My Nurse Cherie: A Weekend Stay In The Hospital

[wetvinyl]

Yes, this is my very first story-- based on an actual hospital visit I had a couple months ago. I'm still writing it, so I'll just post this for now. Like I said, some of this story is true (all of this part is); I'm looking forward to departing from reality ;-)

Sorry for the weird line breaks-- I wrote it in Notepad, and it's not copy&pasting the right way. Oops.

Anyway, I hope you like it, and I look forward to hearing your comments.

10-15-06 EDIT: I've slightly tweaked this story since I first starting posting it... I won't change any of the posts here, but my slightly-revised version can be found here.

*****************

NURSE CHERIE: A Weekend Stay in the Hospital

It was around nine-thirty that Saturday night when I heard the nurse come into the hospital room. I'd drawn the curtain between my bed and the one closer to the door, so I couldn't see which nurse it was. But then I heard her voice, as she spoke to the patient in the other bed.

"Hi-- Mr. Jenkins? How are you?"

My roomate had come in around ten that morning. He was an elderly man who'd apparently had some chest pain, and his family had brought him in. I hadn't gotten this information from him-- in fact, I hadn't spoken to him at all-- but rather, I'd overheard some of the conversation between his family and the floor staff.

"Wha," the old man grunted. "Who are you?"

"I'm Cherie, and I'll be your nurse tonight!" she replied brightly. "How are you feeling? Did you get enough to eat?"

There was a pause, and then Mr. Jenkins asked, "Wha... where am I?"

"You're in the hospital! Your family brought you here," Cherie told him.

Mr. Jenkins thought about this. "A hospital?"

"Uh-huh... they were worried that you might be having a heart attack, and they brought you here last night, so we could get a look at you."

Another pause. "My family?"

"Uh-huh!" Cherie continued in that same bright, cheery voice. "Your daughter and son-in-law. So we just want to run some tests to see how your heart is.. ok?"

"But... was I at work?" Mr. Jenkins asked, with some confusion.

"No, you were at home with your family," Cherie reminded him.

"But I need... I need to get back to work!" the old guy protested.

"Well... we just want to check you out and make sure everything's ok first, ok?" Cherie replied, indulgently.

Another pause. "...Why am I here?" Mr. Jenkins asked.

It was also apparent, from overhearing several of these wandering conversations earlier, that Mr. Jenkins was suffering from advanced Alzheimer's disease. This was the third time he'd asked where he was, and why he was here. Cherie was totally professional, and fielded his repeated questions with short, upbeat replies. Then she redirected his attention to the reason for her visit.

"So, did you get enough to eat?" she asked.

"...Uh..." he replied, and then, "Why, I guess so."

"Do you want some more water?"

Pause. "What is today?"

"Today is Saturday. Can I get you some more water?"

"Uh... Well, I guess so."

"Ok, I'll bring you some water. But for now, I want to get you cleaned up," Cherie said. "Can I do that?"

"Uh... what do you mean?" the old guy asked.

"Well, I need to change your bedsheets," Cherie replied helpfully, "and change your diaper. Can I do that for

you?"

I heard this-- and from then on, it was a hospital stay unlike I'd ever had before.

_____________

I'd come in Friday night, for much the same reason as Mr. Jenkins would: An odd pain-- not in my chest but in my left shoulder-- that could have been symptoms of some cardiac event. I'd had a heart attack two years before, with much the same symptoms; and now, even with a regimen of meds, exercise and healthier diet, I

didn't want to take a chance on sitting at home if another heart thing was going on. So I'd checked myself in.

A quick run of blood tests and an EKG came back negative; my heart was doing just fine. Still, with my history, the attending doc didn't want to send me back home; it was safer to hang onto me for the weekend, and have me here for a treadmill stress-test first thing Monday.

Well, ok. I was relieved that I wasn't actually having a heart attack (how's that for understatement?). Still, I wasn't looking forward to laying around in the hospital all weekend. But there was nothing to be done for it; I wasn't going anywhere until Monday. So, I called a couple friends and assured them that I was fine, nothing

serious was going on-- but I'd appreciate it if they could drop the newspaper and a couple books off, to help

me pass the time.

It was almost ten-thirty when I finally got transferred up to a room. It was a double-occupancy, but nobody else was in the room; I got the bed closest to the window. After taking a quick shower in the bathroom, I got in bed and watched teevee for a while.

I guess I'd dozed off after that, because the next thing I knew somebody was gently shaking my foot, calling my name. I blinked awake, and saw the nurse at the foot of my bed. Outside my window, it was still dark.

She noticed I was awake, and smiled. "Hi-- sorry to wake you," she said in soft apology. "The pharmacy sent up some meds for you, before you go to sleep."

"Oh-- uh, alright... it's ok," I sat up. "What time is it?"

"Just after midnight," she said, stepping to the side of my bed.

"Wow," I said, still kind of groggy. Then I took my first good look at her-- and the grogginess fell away real fast.

She was a tall dark-haired beauty. As she leaned towards my bedside table, I watched as her snug uniform

stretched over a firm, well-toned but curvy figure. Her skin was dark complected, either well-tanned or from a Mediterranean ancestry. My gaze moved upward and gazed as her blouse strained against her good-sized breasts; easily a D cup, and I caught a glance of a black satin bra cup under her uniform. Her dark chestnut hair fell in unrestrained curls past her shoulders, framing a face that made me catch my breath. Her lips were full and sensuous, parting slightly in a slightly mischievous smile; her nose was a cute button faintly bridged by a spray of freckles.

But all this was peripheral to the magnet-like attraction of her eyes; big and dark brown, and now looking right towards me. They held my gaze, and I found myself staring at her for a moment in rapt fascination.

I tore my gaze away from her face and looked at her name tag. After noticing that her hair was much shorter in her photo, I spotted her name: Cherie.

"And how are you feeling, after your little nap?" she asked me, with that little mischeivous smile.

"Uh-- fine! Excellent," I managed. "I'm ready to go home now," I added.

She laughed softly. "Ah, well, it's not that easy, I'm afraid," she purred. "I guess you're going to be with us for a couple more days, at least."

I nodded. "Yeah, so I hear," I said. "Well, I guess I wasn't doing anything this weekend anyway."

Cherie laughed again, and said "Well, there you go-- then you're not missing anything!" She handed me the small paper cup of pills; I tipped them into my hand, tossed them into my mouth, and chased them down with a cup of water that Cherie handed me.

"So just think," Cherie smiled. "Now you can spend the weekend just relaxing, laying around in bed, and let us take care of everything for you," Cherie smiled. "What could be better than that?"

I looked at this gorgeous woman standing beside my bed, and thought of a couple things that could make my

hospital experience a lot better. But I decided that giving voice to these suggestions would probably not be

the wisest thing I could do, right then. Oh well.

"Well Jeez, Cherie," I shrugged with a smile. "That sounds pretty rough, but I'll try to struggle through."

Then: "Are you working tonight?"

She nodded. "Double shift," she said, with a trace of unenthusiasm. "I came in early tonight to cover for one

of the other girls, and then my regular shift started at eleven."

"Oh man," I said with sympathy. "That's a long night."

"Yeah," she sat down on the edge of my bed. "Well, my ex has the kids this weekend, so I can work the hours. I've just had some work done on the house, so the extra money will be a good thing."

My brain instantly filed this casually-offered information away: single (but with kids), has her own house. Hmmm.

"You live here in town?" I inquired.

She shook her head, and mentioned one town over.

I was pleasantly surprised. "Me too!"

"Really?" she exclaimed. "What part?"

I told her the section of town I lived in, and she told me she was about a half-mile from me. Then we both

started complaining about the traffic jams on Route 147 through town, and the road construction of King Street... and suddenly we were bonding over traffic jams.

This went on for about five minutes, when suddenly Cherie looked at her watch. "Oh gosh-- I've gotta finish my run, and go help out up on five," she stood up. Then she turned and gave me that smile again. "Can I get you anything before I leave?"

I shook my head. "No, but thanks, Cherie. I'm just gonna get some sleep."

"You want a little snack, or something?" she offered. "Before you go to sleep?"

I looked at her, and grinned. "You mean, like, warm milk and cookies?"

She laughed. "Sure, I can get you that, if you want."

"Excellent," I grinned. Then added: "Thank you, Mommy."

She laughed again... but it was softer, and her dark brown eyes seemed to regard me with something more than just simple amusement. "Anything else?"

Hey, what the heck. "Um... how about a bedtime story, and then tuck me in?" I ventured.

Cherie smiled. "Well, I've never heard that one before."

I shrugged. "Well, you know... the whole 'relax in bed and let us take care of you' thing you were talking about before."

"Uh-huh," she said. Then she leaned forward (giving me another peek at her glorious cleavage), and gently

patted my hand. "I'm a little too busy for that tonight, big boy," she cooed. "Let me get back to you on that,

ok?"

I looked up at her gorgeous face, into those entrancing eyes... and then noticed, for the first time, the faint

perfume of baby powder drifting from her skin.

Oh, my, God.

"Uh... ok," I managed. "Please do."

She laughed softly again, and stood back up. "I'll be right back with your milk and cookies," she said, and

strolled prettily away.

to be continued...

[the diaper mike]

more plz

[wetvinyl]

The next day, Saturday, I woke up in time for breakfast at seven; then, like I said, they brought Mr. Jenkins into the room a couple hours later. A couple of my friends stopped by with the requested reading material around noon, and we hung out for a while. Lunch came; then they left, and I settled back with the paper. Dinner came around 6 PM, and the chef salad I'd ordered was actually pretty tasty. And that was pretty much the extent of my day.

I was watching "CSI" when Cherie made her visit to Mr. Jenkins. I heard her come in, and instantly forgot all about the teevee. Forgot about everything and sat up expectantly, like a little kid, waiting for her to come over to my side of the curtain.

Yes... it was really rediculous. She'd made a couple friendly remarks to me, we'd kidded around a little, she brought me some treats... but So What? She was a nurse, and that's what good nurses do; put the patient at ease during a hospital stay. Guys in the hospital getting the hots for the cute'n'friendly nurse on their floor-- it happened so often, it was cliche. And now I was just doing the same thing-- getting the major dogs on for Cherie.

Still, though...

