5 comments/ 51088 views/ 3 favorites Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 01 By: Adorable Laura I turned forty-seven in December and for the first time in my life, felt a need to record my most personal thoughts and actions. My husband told me it would put everything into perspective and pointed out that someday when I'm old and gray, I'll have these memories to cherish. Of late, I have been hopelessly preoccupied with matters of the heart. In particular, urges of a sexual nature have bordered on becoming an obsession. I'll be the first to admit that my desire had waned since I had my children, but they're gone off to university now so I'm free once more to enjoy the more physical side of loving. I'm afraid some of the romps I've indulged myself in lately have been way out of character for me, but I'm sure this has just been a temporary fit of lust and my hunger will lessen as I mature. I just pray that Doug understands my changing desires, now that my maternal phase has lessened. I know he's been disappointed so many times in the past but I just couldn't change from a doting mother into a sex-crazed slut when my kids were in adjacent bedrooms, with their ears to the walls. So my New Year's resolution is to seek out and find a new sexual identity for myself. To make sure that I don't falter in my quest for the unique and lustful loving I crave, I hereby promise to record the details of every exciting sexual encounter I have as long as I am able. ______________________ Dear Dirty Diary, Brassy trumpets, thumping drums and crashing cymbals increasingly trespassed into the soundtrack of my most lushly sensual daydream. The brassy confusion of marching bands obliterated the wind's delicate whispering through tall pine trees as well as the plaintive cries of loons. My shimmering vision of sparkling blue waters surrounding our idyllic lovers' bed, perched atop a tiny rocky island, all but disappeared. Johnston was the only person I seriously ever considered an affair with. I tried my best to blot out the racket and return to my daydream. My hand searched for comfort between my legs and to my delight, my fingertips found warm wetness seeping from my well. In my mind, I returned to erotic thoughts of my muscular friend. I remembered the first two years picking apples with him and how the other migrant pickers would tell us of his exploits with the local ladies. Whenever he tried to con me, I'd just blush, get all flustered and walk away in embarrassment. The third year, however, I had celebrated my forty-sixth birthday and now that we were empty nesters, something had dramatically altered my way of looking at life. Doug, my husband, concerned that he had been the only lover in my life, occasionally told me that taking a lover at least once in my life might be good for me. I'd read that approaching menopause brings out an insatiable craving for naughtiness in most women and I seemed to be no exception to the premise. All through the springtime, my erotic notions pertaining to Johnston had fueled many brave new sexual experiences with Doug, much to his approval. Finally toward the end of summer, Johnston and the crew arrived back in town. While walking through the mall with my husband one Saturday, Johnston spied me and said hello. After introducing him to Doug, they shook hands. We chatted for a while then carried on our way. As we strolled along, I shared the gossip about Johnston's way with women and asked him why so many women were drawn to scoundrels like him. He chuckled and said, "It's probably because he's hung like a horse." I asked him how he knew that foolishness. With remarkable authority on the subject, Doug explained, "Johnston is probably 6'-4" tall, has big feet and extremely long fingers." According to my husband, that combination of features pretty much guarantees a nine or ten inch penis on black males. A few steps later he said to me, "Johnston would probably be the best lover a woman looking for a fling could hope to find. Doug, as if he was reading my mind, pointed out that he was in splendid physical condition, undoubtedly sexually skilled from all his previous affairs and best of all, posed no long-term threat to a woman's marriage. As soon as the apples were picked, he would have to return to Barbados. The third day after I started picking again in September, my van wouldn't start after work. Johnston, a mechanic in Barbados, quickly found a loose battery cable and tightened it for me. I thanked him graciously and told him if he ever needed a ride to town, I was available. Friday, wouldn't you know it, he asked if I'd take him and a few others shopping that evening? A promise is a promise, so I agreed. Doug seemed unconcerned with my goodwill gesture, but sarcastically told me to not come home pregnant. The following Friday, they asked again, offering to pay for my gas and buy me coffee and donuts, if I'd take them shopping again. This became a regular occurrence for over a month, until one Friday, only Johnston appeared at the road for a ride. He told me the others had gone to a singles' dance at the Acres but he had better things in mind. He was dressed nicely and was drenched in intoxicating cologne. That night, he wished only to buy some nice sexy underwear for his wife and go to the liquor store, so I obliged. As the night was still young, he suggested we get some fruit juice for mix, go for a drive down by the lake and have a nice long conversation. He talked about his life in Barbados, where he lived and how he missed it. I pointed out that, other than different kinds of trees on the shoreline, Lake Ontario looked just like the Caribbean Sea in the full moon's light. The next thing I knew, he was telling me how lovely my brown eyes were, how bright and cheerful I was and how beautiful my big breasts were. He reached over and cupped my breast in his big hand then boldly began to squeeze my nipple. I instinctively grabbed his forearm to pull it away but I was overwhelmed with how soft his skin was. With virtually no bristly hair on his arm, it felt as smooth as a baby's bottom. I guess gently stoking the skin on his arm wasn't the deterrent I meant it to be and soon he had twisted and teased my nipple embarrassingly erect. I looked down in wonderment at those long strong fingers, curious if Doug really knew what he was talking about. I should have realized Johnston would view my slow reaction to his advances as a green light to proceed. In one quick movement, his hand flipped up my skirt. His fingers felt right up between my thighs, tugged down my panties then pressed against my labia. To my great surprise, I felt one, then two, and then three thick long fingers poke effortlessly into juicy old me, filling me up as fully as Doug's whole penis. It was then my eyes wandered to the bulge in his black satin track pants. I just couldn't help myself. I had to see if it was as big as he said it would be. With trembling fingers, I undid the drawstring then tugged down the waistband of his pants. I reached in through the fly of his briefs and grabbed hold of his penis near its base. I tried to pull it out but as it swelled, it just wouldn't come out through the little opening. Finally, I stretched up his underwear, pulled hard and out it popped. I fingered it lightly at first, reveling now, at the softness of his penis' skin. It straightened out like a fire-hose filling with water. I pulled back his foreskin tightly, and then glided the fingers of my free hand loosely up and down his penis. I'm afraid that Doug was quite accurate in his forecast. Oh my god, just looking at and feeling Johnston's fully erect penis took my breath away. I heard my pussy slurp louder and juicier as his fingers played around. His fearsome ebony penis wavered straight up in the moonlight with each beat of his heart. It must have been ten inches long and as thick as my wrist! The more I rubbed and played with it, the more I imagined how every bit of it might feel inside my vagina. I felt Johnston stuff his fourth finger into my vulva to ready me for the monster. Wouldn't you know it, at that exact moment I remembered Doug's smart remark about not getting pregnant. When I asked him if he had a condom, Johnston said, "Sorry my dear, but shouldn't that be your responsibility?" When I told him there'd be no intercourse without one, he laughed in his rich baritone voice then said, "Well then my dear, we'll just have to play with each other instead." I was thoroughly disappointed, but on the other hand, those four strong fingers filling my pussy while he thumbed my clitoris felt pretty damned good. I rubbed up and down his penis with my fingers. It was too thick to wrap my fingers around, so with both hands around it in a chokehold, strangled it as hard as I could, then stroked like crazy. At one point, in a lusty fit of bravery, I kissed, and then tried to suck the head of his penis. It was very uncomfortable stretching my mouth over his huge corona and it made me gag. At that point, of course, he started to moan and then sperm started to ooze out of his penis. Thank god he didn't shoot all over the place like Doug. It just welled up out the end and drooled down all over my fingers. Panicking over all this highly volatile sperm sliming down my hands, I must have used up half a box of tissues and several baby wipes cleaning us both up. On the drive home, we plotted to meet the following Friday night, this time in a motel and me with condoms. All that week, I fantasized about Johnston and prepared for my first affair. I bought twelve large condoms, figuring this didn't have to be a one-night stand. Every morning after Doug got up, I'd do pussy-stretching exercises to increase my vulva's flexibility. I figured it would have to be a lot better toned to accommodate that penis of his. Friday, before Doug got home, I showered and put on the lacy black see-through panties and bra set my