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Hi Everyone! In order to have more time to work on stories without it taking away from other things I need to do (stupid adulting!?), I've decided I have no choice but to move my writing to Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/alex_bridges.

It's only $3 a month, and that's less a Starbucks. Now, we all know what you're doing while you read this stuff ?, and isn't AN ENTIRE MONTH of that worth more than a coffee (if you don't think so, you're doing it wrong!?).

So as many do, I'll be posting new chapters here one week after they've posted on Patreon, beginning with Chapter 8.

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Prologue

 

 

It was bad enough I was in trouble again. Hearing her tell her friend all about it over the phone just made it so much more humiliating as I stood with my nose in the corner. Nothing I ever did could delay a punishment, but a call from Kiley apparently could. I could hear her fine as she talked in the hallway.

“Hey, Kiley! … O, nothing much. Just about to give that boy of mine a spanking … He just has an attitude today and took the wrong tone of voice with me; you know how he gets … He thinks he’s too old to be spanked, too, but you know how I feel about it: if he’s not too old to be in diapers, then he’s definitely not too old to go over my knee … Yeah, always over my knee … Because being spanked bent over is for big boys who wear big boy underwear … Haha, yeah, just like a little boy, but it’s like my mom used to say, a spanking doesn’t just stop for tears … Yeah, let’s do that this weekend … Anyway, I think I’ve kept him waiting long enough … Yeah, thanks … Bye bye.”

I swallowed hard, knowing she was on her way down the hall now. I wanted to start crying already, though that never seemed to elicit the sympathy I hoped for, and anyway, I wanted to at least seem grown up and not like a kid. Just because my wife treats me like one sometimes doesn’t mean I am one. How did this happen anyway?

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Yeah you are back. While I understand not keeping up that schedule it was awesome seeing a new chapter or two daily...but I do understand. Looking forward to more and hopefully soon!!

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Chapter 1: Kate

 

 

A lot had changed recently in our lives. At that point, we'd been together for 5 years and married for 3-and-a-half. I’d just gotten a promotion to Senior Vice President and with it a nice raise, and I told Jordan if he wanted to quit his job, he could. We’d talked about it for two years. He’d never been happy in any job he’d ever had. What he’d really wanted to do was write, and he’d kept it up as a hobby but never made enough to live on. We did the math every so often and couldn’t make it work. I didn’t love the idea of becoming the main provider – we’d shared that responsibility before – but he was just unhappy. More bad days than good. It was a strain on our marriage, and I just didn’t like seeing him the way he was on so many days, and worse on Sundays, that sad puppy look he wore starting around 3 and kept wearing until bedtime. So officially, Jordan became a freelance writer, supplementing my income with enough to pay for the little extras in life. And he was happier, almost instantly, and I was, too, because he was.

Jordy had been honest with me about his fetish after we started sleeping together, a story in itself. He was 27; I was 30. I was his first. It was our fourth date, and he’d been upfront about his inexperience dating when we went out of the first time.  On that fourth date, back at his place, we talked well past the point when any other guy would have at least tried to get to second base, but I had to be the one to initiate it. In retrospect, I know how hard it had been for him to even ask me into the house. I’ve never been positive, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t cum that night, but he definitely made me cum, twice. He dove in head first! Being in the driver’s seat tickled that dominant itch I’ve always had and sometimes acted on, and it made me like him even more.

A month later, we were lying in bed after, and I asked him his fantasies. It was really my way of bringing the conversation around to my fantasy. He demurred, so I offered to tell him mine. “Spanking,” I said. He blushed.

“Giving or receiving,” he asked.

“Giving.” To my shock, his response was to lay himself over my legs. I wasn’t even asking! But I didn’t want to turn down the offer and gave him some mostly playful smacks with a few stingers thrown in. When I was done, he laid there until I told him he could get up. He wasn’t the first partner I had spanked, but watching him get up on his knees and rub his butt, it was the first time I ever thought my spankee was adorable. The way he just put himself over my lap and laid there until I told him he could get up – ooh! I wanted to gobble him up.

“How was it,” I asked him.