Hearing her voice on the other side of the curtain, I could picture her... see her face... imagining her body move. She was just SO supernaturally HOT. I wanted her to just hurry up and finish with demented old Mr. Jenkins, so she could stroll that fine stuff over to my side. Well hello, Cherie. You're looking quite good today.

Then I remembered that her regular shift didn't start until midnight; she must have come in early again. Damn-- working double shifts two days in a row. She had to be exhausted.

I was just sitting there, mentally tapping my fingers and waiting for her to come over, and it wasn't happening. Part of me understood that she was just doing her job-- and that Mr. Jenkins undoubtedly required more of her professional attention time than I did, for sure. But still... sitting there listening to her voice, and imagining that physical beauty so close by while she tended to him, I couldn't help but think that her beauty was probably completely lost on the old guy. In his dementia-addled mind, he'd drifted back to some long-lost decade, and had no appreciation for the beautiful woman right in front of him.

It was in the midst of this impatient, selfish and rather bitter line of thinking that I heard Cherie ask him, in that bright, encouraging voice: "I want to get you cleaned up... can I do that?"

"Uh... what do you mean?" the old guy asked.

"I need to change your bedsheets," Cherie replied helpfully. "And change your diaper. Can I do that for you?"

I heard that question-- her voice practically pleading Please let me help you, I want to change your diaper and make you feel so much more comfortable... please?-- and my brain instantly shouted "The HELL with that insensate old guy-- you'll never make HIM feel better! He's beyond comprehension! He could sit in a soaked and poopy diaper for two days and he'd never know the difference! If you want to make SOMEONE feel better, and be APPRECIATED for it... come over here and change MY diaper, Cherie!"

"Ok-- come on Mr. Jenkins, let's stand you up," Cherie said; the last few words were strained as she lifted him to his feet. "Ok, now I'm just gonna take your diaper off and get you cleaned up, ok?"

"Hey, now-- I don't need to get cleaned up," Mr. Jenkins complained.

"Of course you do! Look, you're all wet and your bedsh--"

"Goddamit I said NO," he bellowed. "I want to LIE DOWN!"

"Mr. Jenkins, this will take just a minute--"

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF ME!" His voice filled the room, bouncing off the walls and out into the hall.

"No, I'm only trying to help you," Cherie said in a calm voice. "Now if you'll just let me change--"

"FU**ING C*NT LEAVE ME THE F*CK ALONE"

I couldn't believe what I'd just heard. I sat in my bed, my brain spinning.

"Alright Mr. Jenkins," Cherie said in a flat voice. "You can get back in bed if you want. I don't deserve to be spoken to that way. I'm leaving now. But--"

"Good, f*ck off and leave me alone. I'm tired."

"--but we do need to change your bedsheets, and get you cleaned up--"

"Cherie, what's going on here? Do you need help?" Another female voice came to the door.

"Yeah," Cherie replied, and filled the new arrival in on the situation. "I was just gonna leave him for later, after he calms down, but--"

"No, let's do this now," the second nurse said. "Before he wakes up everybody on the floor later on."

"Ok... thanks Lynn," Cherie replied. "I just need help getting him changed. Then I can do his bedsheets after."

"Ok," Lynn said. "Mr. Jenkins?" she moved into the room. "Mr. Jenkins? We're going to help get you cleaned up now. Ok?"

No reply.

"Ok Mr Jenkins, I need you stand up for a minute, can you do that for me? You need to get out of bed for a little bit, and we're going to change your diapers and give you some new bedsheets. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Still no reply. Then Cherie came back into the room-- and then the real fun began.

There are moments you witness people doing their jobs, and the things you see make you realize "I could never do that for a living". I didn't even have to see the nurses' struggle to get Mr Jenkins into a new diaper-- what I heard was enough for me. Through it all they were totally professional, flustered but never completely losing their cool; and all the while, Mr Jenkins was Senile Dementia Tourette's Syndrome Man. I sat listening, transfixed-- feeling waves of amazement, anger, sympathy, fascination... and not just a little jealousy.

As the nurses worked and the old man complained, I heard the muted snap of the tapes being pulled, and the crinkle of the wet diaper. "Now just let me clean you up a little, ok?" Cherie asked nicely. A moment later Mr Jenkins exclaimed "GodDAMMIT get AWAY from my DICK you WHORE" and Lynn calmed assured him "This will all be over in a second". Then Cherie said "Ok, give me the diaper". I heard it being unfolded-- much louder crinkling than the old wet diaper.

Then Cherie told Mr Jenkins: "Ok now sit up... I'm going to put this nice, dry, new diaper on you." A pause. "Can I do that for you?"

I realized that I was almost fully erect. I wasn't surprised. My heart was pounding, and I was almost shaking with the mental image of Cherie standing there with a soft snuggly disposible diaper in her hand, asking if she could put it on me. This blew away any diaper-related fantasy I'd ever imagined before; it was happening, less than three feet away from me--

--and yet, it wasn't happening to ME! Instead, I had to sit and listen while the beautiful nurse Cherie was only trying to make the demented 89-year-old man a little more comfortable by offering to put a fresh new diaper on him-- and the guy was actually COMPLAINING about it! My head wanted to explode from the vast ironic injustice of it all.

"Ok, I've had enough. Lynn, give me a hand here," Cherie finally said with definate impatience. "Lift his butt." There was a sound of shifting weight on the bed; then I heard the sound of Cherie pulling the diaper into place, the diaper crinkling loudly.

"DAMN you-- I DON'T NEED that!!" Mr Jenkins bellowed.

"Oh yes you do," Cherie told him. "Now lay still until I get it on you."

"NURSE--" he yelled, and I could hear him thrashing around, the diaper crinkling as Cherie struggled to get it taped on.

Finally: "Ok... all done," Cherie said. "Now isn't that better?"

"I want to go to sleep," Mr Jenkins said curtly.

"Ok, that's fine," Lynn said evenly. "Come over here, Mr Jenkins. Sit over here, while we change your bedsheets. Come on-- I'll help you."

I listened with roaring ears as the drama came to an anti-climactic end: I heard the old guy shuffle across the room and then fall heavily into a chair, his new diaper crinkling every inch of the way. He didn't say another word. Cheri changed the bedsheets, and helped him back into bed.

"Do you need anything else, Mr Jenkins?" she asked him, evenly.

No reply.

"Mr Jenkins?"

"NO," he told her. "I want to go to SLEEP."

"Ok," she said simply, and left.

I was kind of glad she'd left. At least, for now. I wasn't ready to see her just yet... or more like, I wasn't ready for her to come around my curtain and see that I'd witnessed that whole scene, right after it'd happened. Most likely, she'd gone to take a break, a smoke or a long walk, something-- and she deserved it.

But, oh my god... how I suddenly wanted Cherie to put ME in a diaper.

How much I wanted that to happen.. and how I'd make damn sure that she knew how much I appreciated her for it.

I wanted that so badly, I couldn't think. It was just a perfect, unformed concept: Cherie diapering me. Comforting me.

And then I'm telling her "Thank you, Cherie... you've made me feel a lot better. I appreciate what you've done."

That image sat in my brain, and didn't go away. It was rediculous. Nay-- the "male-patient-crush-on-the-pretty-nurse" thing was rediculous; this concept of getting Cherie to diaper me was absurd. First and foremost, I wasn't wearing a diaper now, nor had I since I'd been in the hospital; so, she'd have no reason to think I really needed one. And second, given my doubtful need to wear a diaper, she could very well just toss me a bedpan. Why would she give herself another diaper to change?

No, there was no way I could make that happen. I mean, I would literally have to--

I caught my breath.

The idea just sort of walked out of the chaos of impossible complications... simple, and straight-forward.

I considered it... and then thought, Do you really think you could DO that?

And then, Even if you could-- do you think she'd fall for it?

I thought about Cherie's face, her dark brown eyes smiling softly as she asked me: "Can I do that for you?"

That image made me realize it was worth a risk to find out...

to be continued...

[onsie]

so far I like it!

[wetvinyl]

the diaper mike, onsie

Thanks for your comments... I'm still writing on it. Sorry it's taking so long to get to the full-on diaper action-- it's coming, I promise!

BTW, I won't tell now where the story goes fictional, but it's further along than you think ;-)

wv

[the diaper mike]

more plz

[:dlb]

I've been in the hospital a lot in the past 16 years. Diapered off and on for the first 5. And I tell ya I had some enjoyable moments too, but I was too new to the situation to enjoy it.

GREAT STORY.

[wetvinyl]

Couldn't get onto DD the last couple days, for some reason... but don't worry, I've been busily writing.... I'm having great fun remembering this experience, and writing it down. I hope you're enjoying it too.

----------

By now, it was a little after ten PM. I sat in my bed, my mind still whirling with the outrageous scene I'd overheard on the other side of the curtain... my sympathy for Cherie, the beautiful and sexy nurse who'd been subjected to the old man's abuse when she tried to diaper him... and my own crazily vivid desire to have her diaper me, and to look up into her gorgeous face and thank her for being so kind, and to see her give me that lovely little smile. All this banged around in my head like a malfunctioning Cuisinart...

...and yet, on top of all of that, my little plan for making that fantasy come true was slowly building, coming together... becoming more of a real possibility. Putting it in motion woukd be really quite simple; after that, I had no idea if she would fall for the ruse, or not. In any event, all it came down to was the matter of my playing the role as convincingly as I could, and hoping for the best.

Eventually I found myself over-thinking it, and worrying about it too much. I turned back to the teevee and tried to distract myself from the riot in my head. Thankfully, I found the Red Sox game; they were tied up 5-5 with the Yankees in the ninth; that was definately a good distraction. The hometown crowd at Fenway was going nuts as our closing pitcher Jon Papelbon worked Jeter to a 0-2 count, with one out and the bases empty. I quickly fell into the action, sweating every pitch.

By eleven o'clock, the game was into the top of the eleventh when Cherie came around my side of the curtain. "Hi!" she greeted me cheerfully-- and then she noticed the game. "My God, they're still playing? What's the score?" she asked.

"Five-five, top of the eleventh," I reported. "Pap put Damon on first, and now DiNardo is pitching."

"Oh man," she groaned, staring at the game.

"Yeah, no kidding," I nodded. "That can't go very well."