husband bought me for Valentines on under my dress. I was pumped and ready for action long before we finished supper. I waited until nine-thirty for the call from Johnston that never came! The following Monday the orchard was buzzing with how Johnston went to the singles' dance late Friday night. They laughed and teased Johnston about how the fat girl that picked him up at the dance liked his dick so much she asked him to move in with her. To hide my disappointment, I reconciled myself by accepting the fact that the fat girl's "bed and breakfast" would probably be a better bet than a secret fling with a married woman. Brassy trumpets, thumping drums and crashing cymbals increasingly trespassed once more as my eyes unwillingly adjusted to the familiar realities of our bedroom. My bleary eyes read 10:30 on the alarm clock as I questioned the reason for that horrible racket coming from downstairs. The acrid aroma of burning bacon and frying eggs assailed my nostrils as gruff-sounding men bantered with authority and conviction. Occasionally more band music, the roar of crowds and shrieking whistles added to the complexity of the din. Suddenly a feeling of revulsion swept over me as I realized that today was New Year's Day and I had been trying, with fantasies of the past, to drown out the football pre-game warm up shows! Disappointment immediately rushed through me as one loving image of intimate togetherness after another fell like dominos in my heart. The bliss of my daydream seemed so distant now as I contemplated the onslaught of this most forsaken of all days. Forty-seven years of contempt for the manly pastimes of football, baseball, basketball and hockey suddenly erupted in my mind as it raced through so many memories of painful indifference from my father, my brothers, my husband and now, even my son. All the men in my life had indeed forsaken me for the lure of televised sports events. I read once that I was, by no means alone in my frustration. Some men get so caught up by the violence of these contests that they tend to mistake their women for combatants. Thankfully, Doug controls his blood lust perfectly and has never hurt me. Eventually, I gained control of my seething emotions and decided that all my pent-up passion could be channeled into better use. It was the first day of a brand new year and my mind was now in a whirl. The kids had gone to friends' houses for the football parties and Doug, for once, hadn't invited any of his cronies over for a party. We'd be alone, at least for the better part of the day. My excitement began to rise as I contemplated the day. This, I thought would be the perfect day to rekindle the love that had been dwindling for such a long time. After twenty-three years of marriage, I thought it was high time to try something adventurous and daring. Many fantasies passed through my head as I organized a game plan of my own, hoping to entice that easily distracted husband of mine away from his football and into my bed. Determined to lure Doug into my wicked little web, I had to devise a sure fire attention getter. I remembered a sexy video I saw at my neighbor Louise's when she hosted a hen party. In spite of my embarrassment, I did notice that most of the women in the movie had a shaved pubis. That, I was sure he couldn't miss noticing. The more I thought about it, the better the idea seemed. It surely would spark renewed interest, for a while, at least. I knew the hair would certainly grow back, so I set to work shaving of all my pussy hair. With a mirror between my legs and a lot of patience, I managed to shave myself clean and nick free with Doug's little sideburn trimmer. I took a nice long shower to freshen up and maybe got a little carried away with washing my pussy. I was amused how effortlessly my soap bar slipped between the lips of my vulva without that tangle of pubic hair in the way. In making sure that it was perfectly clean and sweet smelling, somehow my soap bar became lodged up inside my vagina for a while. Lots of hot water sprayed up in there with my hand-held shower head as well as some naughty thoughts about being caught in this predicament, eventually foamed it up enough to squeeze it out with some fancy vulva contractions. I meticulously rinsed my entire body with the shower's spray nozzle. It sent shivers up my abdomen whenever the hot spray tingled against my bare pubes. After I vigorously toweled myself dry, I was impressed at the pink blush of my skin. When I blew dry my hair, my towel became unwrapped, falling to the floor. My nipples stiffened with the sudden rush of cool air. Gazing at my naked image in my full-length mirror, I took stock of myself. My skin was still clear and taut. My legs were still firm and shapely. My bottom and belly were fuller and rounder than I wished but my breasts were still lovely. They certainly had sagged and spread a bit over the years and breast-feeding had greatly enlarged my nipples but they still looked great. Gently cupping my breasts, I remembered how good breast-feeding my babies used to feel, particularly with Michael. When he was really hungry, he would suckle so intensely I would become aroused. I always felt so deliciously perverted when his suckling brought on that persistent tingle at the base of my clitoris. I remember fondly, wearing loose nylon panties that would ride up and chafe my vulva as I rocked back and forth in my rocking chair. The sensations would sometimes get so stimulating; I could work myself up into an orgasm. I remember Doug commenting on how big my nipples were becoming. If only he had known! I opened my lingerie drawers and tried on a variety of outfits. The red and black bustier made me look a fat slut. The black lacy teddy made my skin look pale and a T-shirt just wouldn't do. Doug always liked silky things, so I chose a wispy pink nylon camisole with a frilly plunging neckline, my black nylon stockings and a billowy, oversize pair of pink stretchy nylon briefs that I had snipped the cotton gusset out of to heighten my sensitivity. After donning dangly silver earrings and my pearl necklace, I discreetly sprayed a musk perfume on my neck, between my breasts and down my abdomen. A touch of makeup and I was set. I eyed myself carefully in the mirror and was pleased with what I saw. I was sure Doug would be so taken with my radiant sexuality that he might satisfy the ache that had been torturing me for so long. I practiced my most alluring looks in the mirror, took a deep breath to gain my composure then strutted toward the family room. By the time I got to the den, I was so excited I began to quiver. My head was spinning, my nipples were so erect they hurt and my vagina had already started to moisten. Doug was already into the games on the television, flipping channels with the remote. My giddiness quickly subsided, however. He hadn't even noticed the grand entrance I worked so hard at! Gathering my wits, I sexily sat on the arm of his chair and made a production of crossing my legs. I teasingly tugged up and adjusted my nylons to no avail. His attention was firmly fixed on the screen. I bent over, purposely dangling my breasts out over the bodice of my camisole and passionately licked at his ear. It must have been a crucial play in the game, for he jerked his head away and muttered something about the referees. Taken aback, I thought for a few seconds, and then blurted out, "Doug, I've got a great surprise for you. Don't you want to see it?" Without even a glance, he said in an annoyed tone, " Sure, sure, just wait till half time and I'll be right there." Suddenly, all sound in the room was replaced by a terrible ringing in my ears. My eyes welled up with tears as I swear I heard the sound of my heart breaking. Wobbly in remorse, I slunk back into the comfort of my bedroom. "What in hell is wrong with him?" I sobbed, staring at myself in the mirror. I needed his touch so much right then and he had his nose stuck in that damned football game. After a few more bitter tears, I realized that I was quite capable of giving myself an even better time without him. I wiped away my tears, blew my nose and regained my composure. I gave myself a most seductive glance in the mirrored closet doors at the foot of our bed, and then settled back for some fun. I reached over to my night table and lit one of the scented glass jar candles I always keep in the bedroom. I stared at the flickering flame for a few seconds, and then put it back on the table. I found out later that Doug, not being a complete idiot, realized that he had just missed something really important. He thought about what had transpired, vaguely recalled an ear nibble, an invitation and the quickly dissipating fragrance of my perfume. Fearing being on the shit list for days, he lightly tiptoed to our bedroom, opened the door a crack and peeked in at me. I fluffed up my pillows against the headboard, then propped myself up against them. He said later I looked just like an angel, all dolled up in my beautiful pink lingerie. I spread open the low cut lacy bodice, bearing my shoulders and well rounded breasts and began to caress them. With my forefinger tips, I tickled circles around the aureoles of my nipples. They both gradually stiffened and grew erect. I grasped both of my teats at their base, and then squeezed them so intensely that their swollen tips turned white. Seeking that deep sensuous pain, I deliberately stretched my nipples out as far as my contorted breasts would allow. Coordinating my pulls with each deep breath, I stretched my breasts unmercifully a few more times. As soon as I released my grip on my nipples, my teats quickly turned dark pink as the blood rushed back into them. By then, Doug said he was supposedly brandishing an awesome erection and felt the deep gnawing of lust as he watched me pleasure myself. I suddenly began to quiver in anticipation of what I had seen done in Louise's adult movie. I picked up the candle I had lit earlier and gazed hypnotized at the flame. I swirled the glass and found myself smiling slyly at the molten wax. I knew from experience that the melted wax wasn't nearly as hot as it appeared. I was sure it wouldn't burn me, just give me an incredible thrill. I leaned back slightly, lifted up my left breast with my left hand, and then purposely tipped the candle, spilling molten red wax all over my nipple. I gasped softly as both of my nipples swelled erect and wrinkled. By the time I caught my breath, the wax had hardened all over my stiff left teat. Quickly, I lifted my right breast up, and then gave it the same treatment. As soon as that wax hardened, I sat up in bed and craving more, something I'd not seen done before. I spread my legs and sat bowlegged, pulled down the front of my panties and stretched out the waistband as far as it would go. I blew out the candle and with one quick action, poured the remainder of the wax down my pubes. I moaned out loud as the molten stream of wax coursed down my swollen clitoris and into the folds of my labia. Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 01 "Now that's foreplay!" I whispered to myself, heart pounding and breathless. Eager to admire the artistry of my labors, I slid down to the foot of the bed to get a closer look in the mirrored closet doors. I saw my sparkling eyes aglow and my skin rosy with color. Both of my nipples were completely caked with solidified teardrops of red paraffin. Here and there, small streams ran down the undersides of my breasts. With great curiosity, I peeled down the front of my panties. The sight of crimson rivulets cascading down my pubes and into my labia took my breath away. Suddenly, a revelation came to me. I, Laura, realized for the first time, that I could be sexually aroused at the very image of my own body! Indeed, anyone as sexy and self reliant as me didn't necessarily need anyone else to have a perfectly fine time. The wax peeled off easily and left behind only a faint rosy glow on my skin. As I pulled the last of the wax off my clit, I swore I heard the floor creak by the bedroom door. My eyes darted into the mirror and immediately saw the door was now slightly ajar. My cheeks blushed bright red when I picked up the sound of Doug's breathing. Gathering my wits upon realizing I'd been caught playing with myself, I felt my heart sink for the second time that day. Quickly however, it came to me that if he had been more attentive, this never would have happened. I decided at that point that he might pay better attention if I really taught him a lesson. I tugged up my panties and began to rummage through Doug's night table, producing the immense double-headed dildo he had given me as well as a hand-held corded vibrator. I gathered up my implements of pleasure plus a tube of KY jelly and rolled back onto the bed. I propped myself up so I could watch him as well as myself in the mirrors then turned the vibrator on low speed. I slowly and sensually ran the humming vibrator down the front of my panties to my pussy. I methodically rubbed the vibrator's head up and down the crotch of my panties. When I felt the lips of my vulva spread apart, I flicked the switch to high and moved the oscillating head in circles. My pussy soon began producing slurping sounds as I pressed harder and harder. Suddenly, the slurping stopped as the rounded rubber head of the vibrator sank into me. I moaned vocally for Doug's benefit, to show him how much I enjoyed the erotic irritation of the wet nylon pushing through my vulva, into my vagina. After a few minutes of this bliss, but not yet ready for an orgasm, I pulled out the vibrator's head for a peek at myself down in the mirror. Through the frothy and transparent, pussy juice-soaked crotch of my panties, I could see right up into the crimson cave of my vagina! Greatly turned on by this reflected image, I slid my right hand under my waistband and felt down inside my panties to my hot, moist pussy. I gently peeled the wet nylon out of my pussy, then shoved in two fingers and began to practice some finger moisturizing techniques. I was quire taken with the smoothness of my bald pubes and by the lack of those painful little tugs on matted pubic hairs that would normally lessen my fun. Suddenly, a revelation swept over me. I had forgotten about punishing him and had become completely absorbed in pleasuring myself. I was holding no thought of my husband in my mind and was in fact, completely captivated in watching my own eroticism in the mirror. My mind wandered further back to the origin of my newfound cravings. I recalled those adult videos Louise showed us condo girls at her hen party. It seemed to me that in the first movie, all the action centered around women, showing pained expressions, pretending to enjoy hairy men's huge penises shoved in their bums. The men never showed love or emotion, only uncaring lust as they pummeled the women relentlessly with their penises, invariably showering their faces, hair and breasts with semen at the climax. I recalled Louise introducing the second movie. She mentioned it was her favorite because it would show us all what fun we were probably missing. In that film, all of the women were cool, calm and seductively smiling. They were impeccably dressed in the most exquisite costumes and lingerie. Some sported pierced and gold-chained nipples and clits, which their female lovers tugged at most erotically. They kissed mouths and pussies wetly and passionately, teased nipples and clits lovingly and ferociously stretched their hairless pussies with incredible dildos. They really appeared to be totally enjoying their bodies, even when being tortured with hot candle wax! With all of these provocative images swirling in my head, I realized from the slurping of my four busy fingers that my vulva had become very relaxed and abundantly creamy with my pussy juice. Curious at how he was reacting to my little games, I once again focused on Doug. His attention, however, was waning. I guess my fingering myself inside my underwear wasn't nearly as exciting for him. I could see him kneading his erection but his expression was pained. I was sure he would come in any second and have me but when a distant roar came from the crowd at the football game, he turned and walked away. Sure I had lost him again to his television, I decided to finish what I had begun. I picked up and began to admire the dildo he bought for me nineteen years ago. A wicked smile came to my face as I studied it. It was about nine inches long and tapered in girth from one head to the other. The smaller head and shaft were the same size as Doug's penis. The other end, however, was as thick as my wrist, curved, vein covered and had a huge bulbous head, much like, Johnston's. Michael was a big baby and Doug somehow got the idea that I would be stretched so loose that he would no longer be able to fill me so the fool got me this to keep me happy. In fact, I was given episiotomies to ease his birth, then for some unknown reason, was sewed up even smaller than before. "Douglas" had visited a few times in the past but for many years, I was still too tender to even consider "Johnston". I dribbled a liberal amount of KY jelly along my bumpy friend and spread it lovingly with my fingers. Feeling optimistic and daring, I worked the slippery lubricant in right up to "Johnston's" head. I pulled away the damp crotch of my panties, baring my pussy. I twirled the small end of the dildo against my labia, applied a little pressure then swooned softly, as it slowly sunk into my vagina. I pumped my dildo in and out a few times, and then began to roughly rotate it around in circles. This exercise completely relaxed the muscles of my vulva. Clutching my mighty little friend with both hands, I resumed my pumping, pushing deeper with each stroke. After a while, I glanced down into the mirror doors again and I witnessed myself, smiling smugly back, with only "Johnston's" head left protruding out of my bald, full pussy. I attempted to watch myself massage my clitoris and cum, but yet another stupid, optimistic wave of desire, for the husband that bought me this wonderful toy, swept over me. I carefully devised, another sure-fire plan to pump up his ardor. I rolled out of bed and stood up. On a crazy impulse, I pulled my dildo about half way out, then stretched the tight lacy top band of one stocking over "Johnston's" protruding head, snuggling it against my inner thigh. I started to walk to the door but stopped, trembling and weak-kneed after several steps. With each stride, the dildo flailed back and forth in my vagina with slurping, staggering effects. I peeled down my stocking top, releasing the dildo, and then tucked it back into my panties instead. I of course, made a mental note to try something like that again sometime, then tickled my nipples proudly erect and took a deep breath. A few short steps down the hall, I found him in the bathroom, brushing his teeth! His hair was combed. He was immaculately shaved and smelled of freshly applied cologne. I coyly reminded him that I had something to show him. I pulled down my panties and said, "Look, I gave myself a bikini trim and found this penis hiding in all that hair!" Doug just about crapped when he saw that huge penis dangling down between my legs. We both started giggling, then he lamented, "All these years and never noticing you were a hermaphrodite sure says I'm not a very observant husband, am I?" Swatting my dildo back and forth, he said, "I guess I'd better do something about this growth of yours." I took his hand and lead him back to our bedroom. Shortly after we flopped onto the bed, he passionately kissed my lips. I opened my mouth slightly, inviting his tongue to come play. Our slippery tongues frolicked together in our mouths, darting back and forth. I sucked his tongue playfully whenever