Deborah felt herself blush again. Her face felt so hot that she thought it might melt. The thought of Derek seeing her, of smelling her, wearing a shitty diaper was too much. “Not exactly like I was wearing that one,” she said.
He kissed her. “You want some breakfast?”
She held on to him and returned the kiss, adding more tongue. “Not just yet,” she breathed when she finally got her breath. She pulled him on top of her when she fell back onto the bed.
When they finished, her jeans had a slippery wet spot on them about the size of a saucer. She blushed. It wasn’t pee and it didn’t stain her jeans. It just felt uncomfortable.
“I think it’s cute,” said Derek.
She stuck out her tongue. “You would.” She followed him down the stairs to the kitchen and took a seat in one of the chairs.
