Date: Wed, 13 Feb 2002 03:32:36 +0000
From: Java Biscuit <javabiscuit@hotmail.com>
Subject: Babying Reuben, chapter seven

This is a story involving male/male graphic sex and it's not
intended for reading by minors. If you are underage, or this
type of material is illegal where you live, please stop now,
and go read something else! This is a completely fantasized
story meant only for the purpose of pleasurable reading.
These people don't exist, this world doesn't exist, outside of
this story.

Apologies for the long delay between chapters! These guys
are proving harder and harder to write about!

Feedback to javabiscuit@hotmail.com

Babying Reuben ~ chapter seven

by Biscuit


They were in bed when David phoned. Saturday, a sleeping
in sort of morning, though if it weren't for Reuben being
there, Jean knew he'd probably have been up, if not out on
the road. Flea marketing the back roads for a few hours, as
much for the drive and scenery as for buying. David knew
that. How many times had he gone with him on those jaunts?
Jean wondered if that was the point of the call at that hour,
to catch Reuben alone. He kept the thought to himself, with
a nagging sense that he was getting paranoid.

"Are you really still in bed, at nine o'clock, Jean?" David's
voice was amused.

"Yes. I'm really in bed," he said, glancing at the window.
Gray. Looked like some light snow. Next to him, Reuben
stirred. Until Jean reached over to pet him, encountering
the odd texture of plastic where he expected skin, the
warm hump of the diaper, he'd forgotten completely that
Reuben was sleeping in the thing. David was speaking
and Jean wasn't hearing him, distracted by Reuben's hard
cock pressing up into his palm through the cloth and thin
plastic, the boy's knee nudging him, legs spreading.

"What?" Jean said, trying to catch the drift of what his
friend was saying but finding it difficult. Reuben wasn't
usually interested in sex in the morning, one of the few
disappointments for Jean in the first week of living with
him.

"I said, are you coming to dinner tonight? It's not going
to be a big deal, just you and me, Daniel, Benny, the boy
Daniel's seeing that you still haven't met. A little red head,
very sweet. He's twenty and he looks twelve. I hope you
explained to Reuben that I was joking about the baby's
first Christmas."

"No," Jean said, his cock hardening far beyond the need
to piss. The young painter looked half asleep, and half like
he might come very soon if Jean kept stroking him, a look
that Jean found incredibly sexy. "I didn't know you were
joking. But no, not tonight."

"Not even to see Joey? Did you know he was in town? I
thought for sure you'd want to see him." Joey? God, how
long had it been?

"I've got to go now."

"I'm not giving up yet. I'll call you later." The line cut off
and Jean set down the phone. Joey. Damn David, anyway.
How like him it was, to bring up Joey to tantalize him when
he was trying to get off the phone and then more or less
hang up on him. But he didn't want to think about David
now, or Joey, the boy he'd lost to David more than two
years before.

He hooked his finger under the crotch snap of Reuben's
plastic pants. So hot in there. Not pissed in, but so wet
inside the slit in the cloth. Reuben responded to being
fingered by lifting his knees, making a plaintive sound
that shot straight to Jean's cock.

This was luxury to the man, waking up and fucking. The
boy's ass was moist and slick, he was as hot as if Jean had
spent the night teasing him. Well, he thought, if this is what
it does to him, maybe wearing the diaper overnight is not
such a bad idea.

He'd been wary the night before, when Reuben wanted to
sleep in it, apprehensive about how much the edges of the
game were blurring. Now, sliding on top of a very eager
boy, it didn't seem so important that the game was bleeding
through into what Jean considered their normal life. He
hooked his arms under Reuben's knees, thrusting deep
inside him.

Unbidden, Joey's face came to mind when Jean shut his
eyes. Honey brown bangs falling into hazel eyes, a wide
smile over a dimpled chin. Jean opened his eyes, to push
the image away, He saw Reuben looking up at him, hazy
with pleasure, steeped in it. So different from Joey, he
thought without even realizing he was comparing them.
Joey was as open as Reuben was mysterious, as playful
as Reuben was brooding.

