Sometimes, strangers meet up in a bar, connect on many levels, and have what's called a one night stand. This is the story of two such individuals. Enjoy. I welcome feedback
He was enjoying a pint of India Pale Ale at the back of ZuuBar, his favourite drinking establishment. From his vantage point, he had a good view of most of the bar’s area, except for a small area to the right of the entrance. From experience, he knew nothing much happened there. He came to this bar often, either after work, or just for a quick one in the evening. He usually drank by himself, enjoying the time-honoured activity of “people watching”. He wasn’t a loner, not really, but he found making friends difficult. He didn’t have anyone particular in his life either, mostly because he could not be bothered. It didn’t help that he was a bit lazy and hadn’t really looked for Mrs. Right. He wasn’t sure there was such a person as Mrs. Right in any case. He enjoyed a bit of fun here and there, but was quite happy to be on his own. He was, after all, a man of habit, of routine and was getting set in his ways.
His drink nearly finished, he pondered getting a refill. As soon as he had decided on going home, his eye caught a glimpse of a very pretty girl coming in through the entrance. He’d never seen her here, which means she wasn’t a regular. She was with a woman he vaguely recognised, not a regular, but not a complete stranger either. He noticed they weren’t holding hands. “That’s a good sign”, he thought. He was oft concerned that two women going out together to a bar might mean they’d be an item. He was not bothered by lesbian couples, but if half of the couple looked really attractive, he knew he had no chance to end up with a date.
He waved his now empty glass in the air. His signal caught the bartender’s attention. She grinned and nodded at him, then lifted her hand in his direction with three fingers standing up. He knew he’d wait a few minutes for his drink, but was quite happy not to have to leave his spot. The bar staff didn’t usually do table service, but they made an exception for a few of the regulars, including him. While waiting for his beer to be delivered, he looked more closely at the women.
By now, they had settled themselves at the bar, and were chatting. The semi-regular was facing the bar, while the woman who had caught his eye was sitting on the stool, with her back leaning against the bar. She wasn’t very tall. She wasn’t very big either. “Petite” came to mind when he looked at her. She wore a white blouse that looked like Chinese silk. The blouse managed to be both form fitting and bulky at the same time. It clung to her every moves. It was, he thought, a very appealing effect. She also wore a short black leather skirt. It wasn’t one of those tasteless leather mini-skirt numbers you see all too often. It came to just above her knees, followed her form, but didn’t hug her tightly. She didn’t appear to wear nylons. On her feet, she wore MaryJanes. It seemed incongruous to see that style shoes on her feet. It was, in his opinion, more of a school-girl shoe than a grown up’s. Yet, it worked well for her.
Her hair was a light auburn colour. She wore it in a short bob that well framed her face. He couldn’t tell her eye colour from where he was sitting. He imagined them to be brown. Her nose was slender. Her mouth was full, not overly big, and hadn’t stopped smiling since he first saw her. Her hands were also small, fitting the rest of her body. Her nails were long, painted a discreet shade of pink. It was difficult to tell what her breast were like, due to her blouse, but while they didn’t appear very large, there was a definite presence there.
His examination confirmed his first impression: She was a very attractive woman. She had a youthful, yet mature appearance. He guessed her age to be around 30 years old. His daydreaming was interrupted when the bartender walked in his field of vision with his drink.
He asked the bartender if she knew the two women in question. She explained that Tammy, the girl who caught his eye, used to be a regular, but had moved out of town a couple years ago. The other one was Gloria (“just Glo”). The bartender offered to introduce them, and he agreed, if it was convenient for her. She said she would do it in a little bit.
He drank some of his beer. He ate some peanuts and threw the shells on the ground. Messy business, but everyone did it. Even the bar staff! On his first visits, he had been careful to put the shells on the table, but the bar staff would invariably sweep them to the floor at regular intervals. He had given up on being a tidy peanut eater in this particular drinking establishment.
