Diapers was a girl I dated fairly often back in the mid 70s. She was a cute and sweet young gal that always seemed happy and on the verge of giggling. She was in her early twenties and had a one-year-old son. Diapers lived with her parents who helped her care for her baby. She carried around a few extra pounds and, though not overly fat, she was nicely rounded. Like most heavier girls, she had a wonderfully large set of tits.
I was beginning to really appreciate bigger girls and their big tits.
The first time I picked Diapers up for a date, her father and mother had a very unusual talk with me. They told me their daughter was free to do anything she liked. I just needed to be certain she got home safely. Her father even made a point of telling me, " ... she's been fixed."
I had a hard time believing what these parents were telling me about their daughter. Were they really saying it was alright to fuck their daughter, as long as I brought her home safely? It sure seemed like it.
Diapers got her CB handle from me. It came from a near accident, which resulted in another accident.
We had been riding around town one evening in my classic '66 Dodge Charger. We were chatting on the CB with her parents and some of our other friends. We scared the hell out of them all when, over the air, they heard my tires squeal, Diapers scream, and me yell, "OH SHIT!"
Diapers parents, and a number of my CB friends, immediately wanted to know what happened and were we were all right.
It took a long time for the laughter to fade when I told them what had happened. I had swerved hard to miss a wayward skunk, but got him anyway. Luckily, it was a clean kill. He never had a chance to spray my car. Thank God for 14" wide rear tires, and a skunk whose business end was aimed toward the roadside, and away from my car.
Diapers however, who had naturally been startled and a bit frightened by my abrupt steering maneuver continued to look upset. I thought it was all over. She didn't want to tell me why she was upset. She just insisted I take her home right away.
When we got to her home, she quickly got out of the car, and ran inside. I then realized why she needed to get home. It was a good thing my seats were vinyl. Her seat was soaking wet. The near accident with the skunk had caused Diapers to have an accident of her own. She had pissed her pants, and nearly flooded my car's seat.
As if she wasn't embarrassed enough, I added insult to injury. While she cleaned up and changed her clothes, I drove to the nearest store and bought a pack of disposable diapers for her baby. When she came out of the house, I gave her the pack of diapers. The pack had been opened and one diaper was missing. She thought her son had needed changing. When I opened the car door for her, she saw why the package had been opened. I had spread the missing diaper on her seat. " ... to catch any further accidents." I told her.
Hence, her handle became Diapers. Even her father started calling her Diapers. After he quit laughing, that is. Her mother did her best to hold in her laugh. She failed. Poor Diapers.