“Okay,” he said without any enthusiasm. “Stings a little.” From then on spanking became an infrequent part of our sex life. I always wanted more, but I knew he only submitted to it to please me, so it was rare. I didn’t want to take advantage of his natural submissiveness; I may well have with another partner, but I was falling for Jordy. I wanted to keep him.

Once he’d rubbed the sting away, I brought us back to the original question. “So,” I said, “your turn. What’s your fantasy?”

“It’s kinda private.”

“Were sleeping together. How could it be more private than that?”

“It just is.”

“Oh, c’mon. I showed you mine.”

“Lots of people are into spanking. This is ... not so common.” Now I was intrigued. As a sometimes member of the local kink scene, I saw a lot of different fetishes, and while female-led relationships is where I spent most of my playtime, I knew people into impact play (lead pipe? Seriously? But to each their own), breath play, leather everything, wax, fire, needles (ever seen a woman laugh while her partner flicks the end of a needle he pushed all through her breast? Weird, beautiful, and kinda sexy), ponies, kitties, doggies, piggies. Seen a lot, heard about more.

“Please,” I said, taking his hands in mine. The way he wouldn’t look me in the eye, or even at my face, and turned so red was itself a turn on. I wasn’t sure how he’d respond when I said it, but I just had to. It just came out: “Do you need a real spanking? Because you’re this close to getting one, buster.” I made a mock-serious face to let him know I was joking. He didn’t seem to pick up on it.

Jordy sighed and said, “I have a diaper fetish.” I was vaguely aware of diaper fetishes, and I knew some people into ageplay and DDLG, but I didn’t know anyone into diapers, or at least I didn’t think I did. I honestly didn’t really get it.

“Oh,” I said, “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

“Do you ... do you think it’s gross?”

“No, Jordan,” I said, bringing my hand up to reassuringly stroke his beard, “I think whatever makes you happy is fine.”

“Promise?”

“Of course. C’mere,” I said, opening my arms for him. He hugged me, and we kissed, and eventually that led to round two of that evening. Come morning, he seemed to have a little spring in his step. Coming out to me was such a relief for him, it changed our relationship from casual-serious to serious.

I tried indulging Jordy in his diaper fetish, but it just wasn’t my thing. He sometimes wore around me, though I’m pretty sure all but a few times he thought I didn’t know what he had on under his pants. That was about the extent of my involvement in his diaper fetish except on those occasions when I’d play along, just like those rare occasions when he’d let me spank him.

So it stayed for years, until that one day after he started freelancing, he told me he wanted to talk. I thought a lot had changed already. I never imagined how much more would change.

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Author Alex, I adore BECAUSE YOU ASKED FOR IT. I love it is told by both husband (Jordy) and wife (Kate),

Of course I can hardly wait for many subsequent chapters.

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On 5/29/2019 at 11:27 PM, SGTbaby said:

Yeah you are back. While I understand not keeping up that schedule it was awesome seeing a new chapter or two daily...but I do understand. Looking forward to more and hopefully soon!!

Once again, you’re my first commenter. Does that mean we’re going steady now? ?

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Chapter 2: Jordan

 

 

I don’t think Kate understood how much diapers weren’t just sexual for me until after we were married. I think she wanted to ask for a while, but she didn’t work up the courage, probably for fear of upsetting me, until after a few months, when she finally asked why I was wearing a diaper under my clothes in the middle of the day. I didn’t understand the question at first - she’d known for almost two years about my fetish.

“I mean,” she said, “you’re just wearing it. You’re not, ya know, masturbating or anything.” I turned red – I hate it when I do that – a little bit because she said ‘masturbating’, but mostly because I didn’t think she could tell I was wearing. That was one of my go-to pairs of jeans, too, so I wondered how many other people had spotted me wearing over the years.

I wasn’t sure how to explain. “I ... they just make me feel good.”

“Like horny?”

“N-n-not just horny.” I hate it when I stammer, too.

“How then?”

“Um ... comfortable. Maybe, secure ... or safe.”

“Oh,” she said.

“Is that okay, me wearing whenever I want to?”

