Authentically Amy

Amy poured herself another glass of wine and yawned. It may have been mid-afternoon, but it felt to her like mid-morning still. She had gotten home late and hadn't slept well. Amy didn't even bother getting dressed today. She was still in the same panties she wore last night -- she just threw on a short little robe to preserve some modesty.

She felt like she was at war with herself, and the alcohol wasn't taking the edge off. Last night -- right up until the point she had looked at her phone -- was one of the best nights of her life. She had gone the whole night enjoying herself, her body, and feeling comfortable in her own skin. Rachel and Adam made her feel loved and accepted. She could be herself.

Then she checked her phone and real life hit her like a truck. It felt like the clock struck midnight and Cinderella had to get back to the real world.

A real world where her husband was a selfish workaholic dick who didn't even bother checking on her when she was out for half the night. But she couldn't judge. She was having sex with other people. She didn't deserve to be angry with him. He deserved to be angry with her. It wasn't rational. She knew it wasn't rational.

But it was still infuriating.

It felt like more confirmation of what she already knew. She was just background noise in the background of James' life. A cute little pet that he liked to walk out the company Christmas party once a year.

When did it get this bad? He used to be so caring, so affectionate.

Amy took a swig from the wine glass and let the warmth radiate through her.

When she got home, James was sitting on the couch... exactly where she left him. TV still blaring. He was fast asleep. She knew he came to bed at some point. Amy had woken up a few times during the night and he'd been beside her. But when he came to bed was anyone's guess.

She knew that she didn't deserve to be mad at him.

But it still sucked.

She took a swig of wine. And another. She barely tasted it.

Her thoughts drifted back to Rachel and Adam. The way that their love and adoration had cradled her spirit and given her a new confidence and self-assurance that she had been missing for so long. And the sex... oh, the sex was amazing.

Amy put the wine glass down. She stood and stretched. She could feel that familiar tingle of desire in her pussy and wanted to indulge it. She walked to the window and closed the blinds, pulling the curtains for good measure. The house fell into darkness.

She stood up and stretched, and she could feel the familiar tingle of desire in her pussy. She walked over to the window and closed the blinds. She pulled the curtains, too, just for good measure.

She closed her eyes, reliving the sensation of their bodies against hers. The feeling of cuddling with them. Of wetting her diaper.

Amy slid her hand under her panties, running her fingers against her pussy. She shivered at her own touch. She was already wet. So fucking wet.

There was at least one thing from the other night that she could relive. She went downstairs and retrieved a thick diaper from the stash.

She returned to the couch and pulled off her robe and panties. As she ran the tape around her waist, she felt the tension melt from her body. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the TV. It was almost absurd, but she smiled anyway. She sat down on the couch and spread her legs. Her hand returned to her pussy.

As soon as her fingers brushed against her clit, Amy closed her eyes. She had a clear picture of Rachel's face in her mind's eye. She could see the softness of her lips. She imagined Rachel between her legs, tasting her. Kissing her.

She slid a finger inside herself and imagined that it was Rachel's tongue. She leaned her head back and moaned. Her finger curled and stroked her G-spot. Her mind wandered through a kaleidoscope of memories and sensations. She was wet and her finger glided easily. She added a second finger, pumping it in and out of her as her palm rubbed her clit.

Amy moaned. Her hips began bucking in rhythm with her fingers.

Her mind's eye shifted from memory to fantasy, as she pictured herself riding Adam's dick. Her pussy tightened with the thought.

Then she heard a creak. A floorboard.

Shit.

Amy's had immediately shot out of her diaper, like her pussy was a burning stove. It sounded like someone was walking around on the porch. Who could it be? James? Don't be stupid. No way it was James. He would just use the garage door.

Salesman? Mormons? Mormon salesmen?

Her heart pounded in her ears.

Amy listened intently. Nothing. No more footsteps. No knock on the door. No doorbell. Was it just her imagination? Was she getting paranoid?

Probably just a delivery. But she hadn't ordered anything. She got up and carefully tip-toed to the door. Half way across the room, she stopped. Shit. In her panic and alcohol-induced haze, she'd forgotten her robe.

Well, if anyone was at the door, they'd get an eyeful.

Amy got to the window and peered out. It didn't give a great view of the front porch, but it was usually good enough to tell if someone was outside or if a package had been delivered. She didn't see anything.

She had a moment of relief.

Amy went back to the couch, wondering whether that creak had just been in her head. She threw on the robe and pulled it tight. She told herself that it was nothing. Probably just the house settling or a pipe making a weird noise. Whether she believed it was another thing entirely.

She lay back on the couch and waited. Minutes ticked by. No more noises.

The more time passed, the better she felt. She was able to recline. Her ears were still searching for any noise out of the ordinary, but she felt like she could actually begin to relax. As more time passed without incident, she began to feel the pressure building in her bladder.

She had drunk a lot of wine for midafternoon, and she hadn't been to the bathroom in quite a while. She smiled to herself and let herself go.

