UPDATING CONTACTS AGAIN

I am updating my contacts again before the holiday texting frenzy begins. Help me out?

• If you and I text but your # has changed this year, email me or text. Be sure to include your name - I'm tired of people texting me with their numbers and being annoyed I don't know who they are.

• If we don't text yet but you'd like to, email me with your name and contact info.

• If we are on a REAL NAME basis hit me up on Facebook - just search for me by name. If we are straight diaper friends, hit me up on my diaper Facebook: /abysitter.

• YIM: abysitter - say what up and if we haven't talked before (or ever) let me know who you are.

• Email: abysitter@gmail.com

Baby Pictures: Cookie Via

Up today I have a set of adorable pictures from someone new: Cookie Via! Cookie is 20 years old and lives in Moreno Valley, California. You can find him as Cookie Via on Facebook, and he's on Tumblr, too! You can contact him directly at cookievia@ymail.com. He's promised more pics for the blog in the near future, but if you like what you see seek him out, because there's more where these came from!

Thanks, Cookie! 

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Baby Pictures: Baby Spencey

Up today I have the latest contribution from Baby Spencey! Spencer is a former collegebaby in the midwest who's contributed to this blog what just might be a record number of times. Spencey has been sending in pictures since 2010, and I'm excited to have some new ones - his baby pics are always adorable. 

 

Check out his new watermark! Copyright, yo!

You can view the whole Baby Spencey series here. I'll have some more Spencey pictures next week, and a bunch of pictures from other guest contributors, as well.  

 

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CUTE WATERMARK, SPENCEY!!!

  

 

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

[CWIS'S NOTE] I STARTED TO WRITE A STORY ABOUT AN ENCOUNTER I HAD A FEW YEARS BEFORE I LEFT NY, BUT I GOT CAUGHT UP WRITING ABOUT GROWING UP. SOME OF YOU HAVE ALREADY READ THIS IN OLDER BLOG ENTRIES CIRCA 2009-2010; OTHERS OF YOU ONLY LIKE TO READ ENTRIES IF THEY DIRECTLY RELATE TO XXX-RATED DIAPER STORIES. SO IF YOU WANT THE ABRIDGED VERSION OF THIS STORY, SKIP DOWN TO THE RED TEXT AND READ FROM THERE. FOR EVERYONE ELSE... 

 

Growing up, I often felt lost.

I was adopted, and while I have a great relationship with my family now - I'd say we're incredibly close despite a distance of thousands of miles - as a teenager it was not that way.

Not at all.

Diapers, for me, were probably a coping mechanism before I was old enough to know what a coping mechanism was. 

I'd use evenings that my parents and brother were at various activities to sneak some Cwis time; I'd sometimes fake being sick and get a whole day. When I had a few hours, or an entire day, away from my family, that's probably when I felt closest to them. Because I'd diaper up - cloth diapers for a while, and then some homemade disposables I crafted from garbage bags, paper towels, toilet paper, and tape - and wind down. I'd be Cwis, and these free hours would be spent crawling around the house, laying outdoors in the sunshine, or even laying in the crib that had been set up for my cousins. 

My family wasn't home - but in my imagination they were feeding me my bottle, coloring with me, rubbing my tummy as I lay in my crib... you get the idea.

When I was 13, 14, and 15 I got into cycling. It wasn't for fitness, although it left me incredibly fit at the time; it wasn't for competition, although I joined a competitive friend for Tuesday time trials every once in a while. It was so I could get the fuck out of my house. 

 

I'd ride six miles each way into the area by my high school to hang out with friends. I'd ride even further to get to lifeguard classes. And, when I got my first job, I'd often ride 16 miles, each way, to get to work.

I could have gotten a ride. But I wanted so badly to be independent, to be separate from my family then. So I'd mount the bike - a hand-me-down, at first, and later a $500 Cannondale racing bike I spent every penny I earned on - and I'd just ride.

Ride to get places. Ride to get space between me and my family. Ride to find freedom.

When I turned 16 I was finally old enough to drive. My grandfather had left me his car - an old, rusty, bright yellow Ford Escort station wagon he called The Buttercup. He'd told me it would be mine one day, and it seemed like that day would never come. Finally, it had. After some arguments with my parents, who apparently hadn't shared my grandfather's vision of me driving around, completely free, at sixteen, they agreed to put it back on the road for me. 

FREEDOM!

My senior year of high school was spent everywhere but home. I worked in the high school in the morning, lifeguarding faculty swim. After school I had swim practice, and I'd round the night out with my part-time job teaching swimming lessons or supervising open swim at the pool. I'd get home around 10, and start over the next morning at 4:45. Weekends not spent at swim meets were spent running swimming lessons and weekend family swim.

In my desperation to break free of my family and find my own identity I sort of pushed myself into adulthood quicker than most. The majority of my friends were still spending their free hours playing basketball or video games all the way through senior year; I was working. Few had cars, or even wanted them; I considered mine the key to my survival. 

