My Wifes Best Friend -- (Author) TheDideeboy

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Author: TheDideeboy
Timestamp: Nov 2, 2023 at 1:02 AM
Content: This is a true story—up to a certain point. Your task as the reader is to determine the very point where fact becomes fiction. I hope you enjoy!

~ My Wife's Best Friend ~
Amy came to live with my wife and me for three months. She was the mother of a wretched teenage son whom she had been struggling to wrangle in over the past couple of years. The weekend prior to her moving in, he’d threatened her with violence which was the last straw. She had to get away. I was completely amenable to opening our 3-bedroom house up to her as a refuge. I knew her very well over the years being that she’d joined us on a few weekends away to see bands play, we’d gone to clubs together, etc. Yes, it would be a bit of an adjustment having someone else knocking around the house, but she was a wonderful person whom I got along with well, and it made me feel good to be able to help her through a difficult time.

My wife and I had been together for over a decade and had an amazing relationship. We communicated well, rarely fought, and had an incredible, passion-filled sex life of which we decided at one point to take to the next level. After nearly two years of discussing it, we agreed to engage in the polyamourous lifestyle. She had a boyfriend on the side with whom she spent an occasional weekend. It was a bit awkward for me at first—knowing that she was spending time with another man—but I soon came to realize how happy it made her, which of course made me happy. I, however, didn’t have another companion on the side, but benefitted from the occasional make-out session at a club or online flirt here and there.

I was 45 and loving life: decent job, healthy and fit, and no kids! Most notably, I was able to indulge in my love for wearing diapers—whenever and wherever. My diaper interest was lifelong. The moment I was potty-trained I began longing for them—perhaps it was due in part to my continuous bedwetting that plagued me for years afterwards. Like most ABDLs, I did everything from creating makeshift diapers out of whatever soft, absorbent materials that I could find around the house, to taking diapers from others I knew. When I was old enough to drive I bought my first pack and continued my fun into and after college. My wife was accepting of it, but she had little interest. She would occasionally put one on me when requested, but mostly just fwapped my bulgy butt as I walked by, or would call me “Dideeboy” when she heard that unmistakable crinkle sound. As I got older, the bedwetting issue made an appearance every so often (almost like clockwork after a night out on the town if you know what I mean), so I had a constant supply conveniently stored in my bedroom, and wore them somewhat regularly at night.

Naturally this “hobby” of mine was the biggest concern for me with Amy moving in. Although she was open to the fetish lifestyle, she was completely unaware of my kink despite all the times I’d worn around her during our weekend adventures. That was all about to change.

~ ~ ~
Amy settled right in and made herself at home in no time. She was extremely courteous and very appreciative of us opening our home to her. I was also enthralled by the fact that I was living with two attractive women. Amy was a few years older than me, yet seemed to have decades-worth more of life experience. Being that she had a son, she naturally had that motherly vibe which made her even more attractive. Her dyed wine-colored hair fell past her shoulders, framing her round face of very pronounced cheekbones. Her thin lips were often accentuated with a red lipstick and her eyebrows were plucked and shaped to perfection. She was about 5 foot 6 with a curvy figure that gave her the ideal proportions—particularly two very generously-sized breasts that created a cleavage I’d drooled over for years every time we went all went out together. Despite my attraction to her, and the open relationship my wife and I maintained, Amy and I never shared more than a hug.

After a few weeks a routine was established. I would wake up, head to my workstation in the dining room table (yes…I was very fortunate to get to work from home!), my wife would head out to her office, and Amy would wake up a bit later, sit at the table with me, and eat breakfast while looking for jobs on her laptop. I was often very diligent about removing my diaper from the night first thing upon waking up, or at least before Amy was awake.

One morning I had overslept. Upon realizing I had a Zoom call within minutes of waking, I flew into the dining room to turn on my laptop and log in. Since Amy began cohabitating, I had invested in some thick, but quiet cloth-backed Seni Quattros that hid well under the various baggy pajama bottoms I owned. There were a few instances (especially on weekend mornings) when I’d leave my diaper on and fix breakfast or just ease into the day. I never worried much about her discovering my secret due to the discretion I maintained. However, this particular morning was the unintended perfect storm of conspicuousness. The only diaper I had in my possession that prior night was (albeit one of my favorites) a few plastic-backed Abena M4s, and the only pj bottoms at-hand were the tighter fitting pair that I’d mistakenly bought and only used as a spare if my others were dirty. In addition to these factors, I’d flooded my diaper during the night. In my panicked, groggy state, I flew out of bed, pulled the pjs over the bulging Abena which, now that it was so wet, was significantly louder than usual. As I entered the dining room and saw Amy already well awake and into her morning, I zipped past her and turned on my laptop while trying to do the “quiet walk” to prevent as much rustle as possible.