it ventured into my mouth and he responded by tickling the roof of my mouth with the tip of his tongue. Doug eventually moved his attention to my earlobes. He tenderly sucked and licked them, causing the hair at the nape of my neck to stand up and make me shiver with delight. He kissed his way down my neck, lifted off my camisole and hungrily suckled my nipples. I finally felt secure with him beside me and I focused on the blue morning sky outside my window. My tender nipples soon became pained with his sucking, so I dug in my heels and lifted my hips. Sensing my intentions, He obligingly pulled down my panties. I watched my husband intently as he studied the dildo protruding from my bald pussy. Doug slowly stroked the dildo in and out curious to see how tightly it fitted in me. Concerned at how easily my huge friend slid back and forth through my vulva, he asked, "Now how will I ever satisfy you after you've been playing with this?" I replied, "Oh Doug, you know exactly how to fill me up, so just do me." I felt my husband extract my dildo and saw him in the mirror, staring at the gaping pink tunnel that was my dilated vulva. On a whim, I guess, he thrust his tongue as deeply as he could into me and licked furiously. I squealed with delight at this unexpected little treat. After a few moments of licking and sucking my labia, he rose up to mount me. "No, on your side!" I insisted. He maneuvered onto his side, facing my left side. I lifted and bent my left leg at the knee, then rested my foot on his left outer thigh. He pushed, I wiggled and his penis slid right in. I felt him stroke in and out as I dreamily relaxed. When I clasped my hands behind my head, I felt him suckle my left teat with great care and passion. After a few moments of this delicious double pleasure, my vulva again grew very wet and relaxed. Doug made a great show of licking his left index finger as I anxiously looked on. He slipped his hand between us and under my bottom, then carefully traced his slippery finger in between his penis and the folds of my labia. On each outward stroke, he pulled his penis out slightly, inserted his finger and swirled it about in me for a second. Removing his finger, he thrust in his penis again. He repeated the technique a few times, but each time got a little slower withdrawing his finger. After a few more strokes, he just left his finger in too! My pussy slurped loudly as I felt him wiggle his finger back and forth between my vulva and his penis. As my vulva relaxed further, I whispered, "Fill me up please." I excitedly watched him lick my pussy juice off his finger, and then thoroughly wet his thumb in his mouth. In one gentle motion, I felt his thumb slide into my juicy pussy, right below my clit. I arched my back and moaned, for real, when I felt his thumb massage back and forth inside my vulva. The combined girth of his penis and thumb made me feel gloriously stuffed, but after a while, he lamented that his gentle stroking just wasn't enough to make him ejaculate. He pulled out his thumb, grabbed my hand vibrator, flicked it on and held it against the shaft of his penis and my clit. After only a few more strokes, He succumbed to the incredible sensations and I felt his hot semen spurt again and again deep inside my vagina. I took the vibrator from him and continued buzzing my clit because I was so close, but in a matter of seconds, his stupid penis shriveled up and slid out. Not nearly ready to be left in this state, I anxiously pleaded, "Muck me Douglas and don't you dare fall asleep on me!" Obligingly, he swirled his fingertips in the semen seeping from me and I felt again, the luscious thrust of his four slippery fingers splitting me open and filling me up. He wedged his hand in as deeply as it could go, spreading me to the max, then preceded to massage my strained clitoris with his thumb. However, I soon felt his pace slow and I caught his eyelids growing heavy. When he unknowingly kept rubbing the very tip of my clit, I got so jumpy I had to make him give it a rest. My momentum lost, I contemplated my predicament. I could finish myself off but I feared doing that might not satisfy that ache I still had deep inside of me. I went to the bathroom to pee, douche and clean myself up. When I came out of the bathroom, wouldn't you know it, I heard the roar of the crowd come back on the television. I found myself wondering what Louise, who had filled my head with these crazy notions, might do in a situation like this. I slipped my gooey briefs back on to continually remind me how frustrating this day had been and donned a flirty little rayon housedress. I told Doug, who indeed, was totally engrossed in football, that I was going next door to Louise's. I knocked on Louise' s door and was greeted with a warm, cheery smile. She served Irish crème coffee and some of those delightful little Sweet Escapes chocolates. Louise immediately sensed my dilemma and offered a caring shoulder to cry on. At ease now, I confessed my sexual frustrations at length to my concerned new friend. I candidly described my sexual obsessions like she was my own personal analyst. I even confided how comfortable I'd become with my personal sexuality. When I mentioned how much I enjoyed her girly video, Louise's interest grew keener. She told me she had a couple more of those tapes and offered to play them for me. With Doug so engrossed in stupid football, I gladly agreed. "Just give me a minute to find them and make yourself more comfy." Louise called out. A few minutes later, she emerged from her room wearing black silk lounging pajamas and carrying a small sports bag. She removed a tape and inserted it in her VCR. "There's plenty of room for both of us here on the sofa." Louise beckoned, as she positioned herself at one end of the couch. I watched in awe as the beautiful actresses in the Andrew Blake video, "Captured Beauty"writhed and pleasured each other. Absent mindedly, I began to tease my nipple through the wispy bodice of my housedress. Occasionally, I would glance over at Louise and each time would find her looking back and smiling radiantly. Occasionally I wondered if Louise, rather than watching the movie, was studying me. I swore she was scanning my voluptuous body the whole time. After about twenty minutes, she suddenly cried out, "Oh damn, I've got a cramp in my leg, just let me stretch out for a while." I pulled my legs up to give my hostess some room. As I did this, my skirt rode up, giving her an unobstructed view of my lacy pink panties. When Louise stretched out further, the tip of her toe came to rest as softly as a landing butterfly against my crotch. I cast a glance at Louise, who now was intently watching the screen. I decided to ignore this, figuring she just didn't realize where her foot was resting. After a few minutes of this gentle touching, she turned to me and asked, "Are you liking things so far?" Sure she was referring to the movie, I smilingly replied, "Oh yes I'm just loving it." Almost imperceptibly at first, I felt Louise's big toe press steadily harder against my pussy. Already excited by the movie, I felt myself begin to moisten. After a few more minutes of her ever-increasing pressure and fearing that she might soon penetrate me, I decided to do something about this situation that was getting so out of hand. I reached down and touched her foot. She certainly interpreted that the wrong way, for she began to wriggle and grind her big toe into the wet crotch of my panties. Almost immediately, my confused body betrayed my dwindling inhibitions. My pussy slurped audibly as she stirred up the juices held in by my panties. I saw my hand push away Louise's foot, but only to pull my gooey panties aside. I gently spat on my fingers, and then moistened the tip of Louise's big toe with my saliva. My heart pounded as she pushed her toe and in it popped! She poked her toe in and out and around in circles. It felt like a bigheaded acrobatic penis thrashing about inside me. I caught myself, for the first time ever begin to survey another woman for her sexual attributes. I slowly scanned up the leg that was giving me such immense pleasure. My eyes caught sight of a small glistening patch on the crotch of Louise's silky black pants. Feeling obligated to return the favor I stretched out my leg and began to toe her pussy back. She gasped in pleasant surprise that I was joining in so readily. When the girls in the movie turned their attention to dildos, I felt that ache deep inside of me begin to return. I sighed, "It's my husband's fault I crave being filled up like them. He's got this phobia that I've never been satisfied with his smallish penis." I explained. As our toes played, that he heard a ridiculous rumor, when we were first dating, that I had a long affair with a married man who was hung like a horse. Throughout our entire married life he'd been trying to outdo my first lover. Then, I couldn't believe I admitted to her, that by improving the muscle tone of my vulva, I'd really begun to enjoy how Doug shoves his thumb in too, when we had intercourse. Oh my, all this pussy talk has gotten me quite moist and I've gotten the toe of your nylon all wet with my sap." Louise sighed as she peeled down my stockings. She remarked, "Do you have any idea how much fun can be had with these and a little ingenuity?" "They feel so good against one's skin." she sighed again. She tugged my housedress off over my head and snuggly wound one end of my gossamer stocking around my pendulous breast and tied it in a bow. She draped the stocking up across the back of my neck, dropped it down, and then cinched it tightly with a bow around my other breast. After admiring her tit-torture bra, Louise delicately drew the other wispy stocking across my bulging breasts. My nipples swelled so stiffly erect, I feared they would soon burst. Next, she slipped her hand into my stocking, and then pulled it up her arm. She teased my pulsing teats between her fingers with the creamy-wet toe of my nylon. I grimaced a bit when Louise squeezed and stretched my teats. She asked if they were always tender, so I had to tell her they'd been through a lot today, but might enjoy a little torturing at a later date. Louise carefully undid the bows she'd tied in my other stocking and freed my sensitive boobies, then had me slouch down on the sofa and lift my hips. She pulled my panties down around my ankles, and then had me lie on my side, with knees spread wide apart. She softly draped a stocking across my pussy, and then stretched it taut between her hands. She drew the silky nylon back and forth, like a violin bow, causing my labia to spread indecently. She then sawed the taut hosiery between the wet folds of my labia with abrasive, silky ecstasy. "Enough teasing!" I whimpered, " I need a fill-up right now." She told me she had just the recipe for me and went to the kitchen. As I twiddled my fingers about in my pussy to stay excited, I heard the fridge door open and close, water running in the sink, the microwave humming for a few moments, then the clatter of dishes. Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 01 "Just keep your motor running for a few more minutes." she called out as she scooted into her bedroom. After a few short minutes, Louise, dressed only in sheer black pantyhose, carrying a tray into the living room. As she placed the tray on the coffee table, I found myself admiring her petite little body. She was a fine featured, pixie-like woman with short, tapered black hair, had sparkling dark eyes with tiny little crow's feet at their corners and a caring smile. Her slim, almost boyish figure was accentuated only by the nipples on her pert little breasts and her dark triangle of pubic hair peeking through her pantyhose. Aware of my stares, Louise cupped her firm little breasts then teased her nipples. "Pretty small compared to yours, but check these out" she said, smiling. Her dark pink areoles surrounded immense pink teats that had grown the size of ripe raspberries. As I scanned down her flat belly, I couldn't help but notice a small gold chain curled up between her mound of pubic hair and her pantyhose. Louise smiled provocatively when I asked her about it. "I'll show you," she said, reaching for her reading glasses on the end table. She pulled the small cord from the arms of her glasses. Then she slid her hand down inside the front of her pantyhose and retrieved the mysterious gold chain. She pulled back the tiny vinyl-retaining clip at one end of her glasses cord to form a loop. I watched in wonderment when she positioned the loop onto her erect left teat, then cinched the clip tight. She then threaded the opposite end of her cord through a clip on the mystery chain, and then snared her right teat firmly with that loop. "Pull my string and I'll follow you anywhere!" Louise taunted. The other end of the gold chain, she explained, was attached to her clit by a tiny glass nipple bulb. "It feels best when you tug where they come together." she coached. I obliged and gently pulled as she requested. Her bulging nipples stretched incredibly as I pulled out on the cord and she moaned in sheer ecstasy whenever I pulled up as well. "Just come on up and give me a tug anytime." Louise cooed. Now what about you?" she asked, composing herself. "Is Madame ready for this sumptuous treat I have prepared?" Louise joked in her best snooty French accent. I eyed the platter and found only two extra-large carrots and a jar of mayonnaise. Closer inspection revealed that she had rounded off the pointed tips and dug out the stems at the big ends. I'm sure I blushed like crazy when I suddenly realized they weren't for meant for eating. Louise sat down beside me on the couch and plucked the larger carrot from the platter. She dipped it fully into the mayo, and then thoroughly spread the salad dressing over the entire carrot. I must have looked apprehensive when she glanced at me. "It's just food, Laura. "If it's good enough to eat, it's good enough to fuck!" she assured. Louise smeared the excess mayo on her fingers into my labia. I heard myself sigh when she pushed that carrot into my vulva and I heard myself moan when I felt her shove that whole carrot deep into my vagina. After a few minutes of stroking me delirious, Louise suddenly announced, "And now Madame, for your pleasure, please witness a feat of extraordinary muscle control!" She peeled her pantyhose down around her thighs, and then dipped the other carrot in mayonnaise. Louise positioned the tapered tip of her carrot up against her vulva, and then cradled the big end down against the crotch of her pantyhose. She pulled her pantyhose back up snuggly, stretching them tightly over the protruding carrot. "Presto Magnifico" she called out, then vigorously undulated her hips to and fro. Slowly, but surely, the tension of her tightly stretched pantyhose drove the carrot deeper and deeper through her relaxed vulva, into her vagina. "Neat parlor trick!" I applauded. When I asked her how she developed such wonderful muscle control, she replied, "Self preservation." She confided in me that Marc, her ex-husband could be kind of rough so she had to find a way to relax herself quickly so he wouldn't hurt so much. We sat facing each other, with legs spread apart. We returned to slowly and caringly stroking and rotating each other's carrot in complete bliss. Because the tension from the pantyhose she was still wearing kept pushing her carrot back in, I mostly amused myself by just pulling it out, then watching it slide back into her. Eventually I tired of this a bit and pointed out that there wasn't much room on the sofa to do much else. "Perhaps then, Madame would prefer to lead me to my boudoir." Louise suggested. With carrots still protruding from our pussies, I lead her pulled her steadily along by her nipples cord and clit chain. Once comfortably on her bed, I felt strangely driven to suck deeply on Louise's hugely swollen nipples. I released the clips from her teats and squeezed the sucker's little rubber bulb to release the sucker from her clit. Recalling what I enjoyed Doug doing to me, I carefully closed my teeth on the base of her erect teat and then pulled gently. I asked her if she could feel a tingling sensation in her clitoris when I did that. She replied, "If I concentrate hard enough, I can feel a vague sensation, something like butterflies in my stomach, but at the base of my clit." After discussing that, it occurred to me to ask Louise if she too, ever became aroused while breast-feeding. With a wistful look, she quietly explained that she was barren and could never have children. "Marc left me because I couldn't give him a son." she confided in me. Then she lamented, "He'd come home from drinking with some foolish notion that I couldn't conceive because he wasn't fucking me hard enough to get his sperm into my uterus." "In a drunken stupor, he'd screw me so savagely, I wouldn't be able to walk for hours." she recalled. " He woke up one morning after and caught me massaging my sore pussy and went ballistic, saying I couldn't conceive because I was always playing with myself, then stormed out and left me." Louise tearfully confided. I hugged her tightly against my breast like a child and tenderly kissed her head. I told her, "You poor thing, men just don't know anything, do they?" "Women are so much nicer in every way," replied Louise, nestling her cheek against my soft breast. "Everyway!" she repeated, turning her head and kissing my nipple. I had Louise lay back against her pillow, then again suckled her bloated nipple. Pausing to tickle her other teat, I pointed out that a man could never understand how comforting breast-feeding could be. I also remarked upon how nice it was to not feel a bristly, stubbly chin rasp across the soft skin of my breasts, as Louise lovingly took her turn suckling my nipple again. " Men always squash the breath out of you when they're on top of you!" Louise returned as I maneuvered around to face her pussy. "And men can't begin to carry on a conversation while they're having sex!" I replied as I pulled off her pantyhose and extracted the carrot from her pussy. When I painstakingly licked the mayo from her gaping vulva, Louise replied, "And only women truly know how to satisfy another woman." "And men certainly never know what hurts!" Louise panted, undulating her hips rhythmically as I ferociously licked the underside of her swollen clit. "And what feels really, really good!" Louise stammered, shuddering in the throes of orgasm. "And how they never seem to know what feels really good when it hurts!" I added, hoping to whet her curiosity further, now that she was beginning to calm down from her climax. For reasons I could never hope to explain, I heard myself plead out loud, "Would you please pretend that you're my gynecologist?" I've got this ache so deep inside of me and I'm sure you're the one who can relieve it!" Somewhat confused by my request, Louise said, "Let me get this straight, you want me to give you an internal examination, like a gynecologist, just to scratch your itch?" I felt so perverted as I explained the fantasies I conjure up whenever my doctor examines me. "Well' I certainly don't have any stirrups her on my bed, so what will we do about that?" she queried. "Oh, just lay me on my side so I can watch and I'll be fine." I replied. When Louise asked if she should wear latex gloves like a doctor, I said, " It would make my fantasy complete if you had some." Louise slipped into her bathroom and returned wearing white latex gloves she kept for "dying her hair". She dipped her slender little fingers into the mayonnaise jar and to my delight, spread slippery salad dressing right up past her slender wrist. She scooped a little more out to smear my labia with, then reached toward my pussy. She smiled