STORY TIME! The CB Radio & The Trucker - Part III

STORY TIME! The CB Radio & The Trucker - Part II

STORY TIME! I wrote the Part I and Part II to this story last month. Click those links to get caught up. Now for Part III... and BE AWARE: there is some more sexuality in this part, so if you're an innocent little diaperdunce and you don't want to get caught up in all the X-RATED ish, this entry might not be for you...

PART III 

I awoke to the sounds of clinking glass. The sun was shining, peeking through the curtains of the windshield, and I looked up to see Kyle's diaper-clad ass bent over the coffee maker, making a pot of coffee. Nice! 

"Oh, you're awake," Kyle said, smiling. "Nice. I was just about to make us some coffee. Want breakfast?"

"What's for breakfast?" I asked groggily. He smiled and picked up a box of donuts, clearly from the gas station.

"Coffee and donuts," he replied. "Best I could do on short notice."

I looked across the parking lot, scanning the line of cars. I expected to see a huge mound of snow where my car sat, but instead I saw it, clear as day - with no snow on it at all. Beside it sat cars covered in snow mountains on both sides. Kyle saw the perplexed look on my face and laughed.

"I've been up since six," he told me. "I can't turn off my body clock just because of a snowstorm."

"Did you... brush off my car?" I asked him. He smiled and nodded. "Wow... thanks..."

"Don't mention it. That's what friends do, man."

It occurred to me that maybe Kyle was just in a hurry to leave. So I asked him, point blank, if he needed to hit the road.

"Not just yet," he said. "I have a few questions for you over breakfast..."

So Kyle poured two cups of coffee and we moved to the front of the truck, taking up our original positions on the seats. Kyle gave me my choice of donuts first - powdered or chocolate - and then took two for himself. We sat up high, looking out over the parking lot, sipping delicious coffee and stale donuts. I was still on a high from the night before, but wondering if Kyle had any regrets...

"So you said you had some questions for me?" I asked him. He nodded but kept sipping, then took another bite of donut, and then another sip. I wondered if he was hesitant, or just hungry.

Finally, he spoke.

"I was wondering... I know you wet them. But do you... you know..."

"Mess?" I completed his sentence. I knew even hard-core ABDLs have trouble with this question, so I wasn't as surprised that he did, as that he was asking it at all. "Hardly ever."

"Oh, for real?" He sounded surprised. "You mean... you have, then?"

"I think everyone who is into diapers has at least once," I told him. "But it's hard to clean up, so..."

I trailed off. I wondered why he was asking. He laughed wryly, and I could see him picturing me trying to clean up a messy diaper. I wondered if it was his or mine...

"I just wondered. I don't think I ever will but... there are times that you just can't find a bathroom. So I wondered if it was like, noticeable..."

"Very much so," I told him, hoping to dispel any notion in his mind that he could walk into a truck stop in a messy diaper and not be noticed. "It will stink up your truck, too. So... think of that...."

"Oh, I'm not going to ever do it, I don't think. I just wondered. But I had another question..."

"Shoot."

"I noticed that you have a bunch in that bag," he continued. "I was wondering if I could buy some from you?"

I had to laugh. I'd just had one of the best nights I'd had in a long time, followed by a semi-delicious breakfast. I'd just give him some, of course. I'd thought about it anyway.

"You can just have some," I told him.

"No, I wouldn't just take them," he cut me off. "I make enough money to afford my own, I just - well, since they're here, and you're here, I just wanted to try a few more times before I buy them...."

"Try before you buy?" I asked him, and we both laughed. I nodded. "But I'm not selling them to you. You gave me a comfortable place to stay, you fed me breakfast, and you brushed the snow off my car. You can have some." I counted out six from the bag, leaving me just one. He smiled.

"One for you. Want me to put it on you?" he asked.

"Well, I'm not really planning on wearing it - " I began, but then I stopped myself. Chris, what the fuck are you DOING? "I mean... sure, as long as I can put yours on you." He laughed, and explained that he was just going to wear the one he had on. But then he, too, seemed to think better of it.

"I mean... sure, bro."

I crawled into the back of the truck and lay on the bed. He peeled my diaper off, wadded it up, and tossed it into the wastebasket, and then proceeded to wipe me, slide my last diaper up underneath me, and diaper me like he'd done it hundreds of times before. He was a natural. I pulled my pants up and he switched positions with me, and you best believe I took my time powdering that beautiful bottom - it might be the last time I'd ever see it.