I remember my parents worrying that I was trying to grow up and move out way too fast - "You'll spend the rest of your life working," they'd remind me. They didn't understand. But, over time, they came to accept my leaving at the crack of dawn, and coming home after the rest of my family was in bed. I think it might have even made them grow closer as a family.

Still, as I grew up, my need for regression grew stronger, as it does for many of us. 

I was busy, and loving my life, but I would still find that need to experience my 'little side' bottling up, just like we all do. Sometimes I'd sneak a diaper into the house from my hiding spot in the back of the station wagon; I'd tape one on, rub one out, and sleep in it, completely at peace. Still, that alarm clock would ring at 4:45 and I'd be back to Chris. If you're AB like me, you know that six hours of baby time is not enough...

That's when my trips to the cottage began.

The first time I drove to the cottage by myself it was on a whim. I'd expected to have the house to myself and my family's plans had changed. I'd gotten diapers, powder, and wipes - plus the assorted accessories - all ready in my car, planning to bring them into the house the moment my family left. I'd had a particularly stressful week, and I needed some toddlerization! And then - bam - change of plans.

So I said fuck it. I had that night, and the next day, to do nothing. I had diapers and everything else I needed, all ready to go, in my wagon. So I let my parents know I'd be spending the night at a friends, got in the car, and drove to the cottage. 

An hour later, I was there; fifteen minutes after that I was stripped naked, laying on the couch underneath the screen window letting lake breezes sweep over me. I spent the rest of the day diapered, doing a combination of baby stuff and lake stuff. You can read the rest of the cottage series for more.

Moving on...

Cottage trips for toddlerization purposes became commonplace for me, and I got so I was spending weekends there as often as possible. I found myself diapering up at the cottage. Soon I'd gotten the balls to wear diapers out in the boat - under swimming trunks, of course. Eventually I was stripping down to just a diaper for a few minutes at a time, and loving every second of it. (There's a funny story here somewhere of a time I got caught in just a diaper in my sinking rowboat... if anyone can find it I'll give you a shoutout!) I eventually began wearing diapers into town. Crinkle? IDGAF! I was in a town an hour from where I grew up, and I knew almost nobody here... diapered day and night was now a possibility.

As fall came and the coldness began to settle in I decided I didn't want to give up my Cwis time... I'd grown to love diapers so much, and they were basically a part of me. I snuck some electric blankets to the cottage - if you've read the series you know that it was an unheated structure, save for a wood-burning stove - and I filled the dresser with the warmest pajamas and hoodies I could find.

And, since this was before cell phones were affordable - yea, I'm getting old lol - I put went to Radio Shack, bought a CB radio, and put it in my car. 

THE ACTUAL STORY STARTS HERE... 

KINDA... LOL...

Side note: I've always been obcessed with gadgets. When pagers came out I had one of the first ones - remember beeper codes ("143! 187!") and all? (If you don't... damn, I'm getting old.) 

When alphanumeric pagers came out I had one of the first ones of those, too, complete with an operator answering my calls and typing out the message. (I loved that). 

Cell phones became affordable and I got one. The flip phone came out, and I couldn't wait to get it. I had a Palm Pilot before PDA phones were a thing, and was looking into subscribing to a service that allows your Palm Pilot to check email - for $50/month! Then Palm created their first phone, and I couldn't wait. 

Today, many phones later, I'm typing this blog entry on an iPhone 5S.

But before all that, CB radios were the way people communicated on the road. 

Today that seems corny - even truckers use laptops and cell phones in their cabs - but when I was in high school and college riding up and down the New York State Thruway hours at a time in all kinds of weather (blizzards and snowstorms? Yessir...) was made easier with a CB radio in my hand. 

Plus, they were fun... rolling up and down the road talking to people I'd never meet... kind of like the internet today, I guess.

I still remember my first winter of driving to the cottage. Sometimes it would be so cold, and I'd pad up, get in the car, turn the heat on, and just drive around. I'd drive over by the Thruway, get a cup of hot cocoa at the gas station - I was too young for coffee then - and I'd sit by the highway, listening to passing truckers on the CB, sometimes for hours, as I lay back in my car, completely relaxed. Eventually my diaper would be flooded, I'd start to notice the freezing sensation on my ass, and I'd drive back to the cottage, happy as fuck, ready to change and curl up under the electric blanket.

At that time I still hadn't diapered very many people. A few friends (non-ABDL) had worn with me, but my efforts to meet up with actual ABDLs were met with flaking and fronting. (I've blogged about that here before).

I was spending plenty of time as Cwis, but no matter how close I felt to the people who were part of my regression fantasies, I was almost always alone in reality. In my car, though, sipping hot chocowate from a sippy cup, and flooding my diaper, the voices on the radio were connecting me with people. It wasn't as cool as being able to wear diapers in front of people, but it felt pretty close at the time.

