With A Little Help From My Friend (One Shot Short Story)

[TheUnknownAuthor]

So, this is possibly....probably, the last thing I'll be writing. Life has gotten to be a little too much to afford me free time and thought to be creative and I feel like it's probably a sign that I need to hang up my...laptop I guess. Anyway, should this be the last thing I contribute, I apologize it wasn't a better piece, but hopefully someone will enjoy it. Thank you to anyone and everyone that's read my work over the years, thank you to those that shared their like of my work and thank you for those that shared their dislike of my work, all feedback is useful if presented in a constructive way, it's just how you choose to interpret it that counts.

To anyone just starting out as a writer, keep trying. Even if something you write gets no feedback, write for yourself, if you have something interesting to say, your audience will find you. Don't be afraid to be weird and push concepts, if it's something that sparks creativity in you, it's great even if it's crap. You will write bad stories and people may tear them apart, though by and large people here are very helpful and encouraging, but for every bad story you write you have an opportunity to add to your writer's toolbox and become better than you were when you wrote that stinker.

I'm not a great writer and I've started more stories than I've finished in my time, but I've written a number of things that I'm very proud of and I'm happy that I pursued this path.

Goodbye and good luck, everyone. ❤️

 

With A Little Help From My Friend

By: The Unknown Author

 

Misty was a sweet girl, sweet enough to make every attempt to make a woman fifteen years her senior feel welcome at her new job, include her in conversations and the like. At almost forty, I’d all but given up trying to understand the younger generation, their way of speaking may as well have been a foreign language half the time, their struggles were ones that I’d long since overcome, and finding common ground was often an exercise in me feeling too old to live and them seeming like children to me, but, as I said, Misty was a sweet girl and I found myself looking forward to being around her.

 

“Yeah, my daughter loves it!” Gina, another early twenties member of the team said as I entered the break room.

 

Misty nodded, “It’s amazing!” she chirped happily.

 

I smiled at them both as I crossed the room to fill my coffee cup.

 

“Have you seen Greeny?” Misty asked.

 

I shook my head, “What’s that?” I asked, completely oblivious to what she was referring to.

 

“It’s this cartoon about a green cat named Greeny and her family.” Gina piped up, “My daughter loves it.” she repeated.

 

I looked at Misty, she was twenty three, chubby and short and had such a bubbly personality that I couldn’t help but smile whenever I saw her smile, and she was smiling the happiest smile I’d ever seen her have in my short time knowing her. “Isn’t your daughter like three?” I asked Gina.

 

The Latina mother nodded, “Almost four.” she said.

 

I filled my cup and went to the empty chair at the table and pulled it out, taking a sip of my coffee as I sat down, “So, it’s a baby show?” I asked.

 

Misty’s smile turned into what can only be described as a pout, her chubby cheeks flushing as she looked down at her hands in her lap, “It’s not only for babies.” she mumbled.

 

I felt immediate regret at my choice of words, “Hey,” I said, “I’m an old lady, what do I know?!” I joked, trying to bring Misty back to her usual happy self.

 

The blonde shrugged slightly but remained quiet.

 

I sighed softly, “Why don’t I watch it this weekend and give you a full report about it afterward?” I offered.

 

She looked up at me like I’d just unloaded a truck full of Christmas presents in front of her, “You could come to my place and watch it.” she offered.

 

A genuine invite to a personal get together was rare, to date all I’d gotten was offers to meet with groups of coworkers at a bar or restaurant after work, “Okay, should I bring anything?” I asked.

 

Misty shook her head vehemently, “Just yourself and an appetite!” she chirped excitedly.

 

The conversation moved on from there to actors and musicians I didn’t know and shows I hadn’t watched and I faded back into the scenery before ultimately leaving, wondering if going to Misty’s place was such a good idea after all.

