Still In Diapers At 16 Novels & Stories

Pushing my body against his, I tried to turn us over on the bed and put myself on top, but he stopped me. — I want you so much, it's painful — he whispered, spreading wet kisses across my neck. — I want you too much. — But I can't do that, not while you're a child. Let's wait. In a month, you'll turn eighteen and become an adult. It won't be easy, this waiting, but we can do it.

My name was Victory Carlson, and I was a college student. I had a pure, lovely, and youthful look, and an impressive 36E bust, and I easily attracted Damon Powell's attention the moment I appeared. Damon was my boyfriend. He'd always wanted to have sex with me, but I listened to advice from my stepdad, Charlie Kramer, that I was only truly considered an adult after I turned 21 years old. "It's going to be my 21st birthday in two days. I'll let you have your wish when that time comes," I told Damon while nestled in his arms in the grove of trees on campus.

No one said anything. “I see,” said Biadet. “Two on the bed, the rest of you watching. So, it’s like—” “Enough. No talking. And no catchphrases. Twelve-year-olds shouldn’t have catchphrases.” “I’m fourteen,” said Biadet. “Very nearly.” “Yes, must be wonderful. You can join in the conversation once you’re done with puberty. Until then, shut it.” I turned to the others. “Where were we?”

And I hope he fulfills his promise, even though I know it won't be possible for him to leave college, his studies to come over to be with me. Few months ago a seventeen year old pregnant girl stepped into college unashamedly, despite the glares and intense eye stare of people. They all made it seem like that was the first they were all seeing a pregnant girl. It wasn't a big deal for me, because they all finally got accustomed to it.

I would have to remind him of mom and at the same time do things to make him look at me. This gave me an idea. I looked in an old box stored in the back of my closet. It didn't take me long to find what I was looking for. My school uniform when I was sixteen. The white blouse, short black skirt, knee socks and black shoes. After I ironed it I put it on. It still fit me. The skirt was a lot shorter. I guess I grew a few inches since I was sixteen. It covered my ass, but not by much. I put on a pair of white panties. I looked in the mirror. This just might work. I bent over as if I was picking up something. When I did you could see my white panties almost all the way up my ass.

I heard him take a quick breathe "How old are you?" "Almost seventeen..." I said hollowly clearly embarrassed to say my actual age "you mean sixteen.... and yet you already look like a grown ass man. You should realise this is the last school I'll be taking you to, the last one that is willing to accept you"

I said. “You need to rest, Jean, you can tell-“ “No, I want to tell you now but first, can you pass me a drink?” I asked as I pointed at the glass of water. Blake chuckled “Here you go.” He took the glass and gave it to me. I drank it all and he put the empty glass back to the table. I held Blake’s hand and looked at him. “When I was 16 years old, I lived a happy life as a teenager. I went to school, played with friends, went to parties and having this cute crush on the most popular guy at school. I was living an ordinary life.”

"You eat that. You know I don't like too much sweets." He went home. "Eh don't! You're really crazy Amara! Don't you really have any plans to enjoy your teenage life? You're just too focused on your studies!" I was shaken. I know what he's up to. "I'm enjoying my life right now Laine." "Don't you really have any plans to try a relationship? You know, even if it's just a game. I think, that's what you're missing." "I don't need boys. And one more thing, I'm just sixteen years old. I'm too young to get into things like that."

‎Then Dad sighed. ‎“Did you at least use protection?” ‎Mom turned to him in disbelief. ‎“Max!” ‎“What?” Dad shrugged. “That’s the important question.” ‎A small smirk formed on my lips. ‎At least someone understood. ‎“She’s too young for this,” Mom argued. ‎“I’m almost sixteen,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. ‎“This isn’t normal behavior, Lisa,” Mom snapped. ‎“As long as she’s being careful—”