“Do you, um, use them?” That was how secretive I’d been about my wearing. She put me in diapers a handful of times since I first told her, but I hid the fact that I wet my diapers from her even after we moved in together. I suspect she knew, at least on some level, so maybe that day she was just confirming it.

“I, uh, pee in them, sometimes.” All the time, actually.

“Oh. Well, I’m okay with that. You don’t have to be embarrassed about it or hide it.” And then she left the room to go do laundry. It was that simple. I was glad she knew, but I still felt my wearing was private, and I didn’t ask her to be involved. It was really an almost non-existent part of our relationship. The only time it ever really came up was when I’d let her spank me - not my favorite thing, but she never got too rough with me - before sex; if we did that, she’d often diaper me afterward without me asking, but in total, I think she did that maybe 10 times going all the way back to when we started dating until I quit my job.

Once I quit and was working from home, I started wearing more and more. A lot of days, I’d diaper myself when I got out of the shower and would take it off just before she got home. I even got a trash can for the garage just for my diapers. I don’t know why exactly. It wasn’t that I was trying to hide it. Or maybe I was. Anyway, after six months, I finally decided to bring it up one night after sex.

“Honey,” I said. My head lying on her thigh, and I was looking away from her. I’d tried to have the conversation before, but I chickened out then. Whether it was the afterglow or the fact that I wasn’t looking at her, this time I was able to say it. “There’s something I want to ask you.”

“I think I know what it is,” Kate said.

“You do?”

“Yes, and I’ve told you. I’m very happy with our sex life. You’re much better at it then when we first started.” I was, and I guess am, insecure about that. I never knew quite how to feel about the fact that I could always bring her to climax with my tongue, but rarely with my dick. She couldn’t see my face, but she must’ve seen my ear turn crimson.

“I ... Okay.”

“That’s what you were gonna ask about, right?”

“ ... Yeah.”

“Fibber,” she said. “Sorry. Just tell me.”

“I, um ... it’s about my diapers.”

“Yeah?”

“Ya know I’ve been, uh, wearing them more often now.”

“I noticed,” she giggled.

“Well, I’ve, uh ... I want to wear them all the time.”

“Like 24/7?”

“Yes.” She didn’t say anything in response right away. The silence made me feel ashamed, and I regretted even bringing it up. Her hand stopped running through my hair, then she took it away entirely.

“Sit up,” she said. I felt like I was on the verge of tears, and I wondered if I had just screwed up our marriage somehow. I sat up but looked at the bedspread. “Can I ask some questions,” she asked. I nodded my head yes. “When you say 24/7, do you mean literally all the time?”

“Pre-pretty much, yeah.”

“So if we go to visit my parents?”

“Yeah.”

“Vacation?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, while I sat there growing more anxious.

“Would you, um, use the toilet at all?”

“Yes,” I said, maybe a little too enthusiastically. “I never, you know, in my diapers. And I wouldn’t use one if I thought I was about to leak or something, or just when I don’t want to.”

“How much will it cost?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Can you guess, just for now?”

 I had put some thought into it, but I hadn’t put pencil to paper or anything. “$250 a month, give or take. Maybe a bit more at first ... I know that’s a lot.”

“We can afford it ... we may have to skip a few meals out each month ... can I think about it?”

“Sure, of course.”

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Hehehe love the way this is slowly increasing! I think it is awesome and will totally backfire given the title but I love watching this play out or thinking I know how it will play out. Can’t wait for the next part and some fun twists/turns! 

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Chapter 3. Kate

 

 

 

Jordan tends to think he’s much better at hiding things than he actually is. Of course I noticed he was wearing more often. The second trash can in the garage was thoughtful, but I knew what was in there. For one, wet diapers in the garage in summer time: dead giveaway. But I noticed he started wearing his larger shorts and pants more. He was always wearing an undershirt, even at home, tucked in. And we share a bank account, and it’s not like we’re buying any other medical supplies on a regular basis, so when I saw our statement every month, I knew he was spending more on diapers. So I wasn’t shocked when he said he wanted to wear 24/7. At that point, I think he was probably up to about 10/5 anyway. By the time I got home from work the next day, I was 95% okay with it. What took me a few more days was deciding if I wanted to ask for something in return. Several somethings, actually.

