[Author's Note: to those who are interested in Laura and David's developing relationship, I apologize. As you may know, and if you don't, why not? I tend to have several storylines going. But I have always been fascinated by matriarchal families (my wife wears the pants in our family) and, well, anyway, here you are. I promise I won't take as long until the next episode.]
There are times when the double negative is the best way to express something in the English language. As I woke, slowly, hung over a bit with a sore asshole, sore cock, and aching head, I realized she had been right. Overnight I had no control and my diaper, I don't know what else to call adult pullups, was full. When I moved, feeling for her and finding the bed empty, there was a not unpleasant (I told you, the double negative is sometimes best) sensation as the load in my diaper smeared around.
I searched for the muscles and squeezed my asshole shut, glad that it wasn't some sort of permanent damage. Then I thought, "fuck it," and relaxed. A lifetime of training can be hard to overcome but as I lay there, my head on the pillow, my eyes closed, I didn't push, but deliberately relaxed and after a while, my need to pee overcame my training. The feeling of warm wetness spreading was actually very pleasant, and I was smiling as my bladder slowly emptied.
I realized that I had crossed a bridge that I might not be able to cross back. Looking back, I'm sure the drugs she had given me were still working. I didn't care. I liked it.
After a while, I'm not sure how long, you know how it is when you're hungover and still a bit drunk, I rolled over, sat up, and stood beside the bed. In the process, I felt shit smearing and flashed on the image of what it must look like. But I got to my feet, a bit unsteadily, and went in search of my hostess.
I caught myself walking a little funny with the sodden diaper on. I knew, on some level, that the drugs were still working on me. I just didn't care.
In the kitchen, I poured a glass of orange juice and drank it greedily. I was dehydrated I suppose.
I heard a voice and followed it down the hall.
Laura was sitting in front of her computer screen looking very professional in her dark suit jacket, blindingly white blouse, and a tasteful string of pearls. Her hair was done up, not one out of place. Certainly no hint of what we had done last night. She was concentrating on a mirror, putting the finishing touches on her makeup.
I guess movement caught her eye because she looked up and flashed The Grin.
"Oh good," she said, "you're up. Come here, sweety. I have a meeting in a minute or so and I was getting afraid I'd have to get my Silver Bullet to make it through."
As I came around the desk I could see she had nothing on below the jacket. Obviously a teleconference meeting.
"Under the desk, baby," she said, "Quick now, they're about to start the meeting and God knows I need a distraction."
I chuckled and crawled under the desk.
Laura is one of those women whose body fat settles in one place. In her case, it was thick thighs and thick, meaty nether lips. The pubic hair of that little triangle on her mons was very dark and very coarse, but the lips themselves were very smooth. I wondered if there had been lasers involved. Certainly, it was nothing as crude as a razor.
I started kissing the inside of her thighs, brushing my cheeks against them, urging her, with my movements, to part her legs some more.
I heard the computer speaker, a man's voice, say, "Good morning everyone, shall we get started?"
While he was talking I began licking. She scooted forward in her chair, making it easier for me, her ass barely on the seat and her pussy available. As they called the roll I kept slowly licking and when she said "Laura," I nipped at the inner lips peeking out making her draw a quick intake of breath before she got, "Morgan," out. She covered with a little cough and a quick, "excuse me."
