Mama vitregă italiană se pișă în scutecul ei mare la fereastră

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Nicoletta had a secret, a guilty pleasure that she only indulged in at home. As soon as she got home from work, she would throw off her stiff, formal clothes and slip into a pair of huge adult diapers. It wasn't incontinence, but a feeling of comfort and regression that enveloped him like a warm blanket. The rustling of the plastic against his legs, the soft padding that muffled every movement, gave him a sense of peace and abandonment that he couldn't find anywhere else. He moved around the house with unusual slowness, savoring every step, every rub of the diaper against his skin. Sometimes he would sit on the sofa, sinking into the cushions, and let himself be lulled by that feeling of protection and intimacy. Nicoletta knew that her pleasure was unusual, perhaps bizarre for some. But she didn't care. In those moments, with his secret well-kept within the walls of his home, he felt free to be himself, without judgment or constraints.

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