Amy flooded her diaper. The urine was wicked away from her skin and the diaper grew full, heavy, and warm. She lay her head back and basked in the feeling. It was so gross, naughty, and weirdly relaxing.

She let her hand cup the outside of the diaper and shift the padding around.

And that's when there was a knock at the door.

Shit. Shit. Fuck.

Amy bolted upright and yanked the robe tight around her. Shit. She stood, her diaper sagging and hanging low on her hips. Another knock. Shit.

Who could it be?

Amy hustled back over to the door, as quietly as she could manage. Her heart was racing and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't slow her breathing down. She looked out the window again. There was definitely a man on the front porch. He knocked again.

SHIT!

Amy was about to turn and go back up the stairs to get dressed when the man leaned over and looked through the window. He locked eyes with Amy. SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!

It was Joe Thompson. The next door neighbor. He waived at her. No choice now. Amy forced her way to the door and pulled it open just enough to stick her head through. "Hey Joe, how are you?"

"Hey Amy, did I catch you at a bad time?"

"N...no. Not at all!"

Joe waited for half a beat, a little impatient, before asking. "So... can I come in?"

"Sure!" Amy said. A little too eagerly. She had no idea why she said that. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the desire not to seem suspicious. Maybe it was the thrill of potentially being caught.

Amy opened the door and let Joe inside. She adjusted the robe as Joe entered. He strolled in, and made his way over to the kitchen.

"I've been meaning to check up on you. The other night, I could have sworn I saw someone messing around with your front porch. I couldn't tell though. Did you have a break in?"

Amy's mind swam. Stupid alcohol. She couldn't think straight. "No..." she muttered. She played with the tie on her robe and triple checked to make sure it was secure.

"I didn't think so. It's real easy for anything to play tricks on these old eyes." Was he insinuating something? Had he actually seen her the other night? Was this his way of letting her know that he caught her? Amy couldn't think of how she might coax that information out of him. "Don't get old kid. Getting old sucks. Stay young as long as you can."

That definitely seemed like a hint that he could know about the diapers. Then again, she'd heard variations of that from older folks her entire life.

"I'll do my best."

Joe had launched into some anecdote about how bad his eyes were getting, but Amy struggled to pay attention. Her mind was fixated on the possibility being caught. Whether she had already been caught. The diaper that was crinkling between her legs. Her thoughts raced and her breathing was heavy. She felt overheated. Overwhelmed.

Joe's eyes locked on hers and his expression changed from friendly neighborly banter to concern. "You alright there?"

"Yea... uh... I..." It was at that moment that Amy heard the garage door open. Her heart leapt into her chest. OH FUCK. That had to be James. What was he doing home early?!

Amy's eyes were wide. She could tell by the look on Joe's face that she was very clearly panicking.

"Are you ok Amy? Is everything alright?"

"You need to leave. You need to leave right now."

"Ok...." Joe was clearly suspicious. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes. Please go."

Joe nodded reluctantly and hobbled to the front door. "No problem. But if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to reach out, okay?"

"Thanks Joe."

Amy's hands were instinctively covering her crotch. She felt naked. Exposed. She heard the door shut behind Joe. James would be in at any second. And she was wearing nothing but a wet diaper and a robe.

She tried slowing her mind and calming herself. Everything was alright. She could still hide the evidence. Amy rushed to the couch and grabbed her discarded panties, stuffing them into the robe's pocket. No time to worry about whether Joe had seen them too. She didn't have time to dispose of the diaper.

The car door slammed shut and James fumbled with the lock. Amy adjusted the waistband of the diaper -- which had slipped a little too low on her hips under the added weight.

The door opened and James strolled in. She felt like the kid caught with hands in the cookie jar. James didn't seem to notice anything amiss. He barely even glanced at her. He threw his coat over a nearby chair and hung his keys by the door. He looked relaxed. Even a bit happy.

When he had kicked off his shoes, he finally met her gaze. "Hey," was all he had to say.

"Hey," Amy replied. The awkwardness hung thick in the air. "What are oud doing home so early?"

"I wanted to surprise you. I didn't really get to see you at all last night or this morning. Did it work?"

Amy blushed and looked away. It was almost romantic. Definitely disarming. Where had this James been? "You definitely surprised me." She glanced back up at him, unsure of what to say next. She hoped that he was oblivious enough not to notice how nervous she was.

"Ya know... I felt bad about last night. I tried waiting up for you but I fell asleep. And I didn't want to wake you up this morning. How was your time out?"

Shame ripped straight through Amy.

All the time she spent fuming about how much he didn't care. All the guilt she felt for giving into her urges. And here she was, standing before him, wearing a piss-soaked diaper. Like a rebellious little shit. Her heart cracked under the emotional weight. She could feel a sob rising in her throat. But she swallowed it down.

"It was nice. Thank you for asking."

James could definitely tell something was up. He just couldn't tell what it was. She could read the concern on his face plain as day. He approached slowly, and kissed her forehead.