Marriage is about give and take, but it’s not about achieving complete parity. That’s not give and take so much as perpetually ensuring you’re getting your fair share. Regardless of his answer, I was going to say yes to his request.

“Jordy,” I said after dinner while we were sitting on the couch, “I’m ready to talk about you and your diapers.” Okay, I admit it, I phrased it that way because I like watching him turn red.

“Um, okay.” He really is adorable when he’s embarrassed. How some other woman didn’t snap him up long before I did ...

“I’m okay with it on one condition: it doesn’t change our lifestyle. Eating in more often is fine, but we’re still gonna go places, we’re still go go hiking, we’re still gonna travel, we’re still gonna see friends and family.”

“Okay. I’m fine with all that.”

“I wasn’t finished, sweetie. I don’t want to live like I have a big secret. I’m not gonna go around telling people, but I’m also not gonna go to silly lengths to hide it. If people find out, I’m telling them.”

“Will you ... tell them why?”

“We can say it’s a medical condition.”

“Like what?”

“You’re the expert. Pick a plausible one, and we’ll use that. DON’T pick something ridiculous that’s gonna be obvious is a lie. No one’s gonna believe you developed some neurological condition overnight.”

“You’ll tell anybody who finds out? Literally anybody?”

“Yes. And some people might have to know. Your doctor, for instance. And I think it would be a good idea if we told a few people proactively, just to get it out of the way.”

“Like who?”

“Kiley. My mom. My sisters. Ya know, people we see all the time. I think you should tell Mark, but he’s your friend, so up to you.”

“Do we have to tell my parents?” He was already speaking in terms of “do”, not “would.”

“Up to you, but since they live on the other side of the country I think we can wait on that.”

“Okay.”

“Is that an okay as in, you’re fine with all that and want to do this?”

“Yes.” He smiled so sheepishly.

“Do you know why I’m okay with this,” I asked him.

“Because it’ll make me happy?”

“Because it will make you happy.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, Jordan. Can we talk about some practical issues?”

“Sure.”

“I don’t It to smell like a nursery in here.”

“I ... I’ll do everything I can.”

“And I expect you to do everything you can to avoid leaking on things. I know that’s not 100% possible, but it needs to be minimal.” I knew it wasn’t 100% possible because I did the laundry, for one thing. Not always, but sometimes I’d find shorts or undies with a small, yellow stain near the edge.

“I’ll do my best,” he said.

“And this can’t be an on again/off again thing. Once we tell people, that’s kinda it, at least for long enough that if you change your mind it won’t be obvious we lied.”

“That makes total sense.”

“And hygiene.”

“I know; I definitely know. I’ll keep very clean.”

“You’d better.” Those were non-negotiable. The next part was just an ask, but one I had been wanting to ask since forever, and as long as he had opened up, I wanted to as well.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4. Jordan

 

 

I didn’t like the idea of telling people I was wearing diapers, but Katie had a point about telling the people we saw all the time, at least when they found out, if they found out. Her friend Kylie was in and out of our house so often she didn’t even wait for us to answer the door before coming in. We saw her Mom at least every other weekend and her sisters a lot, too. But I had no idea what she was going to ask for next.

“There’s something else I want to ask you,” she said, taking my hand. She always takes my hand when she wants to say something important. One of the things I liked about her when we first started dating was she was very handsy, whereas I often needed to consciously remember to hug a girl at the end of a date. I guess I was always just too shy, but Katie loves that about me.

“You can ask,” I said.

“You can wear 24/7 no matter your answer, really. I promise. I just ... as long as we’re being open, and things are changing a little more anyway, I want to ... ask if you’ll indulge in my fetish.”

“Spanking?”

“Sort of.” She said it like a question, and it was pretty rare for Katie to ever feel nervous like that around me. ‘I was ... You know I’ve always had a thing for dominance?”

“Yeah.” She even went to munches and play parties with Kiley sometimes. I was fine with it, so long as she stuck to domming only other women and never let the relationships get beyond play partners.

“Do you know what a female-led relationship is?”

