Title: Jeremy's 7th Birthday
Name: daddy14u
Email: Not shown
Gender: Male
Current Age: 33
Posting Date: 08/16/09
Story Contents:
A- Post-toddler (4-8)* R- Sisters, other girls* 
B- Pre-teen (9-12)*S- Babysitters
C- Teen (13-17)T- Masturbation 
D- Adult (18+)U- Sexual situations
E- Cloth diapers* V- Gay
F- Disposable diapersW- Erections
G- PeeX- Bedwetting
H- Poop* Y- Accidents
I- Exposed diapers/pantslessness* Z- Punishment/Diaper Discipline 
J- Multiple diapers* 1- Female Domination* 
K- Baby paraphernalia 2- Enemas 
L- Mother 3- Restraints 
M- Father4- Crying 
N- Aunt 5- Spanking 
O- Uncle 6- Humiliation 
P- Brothers (diapered)7- Babying 
Q- Brothers (not diapered) 8- Regression 
*Denotes Deekerian story elements
Summary: Jeremy comes to live with daddy; daddy finds him a nice baby sitter.

All participants are in a role-playing fantasy. There are no minors, nor will there ever be anyone underage who participates in the games being played.

Deekerian Score (20 is max.) [?]: 1 (5%)

Jeremy's 7th Birthday

How do I explain the problems that his mother created? We always had a 
decent relationship after our divorce, and I paid all child support on 
time.

She had an issue, stealing money from her employer, and was going to 
jail. My relationship with Jeremy lacked the time I should have spent 
with him. Please do not think I'm blaming anyone for my mistakes! I 
take responsibility for my choices, and actions.

Now Jeremy is moving in. This is as much of a shock to me, as it is to 
him. Yes, I love him. When I picked him up at the airport, he barely 
had enough luggage for a 1-week trip.

God what a sweet little boy he is, with blonde hair, blue eyes; and a 
sincere smile. He was one of the first people off the plane, since he 
was a minor flying alone. He ran, and jumped in my arms, a simple hug 
wasn’t enough. Then he made a bee-line straight for the boys-room. He 
didn’t want to embarrass daddy, or himself. Then we picked up the one 
suitcase she sent, and were off to the car, for the ride home.

The first night was a great time, a lot of questions about mommy, and a 
chance to get re-acquainted. I suggested a pizza for dinner, but he 
preferred McD’s. He said, “Mommy never takes me there anymore”. After a 
happy-meal, and a super sized soda, which he insisted upon, we were on 
the road for our trip home. He was excited to get there since he hadn’t 
seen the new home I bought. There was even a brand new queen size bed, 
(a BIG BED), in the guest bedroom, which was now his. It’s only an hour 
and twenty minute drive, but like most kids, he couldn’t wait to get 
there. I soon found out why.

It wasn’t just the excitement of seeing his new home, new bedroom, and 
seeing Scooby Doo, the puppy I bought 5 years ago. Only 5 minutes from 
the house, the problem was obvious. He totally pissed the new khaki 
shorts I sent him. He felt so bad that he started crying, he wanted 
daddy to know that he was a big boy now. I reassured him, and told him 
that accidents happen. We will pull into the garage when we get home, 
and no one will see.

As soon as we pulled in, I showed him the bathroom, suggested a quick 
shower, and told him I’d bring the new P.J.s I got him. Of course 
Scooby was excited as well, and had to do a lot of sniffing. They were 
both happy to see each other, knowing they’d have playmates.

After his shower, I showed him around the new house, and reminded him 
he’d see the back yard tomorrow. He’d have ample time to play with 
Scooby, and meet the neighbor kids. I tucked him into his new bed, gave 
him a kiss, and reminded him that mommy would be okay.

When I woke up, it was a beautiful day, the birds were chirping, the 
sun was shining, and I had taken the next week as vacation. It was too 
early to rouse Jeremy, but Scooby wanted out. I opened the patio door 
and he bolted into the yard. It was time for coffee and a little 
reflection.

