapers almost naturally and he rarely thought twice about it. However, there were times when he wasn't wearing diapers and had an "accident." One day, Mark and Susan drove to a family reunion picnic at a park located a few hours away from home. Susan introduced Frank to her relatives, and they were immediately awe-struck. The family complimented the baby's deep blue eyes, his glowing complexion, and his infectious smile. Mark was caught in the moment, telling his in-laws that he couldn't be happier. For the first time in years, he felt light on his feet and a joyful bounce in his step. But his bladder was having none of it. While he was talking to relatives about life and his construction business, Mark started feeling some familiar warmth by his crotch. The moment he realized what was happening, Susan spotted the problem. A wet spot was growing and expanding down his left pant leg. Susan gulped nervously, squeaked, "Excuse me!" before grabbing her husband's hand and leading him to a nearby park restroom. "Aw shit! I didn't know that I was --" He was petrified. "What is wrong with you, Mark? Wait, I already know the answer." Even though she was embarrassed, Susan was able to crack jokes at her partially incontinent husband's expense. "I didn't expect to wet." Susan stopped in front of the park restrooms. "Alright. Do your business, and go wait in the car. I'll go get Frank. We probably should get going anyway." She hurriedly turned away from Mark and walked back to the picnic. Mark bit his upper-lip. He looked down at his jeans. Fortunately, he was wearing dark blue jeans, which masked the full extent of wetness. None of his relatives knew he wet himself; only his wife knew. Nonetheless, he felt less of a man for wetting his jeans. It was the same kind of feeling that washed over him when he was drinking at the bar 20 years ago and the same thing happened to him. It was different when he wore diapers because nobody knew and it was easier to clean up. Without diapers as protective insurance, he felt vulnerable. His bladder wasn't completely empty. He stood before the urinal and unloaded, but he only had a few drips left to spare. He soaked his pants. The only option he had would be to wait in the car until Susan arrived. He did just that. Mark sulked away from the picnic and got in the driver's seat. He waited patiently for Susan. It was 15 minutes since he left the bathroom. Since she was nowhere in sight, Mark decided to call Robbie and touch base with him. Meanwhile, Robbie was on his shift with his cell phone rang. He looked at his phone, and saw that Mark was calling. He told the manager that he was taking a quick 15-minute break. He answered the phone in mid-dash to the employee break room. "Hey Mark, how's it going?" Robbie answered. "You wouldn't believe this. I'm at this picnic, right? I'm showing off Frank with Susan and suddenly, I'm peeing my pants." "Don't you always do that?" he asked Mark with a tired drawl. "I wasn't wearing diapers when it happened." Robbie perked his head up. "Why not?" "I was with family. 'Sides, I'm trying to not make it a daily thing. It's for Susan's sake." He looked down at his crotch briefly. "You must have been wearing for a while, though, if you actually had a wetting accident like that -- and not even know you were going." "It was weird, man. I always had control before except when I was drunk. Now I don't." He puts the cell phone down momentarily as he saw Susan approaching the car with Frank in her arms. "I have to get going, Rob. Talk to you later, alright?" Click. Susan didn't see Mark on the phone. She put the child in the car seat and hopped into the passenger side seat. She raised an eyebrow at Mark, looked down on his crotch and grimaced. "Really, Mark? Really?" Mark didn't detect anger in her voice. "What can I say? I'm sorry about that." She shook her head. "It's alright. Just had to tell mom that you had some work to do at home and had to go." As Mark drove away from the park, Susan looked at her husband's wet crotch again. She chuckled to herself and covered her forehead. "I can't believe it." She faced Mark. "You have an erection. Now what in the world am I gonna do with you now?" Mark blushed. "I'm sorry." He couldn't stop apologizing to her. "Does mommy have to put you in diapers again?" asked Susan in a strangely sweet but seductive voice. Mark opened his eyes wide. He pulled up to a red light and gave Susan a bewildered look. "Huh. That's out of character for you." She shrugged. "Hey, it was worth a shot." "Wait! Did you want to...?" "I'm kinda in the mood. I've had my hands full lately and I was hoping to... you know." Her voice turned into a whisper. "Let's not talk about sex in front of the baby." Mark laughed. "He's cool with it." Frank cackled. It was perfect timing. Later that night, Mark and Susan had some fun. Inside his bedroom, Mark humped Susan wildly like the end of the world was approaching and they only had 30 minutes of time to spend with each other. As he was on top of her, Mark's face was completely red. His eyes rolled to the back of his head when he felt the pleasure consume him. As Mark pressed into Susan, the blanket slid off of his back. He was wearing a diaper, but the front of it was pulled down. She moaned and whimpered as she experienced a very exhilarating ride. She could barely keep her legs down on the bed. Mark's brute strength kept her moving. She could barely see Mark through her long bangs that covered her eyes, but the intense pleasure inside her was what counted. Since Mark came out as a diaper lover, the sex had never been better. Though she wasn't particularly moved by the initial idea of her husband wearing diapers, Susan enjoyed Mark's arousal from them. She knew what turned him on, and what turned him on didn't deter her from connecting with him on an intimate level. When she thought about Mark wetting and messing his diapers, she was disgusted. Beside those who wear diapers, who wouldn't be? But she liked how taboo it was. So did Mark. After months of coming to terms with his diaper-wearing habit, Susan found something she could work with -- and it made the sexual experiences more worthwhile. Every time they had sex, it felt like she was losing her virginity all over again. As long as Mark didn't poop in his diaper during intercourse, she was good to go. When he was done, Mark pulled his diaper back up and rolled off of her. She laid in bed naked, looking up at the ceiling. She was breathless. She placed a hand on her breasts and took several deep breaths. Mark stretched his arms, yawned and passed out on the bed. After more than 20 years of wearing diapers, Mark was no longer paranoid about wearing diapers around Susan. He went to sleep with a clear mind and a clear conscience. Though there was one thing that kept him from having the fairy tale ending: Robbie. He dreamed of Robbie that night. In the dream, Mark and Robbie had a consensual, gay encounter. They were in a motel room together. They sat up in bed, wearing nothing but diapers. They foldled each other. The momentum truly started, though, when Mark kissed Robbie on the lips. While his lips was locked in with Robbie's, Mark reached down to grab his younger partner's diaper. Robbie responded by squirming and moaning once he was touched. He returned the