Wet Jeans And DiapersI’ve been caught and almost caught a number of times. I recall that I met a woman online who wanted to get to know more about my predilections. I was up front in telling her I’d be wearing diapers if we met and that I also dressed en femme. While she explained that she wasn’t interested in changing my diapers, she did want to know much more about me.
We met at a coffee shop on Commercial Drive. She was an average looking woman, but extremely bright and I enjoyed her company immensely. Before we sat down, she asked if she could pat my bum to see what the diapers felt like. I was thrilled and told her she was welcome to. Funny, but there was no thought of humiliation – and she was extremely discreet – rubbing her hand against me while we were in line to get coffee.
I had double diapered myself and worn a new pink panty. The panty was made of vinyl and it was the first time I had tried them. We quietly discussed the double diapering after she felt my rear. I let her know that they were patterned with bears on one pair and balloons on another and that the panties were pink. She took it in stride and we moved on to other subjects. We chatted for about an hour and a half and then decided to go to the beach for a walk and to continue the talk. So what I learned about vinyl panties – a stream of pee hitting them directly allows for osmosis! By that time in my diaper wearing, I never thought about when I was peeing – I just did. I’d been sitting, drinking and talking and peeing the whole time. We stood up and walked outside to go to the car. We had turned down a side street and passed two mid-20s women – attractive and in scanty summer attire, sitting on a stoop chatting. I noticed them and looked directly at them. They were both grinning and staring at my crotch. I glanced down – and I’m sure they saw me do it – and found that there was a very large wet spot where my diaper had been folded over my pee-pee and directing the spray at the vinyl.
If you guessed that I got an instant erection, dry throat, racing heart and a very red face, you would be right. When I got to the car, she noticed my wet jeans and laughed. I told her I was sorry for embarrassing her and she told me she wasn’t – it was my problem, not hers. We got in the car and drove to the beach. The air flow dried my jeans, but when I got to the beach, my diapers were soaked and I needed a change.
I told her what I needed to do and she told me she’d wait. I grabbed my diaper bag and went into a stall in one of the public washrooms at Spanish Bank. Did you know there are no shelves in the handicap stalls at the beach? I had to find a way to get out of my pink panties and wet diaper without putting them on the floor (you really can see under the stalls.) I did manage to change, but still get the feeling a couple of people really wondered what was going on.