At lunchtime I watched you return from work and look all over the porch; obviously you thought the package would be there sitting on the steps waiting for you. At that point I gathered a few needed items in my bag, grabbed the box, and headed over to your house.  You looked more then just a little anxious when you saw me approach you with your package in hand. You tried to cover up the growing panic seated firmly in your gut by offering to relieve me of the burden, portraying it as a chivalrous act.  I just ignored your efforts, pushing past you, asking where you want me to place it. I can see the anxiety rise in you, but you are still keeping it together at this point.   As I place the package down on the coffee table, I turn to you and tell you that unfortunately the box was damaged, so I had to check the contents to see if anything was broken.  Your eyes jump from the box to me back to the box again.  I swear I could here your heart drop and hit the floor as it races to triple time.   I see the questions racing through mind – How could you have not notice the chewed up corner? The fact that the top had indeed been opened?  And why didn’t the fed-ex guy just leave it at the door?  You are actually starting to fume at the circumstances that have left you vulnerable and open to discovery.  How are you going to talk your way out of this?  And then the realization sinks in – I know your little secret.   You try a feeble attempt talk your way out of this nightmare come to life, to dismiss your purchase with one excuse or another, but you can see that I am not buying it for one moment.  The wide grin on my face tells you as much.  I tell you to stop denying it – I know the adult diapers are yours.  But the question that I put to you is this: who else knows what you do behind closed doors?   Your face turns beet red as a soft “no one” stammers past your lips.   “…until now…” I giggle softly.   Oh yes…..I will be having so much fun with this Diaper Lover…     …to be continued…   Maggie