We fell silent and watched the drama for a few moments; Cherie asked me who had done the Red Sox scoring and I filled her in, having seen a quick scoring-highlights review that ran after the ninth. Cherie worried about our pitching staff, and I agreed. Then just like that, we were talking Red Sox baseball-- successes, failures, prospects, injuries, hopes for the post-season. I was impressed-- she knew her stuff, even talking about PawSox players down in the Triple A team.

"Where were you when they won the Series?" I asked.

She laughed. "Right here," she said. "But everybody had the game on, so we sort of got to see it." Then: "One patient down the hall, he was watching the game, and five minutes after they won, he coded and died. Just like that."

"You're kidding," I said in amazement.

"Nope," she said. "Just went into v-fib and never came back." She shrugged. "At least he went happy."

"Yeah, that's nice," I agreed.

"Hm," she nodded, and then turned to me. "So! How are you feeling tonight?" she turned her lovely gaze to me.

"Oh, I'm ok, Cherie," I replied. "Just kinda bored, that's all." I waved at the teevee; "I'd rather be at the game, to be honest."

She laughed. "Well sure... so would I, hon," she said, and moved over to the side of my bed. "But, as it is... you have to be here, just relaxing in bed... and I'm right here, to take care of you. That's not so bad, is it?"

I looked up at her-- and couldn't help but fall into the soft gorgeous gaze of her big brown eyes. Again, the soft wifts of her baby powder drifted past my nose. My brain went momentarily blank, and I struggled to get my ability to speak back.

"Uh... well no, Cherie-- it's not so bad at all," I managed. "I don't think I'd rather have anybody but you here, to take care of me."

As soon as it was out, it sounded stupid. But to my relief, she smiled and said, "Well, thank you-- that's very nice of you to say that."

I shrugged. "My pleasure, Cherie. You've made this a much better hospital stay for me."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," she said, nicely... but to my inner delight, I could see her eyes shine with a little glow of appreciation. It was sublime, indeed.

"It's not often that a patient tells me something like that," she added. Then she handed me the small cup of pills; "Here you go."

I tossed the meds down my throat, chased it with water. "Thanks."

She then stuck a thermometer in my mouth, and began to fit a blood-pressure cuff around my arm. Leaning over me, she gave me a delightful view down the unbuttoned top of her blouse, revealing her heavenly breasts cupped in that black satin bra. At the same time, I was totally enveloped in the sweet scent of her baby powder. Her long curly hair gently brushed against my shoulder.

It was crazy. I was speechless with waves of sensuous delight-- and, frankly, raw horniness.

Oh, Cherie. Oh my god, please...

"Hmm," she said. "Your blood pressure is up, some."

"Mmmmpf," I said with the thermometer in my mouth.

"You're usually a little low," she wondered, and bent over me again, readjusting the cuff. Another wide-screen hi-def look at her breasts; baby powder scent cascading into my nostrils. Needless to say, the second blood-pressure reading was pretty much the same as the first.

"Huh," Cherie uttered. "That's odd. How are you feeling?" she asked me, taking the thermometer from me.

Like throwing you into this bed and banging you all night, my brain wailed.

"I feel ok," I shrugged.

"Your temp is up a little, too," she noticed. "Feel like you're coming down with something?"

No, but I can sure feel something coming up-- and bigtime too, I mentally told her.

"No, not really," I shook my head. "Just a little tired, sleepy."

"Hmm," Cherie said. "Well, if you need anything, just give me a call. I'll be here till seven. Alright?"

"Cool, thanks," I replied. I had to get my wild horn-dog thoughts under control-- either I was going to have sex with Cherie right here and now, or the idea of it banging around loose in my brain was going to drive me nuts. Seeing as the former looked like a pretty remote possibility, I managed to put a grin on my face, and tried to say something vaguely witty.

"I promise not to go code blue on you, or anything," I assured her.

She laughed, wrapping up her equipment. "Well, good-- please don't," she told me. "You're one of the best patients I've got-- I wouldn't want to lose you." And again, she patted my hand.

The implications of her statement-- and the touch of her hand-- threatened to send my thought-processes careening loose again, but I plunged ahead. "Besides, you've already had a long-enough night as it is," I remarked.

She paused. "What do you mean?"

I eyed her and pointed at the curtain. Shook my head a little.

Her face regestered. "Oh-- that," she replied. "Yeah, that wasn't very fun." She looked with apology at me. "Sorry you had to hear that."

I shrugged. "You've got one tough job, babe," I said. "That was frigging outrageous. I mean, you were only trying to help the guy."

She nodded. "Yeah, well, he's got some pretty bad issues," she understated. "But, you just put your head down and do what you have to do."

"Yeah, I guess," I nodded. "Still, it sounded like a real ordeal."

"Oh, it was," she assured me... and then leaned close. "I was trying to get the diaper on him, and before I could get it on, he peed all over my shirt," she whispered with a smile.

"Oh man," I grinned. "Just like a baby."

"Yeah, but twice as bad," she said. "Just, full on. That's when I just said 'screw this', and got the thing on him, despite how much he fought it. Luckily one of the other girls was helping me."

"Yeah, I heard that," I nodded, and shook my head. "Jesus, Cherie. I couldn't do what you do." Meanwhile my head was filled with the image of Cherie grimly forcing the guy into the diaper, while the other nurse held down his struggling body. It was hot, beyond words.

"I guess that's why I try not to be too much of a pain in the ass, in here," I told her. "To kind of make up for all the cranky idiots you have to deal with all the time."

"Well, thank you. You're definately not a pain in the ass." She smiled and added, "I wish every patient had that attitude." Then she tossed her clipboard on her cart. "So, can I get you anything, while I'm here?" she asked... and then gave me that mischievous little smile. "Like some warm milk and cookies again...?"

I chuckled. "You're so good," I replied. "Sure, that'd be great, Cherie."

"Ok," she said, and wheeled her cart past my bed. Her snug uniform moved smoothly over her tight, firm body. "I'll be right back with that for you."

_______________

So by the time Cherie came back with my milk and cookies, Big Papi had put one over the Green Monster to deliver a walk-off home run victory for the Sox over the Yanks, 6-5. She got to see the replay, and we both had a little high-five for it; then I turned off the teevee, she bade me good night, and I dimmed my light.

"Don't forget to call me, if you need anything, ok?" she reminded me.

"I will, thanks," I assured her. "Have a good night, Cherie."

She left me in the dim semi-darkness... and I began to wait.

I wanted to let an hour or so go by. It was tempting to do it sooner... but the only way to make this look genuine would be to wait.

So I sat in the semi-darkness, with just enough light to read my book. This was kind of risky, because at home I'd usually read in bed to fall asleep. That was the last thing I wanted to do now-- risk waking up in the morning, long after I meant to put my plan into action.

No-- I just needed to stay awake for another hour. Then everything would happen.

So I sat in bed, and read. In the bed next to me, Mr Jenkins was sound asleep; for all his other maladies, at least he didn't snore. Outside the room, the floor bustled with quiet activity; the last of the overnight shift change was slowly settling in. I could hear bits of conversation as staff walked by in the hall; an occasional nurse-call ding, and someone a few rooms down had Conan on their teevee. But all in all, it was hushed, sounds muted; outside my window, a gentle wind stirred through the streetlight-illuminated trees, and faraway lights twinkled through the night.

About a half hour later, I felt the first twinges. I needed to pee.

I'd been downing water all evening. That had been the start of my plan; since dinner, I'd already drank a quart pitcher of ice water, and was halfway through a second. Naturally, this had sent me to the bathroom a lot, but that was fine; pee all I want, I'd drink more. I'd last gone right before Cherie's last visit; now, the urgewas building again.

I grabbed my cellphone off the bedside table, and checked the time: 12:20. It was still a little too soon. If I could last another 20 minutes or so, that'd be great.

Still, easier said than done. I soon had to go pretty badly. Checked the time again: 12:30. It had been 50 minutes since Cherie had left.

Was that enough time? Would she really think I could have been that deeply asleep in less than an hour? I didn't know.

I lay absolutely still, trying to ignore my bladder's swelling call, and stared at my book. The words didn't even enter my brain; fairly soon, I was in wiggling distress. Minutes dragged past. I felt my pulse pounding in my ears. I tried to relax but the urgent spasms came on, sooner and sooner. I was gonna have to let go real soon, whether I thought the time was right or not.

I curled on my side, closed my eyes, focused on holding on just a little longer--

--and then everything happened all at once.

I heard footsteps come into the room: "Mark? Are you ok in here?" Cherie called.

Instantly, in surprise, my bladder let go. Hot pee gushed into my bed, soaking the sheets, my blanket, my pants-- everything. I didn't try to stop it; just closed my eyes, and pretended to be asleep.

And so the plan started. A little unexpectedly, but nevertheless setting the opening circumstance I'd planned on: I'd wet the bed, apparently in my sleep.

I was totally soaked.

"...Mark?" I heard Cherie came to my bed, concern in her voice. "Are you awake?" And then she gently shook my foot, as she had the night before.

"Wha--!" I jerked "awake". Looked around, wide-eyed. Then I spotted Cherie, and I stared at her.

Cherie looked at me in surprise. "I'm sorry-- I didn't mean to startle you. But... your heart monitor was showing a pretty fast pulse," she told me. "How are you doing? You feeling ok?"

I kept the expression of suddenly-awakened disorientation on my face, while I realized what had happened: I was wearing a portable heart monitor with five EKG-type sensors stuck onto my chest. The monitor sent a wireless signal up to the nurses' station where they could monitor my heart function from there. Apparently, my struggles with my bladder had kicked my heart rate up, and brought Cherie running.

That detail hadn't figured into my plan. Oh well.

Now I relaxed a little. "Uh... yeah... I'm fine," I said slowly. "I was just having a bad dream." Then I looked down at my bedsheets. "Oh, man," I uttered in dismay.

"What's..." Cherie started to ask, turning on my light. Then she saw the sodden mess in my bed-- and she leaned forward, touching my shoulder.

"Oh, you poor baby," she said, softly.

The words caught me totally by surprise. She could not have chosen a more perfect thing to say. Her words, her soft voice, the sympathy... it sounded exactly as if she were comforting a 5-year-old. The pure, simple beauty of her statement struck me, and I couldn't speak a word in return.

