“Yes,” he said instantly.

“Do you want me to spank you now?” she said, her voice dripping.

“Yes—Ohh!” She hit him and felt every pore of him vibrate in her arms.

“Take your pants off,” she said. They were gone. His cock was curved around itself in his underwear, and she bent him over her knees and whaled on his tight little ass. He yelled and breathed at the same time, and she felt his dick pulse on her leg. Nicole felt like she could pick him up and set him down and do whatever she wanted with him.

“Do you want to take your underwear off?” she said quietly.

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to touch your cock?”

“Yes.”

Then he hesitated. “I’ve got something else to tell you.”

“That’s fine.”

He hesitated again. “Out with it.”

His face reddened. “I get really hot from calling my partners Mommy.”

Nicole’s feeling of control strengthened as his warm body lay atop hers. “I like that,” she said. “Call me Mommy.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said without missing a beat.

Then she hit him hard, and wind flew out of him. “Oh yes, Mommy!

Thank you, Mommy!” His cock a rod on her leg.

“Take your underwear off.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

A scratchy tickle took shape in the back of Nicole’s brain, a small sinking corner in a room that said, You don’t like doing this. She ignored it. She stroked him. He asked if he could eat her out. She said yes. He asked if she could call him a little boy. She said yes. She opened herself for him.

“Oh, that’s good, my little boy,” she said with her hands in his hair, her half-slip up around her waist. “Real good—Oh!”

Nicole loved getting head. She could let her pussy get eaten all fucking day. He ate her pussy like a good little boy, far beyond the point when most of her hookups got tired and gave up. Eventually, hot as shit for his cock and hot with control, feeling like he’d fuck her in the middle of the street if she told him to, she gasped, “Fuck me. Come on, little boy, give your cock to Mommy.”

He lifted up from her cunt, sucking in air, and then froze again.

Oh boy. “What?” she said.

“There’s one other thing.” He looked frightened.

“Out with it.”

“Oh God.” Ant’s face contorted.

“Honey”—Nicole breathed—“I won’t judge you. And you know that.”

“I have a diaper fetish.”

Nicole entered a room in her mind. She turned around inside the room and closed the door. “Do you want to wear a diaper in bed with me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have one now you want to wear?”

“Yes.”

Silence. “How does it, uh …” She fumbled for words. “How does it work?”

The fear on Ant’s face vanished momentarily, replaced by exhaustion and thoughtfulness. “There really isn’t a way it—works. I just like wearing it. It’s a special one they make for adults. Adult baby fetish is what some people call it. Some people like to be in cribs, play with blocks? That’s not my thing. It’s cool, obviously, but it’s not my thing. For me, it’s mostly about the diaper. And—”