 

**********

 

I’d ignored Misty’s declination and brought a small cake, thinking that dessert would be a fairly safe thing that no one could be upset if it appeared unexpectedly and parked beneath the metal canopy at the apartments Misty lived in. The weather had turned warmer but hadn’t gotten warm enough just yet, so I’d topped the light dress I’d worn with a light sweater, the cream of the sweater complimenting the purple of the dress. I armed my car’s alarm and followed the walkways and signs to a set of stairs and found the number she’d given me on the door behind the top of the stairs, tucked away in the corner.

 

“You came!” she practically squealed when she opened the door after I’d knocked on it, “And you brought cake!” she added, holding out her hands to receive the plastic container.

 

I handed the cake to her and crossed the threshold once she stepped aside and closed the door behind me.

 

“Take a seat anywhere you want, I’m just putting our snacks into the oven.” she said as she hurried to the kitchen and put the cake into the fridge.

 

I hadn’t had high hopes for the young girl being neat and tidy, and she certainly didn’t disappoint. The couch was a rumpled mess, the carpet had stains of various sizes and colors around the couch and near the kitchen and there were what can only be described as toys all over the floor and small table near the bar of the kitchen. Not wanting to be an overbearing nag, I moved to the bar and set my purse down as I sat on one of the bar stools.

“Sorry about the mess, I’m so tired after work that I didn’t have a chance to get around to cleaning up.” she apologized as she read the instructions on a box on the counter.

 

I shrugged despite her not looking at me, “I was your age once, I know how much of a bummer cleaning is when all you want to do is party.” I said with a warm smile.

She looked up from the box and returned my smile, “You’re way cooler than you should be.” she said.

 

I chuckled, “Thank you?” I said, turning it into a question.

 

Her cheeks flushed, “I mean, most people your age get all parental with people my age, and you don’t.” she explained.

 

“Not a parent.” I said, “Never married and never had kids.” I added.

 

She dumped the box of chicken nuggets onto a well used baking sheet and stuck it in the oven before setting a timer on her phone, “Did you ever want those things?” she asked.

 

I shook my head, “I always thought of myself as a free spirit.” I said, “I was happiest being able to go anywhere and do anything, or anyone.” I joked, delighting in her giggle and smile, “Being tied to a family like that wasn’t something that ever seemed right.” I added.

 

She nodded softly, “Drink?” she asked after a moment.

 

“Whatchya got?” I asked.

 

She went to the fridge and opened the fridge and freezer doors, “Milk, apple juice, cranberry juice, Vodka.” she recited.

 

I looked at my watch, “It’s a little early for the hard stuff, any water?” I asked.

 

She nodded and grabbed a bottle from the door and set it on the bar in front of me, “I’m glad you came over.” she said.

 

I smiled and sipped the water, “Are you?” I asked.

 

She nodded, “Gina never comes over because of her kid.” she said with a glumness in her tone.

 

I looked around, “With all the toys, she’d probably have a blast.” I teased.

 

Her cheeks pinked, “It’s not that bad, is it?” she asked, standing on her tiptoes to look beyond the bar to the living room.

 

“I guess you’re lucky I don’t have that mom energy, otherwise I’d have you pick up, young lady.” I joked before taking a sip of my water.

 

Her blush deepened, “I’m sorry.” she said quietly, avoiding my gaze.

 

I sighed softly, “Hey, it was just a joke, Misty, relax.” I said.

 

She hazarded a glance up to my eyes, “You’re not mad?” she asked.

 

“Because you didn’t clean up for my benefit?” I asked, “It’s your house, Misty, you can keep it however you like.” I said.

 

Her smile returned and she checked her phone, “Wanna watch a Greeny before the nugs are done?” she asked eagerly.

 

I smiled at her and nodded.

 

She scurried to the couch and flopped down, looking over at me expectantly before patting the cushion beside her.

 

I got up and joined her on the couch as she turned on the TV and navigated through the list of apps and streaming services, landing on one of the many geared toward preschoolers and toddlers. “Someone likes her cartoons.” I mused.

 

She giggled and nodded, “They’re such a simple thing but they make me happy.” she said with a playful shrug, “Same with the toys.” she added.

