The following is a small part of my experiences and development
as a 25 yr. old, straight, male diaper wearer:

"Story of a 25 yr. Old Diaper Wearer"

     I've had a fascination with wearing diapers since I was in
Kindergarten.  At my Kindergarten, there was a nursery room. 
When any of the students were  misbehaving, we would be sent to a
"time-out" in the nursery where we would  have to sit until the
teacher came to get us.  I used to misbehave intentionally so I
could go to the nursery.  I would day dream as I looked at the
stacks of disposable diapers on the changing table.  I wanted to
be punished by having to wear one of those diapers.  I dreamed of
my teacher strapping me to the changing table with the little lap
belt on the changing table, and wiping my behind with a sweet
smelling baby wipe.  This never happened, but I would lie awake
at night thinking about how nice it would be to have to wear
diapers.
     When my cousins were born, I remember there being a box of
pampers in my grandmother's closet.  As a six year old, I used to
think about obtaining one of those diapers so I could try one on. 
I never did get to try one on, and my diaper fantasies were soon
put away as I started elementary school (learning to read, making
new friends, adjusting, playing baseball).  They would not
resurface until fifth grade.
     I have only studied psychology in a limited sense, but,
interestingly enough, Freud recognizes the time between
Kindergarten and adolescence as a time where sexual desires lay
dormant as the person develops in other aspects. It is in early
adolescence where experiences from early childhood may 
resurface to have an influence (potty training, traumatic
experiences, introduction to sexuality,  etc...).  This was
certainly true for me.  
     In addition to the thoughts and attractions I began having
toward girls, I also noticed that I still had the desire to wear
diapers.  I became fascinated with the thought of having
"accidents."  I was now a little older, and I figured out that if
I used enough toilet paper to line my underwear, that I could
poop my pants without too much to clean up.  I used to do this 
quite frequently, and adults in my family began wondering why I
was spending so much time in the bathroom.  By the time sixth
grade came, I was even bolder.  I noticed that some of my
underwear were old, and that my mom wouldn't notice if a few of
them disappeared.  I began pooping my pants on the way home from
school on the bus.  My biggest fear was pushing so hard that 
I peed, so I always emptied my bladder before I left school. 
There were three good looking girls on my bus that I would talk
to on the 45 minute bus ride each day, and I loved to hold
conversations with them as I pushed a big load into my Levis. 
Only on one occasion did any of them notice, but they
had no proof that the smell was coming from me.  How I longed for
one of them to clean me up.
     Another one of my cousins was born while I was in sixth
grade, and that left a supply of diapers at my grandparents'
house.  While spending the night there, I would casually pick two
pampers to wear under my sweat pants to bed.  I remember lying
awake in anticipation of trying to pee in the diapers.  I even
sneaked a couple of diapers home with me to put under my
mattress.  I realized the danger involved in my mom finding them,
but the pleasure and fascination outweighed the risk.  During
seventh grade, I decided to try wearing the diapers to school. 
My major concern at school was P.E..  In seventh grade I had P.E.
last period, so I had to ditch the diaper in the trash of a
secluded restroom by sixth period.  I never considered trying to 
wet the diaper at school--I already had discovered how
undependable they were when it came to leaking, and I knew that
if the smell of a dirty diaper was detected by one of the many
"preppy" little cheerleaders that I had crushes on, that my life
would be over.  I was never caught, although sometimes I wish 
that I had been to see what would have happened.  I probably
remember wearing diapers to school more than I actually did, but
realistically, I wore diapers in seventh and eighth grade twenty
or thirty times.  I loved the sweaty, hot feeling that a diaper
under tight jeans provides after a few hours of wearing.
It wasn't until high school that I realized what a grip my
fascination for diapers had on me.  I shall continue this story
in Part II.

I was a freshman when I discovered the "medical supply" section
of the Sears and Roebuck Catalogue.  In there was the solution to
my diaper wearing problem of baby diapers being too small to
offer any real protection.  There was a picture in the catalogue
of an adult wearing a "medium sized Attends Adult Brief."  Wow!! 
I didn't even know that there were adult sized diapers.  I knew
that if there was any way possible that I would soon be obtaining 
Attends Adult Briefs.  I patiently waited until I got my drivers
license the next year, and spent the first two months driving
around to various drugstores scoping out the adult incontinence
section.  It was a long time before I worked up the courage to
purchase any, but I didn't have a problem buying the largest baby
diapers that I could find.  I hid them out in the shed in a
filing cabinet.  I don't think anyone ever found them.
     By the time I had worked up the courage to buy the Attends,
I was dating girls.  I remember going back into town after
dropping a date off for the night, and buying my first box of
Attends.  The young girl at the counter laughed at me with one of
her friends as I left the store, and I had to wait a while for
the adrenaline rush to subside, but it was an incredible feeling 
to put on a diaper that was actually designed to fit me.  I don't
remember how many times I wore diapers to school and on dates
after that.  I became very proficient at changing in restrooms of
fast food restaurants.  Each time I wore a diaper, there was a
renewed satisfaction and pleasure.
     I continued my love for diapers into college, although I
didn't have as much time to buy the diapers and go through the
hassle of disposing/hiding them.  There was one particular time
in my freshman composition class that I remember trying to think
of a way to have contact with someone (particularly a female)
about my desire to wear diapers.  I came up with the idea of
going to a large chain convalescent aid drug store, and telling
the saleswoman that I had an embarrassing problem of bedwetting,
and that the nurse at my doctor's office had recommended that I
buy some adult briefs to wear until the "problem" was taken care
of.  I left school that afternoon to go to the store.  The first
salesperson that tried to help me was male.  Just my luck.  I
said that I was "just looking."  He told me to ask if I had any
questions.  I thanked him, and stood there drooling at the huge
selection of adult incontinent products in front of me.  
     I saw a very attractive female salesperson working nearby,
and I asked her if she could help me.  (At this point my heart
was racing so much that I thought it would explode).  In a scared
voice, I told her that I had just come from the doctor's office
because I had begun wetting the bed.  I pulled out a small slip
of paper which had "Adult Briefs" written on it.  I explained
that the nurse recommended this store and a specific type of
product.  The girl was extremely sympathetic.  She began showing
me the full line of products.  She gave me samples.  I was in a
daze as her beautiful hands touched the plastic diaper samples
that I would soon be wearing.  I acted as though I was in shock
that what the "nurse" had recommended looked so much like a
"diaper."  She said, "Well, it IS a diaper for adults."  She
showed me the alternatives, but recommended the full briefs for
night time use.  She walked up to the counter with me, and wished
me well as I walked out of the store with a box of Depends, and
about ten sample products.  It was about two days before my heart 
slowed down.  I returned to the same store with a similar story
two more times over three years, each time getting a beautiful
female to help me choose a product.
     I still like to wear diapers, but it's hard to find the time
to be discreet.  My wife knows that I like to wear diapers, but
we haven't yet implemented it into our relationship.  I think
it's just a matter of time--she's very understanding.  I'm the
one that has a hard time telling anyone else about my desire to
wear diapers.

     Have any of you had similar experiences?  I have been
surprised to read how many others have had similar fears that
they were the only one in the world partial to wearing diapers. 
I was extremely relieved to find out about this news group.  Let
me know.

Poopy Diaper