Fast forward a few years... 

As I mentioned, by the time I finished college I had a cell phone.

The CB radio was still in the car, but its technology was pretty much outdated by then, so its antenna looked like one of those cell phone antennas, and it hardly ever came out of the glove compartment.

One day I was at the gas station by the Thruway onramp closest to the cottage. I was coming from home, headed to the cottage for the weekend. A snowstorm was coming, and I had a limited amount of time to get in and get the car off the road before the snow began to fall. I'd pulled over to fill up and pick up some groceries in case I got snowed in for a day or two...

The gas station doubled as a truck stop, and it was always filled with tractor trailers, usually driven by the types of people you'd expect to see rolling through with big rigs: wizened old rednecks and the occasional rugged woman lol. I'd gotten to know this gas station well as a kid - it was always my first stop off the Thruway on my way to the cottage, and my gas fill-up stop on my way home. It was also the spot that I regularly threw out all of my wet diapers, hehe. Over the years I'd disposed of dozens there.

I was sitting in the parking lot checking the Thruway road report on their toll-free hotline... parts of the Thruway were already closed due to ice and snow, and it was headed towards us. 

Then, out of nowhere, this kid walked out of the gas station. 

He caught my eye immediately. He was hot as FUCK. College age, great shape, kind of tan (in winter), and a little thuggish. 

He walked with kind of a swagger. He was wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt, even as the air had turned freezing. He was buff, and - oh, yea - he had a perfect ass. 

OMFG. If you know me, you know I love a hot ass. I tried not to stare...

I didn't know many people from the area this gas station was in, but I'd become accustomed to seeing the same faces over and over in my travels around town, and I'd definitely never seen this face. Or ass. I watched this dude walk across the parking lot, and I figured we were just a quarter mile from the Thruway... I figured he was just passing through.

He passed the car I thought he was about to get in and glanced at me. I pretended to look at something that didn't exist in my car, but out of the corner of my eye I watched him walk past all the cars in the parking lot. That's when I realized that he was headed for a row of tractor trailers.  

Must be riding along with someone, I thought. 

But he wasn't. He hopped up into the driver's seat of a USExpress truck.

Holy shit... this kid is about to steal an 18-wheeler!

I watched him for a few minutes. He sat in the driver's seat, leaned back with his eyes closed. I figured whoever was driving his truck would come out to it soon. Nobody came. I wondered if they might be sleeping in the cab... this kid couldn't be a truck driver, he was too young... and too... hot. No fucking way...

I noticed that he'd sat up; he was looking around now, and had his CB mic in his hand.

I couldn't have gotten to my CB radio fast enough! It hadn't been used in a while, and the battery wasn't even charged - thank God I had a charging adapter for it in the car. I fished it out of the glove compartment so fast I practically threw the contents of the glove compartment onto the floor. Whatever this kid was saying might solve the mystery of what he was doing in the cab of this truck! And I had a CB radio and could hear it. I was 'lurking' in modern-day language... lol...

I turned the radio on and instantly heard a voice I knew must be his. He sounded light years younger than everyone else on the radio. 

He had a little bit of a New York or New Jersey accent. He was asking for a weather forecast, and wasn't liking what he was hearing - other drivers had decided to stay at the truck stop to wait out a storm that was coming. I heard him swear, something you don't usually hear on a CB. The kid was trying to decide whether to make a break for it, or to batten down for the night. I was just chillin'... lurking... and forgot that I, myself, was supposed to be making a break for it as well.

He began asking for directions to a few different cities along his route. Most of the truckers were from out of town, and their directions, while close, were not exactly accurate. For example, they told him he could make Ithaca in 30 minutes - no fucking way, even if it wasn't snowing. They told him that he should head down Route 5 - they clearly didn't realize how horrible the plowing would be if it began to snow before he cleared it. 

Eventually I picked up the radio and broke in, giving him some pretty solid directions.

HIM: So if I try to make it to Syracuse, I can make PA by taking 81...

ME: Yes, but that road isn't plowed for whole stretches as you get close to the state line... 

HIM: Damn. So if I ride along the lake, how is that road looking... 

ME: Not passable for a truck of your side on the east side. On the west side you can do it, but it's way out of your way... 

The kid definitely seemed to be leaning towards spending the night at the truck stop, but he was still asking for directions when suddenly he stopped talking. I looked up and realized he was looking at me.

HIM: You know, you can just come over to the truck and show me on the map... 

And so I did.

I'd never been in a tractor trailer before. The motherfucker was huge. I remember being shocked at how large the engine was - it was like looking over a ten-foot piece of steel stretched out in front of the driver. 

 

I tried to avoid looking in the back, but couldn't help myself. I'd expected to find a bunk bed like I'd seen on TV once, but there was a full bed back there, plus a sink, microwave, coffee maker, and TV! It was like a little hotel on wheels...