 

The show was indeed for babies, I learned that in about two and a half seconds of the nine minute runtime of the episode she chose, but my lack of interest in the program and her enthrallment with it allowed me to watch her without her noticing, and a funny thing happened as I watched her. When I met Misty I found her to be a sweet girl, as I said, but she didn’t seem like she belonged in an office, she was giggly and fun and silly and seemed more like an escapee from the office daycare center than a worker, minus her adult proportions. Watching her watching the cartoon allowed me to see much more of that, her eyes transfixed on the colorful images, rarely blinking as she giggled at the jokes and antics of the characters. I felt less like I’d come over to hang out with a coworker and more like a babysitter waiting for my charge’s parents to return, but not at all in a bad way.

 

“Wasn’t that silly?!” she chirped, looking at me eagerly for a response.

 

I looked into her eyes and knew that, at least some part of me, loved this girl, or was at least fascinated by her in a way that wasn’t strictly friendly. I nodded and reached up and stroked her hair, “It was.” I said with a warm smile.

 

Her eyes scanned my own for a moment before she blushed and looked away, “Don’t look at me like that.” she said softly.

 

I pulled my hand down to my lap, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” I started to say before she interrupted.

 

“You can’t look at me like that because it makes me think things that aren’t true.” she said, looking up at me, her eyes as pink as her cheeks.

 

I stared, mouth agape, “What do you think isn’t true?” I asked.

 

She wiped her eyes, “That you like me.” she said softly.

 

My face softened, “But I do like you.” I said, hesitantly putting my hand on her shoulder.

 

She sniffled, “I mean like like me.” she clarified, sounding every bit as young as she’d seemed while watching her cartoon.

 

I swallowed, “What if I did?” I asked, my hand gently caressing her shoulder.

 

She looked at me again, her eyes searching mine, “Do you?” she asked.

 

Her vulnerability caught me off guard and I impulsively closed the distance between us and kissed her lips, keeping my urges as in control as possible and keeping my tongue in my own mouth, but I tasted her in that kiss, a sweet almost candy like flavor from her lip gloss, the faded mint of her toothpaste, the tart of the cranberry juice she’d drank, I kissed her and she kissed me back and when our eyes opened she giggled nervously.

 

“I liked that.” she said simply.

 

I smiled and stroked her chubby cheek as the timer on her phone went off signaling our nuggets were done cooking, “After lunch maybe we can see if there’s anything else you might like.” I said lustily, surprising myself at how aroused I was.

 

She nodded and scurried off to the kitchen to get our food, returning a short time later with two plates of nuggets and a bottle of ketchup under her arm.

 

I took my plate and the offered ketchup and sensibly squirted a little mound of the dipping sauce onto my plate before handing the bottle back to her, watching as she drowned her nuggets in the sauce, giggling and blushing when the bottle made gurgling fart sounds as she squeezed it.

 

Watching her eat reinforced my earlier feeling of babysitting, her fingers slathered with ketchup, little drips of it on her chin, the couch, her shirt, all while she regaled me with synopses of her favorite Greeny episodes of all time, giggling as she repeated the jokes and described the silliness.

 

“Such a messy eater.” I gently chided as she finished her last nugget.

 

She flushed, “I’m not great at multitasking.” she admitted.

 

I nodded and popped my last nugget into my mouth, feeling somehow superior to her with my cleanliness. I didn’t think I was superior to her, but there was something there that served as a divide between us, our age difference seemed to have grown for one, and something inside me felt compelled to explore that, to test it to find how great it had actually become. I took her plate and mine and headed to the kitchen, getting a paper towel and wetting it before returning to find her sucking ketchup from her fingers, “Here, let me help.” I said softly as I knelt down beside her and gently took her hand from her face to wipe it clean, performing the same task with her other hand and then her face, delighting in the blush her cheeks became painted with.

 

“Thank you.” she said quietly.