Before he left he took my cell number. He didn't have a cell phone, he told me, and I wondered if that was really true, or if he just didn't want to give it to me. It made me kind of sad, thinking that maybe he just wanted to put this experience in his rear-view and drive away. His explanation made sense, though... too much money with all the roaming charges. (Some of y'all li'l abies don't even know what that means, probably). So I asked him to call me the next time he was in town.

"I'm not in New York that often," he told me.

That's it, I thought. This will be the last time I see the kid. I gazed at his ass one more time. I was sad, but at the same time I realized how lucky I'd been - I'd gotten to diaper someone cool as fuck, and beautiful too. And he was a nice person. Of course he'd want to drive away from this... it's not normal.

And, as I drove away myself, I was hit with that post-ejaculation diaper-guilt.

That depression that hits you after you've hung out with a cool diaperboy and they have to hit the road.

If you've met ABies from out of town you know what I'm talking about. I've felt it after visits from a few collegebabies in Orlando - you're in your element, hanging out in diapers with someone who totally gets you, and then - BAM! - they're gone.

The depression hits, even if you know you'll see them again.

When you don't know... it's kinda intense.




I didn't hear from Kyle that week. Or the next. Or the next.

That didn't stop me from thinking about him. A lot.

During my diaper time I replayed diapering him in my mind. I pictured his ass a lot. And I kept thinking about how he'd brushed off my car, and iced off the windshield and windows, and bought me breakfast, and made me coffee, and...

In other words, I thought about that night quite a bit.

I wondered if Kyle actually had worn the diapers I'd given him. Or if he'd had second thoughts, panged by guilt, and just thrown them in a trash bin down the road.

For at least a few weekends after my overnight I found reasons to break away, head down the Thruway, and - of course - listen to the CB radio as I drove. I thought I might hear his voice. I was hopeful, even though part of me figured if he wouldn't call, he wouldn't want to hear my voice on the radio, either.

Still, I was sad.

And then one day he called!

"Chris," said the voice on the phone, from a number I didn't recognize. "Guess who got the courage to buy a bag?"

"You?" I guessed, trying to contain my excitement at hearing his voice.

"You know it, man!"

"Wow," I replied. I probably sounded surprised that he'd bought his own bag of diapers, but I was more surprised that he'd called! "That's... awesome, Kyle."

"I know," he told me, clearly proud of himself. "I almost bought some twice. The third time was the charm. Attends. Size medium."

"Those are really good ones." (At the time, they were). "So did you wear the ones I left with you?"

"Pfffft. Those were gone in the first week. And I'll be honest, Chris... I kind of got used to having them on. When I didn't have one the day after I wore the last I almost pissed myself in my truck. I just pretty much forgot."

"I know that feeling," I told him.

"I'm going to be back in New York in a few weeks, and I want to see you," he told me. I almost jumped for joy. "I have a short stop, but if you come I'll haul ass to get there, and then haul ass to make up the time."

"When? I'm down," I replied. He had no idea how down I was...





Our next visit was almost identical to the first, except for the snow. Spring had almost arrived, and it was unseasonably warm. So warm that he had vents open on the truck, and was we humped on each other and jerked we could hear the voices of truck drivers around us. It was surreal, but I get into being diapered in public so it was kind of hot, as well.

After we'd both ejaculated Kyle lay next to me and put his knee over me. He kind of cuddled me - I love that - and we lay there, just sort of breathing on each other. And then, to break the silence, I explained how hot I thought it was that people were right outside the truck when we were humping.

"So you... like it when people watch?" Kyle said in a mock sexy voice, and I had to laugh.

"Not so much when they watch me jacking in diapers," I explained. "That's kind of creepy. But I just like being so close to people when I'm in diapers period. I like to feel like it's normal, like I can just.... wear them."

And with that I began explaining how much I loved wearing nothing but a diaper at the cottage. I told him stories about how I'd first discovered the freedom of stripping down to my diaper and walking around outside. And how I'd realized how natural it felt, like clothes were something meant to constrain us and diapers were all we were ever supposed to wear. I wondered if he'd think I was a weirdo, but I was on a roll, and he seemed to cuddle a little tighter as I went on.

"Have you ever gotten... caught?" he interrupted me at one point, and I realized I had a whole new batch of stories to tell. I told him about the time I'd fallen asleep on the dock, the sunshine warming my diapered bum, and woke up just in time to hear my neighbors coming down their driveway. And about the time that a fisherman had motored up to me as my boat took on water, and found me in nothing but actual Huggies, just as I pulled my swim trunks up over my diapers. And about the time my grandmother had come down to the cottage and peered through the screen as I lay in just a diaper, and then left, thinking I was sleeping - I'd always wondered if she had realized what I was wearing, but never wanted to ask. Kyle laughed at this last story.