He'd pulled out a map (no GPS yet, lol) and we went through various routes. 

 

I'm not sure how much time had gone by, but by the time the kid was sure none of the routes we'd seen would be possible it was getting dark and had begun to snow outside. The CB radio continuously crackled, with truckers warning others not to try to take the Thruway - accidents and ice had resulted in the closing of sections of it closer and closer to us. 

 

I probably should have been thinking of getting my own ass back to the cottage, but before I did I had to ask him how he came to find himself behind the wheel of an 18-wheeler. So I did. And his story, which stretched on for nearly 45 minutes, was quite a story.

His name was Kyle, and he'd just turned 24. He'd grown up in New Jersey. He'd planned to go to college to be a pilot but his father had died when he was in high school and his family had been left practically broke.

His mother had given him two choices when he graduated high school: move in with friends or pay rent - she couldn't afford to keep the house. Kyle decided that college wasn't an option, so he called the number on an ad for trucking school and got his license by the end of that year. He spent the next two years driving daily deliveries in an oversized box truck and, when he turned 21, began applying at interstate trucking companies. USExpress had hired him at some point.

Three years later Kyle had paid off his mother's debt on her house and bought a Corvette. The car sat in the garage at his mother's house, and he drove it once a month - the only time he was home. He spent 27 days on the road, and between driving as many miles as legally possible and getting bonuses for making trips on time, he said he'd earned somewhere around $100K in a single year the year before.

"I'm really not used to being stopped," he told me. "I pretty much keep it moving, and only stop to keep the log legal." He winked at me, and I guessed that meant he was driving more miles than was legal or safe. I wasn't sure, since I didn't know anything about trucking. "It kills me that I'm stuck here for the night. Of course, having someone to sit and chill with is pretty awesome."

I had to be honest... sitting there talking to him was pretty awesome, too. As he spoke I couldn't help but be turned on... this dude was young, in charge of his life, and he drove a HUGE TRUCK! I don't know why, but seeing him behind the wheel of this beast was a real turn-on. I tried to act as straight as possible so he wouldn't notice my hardon...

At some point it occurred to me that the snow was really starting to come down. I'd hoped to beat it, because the route I was taking would almost certainly be treacherous. Now I didn't know if I could. DAMN.

"I should go," I told him. "I still have to drive in this..."

As I spoke the radio crackled to life. A trucker was reporting in: the road I'd be taking was unpassable - a tractor trailer had jackknifed and gone partly off the road, blocking most of it in the process. He looked at me, and we both looked outside. My car was no longer visible under inches of snow. 

 

"I feel bad," he told me. "I shouldn't have kept you here... talking about myself for an hour... fuck!" 

 

I could hear real concern in his voice, and it was cute as hell. I told him not to worry, and explained that there was another way home I could take, it would just take longer.

"Where?" he asked. I'd forgotten we'd spent some time looking at the map, but he pushed it toward me. I pointed out the route and he looked upset. "That's way far, Chris," he told me. "I wouldn't be comfortable with that. Not in this weather, bro. I think you should wait for the road to clear up."

I explained that we had no way of knowing how long it would take for the truck to be towed out of the ditch.

"Nah, I mean until it stops snowing," he told me. "Or at least until they get the roads under control."

I was starting to get worried. What was I going to do? This was dumb... I should have just driven away an hour ago...

"I can't, Kyle," I told him. "I'd be stuck here for a few hours at least, and my car is freezing."

"I didn't mean your car, man," he told me. "Your car isn't even there anymore." We both laughed as he pointed around the parking lot, pretending not to be able to find it. "I mean... just chill right here."

"You mean... in your truck?" I asked him, surprised.

"Hell yea," he told me. "Just stay here. I can't leave until morning anyway..."

Kyle was inviting me to spend the night?

 

"Does this seat go back?" I asked him. It was the only thing I could think of to say. I felt like an idiot. He shook his head and smiled, but told me I could even have the bed... he'd sleep in his seat. 

 

"It'll be worth it to have some real, actual company for a little while," he told me. 

 

I felt bad, but I knew that it was unlikely I'd be making it home. So I agreed...

I told Kyle I had to pee. I walked over to my car and grabbed my bag and cell phone, then walked into the truck stop and took a piss. 

 

Then, for no explicable reason, I stepped into the shower area, grabbed a diaper out of my bag - I always carried a few with me back then - and put it on. I hoped that he wouldn't be able to hear it crinkle, but if I was going to be spending the night, I wanted to be comfortable. 

 

I contemplated buying a cup of hot chocolate - I'd left mine in the car, and it was probably freezing by now - but knew I'd just have to piss again, and the snow in the parking lot was getting pretty fucking deep, besides. I hoped that the truck would be warm. 