and said my bald pussy looked like a smooth ripe peach, just waiting to be split open and consumed. She easily slid two fingers into my anxiously waiting vulva. She wiggled her fingers back and forth, like little walking legs to relax me further. Soon, loud slurping showed I was more than ready. She pushed all four fingers in up to the web of her thumb, rotated her hand back and forth a few times then tucked her thumb snugly between her fingers. By applying pressure while manipulating her thumb joint, I felt Louise's tiny hand stretch apart my vulva and slide into my hot slippery vagina! I couldn't help but watch in awe as her hand disappeared from view. A little uncomfortable with the girth of her hand, I told her to make a fist and push her whole hand in up past her wrist. With that done, I felt much less pressure spreading my vulva. "Do me a little." I pleaded. Complying, she rotated her clenched little fist to and fro, while with the help of her other hand, stroked in and out as deeply as she could. Completely out of control, I whimpered, "Fist me good!" and grunted obscenely whenever her strokes punched into the back of my vagina. When my hips began to undulate wildly, Louise must have realized I was close and strongly pulled out her fist between muscle surges. The additional stretching of my vulva drew my labia tight on my clit and I just exploded in a frenzied, writhing orgasm. My poor ravaged nipples swelled painfully erect as my body shook and rocked in ecstasy. As my entire chest flushed in a rosy glow, Louise warmly held my rock hard teats to ease their agony as the final tremors of climax ebbed from me. Louise got out of bed, slipped into the bathroom, and then promptly returned with a hot, soapy washcloth and soft towel. She carefully bathed and tenderly dried my hypersensitive pubes. We lovingly dressed each other between caring hugs and kisses. Concerned over my lengthy absence, I thought I'd better look in on my husband, who'd probably been wondering what I'd been up to. I stood up to walk, but my knees buckled under me! I told her this was as bad as when I tried to walk with my dildo in me, while stuffed in my stocking top. "My, my, it seems that my new lover is every bit as perverted as me." Louise quipped. I told her that must make us kindred spirits. After a few minutes, I was able to walk shakily. As we tidied up, I carried the platter back to her kitchen, sliced up the carrots for my compost box and wrapped them in some cling wrap. "Don't be a stranger, now!" she stressed as she helped me to the door. Louise told me she read once that Elvis Presley's favorite food was peanut butter and bananas and his favorite pastime was watching women wearing nothing but white nylon panties wrestle in his bed. "Wouldn't it be fun to combine both his passions at the same time?" she suggested as I pecked her nose with a kiss. As soon as I returned to my condo, Doug called out, "What's shakin' babe?" Smiling broadly, I thought to myself, "Knees and pussy mostly." He grabbed the carrots out of my hand and said, "Hey, munchies." I stood there in silent bewilderment as he munched them down. Half way through them, he burped, sniffed his breath then said, "There's something familiar about that veggie dip, but I can't quite figure out what it is." I heard my voice casually reply, "It's probably all that Bearded Clam Sauce that soaked into the carrots so eat them all up, Darlin', they're good for you." Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 02 Dear Dirty Diary, About a month and a half had passed since my New Year's Day love fest. Like most women, I seem to have an immense capacity for storing up sexual rapture, brought on by a good, solid orgasm. Louise and I had only exchanged pleasantries and non-sexual chitchat since. Perhaps an underlying guilt on my part had also cooled my sexual desires somewhat. Doug had been surprisingly attentive and had driven me crazy with his continual advances all month. He had given me a bit of a break during my period, but it was over now and he knew it. As was my nature, I began to feel frisky immediately following my period and I was wondering what was in store for today, Valentine's Day. Doug had indeed, been busy buying me special little gifts. He smiled impishly when he handed me a bouquet of my favorite red roses, a heart-shaped box of chocolates and a huge mushy card filled with passionate lines of adoration. He saved until last, a fancy gift bag that he blushingly gave to me. I curiously opened the bag and retrieved a silky, crimson red camisole and panty set. As I ran my hand across the delicate sensual texture of the outfit, I immediately understood his attraction to it. When I asked if he thought I should model his outfit right then, he said, "Of course!" I told him he had to check out his presents first. Inside his Valentine's bag, he found my provocative perfumed card and an equally silky pair of red and gold rayon boxer shorts. "Well, I suppose you think I should model these right now." he mocked. "Of course." I giggled. I told Doug to give me a minute to get changed and freshened up as I walked into our bedroom. He changed in the bathroom and while strutting to our room, called out, "No wonder you girls like to wear this silky underwear. It feels so good I think I'm getting a hard on!" As Doug entered our room, he couldn't help but gawk at me, sitting tantalizingly on the bed, showing off my new outfit. As he approached the bed, I brazenly leaned back and spread my legs slightly to give him an enticing glimpse. In my faithful mirror doors, I saw that the simple, unadorned red camisole draped gracefully across my breasts and flowed down my stomach, ending just above my navel. A short glimpse of my velvety pink skin led to the waistband of my sleek crimson panties. To enhance my image, I sucked in my belly and thrust out my chest. As he excitedly crawled into our bed, I lustfully eyed the growing bulge, stretching his wispy boxer shorts. I rolled onto my side, facing him, and then gave him my most seductive smile. I prefer lying on my side while kissing, because his looming presence over top of me often intimidates me. On our sides, we both are equals in love. I closed my eyes, and then hungrily sucked the tongue right out of his mouth, taking him completely by surprise. Doug tenderly ran his fingers through the hair behind my ear. I shivered with his touch and felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. We kissed long and hard, like the passionate lovers I knew we'd always be. During a particularly soulful kiss, the thought of Louise's uniquely passionate kisses briefly crossed my mind. I still had not quite come to terms with that adventure, which still remained vivid in my mind. His roving hand quickly brought me back to the reality of the moment as he softly caressed my breasts with his fingertips. He ran slow, delicate patterns around each breast, starting near my armpit, then spiraling towards my nipple and ending by circling my aureole. Three spiral tickles on each breast quickly sent both teats poking up, as hard as acorns, through the sheer nylon of my camisole's bodice. Spying my enticing little morsels, Doug firmly clenched his teeth on the base of my left teat, while continuing to tickle and squeeze my right nipple. He soon made my clitoris tingle and I sensed my vagina moistening. After a few minutes more of my favorite nipple tortures, he released his grip on my flattened throbbing nipple and traced his fingers across my new panties, down my pubes. I shivered with anticipation and spread my legs when I felt his fingers push against my pussy. Since I was nicely lubricated and obviously ready for fun, Doug firmly dug his fingers into the crotch of my stretchy Antron panties. As he wiggled his fingers to and fro, I felt them sink deeper into my hot, wet vulva. Seeking out the formidable bulge in his shorts, I teasingly ran my fingernails up and down my husband's surging penis. I slipped my warm fingers through his fly and fished out the tip of his penis. I wrapped my hand around his silk-cloaked shaft, squeezed with all my might then stroked his penis forcefully. This spurred him on and he pushed even harder, piercing through my vulva, into my slippery vagina. "Sharesees!" I announced, moving my right hand down my abdomen to my pussy. I dug two of my fingers into myself, on top of his and said I wanted to play too. Digging my fingers in even deeper, we wadded the crotch of my panties further into my vagina. Guiding his fingers constantly, I made him swish around inside my vagina just the way I liked best. Doug ran his free hand down and pulled his entire penis through his fly. I quickly encircled his penis with my slim fingers. He then wrapped his strong fingers over mine and in turn, helped me stroke him up and down. After a few minutes of shared masturbation, I whispered that I needed him inside me. I rolled onto my back and spread my legs. He crawled atop me and kneeled. He grasped his penis and swirled it against the large patch of pussy juice that darkened my panties. My vulva relaxed and I felt his penis coarsely poke the frothy crotch of my panties right into my vagina, mimicking what he'd seen me do with my vibrator on New Year's Day. Doug said I felt really restricted poking around like that, so he pulled out right away. He pulled my panties out of the way and entered me again. He must have felt me a little tight and dry, so he pumped me from side to side on an angle, with each thrust. After a few seconds of this, my vulva had relaxed so much I could hardly feel him any more. He maneuvered himself into a pushup stance and continued his thrusts deep into my vagina. That, I did feel, especially when our pelvises bumped together, but that also signaled that his little man had filled me up as best it could. Doug stopped abruptly, saying that the chafing and the constant tension of my