favor by lowering his head until he was able to stare directly at Mark's diaper. Robbie pressed his nose against Mark's diaper, and rubbed it slowly. The last thing Mark could remember from his dream was when he started to wet himself as Robbie sniffed him. A subtle hissing noise could be heard as Mark flooded his diaper. It felt like he was peeing endlessly with every second being more pleasurable than the last. As if a camera was placed in their hotel room, Mark could see his own diaper from Robbie's perspective. Mark had a dark yellow spot that expanded quickly from the lower right-corner of his diaperfront. The wetness indicators disappeared and the diaper was getting heavier. Robbie's nose kept the diaper from sagging so everything was tightly contained. Around the time Mark had finished wetting, the dream ended. He woke up at four in the morning. He looked over to Susan, who had her back facing him. He whispered softly to himself, "This is complicated." As much as he didn't want to admit to it, there was a love triangle between Susan, Robbie, and him. Mark knew that he was attracted to Robbie, but confessing out loud that he was anything but straight was a problem. There was no question that he enjoyed the sex with Susan, but what he could muster in bed with Robbie was something that existed on a whole new level. There was something very forbidden about it; something very risque and devilish. He wanted to do something with Mark, but he wasn't sure what that "something" would be. For a moment, he thought about Susan, and felt that her kindness was still being exploited by him. Was it time to speak up about Robbie? The couple had lunch at a local Italian eatery just a few miles from the ranch. They sat down with Frank, who was in a baby carrier, and they talked about money. Mark retired from his construction business at a relatively young age (in terms of construction work standards), but was collecting income as part of his bonus. He also had an extensive stock portfolio of high-yield agricultural investments that helped him net $77,000 a year. But the property taxes and upkeep expenses forced him and his family to live on a tight, but modest budget. Susan took a bite out of a slice of cheese pizza. "You know, Mark. Now that we have the baby, we ought to cut back on our own spending habits." Mark closed his eyes to listen. The noise in the restaurant was hard to overcome. "I agree," he said tersely. "You know what I'm about to say to you, but you already know. No need to repeat it." Mark nodded. "Oh, well -- yeah, I understand. No problem." Susan shrugged and raised an eyebrow at Mark. "Wait, that's it? I was expecting you to lose it, actually." "No, no," said Mark calmly. "I --" Mark couldn't finish his thought. He was going to suggest that there was an "alternative way to have fun" in diapers, and that involved networking with others who were diaper lovers. Mark did some research this back in the late 1990s. He was aware that there were other adult babies and diaper lovers out there, but he was the only one in his area -- or so he thought. Robbie came across the same impasse until he met Mark. Mark knew that getting together with other diaper fetishists was risky because he was married, so he never seriously entertained the idea until recently. When he saw Robbie in diapers, he got an electric charge from seeing someone else in them. He wanted to be in a setting where there were others who were diapered. The disadvantage of being sexually reliant on Susan was that she didn't wear diapers. She tried once, but was uncomfortable about the experience. Mark thought that disclosing his interest in mingling with othered diapered folks to his wife would add a new dimension to the marriage and make it more "spontaneous." But Mark quickly realized that a conversation about it could also snowball into questions about his sexuality and whether the marriage could still work despite wanting to put everything on the table. "What is it?" asked Susan. "Nothing." He scratched his head nervously. "I was just saying that I can cut back. Not a big deal." She looked into his eyes and slowly shook her head. She flashed a little smile. "'Not a big deal,' huh?" Mark scrambled to eliminate any of her suspicions. "Can we not talk about this at a restaurant?" he asked her. "Oh, sure." Susan understood why he was antsy. "Sorry about that." What was he thinking? Mark felt dumb for even thinking about approaching Susan with his ideas. He felt guilt the moment the thought reached his lips. He sat at the table, and wondered to himself about his wants and needs. He had everything that he wanted: a loving wife, a son, and the option to wear diapers whenever he wanted to as long as he recognized certain conditions. When he thought about the things he needed, Mark felt some discomfort. He was getting older and the thought of being with someone "till death do us part" scared him -- not that he didn't love Susan. Now that he had a son, Mark felt the ball and chain getting heavier around his ankles. He hoped to explore his sexuality a little more. While his sex life was good, it felt repetitive at times. He thought about having a same-sex relationship because it was different. It was uncharted territory. For instance, Mark felt a spark between him and Robbie, but nothing materialized from it. He felt the opportunity to experiment with someone of the same sex was slipping away because his attention has been dedicated to raising a family. It was a moral dilemma like no other. "It's weird to talk about, isn't it? Dealing with me has been a pain in the ass for you," said Mark in a rare moment of introspection. Susan crossed her arms. "Yes!" Mark chuckled. "Didn't expect you to be that honest!" "Well, I mean it is something you don't see every day. With a baby, it's like, 'Okay, that's what babies wear, right? Not adults.' I mean, healthy adults. Was it a shock to me when I found out about it? Sure, but at the same time, I can understand it. Y'know, we all have our secrets and we're embarrassed by some of them. It's not like we want to lie about it and keep secrets, but it falls in the category of 'nobody else needs to know.' I can understand why you weren't forthcoming about it. Putting myself in your shoes, I wouldn't know how to deal with it either. 'Hey, guess what honey?' No, I wouldn't even have the courage to do that. I think what got me was how many years this was going on for -- but oh Lord! I'm grateful you are still you. You're still the same guy I fell in love with. You're still the same guy I married." Mark wasn't so sure about the last part. He appreciated the kind words, though. "I love you," he told her. That's all he could say. He kept having the same dreams at night. He was back at the hotel room with Robbie, having a sexual encounter that allowed him to pursue his impulses. However, the dreams would also end the same: the diapers were never removed. There was a mental block that Mark couldn't overcome. He wasn't able to visualize what could happen after the foreplay. This frustrated him, and his curiosity was finally boiling over. To his credit, Mark kept thinking about Susan. He tried justifying his curiosity internally by vowing to remain committed to monogamy after he had a "taste" of the same sex. All he wanted was a taste.

