27.)

Blossom had the quintessential high school cheerleader experience of babysitting. Even though money had never really been an issue, babysitting afforded Blossom the freedom of a mostly-empty house where her Dad wasn't around. Those moments were mostly used for making out with guys, but it did teach her - at least roughly - how to put a diaper on someone. A smaller someone, obviously, but a someone. Still, taping one on herself felt like trying to write using a mirror for reference; all her actions felt a little clumsy.

After a few adjustments, and dragging over the full-body mirror to the bedside, Blossom was pretty happy with the job she'd done. Far from perfect, but pretty good for a first attempt. She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror - the juxtaposition of her diaper and her midriff top that exposed her taut tummy - and she turned left and right to look from different angles.

"Hey 'Manda? You can come back now," she bellowed.

Stories always make diaper changes seem like they take either one minute or half an hour, but I find that it's usually between five and ten in the real world. I wasn't very surprised that it took Blossom a while. But when I stepped back into the bedroom, Blossom wasn't wearing any pants. It was just her, standing in front of the mirror in just her halter top and a diaper taped around her hips.

"S-sorry!" I said, quickly turning around. Who calls someone in before they're dressed?! Blossom, clearly...

"No, I need you to check something," she said.

How could she be so nonchalant about this? I took a deep breath and turned around. Her curves did everything mine didn't. The seat of her diaper stuck out. Her tan thighs were pushed apart ever so slightly. The wings were tight around her waist. Except...

"It looks weird?" Blossom said, more like a question.

"Yeah, it's a little big..." I took a step forward, but I kept my distance. It was like checking out an animal at the zoo. A dangerous one, like a tiger or something. The waistband of the diaper was pretty high up her back, almost to the halter top, and the tapes on the front were almost overlapping. We were definitely not the same size...

"Is there anything we can do about that? I'd figured 'cause they tape on that it wouldn't be a big deal, but I guess I've just got a weird-shaped booty, right?"

Now, Blossom didn't actually believe her booty was anything but fine AF, but she knew well enough for a decade of borrowing and sharing clothes from friends that you never insinuate that they're too big to fit. She had some pretty good life skills.

"No, your booty looks..." I decided not to finish that sentence. She was both very hard to look at and very hard to look away from. Oh, that's a good line for a story! "I think you just need a smaller size."

"Okay, then we should hang out in the living room and order some? For me? And probably for you too, because I owe you at least one."

She turned around in place and bounced a little on the balls of her feet.

"How do I look?"

"You look... really good. Really good." Someone wearing a diaper for the first time needed a lot of support. Or, I did anyway. I did earlier today too, when Blossom caught me. I wanted to be supportive too. But also, I wasn't lying. She looked fucking gorgeous, like one of those pictures online of some kink model in a store-brand diaper that doesn't fit her. Internet fodder. She'd make a killing on OnlyFans...

"Uh, shouldn't you... put on some pants or something? If we're going downstairs?"

"Should I? I was just going to rawdog it, but I could put on a skirt, or some shorts; what do you think would look cutest? You're the expert here, Mia Moore."

She winked and smiled, because engaging Amanda was important to her, and her new friend was clearly nervous.

"I... dunno. I only wear pajama pants." I motioned to my pajamas. They were from the guy's section at Kohls, plaid and baggy with deep pockets. My experience wearing a diaper had never gone beyond the threshold of my house. One time I had to get the mail on one of my baby days and I just about died from anxiety.

"In a story, I'd say a skirt? Or, uh... what you were wearing before is probably fine?" Low-rise jeans and a diaper was definitely a vibe. I'd seen it enough times on Twitter. Plus, with her halter top... I looked down at my feet.

Blossom nodded her head slowly in thought and contemplation, and then nodded quicker as she smiled.

"Yeah babes, jeans are gonna be a process to get on over this but I think I'm up to the task! The skirt I packed wouldn't cover anything anyway."

It wasn't that Blossom wasn't nervous, or that she was entirely unperturbed by the fact she was wearing her very first diaper. It was just more than she had a kind of tunnel vision with excitement, so she couldn't see anything beyond that.

I tried not to watch Blossom dress herself. One leg at a time, just like the rest of us, right? But she was a really pretty girl, and every movement made her crinkle. She wasn't like anybody else I'd ever seen.

Blossom didn't struggle too much with her jeans, but the diaper was clearly visible over the waistband. Even if she had been wearing a diaper that fit her body, it still would have been showing. I reminded myself to draw the curtains in the living room. Even though the huge door wall faced the beach, anyone could be going for a late-night stroll.

"Tada!"

Blossom did an unexpected jumping jack to model her completed attire, and then twirled in place before sticking her arms out to the side. She was a very athletic and fit young woman, which should have come as no surprise whatsoever.

"What do you think? Can you tell?" She smirked wryly.

"Oh not at all. Actually, you could probably go to dinner like that. Or school."

"I've read enough stories to know better," Blossom laughed.

"Mmhmm, a bully might find out. How terrible would that be?" In the case of Blossom and myself: so far, not that terrible at all.