Why, considering the money I sent her, didn’t he have more clothes? Was 
what her sister said true, regarding alcohol, and possibly drugs? This 
is having a devastating effect on my boy. I called her sister, and she 
confirmed some of my fears. She did agree to ship some of his favorite 
personal items, including stuffed animals. I am in a business in which 
I have access to them all the time. I could get him new ones, but I 
never knew how much they meant to him.

Just then, the doorbell rang. I had forgotten it was Saturday, and 
Dylan was here to mow the lawn. I told him I’d push the button for the 
garage door, and asked him if he wanted a soda. He said, “Maybe when I 
start trimming”. I reminded him to face the riding mower so it doesn’t 
blow clippings into the pool.

Now for a little work, I get on the computer. You know, 2 minutes, and 
it’s 40 minutes later. Just as I go for another cup of coffee, 
sleepyhead greets me. He’s got that bad-puppy-dog look, and his P.J.’s 
are soaked! I said, ”Come here, and give daddy a hug”. I said, “I don’t 
care, I still love you”. “Daddy wet the bed when he was your age”. Just 
then, Dylan walks in through the unlocked patio door. The look was 
obvious astonishment, and a bit of embarrassment, all in a split 
second. I had to say something, so I introduced Dylan to my son Jeremy. 
Here’s Dylan, 14, no shirt, hot as hell, blonde hair and blue eyes, 
like my boy, and he puts his hand out and shakes Jeremy’s hand. “Nice 
to meet you, don’t worry, I wet the bed till I was 12”. A video 
wouldn’t do justice, but if you were there, you would recognize that 
there was a love that began at that moment.

I think I found a babysitter.

“I’d like that soda now,” says Dylan, “It’s hotter than I thought 
today.” I told him, “Help yourself, you know where they are. Do you 
want one, Jeremy?”

“Yes!” I suggested that Dylan could enjoy his soda, and cool off in the 
den, before finishing his work. They both almost ran, when Jeremy said, 
“Come on, I’ll show you my new video games.” I had to yell, “Not so 
fast young man, take your wet P.J.s off and put on a dry pair of 
shorts.” He ran to his room, and changed quicker than Superman. They 
spent almost 30 minutes, before Dylan reappeared, ready for work.

Just as the sound of the cordless weed whacker began, (I call it the 
‘Black and Decker Pecker Wrecker), Jeremy enters. “Dad, Dylan said he 
wore diapers for his bedwetting, and his 11 year old brother still 
does. He said it’s way cooler than a wet bed. He offered me a few of 
his brother’s diapers, if you don’t mind.” I asked him if that was what 
he really wanted, and he said, “Yes.”

“Thanks daddy, by the way, can I invite Dylan over tomorrow, for my 
birthday?”

I told him that I didn’t want to spoil the surprise, but I had invited 
a few of his friends that he made when he visited last time, from the 
old neighborhood. We’re going to Chucky Cheese for pizza and games. Of 
course he’s welcome, ask him if he can be here by Noon. He doesn’t need 
to bring any money, it’s your birthday party. He didn’t say anything, 
verbally, but the smile on his face was obvious. Then he went back to 
the den to play his video games.

I barely got back on the computer, when Dylan reappeared, “I’m done.”

“Is everything put away?”

“Yes.”

“Did you remember the eave troughs?”

“I’ll be right back.” When Dylan came back, I paid him for mowing, and 
asked him if he wanted to play some more video games with Jeremy. Silly 
question, of course he did!

Okay, now for a few more minutes on the computer, 2 hours to be 
precise. My stomach emailed me and said we hadn’t eaten. I went to the 
den to see if the boys wanted lunch. They were so involved with their 
game that they didn’t respond at first. “I said, would you guys like 
some burgers, if I throw them on the grill?” ‘Yah dad”

“Dylan, do you like onions, and tomatoes?”

“No onions, Please.” Just like my boy. Why don’t you guys come on out 
when you’re done with that game?”

“Don’t forget to grab a soda.”

“K dad.”