Cherie gently took my arm. "Come on, hon," she cooed. "It's ok. Let's get you cleaned up." I allowed her to lead me over to the chair by the window, and sat me down. "I'll be right back. ...Are you ok?" she softly asked me.

I nodded. "Yeah... yeah," I could barely speak. Then I ventured, quietly: "I was afraid that might happen."

Cherie's expression didn't change, but she continued to look at me for a moment longer. Then she stroked my arm softly and told me, "Ok, you just stay there for a bit, and I'll get your bed changed, ok?"

"Ok," I nodded humbly. "Jeez, the mattress is probably ruined. I'm sorry."

She made a gently dismissing sound. "It's a vinyl mattress," she smiled; "for that very reason. So don't you worry about a thing. Now, I'll be right back, ok?"

"Ok," I nodded, quietly.

Cherie was back in less than a minute with fresh bedsheets, and new pj's which she handed to me. "Don't put those on yet," she told me. "I'm gonna change your bed, and then I'll get you cleaned up. Ok?"

"Alright," I was still playing down, acting embarrassed. Inwardly, however, my mind was racing ahead, picking up and analyzing every detail of the scene. For instance, I immediately noticed her change from saying "we're going to get you cleaned up", to "I'm going to change your bed" and "I'm going to get you cleaned up". A small thing, but I found it a little significant.

"Well, hey Mark-- that must've been one heck of a bad dream," Cherie said, not without sympathy, as she worked on my bed.

"Yeah, it was," I replied. "I usually don't have nightmares anymore, but this was right back there, alright."

"Do you remember what it was about?"

I thought, trying to think of something that would sound personal. Couldn't come with anything. "Not really," I shook my head. "I don't usually remember any of my dreams after I wake up."

"Ahh. Well, maybe that's a good thing, in this case," she offered, pulling the bottom sheet tight.

"Yeah, I guess so," I said.

She looked over at me, while spreading the top sheet. "You don't sound too glad about it."

I shrugged. "I don't care about having the nightmare... that's over."

She smoothed the sheet, and stood watching me. "Then, what's the matter?" she asked, gently.

I looked at her, and then shrugged again. Waved disconsolently at my sodden clothes. "Just..." I started. Took a deep breath. "This," I said.

She nodded slowly, with a sympathetic smile. "It's ok," she said softly. "It happens."

"Yeah I know it does," I replied. "But it sucks."

Cherie paused, and then something occured to her. "Is that what you meant when you said you were afraid this might happen...?"

I nodded, silently.

"So, it's happened before," she asked.

"Yeah," I mumbled.

"Does it happen very often?" Cherie asked gently.

"Often enough," I said. After a pause, I added, "Ever since my first heart attack, two years ago. I guess... I can't hold my water anymore."

Cherie finished spreading the blanket, and turned it back. "Well, sometimes a heart attack can affect other parts of your body too," she told me. "Or it could be a side affect from some of the drugs you're taking. Have you told your doctor about it?"

I shook my head, and didn't want to get side-tracked into a medical discussion about a problem that didn't really exist. My bladder control was fine; I'd just proved that fact, holding that gigantic piss for 20 long minutes.

I just wanted this beautiful woman to put a diaper on me. That was all. In fact, that was pretty much the only thing I wanted in the whole wide world, right now-- to have Cherie bending over me and whispering gently, her lovely face full of reassurance and care, while she taped me into a nice, snug diaper. Nothing else mattered.

But first, I had to get through this act of helpless shame about my "condition".

"No... I haven't told him," I confessed. "It's kind of... embarrassing."

"Of course it is," she soothed, coming over beside me. "And it makes you feel pretty helpless and out of control, too. But you don't have to feel that way. Your doctor can give you lots of options to help control it. It doesn't have to be something to just feel depressed about."

She opened a drawer and took out a plastic bedpan.

I saw this and thought, Yeah, there it is-- game over. No diaper scene with this gorgeous babe for you, dude. Nice try, though.

"Now stay right there, and I'll get you cleaned up," Cherie told me, and took the bedpan into the bathroom. I heard running water. Then she went out to the hall for a minute, and returned with a folded blue rectangle. She smiled over at me and returned into the bathroom.

For a moment, I stared over at the door where she'd been, beyond surprised.

Oh, my god! Cherie had gotten a diaper!

She was going to put me in it!!

I couldn't believe it was actually going to happen after all.

"Oh-kay," Cherie came out of the bathroom with the bedpan, the blue diaper, and some towels draped over her shoulder. She placed the bedpan on the bedside table-- it was full of soapy water, with a white hand towel floating in the suds-- and then she quickly unfolded the diaper.

To my sudden dissappointment, it wasn't a diaper after all. Instead, it turned out to be an 18-by-30 inch flat absorbent pad, plastic-backed, which she spread out on the bed.

"Come on... let me get you out of those wet pj's, and clean you up." Cherie smiled and came over to me.

Trying not to show my disappointment, I slowly stood up. She took me by the arm and helped me over to the bedside, behind the curtain. Then she pulled off my bottoms and tossed them back over by the chair. I wasn't wearing any underwear, but Cherie didn't seem to notice or care. "Ok, hon... now just lay down on that pad, and I'll get you cleaned up."

I sat down on the pad, and heard it crinkling just like the diaper I'd thought it was. For a moment more, I lingered on the letdown-- the crash of my expectations, the failure of my plan.

Then I heard Cherie wringing the handcloth out in the soapy water, and I snapped back to realize what she was about to do for me now, instead.

As soon as she touched my skin with the warm soapy handtowel, all previous disappointments were out the window. Cherie gently rubbed the soap around my lower belly, my hips. She worked smoothly, rinsing the towel and softly scrubbing at my skin. The sensation was exquisite, warm and soft and wet and delicious.

Then, suddenly, Cherie was gently soaping the inside of my thighs, and then my balls-- working so delicately, yet managing to leave no nook or cranny untouched. I'd never had a sponge bath like this before, and she definately knew her stuff. I just lay back with my eyes closed, swimming in the sensation of warmth, wetness, the softness of the soapy terrycloth towel, and her gentle but firm hand inside it, bathing me.

I opened my eyes for a moment, just to see her face along with all these wonderful sensations she was giving me-- and at that moment, as she turned her face to me with a smile, she let her hand slide the warm sudsy towel right onto my dick, stroking it gently.

That sweet, mischievously little smile.

I'd been slowly stirring down there, ever since she'd first started the sponge bath. Now, as Cherie gently caressed my dick while she looked down at me with that sweet/sexy smile, the slow stirring suddenly went to DefCon 5.

It was impossible for her not to notice my arousal; it happened fast. But Cherie didn't immediately stop her caresses; she actually started gently pulling the towel along my length, with a subtle but exquisite twist at the head. It was unbelievably erotic. I was soon hard as a rock, and couldn't help but release a little groan.

"Mm-hmm," Cherie said with a knowing smile. Then suddenly she let go of my dick, and nudged at my hip. "Ok, you... let me get your backside now."

"Oh my god...! Cherie..." I managed.

"Yeah yeah yeah," she dismissed my protestations. "Come on-- up and over."

Reluctantly, I rolled over onto my belly-- my engorged dick now grinding into the thin papery absorbent pad. It crinkled again, just like a diaper, and that didn't help my business to stand down at all. Neither did Cherie's gentle scrubbing on my butt, nor when she playfully revisited the back of my balls.

"Cherie--" I gasped; "the least I could do is take you out to dinner, after all this... oh my God, Cherie..."

She laughed, lightly. "Well now, that's a rather bold statement."

"Well, that suits--" I had to catch my breath as she lingered on a particularly wonderful nerve-ending-- "It suits how I'm feeling right about now."

"Uh-huh," she replied, sweetly. "Well, maybe if you play your cards right, we'll see."

"Cards," I started, and then she did something else that made me stop talking.

"Ok, you," she finally said. "Let's get you dried off, and into some dry clothes." She rubbed my butt dry with a bath towel, then prodded me over onto my back again and finished drying me.

I just lay there, drained. My brain was a scrambled mess, and my dick was still standing at half-mast. Cherie was still rubbing my tummy dry with the towel, and doing so afforded me another look down her blouse. Her efforts with the towel were making her breasts bounce joyfully inside her blouse, and I had enough time to stare at this that my dick started to stiffen again.

Oh dear God in heaven-- I needed to get the panties off this unbelievable babe. Every cell in my brain was screaming it. Who cares if she never puts me in diapers? I just want to re-write the Kama Sutra with this goddess!

Cherie noticed my newly-aroused state and gave me a little smile, and then got up off the bed. "Ok, hon, let's get you dressed," she retrieved my new pj bottoms from the nighttable. She shook them out, and started to hand them to me.

And then she paused.

"Well, wait a minute," she said.

I looked back at her. "What...?"

She moved closer to me, and sat on the edge of the bed. The perfume of her baby powder now mingled with the fresh scent of the soap she'd just bathed me with. She touched my arm.

"Before you get dressed," she said to me in a soft voice, "I can get you a diaper to wear to bed. If you want one."

Just like that.

Suddenly, everything reappeared-- right out of the blue.

"It's no trouble at all... They're there, if you want them." She looked into my face, with that comforting, encouraging little smile.

I looked back at her, right on the cusp of having it all, everything I'd wished for... and found myself stupidly afraid to say the wrong thing and blow it. The moment was too huge, I was choking-- Cherie, sitting right here beside me, looking so beautiful and unbelieveably hot, now softly encouraging me that if I wanted to wear a diaper, she would be happy to go get me one. It couldn't believe it was this real, and this simple.

"It's up to you, Mark," Cherie whispered to me... and lay her hand on mine. "I'll be happy to do that for you, if you want. Just let me know."

Then, after a moment of silence, she started to get up.

"Ok," I almost choked.

She smiled, and nodded. "Ok," she said gently. "Let me go get one for you. I'll be right back," she assured me, and walked past the curtain, out of the room.

This was turning out to be one of the most amazingly better-than-possible things that had ever happened to me.

It was also happening way too fast, too unpredictably, too perfectly-- I couldn't get a handle on the way things were unfolding in this fantastic situation now. It was like I kicked a pebble down a hillside and suddenly found myself surfing an avalanche, out of control. All I could do was hang on, not fall down, and see where it took me!