Half-way through his ale, he saw the bartender finally leading Glo and Tammy to him. He flushed slightly, they were quite a sight. “Hello again Jim”, the bartender said, “as promised, I’d like to introduce you to Glo, whom you’ve likely seen around, and to Tammy, who used to spend even more time here than you do! But you’ll have to excuse me, I have to run, people are thirsty.” And with that, she left the three newly acquainted customers to their own devices.
“Have a seat”, he said, “and forgive me for not getting up. My legs don’t work quite as well as they used to”. He waved vaguely towards his legs and wheelchair. Both women’s eyes followed his hand motion. Tammy’s eyes lingered a bit, holding an expression he couldn’t decipher. Glo just averted her eyes quickly. They both sat down, but Glo pointed out that she actually couldn’t stay long, as she had a date to go to the movies across town.
Jim could catch a small glance up Tammy’s skirt because of the way she sat. He didn’t want to be too obvious about it, but was quite curious to see a purple pair of underwear that looked rather thick for undies. He was puzzled, yet couldn’t figure it out without being overt, and he certainly didn’t appreciate people being blatant about his wheels. He’d ask later, if the opportunity presented itself, if he felt he got to know her well enough.
They talked about their “relationship” with the ZuuBar, comparing notes about how long they had been customers, which staff they knew (some of them long gone), which other regulars were common acquaintances. They basically kept the small talk going for a few minutes, warming up to more personal information. Before long, Glo stood up. “It’s been fun”, she said, “but I must run if I want to make it in time”.
“Have fun Glo, don’t be a stranger next time you see me”, Jim said. Tammy told her friend that she’d ring her on the morrow. Tammy took the last sip of her Long Island Iced Tea, which was served in a rather large preserving jar. She offered to grab him another beer while she was getting herself a new drink, and he agreed, only if he could return the favour at the next round. “Yes, if there’s a next round, you’ll be welcome to buy me a drink”, Tammy said. With that, she smiled, turned on her heels, and went to the bar with a bounce in her steps.
Jim watched her go. He found her very attractive. His pulse actually quickened, and his mind took directions that might leave him disappointed. It wasn’t just her body (though that part alone was enough to interest any sensible man, or woman for that matter). Her smile was warm, her eyes were shining, and her laugh infectious. She appeared comfortable with herself, and also comfortable with him.
He couldn’t help taking stock. He was in his mid 30’s. His hair was short, blond, thick, and unruly. His eyes went from grey in sunlight to blue in darker environment. When measured from his heels to the top of his head, he was 5’ 11”. But in the chair, he was a full 19” shorter. He was generally thin, no weight problem, though since his injury, his abdomen had developed a bit of a pouch. His upper body was strong and looked it, but it wasn’t bulging. He had always been built for stamina more than sheer brute strength. His hands were neither big, nor small, but well muscled. His face was oval, and soft. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, but since his beard didn’t grow fast, it wasn’t too bad. Some people said that his few days’ growth looked really dirty. But others said that it made him look really sexy, like that old trend started by the cops on Don Johnson on Miami Vice in the 80’s. He wore Levy’s 501, black leather shoes, a forest green turtleneck with a light grey shirt over it. He thought of that as “casual clean”, good for working from his home office and meeting the occasional well known client.
He was reasonably self-confident, but couldn’t help being hesitant when it came time to meet new people. Particularly if they were really attractive women that he would like to take home for a few hours of fun. In the few years he had been using a wheelchair, he had learned that many people had a funny reaction to his wheels. Some even went as far as crossing the street in order to avoid him, as if he was contagious.
His chair made a statement in and of itself. It was a rigid frame affair, with very small front wheels. In fact, the front wheels were roller blade wheels, mounted on a springed fork. The back wheels were bigger than the usual wheelchair wheels, and mounted at an angle. His backrest was as low on his back as his injury. He didn’t have push handles, in fact, he abhorred people trying to push him around. He feet rested on a plate straight below his knees. His chair was able to turn on a dime. The majority of people seeing that chair thought it was a “sport’s chair”, or a “racing chair”. In fact, it was just a sporty every day chair. Bit like owning a Porsche to get around town.