I see liberalism as the empowerment of government to "level the playing field" for everyone. Conservatives call that socialism. I see conservatism as the empowerment of people to build America brick-by-brick. Liberals call that blind faith in the free market. It's really potato, po-tah-toe. In the long run, both sides really want the same things, such as personal autonomy, equality and success. That said, open-mindedness is not some code-word for wanting the "other side" to agree with you. It's about listening. I said that a few times already. As KittenAB said, it's about incorporating new information instead of "reciting the same claims or conspiracy theories over and over again." See, that's why I ignored a few people in this thread. I've softened my "absolute ignore" stance, and will reply to comments that show the potential of having a constructive dialogue. That I will give them.

Ah, BIID. I've heard of that disorder from time to time. Never knew anyone who had it. Come to think of it, I've never gone that far, BUT there was a time when I wanted to be dependent on diapers with a complete loss of control, similar to a paraplegic: not even knowing that waste is being discharged because there is no sensation down there. Then when I binged on diapers a few years back, I was overwhelmed with the responsibility, and couldn't handle it.

Like you, it's a mixed bag. There's a strong sexual element when it comes to wearing diapers. What makes it sexual is its taboo nature. For me, I like wearing them knowing that nobody else knows. I like using my diaper with no hesitation, and I like how nobody knows if I used it or when I did. The mystique helps. I like seeing other men and women diapered -- whether they use it or not, it doesn't matter. I'm already hooked. There's also a convenience element. I wear because I have partial incontinence as a result of GERD and IBS. I suffer from a lot of gas, and that often pushes down on my stomach and sphincter muscles -- so when I use my diaper, it feels refreshing versus "holding it" for a certain period of time.

Gosh. I love conservatives, especially ones who DO NOT give in. However, that's different than being completely closed-minded, and saying that you're unconditionally "right" about politics.

I really don't get the Media Matters hate, to be honest. I've read a lot of blogs and partisan analysis sites from the left and the right. I've found MM to be rather fair.