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I have wondered what it would be like to give a blow job while pooping a diaper. Has anyone done it? What was it like?

Hey everyone! It's Sophie! Pudding and I have been writing a few short stories recently so I'm just going to post them all at once. If you like them and want to support our writing, please check out our Patreon: www.patreon.com/sophieandpudding -------------------------- A Mommy’s Love By Sophie *Author’s Note: This story is just some cute hypno diaper smut about a Mommy who takes some extra precautions to make sure her baby stays in diapers. Disclaimers: diapers, hypnosis, wetting, messing, oral sex -------------------------- I sat with my feet over Mommy’s lap, stealing glances at her out of the corner of my eye. We had been watching TV for the better part of the hour, and I was starting to think things might actually be settling down. Just in time, too. Ever since she woke me up with a kiss on the forehead and a finger in the leg-band of my diaper, she had been in full-on Mommy mode. It was a fun game we liked to play; I was her baby and she would take care of me. Sometimes it was cute and innocent, and other times… well… Today, Mommy wasn’t playing around. She changed me into one of the most infantile diapers I had - with a booster for the extra thickness - and a dress with fluffy sleeves and a round collar. I tried telling her I could be a grown up, but her casual remark on the state of my diaper that morning put the argument to rest. My bedwetting was a new development. Mommy spoon-fed me breakfast and gave me a baby bottle of chocolate milk. I didn’t even complain because she never gave me chocolate milk in the mornings. Then she pushed my paci in my mouth and sat me in front of the morning cartoons while she did the dishes. After an episode or two, Mommy came back with a plan for the day: “I wanna hypnotize you.” We had done it before, and I loved playing along. It was always a lot of fun, and the thought of her controlling me was… well, I wasn’t about to say no. Unfortunately, by the end of it, I didn’t remember any particular triggers. She was just talking a lot about how much I love her, or about how much I wanted to make her happy. Then it was over. As the day went on, her teasing escalated. She took me out to lunch in my frilly party dress, where she made me say ‘pretty please’ to the waitress when ordering my food. Then we went to the grocery store, where she checked my diaper in an empty aisle with a firm press to the front of my dress. When we got back to the car, she laid me down in the back seat and changed me into a dry diaper. I knew her car windows were tinted, but it didn’t make me any less embarrassed. When we got home, everything started to settle down. We talked about ordering pizza for dinner and she put a grown up show on the TV. Every so often her hand would slide up my thigh to the front of my diaper, but the mood had changed. We were equals, or close to it. I started up a few conversations to test the waters. Every so often she would lightly tease me, like how cute I am or how well behaved I had been today, but that was normal. Even when she was just my girlfriend, she was always a little bit my mommy. Just a little bit. Another ache rumbled through my tummy and I stole another glance at Mommy. It was now or never. I took my feet off her lap and got up on my feet, crinkling with every small movement. I raised my hands above my head to stretch, flashing the seat of my diaper just a bit. She didn’t react. “I’ll be right back,” I muttered, stepping away from the sofa. “Where ya goin’?” Mommy asked without looking away from the TV. I froze in place and bit my lip. Moment of truth… “I, um… I’m gonna use the bathroom…” The second it took her to reply felt like an hour. But unexpectedly, Mommy said: “Okay. You go be an adult.” For a moment, I stood dumbfounded. I thought for sure I would have to argue with her. I would have to beg or offer something embarrassing in return. Curtsies were a recent go-to of hers, or asking in baby talk. I must have been standing there a while, because then she said: “What are you waiting for? You’re an adult, aren’t you?” “I… um…” I should have turned on my heel and hurried off to the bathroom, but I was thinking about something else. About her. About how kind she was for letting me use the bathroom at all! She didn’t have to do that. I just wished I could show her how much I appreciated her… “Go on,” she encouraged, waving her hand to shoo me away. I almost left, but then she added: “You know how to use the potty, right? All adults do.” A thought came