Tammy was coming back, holding another “iced tea” in one hand, his beer in the other, and a wicker basket full of peanuts balanced between both hands. She was frowning and obviously concentrating on not dropping anything. The table was only knee-high, and instead of bending down to deposit her loot, she bent at the knees. His eyes had the chance of another quick peek at the mysterious purple underwear. She sat down, and wiggled in her seat a little bit, saying “I ought to go to the loo soon”.
He reached for a peanut in the basket. As soon as he started moving, she was reaching into the basket too. Her hand touched his. He felt a shiver run up his arm and down his back. He was electrified. She smiled at him. “Is she actually flirting with me, or was that an accident?”, he wondered. He cracked the peanut’s shell, ate it. Had a few sips of beer. She had a few sips of her drink.
They were talking about favourite movies, favourite books, favourite music. They didn’t have a lot in common in either of those areas, though they did find a few overlaps. He preferred rock, she preferred world music. They both agreed on Supertramp. He liked the big action blockbusters, she preferred the old movies of the French Nouvelle Vague. They both agreed on Tarrantino. He liked murder mysteries, she preferred biographies. They both agreed on Tolkien.
She reached for the peanuts again. Picked a couple, cracked their shell open. She then extended her hand to him with the peanuts, ready to eat. He smiled, reached out. She winked, closed her hand but left it there, in the air. He shrugged. She opened her hand again, and closed it as soon as he reached for it. She laughed. He laughed. He grabbed her wrist, and gently forced her hand open, retrieving what had become the most inaccessible peanuts he’d come across. She gasped a little bit. She smiled. Her eyes focused on him. He ate the peanuts. “More please”, he said. She looked up sharply. She didn’t say a thing, reached out and shelled a few more peanuts for him.
She got up, grabbed her bag, and said: “I’ll be right back, I need a diaper change”. She walked away towards the toilets, leaving him wondering. It may not have been a joke, after all. He did notice that her underwear seemed a little thick, though he had never seen purple diapers before. This could turn out to be a rather interesting meeting if things shaped up the way they were apparently going. She had responded well to his soft order. If she was wearing diapers, she might be on the kinky side. Of course, it could be that she had a medical condition of some sort, but he didn’t think Tammy would have been that open announcing it to a near complete stranger. In any case, if she wore nappies because of a medical issue, it didn’t phase him. He had to use intermittent catherisation himself since his injury.
It wasn’t long before she was back, still with a swing in her step. She sat, announced she felt a whole lot better. “Forgive my nosiness”, he said, “but why did you announce you needed a diaper change? Were you serious, or simply jesting? If you *are* wearing diapers, would you mind telling me why? I don’t have a problem with it, I’m just really curious.” She looked at him, opened her mouth as if about to say something, and stopped. She laid back in her seat. She took a deep breath.
“No, I wasn’t joking. I am currently wearing a diaper. I have no idea why I told you I was changing. This is not something I’ve told my family and friends, and telling a stranger is really unlike me. Perhaps I feel safer because you aren’t in my close circle of friends, and other than Glo, who is unflappable, you don’t know anyone that knows me. I don’t know.”
She reached for her nearly finished drink. She looked at him as she drank three long mouthfuls. “You’ll think I’m fit for a padded cell”, she continued, “but I actually enjoy wearing, and wetting, I must admit, diapers. It is a sensual experience for me. It is also a comforting one. I’m not into scat, I’m not into golden showers. I am not what some call an Adult Baby, and I most certainly am not turned on by kids. I am weird, yes, but who says being weird is such a bad thing? Heck, now that I’ve admitted my diaper interest to you, I might as well tell you that I happen to have all kind of kinks to boot. I like the smell and feel of leather. I like domination and submission kind of mind play. I like to tie my partners up. But then, I like to be tied up by my partners as well, preferably not at the same time”, she added as she winked.
He asked her for a few details. He was pleasantly surprised about all this information. It sounded like they were on the same wavelength in terms of sexual play, unlike their reading, movie and musical taste. He found himself rather aroused by Tammy, particularly at the thought that they shared some kinks. He was about to go get another drink for them both, when she said: “Let’s get out of here, find a more private place?”