 

I gave her an affirmative nod before looking at the little red dots on her shirt, “Arms up.” I said as I reached for the bottom of her shirt and began lifting it, exposing the pale flesh of her chubby tummy.

 

She raised her arms slowly but complied nevertheless and in one quick motion her shirt was in my hands as she put her arms down slowly, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

 

“Where’s the bathroom?” I asked.

 

She turned and scooted off the couch and went around me and it to lead the way.

 

The bathroom was in worse shape than the living room, toothpaste in the sink, the tube open and leaking on the rim of the sink, bras hung on the shower bar, the bath mat and towels on the floor near the shower. The smell of urine hung on the air as we entered and I moved to the sink to soak her shirt, and another surge of that superiority washed over me, “Look at this place.” I chided, slightly less gently than I had with the living room, “Someone needs a lesson in cleaning if she wants me to come back in the future.” I said, not exactly warning or threatening but playing into the role I felt I’d been cast into for this particular afternoon.

 

She stood a few feet away, almost in the doorway to the bathroom, her hands clasped in front of her and her eyes cast down to the floor as she nodded her understanding.

 

I cleaned the sink enough to feel good about leaving her shirt to soak in it and turned my attention back to her, “Well, I think I’ve seen everything but the bedroom, so let’s go see how messy that is.” I said, smiling as she turned on a dime and hurried to the closed door behind her and hesitantly gripped the knob before opening the door and stepping aside for me to enter first.

 

The urine smell from the bathroom persisted, making my nose wrinkle involuntarily as I searched the wall with my hand for the light switch, the Greeny nightlight below giving off just enough light for me to know I was going to be chastising her once more. Clothes littered the carpet across the room and around the bed, the bedding twisted and wrinkled as though she’d tried and failed to wrap herself in all of it at once and just left it. Various beauty supplies sat haphazardly on the dresser, some still open from the last time she’d used them.

 

“I’m sorry.” she said in a quiet, defeated tone from the doorway, sensing my disappointment.

 

I turned and approached her, feeling our height difference as I lifted her chin and smiled down at her, the foot gap in our height seeming so much greater as she stood half dressed and ashamed before me, “Are you going to clean everything up for me and have it nice and tidy for next time?” I asked.

 

She looked up at me and nodded, “Yes, Ma’am.” she said.

 

A pleasant tingle ran up my spine when she addressed me as an authority figure and I kissed her lips once more before I stroked her cheek and nodded, “I’ll come over the same time next week.” I told her, “If you tidy up like a good girl, you’ll get a special treat.” I said, “But if you don’t tidy up…” I intentionally didn’t finish the statement, leaving her mind to fill in whatever blank she could come up with as I moved past her back to the living room and retrieved my purse.

 

“You’re leaving already?” she asked, her voice thin and on the verge of being whiny with disappointment.

 

I nodded, “You have a lot of work to do and I’d just distract you.” I said with a knowing smile, “Clean things up and maybe I’ll stay longer next time.” I said as I turned to the door, “Maybe I’ll even sleep over.” I added as I let myself out and headed back to my car, intoxicated by the rush of power our little interaction left me with and eager to return the following week.

 

**********

 

Misty gave no outward sign that anything had happened between us back at work, she was her usual self even when we were alone, and I started to worry that maybe I’d gone too far and she’d decided to cut her losses with me, but she never made an excuse to cancel our standing appointment, never told me not to show up, so I knocked on her door the following weekend with apprehension and uncertainty, half expecting her to be out and to go home disappointed.

 

When the door opened I was taken aback as she launched herself toward me and threw her arms around me, her cheek pressed against my breasts as she squeezed me.

 

“I’m so happy you came back!” she said.

 

I smiled and hugged her back, “Well, I wanted to see your handiwork.” I said, falling back into the role I’d assumed.

 

She let me go and hurried back inside, practically bouncing where she stood as she watched me cross the threshold.