I heard Cherie come back into the room, and she stepped back through the curtain. "Ok, hon... here you go," she said with a smile. In her hand was a blue disposable diaper. She moved over to the bedside table and opened up the same drawer she'd gotten the bedpan from earlier. This time, she produced a small bottle of Johnson & Johnson's baby powder.

With that, Cherie quickly unfolded the disposable diaper and pulled it flat. She kneeled one leg on the side of the bed; "Ok, lift up," she said, and then she slid the diaper under my butt, smoothing the wings out onto the bed at my sides.

I was dizzy with disbelief and joy. Speechless.

It was actually happening.

Cherie grabbed the baby powder, spun the top open, and proceeded to shower me with a thick cloud of the wonderful-smelling stuff. After my diaper area was totally covered, she began to smooth it with gentle strokes of her hand.

The silky smoothness and heavenly scent of the baby powder, and the gentle touch of Cherie's hand as she rubbed it into my diaper area, began to arouse me yet again. My poor teased dick had gotten more false alarms in the last 15 minutes than in any time I could remember. Just the sight of Cherie's soft profile-- her long dark eyelashes, button nose and full red lips-- would have been alone enough to whip my desire into a frenzy.

She seemed to be in no hurry at all, almost as if she was enjoying the pleasure she was giving me and was drawing it out; that soft smile was still on her face, and as she gently worked the baby powder, I could hear her quietly humming to herself.

Finally she sat up, and clapped the powder off her hands. She turned that quiet smile to me.

"Don't worry, hon," she whispered. "I'm going to put this diaper on you, and then you won't have to worry about any more accidents." She gazed softly at me. "Can I do that for you?"

I was almost too choked up to answer her. "Y... yes, please," I whispered back.

She smiled sweetly, and then gently pulled the diaper up between my legs. I could feel the cool plastic backing brush past my inner thighs, crinkling deliciously. Then the thick soft diaper was hugging my crotch, and Cherie began taping the sides onto the shiny soft plastic front.

"It's going to be ok..." she cooed softly to me as she worked. "No more accidents to worry about. Just call me, and I'll be right here to take care of you. Don't worry."

Total, fantastic sensory overload.

The sounds, the smells, the touch, the gorgeous woman taking care of me--

It was just so perfect. Beyond anything I'd ever imagined.

I looked helplessly at Cherie. She was just so beautiful.

And she was diapering me.

I wanted to cry. In her arms. Without shame.

Nothing else in my life had been anything like this.

It was ecstasy.

And I cried.

"Hey... there, there," Cherie saw me as she finished taping the diaper, and brushed her thumb across my cheek. "It's not so bad, is it?"

I cried, blurry-eyed, overwhelmed. Through my tears, I saw her face and she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, and I wanted to keep her in my life forever. Nothing else could ever be as good as this.

"Cherie..." I blubbered.

The raven-haired beauty sat down next to me. "Talk to me, hon," Cherie encouraged me. "Tell me what's wrong."

I shook my head. "Nothing's wrong," I managed. "It's... good. It's beyond... good. Oh my God," I couldn't talk.

"Shhh," she whispered, gently brushing her hand against the side of my face. "It's ok, hon. I'm right here."

Finally one thought broke through, and I had to say it. "Thank you, Cherie," I whispered. "Thank you for being so kind, and... and doing this for me," I choked it out.

She smiled, and then gently pulled me close to her. "It's ok, baby... it's ok. I've got you," she cooed.

My face was pressed into her breasts, and they hugged my head as I breathed in her feminine scent of baby powder, skin lotion, and faint persperation. I was dizzy, overwhelmed, and crying helplessly. I just wanted to stay in her arms forever.

She held me there for a long time, gently rocking me, as I stuggled to contain the emotions overwhelming me. Every one of my senses was filled with indescribable, sublime sensations. I just lay there in her arms, unable to move, utterly helpless. She held me, slowly rocking me, and gently ran her hand through my hair.

Finally I tried to raise my head for a moment. "Cherie..."

"Shhh," she whispered. "I've got you... I'm right here."

I needed to say it. "You have no... no idea," and then I choked again. "This means so... much to me."

She gently pushed my head back to her breast. Continued rocking me.

"I think I do," she assured me.

Her words made it through the wild phantasmagoria of sensations in my brain, and I managed to catch her implied meaning. I looked up at her again. "...You do?"

"Mm-hmm," she said softly. "But don't you worry... I've got you now... just rest your head," she pushed me back down to her soft, sweet-smelling breasts. Running her hand through my hair, and rocking me.

Then she whispered: "I know baby wants me to put him in his diapers... It's ok." She gently kissed the top on my head.

Time stopped.

"I'll take care of you," she assured me. "Don't worry."

She held me close. I could hear her heartbeat... the rythym of all history, the first sound every baby hears, still in the womb. Cherie's heart softly thumped in my ear, steady and comforting.

"I've got you," she held me. "I'll be right here for my baby... just for you." She gently pressed my head closer against her, and I could feel her soft warm breast against my damp cheek. "I'll be here when ever you need me. ...Ok?"

I was simply overwhelmed with pillowing waves of heavenly ecstasy, relief, and gratitude. I didn't know what words to say. I could only drift helplessly in the feelings of total security, safety, and Cherie's soft promise to care for me.

It didn't translate to words, at all.

Cherie slowly let me go, and laid my head back to the pillow. "Now, it's time for you to get some sleep," she told me. Pulling the topsheet and blanket from beneath me, she gently tucked me in. "Here you go, honey," she smiled. "Are you comfortable?"

I nodded, still a little bleary-eyed. "Yes... thank you."

She placed a hand on my blanket. "Is your diaper comfortable?" she asked softly.

It was snug and warm. "Yes," I said. "It feels good."

"Ok," she replied. Then she leaned forward, and placed a little kiss on my forehead. "Off you go, then." She reached up and turned off the light over my headboard, and the room was cast back into semi-darkness. In that dim light, I saw her face turn to me... and my heart leapt again at her angelic beauty. She smiled, and touched my arm. "Call me if you need anything... ok?" she said. "I'll be right down the hall."

I nodded, feeling the crashing waves of emotion subsiding, leaving me feeling drained and sleepy. "I will," I said.

"I'll come to see you in the morning, and change your diaper for you... if you want," she said softly.

I looked at her, and managed a smile. "I would like that, Cherie."

She laughed softly. "Ok, then... I'll see you then. Get some sleep now, hon." She gave me a little wave, and moved past the curtain, out of the room.

Sleepily, I reached under the covers and touched the diaper Cherie had put on me, just to convince myself it was real. It was-- the soft plastic cover crinkled under my fingers, and I wriggled a little in its snug, comfy, warm embrace. Feeling utterly content, I rolled onto my side, looked out the window at the darkness and the distant twinkling lights, and soon fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

to be continued...

[Eagle0769]

wetvinyl,

I read your story 3 or 4 times. I loved it. If this really happened to you. You are one lucky guy. I dream about situations like this. Your writing is so good I thought I was the lucky guy. Nice job and great writing. BUT please don't make us wait like we wait for JBonn. lol

Baby Jay NY

[wetvinyl]

Thanks for the kind words, Eagle-- it means a lot. Yes this really did happen to me, and I still can't quite believe it. That experience was one of the most unexpected, amazing things to ever happen to me. Sorry for drawing the story out and putting so much attention on the non-diaper details, but I just want to write it all down because it's all still so fresh in my memory.

Yes, I'm still writing on it, and won't quit until it's done. (Like I said, eventually it's going to go fictional, and I hope I can come up with scenes as good as this non-fiction part would demand!)

Glad you're enjoying it....

wv

[onsie]

wetvinel, i'm enjoying both the style and subject. i hope the story remains believeable. thanks onesie

[Eagle0769]

Thanks for the kind words, Eagle-- it means a lot. Yes this really did happen to me, and I still can't quite believe it. That experience was one of the most unexpected, amazing things to ever happen to me. Sorry for drawing the story out and putting so much attention on the non-diaper details, but I just want to write it all down because it's all still so fresh in my memory.

Yes, I'm still writing on it, and won't quit until it's done. (Like I said, eventually it's going to go fictional, and I hope I can come up with scenes as good as this non-fiction part would demand!)

Glad you're enjoying it....

wv

You take your time. I can feel that this story will be worth it. Half of my stories on DialyDiaper are fantacy but this story wether real or not is just great reading.

BabyJayNy

[leafgoalie]

Wow, this is really your experience!!! Lucky guy!!!! Keep on writing, or a lot of here will be having heart attacks anticipating what happens next!

[wetvinyl]

Thanks for all your comments... this week I'm pretty busy at work and after, but I promise to keep writing and won't keep you in suspense.

BTW, a few times since I started posting this story, DD has seemed to be shut down-- I couldn't find it with Netscape (my usual browser), IE or Firefox, for a couple days straight. Obviously, it's come back up-- but in the meantime I've put a copy of this story at my website. At my home page, click "links" and you'll find it there. Right now it's not much further along than this DD copy, but in case DD seems to go down again, check back there...

thanks again

wv

[wetvinyl]

I woke up to the sounds of Mr Jenkins going code blue.

A shrill beeping brought me awake, and I thought What the hell is my alarm clock going off for? Then I realized where I was, and the sound of nurses already in the room, speaking rapidly on the other side of the curtain. Urgent voices, now a male voice, a doctor, calling vital signs. Orders for a crash cart-- various cc's of a med-- call the ICU-- the sound of many bodies now hurrying around. Something serious was happening with Mr Jenkins.

Within five minutes-- during which I overheard the familiar faint rising whine followed by the command "Clear!"-- they'd rushed Mr Jenkins' bed out of the room and down the hall. The following silence filled the room.

It was just after sunrise; my window faced west, and the treetops outside were just beginning to catch the sun. I yawned, and sat up in bed-- and instantly felt the diaper I was wearing; it shifted slightly, crinkling softly under my blankets. Instantly, I was wide awake.