"I can't even imagine," he told me. "But I kind of know what you mean. A week ago I was in this shower stall in Mobile, and this guy walks into the showers and just walked up to the door and started shaking it. Before I could even tell him I was in it he door opens, and sure enough his mouth drops open, because I'm standing there in just a diaper." I had to laugh at the thought of that. "I mean, I was about to get into the shower, I was just setting my stuff out. So my diaper is soaked, and honestly Chris, it kind of reeked a little. And he just stares for a minute, and then he apologized and backed out. Honestly, I was glad I was wearing a diaper... serves his big beastly ass right for shaking the door like that."

"Honestly, Kyle, that's kind of hot," I told him.

"I knew you'd think so," he told me. "That's why I shared it with you."

Kyle and I had the occasion to meet several more times. Each time he would give me a week's notice, and then call me when he was in town. I'd never know where he was going to call me from - he either didn't want to give me his cell phone or really didn't have one - but I'd always get excited when I'd see some random area code on my phone, hoping it would be him. Sometimes it wasn't - talk about a letdown. But whenever it was, it pretty much made my week.

Each time that Kyle visited we'd diaper each other and jerk off. I'd share diaper stories from growing up, and he'd tell me more about his own, very recent diaper experiences. It was kind of fascinating, getting to talk to Kyle about his experiences. I knew he'd probably never be a true ABDL, but he seemed to be becoming a diaper fetishist, as evidenced by his last visit - he pulled a drawer out and showed me his 'stash' - the kid was picking up on the terminology - and he confided that he'd started jerking off into his diapers - and loved it.





The last time we'd meet at a truck stop I, of course, had no idea it would be the last time.

I also had no idea that Kyle would be in town. He hadn't called. In fact, I hadn't heard from him in quite a while. I wasn't worried - we'd become close enough that I figured I'd hear from him again. I figured, in fact, that we'd be friends for life - we'd certainly shared enough sexual experiences and stories for it. But he hadn't called, and I was driving down the Thruway one day, CB radio on for no particular reason, when I heard his voice.

"Diaper Kyle to Diaper Chris, c'mon." 

At first I thought I was hearing things. I turned the radio up and listened.

"Diaper Kyle to Diaper Chris, c'mon."

WTF?

I picked up the radio mic.

"Uhhhh... this is... Chris. Over."

"Chris, this is Diaper Kyle. I've got a layover at the truck stop, c'mon." 

"I will... be... right... there."


I wondered why Kyle hadn't called. It was by sheer luck that I'd been on the Thruway, and by sheer luck that I'd had the CB radio on. I almost couldn't believe the chances that I'd heard his voice - the odds must have been a million to one that I'd be driving in the area the same time he was calling for me.

Still, I had to laugh at the fact that he was using the handles he'd given us the first night we'd met. That had been more than a year before, and he still remembered. I was a little ashamed for not having used mine when I replied. I still felt like I was in shock a little...

I pulled in to the truck stop and looked for Kyle's truck. I didn't see it.

Maybe my mind had been playing tricks on me...

Just then a USExpress truck pulled in behind me. I looked up into the cab and sure enough, it was Kyle. He gave me a huge smile and a wave, and then blasted the truck horn. I parked, got out, and walked over to him. He jumped down from the cab, walked over to me, threw his arms around me, and gave me a huge hug.


"Bro... I thought I was never going to see you again," he told me.

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused. I couldn't wait for this kid's visits.

"Bro... I lost your number. They gave me a new truck, and I forgot to take my pad out of the old one. And your number was gone."

Shit...

"I was just hoping you'd be on the radio, and then I realized I was about to pass your car!" he continued. (I had a vanity license plate that made my car stand out, which is how he'd recognized it). "And there you were! I was so relieved..."


It meant a lot to me that Kyle had been worried about not being able to see me again. It reminded me of how I'd felt the first time he'd driven away.

"Here, here's my card," I told him. I pulled my business card out of my wallet and handed him one. I explained how I did some freelance work and had printed business cards so I could try to expand my reach.

"Want me to pin them on truck stop bulletin boards across the country?" he asked me. "That will expand it. PROFESSIONAL DIAPER-ER - JUST CALL DIAPER CHRIS!" 