 

The toys were gone, the carpet was clean, the couch was arranged neatly, the kitchen appeared to be devoid of dishes and I was genuinely impressed, “Well, someone was a busy bee, wasn’t she?” I asked as I set my purse down on the bar.

 

She nodded eagerly, “Yes, Ma’am.” she said politely.

 

I smiled at her, “And the bathroom?” I asked.

She hurried away toward the bathroom and I followed, delighting in the sight of her standing by the doorway waiting for me to inspect her work. The bathroom was immaculate, towels folded neatly, a clean smell filling my nostrils as I looked this way and that for signs of any of her previous infractions. “One more room.” I said.

 

She crossed the hall and opened her bedroom door and moved aside for me to enter, clean laundry was neatly folded and on the shelf in her closet, the bed was made and the floor was devoid of any kind of garments or items. I turned to her and beamed proudly at her, “Looks like you did a lovely job, sweetie!” I praised, advancing on her and kissing her softly.

 

She gave a little moan of pleasure as her tongue slipped into my mouth and darted back into hers as though she was afraid to show how eager she was for us to kiss more romantically.

 

I stroked her cheek and smiled at her, “I’m very proud of you, Misty.” I told her.

 

She blushed and beamed up at me proudly, “Thank you, Ma’am.” she said softly.

 

Another pleasant tingle ran up my spine, “So polite and formal.” I mused, “You make it sound like I’m in charge of you.” I said, exploring the situation.

 

She chewed her bottom lip, “You kinda are.” she admitted, “I mean, you told me to clean up and I did.” she said.

 

I nodded, “But why did you do what I told you to do?” I asked.

 

She looked away nervously, “Because I like you and want you to like me.” she managed to squeak out.

 

I reached down and took her hand in mine and started walking into the bedroom, leading her to the bed, “I’d like to show you how much I like you.” I told her as I stood before her and gently pushed her down to sit on the bed.

 

She watched with eager anticipation as I knelt down and untied her shoes and slipped them off, setting them aside neatly to maintain the integrity of the work she’d done for me, then I pulled her socks off and balled them up to sit them inside one of the shoes. “Arms up.” I commanded, smiling at her as she complied and allowed me to lift her shirt off which I folded neatly and set atop her shoes before I pushed her back gently and unbuttoned her jeans and shimmied them down her legs and off to fold them and place them on her shirt before I stood up and admired her.

 

Her pale skin practically glowed in contrast to her powder blue bra and cute little matching panties, her stomach rose and fell lightly but quickly as she breathed in anticipation, the rolls of her chubbiness begged to be kissed and caressed, and I smiled down at her where she lay on the bed and perched above her, her eyes darting back and forth as she scanned mine for any sign of what I may be thinking.

 

When I finally kissed her, her body shuddered beneath me as though she’d waited an eternity holding her breath for me to do so. Unlike our other kisses, this was the start of something different, something romantic, my tongue found hers and entwined with it, danced with it, beckoned it to join in a fusion of sorts and become one as I planned us to do.

 

She moaned softly and writhed beneath me, her hands at her sides twitching softly as she fought her urge to use them on me.

 

The feeling of power welled up inside me once more as I broke from our kiss and moved downward to kiss her neck and chest, “Should I take this off for you?” I asked, my finger hooking the center of her bra where the cups joined.

 

She nodded softly, her eyes heavy with lust as she bit her lip once more, “Yes please, Ma’am.” she said sweetly.

 

I backed up and pulled her to a seated position and unhooked her bra and pulled it away before I let her fall back down, her ample breast lolling to either side of her as the supple flesh spilled down like a pale waterfall. She was blushing again and I was recognizing that something far more potent than lust was forming in my heart, “You’re gorgeous.” I whispered.

 

She shut her eyes and shook her head, “Nu.” she said, mispronouncing her protestation, “I’m fat.” she added.

 

I smiled and leaned down to kiss her breasts, “Nothing wrong with fat.” I whispered, my tongue circling her areola as I held her breast in my hand and gently manipulated it.