“Yeah.” I didn’t go to events back then, and I wasn’t into BDSM, but it came up occasionally in the diaper forums.

“I want to try it,” she told me. At the time, I didn’t see the big deal. She was already the breadwinner, and I went along with pretty much everything she told me anyway because, frankly, she was pretty much always right. She’s always seemed to understand what will make me happier more than I have.

“What exactly would that entail,” I asked.

“I make the rules, and you follow them. If you break them, I’ll punish you.”

“With spankings?”

“Not only spankings. The punishment will fit the crime. And I’ll always be fair.” I knew she’d always be fair, and it’s not like I did stuff wrong all the time. I figured I’d hardly ever get in trouble with her, and never enough to earn any major punishment.

Still, I wanted to know what I was getting into. “What would the rules be?”

“I’ll come up with those later. You just need to follow them and do as you’re told.”

“Can we try it for six months?”

“Twelve,” she countered.

“Okay.”

“I need to know you’re not just saying that because you feel obligated since I agreed to the 24/7 or because you’re worried I’ll change my mind.”

“I’m not,” I promised. “I’m willing to try it.”

“Why?”

“Because ... you’re usually right about stuff anyway. And I love you. I want you to be happy, too.”

She smiled at me. I never could withstand her smile. She leaned over, and we kissed. When she broke away she said, “I love you, too.” She took a big breath and let it out, I think mostly in relief but also in happy anticipation. “First rule: 24/7 means 24/7. Go put a diaper on.”

“How can you always tell when I’m wearing or not?”

“I can’t always tell.”

“So you just guessed right now?”

“Your fly is open.”

Oops!

 

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Hahaha love the end of the 4th chapter...great little humor there! I think the next part will be great as well as it seems you really set yourself up nicely for wherever you plan to go!! 

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Chapter 5. Jordan

 

 

 

“Here’s the rules list,” Kate said as she sat down on the couch with me after she’d gotten home from work.

“You did that at work?”

“It was a slow day. Do you wanna go over the rules?”

“Yeah.” I was somewhat nervous. I don’t think I’d had a written list of rules since elementary school, and never at home. We were just expected to know what we should and shouldn’t do. “But what if disagree with some of them,” I asked.

“We can talk about them, and what I decide goes.”

“Okay,” I said, belatedly realizing she hadn’t asked me a question.

“So first, 24/7 means 24/7. You don’t have to use your diapers all the time, but you do have to wear them all the time. If we need to, we’ll come up with some exceptions, but otherwise, you’re in a diaper all day every day. Make sense?”

“Mhmm.”

“And you’re going to need to take care of yourself down there. You can figure out what that means, but you shouldn’t smell and you shouldn’t get rashes except very rarely.”

“Okay. I already have some ideas on that.”

“Such as?”

“Um, I think I need to keep myself manscaped, and I already got some rash cream and barrier cream.”

“Good.”

“Is there more?”

“Oh, lots more. Now that you’re home during the day, I want you to take on more of the housework. Not all of it, but things should be neat and tidy when I get home, which means the sink empty, the counters clean, the living room straightened - those kinds of things, generally keeping the house clean and most importantly cleaning up after yourself.”

That was fair. I made probably 60% of the mess in the house but only did 30% of the housework. “That’s fair,” I said.

“Good. I know you’re still working, and I respect that, but your schedule is a lot more flexible than mine, and you are here, so...”

“I understand. That’s fine, really.”

“We’re going to have a more active social life, by which I do me ‘we.’ We’re going out more. I’m tired of either sitting home or going places without you.”

“I always have to go?” I’m much more introverted than Katie, and I like staying home most of the time or going places with just her. I didn’t like going places with lots of people.

“Not always, but at least once a week we’re going somewhere either with someone or where there’ll be others, including munches.”

“Really?” I’d been to exactly one, spoken to the organizer only, and left.

“Yeah. It’s time. I want you to meet other people in the community. It’ll be good for you.”

“Okay.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Jordy.”

“I know.” I sighed and she paused to see if I’d say anything else, or perhaps to see if she needed to reassure me some more.

