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Chapter II: Sherry’s Diary: In the Beginning…
Yes, my dear diary, I’m pretending to write to Jen again…
Well, yesterday I finally admitted it. And, what’s more, I told Kyle at the same time. He took it pretty well. He seemed more excited than surprised. I think he’s suspected my desires for a while even though I’ve never verbalized them. I know he’s noticed that when we see some hot chick somewhere, my head turns faster than his to take a look. And he must know that when it’s my turn to flip through 102 cable channels, I pause a little longer than I should when some babe in a bikini goes by. I just can’t help it; for as long as I can remember, I’ve always enjoyed looking at beautiful women.
My mother made me repress that line of thought for a long time. You’ve met her a few times, Jen; you know how she is. Sex was a taboo subject in my house growing up, something that was never discussed in any way. Even harmless fluff like “3’s Company” was banned from our TV because of the silly innuendo. And since I’m an only child, it was easier for my mom to keep her eagle eye on me.
My mother tried her best to transmit her sexual hang-ups and guilt tome, especially when I began to hit puberty. I felt so ashamed about my body that instead of talking to her when I had my first period, I had to sneak into the biology section of the neighborhood library and read a hokey kid’s book (“Your Body and You”) to understand what was going on. I couldn’t even bring myself to check it out because I didn’t want the old lady at the front counter to know I was reading it, so I hid in the back of the reference section, blushing every time someone came near.
Throughout middle school, I never talked about sex with the other girls and was much too repressed to even flirt with a boy. But there was no way to stop my heart from going pitter-patter when I saw a hot guy or girl.
In high school, it was my mother who made me join the band. I’ve always suspected it was because she didn’t want me in PE so I didn’t shower in school. That pissed me off, because I always wondered what my friends looked like naked.
You never knew my friend Dee because she moved away right before I met you. She was Puerto Rican and dark and gorgeous. Once at a band car wash, she wore short jean shorts that showed off so much of her olive-skinned thighs that I’m amazed the band director didn’t send her home. The boys enjoyed it, and I kept crouching down to wash tires beside her to be close to her gorgeous casino şirketleri legs.
That was fun, but I still wanted to see her naked. I had never even seen a good picture of another girl’s body until one day after school during my senior year. I’ve never told anyone this so please keep your mouth shut!! I was looking for a hat in my Dad’s closet for nerd day when I found a Playboy magazine buried deep in the corner. I picked it up with trembling hands, then began leafing through the glossy pages.
The first thing I found was a spread on California girls. There was only one picture per model but the variety was incredible – tan, creamy pale, black, busty, flat-chested, redheads, brunettes, blondes, orientals; you name it, they were in there. I pored over those photos like a jeweler admiring precious diamonds, slowly examining the women’s gorgeous bodies and noticing the little things; the curves of their lower backs, the muscles of their calves and thighs, the upturn of their breasts, the shapes of their nipples. I was entranced.
The most amazing thing to me was that some of the women trimmed their pubic hair or even shaved it off completely. I had never thought of that but it made me consider trying it myself. (I didn’t actually do it; for a while…)
One picture really got my attention: a very athletic-looking, tan Latina with jet-black hair lounging in a shallow bubble bath. The bubbles in the tub were low enough to expose her torso from large breasts down to her washboard abs. Her legs were bent with her knees above the suds, her trimmed pussy barely peeking out above the water line. Although I’ve never been particularly attracted to muscular women, her sizeable (but not huge and gross) wet biceps intrigued me. But it was the simmering expression on her face which really got me, and my tongue copied hers, lazily moistening my upper lip.
I couldn’t hold back. I sat right there on the floor of my parent’s bedroom, pulled down my jeans, and played with myself while staring at that amazing body. Right before I came, lust overcame good sense and I kneeled right over the face of the woman in the picture, pretending she could see my pussy up close. I came harder than I ever had but cooled quickly when I opened my eyes and saw that the magazine was drenched. I obviously couldn’t put it back in its hiding place so I mashed it down to the bottom of the kitchen garbage bin and took out the trash. My father never said anything about it. I suppose he thought my mother casino firmalari found his secret smut and threw it away.