Scooby’s favorite job is chef’s helper, since he eats what we eat. He’s 
a full blooded Siberian Husky, and just slightly spoiled. I often 
prefer the charcoal, but today I’m lazy, so the gas grill is the tool 
of choice. I grab the meat, and one minute later, Scooby and I are 
cooking. Scooby guards the grill while I go in to fetch the tomato, 
buns, plates, and condiments. Scooby taught me the fetch part, and my 
boy isn’t old enough to understand condiments.

Here come the boys. The bond is obvious, I’m beginning to think my son 
likes older men. I forgot to grab the cheese, potato salad, and 
napkins, so they go in for them. Eating is only second to sex, and it’s 
best with people you love! We have a great lunch, followed by Jeremy’s 
request, “Can we go swimming?”

I reminded them that they needed to wait an hour after eating, and they 
both needed showers first. Jeremy asked, “Can we use the computer for a 
while?” My answer was, “Of course. I have another computer to put in 
your room tomorrow, kind of an extra birthday present.” I buy, repair, 
and sell computers on the side, so it’s no big deal. This one’s not a 
laptop, but I’ll find one for him soon. They grab the laptop, and head 
for the den again.

I guess I get K.P. duty, but I don’t mind. Thank man for paper plates. 
I get the shower first, not that I need it of course, but I need to 
shave too. My face, but come to think of it, there are some chest hairs 
I’d prefer to remove. It happens when you’re a daddy. The shower felt 
so good, why even get dressed. So I grab the swim suit I rinsed out 
Friday, from the towel rack. It’s so nice to be on vacation.

It just dawned on me, I don’t have a swim suit for either boy, but 
there are a couple of white spandex shorts, if they don’t mind. 
Probably Dylan has a pair at home, and maybe he could loan Jeremy a 
pair of his brothers, if they’re not too big. I go to the den to let 
them decide, and remind them to take their showers. What’s on the 
computer screen? A ”Teen Diaper Survey.” I asked, “What are you guys 
looking at?” Dylan replies, “I was just showing him that he’s not the 
only boy who wets the bed.” I explained the swim suit problem, and they 
opted for the spandex shorts. “Why don’t you get your shower first 
Dylan, there’s a fresh towel by the sink.”

I suggested that Jeremy should log off, so we could chat, before his 
shower. I thought about bringing up the web site they were on, but 
decided it was innocent enough to ignore. Not only did I want to remind 
him about the pool safety rules, but how much I loved him.

Dylan always seems to make a grand entrance, but this one, I am sure, 
is the best! If Michelangelo had seen this boy, I’m sure there would be 
a famous Statue of Dylan! The Gods have blessed this boy. My son 
couldn’t take his eyes off him as he walked into the room, and I simply 
ogled him. In fact, I had to divert my attention, as someone else was 
beginning to notice.

I had to remind J that it was his turn to shower. He kept looking back 
as he went to the bathroom, Dylan just smiled at him. Dylan sat down, 
and I purposely sat on the other side of the dining table, knowing I 
would embarrass my son and myself, if I looked at his entire body.

“Dylan, would you be willing to babysit occasionally?”

“Of course, as long as it’s not a school night, but now any night’s 
okay.”

“J mentioned diapers for his bedwetting, what brand does your brother 
wear?”

“ATNs, All Through the Night, they’re really comfortable, and we both 
wet more than once a night.”

“Do you still wear them?”

“No, but I still wet the bed once in a while.”

“Do you know how to put them on Jeremy?”

“Duh, I diaper Sean every night, I used to put his on after I put mine 
on.”

“Well I can assure you, Jeremy can still give a bit of trouble when the 
word bedtime arises. If I ask you to be the babysitter, that means you 
have full authority, when he is to be gotten ready for bed, diapers 
included, and when his actual bedtime is.” Pause…., I had to ask, “Is 
that okay with you?”

“Ah, yeah.”

I had to remove the pressure from the conversation, “Would you like a 
soda?”

“Yeah, please.” As I get up to go to the fridge, I can’t help but 
notice that Dylan is about to rip the spandex he’s wearing. Not to 
mention the way the light is hitting, there’s a small glimmering wet 
spot, at the end of a not so small tool. I make it to the fridge, but 
now have the same problem he has. Not that it’s a bad problem, I just 
don’t want to embarrass my son. Thank God he walks in at that moment, 
diverting attention, so I can move a few things around in the fridge. 
There’s the soda. “You want a soda too, Jeremy?”