 

She shuddered and let out a whimpering moan.

 

I kissed down her tummy, kissing across her rolls as I went until I reached her panties and found a dime sized damp patch waiting for me, the smell of her arousal pungent as I hovered above them, “Mm, someone’s very excited.” I mused.

 

She nodded vigorously, “Yes, Ma’am.” she admitted.

 

I took the waistband of her panties between my teeth and pulled them downward, delighted to see she was hairless, her womanly folds glistening for me. Making a show of it, I dragged the panties down with my teeth and tossed them aside with a flick of my head as I opened my mouth and returned to her eager lips, teasing them with my tongue as I took a taste of my prize.

 

She squeaked and moved to close her thighs reflexively but caught herself and parted them once more for me, “You did a very good job cleaning up for me, Misty.” I praised, my breath against her sex making her quiver and shudder.

 

“Thank you, Ma’am.” she whispered, “I wanted to be a good girl for you.” she added.

 

I shuddered as the last piece of the puzzle I’d been struggling to put together since the previous week fell into place with her words, I wasn’t superior to her, I was merely older and more mature, an adult to her little girl in need of guidance and instruction, I found myself drawn to the notion in the fog of arousal, “Were you afraid I’d spank you?” I asked, licking her lightly from bottom to top of her tender folds.

 

She squirmed and nodded, “Yes, Ma’am.” she shakily whispered.

 

I licked little circles around her firm little nub, “What else were you afraid I’d do?” I asked.

 

She bucked her hips beneath me and bit her lip to stifle a loud moan and shook her head, “Dun wanna say.” she weakly protested.

 

I lifted my head, “Should I stop then?” I asked, knowing that it was almost impossible for me to keep myself from continuing.

 

She whined, her breathing frantic in the face of losing her source of pleasure, “Bottom drawer.” she whimpered.

 

I furrowed my brow and looked behind me to the dresser and crawled back and off the bed to kneel down and open the drawer, moving the items inside around before looking up at her, her eyes shut tight as she lay still on the bed. I left the drawer open, giving it another look as I returned to her, a calm washing over me as everything made sense in my mind, “That doesn’t look like a punishment drawer.” I told her as I slid my hands beneath her ample behind and gripped her firmly, “That looks like a secret side of you that I’m dying to explore.” I added.

 

Her eyes opened and she looked down at me through her legs, her eyes scanning mine for signs of deceit, finding none, they began to glisten as tears welled up in her eyes.

 

“Shh, don’t cry, baby.” I whispered as I lowered my head and went to work making things all better for her.

 

*****One Month Later*****

 

Greeny played on the TV as I stirred the pot on the stove, Misty’s giggles lilting in from the living room after cartoon sound effects played. Turning off the burner, I lifted the pot and dished out a portion of the shells and cheese into a bowl and opened the drawer to pull out a dish towel and another for a spoon before I headed into the living room and took a seat on the couch, “Lunch time, baby.” I said, pausing the cartoon and getting settled.

 

She turned and beamed at me from her position on the floor and awkwardly got up, moving to all fours first and then raising her butt high in the air as she got to her feet and hurried to join me on the couch.

 

I tucked the dish towel into the collar of her shirt and leaned in to kiss her lips softly before I raised the bowl up and got a spoonful for her and guided it into her mouth.

 

“MMM!” she exclaimed as she ate the spoonful and eagerly opened her mouth for another.

 

“Mommy’s a pretty good cook, huh?” I asked.

 

She nodded vehemently, “Uh huh!” she chirped.

 

Spoon after spoon I fed her until the bowl was empty and wiped her cheesy lips with the dish towel before heading to the kitchen to rinse the dish and put the remaining shells and cheese into a container I put into the fridge, grabbing the second part of her lunch and putting it in the microwave, stealing a glance over the bar at her as I waited, admiring my handiwork of doing her blonde hair into pigtails with some ribbon I’d brought over. As the microwave beeped I heard her rustling her way to me and smiled as she hugged me from behind.