 

I walked back outside toward the truck and got scared a little when I couldn't see it - I wondered if Kyle had decided to make a break for it. Turns out it was just snowing harder now, and as I trudged through the parking lot I saw the line of trucks, including the bright red US Express truck. Kyle was sitting in the driver's seat, and he face lit up with a smile and he waved to me as I approached.

"I thought you might have gotten cold feet and left," he told me. I thought it was cute that he was worried about the same thing I was.

"The cold feet part is for sure," I told him, "but no... there's no driving in this."

"Good," he told me. "I'm looking forward to this. It's been a long time since I had someone to talk to..." 

I took my seat on the passenger side of the truck. Kyle was wearing a sweatshirt now, and I was a little disappointed, since I'd been enjoying peeping his physique while we talked. Then I noticed that he'd changed into a pair of long underwear - tight, form-fitting long underwear - and I remembered that I have something of a long underwear fetish, too. SCORE!

He flipped a couple of switches, and the lights inside the cab dimmed, and the lights in the sleeper came on. It almost felt like we were in a hotel. I was actually pretty sleepy, and wondered if he'd really let me sleep on the bed... it looked comfortable. Truthfully, I was just happy to be warm again. 

"I pretty much told you my whole life story," Kyle told me, and he put his seat back a notch and kind of stretched out. "I didn't really ask you anything about yourself, cept where you're headed. So tell me... what's your deal?" 

I kind of told the kid a shortened version of my life story - growing up, high school, college. I tried to share with him some of the things that I'd been through, and how I'd dealt with them. 

"That's kind of inspiring," he told me. He sounded serious. I couldn't tell. His story seemed way more inspiring than mine... maybe he was just trying to be nice. 

And he'd come away with something else. 

"You seem pretty lucky. You've got a pretty stable family who love you. And your grandpa left you that car, and the cottage..." 

Lucky indeed. Even if I didn't see it very clearly at the time...

"You seem lucky, too," I told him. "And your mom seems lucky to have you. You paid off her house, and she lets you keep your car there... kind of a win/win, right?" (I was really just trying to deflect the conversation from me, something I've never been that comfortable talking about, even if I can write a one-million-word blog entry about it lol). 

"Well, I felt lucky," he told me. "I was meant to be flying jets, not driving trucks. My dad wanted me to be a pilot, he was going to help me..." and his voice trailed off. 

"Sucks about that," I said. I wasn't really sure what to say. 

"My mom had to use my college money to pay off debts after he died." 

"He was in debt?" I asked. I was, again, not sure what to say. It seemed like we were getting way more personal than two people who'd met in the last hour. I was feeling a little uncomfortable...

"He was in an accident. He hurt someone," Kyle explained. "Her family sued." 

"That sucks," I told him. We both just sat there for a little bit. 

"I guess he was dating her," Kyle continued after a minute or two. "Me and my Mom had no idea. No idea at all. Then we got a call that he'd flipped his car." 

Silence... 

"So, yea... her family sued, and we almost had to sell our house. My mom sold her car and took the bus for a year or two. It really sucked to see..." 

"Wow, man. That really sucks, bro," I told him. "I'm impressed how you kind of took a really shitty situation and turned it into a good one." 

Kyle started to smile, and he re-told the story of how he'd decided to be a truck driver. 

"We needed to get ahead, man. I knew driving truck paid okay, but I didn't realize how much you can make if you just stay out on the road and keep driving. It just keeps adding up. And when you don't have a place to live, because you don't need one, you really don't have any bills... it's a car payment, help with my mom's bills, and the rest goes into the bank..." 

We talked some more, and I asked him if he thought he'd ever become a pilot. He had enough money in the bank to go to flight school, from what he'd told me... 

"It's still my dream, bro," he told me. "I sometimes stop my truck near airports and watch planes come in. I know it should have been me at the controls. But for now I'm grounded..."

We talked about goals. I told him mine, and then he told me his. He wanted to become a pilot, of course. But if that didn't work out, he wanted to keep saving his salary until he had $1 million in the bank. Someone had told him that you could comfortably retire if you had a million saved, and he was already more than one-tenth of the way there at 24. 

"By 45, I should be finished with this life, and ready to start the next one," he told me. 

I asked him if he wanted to start a family, and he looked at me with this look that made me feel like he'd never been asked the question before, much less thought about it on his own...

"I don't know," he kind of stammered. "I mean... I have a family. My mom is my family. You know?" 

"You don't want to get married? Have kids?" I asked. 

He shook his head and laughed. 

"I live in this truck, man. Look around. Does this look like a place to raise a family?" He was leaving out the obvious solution of having a wife and kids at home - maybe at his mom's place, lol - but I didn't want to push it. 

"What about you, Chris?" he asked me. "You got a girlfriend or... anything?"

I shook my head. I was still at that phase in my life where admitting that I was gay was not an option. Imagine if I shared how I'd recently almost had a meet-up with a guy from a diaper website but he'd stood me up. What a story that would be... 