“Yes, dad.” Nice thing about a pool, you can always jump in!

While the fridge door gives me cover, I can move some furniture around 
too, so to speak. I’m glad only the boys are wearing spandex. “Here’s 
your sodas, remember, no diving, no running on the patio deck, and no 
peeing in the pool, k?”

“K.”

“K.” Don’t worry, we’re not prejudiced. “Ready?”

Splash, splash, splash. Bark, bark, bark. Scooby’s such a woos. I’m 
glad though, imagine what all that fur would do to the pool filters. 
He’s not totally excluded from the fun. Suddenly, a wet Nerf ball hits 
him in the face! “Rar, rar, rar.” He runs around the entire pool twice. 
Then it’s a game of keep away. He brings it to the edge of the pool, 
but the moment anyone tries to grab it from his mouth, he backs away. 
Finally, Jeremy climbs out to get it from him. He’s sporting a bit of a 
problem. At only seven it’s not that big, but it sticks straight out, 
rather than up, making it totally obvious.

When he jumps back in, Dylan begins a water wrestling match with J. 
Then back to playing with Scooby. Dylan hits him square in the snout 
again, but this time he jumps out of the pool to get it from him. I’m 
so surprised that he hasn’t ripped the spandex shorts yet!

The fun continues until Dylan’s phone rings. Since I’m out of the water 
now, he asks me to get it. It’s his dad. He wants to remind him to be 
home in half an hour. I’ve never met his dad, but Dylan has told me 
that he’s divorced as well. I kind of want someone to talk to, we have 
enough in common, and we could both use a friend. “Do you think you’ll 
have time to have a couple of beers at the Sports Page later tonight?” 
He said, “Sure how about 8?”

“Dylan told me your boy moved in with you, do you need him to babysit?”

“That would be excellent.”

“Why don’t I pick you up when I drop Dylan off?”

“Perfect.”

“Can Sean come along?”

“Sure.”

“Talk to you about 8”

“Okay, bye.” Dylan already knew who it was, and both boys were drying 
off. “Do you boys want to rinse the chlorine off in the shower?’ “It 
only takes two minutes.”

“Show him where the clean towels are J.”

“K.” And they’re off, like a pair of dirty underwear. When Dylan left, 
I’m surprised they didn’t kiss! Just a few more hours, and Jeremy will 
be 7!

Now for the practical matters, I phone the detail shop. I can drop the 
car off, but I need a ride home, not in the car though, the passenger 
seat is wet. I don’t need a loaner vehicle, I can use the pickup. It’s 
just a Chevy S10, but it does the job. They assure me they’ll take care 
of the problem, and I remind them I don’t need the car for a few days. 
It’s only 6 months old, a silver CTS, and I don’t like leather seats, 
oops. Duh, we’ll send someone to pick it up, and call when it’s ready. 
We’ll deliver it to your home.

Now it’s time to call his aunt. She is very concerned about Jeremy. He 
has two cousins, one is eleven, the other fifteen. I get along better 
with Amie than my ex. I remind her to be careful what she says in front 
of the boys, especially regarding Jeremy’s mom. She is way ahead of me 
on this matter. That’s part of the reason I like her. She’s practical. 
Remember that stupid ceremony, the one with the “I do.” Scooby did that 
on the carpet last night. The entire reason for calling is that Jeremy 
and his aunt can talk. “Jeremy, your aunt is on the phone!” He loves 
aunt Amie, and almost puts a burn mark on the carpet. I believe 
everyone deserves privacy, including my boy, so I go to the patio with 
Scooby.

“Dad, they’re here to get the car.” I told him the keys were on the 
counter by the sink, and be sure to tell them thank you. My boy acts 
like he’s 18, most of the time. He obviously prefers the company of 
teenagers, twice his age. So do I. Like father, like son. I can’t blame 
the boy for having good taste.

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