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The time, six months ago. The scene, the local YMCA.

There I was, a 6 foot, 265 pound blob of 40 year old insecurity and bruised ego, struggling to keep up with the rest of the aerobics class. Sweat stung my eyes and pain radiated from my bad knee — neither sensation was particularly noticeable compared to the pounding of my heart and the gasping sounds of my labored breathing. Pride was the only thing which kept me on my feet and moving.

I could tell that the instructor was watching me, waiting for me to collapse — or perhaps trying to figure out what I was doing in her class. It wasn’t an advanced aerobics class, but it was more than what a beginner like me should have been in. I signed up knowing only that I needed some structured exercise — no one told me what I was getting into, or, more probably, I wasn’t paying attention. Now, I was too proud to admit that I was in a little over my head. Yes, the instructor, a rather nicely put together brunette who appeared to be about 19 or 20, was definitely looking at me.

Locking down my newly discovered determination (developed after months of intense therapy — more on that later if it becomes relevant), I compromised slightly by not doing quite as much as my classmates and eventually made it through the session without a myocardial infarction.

After we finished, the instructor, Lisa, walked right up to me as I was headed for the showers.

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She got out of her car and locked it before she shut the door. She took the stuff out of the trunk after opening it. Carrying a blanket and a good book with her as she stumbled through the dense woods. She finally reached a clearing and gasped at the sight. Acres of green tall grass lay before her. Smiling, she skipped to a spot she thought would be safe to settle down.

After laying the blanket down, she laid on her stomach and started to read the book. The sun shone on her, making her a little hot. She sat up and took her shirt off then laid it down beside her. She resumed her reading.

Deeply engrossed in her book, she didn’t see a shadow fall on her. She jumped when she felt a hand touch her shoulder, stifling a scream. She stared into the person’s face in bewilderment. She sat up and covered her chest, since she was clad in a sexy bra. The person moved and she saw his face. She sighed with relief as he spoke.

“Did I startle you? I’m sorry,” he said.

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We were in her van, parked at the top of the cliffs at Black’s Beach the first time I brought the subject up. I had always wanted to watch my wife fuck another guy while I was watching, but she didn’t want any part of of it. Maybe my girlfriend would be more receptive to the idea. Our affair was over a year old at the time and calming down some from the frenetic start we enjoyed. I asked if she had ever thought about making love to two guys at once and of course she had but had never had an opportunity to try. I told her that I could make it happen if she was interested.

From the way her kisses increased in intensity I felt I had my answer. The first questions were who, and how do I know he doesn’t have any diseases, good questions in this day and age. I told her I had a good friend at work that I’d known for many years, married and not active outside of his marriage but had been talking about how bored he was getting. Having made a couple of cruises with him and seeing him in the shower the added bonus was he happened to be hung like a horse. (almost). She asked if I had said anything to him and I said that I hadn’t but if she was interested I would drop a hint and see what his reaction would be. With her approval I did. His reaction was fairly predictable, at first he thought I was kidding but got very interested when I assured him it wasn’t a joke.

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A few years ago, I lived in a luxury apartment complex. Across the hall was a great guy by the name of John. John was a very well-liked guy around town, owned his own business, was attractive, dated several nights a week, and enjoyed most sports. We met while golfing at the complex’s course. He had a great knack for making everyone feel comfortable and ready for fun. A party seemed to follow him where ever he went. We became great, close friends–threw many parties for the complex between our suites, golfed, sailed and worked out together. We “doubled” often and Jon always had a great looking date. I noticed he never seem to click with anyone for any length of time, but there was never a lack of company for him. I liked him immensely. He was a wild little guy, about 5’6″ tall, but very well-built and confident. He was also a real practical joker and, if some stunt of his was too much for me, I’d fall back on my college football days and call him a fucking tackling dummy, and try to toss him down. It was never easy to get the best of little John physically.

On his thirtieth birthday, I had a surprise party for him. We threw it at my place, and I told all the guests to bring cheap halloween wigs and gag gifts. The one thing John was sensitive about was his thinning hair. You can imagine the laughs we all had watching him open the gifts and trying each one of them on. He got right into the spirit of things and even had us trying them on. But he promised me he’d get me when I least expected it.

Weeks later, I came home late from an exhausting day, fixed a sandwich and plopped into bed to tune out in front of the Television. Except for the light from the set, my room was dark. After an hour or so, I got pretty lonely and started feeling myself. I was getting aroused, so I rolled over and began grinding my hips into the mattress. The friction of the sheets as I rubbed my swollen cock head against them and the pressure of my hard-on against the mattress and my stomach felt fabulous. I was luxuriating in the ecstasy of bringing myself off.

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I thought I was a freak. You see, I am a girl and I like wearing diapers. When I say diapers I mean diapers and rubber pants. I was glad to learn that other people, especially women, wore diapers too.

It started when I was sixteen. I had a friend take me to get my drivers license. I was taking the written examination when I noticed the girl across the counter from me was dancing around. She was hopping from one foot to the other. I thought she was so nervous she would never pass the driving test even If she passed the written test. Just as I finished the written test I heard her sigh with relief and I thought she must have finished too. I soon found out what she had finished. She had just finished peeing.

She had been dancing around trying to hold it in but had finally let go. It was not obvious that was what had happened. But, as she came up to turn in her test I heard a woman say “You wet your diaper, didn’t you?” The girl said “Yes momma, I tried to hold it but couldn’t wait any longer.” I made it a point to look but could see no sign that she was wearing a diaper, let alone a wet one. Her mom must have noticed her dancing around and knew when the girl quit what had happened.

I was told it would be about an hour before I could take my driving test so I decided to use the ladies room while I waited. As I came out of the stall in the ladies room I saw the same girl. She was laying on the floor with her skirt around her waist. She was wearing a wet diaper which her mother was removing. I washed my hands real slow as I watched in the mirror over the sink. When the diaper was off her, her mother washed her up, put another diaper under her and pinned it in place. She handed the girl a pair of rubber pants. The girl stood up, pulled the rubber pants up, let her skirt down and they left the room. By the time I got out of the ladies room they were calling my name to take my driving test.

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