So, instead, I just shook my head. 

"Yea," he told me, as if he understood exactly. "Families are overrated." 

We talked more, and as we did the CB radio crackled softly in the background and the snow continued to fall. I barely noticed the weather outside - the cab was the perfect warmth, and I was as relaxed as I'd felt in a long time. We'd probably talked for three or four hours when Kyle asked if I wanted a cup of coffee. 

"Nah, it's too cold out there," I told him. I instantly wondered if he'd trust me in the truck while he went and got one. He laughed, got up, and stepped into the sleeper cab. As he did his long underwear-clad ass brushed up against me, and I caught myself staring. He turned around, a coffee pot in his hand, and I think he caught me, too. Eek...

"Got coffee right here, bro," he told me. He held the pot under the sink - I wondered where the water was coming from - and in a minute or so coffee was brewing. 

"Wow," I remarked. "This truck has everything. It's really like a rolling hotel on wheels..." 

"Yea, I love it," he told me. "It has everything but a toilet and a shower. If it had those two things I'd never even have to get out at truck stops." He then explained to me how some of the trucks being build that year actually had a porta-john in the sleeper, underneath the bed. "It's for taking a piss," he told me helpfully. "Nobody would ever drop a deuce in their own truck... that's just nasty. But for pissing, that would be nice."

"That must suck, having to find a truck stop every time you have to piss," I acknowledged. He looked at me kind of funny and chuckled. 

"Trust me, a lot of guys don't do that. Truck stops can be hours apart, and sometimes you just can't pull in. People just pull over and go." 

"Really?" 

"Sure, bro," he continued. "You ever seen a trucker checking his tires?" He drew out the words 'checking his tires' and then winked at me. I realized I'd seen that a whole bunch of times. Wow. "And nearly every truck driver has a spare urinal or two for emergencies. Sometimes you can't check the tires. You ever seen a Big Gulp tossed out onto the side of the road?" He laughed as he said it. Wow. 

As he talked it occurred to me that diapers for truckers might be the perfect solution. I didn't mention it, of course. But I pictured this dude rolling around in Pampers, and it instantly got me hard. 

We sipped coffee and talked some more. I had just met this kid on some chance encounter a few hours before, but I felt like I was talking with an old friend. I was amazed at how much we seemed to have in common, even though we probably had almost nothing in common in actuality. A few times as we talked it occurred to me that, a day later, he'd be on his way down the highway, and I might never see him again... damn.

After a while I began to yawn, and then he did too. I stole a sideways glance at the bed in the back and Kyle chuckled. 

"I'm getting sleepy too," he told me. "You read for bed?" 

I nodded. Kyle got up and pulled the blankets down off the bed. I watched his ass the entire time... damn, it was perfect. He turned back towards me and I immediately looked away. He came back into the cab and bent forward over the dashboard, pulling curtains from each side to cover the windshield. As he bent over I couldn't help but steal one last look at his ass. I wanted to rub it through his long underwear... OMFG. All of a sudden I noticed our reflections in the window as the curtain closed over it - and the fact that he was looking at us, too. He started to laugh a little. 

"So I know that I said you could have the bed," he told me. "I don't mind sleeping up here. But if you're okay with sharing... I mean, if that doesn't make you uncomfortable..." 

"It's your truck, bro." 

I couldn't believe my luck. This all seemed surreal. A few hours ago I had expected to be hunkered down in the bunks at the cottage, diapered and covered up by my electric blanket, trying to weather a storm. Now I was chilling in this amazing dude's truck, it felt like our friendship went back years, and he was asking if I wanted to share a bed with him. Fuck yes. 

When I think back on it I realize that I was taking a gamble, one that I probably wouldn't take today. Back then, though, I was all about risks. This was exciting. So I stepped back into the sleeper cab, took off my shoes, and crawled into bed. 

"Bro, do you want to borrow some long johns?" Kyle asked me. "Or you can sleep in your underwear or something, it's all good. I don't want you to have to sleep in your clothes..." 

"Oh, I always sleep in my clothes," I lied. It suddenly occurred to me that I was wearing a disposable diaper - a fact that I'd forgotten. (I felt so comfortable in my diaper, and so comfortable with Kyle, that it totally slipped my mind). 

"Weird, but okay," he told me. "I always sleep in long johns. Except in summer, then I sleep in nothing." 

Hardness, go away!

He flipped some switches and most of the lights were out. The sleeper was now pitch black, and he closed a curtain between the cab and the sleeper, shutting out dashboard lights and making it even darker. I felt him lay down on the other side of the bed. A minute or so went by and my eyes adjusted; the cab was lit by the light from the clock on the microwave, and by light filtering in from a pair of skylights. I could see that there was a good two feet of space between us - the bed was compact, but was apparently bigger than it looked. Which was why I was surprised when Kyle's bottom somehow pressed into my back - not that I was complaining. 