panties' leg band rubbing against his penis was starting to feel too good! My legs were tiring quickly from being elevated, so I gladly asked him if he wanted me to roll over. Normally he would continue doggie-style intercourse with me, poking in his thumb as well, to give me the sensation of a much bigger penis. However, my husband suddenly blurted out, "I bought another surprise for you at the lingerie shop, a special condom I thought you might enjoy." Assuming it would be one of those silly French ticklers we used when we were dating, I grudgingly agreed. Doug sat on the edge of the bed and unwrapped it from its crinkly package. With his back to me, he rolled the condom on. " Well, whip it out and let me see it!" I said impatiently. When he crawled back into bed, I immediately realized it was no ordinary condom. With a growing blush on my face, I said, "What in hell is this supposed to be, Moby Dick?" He explained to me that it was sort of a "padded condom". "Padded, I think it's a bit more than padded, Douglas!" I said. "They called it a vibrator sleeve at the store." he explained. I leaned over for a closer inspection of his newest sex gadget. The shaft was wrinkled and heavily veined, half again thicker and at least three inches longer than his normal hard on. At the end was a hugely bulbous and sinister-looking head. I squeezed the shaft and found it comfortably soft and smoothly textured. When I felt the heat of Doug's penis radiating through its latex skin, I decided this phenomenal erection somehow seemed a part of him. For that reason only, I chose to humor him. However, I didn't know about that head, looking so evil and repulsive. I told Doug that of all the things he'd brought home, this one surely took the cake. Hopes dashed and looking like a sad little boy from my teasing, his super penis started to droop. Initially amused at his response to my taunting, I found myself, nonetheless, overwhelmed by the challenge this mighty member posed to my sexual capacity. He instantly perked up when I said "If you expect to get that silly thing into me, we'd better make sure it's good and slippery." I grabbed the KY jelly from my drawer and told him to lie on his back. I squirted a puddle of lubricant into my palm, and then painstakingly spread it all over his thick, extended penis. I crawled onto the bed, swung my leg over and straddled him. Surprising him with my brashness, I said, "If I'm going to fuck that horse's cock, I might as well ride you like one too!" Grasping the shaft of his penis, I wiggled it back and forth against my vulva. I lowered myself carefully at first, then pushed harder against it but it just wouldn't go in. I wiggled and pushed a little more, unsuccessfully, then announced I had an idea. I climbed off him and directed my husband to lie right on the edge of the bed. I told him I still wasn't horny enough but maybe I could sit down on it if I watched us in the mirror. I reached for the tube of KY, spread lots of it over all four of my fingers, and then shoved them up my pussy. I squirted another blob on the ugly head of his penis, spread my legs and backed up onto his erection. My eyes looked up and I was simply appalled at the scene in my vanity's mirror. " Wouldn't your children be impressed with this?" I thought briefly while staring at our reflections. Luckily, those inopportune pangs of motherhood gave in to lust immediately after I decided that love making, is ours to enjoy, whether natural or artificially enhanced. I stared at myself again and thought, "Just look at yourself, you pathetic slut, you are so bad!" I watched the ugly penis head split my vulva, and then found myself wondering about the man whose penis was used to cast the mould for this condom. No nice man would have that repulsive a penis. Easily, he could have been a rapist, a renegade outlaw biker or maybe even a Johnston. He could have been a devil worshipper or even the Devil himself for all I knew! I watched the ugly penis head stretch open my poor little vulva then pop into my vagina. "This is so perverted." I whispered to myself as I sat down on Doug's lap, causing the huge penis to steadily disappear deeper into my vagina. When I felt the evil penis stretch the very depths of my vagina, I suddenly thought of how much it felt like Louise's little fist. Oh my God, I was thinking of my lesbian lover, while fucking my husband, who was sporting the Devil's dick! When Doug's Devil penis plowed into the end of my vagina, I felt so stuffed. I stared at my image in the mirror, hypnotized by the undeniable realization that the entire awesome member was inside of me. I had consumed the Devil's dick and had triumphed over Satan!!! Doug brought me back to reality when he began to pump his hips up and down slowly. I moaned in delight as his padded penis completely ravaged my vagina. The sensations of being stretched and crammed full so completely were both exhilarating and trying. It slid well back and forth in me because of all the lubrication, but it was so big. There was no longer any question in my mind as to what Johnston might of felt like inside of me. My poor vulva was stretched so taut that each stroke dragged the hood of my labia tightly across my clit, driving me crazy. All of a sudden, I began to feel really weird inside, like I didn't know whether to pee or cum. I told Doug I didn't think we should do this anymore. When he asked what was wrong, I lifted up off his penis and my husband stared in wonder as a watery stream gushed from my pussy and dribbled down his hip onto the bed. I asked him if he could feel much through his condom. Doug confessed that he could only feel my warmth through the thick spongy skin of the vibrator sleeve. I told him I felt delightfully dirty and evil when crammed full with that thing on him, but right then, I'd feel more at ease with just his bare penis and maybe that spiky little collar thing he kept in his drawer. He removed the evil penis sheath and rummaged through his drawer, eventually producing the "vaginal exciter" I craved. It was just a little latex ring with about twenty soft little half-inch long spikes protruding from it. I watched anxiously as he stretched it over his penis and positioned it just beneath his corona. I crawled into bed and lay down flatly on my stomach. I kept my right leg straight and pulled up the other, provocatively inviting my prickly-penis husband to come enjoy me. Like a cat in heat, I tilted my head back and smiled wantonly at my tomcat. He climbed onto me, placing his left knee between my legs and the other beyond my right out-stretched leg. With his left hand, he guided and pushed his stiff penis into my vulva. I felt him stroke scratchily in and out of me for a few minutes, then lean over and nibble my ear. I shivered in response so he immediately pulled out and squeezed my nipple delightfully hard. He returned stroking, this time burying his penis as deeply in me as he could, and then abruptly stopped. I watched lustfully over my shoulder, out of the corner of my eye, as he thoroughly wetted his left thumb in his mouth. I closed my eyes slowly when I saw his hand move down toward my pubes. I felt his slippery thumb push in along the underside of his buried penis into my waiting pussy. I moaned softly when I felt his thumb wiggle about and tease the underside of my clitoris. He began slow rhythmic pumping again, while continuing his thumb caresses, making my vagina slurp loudly. When my husband simultaneously shoved his entire thumb and its knuckle deep into me as well as his penis, I felt stretched taut as a guitar string. I felt so wicked and depraved, hearing my pussy squawking so obscenely. With my fingertip, I feverishly rubbed my poor swollen clitoris, knowing that he would ejaculate shortly after slipping in his thumb. The spikes of Doug's collar tickled my vagina so excruciatingly; it caused creamy pussy sap to seep out with each of his strokes. He worked his thumb all around his penis, inside my vulva for a while, producing absolutely luscious sensations. He briefly rested it inside my vulva as he stroked, then slowly but surely, increased outward pressure against the right-side muscles of my vulva, spreading me open so far I could feel cool air enter my gaping pussy. Suddenly, I heard him start to breath heavily, and then felt his hot semen spew into my vagina as his penis surged and his body shuddered. Relieved after I felt him ejaculate, I closed my eyes, got really comfortable and hoped he'd do something to make me cum. Instead, I felt, what I'm sure were all four of his fingers, squeeze in to muck me. He pumped, rotated and wiggled his fingers all around inside my pussy. He pushed harder and harder, I guess to make sure I was completely dilated and filled to my heart's content. Frankly, I couldn't stretch any further and he was beginning to hurt. I tickled my clit feverously, but he just kept on pushing. Louise's tiny fist in me hurt just right, but his big hand was another thing altogether. To end the torture without alarming him, I quickly faked an orgasm. Pleased with himself for satisfying me so quickly, he nodded off to sleep, but as I sat on the toilet my pussy felt violated. The challenge of the "Devil's dick" and the tickling of the collar had been fun and had felt pretty good, but all of those fingers were a bit too much for me. I douched and washed my poor little pussy and to my surprise, it immediately felt no worse for wear. I guess it wasn't damaged at all, just aching from being over-exercised. By the time I made my way back from the bathroom, Doug had drifted off to sleep. He drowsily opened his eyes, disturbed by my dressing. I suggested he just relax and told him, "I had things to see and people to do." then scurried off. With him sleeping soundly, I tried to amuse myself. First, I tried playing some games on the computer, but my body was still all aglow and I just couldn't drag my