The previous night's events rushed back to me, and I reached under the covers. My fingers touched the soft plastic of my diaper, and it was real once again: the sight of Cherie bending over me, that gorgeous, breath-taking face, as she'd gently powdered and diapered me. And then... and then holding me tight, and her wonderful, reassuring words to me. It all came back to me in a flash... and now here I was, the next morning, still in mild disbelief that it had all happened.

Was still happening. Cherie had promised to check on me in the morning; she was here till seven. I checked my cellphone clock, and it was quarter to six. Still more than hour left.

I kicked on the teevee and watched the morning news. Then at six, my breakfast tray showed up-- pancakes, oatmeal, a banana and orange juice. I waited until the candy-striper had left the room, and then I pulled back the covers, and sat on the side of my bed to eat, wearing nothing but my hospital gown and my diaper.

While eating, I looked down and checked out the hospital diaper for the first time. It was really a no-frills, low-cost thing-- blue with two white tapes on either side, and thicker plastic taping panels on the front wings. A thin yellow wetness indicator ran up the middle. And, now that I was observing it in a moment of less ecstatic amazement and a bit more objectivity, I saw it wasn't really all that thick; probably on a par with a regular Depends, if that. I noticed, after having spent the night in it, that some of the absorbant padding had fallen apart. And finally, it was actually kind of big on me; altho the taping panels were only on the front wings, Cherie had had to place the tapes far beyond them to the front of the diaper. As a result, after sleeping in the diaper, it now felt sort of thin and baggy, the tapes just barely hanging on... not the tight, thick security I felt with my Abenas at home.

Still, I wasn't complaining... at all! The image of Cherie taking care of me, holding me, comforting me... it was running on a vivid non-stop loop in my mind, my consciousness still trying to process the fantastic experience in all its detail.

I was almost done with my breakfast when I felt the familiar morning urge. I thought about it for a second... and then smiled.

Of course I wanted to.

"I'll come to see you in the morning, and change your diaper for you... if you want..."

Cherie's soft voice in my mind settled it for me. So, I grabbed the banana and peeled it, and took a bite while happily filling my diaper with the gushing flood of a good, warm morning pee.

I wasn't even half done when I felt the diaper saturating already. Oh no! I quickly controlled my bladder, stopping the flow, to give the diaper's gel some time to soak up the flood I'd already pumped into it. Man, this was definately not like my AbriForm X-Plus's at home, which could soak up three or four full-on floods with no problem. The thin hospital diaper already felt like a wet newspaper on my ass, and through the blue plastic I could see the padding falling apart in sodden clumps.

No way could this diaper take any more-- I ran my finger around the back of the legholes and could feel the wetness starting to leak. Forget it. I pushed my food tray aside and got to my feet, headed for the bathroom. Instantly, the too-big, saturated diaper started to slide down my hips, and I had just enough time to grab my hand onto the front. That kept it on me-- but as I started towards the bathroom again, one of the tapes finally gave up and popped loose. The diaper sagged to one side.

Then, just as I was passing by the empty side of the room where Mr Jenkins had been, Cherie appeared in the doorway.

She stopped short, momentarily surprised. Then she smiled; "Well good morning, Mark! Up and around already, I see."

I nodded-- "Yeah... I'm having kind of an... emergency," I explained hurriedly.

Her expression changed. "An emergency? What..." Then she noticed my grip on the soaked, drooping diaper. I felt a rivulet of pee run down the inside of my leg. Instantly her face showed comprehension. "Oh, my! Are you ok?" she asked in slight alarm.

I moved to the bathroom; "Yeah, I just need to get in there. This diaper couldn't take it." In front of the toilet, I let the drenched diaper fall down my legs, and it plopped onto the floor. I finished relieving myself, and then I flushed and picked the sodden diaper off the floor.

Cherie was standing in the door to the bathroom, sympathy on her face; "Oh, honey," she said with dismay. "I'm sorry... why didn't you ring for me?"

I tossed the diaper into the bathroom trash. "It just now happened," I replied, and then added, "I thought I could make it to the bathroom, but..." I trailed off, and turned to wash my hands.

"Oh, sweetie," she said with soft dismay. "I'm so sorry." She paused, and then told me: "I hate those diapers they use here... they're useless."

I soaped my hands, and turned to her. For the first time, I could see the fatigue on her face; after working a 16-hour shift, and 32 of the last 48 hours, soft lines of exhaustion were etched on her beautiful features.

I shrugged. "I tried to hold it." Turned back to the sink to rinse my hands. "I couldn't help it."

"It's ok, honey," she replied gently... and I felt her hand touch my back. "Get yourself cleaned up, and I'll check your bed."

After I came out of the bathroom, I saw that she'd left the room; I crawled back into bed. My sheets were still dry. Then I noticed that she'd left the blood-pressure cuff and other accoutrement by my bedside. Of course, that had been the reason she'd visited my room, to begin with-- to check my vitals, and hand out my morning meds. But now she'd left.

A few seconds later, I found out where she'd gone: She came back around the curtain with another diaper. Strike that-- as she came around to the side of my bed, I saw that she had gotten two diapers!

She noticed what I was looking at, and acknowledged it with a smile. "Mm-hmm," she said, and tossed them on the bed. "I can't take a chance on you wetting through these diapers again. You're a heavy wetter, hon," she told me. "So I'm going to have to double them." She unwound the blood-pressure cuff; "But first, let me get your numbers."

This time she took my pressure on my arm closer to her, so she didn't have to bend across me; no glorious cleaveage shot this morning. Also, the scent of her baby powder had long since dissipated. She wordlessly took my readings, and then wrapped everything back up and back onto her cart.

"You must be exhaused," I told her. "You've worked double shifts two nights in a row."

She nodded. "Yeah, it's hard," she agreed. "But I've had some work done on the house, so the money's nice."

"Yeah," I remembered her saying something about that, the night I'd come in. "But still..." I looked at her, and then wanted to say something else. "Cherie...?"

"Hmm?" she replied, looking for something in a drawer on her cart.

"I just..." I started, and then didn't know what else to say. "I just want to... thank you. Again."

She smiled without looking at me, coming up with what she'd been looking for: A small pair of sissors and a roll of clear tape. "Well, you're welcome," she said. "I'm here to take care of you... at least, for another hour or so." She looked at the clock; it was just after six.

I nodded; "Yeah, but I mean... what you've done for me... Last night was--"

"Shhh," she placed her finger softly on my mouth. "No talk about that now. I was there to help you, and I'm glad I could make you feel better," she said.

God, was that an understatement. "Better," I repeated, with a little laugh.

"Mm-hmm," she replied evenly. She unfolded one of the blue disposible diapers flat onto the bed, and used the sissors to cut small slashes in the shiny plastic backing. I watched with fascination as she prepared the double-diaper just as I had done to so many lame-ass Depends, so many times before. She finished by clipping the wings off the soaker diaper, and then unfolded the outer diaper, placing the soaker inside of it.

"Ok, let's get you into this nice new diaper," she told me. "Up you go."

I lifted my butt and Cherie slid it under. She shook more baby powder on my diaper area, and once again spread it gently with her hand. The wonderful scent hit my nostrils, and joined the sight of Cherie's sweetly beautiful face, and sure enough-- I began to respond, enthusiastically.

Cherie saw this and smiled. "Well, good morning," she said. She playfully ran her hand over me, just for a second or two-- and I actually pushed into her hand, involuntarily. Her touch was incredible, sorcery-- conjuring erotic waves that cascaded over every inch of my body. I'd never wanted to fuck a woman so badly as I wanted Cherie. As she stood there on the right side of my bed, gently touching me, my left arm was already moving to pull her atop me-- to straddle me, reach under her dress and rip her panties off, and plunge my teased raging dick into her tight warm glorious pussy, fucking her relentlessly as her heartbreakingly beautiful face tilted back, moaning in ecstasy--

"Uh-huh," Cherie said with that little smile. Her hand left me, and then pulled the diaper up between my legs; a moment later, my straining dick was smothered in the double diaper's thick softness. She pulled the back wings to the front, and then she cut the ends with the tapes off-- shortening the wings, and using the clear tape to fasten the diaper more snugly around me. Finally, she tucked some of the loose edges in around my legs.

"There-- that'll stay on now," she stood back.

I looked down at this, and then back at her. "But... what if I have to go... go poop?"

She shrugged. "Take it off," she told me, and placed the tape and the sissors on my bedside table. "I won't be back till midnight tonight... so another nurse will have to change you before then, anyway."

I thought about this. "Maybe I'll just take it off, anyway," I said. "I don't really need a diaper during the day."

Cherie looked at me... and then smiled knowingly. "You think so, hmm...?"

I looked back her-- and wondered what the hell I was saying to her. "Well, I mean," I backtracked. "I'm just saying."

"Yes?" she asked me. "Saying what? ...You don't want to wear a diaper, now?"

Oh God. "No, I'm just saying..." I lost my voice for a moment, and got it out. "I'm just saying that I don't really want anybody else to... to do that for me." I paused again. "Just... you, Cherie."

For the first time, I felt a little embarrassed.

Cherie softened. "Ohhh, honey," she cooed. "That's so sweet." She leaned closer and gave me a little, comforting hug.

I held her in my arms, enjoying the closeness of her. Still thinking about making love to her. Thinking about a lot of things.

But mostly thinking about how Cherie was the most fantasically, completely perfect woman I had ever met. It was a fact as simple and clear as knowing my own name. Nothing else had ever been, or was ever going to be, quite as exquisitely perfect as this experience-- and Cherie was the only woman I'd ever meet who could have made it happen for me. This was it; period.

"I've got you, honey," Cherie whispered. "Nobody else has to change your diapers, if you don't want them to. You just take the diapers off, if you want to. It's ok." She rocked me gently. "And then I'll be in tonight, and I'll be here to take care of you... ok?"

I nodded. "That's good... thank you, Cherie."

She leaned back and showed me a smile. "I'm going to bring you some better diapers, too," she told me.

I was surprised. "You are?"

"You bet," she nodded. "I have them at home. They'll fit you better, and they're more absorbent than these things." She patted my crinkly-plastic-covered butt.

I was momentarily confused. "But... you have diapers at your house--?"

"Yes I do. And I'm going to bring them in tonight, and put you in them, and you'll be a lot more comfortable. Now, shhh," she gently shushed me, and got up. "I've got to go finish up, and get home."

