Some Alone Time, Part 3

“Rrrgh, fuck...” The German shepherd growled to himself, another indulgence he tried to avoid around the family, as he reached down between his legs to cup the weight of the diaper taped snugly to his hips, sufficiently thick to spread his thighs, and immodest enough that even just breathing caused the soft, plastic shell to crinkle. He couldn't get his fill of it. Just the knowledge that he was unmistakably back in diapers, like a giant, oversized puppy instead of a mature, successful civil engineer, was more than enough to keep his erection straining against the front panel.

He was achingly hard, and he knew that if he did a little more than just rub the outline of his shaft through his diaper, he'd go off in a matter of seconds. Especially if he had his pacifier in his mouth. That's all it would take, then he could clean up, shower, and dispose of the evidence before anyone was the wiser.

It was the perfect crime.

A quick glance at the digital clock on his bedside table made him rethink his plans, though. Todd's dad was feeling a little braver than usual, and as reluctant as he was to take his hands off of his diaper, he swung his legs off the side of the mattress and stood up, feet spread a little wider than usual to accommodate the bulk of his diaper. That was almost enough to get him back on the bed, humping a pillow, but he managed to restrain himself.

“Bet I can catch the end of the game before they get back home...” With a mischievous smile on his face and his tail wagging, he picked up his empty baby bottle and carried it out of the bedroom, feeling like a toddler as the tell-tale crinkle of a diaper and muted scent of baby powder accompanied each step that he took.

A practiced diaper lover almost since he got out of them, he made sure to check every set of blinds on his way to the kitchen.

Rummaging in the fridge, he was pleased to see that his wife had restocked his Rufkin supply on an earlier supermarket run, and he pulled a chilled bottle free of the packaging. He was experienced enough not to spill when transferring from one to another, from a grown-up bottle to a decidedly not grown-up bottle, and he let the carbonation settle for a moment before screwing the cap back on, and taking his baby bottle into the living room.

He had long since learned to widen the nipple of a baby bottle to better handle fizzy drinks, beer included.

*Part 4 will be up in a couple days!