Crinkle, crinkle. The two of us were laying side by side, our backs touching each other, and I was very cognizant that my diaper, which I'd not even remembered I was wearing just a little while ago, was now kind of obvious. 

That made me nervous. But it didn't stop me from falling asleep... 

I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but I woke up a little while later to the sight of Kyle pulling jeans up over his long underwear. 

"That coffee got to me," he told me. "I gotta go pee. You don't gotta, do you?"

I shook my head. I didn't have to go.

"Yea, I didn't think so," he told me, and I could see that he was smiling. "You probably already went, huh?" I looked surprised, and he laughed. "Bro, I don't care, honest." 

"What do you mean?" I asked him, feeling a little queasy... 

"That diaper, man," he said. I could feel my face getting red. "Don't be embarrassed, Chris!" he told me with a sense of urgency. "I mean, it's nothing to be embarrassed about. I just bumped into you and... I noticed, and..." and his voice trailed off. 

"Bro, I don't know what you're thinking but..." 

"I'm thinking I want to ask you about diapers when I come back," Kyle interrupted. "Fuck, I almost wish I was wearing one right now... this sucks! Be right back..." 

And with that Kyle pushed the curtain aside, climbed over the seat, opened the door, and closed it. I sat bolt upright in bed, climbed up into the cab, and watched him trudge through what must be more than a foot of snow toward the truck stop. 

My shoes were on the floor, and my bag right next to them. I thought about grabbing them and getting the fuck out before he returned. The fantasy of being "caught" in diapers, by a hot guy, is just that - a fantasy. The reality is that it is uncomfortable as fuck. Had it not been for a foot of snow, ice, and the fact that this kid just seemed dope as fuck, I would certainly have been out. 

I sat in the passenger seat. A few minutes later he came back and climbed up into the cab. 

"You're not thinking of leaving are you?" he asked me. He looked worried and sounded sad. I shook my head, but I had been mulling it over... it was snowing less now and it looked like cars were able to drive on the road that passed us. 

"Nah, man..." I replied. "I don't think - "

"Good!" Kyle interrupted me, sounding relieved. "I'm glad, because I want to ask you a question. Is that okay?" 

"A question?" 

"A question. About that thing." He nodded towards my midsection. "Is that okay?" 

I nodded. I honestly couldn't believe this was happening... 

"I was wondering, since I invited you to spend the night, and made you coffee, and stuff... and since it's my truck..." 

TO BE CONTINUED... 

SPECIAL THANKS TO MOJO FOR THE PHOTO

Christmas Contest?

A few weeks ago I mentioned in a blog entry that I hoped to do a holiday-themed mini-contest. I later became aware of one that a Tumblr blogger is doing. Contests are hard to run, and very time-consuming, and I don't want my contest to interfere with the Tumblr one, or vice-versa. I'll be announcing a new contest in 2014 - sponsors, hit me up! - but, in the meantime, encourage everyone to check out the holiday-themed contest on Tumblr, and take part if you're up to it.

I'd hoped to link to it here but lost the link, if someone knows it please email me (abysitter@gmail.com) or post it in the comments, and I will update this entry with it.

Baby Pictures: Diapered_Bottom

UPDATE! My mistake - he's actually looking for a mommy! So any mommies out there looking for new friends...

Up today I have a few diaper close-ups from @diapered_bottom. You can click the link to the left and view his Twitter account, where you'll find more. He's an AB in his 40s in the midwest interested in a mommy, and he's looking for friends. If you're on Twitter, tweet him up!

Thanks for the pictures.

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Hall of Shame: Edmonton

Another day, another creep in our community making us all look bad. A nice reference to the ABDL community at the end...

Remember: keep it 18+. Always. 

Sigh...

Edmonton sicko facing jail sentence | Edmonton | News | Edmonton Sun

"In 2007, police raided Windsor's home and seized 1,100 DVDs and CDs with titles such as Incest, Teen Tryout and Little Girls, eight large "child" dolls and adult diapers. Police also discovered he was using an eBay account to buy adult diapers from "DiaperDad1," an online store selling diapers to the "adult baby" community."

From Benjamin Button

abysitter shared a post with you Open Open in app abenjaminbutton Balance Something I've been thinking a lot about lately is finding balance in both satisfying my AB/DL needs and pursuing my hopes and dreams. As much as we'd all like to be adopted by someone and padded daily for the rest of our lives, do we still take the time to think about what else we want to do? I just turned 20 and am in college, so having bi-weekly existential meltdowns should come as no surprise to all the full grown folks out there. Lately it seems like all the flowers have wilted away and the brick wall of reality has stacked itself all around me. And so as I retreat into my little side to get away from things, I actually learn something about myself and this cool community. As I read through all the fun stories and AB life hacks on blogs like abysitter's or see all the adorable pictures on minimaxkiddo's page (not to forget all the drawn artwork on deviant), I'm reminded that so many of us are artists. It takes a special mind to be able to retreat into a childlike state of purity and calm instead of falling on more destructive vices like drugs and alcohol. Shouldn't we have an advantage over other people for that reason? There's a balance to be found in existing as a little. There's both a good way and a bad way to take advantage of who we are. The bad way is to always retreat into our little side, taking a fearful approach to all that life throws at us. But on the other hand we can use our littleness to catch our breath, find comfort when the going gets rough, and then emerge from within ourselves and do great things. We can go out into the world and express the skills we have to make ourselves a community of creators, problem solvers, and doers. #abdl 8 notes ATTN: Tumblrbot  35 East 21st St, 10th Floor  New York, NY 10010

Laundry Mishaps...