“And you’re going to start taking better care of yourself.” We’d talked about this before I brought up wanting to go 24/7. In the two months I’d been working from home, I’d put on five pounds. The fridge was always there, some days I didn’t even leave the house, and I was sedentary. “You’re going to be in bed by eleven on week nights and midnight on weekends unless I say otherwise, and you’re going to be out of bed no later than 7:30 weekdays and 8:30 on weekends. If we have some special occasion, we can let that slip, but just because you’re working from home doesn’t mean you should become a bed slug.”

She pinched my pajama pants in her fingers and said, “And you’re going to put on real clothes every day. You can change into lounge stuff at 6. And you’re responsible for all the laundry. Every third day, do a wash. Sheets and towels every Sunday.”

“Okay.”

“And I know you’re going to hate this, but I got us a gym membership and signed you up with a personal trainer twice a week.”

“I have to go to the gym in my diaper?”

She shrugged unapologetically and said, “People who really do need them go to the gym. You can figure something out.”

“But I only have to go twice a week?”

“You see a trainer twice a week. I want you to go three more times a week, or do something else athletic three more times a week. That’s five total. We can do it together. I’m going to get both of us a FitBit. Also, diet.”

“I’m not fat, though.”

“That’s not the only thing that matters to your health. I want you to go to the doctor for a physical next week and get bloodwork. You eat like a teenager.”

“It’s not that bad.” I knew it was that bad.

“Honey, yes, it is. I know it’s hard, but neither of us is getting younger. We’re going to eat fresh, healthy food, and one meal a week, we can indulge in something. We’re not going to keep junk in the house anymore. And you have to participate in this, so three weeknights each week, you’re cooking, and dinner is at seven.”

“Anything else,” I asked a little too impatiently. I did sound like a whiny teen, I’ll admit it.

“Yeah,” she said, her eyebrows peaking, “You’re gonna have a good attitude about this. No sulking, and no complaining. If you want to talk about something, we will, but maturely. That tone you just used is officially off limits.”

“Sorry.” It drove my mom nuts, too, back in the day.

“And to answer your next question, yes. The basics: lying, cheating on your diet and exercise, or any disobedience or bad attitude. Those are all off limits. Any other rules I decide to make up as we go gets added to the list, no debate. If I tell you do something, you do it. And if I decide you need a punishment, you get one, no questions asked, whenever I decide.” She sounded stern, and I could tell just saying it was revving her up a little. She gave me a look to let me know she meant it, and then her face softened, and she added, “You know I’ll be fair.”

“I know.”

“Do you want to hear about punishments?”

“Do I have to?” I’d rather not think about that, and besides, I’d just follow the rules. I was a grown up after all.

“No, we don’t have to.” We sat silently for a minute.

“Now what,” I asked.

“Now we just go about our lives. C’mon,” she said, taking my hand and pulling me up from the couch, “Go get dressed, and I’ll take us to dinner. One last splurge.” She sent me on my way with a loud swat on my diapered butt.

Not much changed in the first three days of me wearing 24/7. I was in diapers all day every day, though I still used the toilet for bowel movements, but every day was more or less the same as before. I kept my diapers private still, worked in my home office, and Kate went about her daily life. She never saw me without something on over my diapers, she was no more involved with my diapers than she had been before, but I did notice her looking at me more often, and I think knew why. I smiled more. I made more jokes. I didn’t toss and turn in my sleep as much. I felt happier, calmer. I think that made up for the diapers piling up in the trash bin.

I did feel a bit different than before, though. I had been someone who often wore diapers. Now, I always wore diapers. I wasn’t self-conscious about wearing around Kate, but I did feel self-conscious if I thought about her thinking about me wearing, wondering if at any given moment I was wet, and knowing whenever she wondered that, I most likely was. Still, if it bothered her, that didn’t last long, and in bed on the fourth night, Kate pulled me close and made herself the big spoon, and I couldn’t tell if it was on purpose or not, but she patted my butt just the once before we fell asleep.

 

____________________

PS, if you like this, you'll like these. Please do me a favor and leave a review if you do like them.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079P1B2BT

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07B4WRFM6

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