“Gooooooood moooorrrrning!” she happily sang as I awkwardly passed by her chair from the kitchen.

“Morning” I quickly replied with my heart pounding (not only because of the minimized crinkle sound emitting, but because the Zoom meeting had already started). “Ugh…I can’t believe I slept this late. My boss is going to be pissed at me. I’m supposed to be leading the meeting this morning.”

“Oh geeze. I’m sorry. Do you need me to go into the other room?”, she responded.

I barely even thought about her question. “No, you’re fine.”

I stood there watching my laptop take its time to boot up. I have a standing desk which is absolutely golden! During these panicking moments I looked down and noticed that unmistakable diaper bulge protruding in front of me. I pulled my t-shirt down as far as possible but it could only conceal so much. Amy was so engrossed in her laptop that she didn’t even look up at me when I’d entered. However, she was sitting diagonally across from where I stood, and my protuberance was directly at her eye-level. To make matters worse, the dining room chairs were getting reupholstered, and Amy’s bottom was occupying the only one in the house, so standing was my only option.

After several more anxiety-ridden moments, I successfully joined the Zoom meeting. My boss was clearly frazzled and shared her disappointment with me. I saw Amy look up upon hearing it and give me an “eeesh” look. The meeting proceeded.

A couple of minutes in, my boss asked me about a document that I was supposed to scan and send to her. I realized I’d totally spaced on it the afternoon prior.

“I need that ASAP!” she barked. “Could you please scan and email it to me immediately while were all on this call?”

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry!” I shakily responded. I grabbed the document from the folder on the table and darted away from the screen towards the office where the scanner is located. Of course this required shooting past Amy within inches. The urgency of the task at-hand and my stressed out state caused me to completely disregard the need for the “quiet walk” as I blasted past her.

WOOSH WOOSH WOOSH. It was so audible that the participants on the call likely heard it. I couldn’t worry about it. I was so incredibly desperate to get this done. I placed the document on the scanner in the office then flew back to my post. WOOSH WOOSH WOOSH. I saw Amy’s head rise up and follow me this time. I quickly clicked the scan button to the wireless printer, waited a moment, then attached and sent the PDF file to my boss.

A took a breath or two and finally calmed down a moment. But that calm didn’t last long. “DAVID!!! You scanned the wrong side!!! This is unacceptable. I need this NOW!” she blasted.

“Oh geeze I’m so sorry!!!” I hurried past Amy again, WOOSH WOOSH WOOSH and into the office to flip the page over and WOOSH WOOSH WOOSH to click, scan, and send. Yet again, her head rose and she gave me a quick glance as I rushed by—this time a bit longer and this time with an even more puzzled look. I was so frazzled—it just didn’t even sink in. In fact, by this time I was completely unaware of the rattling crinkle sound emanating with every step.

I went back to the Zoom meeting and wrapped it up in about 10 minutes. Upon leaving the meeting, I let out a long, frustrated exhale and stood there for a moment looking at my screen.

“I’ll bet you’re glad that’s over”, Amy said.

“Yeah tell me about it!” Then I realized I’d left what was a very important and sensitive document on the scanner. “Oh shoot!” and once again, WOOSH WOOSH WOOSH in a slight panic I flew past her. I grabbed the document and brought it back to the dining room—this time in a much calmer fashion and with the “quiet walk” in full effect. However, Amy’s curiosity had taken over her entire attention. As I cautiously walked in, her head was already up from her screen and locked onto me as I passed. Despite how careful I was, there was still a clear, undeniable sound escaping through the thin cotton of my pjs just inches from Amy’s ear. And then it happened . . .

“What is that sound I hear every time you walk by?” she questioned.

My heart began pumping out of my chest (yet again!). I tried to play dumb. The only response I could mutter was, “What sound?”

“You’re rustling each time you pass. Like a plastic sound. It almost sounds like you have a diaper on or something.”

I froze. My reaction must’ve been extremely obvious because she was staring at me. She slightly cocked her head then looked straight ahead at the unavoidable bulge just feet away from her eyes.