This was before the 'abysitter' title, and I had to laugh at the idea of diapering people professionally. He laughed too, and I shook my head.


"Nah, but here, have another," I told him, flinging a card into the sleeper cab. I turned to look to see where it landed and realized that the setup in the back was much, much nicer. The bed was an island, and bigger, and the truck had real windows now, with curtains and everything. Kyle could see that I was impressed and he gave me a quick tour.

The tour consisted of showing me how everything was bigger - "bigger bed... bigger coffee maker... bigger microwave... bigger television... bigger windows..."

"Your last truck didn't have windows," I reminded him.

"It had vents. These are just bigger vents," he replied. I looked skeptical and he laughed. "Okay, well... did my old truck have this?" he lifted the mattress and pulled out part of the bed and I saw what was clearly a porta-toilet of some kind. I can only imagine that the look on my face was a mixture of horror and disgust, because he burst out laughing and assured me he'd never use it. "But bro... I have one of only a few trucks in this whole fleet with a toilet. I wasn't going to argue with them, because this truck is sick but... they should've given it to one of the old guys. I'll never even use it." He winked at me, and I had to laugh.

I rarely travel without diapers, but this was one of those occasions. I explained my predicament, and Kyle told me I didn't have to worry - he'd brought some.

"You shared yours with me, now it's time for me to return the favor."

And, with more room in the truck, his stash, he explained, had expanded. He pulled out his diaper drawer, and I was surprised to see diapers that I'd never seen before. He had Molicare diapers - you couldn't find them in any store I'd ever been to - and I instinctively grabbed one. 

"So you're a Molicare guy, huh?" he asked me. I told him I'd never worn a Molicare before, and he told me I was in for a treat. "I used to be afraid to stop in and buy diapers at the drug store. Now I pull my truck right in front of this healthcare place in South Carolina and just stock up," he explained. "They have all kinds of diapers I bet you've never seen. I'll try to get a different bag every time I stop there, give you a selection."

This was before mail-order diaper services like XPMedical were popular. I was excited.

I was even more excited when Kyle informed me that he'd gotten ahead of schedule by almost a whole day.

"I can actually just hang out tomorrow," he explained. "I skipped some sleep so I could get here, I was hoping I'd somehow connect with you. I was ready to just sit on the radio and call you every five minutes for the whole day. I can't believe you were right in front of me."

"You were going to call out Diaper Kyle to Diaper Chris for a whole day?" I asked him. He laughed and rolled his eyes.

"I was going to lay down in the back and do it," he confided. "I know it'd get annoying after a while. But if nobody knows who Diaper Kyle is... I'm okay."

I had to laugh at that.

This was the last time Kyle and I would meet at a truck stop - and the second-to-last time we would meet. Neither of us knew it at the time, of course. But it's as if our penises did. Because Kyle not only diapered me, but he - for no explicable reason - kneeled over me and rubbed the front of my diaper. For something like thirty minutes. Then he got undressed, climbed back over me but in reverse, and continued to rub - I was hard as fuck - with that beautiful bottom right in my face. I played with his dick, getting him hard, and at some point I told him to lay down so I could hump. He lay on his stomach - no diaper - humping his bed, his ass right up in my face, and I humped the fuck out of that diaper.

I'm not sure if it was his bare bottom, or the fact that it was a molicare, or just knowing how lucky I'd been to connect with him - or maybe a combination of the three - but when I finally came, I came for what felt like five minutes, and it was fucking explosive. It took me back to that feeling I'd gotten the first time I ever ejaculated - it was that good. I felt myself trembling - that almost never happens - and I could feel myself squirting so hard that I was surprised none squirted up past the waistband.

"Intense, right?" Kyle asked me when I was done. I nodded. "Yeah, they really know how to make the material in those Molicares. It's like they know that we jerk off in them."

Kyle still wasn't diapered, and I half-heartedly asked him if he wanted me to put one on him. He shook his head and began to grip his joint, stroking it furiously. It had taken me something like thirty minutes to ejaculate - I've always taken forever, something that's great when you want the pleasure to last, but not-so-great when you want the other person not to have to clear their calendar for a sexual encounter. It took Kyle about thirty seconds. And he seemed to have just as strong a reaction as I did; he squirted higher and longer than he had before, and some of his semen actually came down and hit me in the face.

"Dude... what the fuck," I said, and we both started laughing.

"Blame yourself... you got me started," he told me. He wiped my face with his hand, and then grabbed a diaper and baby wipe, hit my face and his penis in one swoop. He then lay next to me, pulled his diaper up underneath his ass, and taped it on.

