My ten year old son Greg, who preferred his nickname Crunchie to anything on his passport, was already in the kitchen with us, wearing a yellow tee and a bright diaper, fixing himself breakfast. I was in the kitchen with my sister in law Betty. She was staying with me. She heard the sound first. Timmy, Greg's eight year old brother, was still upstairs, lying in the king size bed which he shared with Greg, and making the quiet, insistent, unmistakeable regular creaking, a bit like a wooden ship creaking in a rough sea.

"You ought to see this," I whispered to Betty, recognising the noise. I stood up off my chair as quietly as I could.
"I think I can imagine," said Betty.

I put my finger to my lips and beckoned Betty to follow me up the stairs, making no noise at all. The door of the boys' bedroom was open. Timmy had shrugged the quilt onto the floor, and we both saw him lying face down on the double bed with a pillow under his hips, humping hard and regularly. The bed creaked and the plastic sheet that protected the mattress was crinkling and rustling. Timmy was rhythmically pressing his hips against the pillow hard, lifting his hips slightly, and pressing down again. Timmy was wearing a disposable diaper but no pajama pants. He never wore the pants, and the pajama jacket was pulled up around his armpits, uncovering the small of his back. His eyes were closed and humping his pillow was obviously giving him the most intense pleasure.

"Why are they both in diapers, huh?" Betty asked me in a whisper. She had a midwestern American accent which I knew appealed to the boys.
"Tell you later," I whispered back. Timmy's diaper was tight and showed him off magnificently. "Look at his bum."
"He's gorgeous, huh? That taut diaper really shows him off."
"He will break many hearts," I pursed my lips, "as my granny once said."
"Eight years old and already a pillow humper, huh? Is he a big boy, well endowed?"
"Ooh, I couldn't possibly comment," I said, primly, pretending that I didn't know.

Timmy was certainly gorgeous. A little too slender for his height, Tim had long, slim, straight legs and arms with a slight covering of down. His blond hair was far too long and tangled. His bare feet were stretched out as he rocked on the pillow and his bum, clad in the tight plastic pants of his diaper, was lusciously curved, like twin basketballs, with a deep cleft.

"Heartbreakers, your boys, huh?" said Betty. "First Greg in a tee and plastic pants and now… 'Scuse me, I can't resist."

I stood in the corridor and watched as Betty slipped out of her shoes to avoid making a sound. She padded over to stand beside Timmy's bed. Timmy, humping hard, facing the mattress and with his eyes closed, had not heard Betty sidling into the bedroom. Betty laid her open hand gently but firmly on the tight plastic pants that stretched over his sweet buttocks.

Timmy jumped. His face turned scarlet with embarrassment. He stopped rocking.

"Startled you, huh?" Betty said quietly. "Sorry."

I stood on the landing outside the door, watching Betty tease Timmy, stroking his bum cleft and lightly massaging and smacking the cheeks.

"You can go on humping," said Betty in a tone that was meant to be reassuring, but Timmy went an even darker red colour. "You want to go on humping the pillow, huh? And you look so cute when you're doing it."
"Yeah," said Timmy.
Betty bent over him, her lips almost touching his left ear. "Go on, hump, rub against it. That feels so good huh?" she urged.
"Oh," said Timmy, pressing his crotch into the pillow.
"Try something new, huh? This will make you feel good." Betty rested her left hand on Timmy's butt through the tight plastic diaper. With her right hand she reached under the pillow and lifted it off the bed, pressing it against Timmy's crotch, moving it slightly up and slightly down.
"Wow," said Timmy, obviously feeling the stimulation, "oh, wow!"
"Relax," said Betty, "don't rush. You have the cutest ass I have ever seen. Can you raise it off the bed for me?"
"You said the same about Greg's ass yesterday," said Timmy. He lifted himself onto all fours, tightening the plastic pants and showing off the inviting curves of his buttocks. Betty raised the pillow again, pressing it against Timmy's bulge and making him gasp with pleasure.
"I said Greg had a cute ass, huh? Well, it's true. He's got the other cutest ass I have ever seen."

Still standing on the landing, I remarked, "You haven't actually seen Timmy's bum yet."
"I can make it out," said Betty, using the pillow to remarkable effect, "these tight plastic covered diapers show him off pretty well, huh?"
"They don't hide much," I said, looking on approvingly at my son's curves.
"Oh, oh, oh wow, Auntie Betty, you're making me…" Timmy was panting, and he was rocking the bed harder and faster as his aunt manipulated the pillow.
"I know," she said. "You're a bit uncomfortable. You have a nice bulge in your diapers, huh? I bet you can piss hard. Another minute or so and you'll feel something really special."

Betty moved her right hand, sliding the pillow harder against the bulge in Timmy's diaper, and Timmy moaned out loud. "Aah, oh Auntie, I love you! Oh…"

"It's beginning to hit you, huh?" With her left hand Betty slid a finger onto the crease in the diaper that ran between the boy's bum cheeks, pressed the pillow against his crotch and Timmy gasped as his orgasm flooded through him.