into my mind. I knew how I could make her feel appreciated. I knew how to please her. So I took an unsteady step back toward the couch and slid down to my knees, looking up at her with bright, loving eyes. She tilted her head curiously. “Something wrong?” she asked. “Is being an adult too hard?” A tight cramp in my stomach was replaced shortly thereafter with butterflies. I reached forward with both my hands until they were hooked in the waistband of Mommy’s leggings. She lifted her butt almost instinctively, like I did when she changed my diapers, and slid her pants and panties down to her knees. Then her ankles. Adult. That word echoed in my mind. Mommy spread her knees apart and I leaned in to kiss between her thighs. Instantly, I could hear her breathing change. I could feel her hips moving ever so slightly against my face. Time slipped away from me as my tongue slipped in and out of her. Then another queasy ache filled my belly and I let out a muffled whimper. I really needed to use the potty, and Mommy seemed to read my mind. “Don’t you still have to go to the bathroom?” she asked. I nodded and pulled away, sitting upright on my heels. I looked up at Mommy with a glossy expression. I was just about to stand up when she added: “Like an adult?” I couldn’t leave her like that. I just couldn’t! I loved her so much, and I wanted her to know it. I wanted her to know how sexy she was, how important she was to me, and how much I appreciated her. I wanted to make her happy. I wanted to bring her as much pleasure as she brought me. “Gosh…” Mommy moaned, my tongue between her legs. “If you can’t prioritize getting to the potty… then maybe you aren’t an adult.” I whimpered. I was an adult! I could be! But… but… “An adult would get up and use the potty,” Mommy added, quivering as she spoke. She was breathing heavily and I felt another cramp twist my stomach into knots. An adult would get up and use the potty… “Last chance,” she warned, playing with my hair as I continued to flitter my tongue between her thighs. “If you want to be an adult, go use the bathroom.” But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Being an adult, using the potty, none of that was as important as pleasing my Mommy. I wanted her to be rewarded for everything she did for me. I wanted to make her so happy. “Then you made your choice,” Mommy moaned, tugging my hair and pushing me deeper between her legs. “You aren’t an adult anymore. You’re my obedient little baby, and grown-up things are off limits to you now. No more potty. No more decisions. Your only purpose is to make Mommy happy. And if you do a very good job, Mommy will train you to love your diapers as much as you love your Mommy.” I was crouched on my hands and knees, squatting back so that my diapered butt was only barely touching the heels of my feet. Another ache churned in my stomach, but I wasn’t thinking about that. I was thinking about Mommy’s moans and gasps. I was so focused on making her happy that I didn’t notice until it was too late. As Mommy’s hips spasmed and waves of pleasure flooded through her body, I began to fill the seat of my diaper. She continued to writhe and moan as I continued to mess myself, until we were both comfortable and exhausted. “Such a good baby,” Mommy whispered lazily, reaching down and pulling me up into her arms. I curled up on top of her, against her breasts, and she passively patted the seat of my diaper. Each squish made me shiver with embarrassment, but I knew it was something I would have to get used to. After all, I would never be able to use the potty again. Then Mommy started a very familiar sentence: “Let’s…” ‘Get you changed’ were the words that always followed that tone. But my hopes were dashed when she finished her thought: “Let’s get you started on that training. We have a long way to go if you’re going to love your diapers as much as you love me.” I blushed, but she was right. I would need a lot of training to love anything as much as I loved her. [End]

Young feeling femboi senior of 69 who quite enjoys wearing feminine underthings, is looking to spend quality diaper/wetting/pee play time with a like mind fellowI am very much into diaper play, diaper changing, wetting, all forms of pee/wetting play, and very, very oral attentiveI am also quite into chastity cage play as wellIf you are happy, comfortable, and seriously enjoy the same things, I would love to hear from you. And if you have fem/sissyboi tendencies, well, all that much better. Discretion is assured

So anyone notice an absence of oral in a padded relationship? I've noticed a decline, but the wife still goes there on her own accord.