After I got home, I stripped off my clothing and put it in the washer, then sat on the laundry room floor, legs split out like a toddler in a playpen. I marveled at the copious amounts of shit that was pushed out of the legholes of the diaper. I reached for my pacifier and put it in, and began to fidget around a bit, shifting from side to side, then rolling onto my stomach. Wallowing in this enormous mess, feeling my spike rub off through Randy’s hot mess and the saturated gel of the diaper, that sent me over the edge once again and I cried softly as the pleasure/pain washed over me once again.
When I woke up, an hour or so had passed, and it was with a heavy heart that I decided to clean myself up. It took about an hour to get all the shit off of me and clean the spot on my floor where I had humped the mess, and then I had to air out my car. Every inhalation was a memory, an amazing, hot memory of he filthiest night of my life to date.
The following day at work, Randy avoided eye contact. Just as I had feared, things were now a little weird. The whole day our conversations were clipped and short, focused only on work. This went on for several days. Each night we were set to go to the store after work he bailed, offering me one excuse after another. Though I was hurt by this distance between us, I gave him space and time to process things, but when he declined for a fourth night to go to the store with me, I decided to address the elephant in the room.
“Why not?” I asked.
He gave me a lame excuse that I really didn’t listen to, so once we wre alone I addressed the elephant in the room.
“Look, man, don’t push yourself away from me because of last night. You could have said no, or shit your pants, or ran back into the store. Why are you avoiding me, bud?”
“Things just seem different now, I don’t know.” He looked downward at his feet, shuffling lightly.
“They don’t have to be”, I replied, putting my hand on his shoulder. “I don’t have any expectations and I know you’re married and have a family to think of. Besides, it’s not like we had sex, dude”.
“Isn’t it, though? You like that kind of stuff”, he shot back.
“Yeah,” I said, “I won’t lie to you, I enjoyed it, but I think a part of you did as well, or else you wouldn’t have done it in the first place.”
He looked at me quietly and then, side to side.
“Okay, what I tell you here, stays here, got it?” I nodded. “A few years ago, when I was 21 and my younger brother was 18, I.. saw something.”
I thought about his brother Steven. He was a little shorter and much fatter than Randy. Whereas Randy carried a lot of muscle on his frame, Steven was a bit softer. Just as hot, though.
“He was living with our parents then but they were on vacation at the shore. I stopped by the house and I smelled shit, so I figured he was in the bathroom. I was gonna scare him, we’ve always done that to each other since we were kids. So I creep upstairs and I see that the bathroom door is open, but nobody is in there and I’d be able to see him if he were ’cause the bathroom is small. I hear noise coming from his bedroom, though, so I sneak down the hall and peek inside. I have a clear view of his bed from where I am. He was on his stomach facing away from me, he only had on socks and tightie-whities, and he was sort of humping the bed. I’ve seen him jerk off before, sometimes he does it that way. Then the smell hit me again and I looked back- his underwear was filled with shit. It was coming out of the legs and up over the top of the waistband, and was smeared all over his ass. I watched with my jaw on the floor as his legs stiffened every time he pushed forward. He began to pick up pace and started to whimper and cry out, and I knew he was cumming. I retreated quickly and left the house. He has no idea I saw that.”
“Damn,” I said, “I never knew he was into that”.
He continued, “When I got back to my car, I realized I had a boner. I can’t believe I got turned on watching my brother jerk off with his own shit. So, I don’t know, when you asked me to do that… I guess it just struck a nerve. I know my wife would never go for anything like this, and I’m not about to ask Steven about it. I guess I’m just scared. I’m sorry I’ve been distant”.
“It’s cool, bud. Look, I’m here for you, and like I said, no expectations. You ever want to talk about this, I’m here. You never want to speak of it again, I get it. You’re my best friend, and that is more important than anything else”, I reassured him.
“Thanks bud”, he sad, giving me a huge hug. “Let’s go to the store”.