“It’s a leg pillow.”
I looked at him in confusion. “A leg pillow?” I asked, “How does that work then?”
“Well, you put it between your thighs when you go to sleep on your side,” he told me, “I thought it might help you sleep better.”
I raised my eyebrows at him but swiftly followed with a smile. His intent was good, it looked a good quality product, he’d clearly thought about it and hell, it might even work. “Thank you!”
I thanked him another way too, a leisurely afternoon that eventually involved the bed. Certainly didn’t involve sleep.
After dinner we stayed up too late, cool evening air enticing us into a little more wine than we’d planned, some chat but mainly me with a book, him playing something silent on his laptop. I finished the book, realised how tired I was and looked over to him. “Sooo tired! Going to bed now.”
He looked back, nodded, returned his gaze to the computer. “I’ll just finish this off then I can join you.”
Returning to the bedroom after brushing my teeth he was there, getting himself ready too. I crawled into bed then sat up again.
“Oh! I forgot the leg pillow!”
“Stay there,” he told me, “I’ll go and fetch it.”
He was soon back, the pillow in his hands. It was almost a love heart shape, curving in at the top and tapering as it got nearer the knees. The sides were concave too, clearly designed to help it stay in position between the thighs. I reached out for it but he shook his head.
“Lie back, I’ll help you position it tonight.”
I gave him a short ‘I am capable you know’ glare and got a ‘being nice to you, just enjoy it’ pout in response so lay back, rolled onto my side, adjusted my normal pillow into the right position and looked up at him as I raised the leg that was now on top.
“Ready!” I told him brightly, and laughed at the look on his face.
He misinterpreted my forced enthusiasm, tickled the inside of my thigh, his hand straying higher than I was in the mood for.
“Just the pillow please,” I told him, “I’m too tired.”
A soft caress as he withdrew his hand, then the pillow was put onto my lower leg, pushed up as high as it would go, and he told me to lower my leg. He guided it down with one hand, the other holding the pillow in position, but his eyes were watching me, a soft smile showing he was happy to be looking after me.
It was one reason I was with him; sometimes you want to be cared for, let someone else take the initiative. It also meant that he saw the surprise on my face, a range of mixed emotions that made him laugh.
“Is that comfortable?” he asked, both of us knowing that wasn’t the question he was asking.
I answered it anyway. “Yes,” I told him, “A lot comfier than I expected. But…”
My voice trailed off but he was patient, just cocked an eyebrow to show he was interested.
“It feels like I have a big fluffy diaper between my legs,” I told him, starting to blush.
He went wide-eyed at that. “Not what I expected,” he admitted, “but…”
His time to hesitate. I can’t cock one eyebrow so raised both, an invitation to continue.
He continued. “How do you know? Have you worn a big fluffy diaper recently? I can’t remember them as an infant.”
“I can’t either,” I said, avoiding his question. My blush probably answered it for him anyway. I deflected in desperation. “But it feels how I imagine one would.”
His look showed that he didn’t entirely believe me, but he just asked, “So is it comfortable? Think you can sleep like that?”
I nodded at him. “It’s a bit weird,” I said, “but also, I don’t know. Oddly comforting.”
Turns out it was comfortable and did help me sleep. I remembered him pulling the covers over me, but not him brushing his teeth, climbing into bed with me, getting himself settled, falling asleep. I knew he’d done that because I heard him snoring when I woke up.
It wasn’t why I’d woken up.
The flaw in his gift, a fundamental issue with its basic design and intent, was that I didn’t just sleep on my side. I move around in my sleep and I’d rolled onto my back, filling the gap between us, my arm now caught in-between. That wasn’t why I’d woken up either.
The leg pillow was soft and pliable, except from front to back, where it retained some rigidity to help it hold position while you slept on your side. That meant it didn’t give when I rolled over, instead becoming a fin sticking out from behind me, an uncomfortable lump I was now lying on.
“Ow!” I said, waking him up. Even as that happened and I worked out the cause of my discomfort the pillow moved, my body’s instinctive pain avoidance making me shift in a way that made it pop up from between my thighs.
