Peaches and Cream

Despite it being "so late" for Gina, her mother usually putting her to bed at 9 pm, and it's now 10:15, her mom moves Gina from the changing table back into her stroller.

Gina really dislikes how she now thinks of things as 'her diaper', 'her stroller', 'her bedtime' but there wasn't much use in mentally challenging this infantile lifestyle being foisted upon her.

She is getting strolled to the kitchen, Tom takes this time to bolt back to his room. The thick diaper cream she's plastered in makes the seat gooey and sticky, her diaper clinging to her very-recently intimate areas. Those orgasms. It had been so long that even just those two times she came still had her feeling floaty and satisfied. She didn't even notice the bib getting tied around her neck, but the bonnet brought her back to planet earth, keeping "her hair out of the way" but also working as blinders, the brim narrowing her vision forward.

Her mom sat at the table, bowl and bottle waiting. Gina could tell the orangy goo wasn't some meat mixture with a startch or grain, and almost looked forward to eating, but the uncomfortable grip of her diaper, sticking and peeling as she squirmed in her seat, as if her diaper could think and was trying to grab her for her direct attention. To her mom, Gina looked a little fussy and attributed it to being overtired and hungry. She scooped up a spoonful of the orange mush to give Gina.

Gina wasn't having it, she couldn't find a comfortable way to sit and just wanted another orgasm, her face turning side to side as avoided the sweet syrup smelling goo.

"C'mon, faster you eat your num nums the faster you can get to bed, I know you're all pooped out after today." Cooed Samantha as she moved the spoon around to hit the moving target.

Gina was having none of it, "Nuh, nuh, mi nee ni gash." She babbled, trying to straightforwardly confess to her own mother, No, No, I need another orgasm.

Of course her mother wasn't going to make sense of Gina's babbles, and she had a firm policy to not negotiate with terrorists, this radical trying to get out going to bed and attack Samatha's freedom to curl up with a glass of wine and a good vibrator.

Gina's nose was grabbed, keeping her face in one spot and making her mouth open to get the orange mush in it. It was pretty good, delightful even, mashed and blended peaches. Gina was distracted from her sinful lust as she now focused on eating.

From there it was much easier to feed Gina, only needing to deal with messy drool and not having a moving target on top of it. The bib served it's purpose thoroughly. Samantha scrapped the bottom of the bowl to finish off the goop before testing if the bottle had cooled enough, satisfied she held it for her adult daughter to suckle on.

(Comment on the next Gina-sitter, or if we want to see trips to the mall/park, do a dream sequence where adult and baby gina have it out, or see something else)