Ashley's mama

As a remote programmer, I had it all figured out. My wife, Ashley, was beautiful, big-breasted, blonde, and had a perfectly proportioned figure. I worked a few hours a day and the rest of the time I just did whatever I wanted. We didn’t have kids, which was a given as a lesbian couple with time but not possible for Ashley, so we spent our money on ourselves.

Her bad habit was traveling. She was always on the road for work. Sometimes in Europe, sometimes in Asia, and I had several annual trips to Las Vegas for some stupid convention. It left me feeling lonely and wallowing in my sin—diapers. I had a nocturnal emission problem during adolescence that would rear its ugly head from time to time, usually when I was drinking too much. This exposed me to the solution I eventually came up with—diapers. Now, as an adult, I was always alone buying and selling diapers. It was my forbidden escape, my stress reliever.

One day, when I was home alone and Ashley was away on a business trip, I was sitting in the living room with a very wet diaper on a towel on the couch. I had my laptop hooked up to the big screen TV. A diaper porn movie was playing on the TV. A naked woman playing the role of “mommy” was giving “milk” to little girls. I had my hands in my diaper and was watching the sexy scene on the screen, immersed in the moment, as I was approaching orgasm. That’s why I didn’t hear the garage door open or Ashley quietly enter the room.

Ashley yelled, “What’s going on here, Kara? Are you doing this when I’m not home?”