"Yes, yes, oh, oh, oh! Oh, yes!"

Timmy's hips jolted hard a few times and then, red faced and breathing heavily, he relaxed. Betty pressed two fingers harder against the silky plastic, rubbing Timmy's testicles through the diaper.
Timmy moaned again as pleasure spread outward from the testicles. "Mmh, mmmh."
"You want to piss into your diaper, huh? You've a high pressure fire hose just here." She pressed the pillow into exactly the best spot, whispering, "Put the fire out, huh? Drench it, soak it, spray all over it, huh?"
Timmy did not answer but Betty could hear him flooding drenching the lining of the diaper.
"Good boy, Timmy. Sleep tight, cute-assed sweetheart! Tell me when you need more pillow games, huh?" said Betty. Seeing Greg settle down she let go the pillow and, more reluctantly, took her finger off the boy's firm, tightly diapered balls.

Betty turned to me and asked in a voice that could have been heard on the street outside, "Those are some balls he has. Does he pump a load yet?"
"At eight years of age? Not yet."
"That's all right," said Betty. "He will, one day. How about Crunchie, huh?"
"Any day now, I guess," I said, but I didn't really expect Greg to pump for another year or so.

Betty and I picked the boys' quilt off the floor and pulled it over Timmy's body. Betty pulled Timmy's pajama jacket down to his waist. Timmy was face down and breathing deeply. We left him to sleep.

We were downstairs. Greg — Crunchie — was leaving to go out to a movie with friends.

I opened the back door and called out to Greg, who was rushing down the path to the street, where two friends were waiting in shorts and polos. His blue jeans were zipped up over a diaper, "just in case." At the movies, accidents do happen.

"Did you change your diaper?" I called.
"You let him change his own diaper, when you could do it yourself, huh?"
"He'll be wet when he gets back tonight and you can change him, Betty."
"Hey, Greg," called his friend Andy, "we'll miss our ride."
"Be there in a minute," Greg yelled back, and then he turned to me and said, "Yes, mum." Greg was not in the least embarrassed by wearing diapers for trips out. In fact he often boasted of them.
"Where did you put the used one?"
"In the trash, like always."

As I closed the back door I heard Andy, mimicking my voice, calling "Did you change your diaper, Crunchie?"
Greg's face turned redder than usual. He yelled "Fuck off" at Andy in reply.

I closed the back door and put tea bags into two cups and I made tea. I wasn't sure what to say to Betty but knowing that she was a pretty forthright woman I asked her outright whether she felt attracted to my little boy.

"Hell yes," she said. "You need to ask, huh? Would I like to spend some time with a tightly pantied dreamboat ass like his giant peach?"
"He's been wearing the same diaper since about eight o'clock yesterday evening so when he comes downstairs he will need a change," I gushed. "If you'd like to do it."
Betty laughed. "You bet. I'll give him a pillow massage he won't forget in a hurry."
"I wondered," I said. "Look," I steeled myself, "w-would you like to spend time alone with him?"
Betty smirked. "You bet. Thank God you offered. You mean you'll let me change his diaper if I ask you nicely, huh?"
"Sure," I said, "just wait until he comes downstairs. The packets of clean diapers are there." I pointed to the cupboard in the hallway. "Timmy takes Size Seven Pampers and Greg takes large RCDs. Used diapers go in the plastic bin unless you want them as souvenirs. There are baby-wipes and talc in the cupboard, too. Take two wipes, you'll probably need them for Timmy."
"May I really take a used diaper?"
I was a little taken aback. "Of course."
"The boys are both still in diapers, huh?" said Betty. "Is that because you like to change them and look at them?"
"I'm fortunate. God gave me two beautiful boys who need diapers. Nothing serious but they both wet the bed at night sometimes and occasionally during the day so… it saves on steam cleaning, and the boys like them."
"They wet a lot, huh?"
"'Fraid so. Once or twice a week at night and occasional leaks during the day, so they have to wear something. Greg is about to change school so he's suddenly a bit on edge and he wets a lot."
"So they don't mind, huh?"
"They're OK with them. These diapers are pretty cool to look at. You're already transfixed by seeing Timmy in them, I can tell."
"My mouth is dry. I'm like a stoat on the highway, caught in headlamps."
"OK," I said, "here's the deal. I need to get some shopping. I'll go for it now. You can take a clean diaper and change Timmy as often as you want. The plastic goes on the outside and don't spill talc on the sticky tabs."
"I have to make sure it's tight, huh?"
"Yes, be sure to stretch the diaper over those boy curves. Phone my mobile if you need anything. Don't worry about how long it takes me to do my shopping. If I need to go to Fort William, I could be away for several hours. Greg comes home at midnight and Timmy will eat anything he can find in the fridge. Any worries?"
"My heart is pounding," said Betty, "Will Greg need changing?"
"Yes, he will," I said. "Don't do anything I wouldn't, and don't lock yourself out. Have a nice day."

I pulled my coat on and walked out to the car. It was eleven in the morning and I planned to leave Betty alone with Timmy until at least sunset.