But the truth is that it’s because of you that I began to think about making my fantasies about other women become reality. Yes, Jen; it’s all you. Let me explain.
It seems like only yesterday that we met on the first day of school our senior year. You smiled your wicked smile at some sarcastic comment I mumbled in Mrs. Thom’s math class, and the rest is history.
There were many changes in my life at that time. I met Jeff that Christmas break. You remember the night I called at 2am to tell you we had gone all the way for the first time. I know you never liked him but he really helped me overcome a lot of my mother’s sexual hang-ups. And he was also great in the sack (though he was no Kyle, of course :).
My happiness temporarily pushed my thoughts of other women to the back burner. Though I still found other girls attractive, my fantasy lovers went from about 20% males to 50%, mostly just Jeff (you remember how hot he was – mrrreor!). But you know how that ended – his fantasy lovers were 100% female and, unfortunately, some of them weren’t just fantasies.
But I hung on with that jerk for almost a year before I had enough. I’ll always be grateful to you for becoming my roommate so I could afford to stay at UCF after Jeff moved out.
It was then, when we were living together and I was still moping over Jeff, that you did something that turned me back on to women. You probably have no idea what I’m talking about so I’ll explain.
One rainy Sunday afternoon, we were just hanging out in the apartment lazing around watching TV and trying to study. You were wearing that extra-long UCF Knights sweatshirt of yours with not much else. As always, I enjoyed looking at your legs, but I wasn’t paying too much attention. You went to get some munchies from the kitchen and when you came back, you couldn’t find your pen.
That’s when it happened. You were facing directly away from me and, as I watched, you bent over to look for the pen between the sofa cushions. I can picture the sight now in my mind’s eye and it still sends shivers down my spine. As you dug around amongst your books and the cushions, your sweatshirt rose like a curtain up to your waist, revealing your lovely ass covered only by a pair of white thong panties. My eager eyes traveled up your bare legs until they were drawn to the area beneath your cheeks and between your tone thighs. güvenilir casino To my infinite delight, your panties were slightly out of place and one pouty hairless lip of your beautiful cunny was exposed to my lecherous gaze.
I thought my eyes would pop out of my head. Don’t be embarrassed; I know you didn’t do it on purpose! (Or did you???) My hand flew to my crotch and squeezed as if it had a mind of its own, immediately making a dark damp spot appear on the front of my sweatpants. Before you even got up, I ran to my room to change, quickly fingering myself to orgasm while I was there.
Ever since then, Jen, I’ve secretly lusted after you, longing to see your beautiful pussy again. More than once when we were roomies, I peeked into the bathroom while you were showering to get a glimpse of your naked bod, but I never saw much behind damn over-cluttered shower curtains. Remember the time we were a little drunk at a club and I reached up your dress, squeezed your ass, and pretended I was some jackass frat guy asking you to come back to my place for a good time? I was only half joking.
And I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I once did something else very naughty you don’t know about. You were on the phone in the living room one night while I was in the kitchen making a big dinner salad. I was about to slice a cucumber when I got a wicked idea. I pulled down my shorts and panties, ran the end of the cucumber up and down my slit until I was wet, then pushed it in.
Holding it in place, I peeked around the corner at you, then wiggled it inside my pussy for a minute or two until I silently came, holding my breath as I watched you chat unaware. Then I pulled up my shorts, sliced up the cucumber without rinsing it, and was done with the salad before you got off the phone.
As we ate, I bit my lip every time you lifted your fork to your mouth and died a little death when you praised my homemade vinaigrette. I’d love to make that recipe for you again…
Even though we’ve graduated and I’ve gotten serious with Kyle, I haven’t gotten over you. More than once, I’ve woken up in a sweat after dreaming about kissing you and more. I wonder what you would have done if I had run up behind you when you were bent over, yank your panties out of the way, and slide my finger in and out of your slit until your wetness flowed down my hand. I wish I had tried.
I only wish I could really tell you how I feel. I wish I could be sure you wouldn’t be disgusted with me, that my mother’s sexual shame wasn’t lurking somewhere inside my head holding me back. Someday, I will get up the nerve.
But until then, I’ll just keep pretending I’m writing to you whenever I write in my diary. Maybe one day I’ll leave it out for you to read… _sigh_
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