Diapers was a girl I took out fairly often. She was a cute, sweet, young thing that always seemed happy. She was in her early twenties, had a one-year-old son, and no husband or boyfriend in her life. She lived with her parents who helped care for her baby. Diapers carried around a few extra pounds. Like most heavier girls, she had a wonderfully large set of tits.
I was beginning to really appreciate bigger girls and their big tits.
The first time I picked Diapers up for a date, her father and mother had a very unusual talk with me. They told me their daughter was free to do anything she liked. I just needed to be certain she got home safely. Her father even made a point of telling me, "...she's been fixed." I had a hard time believing what these parents were telling me. Were they saying it was ok to fuck their daughter, as long as I brought her home safely? I sure seemed like it.
Diapers got her handle from me. It came from a near accident, which resulted in another accident.
We had been riding around town one evening in my classic '66 Dodge Charger. We were chatting on the CB with her parents and some of my friends. We scared the hell out of all of them when, over the air, they heard my tires squeal, Diapers scream, and me yell, "OH SHIT!"
Diapers parents, and a number of my CB friends, immediately wanted to know what happened and were we were all right.