Reuben gasped, pulling Jean back into the moment, his
flushed face and ragged breathing signaled he was close
to coming. Jean grasped him tighter, and thrust hard, his
weight bearing down on Reuben's straining, diapered
cock. The boy shuddered and his hips jerked.


-------------------------


Reuben was very turned on by wearing the diaper to
sleep in. He'd come at least once in the night, waking
up on his stomach to find himself rubbing against the
mattress, wishing Jean was awake and fucking him.

He wondered if what he felt was what he'd felt when he
was a baby for real, if he'd been sexually aroused as an
infant. No way to know, no way to remember that.

He'd had no sexual associations with being a baby
before Jean. Had he? Not that he could remember. Now
he found himself aware of babies, small children, looking
at them, guiltily speculating about what they felt in the
arms of their mothers and fathers.

Thank God, he thought, I will never have children. He'd
never thought about children much, and when he had, it
was with indifference. His mother had used the preface,
when you have children, any number of times, and he'd
always thought to himself, I won't. Now, it wasn't just a
matter of no interest in babies, or women, it seemed like
a dangerous thing. The track he was set on, the perverse
pleasure of it, made him think that a child of his own
would tempt him to touch. The thought was horrifying.

"Serious thoughts?" Jean asked him, in the shower.
Reuben didn't feel tempted to share what he was thinking.
He shook his head and hid under the spray of hot water,
rinsing his hair.

So sick, he thought, of himself, not of Jean. He'd begun
to suspect the truth, that the game was played more for his
sake, than his lover's. Jean's reluctance was plain the night
before.

Reuben had thought that living with him, the game would
expand to fill up his life, at least the parts of it not devoted
to painting. It had become clear, very quickly, that that was
not Jean's intent. Strange to think that what he'd thought he
was doing for Jean, in fact, Jean was most likely doing for
him. Less than a week he'd lived in this place, and each day
had brought fresh revelations. Not all of them welcome.

"Was that David on the phone before?" he asked, taking
the towel Jean handed him as he stepped out of the shower.
He knew it had to have been David. He hadn't forgotten the
invitation to the party. He hadn't dared to tell Jean that he
found it tempting.

"Yeah. Dinner tonight. I told him no. The baby's first
christmas thing was a joke, apparently. That's what he says
now, anyway."

"Maybe we should go, then," Reuben said. The idea that it
had been a joke made the invitation less arousing, but also
less frightening. "You shouldn't have to avoid your friends
for my sake. I'm not scared of him."

Jean smiled. He looked very handsome to Reuben, with his
hair wet, hanging down his back, toweling himself. Watching
him, he thought again of painting him, having Jean pose for
him. They'd talked about it but Jean always seemed to have
something else to do.

"You should be scared of him," Jean said, with a half smile.
"God knows I am. He likes to stir things up. Believe me,
David won't be happy until he's done everything he can to
try to seduce you. It's like a game to him."

"But he's your friend, right? And I'm not, you know, I'm
not interested in him like that," Reuben said. Am I? The
thought of someone determined to seduce him was more
arousing than he wanted to admit to Jean. He thought of the
way David had touched him under the table at Laurent's. No,
he thought, I'm not interested in David.

That whole evening had been a shock to his system, scary
and wonderful the way Jean had become so passionate in
the presence of his friends. Fucking on the stairs afterwards.

"Yes. He's my friend. What are you thinking that's making
you frown like that?" Jean asked, and Reuben was almost
startled to feel the man drape a fresh towel around his
shoulders. He realized he'd been standing there, drifting in
thought, dripping water with a towel hanging in his hands.
Jean was wrapping him, rubbing his back. Jean's patience
with him amazed him.

"Are you happy I'm here?" he asked. The words mortified
him when they came out. He'd had no idea until he spoke
them that the question was even in his mind.

"Very happy," Jean said. But Reuben, hearing what he
he wanted to hear was unconvinced. He was sure it was
said from politeness. What else could Jean say?