And so they did. He unlocked his wheels, and made his way around the table, pushed through a couple seats that were too close one to another. She got up and appeared a little unsteady on her feet. “I’m not drunk, but I am a bit tipsy”, she explained, “I am, however, rather excited”. Jim pointed out that he felt the same way, but that he was definitely past his limit for driving. They waved at the bartender on their way out. By the time they had reached the door, they’d decided to flag a taxi and go back to her hotel room.
As was often the case on a Thursday evening, there were no taxi to be found. One slowed down, and when the driver saw the wheelchair, wound down his window and said that he was on call and couldn’t stop to pick them up, and sped away. The air temperature was decidedly cool, almost chilly. Jim looked up at Tammy, who was frowning. When she noticed him looking, she blushed, and explained that with all the iced tea she had drunk, and all the water before that, she was filling her diaper just as fast as it cold absorb liquid. He laughed at her and teased her: “Don’t you start making sloshing sounds when you walk!” She turned a deeper shade of pink, but laughed good naturedly.
She took his hand and they sat there a few minutes, looking at traffic, waiting for an empty taxi to show up. They didn’t have to say anything, they both knew that they needed to find a place to be private and comfortable soon, as they were both really turned on by the other. She let go of Jim, and said she’d go in and try to get the bartender to ring for a car.
She came back a couple minutes later. He grabbed her and had her sit in his lap. He wrapped his arms around her waist. His mouth was not very far from her breast. He could feel her warm breath on his face. “We shouldn’t get carried away just now, the taxi could and *should* be here any moment now”. He agreed with Tammy. And sure enough, the taxi turned up moments later.
As he lined himself to get in the backseat, she asked him how she could help. He told her that there wasn’t much for her to do, other than take the wheels off and hand them to the driver, who’d put the frame and wheels in the boot. He showed her how to release the wheels by pressing on the axle’s centre knob. The driver was impressed that the chair was so light. “The last wheelchair I loaded was really heavy, and you had to fold it by the fabric seat. And it was big, and heavy, and it didn’t fit in my car, nope, it didn’t fit. This is neat”, he said. Tammy got in the car, beside Jim. They pressed one against another. She gave the driver the name and address of her hotel, and with a gruff nod, he put the vehicle in motion.
Jim very much wanted to reach and touch her breast, but he was well aware that the cabbie probably could have seen that in his rear-view mirror. Instead, he bent down and kissed her neck. She shivered, and stopped him. She couldn’t take any of this until they could proceed, she said. Just to be contrary, he bit her earlobe. This time, she gasped and shuddered. She whispered to him: “I’m soooooo turned on. I haven’t told anyone before about my diapers and how they made me feel. Not in ‘real life’. Not to a gorgeous guy who’s interested in me. This is very exciting. I have a very wet diaper, and not all of it is due to what I drank this evening. I can’t wait for you to touch me”. Feeling like being contrary was the right thing to do again, he leaned away from her and announced that if that was the case, she’d have to wait a bit longer.
She laughed. She punched him on the shoulder. They smiled. The cabbie appeared not to be paying attention, listening to the rugby on the radio. Jim squeezed her knee gently.
The sexual tension was high. They arrived at the hotel, and were lucky to discover that Jim could actually get into the lobby. It took Tammy a few tries before she was able to put the wheels back on the chair. She was fumbling and trembling. She mumbled to him, trying to not be heard by the taxi driver. “I can’t concentrate on this task, I want to be in bed with you, NOW!”. He was in no better shape and nearly landed on the floor on his butt when he attempted the transfer. He caught himself in time, tried again and got it right that time.
They went in the lobby. As they passed the reception desk, the agent waved at her and said there were packages for her. As they were heading straight for the elevator, Tammy said she’d pick them in the morning. The elevator arrived. An elderly couple was in. The couple signalled to them that they should come in the elevator. As they did, the man said that this was their floor after all. The lift was so small that Jim had to get out again, while Tammy held the door open. They looked at each other and sighed. These delays were frustrating.
