A new story that I thought up during lane swimming:
Every week when I go lane swimming at the nearby public pool, I run into them. An older couple—I’d guess they’re around 70. He wears glasses and looks like the absent-minded professor type, and she’s in a tight swimsuit, with makeup and a neat hairstyle that stays perfectly in place despite the swimming.
What stands out most—to me, at least—are her breasts. “This must be a G-cup or J-cup,” was the first thought that crossed my mind when I saw her parading elegantly through the pool. This was a woman who had taken very good care of herself for decades, and who, perhaps later on, had one or more cosmetic surgeons help her maintain her figure.
The couple always swims in the slow lane (anyone who swims laps regularly knows there are different lanes—you have lanes for show-offs and one for leisurely swimmers), and she goes a lot faster than he does. I’ve noticed that he always trails a bit behind her anyway. A “dom-sub” relationship, I thought right away. I swam behind her a few times, but I couldn’t quite keep up with her. Which earned me a sly, mocking smile over her shoulder.
On the way back home, I cycled past a package depot, where I’d had a few diapers, a pair of plastic panties, nylons, and a pacifier delivered. My wife was away for a few days; while I was alone and “at work,” I could indulge in my sissy baby fetish. Sucking on my pacifier, while rubbing my nylon-clad legs together and peeing all over my Cutie Plus U Sissy Baby diapers—ohhh, so blissful.
When I got to the package locker, I saw the woman from the couple—now wearing a leather dress that really showed off her curves—standing by a locker as well. As I nodded at her and looked for the code to open my locker, she pulled out a large box. It didn’t quite fit in the locker and was damaged. As she pulled it out, the box tore open and a large pack of Cutie Plus U diapers fell to the ground. I stared at it in surprise, while she calmly picked up the pack from the floor and glanced at me sideways with that mocking little smile.
I don’t know what came over me, but I said, “Hey, I have those too.” I took a pack out of my mailbox, opened it, and showed her the five loose diapers inside. “What else do you have there?” she asked, in a hoarse, slightly lisping voice that immediately gave me goosebumps. “A pacifier, nylons, and a pair of plastic panties, ma’am,” I said, deeply impressed by her phenomenal cleavage, which had suddenly come a lot closer. A car door opened, and her husband—wearing glasses and now dressed in a gray civil servant’s suit—shuffled over toward us. “He has them too, Frank,” she nodded. Frank looked over his glasses at my diapers and at the package his wife was holding. “Are you wearing diapers now?” he asked. I shook my head. “Then you’ll have to come with us for a bit,” she said. “I’m Ava. This is Frank. We live just around the corner.”
It turned out that Frank and Ava lived in a duplex apartment overlooking the river that separated the northern part of the city from downtown. We didn’t say a word in the elevator on the way up; once inside their apartment, Ava immediately took me by the arm as we entered and led me to a cute nursery where just about everything was pink, with a few yellow and blue accents here and there. It was as if all my fantasies about a sissy nursery had come to life here. A large, lockable crib; a sturdy changing table with drawers, one of which was open, revealing a row of white diapers. Two closets against the wall, apparently filled with dresses, skirts, hats, and aprons. There were toys on the floor, but when I looked closely, I saw that they were rather naughty toys: Barbies in lingerie, all kinds of penis-shaped toys, and stuffed animals with strap-on dildos. “Take it all off,” Ava sang.
Once I was naked in front of her, she clicked her tongue. “All that hair…” she said, shaking her head. “Frank, grab the razor and a towel.” I wanted to protest, but Ava had already slipped a large pacifier between my lips, which was secured behind my head with a strap. “Shh,” she said, “babies don’t talk anyway.”
When Frank came back, he was wearing a sexy maid’s uniform, with a short skirt, an apron, and a clear view of his garters and stockings. A white bonnet and a collar with “Fifi” written on it completed the outfit. Fifi laid a towel on the floor and shaved my pubic area and the hair on my stomach and thighs in just a few strokes. I didn’t know yet how I was going to explain this later, but it did feel very… exciting.
And that feeling didn’t go away when Ava put a diaper with a few liners on me, along with a pair of stockings, a garter belt, and a well-padded bra. “I always catch you peeking at me,” Ava said in a soft voice, giving me a generous view of her cleavage, “you do like a nice pair of tits, don’t you?” I felt my cheeks turn bright red.
A soft yellow, sheer babydoll was slipped over my head, and Ava also put a cute little bonnet on top. I looked at myself in the mirror, moaning softly; oh, how I’d longed for this. Behind me, I also saw the dynamic between Frank/Fifi and Ava shift. Whereas she’d been in charge the whole time, things now seemed different. Fifi whispered something in her ear, after which she bowed her head, turned around, and let the zipper of her leather dress be unzipped. First, her magnificent tits came into view, and then—not lace panties, but pink padded training pants. Fifi also slipped a pacifier between her lips, then sat down on the floor and picked up a sexy Barbie. She gestured for me to come sit with her.
When I took a step toward her, I heard an angry growl. “On your knees,” Fifi said with a threatening undertone, at which point I immediately dropped to my knees and crawled forward. “Babies are getting a drink now,” Fifi said, then left the room while Ava and I arranged the Barbies and stuffed animals in positions that wouldn’t look out of place in porn movies. Every now and then, Ava would touch the front of my diapers and shake her big tits provocatively.
Two big tits also caught Fifi’s eye when she returned. She had put on a pair of rubber breasts filled with white liquid. She grabbed a low stool, sat down and then Ava and I closed our lips around one of the rubber nipples on either side. Whoa, this was super exciting. I didn’t know where to look as I greedily sucked in the milk. “Next time we’ll put on a bib first,” Fifi said, patting me on the butt just a little too hard.
Ava was slurping even more greedily than I was; the milk was dripping over and between her breasts. “Shame on you, Ava!” Fifi said suddenly, very harshly. “Where are your manners?” With a jerk, the maid stood up, grabbed a wooden spoon that was lying nearby, turned Ava onto her stomach, and sat on her back. “This is what we do to girls who don’t know their manners,” Fifi said, then pulled Ava’s diaper down and slapped her fiery red bottom with the spoon.
After Ava had briefly recovered, the mood suddenly changed again. Ava stood up, grabbed a jar of white ointment, picked up a black lace thong with an open crotch, and put on a pair of high heels. “Get ready, Fifi,” she said, without looking at us, “and you, too. You’re going to rub this ointment on Mommy’s butt. No, no, not with your fingers. With your nose, sweetie. Just push your little nose in here, and then against this sensitive butt. Go ahead.”
All afternoon, Frank—in his role as Fifi and later in other roles—and Ava switched back and forth between dominant and submissive. I remained the sissy baby, who had to be cared for, diapered, teased, and, eventually, allowed to cum really hard in my diapers.
They told me they’d been playing out this dynamic together for years, and often brought in play partners for both their enjoyment. “But we never actually see anyone as sweet as you,” Frank said, stroking my hood. “We should do this more often.”
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