 

I patted her hand and stroked it softly, “Don’t think that being a little sweetheart is going to earn you more TV and playtime, baby.” I said, slipping from her grasp with ease and turning to face her, “You’ve got a date with a warm bottle of milk and a story before we get you settled in for a much needed nap.” I told her, taking her hand and leading her to the bedroom.

 

After our romantic encounter a month earlier, we lay together in the bed and she opened up to me completely about the contents of the bottom drawer of her dresser and I listened and held her and assured her that none of what she shared with me was wrong or bad and that I wasn’t disgusted by her and after thanking her for trusting me with her secret, I got up and got her dressed for bed and she fell asleep in my arms.

 

A month later and we’d fallen into a routine. I’d come over bright and early Saturday morning and kiss her grumpy face as she hid behind the door and let me in, I’d ask her how she’d slept as I felt her overnight diaper and led her to the bathroom to get her a nice bath before I dressed her for the day. We’d gone out together in that time, day trips mostly, the kind of thing that allowed her to feel a little less exposed with a diaper on under her clothes and no chance of anyone we knew seeing her, but we’d also spent a fair amount of time living a domestic fantasy, her playing on the floor watching cartoons while I busied myself with one thing or another, usually saving sex for right before bed.

 

I got settled on the bed, the crinkling of the waterproof sheet making me smile and her blush before she snuggled up beside me, head resting on my arm as she looked up at me and took the nipple of her bottle into her mouth and closed her eyes.

 

“Mommy’s got an extra special story for her baby today.” I told her. “Once upon a time, there was a beautiful woman that never wanted to be married or have babies.” I said.

 

Her eyes lazily opened as she nursed the bottle and then closed again a moment later.

 

“That was, until she met an adorable and beautiful little girl that made her realize she’d been so silly and foolish for wanting to spend her life alone.” I continued, “The little girl was a perfect baby but sized like a grownup, she had the most pinchable, kissable cheeks,” I raised her head and kissed and pinched her cheek, getting a wet giggle that sent dribbles of milk down her chin, “and precious rolls of baby fat that the woman loved to kiss and tickle,” I said, reaching down and lifting her shirt to expose her tummy so I could tickle it, producing another giggle and more milky dribbles, “and she even wore diapers and spent her days crawling and toddling around in them and doing all her potties in them like a good baby should.” I said, reaching down and caressing the swollen front of her soaked diaper, her hips pressing into my hand lightly and a disappointed whine coming between sucks when I pulled my hand away. “The woman fell in love with the little girl, both when she wasn’t a baby and when she was and found herself feeling an unfamiliar fullness in her heart that she realized was what she’d been missing all along.” I told her.

 

The bottle was nearly empty when she opened her eyes again and let me pull the nipple from her mouth, “I like that story a lot.” she said before a yawn overtook her.

 

I smiled at her and kissed her softly on the lips, “It’s my favorite story.” I whispered.

 

She sighed contentedly and hugged me, “I love you, Mommy.” she sleepily declared.

 

I hugged her back and rocked our bodies together, “I love you too, baby girl.” I told her.

 

I spent too long thinking that having a committed relationship and a little one dependent on me were a bad thing, or that they were separate beings, turns out, having both in one person was the key. Was I excited to change her messy diapers? No, but knowing that she’d made them as a demonstration of her trust in me made it easier to stomach. Was it hard knowing that our age difference meant we’d have far less time together than we would if I were her age? Absolutely, but if I were her age I wouldn’t be what she was looking for or needed in her life and she wouldn’t be those things for me.

 

After a dry diaper and some rocking and snuggling, she was out like a light in my arms and as I yawned and closed my eyes, I was happy that I’d had my outlook changed with a little help from my friend.

 

The End

 

[Baby Toni38]

Thank you for such an awesome story.   I am sadden that you have decided not to write any longer, you have a great talent.  It doesn't matter how many stories you finish it just matters that you enjoy it. 

Thanks again for sharing.