Tammy punched the button for the 3 rd floor, where her room was. “I’ve never done this”, she exclaimed, “I’ve actually never brought anyone ‘home’ for sex within just a few hours of meeting them. But gosh Jim, I want you! I trust you. And why is this elevator taking *forever*”. They reached her floor. They made their way to her room. He had too fight a very thick carpet with a thicker foam pad. It was certainly lush to walk on, and hell to wheel on. Plus the carpet’s pile forced his chair towards the left wall, he had to work hard at keeping a straight line.
“Room 307, that’s us, finally!”
“Tammy, are you sure?”
She fumbled with the door. She swore at the key lock. She swore at the swipe card. She fumbled some more. He laughed at her. She swore at him. She laughed. She took a deep breath, bent down, kissed him on the nose and tried the door again, more calmly this time. It worked. The door was a bit too narrow, but Jim forced his wheelchair through, scraping the handrims a little bit.
The moment the door closed behind them, he reached and held Tammy by the waist, and kissed her breast through her silk blouse. His head was, after all, at just the right height for that. She was on the side of his wheelchair, he was turned at the waist. With one hand still holding her waist, his mouth on her left breast, he used the other hand to go up her skirt, using his nails gently against the bare skin. She moaned. His hand went all the way up and touched her diaper. It felt rather full, but not quite ready to leak. With the flat of his hand, he gave a slap to her diaper, and maintained pressure. He felt her knees buckle under her, and he had to hold her up by the waist.
“Ohhh Jim, you’re driving me nuts. I love what you’ve just done. But I really should go shower before we go further”. He didn’t say anything in response, he just pulled her on his lap, and pushed his wheelchair towards the bed. He removed her shirt, threw it over his shoulder. Her blouse had been hiding two full breasts, encased in a silk bra. He caressed her flanks, and could feel more than see the goose bumps on her skin. She kissed his neck, and he told her to stop. She was to just let him do what he wanted with him. The thought of him being in control that way made her moan.
He told her to stand, she did. He told her to turn around, she did. He unzipped her skirt, and pulled it off. He made her sit on the bed and put her feet in his lap, she did. She was watching his every move. Her lips were trembling, her body quivering softly. He unbuckled the left shoe, slowly, touching her ankle, caressing her calf. He pulled the shoe off, and threw it over his shoulder, like her blouse moments earlier. They heard a crash, and the sound of something breaking. They laughed.
He tickled her foot. She jumped nearly 6 feet in the air, and was about to reflexively kick him in the face when he grabbed her ankle. That’s when the realized how strong he was. Her foot couldn’t go anywhere, he was much stronger than she was. She leaned back on her hands. The feel of his strong hands on her foot increased her desire. His hands were callused, but soft at the same time. He removed her right shoe the same way he had done the left. Sexual tension kept mounting.
He told her to sit up and remove her bra. She reached behind her, and unclasped the strap. He reached and took the bra off her by pulling its centre. There she was, completely naked except for her thick diaper. Her nipples were hard, and erect. Her areolas weren’t much darker than her skin.
He enjoyed the sight. He could feel his own desire build up. This was going to be good. He couldn’t feel orgasms as he had in the past, before his injury. But if sexual tension build like this, he knew he would have a very enjoyable time, and probably an orgasmic release as well. He was looking forward to it.
“How does it feel to be standing naked and diapered in front of me?”, he asked. As she was about to say something, he shushed her, and told her to *show* him how it felt, not tell him. She nodded. She reached her right nipple with her left hand, and gently rolled it under her fingers. She used her right hand to reach in her diaper. She moaned. He told her to continue doing what she was doing, but to turn around and bend down against the bed. As she did that, he positioned himself right behind her, and used both his hands to caress her inner thighs, her back, her flanks. He alternated using the tip of his fingers, the flat of his strong hands, the edge of his nails. He went from a pressure so light that she barely knew if he was touching her, to scratching her hard enough to leave welts on her skin. She didn’t care about welts. She loved his touch. She was building waves on waves of pleasure.
When he smacked her hard on her butt with his hand, she cried out. “No, no, nononoyesyesyes YESSSS, pleeease”. He kept on spanking her through the diaper, as she was obviously masturbating herself within the diaper. It wasn’t long that she shuddered and relaxed on the bed, with a satisfied sigh.