"Ok," I said, my mind in a whirl.

"I want you to have a good day... and I'll see you tonight," Cherie smiled, pushing her cart towards the curtain. "You still gonna be here?"

That playful question snapped my brain back into gear. "You bet," I replied. "If they try to discharge me, I'll... I dunno, fall down and break my neck, or something."

She laughed lightly. "Don't do that," she replied. "You'll land up in Orthopedics-- and I don't work that floor."

We shared a laugh, and she said "Take care, honey"-- and then she was gone.

to be continued...

[GuybrushT]

Lovely. Good dialogue, vivid detail [well, you were there, but still] It is compelling and very erotic even without smutty bits. Very good. Very good, sir.

Guybrush Threepwood

[leafgoalie]

Keep writing, we're waiting with anticipation! Great work!

[wetvinyl]

The rest of that Sunday was a long, restless wait. All day I lay around in bed and watched teevee, and occasionally got up to walk the halls. Nurses and an occasional doctor stopped by, to see how I was doing; I pulled on my pj bottoms to keep my diapers out of sight. Lunch came and went. Time crawled; the midnight hour, when Cherie would be back in, seemed to be in some distant future century.

I was watching a bad Schwartzenegger movie when Dory, a friend of mine, unexpectedly showed up; "Hey-- Mark?" she called from the door.

Suddenly I realized I was laying there in nothing but my hospital gown and my diaper. The double diaper Cherie had put me in was sort of hot and uncomfortable under my pj bottoms, and after the nurses and doctors had left, I'd taken the bottoms off again. Now my friend was coming into the room, her view only momentarily blocked by the curtain.

I thought about yelling "Wait a minute!" while I pulled my bottoms on again, but I instantly realized she would hear the loud crinkling of the diaper as I did so. So I did the only other thing I had time for-- I quickly pulled the covers over me. Then, a second later, Dory appeared around the curtain.

Whew! Way too close...

Despite the close call, it was nice to have a visitor stop by to visit, definately. After giving me a hug (which I carefully accepted-- hoping she couldn't hear the crinkly diaper, or worse, see it peeking from beneath my blanket as I hugged her), she sat down in the corner chair and we hung out for an hour or so, talking. I can't really remember what we talked about-- friends, jobs, gossip, politics... stuff. It wasn't important, other than it was good to have somebody to talk with. It took my mind off the time, crawling slowly past... and it also took my mind off the eventual, distant time I was waiting for: when Cherie would stroll back into my room, at midnight tonight. My bored, undistracted mind kept coming back to it over and over, and it was impossible to ignore by myself. So Dory's visit was more than a pleasant surprise; it was a respite from the restless, impatient little obsession rolling around in my head.

Having said that, while I was enjoying Dory's visit, I was also very aware of the thick diaper I was wearing under the blanket. While Dory was apparently unaware of that fact, I had to be very careful of moving around too much; she would certainly hear it crinkling, and it wouldn't take too much to figure out what the sound was.

Part of my thinking just said, So what? You're in the hospital-- and Dory isn't going to say anything about it, anyway... it's no big deal. But another part replied, Yeah, but she'll still know-- giving her the sudden realization that 'Oh my god-- Mark's wearing a diaper'. Even if she doesn't make a big deal of it-- which I know she wouldn't-- why clue her into it to begin with?

I was holding with that second line of reasoning, and trying to be quiet as I could. Still, after a half hour or so, my legs were getting stiff; I wanted to move around, but I didn't dare. Dory and I continued to chat away-- now laughing about the bad Schwartzenegger movie on the teevee. Despite my mild discomfort, it was going to be ok.

Then all of a sudden, I needed to pee. The need grew pretty quickly.

I couldn't move, couldn't shift to a more comfortable position where I could hold it. I couldn't do anything at all; Dory would hear my diaper for sure. I could only lay there-- acting like nothing was wrong. As a result, there was almost nothing I could do to hold the urge for very long.

After a couple minutes, I couldn't hold it anymore. My bladder was bursting. Dory, apparently, still had no clue what was going on; she was chattering away about some reality-teevee show she'd found herself watching the night before. Her words barely registered to me; I was at the breaking point.

I couldn't wait anymore. Slowly as I could, I began to fill my diaper with hot, pent-up pee.

I could feel it quickly soaking the front of the diaper and down between my legs with soft, wet warmth. Silently I tightened my muscles, stopping the flow for a moment. Even though Cherie had securely double-diapered me, I didn't dare to flood the diapers all at once. I could not chance another blow-out like that morning-- not with my friend Dory sitting right in front of me!

After I felt the diaper had soaked up the first release, I let go with more-- now feeling it soak all the way back to my butt. I peed as much as I dared, and held it back again. Now the diaper was soaked, and heavy with warm pee-- and I still wasn't done yet.

"I mean, what kind of people sign up for these damn shows?" Dory asked me, with a laugh. "Doesn't it make you wonder?"

I nodded, casually. "It's like the people who show up on Springer," I replied.

"Oh, well Springer-- Jesus," she waved with another laugh. "Those people have no lives at all. What a bunch of idiots!"

Slowly, I began letting the last of my pee into the drenched diaper. I could feel it swelling, snuggling me close, making me feel warm and wet inside its soft plastic embrace. Finally the stream began to slow, and stop; I forced a few more squirts into the sodden diaper... and then I was done.

I was swimming. I didn't dare move.

"Well, they make you feel good about your life," I suggested.

"Well, yeah," she agreed. "It'd be hard not to feel good about your life after seeing some of the freaks he has on there. My God." She laughed and shook her head. "Guys banging their cousins, wearing their mom's underwear... Jesus! I'll never forget, they had some guy and his girlfriend on once, and she was pissed off at him because he liked to dress up like a baby. Diapers and everything. Can you believe that?"

My only thought was, I can't believe she actually saw that Springer episode. What a small world.

"Yeah, I've heard of that," I replied. "It's called infantilism."

Dory looked at me with surprise. "Really?" she said. "There's actually a name for it?"

I nodded. "Sure," I said... and tried to think of an off-hand but accurate way to clue her in. "It's kind of like a fetish, like cross-dressing or something... but's it's all about trying to feel like a baby."

Dory had a mildly incredulous grin on her face. "You've actually heard of this?"

A delicate question to answer. "Do a Google search on 'adult diapers' sometime," I told her. "You'll get lots of hits about Depends and online pharmacies, normal stuff like that... but you'll also get dozens of hits on all these websites for adult babies, too. I was amazed," I understated massively.

"Websites," she repeated, still trying to wrap her brain around the idea.

"Sure," I nodded, and grinned. "Hey, the Web's got everything for everybody, babe."

Dory's grin turned curious. "And how exactly did you find out about this," she wanted to know.

"I was doing some research about disposible diapers in landfills," I shrugged.

She nodded, and then chuckled again. "Adult babies, huh," she said. "That's wild... never heard of that before. What's it called again-- infantilism?"

"Yeah."

A frown came to her face. "It doesn't have anything to do with real children, does it?"

I almost shouted HELL NO at the top of my lungs; reeled myself in. "No, it doesn't seem that way at all, from what I saw," I casually explained. "These people just want to be treated like babies, with an adult Mommy- or Daddy-figure. A real baby obviously couldn't do anything like that for them."

Dory nodded; "Huh," she thought about it. "And so... this Mommy or Daddy person actually treats them like a baby? Puts them in diapers and stuff?"

"Yeah, I guess so," I said with a safe tone of uncertainty.

"What happens if one of these adult babies can't find a Mommy, though?" Dory asked. "Do they just stop?"

Oh my no, I thought to myself. We just keep on keepin on, all by ourselves. And... we hope.

"I don't know," I said. "I guess it's like any other fetish-- they just get off on it by themselves, somehow." I shrugged again, and grinned. "But, I didn't really spend a lot of time reading all about it."

"Hey, that's more than I knew," Dory replied. "Wow... that's just wild." Then she chuckled: "Poor guy... he just wanted his girlfriend to change his diaper, and give him a bottle."

I laughed. "Yeah, well, it doesn't sound like she was too into that."

"No, not at all," Dory agreed. "She was like, 'What the fuck is wrong with you, you're a 27-year-old man, not a baby', and calling him an idiot and shit. She wasn't a happy camper at all."

Well, I'm sure he wasn't too happy either, I thought. But, still.. "Yet, there they both were-- whoring their dysfunction on Springer for the whole world to see," I said. "I'm not feeling too sympathetic for either of them... or really anybody on that attention-whore circus show."

"No kidding," Dory agreed. "That's what I was saying... where the hell do they find these people, with such low self-esteem that they'll willingly make such idiots out of themselves on teevee? Man... go away! I don't want to know your freaky goddam problem!"

And meanwhile, unbeknownst to her, I was laying there in a diaper that was heavily filled with my warm pee.

I was really glad she didn't know that. Dory was a great person, I'd known her for a long time, and she was always a lot of laughs... but I was glad she didn't know what was happening under my blanket... or that I was sort of enjoying it.

Friends don't blow friends' minds with Too Much Information.

Dory left about ten minutes later, and then I threw back my blanket to see how my diaper was holding up. I was surprised to see that it hadn't leaked; the thin yellow wetness indicator on the outer diaper was just barely starting to turn a dark blue, in some spots. The shiny plastic cover was noticeably straining over the swollen filling inside, but the clear tape Cherie had taped the sides on with was still firmly attached. I carefully got up out of bed, and the diapers didn't slip or sag at all; I ran my fingers around the leg holes, and felt only a slight dampness. Cherie had made sure that this diaper wasn't going anywhere, no matter how hard I peed into it!

Assured that the diaper wasn't going leak or fall apart on me, I gladly rolled back into bed. The warm coziness was comforting, and as I watched the movie on teevee, I eventually curled onto my side and fell asleep for a little nap. Things were good.

----------------

Now, if you're still with me by this point, Dear Reader, I understand that you may be a bit impatient with this story by now; impatient with its long stretches of non-diaper action-- and after my wildly-unprecedented adventures with Cherie the night before, these Sunday diaper scenes may seem rather low-key and perfunctory. I apologize for the lack of snappy action and torrid domination scenes... but I apologize only to a point.

