Chapter Thirteen

Weeks passed by and before I knew it the end of the semester was just around the corner.

Vivian and I continued to see each other every Friday night…and every Saturday morning, for that matter. Despite ample fantasies to the contrary, I kept my pants dry during our time together—during the daytime, anyway. Come Saturday morning, I would always shuffle my way to breakfast in a soaked pull-up. If Vivian ever noticed that I wore my sodden undergarments to breakfast, she never said anything about it. In fact, she said very little about my accidents at all, though she did remind me to wear my pull-up most night, and a few times she had even…politely suggested I use the bathroom.

Of course, she never phrased it so directly. “Why don’t you go visit the little girls’ room and wash up while I clean up after dinner?” She might suggest; subtle, but enough to make my cheeks a little warm.

All-in-all, my time with Vivian was a small taste of bliss every week, and barely a day would pass that I didn’t find myself deep in my daydreams fantasizing about Vivian…but mostly about Miss Vivian.

It was not, however, all sunshine and rainbows. Vivian and I never discussed it, but we both knew our relationship, such as it were, existed under the sword of Damocles. We knew our relationship was wrong, or at least ethically suspect; we knew the trouble we could get in if the director of our department or other administration discovered it. If nothing else, Elyse’s words and warnings lived rent free in my head, but I didn’t care, and Vivian never showed any sign that she did. And after all, was what we were doing so wrong? We were both consenting adults, and I was still doing the work. But the reality was what it was, and nothing Vivian or I could do would change that, so we made sure to keep our relationship under wraps. In public, on campus, we maintained a façade of professionalism in all of our interactions.

However, that didn’t mean I didn’t catch Elyse glaring at us from across the room on more than a couple of occasions.

Speaking of Elyse, after our second confrontation regarding the time I was spending with Vivian, she kept her mouth shut on the matter, which was a win at least.

Outside of my relationship with Vivian, I kept myself busy with my schoolwork. The end of the semester was always a busy time, and this semester was no exception. In fact, I spent the vast majority of the time I wasn’t with Vivian with either my nose stuck in a book or my head stuck in a fantasy about Vivian.

Oh, and, as for the diapers I bought…well…I was right, they proved much harder to put on in practice than the tutorials I had read and watched made it seem. I ruined the first one I tried to put on by ripping the tapes and plastic from so many attempts at readjusting the thing. At first, I thought I did a better job with the second, but after just a few moments of wearing it, I began to suspect I had done a poorer job than I realized. What was snug and comfy in some places was loose and scratchy in others, and when the padding leaked all over my bed when I first tried to wet it, my suspicions were confirmed.

Since then, the opened bag of diapers, too large to fit in my chest, had lived in my closet hidden out of sight just next to the chest of secrets. Leaving it out like that made me nervous at first, but I quickly realized that all my security measures were a little on the paranoid side. After all, it wasn’t like Elyse was going to go digging around my closet.

All-in-all, the last few weeks of the semester passed in a pleasant blur.

There was, however, one thing about Vivian and mine’s relationship that left me uneasy.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Vivian whispered in my ear, “we should both probably get ready for bed.”

I made a sound of weak protest in my throat, “just a few more minutes?”

“In just a few more minutes, you’ll be fast asleep, and we can’t have that yet, now can we? Come on, sleepy girl, go get ready for bed.”

“I won’t fall asleep, I promise,” I said even as I shifted around in bed to get in a more comfortable position. We were laying in Vivian’s bed together, both of us naked, having just thoroughly celebrated the end of the semester together. Summer stretched out ahead of us, and with less work for both of us and many of the students, including Elyse, and some of the faculty going out of town for portions of if not the entire summer, we’d have much more time to spend together.

“You will,” she chided gently and with enough jovialness to know she was being playful, “and you know what will happen if you fall asleep before you…get ready.”

I pouted, knowing exactly what she meant. “Okay,” I finally agreed, sitting up in bed, “but you have to give me a kiss first.”

Vivian smiled and complied, “now,” she said as she got out of bed with me, “you go get ready for bed, and I’ll go turn down the bed in the guest room for you.”

I pouted again, this time behind Vivian’s back. The guest bed. We’d been doing this for quite a few weeks at this point, Vivian and I were having sex, but I was still sleeping in the guest bed? It didn’t seem fair, but I also knew it was likely because Vivian didn’t want to sleep in the same bed with a bedwetter. She said she was fine with it and didn’t think any less of me, but was that really the case? Perhaps more importantly, could I really keep this up if it barred me from a bit of much craved intimacy?

Later that night, curled up in the guest bed, I pondered this problem further. Of course, I’d never asked Vivian if I could sleep with her, so maybe she just didn’t realize that was something I wanted. But the bedwetting was certainly the more likely answer.

But…maybe…there was a way to find out…

Invite her to have dinner at your apartment next week, she’ll have to sleep in bed with you then, and if she won’t stay the night, you’ll know it’s because of your bedwetting.

I could never, not with Elyse in the apartment.

Elyse won’t be there, remember?

That was right, Elyse had left earlier that day to spend the summer with her family—I had the apartment to myself until mid-August.

And so I resolved to invite Vivian to spend an evening, and hopefully a night, at my apartment. What I didn’t know then was how this seemingly innocuous act would set into motion events that I would only ever have had the nerve to fantasize about.