"You got good at that," I told him. "When you first tried you had no idea..."

He nodded proudly.

"Practice makes perfect," he told me. "I pretty much wear these every night, and a lot during the day now."

I think the fact that we'd both Old Faithful'd just a little while before made us sleepy. We lay on top of each other, kind of cuddling, and both of us were asleep within a few minutes. 

The next day Kyle and I walked across the street to the diner, both of us still diapered. We got to have a real breakfast, not from the gas station. As we downed pancakes and coffee Kyle asked me to share some stories about other encounters I'd had. I had not had very many then, but I shared some stories about my Pampz-for-pay episodes, and Kyle stopped me to let me know that, if he wasn't an OTR truck driver, I'd never have to pay to put someone in diapers.

"If I lived here, I'd be over every night," he told me. He laughed at the look on my face, a mixture of surprise and disbelief. Did he like it that much?

"You better believe I'd be down for that," I said. I was sad again - he'd be driving off, and it would probably be weeks, or months, before we'd see each other again.

Still, as we ate breakfast, and talked about diapered sexual encounters in a public place like nobody else was around us, I remembered, yet again, how lucky I was.

I wondered if I'd ever be lucky enough to have someone locally who was into diapers like I was.

Kyle and I returned to his truck and sat in the cab, talking for a bit. Then he suggested we go at it again. I couldn't say no. So I found myself, just half a day after one of the most powerful sexual experiences of my life thusfar (or probably since, lol), in the sleeper cab, humping the shit out of Kyle's new island bed, using his beautiful bottom as my personal pillow.

Bam. It was over.

I started to rub Kyle's diaper and he stopped me.

"I don't want to come, man," he told me. "I just wanted you to be able to. I gotta drive in a while, best to be alert."

It felt awesome to know that Kyle had done that just for me.

But then he admitted he had an ulterior motive.

"After a half dozen cups of coffee I have to piss pretty hard," he told me. "I'm about to soak this thing. Can you change me after?"

I laughed.

"Bro... you don't even have to ask..."

I tried to think if I'd ever even seen him in a wet diaper. I didn't think I had. This would be hot.

A few minutes later he was soaked. A few minutes after that, so was I. Instead of changing him right away I pulled him on top of me. I love the feeling of someone else's soaked diaper all up on me, and it was hot - if I hadn't just ejaculated twice in twelve hours I might have gotten hard again. We lay there for what must have been an hour or two, neither of us talking. Finally Kyle's watch alarm went off. He shook his head sadly and announced that he had to hit the road to stay on schedule.

"Let me change your diaper first," I offered. He obediently turned over and pulled his knees up toward him, and I grabbed a diaper out of the drawer - I wasn't even sure what kind it was - and I tore his wet diaper off, wiped and powdered that amazing ass, and put the fresh diaper on him.

"Want me to change you?" he asked me. 

I shook my head. I was headed home - I'd moved to the city near the truck stop by this time, so I was almost there, I explained. "Ah, you wanna drive away damp... I understand," he told me. Then he asked me if I would throw his wet diaper out on my way. "I'll probably drive straight through about ten hours before I stop," he told me. "This diaper will be soaked by then... I don't need two wet diapers to deal with." I agreed.

I got dressed and stepped out of the truck. Kyle joined me on the pavement and gave me a huge hug. I walked over to the car, soaked Kyle diaper in my hand, kind of holding it like a trophy. It probably sounds weird, but some of you know might know what I'm talking about... I had the soaking wet diaper of someone I'd introduced to diapers in my hand, and it felt good. I didn't care who saw. If I didn't know that diaper would stink like a motherfucker the next day, I probably would've kept that shit.

I drove home with it, and tossed it into the trash bin in my kitchen. Before I went to bed I changed my own diaper, and, as I went to throw the old one into the trash, I caught a whiff of Kyle's diaper - it still smelled like Kyle, and made me hard. I went up to bed, lay down, and humped.

I came. It wasn't nearly as amazing as when I'd came with Kyle, and I sadly wondered if I'd ever experience something like that again.

Still, as I drifted off to sleep I realized, once again, how fucking lucky I am.

There are times when being ABDL has felt like a curse. But in this tiny little sliver of the universe, in the back of an OTR truck driver's sleeper cab, for those few hours every few weeks when it was parked at the truck stop, I felt like I was in heaven.

I wouldn't give up being addicted to diapers for anything.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Next Up: Kyle's Surprise Visit - and The Sheriff Gets A Surprise