Life can be stranger than fiction... but oftentimes, the strangeness is made more striking by its arising, as it always does, from the surrounding banality of the everyday. The two go hand in hand, complementing each other... and so here I was, wasting an entire weekend sitting in the hospital, mostly bored out of my mind, when these things happened-- the fulfilment of a lifelong fantasy so remotely possible I'd barely ever considered it.

I want to get this tale written down as it actually happened-- the experience itself, presented at face value. The only way I can truly give the tale all its giddy high points is by including the corresponding ennui and low points... one after another. So, if the telling of the tale seems to drag at times... well, then you can better understand where my head was at during that long restless Sunday, when I was just waiting for midnight to roll around. Such is life, Dear Reader.

And, just as in life, when a lull will always be followed by a resumption of events... so it was with the events of that Sunday. And with that, I'll move to the events of that night-- when Cherie returned to work, at midnight.

----------------

to be continued...

[onsie]

double coolies

[babybub]

Hey I love it. It would be a dream come true if this was to happen to me lol

Babybub

[babyjennie]

Dear Wetvinyl, what a lovely story! Beautifully written, and demonstrating a superb command of English. An absolute pleasure to read. Please keep 'em coming, you talented thing, you! hugs and kisses from Baby Jennie

[babyricky]

i am truly enjoying your story, when are we gonna see what happens next

[dldad]

It's been sometime since last I was able to spend sometime here and even longer since reading any stories. I found your story to be well written and a fine fantasy subject for the rest of us. Always better when the story is real. Have really enjoy reading it. Hope there is more and that you find the time and inclination to write other stories. Have fun.

[wetvinyl]

Thank you all for the kind words... Real life has been especially crazy for the past week-- new job, projects at home, getting car fixed.... tons of stuff; yikes! So I haven't really had a chance to write, and believe me I'm bummed-- I'm really getting into it. But I promise to find a break in my life real soon where I can just get it written down.... I'm glad you are enjoying it... I have a lot more to tell!

[wetvinyl]

Here's a little more, just to move things along somewhat... Cherie's full of surprises ;-)

-----------------

I'd awoken from my nap just before dinner arrived, at about six; after chowing down, I'd lounged and watched some more teevee. A few minutes later I had to pee again, so after checking my diaper to see how it was holding up, I gave it another soaking. When I was done, I felt it definately becoming saturated, and knew the diapers weren't going to last for very much longer before they started to leak. I decided to keep them on for a few more minutes-- I'd change after the candystriper came to get my meal tray.

She came about ten minutes later, and I was under my blanket when she left with my tray. As soon as she passed by the curtain, I tossed the blanket back again-- and then the evening nurse suddenly appeared at the foot of my bed.

There was no chance for me to get under the blanket; I was fully exposed.

She didn't say anything about my diaper; she'd just come in to take my vitals, and set up the blood pressure cuff. But it didn't take long for her to notice that I was really wet. When she was done, she said "I'll be right back with another diaper for you," and then rolled her cart out of my room. A minute later she returned with another diaper. "Can you put it on yourself, or do you want me to help you?" she asked.

The day nurse was an older woman, older than me, and I felt no desire to have her diaper me. The feeling just wasn't there, at all. Perhaps I might have considered it before last night... but the events with Cherie had instantly set my bar pretty high.

"No, I can put it on," I replied.

"Ok," she turned to leave; "just throw the old one in the trash, in the bathroom."

"Ok... thanks," I said, and then she was gone.

In my haste to get into the new diaper, I didn't do a very good job at taping it on; it was just simply too big for me, and Cherie hadn't left the clear tape she'd used to adjust the last one. After I got it on, I walked to the bathroom to toss the soaked diaper into the trash, feeling the new one shift around loosely on me. Its soft warmth and crinkly sound was certainly fun, but I certainly wasn't going take a chance on actually using this diaper-- I had a feeling it would leak almost immediately.

So it was this single, too-big diaper I was wearing when Cherie finally came in at midnight. I'd managed to fall into the teevee and was watching the after-RedSox-game wrapup program... when suddenly she was at the foot of my bed.

"Hi, honey," she greeted me softly. "How are you feeling?"

I saw her there, and felt my heart quicken. "I'm bored out of my mind," I replied, and smiled. "It's good to see you again, Cherie... I've been waiting all day."

"Aww, poor baby," she said, and wheeled her vitals-cart around to the side of my bed. "Well, I'm here now... let me just see how you're doing." She undid the blood-pressure cuff and wrapped it around my arm, and as she did so all her wonderful sights and smells returned to me-- baby powder, her snug blouse, glorious cleaveage, her long wavy hair brushing my shoulder.

"It's gotta be nice to come in for only one shift again," I said. "You must have been beat after last night."

"I was," she nodded. "But I didn't get to sleep till four this afternoon. My ex is taking the kids camping this week, and I was running around with them all day, shopping."

I was surprised. "Why didn't he do the shopping?"

She shook her head. "Yeah, right," she replied glumly.

Oh boy-- bad scene there. "Oh, Cherie," I felt bad for her.

"No, it's ok," she said. "It's nice that he's taking them. I just want to make sure they had clothes to wear and something to eat, that's all." She stripped the blood-pressure cuff of my arm, and popped a thermometer in my mouth.

I didn't think she was saying that her ex would actually have her kids naked and starving out in the woods, but it was apparent that she didn't entirely trust his judgement over her own. A strong mother's instinct.

Cherie took the thermometer and read it. "Good," she said, her normal cheery voice returning. "So... how are you feeling, hon? Everything ok?"

I nodded, and wondered how to turn the subject back around to the promise she had made to me last night. Despite the fantastical scene she had given me, and all the soothing confidences she had assured me with, she now seemed a little more reserved... and I wondered if it had been just a one-time-only thing-- or just a figment of my wild, over-stimulated imagination. Nothing she was saying or doing right now, tonight, gave any clue as to what she'd done for me last night.

"I'm ok, Cherie," I said; "just kind of tired of laying around in bed." I eyed her and added, "I'd rather be out having dinner with you."

She laughed lightly. "You would, huh?"

"Definately."

Cherie gave me that soft, mischevievous smile for a moment... and in that moment, I imagined seeing her giving me that smile for the rest of my life. I would get out of the hospital; we'd meet for dinner; and we'd hit it off; we'd continue dating for months and months... and I could see it, in my mind, as vivid as something already known: Cherie and I together, years from now, sharing our lives and times. All the real complications and improbabilities of the idea were swept aside. In that moment she looked at me, I could see that possibility... and I yearned for it. There was no way I could let this possibility slip into history, untested. I'd just met this woman two nights ago and didn't know a lot about her-- but of what I did know, nearly everything had exceeded any scale of perfection I could have ever imagined. This was once-in-a-lifetime stuff, here; it was impossible to not imagine a future with her in my life.

"I would like that a lot," I told her, honestly.

Cherie must have heard the tone in my voice, as she looked at me for just a moment longer. Then she ran her fingers through my hair: "You're just saying that because you had a tough night last night, and I took care of you," she replied. "It's ok."

"No," I shook my head. There was more to it than that... and she knew it. We both did. The uncertainty I'd felt just a few moments before was now shoved aside by her too-understated reply. There was no mistaking what she'd told me last night; her soft words still rang in my memory just as clearly as if she'd spoken them just now.

"I know baby wants me to put him in his diapers... It's ok," she'd said.

"I'll take care of you... I'll be right here for my baby. Just for you."

"Cherie," I looked at her, "You know it wasn't just because I was having a tough night. What you did for me..." I trailed off, not wanting to have to say the obvious out loud. "You know what that meant to me-- what you did for me. You know." I looked up at her, my heart pounding

She looked back at me. Then she smiled again and ran her fingers through my hair. "Yes I know, Mark," she replied. "I know that meant a lot to you." Then she leaned closer, her face inches from mine. Her gorgeous brown eyes holding my gaze.

"I was glad you wanted me to do that for you, too," she whispered.

I wasn't expecting that at all-- not in the least. I had to clamp down an instinctive "You were?..." But suddenly I was swimming in disbelief and amazement. Cherie was glad I'd wanted her to put a diaper on me?! Did that mean she--?

"I know what you want me to do for you," she continued. "And what you want me to do, is what I've wanted to do for a long long time."

Cherie gazed prettily down at me, still gently running her fingers through my hair. And then she pulled me close, holding me in her soft, warm, baby powder-scented embrace.

"Don't worry, baby," she breathed. "Mommy's right here."

Again, words fail. I couldn't speak, think, or even fully comprehend.

This beautiful, head-turning, heart-breakingly gorgeous woman-- Cherie-- wanted to be my Mommy?

It was too big to comprehend. Even the image of the future with her I'd had just a minute before, so vivid and real, was now completely wiped from my mind. All I was aware of was her soft, secure embrace-- her lovely scents tingling in my nose, her hair brushng my cheek, her breasts pushing firmly against my chest--

--and she wanted to be my Mommy.

"Ok, honey," she gently let me go. "I've got to get to work."

"Cherie," I held her arm. "Thank you...!"

She smiled, and replied, "No... thank you." Then she began to pull my blanket back; "Do you need to be changed...?" She saw my hastily-taped diaper and softly exclaimed, "Oh, my... who put this on you, like this?"

I shrugged. "I did."

"You did?" she said, and then laughed. "I'd think you'd know how to put a diaper on a little better than this," she looked at me with amusement.

I shook my head. "They're too big for me," I said.

Her look softened. "I know," she nodded. "It's ok... I know you did the best you could. Don't you worry," she held her hand against the side of my face. "You won't have to wear those crummy ole things any more. I've brought in some better diapers from home, just for you."

"You have?" I heard myself ask, even though the sound of her voice making me this very same promise the night before had been echoing in my head all day.

"Mm-hmm," she assured me. "But for now, let's get this one straightened out a little better, ok?" She gently undid the tapes, and pulled them a little tighter onto the shiny blue plastic of the diaper's front. "There you go, baby," she straightened up.

"Thank you, Mommy," the words rolled out of my mouth, easy as a breath.

She eyed me with her soft smile. "Ok, honey... I'll be back as soon as I can," she whispered. "I'll wake you if you're asleep, ok?"

I returned the smile. "Please do."

She leaned over me, and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. And then she was gone.

to be continued...