Charlotte’s fingers hovered over the screen, her breath shallow as she scrolled through another Tumblr blog, this one filled with images of women in thick, crinkly diapers, their expressions a mix of shame and bliss. Her thighs pressed together, a familiar ache building between her legs. She had seen these ads for months, lurking in the corners of her favorite sites, always dismissed with a quick click away. But tonight, something was different. The way the plastic gleamed, the way the models looked so helpless, it sent a jolt straight to her core.
She bit her lip, her other hand slipping beneath the waistband of her pajama pants. This is wrong, she thought, but her fingers didn’t stop. So wrong. And yet, the idea of it, the taboo, the naughtiness, only made her wetter. With a shuddering breath, she closed the tab and stood, her heart pounding as she walked to the drawer where she’d hidden her secret purchase. The package of diapers had arrived just that afternoon, tucked inside a plain brown box. She’d told herself it was just curiosity. Just a little experiment.
Now, as she unfolded the thick, plastic-backed diaper and sat on top of it, she knew she was lying.
The diaper crinkled loudly as she pulled it up her thighs, the tapes securing it snugly around her waist. The sensation was overwhelming foreign, yet right in a way she couldn’t explain. She shifted, listening to the rustle, feeling the bulk between her legs. Her face burned with shame, but her pussy was already damp, her clit throbbing with need.
Charlotte sank onto the couch, her legs spreading just enough to feel the pressure of the diaper against her aching sex. Just a little rub, she told herself. Just to see what it feels like. Her fingers pressed against the padding, circling slowly, and a moan slipped past her lips. The crinkle of plastic filled the room, the sound sending another wave of heat through her.
She was so focused on the sensation that she barely noticed the pressure building in her bladder, until it was too late. A gasp tore from her throat as the first spurt of warmth flooded the diaper, the absorbency swallowing the sound. The wetness spread, the padding clinging to her, and Charlotte’s hips jerked against her hand. Oh god. Oh god, I’m peeing myself. The thought should have horrified her. Instead, it sent her spiraling, her fingers rubbing faster, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
The diaper grew heavier, the wetness seeping through the layers, and Charlotte could feel herself getting dumber, her thoughts slowing, her worries dissolving into a haze of pleasure. She knew she should stop, knew this was too much, too filthy. But she couldn’t. She was too horny, too far gone, her body betraying her in the best possible way.
Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, her back arching as she came hard, her diaper flooding with another gush of warmth. She cried out, her fingers digging into the soggy padding as her vision whited out. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, each one leaving her more empty-headed, more little. By the time she collapsed back against the couch, panting and spent, her mind was blissfully blank.
Charlotte giggled, her cheeks flushed as she wiggled her hips, feeling the heavy, wet diaper squish between her thighs. All her big girl thoughts, the shame, the guilt, the voice that told her this was wrong, were gone. She was just a horny, dripping mess, her body humming with satisfaction.
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