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Dream about Kirsten Beaudry
I’m with a group of people sitting and watching a movie. We are in someone’s house in their large living room with many couches and places to sit. The TV is off to my left and not at an optimal angle to see from my perspective. As a result my body is kind of twisted to the left to see it. Kirsten is lying next to me, on my right side. She is laying on her stomach with her head propped up in her hands looking away from me at the TV. She is wearing a black T-shirt and a blanket covering her legs. My right arm is in a weird position, kind of hanging out in space. So, feeling both attracted to Kirsten and wanting to be more comfortable, I lay my arm across the middle of Kirsten’s back. My hand rests on her side. I expect her to react in some negative way, or at least give me that evil death stare at which she excels so much, but she does neither. Instead she does nothing, except for relaxing very slightly to accept the arm and continues watching the movie. As the movie goes on we both grow more bold in a shy way. I put more pressure on my arm and touch her more firmly and definitively with my hand. She slides closer to me, eventually resting her head on my knee with her upper body pressed against my leg. Many others have left the room at this point, but we don’t feel like we want to move.
The movie is over now and everyone else is gone. The lights are back up and Kirsten is laying in front of me know. She lies on her left side with her head towards my right side and the rest of her body trailing away from me at an angle. She’s still wearing the shirt, but the blanket has come off revealing that she is wearing a diaper. I don’t know when this happened and I am not surprised by it. It seems normal for her, if not something I specifically knew about. I notice that the diaper is messy. I can’t tell if it is wet because she is laying on her stomach, but there is a distinct bulge in the back. A little bit of brown is visible though the white which is patterned with little specks of blue and yellow color. The sides of the diaper are quite odd. They are fishnet to hold the front and rear flaps of the diaper together. We have reached a lull in our conversation and I am feeling a strong desire to reach out and touch Kirsten’s diaper. In fact I really want to slide my hand down over her messy bum. I’m filled with that crazy sexual electricity that teenagers feel which is also tied up in affection for the person and fear of being rejected.
So instead I reach out and touch the odd fishnet webbing on the side of her diaper, brushing the skin on her hip as I do so. Simultaneously I ask her what it is for and why the diaper is laid out like that. My hope is to breech the diaper subject so that I can eventually run my hand over the poopy part of her diaper. She laughs and provides an answer to my question. I’m about to continue the conversation while still touching the side of her diaper when a friend enters the room and breaks up our conversation. As we turn I run my hand up over the back of Kirsten’s diaper, touching the outside of the bulge on her bum. Kirsten looks back at me briefly with just the hint of a smile.
The friend leaves; Kirsten is standing now, she has put pants back on. She walks out of the room implying that I should follow. We walk to a large lobby type area. This is the toilet room there are a row of fancy toilets up high on one side. To use them you climb a few steps and sit on a rectangular bench with a rectangular hole, outhouse style. Kirsten, however, walks into a smaller, private, normal bathroom and closes the door. I think to myself that she must be going in there to change out of her messy diaper. I decide this is as good a time as any to relieve myself as well. I go up to one of the high toilets, sit down and try to go both ways. I have to go, but it doesn’t want to come out. As it is about going to, another girl walks into the room. I get the feeling that this is normal behavior, but I get nervous and can no longer go. The girl takes no notice of me and walks out again. I decide that Kirsten might think it’s weird if I’m using the toilet when she comes out so I get up and go back down to the door to her bathroom to wait for her. She then walks out; she has taken her pants off, but is still wearing the messy diaper. Kirsten looks at me and says, in that way of hers, “I thought you were coming in with me.”
I’m with a group of people sitting and watching a movie. We are in someone’s house in their large living room with many couches and places to sit. The TV is off to my left and not at an optimal angle to see from my perspective. As a result my body is kind of twisted to the left to see it. Kirsten is lying next to me, on my right side. She is laying on her stomach with her head propped up in her hands looking away from me at the TV. She is wearing a black T-shirt and a blanket covering her legs. My right arm is in a weird position, kind of hanging out in space. So, feeling both attracted to Kirsten and wanting to be more comfortable, I lay my arm across the middle of Kirsten’s back. My hand rests on her side. I expect her to react in some negative way, or at least give me that evil death stare at which she excels so much, but she does neither. Instead she does nothing, except for relaxing very slightly to accept the arm and continues watching the movie. As the movie goes on we both grow more bold in a shy way. I put more pressure on my arm and touch her more firmly and definitively with my hand. She slides closer to me, eventually resting her head on my knee with her upper body pressed against my leg. Many others have left the room at this point, but we don’t feel like we want to move.
The movie is over now and everyone else is gone. The lights are back up and Kirsten is laying in front of me know. She lies on her left side with her head towards my right side and the rest of her body trailing away from me at an angle. She’s still wearing the shirt, but the blanket has come off revealing that she is wearing a diaper. I don’t know when this happened and I am not surprised by it. It seems normal for her, if not something I specifically knew about. I notice that the diaper is messy. I can’t tell if it is wet because she is laying on her stomach, but there is a distinct bulge in the back. A little bit of brown is visible though the white which is patterned with little specks of blue and yellow color. The sides of the diaper are quite odd. They are fishnet to hold the front and rear flaps of the diaper together. We have reached a lull in our conversation and I am feeling a strong desire to reach out and touch Kirsten’s diaper. In fact I really want to slide my hand down over her messy bum. I’m filled with that crazy sexual electricity that teenagers feel which is also tied up in affection for the person and fear of being rejected.
So instead I reach out and touch the odd fishnet webbing on the side of her diaper, brushing the skin on her hip as I do so. Simultaneously I ask her what it is for and why the diaper is laid out like that. My hope is to breech the diaper subject so that I can eventually run my hand over the poopy part of her diaper. She laughs and provides an answer to my question. I’m about to continue the conversation while still touching the side of her diaper when a friend enters the room and breaks up our conversation. As we turn I run my hand up over the back of Kirsten’s diaper, touching the outside of the bulge on her bum. Kirsten looks back at me briefly with just the hint of a smile.
The friend leaves; Kirsten is standing now, she has put pants back on. She walks out of the room implying that I should follow. We walk to a large lobby type area. This is the toilet room there are a row of fancy toilets up high on one side. To use them you climb a few steps and sit on a rectangular bench with a rectangular hole, outhouse style. Kirsten, however, walks into a smaller, private, normal bathroom and closes the door. I think to myself that she must be going in there to change out of her messy diaper. I decide this is as good a time as any to relieve myself as well. I go up to one of the high toilets, sit down and try to go both ways. I have to go, but it doesn’t want to come out. As it is about going to, another girl walks into the room. I get the feeling that this is normal behavior, but I get nervous and can no longer go. The girl takes no notice of me and walks out again. I decide that Kirsten might think it’s weird if I’m using the toilet when she comes out so I get up and go back down to the door to her bathroom to wait for her. She then walks out; she has taken her pants off, but is still wearing the messy diaper. Kirsten looks at me and says, in that way of hers, “I thought you were coming in with me.”