She looked at him. “How did you know to do that? How did you know it’s been one of my fantasies?”, she asked. He didn’t know, but it seemed like the right thing to do. She smiled lacively at him. He smiled back. With a soft tap on her rump, he told her to take the diaper off, have a quick shower and come back to him. “It wouldn’t be fair if only *you* had fun tonight”, he said, adding that the concept of fun was very lose anyway as he thoroughly enjoyed seeing her enjoy herself so much.
While she was in the shower, he undressed himself. First his shirt, which went the way a shoe and a blouse already did. Then his turtleneck. He transferred to the bed, and leaning back on it, he removed his pants. He had to move and shift his weight from left to right and back again to be able to remove it. His boxers came off with the pants. His jeans got caught on his shoes, which he hadn’t removed. He was about to fight with his legs to reach the shoe laces when she came out of the shower, and offered to help him with it.
She kneeled in front of him. He bent down to kiss her tenderly. They stayed in that position for a moment. She untied his shoes, and pulled them off one at a time. She finished removing his pants for him. She noticed he didn’t have an erection. “Do you have any feeling in that area? Can you get hard?” He explained that no, he didn’t have any feeling in his lower body, from about the belly button down, and that while he sometimes could get hard, he couldn’t orgasm in the “traditional” way. He pulled himself back on the bed properly, on top of the cover. She laid down beside him, on her side. Her head was on his chest, her shoulder in his armpit. Her chest against his, and he could feel the pressure of one of her leg wrapped against his legs. This was comfortable, he thought.
She started tracing different patterns on his chest with her finger. Each time she reached one of his nipples, he caught his breath. His nipples were very sensitive. They always had been, but were even more so since his injury. She quickly noticed that he enjoyed her playing with his nipples. “It’s good you like it when I touch you there, because I like to touch you there. And I like it when you touch me on my nipples. So we’re a good match”, she finished as she pinched his right nipple.
They talked softly in that position, sometimes kissing, sometimes joking. Generally just enjoying the other’s body. Eventually, their patting became more intense. Their kissing more fierce. She climbed on top of him, straddling him. He reached to her breast with one hand, to her clitoris with the other. She leaned back, thrusting her pelvis forward, throwing her head back, holding herself up on her arms. She squeezed his body with her knees. He inserted a finger in her, while still using his thumb to excite her clitoris. She was very wet. He inserted another finger in her, she gasped. Her hips were moving fast, in syncopated rhythm. Not quite going in circle, not quite moving back and forth.
He could feel her clamp on his fingers, and tremble within. But she sat up, pulled his hand out, leaned on him, and started nibbling on his nipples, and then on his earlobes. She kissed his neck, she kissed his mouth. She bit his lip, she pinched his nipple. She played with him like that for a while and allowed his pleasure to mount. They were both on the verge.
And then they both came. Not together, not exactly, but one after the other. They both relaxed. They fell asleep for a few moments. He forced himself awake, and woke her up too. He had to go to the ‘loo. And while he was in there, he told her to diaper herself again, but not to put anything else on. She smiled, and said “Ok”.
He came back in the bedroom, and she was already under the blanket. She had turned the corner so he could slip in more easily. He positioned his chair near the bed. He laughed, told her that he had no energy left to do the transfer, and that if he broke a hip falling on the ground, it was her fault. Finally, they were both in bed, under the blanket. “If I smoked, I’d need a cigarette”, he said, “as it is, I could use a chocolate chip cookie or three”. They laughed.
“Do you know that we don’t even know each other’s last name”, she said. He didn’t see a problem with that. He didn’t see a problem with not knowing how to contact each other either, other than by going to ZuuBar. They agreed that it made things somewhat exciting. They drifted off to sleep.
In the morning, they weren’t feeling awkward, as so often happens with one-night-stands. They dressed, talked about ordering room service, but opted against it. They were both going to be late. They hugged. They promised each other to make a point of bumping into one another again at the bar, and that hopefully it wouldn’t be too long before it happened.