I usually do my own laundry at the laundromat in town. My place is too small for a washer/dryer, so I go to the laundromat weekly. I go to the one with the regular attendant. Because otherwise, laundromats in Orlando are the chill spots for homeless panhandlers and people who would like to steal your clothes...

Sometimes when things get busy I have them do the wash and fold. Usually costs me about double, but time is money, so when I'm running short on time I spend the money. My regular laundry lady knows my clothes better than I do; for example, she knows which shirts not to put in the dryer and hang, and she folds everything so much neater than I could ever hope to do.

Over the last three years I've lived in my new place she's gotten to know me well enough to know that there might be a surprise in my hamper from time to time. Like the time she washed and folded my plastic pants. Or another time when she remarked about my incredible collection of cartoon underwear lol.

But when I went earlier this week, nothing prepared me for what I saw sitting on top of my laundry basket: my "MY MOMMY THINKS I'M SPECIAL" T (purchased for Road Trip 2006) - and my paci and paci clip. EEK!

On the weekends I put that shirt on, diaper up, and spend most of my free time sucking on that pacifier. I even take my pacifier around town on my days off, although with a different, less in-your-face shirt and the paci tucked in. Usually, on laundry day, I remember to take the pacifier clip off and throw it in my diaper bag. Looks like I forgot...

"Awwwwww," the laundry lady said. "I just love your mom'a sense of humor."

Right. My mom probably wouldn't laugh if she saw me in that outfit. But I'm glad I have a chill laundry lady at least. Just wanted to share that with y'all.

LOLLERS...

A friend of mine posted this on Facebook and I thought it was cute. I think I'd like to slap one of these in the back of my car. Except it is sort of a lie... hehe...

Baby Pictures: Mojo

Up today I have a set of cute pictures from Mojo. Mojo is a 22 year-old AB from Alberta, Canada. You may remember him under the names SportBaby and MojoBeenieBaby. He's also entered my contests on a few occasions. He always comes up with cute stuff.

If you'd like to follow him, he's on Tumblr:

http://mojo-the-great.tumblr.com/

Now for the adorableness... some underwear+diaper pictures, y'all know I love that. Thanks, Mojo!!

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WANT TO SHARE PICTURES WITH MY READERS?

18+ & YOU ONLY

PLEASE EMAIL ME AT:

abysitter@gmail.com

YOUR PICS ARE DEFINITELY APPRECIATED!

Help Me With My AGE & ABDL and BE RESPONSIBLE! Entries?

Thanks to everyone who has gotten at me with offers to make a sign. I'm at work on the first blog entry now, and will be getting ahold of you each with some ideas for what I need.

FOR ANYONE ELSE WHO HAS A CAMERA AND THE WILLINGNESS TO HOLD A SIGN (YOU CAN PRINT IT OFF THE COMPUTER, NOTHING FANCY) TO GO ALONG WITH AN IMPORTANT BLOG ENTRY ON AGE & ABDL (AND A SECOND ENTRY ON BEING RESPONSIBLE MEMBERS OF OUR COMMUNITY) JUST SEND ME AN EMAIL AND I'LL RESPOND WITH WHAT I'M LOOKING FOR.

abysitter@gmail.com

ALL AGES & BODY TYPES & SCENES WELCOME!

Arrested For Public Urination - In A Diaper???

This story has been sent to me by several of you over the past few days. It appears to be nothing more than an oddball attempt at humor. (Let's hope!)

Three Women Arrested for Public Urination at Target While Waiting for Black Friday Opening | Rock City Times

http://www.rockcitytimes.com/women-arrested-public-urination-target-waiting-black-friday-opening/

Baby Pictures: Baby Spencey

Up today I have the latest contribution from Baby Spencey! Spencer is a former collegebaby in the midwest - he graduated this year, woo hoo go Spencer! - who's contributed to this blog an impressive number of times. Spencey has been sending in pictures since 2010, but it's been just over a year since his last photos graced this blog (except for his contest entry), so I'm excited to have some new ones - hit baby pics are always adorable.

You can view the whole Baby Spencey series here. I'll have some more Spencey pictures next week, and a bunch of pictures from other guest contributors, as well. 

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