“Wait a minute.” Looks up at me, looks at the bulge again and points her finger directly at it. “You’re totally wearing a diaper aren’t you???” I muttered a random mix of “I”s and “uh”s which was all I could get out as I tried to think of a lie.

“How come you have a diaper on?” she asked...puzzled yet caringly.

There was absolutely no denying at this point. She was looking right into my eyes. Lying was simply not an option.

I looked down at the table, closed my eyes, and took a long deep shaky breath while I considered just how to word my response. I wasn’t about to exclaim, “I love wearing diapers!”. So instead told her just part of the truth.

“Ugh. I had a feeling you were going to find out at some point since we’re living in such close quarters.” I paused and looked at her. “Soooooooo…..I have a bit of a bedwetting issue.” She responded with a little reaction of sorrow by sticking out her bottom lip. “I mean…since I was a kid and even as a teen it’s come and gone. But the past couple of years it’s come back with a vengeance. For a while I remedied it with a mattress protector and a constant rotation of sheets. But one night while sleeping over at a friend’s and a good dose of partying, I flooded their futon. It was horrible.”

Amy gave me a look of worry by parting her lips and showing her teeth mashed together. “I know!” I continued. “It was then that realized I just had to suck it up and wear protection at night despite the embarrassment.” I continued to tell her that I’d actually worn them in her presence before: when we saw the band in Philly and also when we stayed at the AirBnB for the music fest in Brooklyn. An “aha moment” look spread across her face.

“Hey wait a minute. I remember in Brooklyn I was struggling to fall asleep and you came through the room at night to use the bathroom. I recall hearing that same swish swish sound as you walked through and wondered if you were carrying something.” She stopped and pondered for a moment. Yup…she was right. I clearly recall not being able to sleep that night and had to pee like mad, but didn’t want to use my diaper, so I snuck to the bathroom. It was so incredibly quiet there…there was no possible way to suppress the rustle.

I smiled at her, nodded my head, and we were both silent for a moment. Then she spoke.

“If it’s any consolation to you, you should not feel the slightest bit embarrassed. SO many people struggle with bedwetting issues. And even moreso with daytime incontinence. So you’re not alone whatsoever. David, you know me…I do not judge at all. And yes…your secret is most certainly safe with me.” She gave me the most motherly smile and my whole body relaxed.

“Thank you Amy.” I squeaked out with a suppressed glee.

“Of course” she responded. Then delved back to her laptop duties.

I stood there at my laptop, randomly clicking on various apps but not doing any work because my thoughts and feelings were overwhelming considering what just happened. “Wow!” I thought. “What an immense load off my shoulders.” It was true. I didn’t have to sneak around the house throughout the rest of the duration of her stay. I didn’t have to hide my diapers so carefully. I could dispose of them as I’d always done so. It was an incredible feeling!

I continued on with the rest of my workday and informed my wife later that night.

“Hmmmmm….yeah I had a feeling that was going to happen” she said. “You’re not the most detail-oriented guy, but you’ve done pretty well up until this point I’d have to say. I’m actually a bit relieved that she knows because there have been several times when I’ve had to tell a little lie here and there to cover for you.”

“I’m actually quite relieved too!” I said.

~ ~ ~
Aside from a couple of brief incidents, neither Amy nor I spoke about my diapers at all over the next two weeks. Admittedly I began to let my guard down now that I didn’t have to worry about concealing anything which resulted in a couple of encounters.

The first one was on the following Saturday. I was bustling around the kitchen in my pjs (and yes…another Abena beneath because 1: it’s my favorite brand and 2: I no longer had to worry about the incessant crinkle sound). While I was reaching up to the overhead cabinets to prevent a potential avalanche of containers from falling, Amy bopped out of her bedroom, looked at me across the hall on her way into the bathroom, pointed and blurted out, “Someone’s peeking out!” I looked down, and yup, sure enough, the wavy white, wrinkled plastic of an Abena M4 was clearly out there to greet the world. Of course my shock and pathetic attempt to pull up my pjs resulted in a mass ejection of plastic containers from the cupboard. But I stopped and smiled for a moment as she closed the bathroom door behind her, and realized how much it aroused me to be called out.

Another instance occurred when we were both working at the dining room table together in complete silence. I’d kept my diaper on that morning being that it was unused and a chilly winter day, so the cozy factor could not be avoided. The Abena was as sonorous as ever as I’d walked past Amy to refill my coffee mug.