"You know I've kinda sucked as a husband recently. Work has just been so... crazy." His arms wrapped around her, and she tensed under his touch. The diaper felt heavy between her legs. She was just waiting for him to try to cup her butt and discover her secret. "How was your day?"

His hand found the small of her back. Amy suppressed the urge to shake. He was inches from her diaper. "It was good."

James pulled back and looked her up and down, his eyes landing on her cleavage. "You're not wearing anything under that robe, are you?"

Amy's heart skipped a beat. "No, I'm not." She lied. "I just didn't feel like getting dressed today." That part was true.

"Well in that case..." James said, his hand moved from her back to the front of her robe. His fingers toyed with the neckline, grazing her breasts and starting to pull the robe open. Amy grabbed his hands to stop him.

He looked confused, then a bit frustrated, and then tried to tug the robe open again. Amy resisted. Hard. "James..." she breathed.

James pulled back.

"I... I can't."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing... I... I just need to get ready. Then we can do whatever you want." The answer satisfied him. For a brief moment, he seemed a bit annoyed that he had been spontaneously sexy and cute, and she had refused his advances. Amy felt devastated.

This is what she had hoped for. For months. And she'd ruined the moment. He was pursuing her. He wanted her. And she had to be the one turning him down. Because she had been selfish. Because she had put on a diaper.

Amy threw her arms around him. Squeezed him tight. She needed to let him know this wasn't his fault. That she loved him.

She felt his arms pull her closer. His hands found her lower back. For just this one moment, Amy let herself give up caring whether he found out about her diaper. She clung to him, feeling guilty and ashamed. She knew she should tell him the truth -- but she couldn't. Maybe if his hands found them...

She stayed silent. But his hands stayed put. They never wandered. One part of her felt relief. Another part felt guilt. She would keep this secret a little longer.

She let him comfort her, even though she didn't deserve it.

After a few moments, Amy pulled away and wiped her eyes. "Alright. Let me go upstairs and get ready. I'll call for you."

James nodded. He looked confused, but was going along with it.

Amy headed upstairs. As she reached the top step, she felt her diaper shift between her legs. It was so full that it felt like it might fall off at any moment. She quickened her pace, eager to get to the bathroom and clean herself up.

She entered the bathroom and closed the door behind her, locking it. Relief washed over her, for the first time since Joe knocked on the door.

Amy leaned back against the wall and slid to the floor. She breathed like a weight had been lifted off her chest. That was close. Way too close.

Her diaper was getting cold and clammy. Disgust rose in her chest. How could she do this? What if James had seen her like this? What if Joe did? She had been horny and reckless.

She opened her robe and slowly peeled off the tapes, trying to muffle their tearing sound. As soon as it released, her diaper flopped forward to the floor. She could feel the cold clarity of reality slap her in the face. She risked throwing away her marriage for a piss-soaked rag strapped around her pussy.

How could she do this?

Never again. Never.

Amy balled up the diaper and glanced at the trash can. There was no way she could hide it in there. She pulled open the vanity instead, rearranging some of the cleaning supplies to hide the diaper. James didn't clean the bathroom, and she prayed he didn't start tonight.

Her butt was sticky on the floor. She stood and looked for something to clean herself with. She didn't have any wet wipes -- those were downstairs with her diaper stash. She ran some toilet paper under water. It wasn't effective, but it would have to do.

She pulled her robe together again, and threw her hair up in a messy bun. Amy couldn't even look at herself in the mirror.

Amy went back to the bedroom and pulled open her lingerie drawer. The first set she found was the emerald corset and thong that she had found when she first met Rachel. She sighed and pulled it on. It fit like a dream.

Amy descended the stairs and saw James before he saw her. It was in that moment that Amy realized that James had never seen her in this before. His eyes met hers, and then fell to take in her body. His eyes widened, and a smile spread across his face. "You look beautiful."

Amy blushed and coy smile graced her lips. "Thank you," she said softly.

James rose to great her, and gently took her by the hips. He walked around her, eyes never leaving her cleavage. He guided her to the couch, and they both sank into the cushions. Amy leaned into him, feeling safe and comforted.

"I'm sorry for earlier," James said. "I shouldn't have pushed you. I know you're not ready for that yet. I thought that, given how often you were asking..."

Amy looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears. "It's not your fault," she said. "It's mine..." her voice trailed off. She didn't know how to elaborate.

James nodded understandingly. "I get it. It's okay to be confused. But I want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what. We can take things as slow as you need. I love you, Amy."

Amy felt a surge of emotion at his words. She loved him too, so much. But she also felt guilty, knowing that she had been keeping secrets from him.

"I love you too," she said, her voice trembling. "I'm sorry I've been so distant lately."

James squeezed her hand. "Don't apologize. We all go through tough times. Just know that I'm here to support you, okay?"

Amy nodded, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. She leaned into James's embrace, letting herself be comforted by his presence.