A groggy, “Uhh. What?” distracted me and I turned my head to look at him.
“I rolled onto the pillow,” I said, “It didn’t like that.”
“Oh.” He lay on his back a moment, thinking about it. “I hadn’t thought of that. I’m sorry, are you ok?”
I rolled towards him, my far arm coming over in a cuddle, my legs intentionally crossing over and entangling his. “I’m fine,” I told him, “neither of us thought of that.”
He still had an odd expression on his face. His mouth stretched towards me for a quick kiss then he sat up, pulling the covers down. my arm falling back towards me. I started to roll away from him, back onto my back, but he caught me, motioned for me to stay still as he leaned over.
As I looked at him in confusion he looked back at me, a serious expression. My brow creased, an unspoken question.
“Looks like someone’s wet the bed,” he said, bluntly. “Come on, get out my side so that you don’t have to roll back into it.”
Well, no prizes for guessing who he felt was responsible. We both got up and looked at the damage. The sheet was wet, the mattress below it would need cleaning and drying, and the leg pillow was completely soaked.
“I…” I faltered, looking at the mess.
He hugged me. “It’s ok, you were asleep. Can’t blame you for stuff that happens when you’re asleep. I guess it worked, you were so comfortable even a full bladder didn’t wake you up.”
“It was a good sleep,” I agreed, “but that’s not… I guess my body thought it really was a big fluffy diaper.”
We both showered, squeezed into the bed in the spare room, left the laundry and the rest of the clean up for morning.
I did that. It seemed fair, I’d caused it and even though it wasn’t intended it still didn’t feel fair to make him deal with the stale smell.
Another night in the spare room, the unfamiliar bed giving me a very bad night’s sleep. Fed up with my tossing and turning he’d asked, “Should I get the leg pillow? It’ll get you to sleep at least.”
I didn’t respond well to that. “What, and piss the bed again?” I retorted, “Plus I only sleep well until I roll over. It was a lovely thought but I don’t think it’s going to be the answer.”
He got a hug to let him know I appreciated his efforts, but neither of us slept well.
The next day we both kept ourselves busy but apart. This wasn’t planned or discussed, we just instinctively avoid too much interaction when we’re tired and grumpy. So I didn’t even know he’d gone shopping until bedtime. I emerged naked from the shower, dry and smelling clean, and saw him stood there, hands behind his back, a goofy look on his face.
That got him an exasperated glare. He’s good at being strong and manly, terrible at being cute and winsome.
“What?” I asked, a parental patience in my voice.
“I got you a new gift,” he said, “Come and sit on the bed.”
I sat down and looked up at him. We were back in the main bedroom, the mattress properly aired, clean sheets and matching pillow cases. “This one isn’t going to make me wet the bed is it?” I asked, injecting some levity to make him feel more appreciated.
It was his turn to blush. “Umm, maybe?” he said, then before I could respond, “But it doesn’t matter.”
He reached down below the bed, pulled out a cardboard box, opened it. I could see two plastic packs in there, one of them open, and he was pulling out of it an extremely large disposable diaper.
“You sleep better with something thick and fluffy between your legs,” he said, “but it needs to stay there and still be comfortable if you roll onto your back.”
I stared at him in shock. “But… a diaper?”
He nodded, and smiled, gentle but firm. “That’s why it’s so perfect. Comfortable padding, but also explicitly designed to handle any nocturnal leakage.”
I winced at that description, but couldn’t argue. I didn’t want to argue either, couldn’t tell him that. I reached up, feigned reluctant compliance. “Come on then, I’ll give it a go.”
He drew it out of my reach and shook his head. “Oh no. These need fitting properly. Now lie back and I’ll make sure you’re snug and secure.”
I liked the sound of that, couldn’t help trying to escalate a little. “If you put me in a diaper, you have to change it.”
He smiled at that. “Deal,” he said.
Did he mean change, or remove? I wasn’t sure, didn’t ask. I found out the next morning when he woke me, the soft fluffy padding giving me my best sleep for months.
“Come on sleepyhead,” he said, “Need to get you out of that diaper before you get a rash.”