“I hear crinkling” she muttered without ever looking up from her laptop.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” I jokingly responded. Admittedly a little tee hee! uttered in my head as I walked past her once again with a warm mug cradled in my hands.

~ ~ ~
About three weeks went by after my “coming out” to Amy. Friday night rolled around and she, my wife, and I decided to pick up some beers from the market down the street and veg out to some cheesy horror flicks for the night.

I bought a 6-pack of IPAs and combined them with multiple Bud Lights, so as you can imagine, by the end of the evening I was quite schnockered. I wound up conking out on the couch while Amy stumbled off to her room and my wife tidied up then fell asleep in our bed. I was awoken in the morning to the sound of my wife’s voice exclaiming, “What the fuck!?” There I lay in a cold, soaking wet puddle spread across two cushions of the leather couch. It. Was. Awful! Her outburst awoke Amy who came bounding out of her room to find out what the commotion was.

“David you totally pissed the couch. Jesus Christ! Why didn’t you put a fucking diaper on before you passed out?!” she blasted.

“I’m sorry I drank so much last night I barely remember closing my eyes.” I meekly responded.

“Goddammit!!” she retorted.

Amy stood there stunned, wanting to chime in somehow but didn’t know what to say.

“I’m getting up and going to take care of it right now” I responded despite the pounding headache.

My wife stomped out while Amy quietly retreated to her room. It sucked. I didn’t know where to begin to clean a pool of pee from leather. I did a quick search online and found some suggestions for supplies. I headed out and picked up some heavy-duty (and expensive) leather cleaners, came home and scrubbed away. Amy came in at one point while I was conducting my penance.

“I’m so sorry that happened” she consoled. “I saw you nodding off when I got up to go to bed. I totally should have reminded you to put on some protection for the night—or at least a pad of some sort underneath you.” Her concern was so genuine…it made me melt.

“Oh Amy, that’s not your responsibility whatsoever. Please don’t feel bad. It’s all on me. I’m usually really good with putting a diaper on before I start to really indulge in any libations to that extent. This was just a fluke.”

“Well,” she responded, “you now have me here to remind you.” She then winked, smiled, and headed out to run some errands for the day. Despite my unyielding hangover, I became so incredibly aroused, yet comforted. This was undoubtedly the foreshadowing of what was to come.

To be continued . . .

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Author: TheDideeboy
Timestamp: Nov 2, 2023 at 7:07 PM
Content:

TreeLad said:

I don't know, mixing IPA and bud sounds pretty fictitious to me

[End of quote]

Oh it happens!. Of course the IPAs are always first.

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Author: TheDideeboy
Timestamp: Nov 2, 2023 at 9:17 PM
Content:

MullbG said:

Me Likey!!! More!!!
True story up till "My wife and I had been together for over a decade and had an amazing relationship. We communicated well, rarely fought, and had an incredible, passion-filled sex life"

[End of quote]

. The truth ends well beyond that. And remember, this is only the first part. The fantasy may not kick in until later.......or did it already . Glad you dig it thus far!

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Author: TheDideeboy
Timestamp: Nov 2, 2023 at 9:19 PM
Content:

Forced said:

Nice start

[End of quote]

Thank you!

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Author: TheDideeboy
Timestamp: Nov 4, 2023 at 3:26 PM
Content:

GabyinPurple said:

But why did you stop just when you were getting started?

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GabyinPurple said:

But why did you stop just when you were getting started?

[End of quote]

I know I know! I so want to continue, but that took me nearly two hours to jot down. More is coming I assure you

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Author: TheDideeboy
Timestamp: Nov 4, 2023 at 3:27 PM
Content:

HugeBulge said:

This is the end of the true part. And now the fun starts. Awaiting pt2

[End of quote]

Oooooo possibly..... quite possibly!

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Author: TheDideeboy
Timestamp: Dec 5, 2023 at 1:52 PM
Content:

BostonBaby said:

Thinking that Amy's son is still back "at her house" -- so that's got to be resolved at some point too.

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Ah yes...well he's living there with her mother who lives in the apartment downstairs, but you're right...that should be clarified.

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Author: TheDideeboy
Timestamp: Jul 10, 2024 at 1:06 PM
Content:

denny said:

Gosh I wish someone knew my love for diapers!

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I've told several people (well girlfriends) and it's so wonderful to be able to talk to them about it and share