mind away from my throbbing pussy long enough to enjoy my game. My left hand just kept creeping back to my lonely little pussy. I opened a paperback and began to read, but somehow reading about other people's passions just intensified mine. I browsed the local paper, finding solace only in the "Companions Wanted" columns by imagining the plight of all those poor lonely people. When I spotted the "Women seeking Women" section, I immediately thought of how delightful my experience with Louise had been. I abruptly realized that I hadn't been much of a friend since our little fling. I thought of how crushed Louise must have felt. I didn't think I was shunning her because of guilt feelings. It was just that I had been so sexually exhausted by the affair, I simply hadn't thought about sex until today's romp. I guess I'm one of those women who can store up sexual ecstasy like a camel stores water in its hump. I thought I must do something about this right then, for I was so lucky to have not only one, but two passionate lovers at my age, when so many had none. I focused on Louise's parting words after our little tryst and remembered about Elvis' fetishes. In the kitchen, I gathered up a jar of peanut butter, a loaf of bread, some bananas, and put them on Louise's platter. Leaving my snack on the counter, I tiptoed into the bedroom and retrieved my beige nylons, a bra, panties and a pair of round red plastic earrings. From my closet, I pulled a white and black polka-dotted cotton shirtdress and white high heel pumps. Doug hardly stirred as I crept out of our room. I hung my robe on the bathroom door, and then tugged up my panties. I hooked the front clasp of my flirty little white nylon bra. Then, sitting on the toilet, pulled up and smoothed out the wrinkles from each nylon stocking. I put on a little eyeliner and brushed mascara on my lashes. I carefully applied bold red lipstick, doused myself in perfume and put on my red earrings. "No, no, Elvis would never approve." I thought, surveying myself in the mirror. High thigh cotton briefs were not even invented in the 1950's. Panties had to be nylon and much fuller fitting to be authentic. Realizing I had to go to the mall for a Valentine's card and flowers anyway, I decided to buy new underwear for the occasion. I hurriedly slipped on my polka-dot dress and shoes, then whisked out the door with my goody platter. My trip to the store proved to be a hilarious experience. As I clomped through the mall, I became increasingly aware that a number of men stared lustfully at me as I wiggled along and their wives were giving me nasty looks. Suddenly, I felt just like Marilyn Monroe in the "Misfits"! At the department store, I bought flowers, a nice card, extra large white nylon spandex briefs for her and extra-extra large for me. A chocolate bunny at the till completed my presents for Louise. As soon as I got into my car, I pulled our panties out and carefully snipped out their cotton crotch inserts so they'd feel exactly like '50's underwear. I was back at the condo in a flash and found myself nervously knocking at Louise's door with my offerings and my heart on a platter. Louise answered her door and immediately flashed me a radiant smile. I felt so relieved with her warm reception. Louise graciously accepted her Valentine's gifts, but seemed confused at the largeness of the underwear and the peculiar array of foodstuffs. I reminded her about Elvis' fetishes. Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 02 Louise smiled wickedly and said, "The bananas and peanut butter aren't for sandwiches silly. They're for playing with!" I blushed brilliantly, immediately realizing the potential of her statement. "This could get really messy." Louise remarked as she led me to her bedroom. "I'm going to strip the bed and put on some old sheets, just in case," she explained. "Would you be a dear and warm up your peanut butter jar in the microwave for a few minutes?" Louise asked while changing the bed linens. When I asked her if we were going to wrestle for real, she began to unbutton my dress and said, "It'll probably be more like tickling and groping, my voluptuous opponent." When I asked if there were any rules for this contest, she replied, "For sure no punching, scratching or kicking." I asked her how the winner would be established and she suggested that whoever got groped, licked or poked the most times in five minutes could be the loser or winner, depending upon your point of view. I stepped out of my dress and draped it on a chair. As I undid the clasp of my bra, Louise lustily watched my full, rounded breasts burst out of their cups. I sat on the edge of the bed and bent forward to peel down my stockings. Louise couldn't contain herself any longer and gently cupped both of my dangling breasts. She squeezed my nipples, then quipped, "Pre-game warm-up exercises!" Louise pulled me up gently by my erect teats, tugged down my panties, grabbed the bigger pair of Valentines briefs, then pulled them up my legs. Pulling up steadily on the waistband, she stretched the spandex panties almost up to my breasts. "Wow, there's enough room inside these for both of us!" she exclaimed. "Let's see about you, then." I suggested. I pulled Louise's bulky knit sweater up and over her head, peeled down her sleek black tights and undid her little lace bra. I knelt before her and then pulled down her frilly little panties. I couldn't help but notice that the crotch of her panties was already wet as they slid down her thighs to her slim ankles. Louise stepped out of them and into the huge white underpants I held open for her. Like Louise, I tightly tugged up the billowy panties on my petite companion. We giggling like schoolgirls when we found that, while hers were just baggy fitting initially, they could be stretched up and over her breasts to form sort of a strapless teddy. As I pulled back down the panties' waistband, it flicked across Louise's prominent nipples roughly, causing them to jut out, awesomely erect and ever so luscious. Louise got her cooking timer from the kitchen, set it for five minutes. "Laura, wrestlers usually shake hands before a match, don't they?" she asked as she crawled onto her bed. I agreed then pointed out that middle-aged lovers should snuggle instead. She wrapped her arms around me, we hugged then she pointed out that a kiss was undoubtedly better than a handshake. Our tongues played lustfully, darting in and out of each other's mouths. We kissed long and passionately then ended with caring little pecks on each other's noses and necks. We took turns nibbling each other's ear lobes, filling us both with sensual delight. Louise's whisker-free skin was such a lovely change from Old Stubbly. When I drew my tongue down her breast toward her nipple, Louise suddenly pulled away and announced, "It's time for Elvis' main event!" Unsure of what Louise had in mind, I kneeled on the bed just like her. "Ready, set, go!" she warned, quickly scrambled towards me and bowled me over on my back. As fast as lightening, tiny Louise sat on my chest and pinned down my arms with her knees. I struggled to free myself, but couldn't shake off my wiry little French Canadian. "My fall!" she gloated and gave my nipples a painful little twist. "Do you give up yet?" she taunted, then reached back and poked her thumb firmly into the crotch of my panties. " You little bitch!" I spat, rolling over quickly while she was still off balance. I whirled about face and pinned Louise face down by straddling her and then sitting down on her upper back. In control, by virtue of my position and greater weight, I took control of my pretty little opponent and soundly smacked her ass. I pulled down the back of her panties and admired my reddening handprint across her round little derriere. I massaged her bum soothingly then playfully goosed her bottom. When she gasped approvingly, I traced my fingers down and toyed with the pussy hairs of my prisoner. Louise spread her legs wide to aid me in my explorations. At this point, I accused her of being too easy and crawled off her. Besides that, I told her, I was kind of hungry for a tasty snack. "There's nothing more sumptuous tasting than warm, runny peanut butter." Louise remarked as she removed the jar from the microwave and returned to the bedroom with her tray of tasty treats. I dipped my finger into the warm creamy textured peanut butter and savored a taste. "This is almost better than chocolate." I remarked and offered a fingertip taste to her. "Mmm." she purred as she sucked the brown goop from my fingers. Louise dipped her fingers into the jar, spread lots of peanut butter all over her nipples, and then laid down on her back in bed. I asked her if this was her idea of snack time and she seductively answered, "Sure is." I bent over and began to lick her right nipple. It grew so spectacularly hard and erect as I fed. I joked, "I didn't realize this peanut butter was the crunchy kind for I seem to have found a whole peanut where your nipple was a second ago." When Louise suggested I had better chew it up then, I obligingly clenched my teeth steadily tighter on her swollen teat. I swear I could feel Louise's heart pound as I bit down harder on her throbbing nipple. Satisfied I had inflicted enough pain on that one, I shifted my attention to the other one. I hungrily licked and sucked all the peanut butter off that nipple as well. Again I nibbled torturously on her wonderfully bloated teat, sucking and stretching it between nips and tongue swirls. With my appetite for peanut butter satisfied, I simultaneously ran circles around the aureoles of both her nipples to maintain their erectness. When they both swelled rosy pink, wrinkled and bumpy, I squeezed the bases of her incredible teats ruthlessly then stretched them out in surges. "I just love the way you torture my titties, Madame." she sighed. "You've even got my clitoris tingling," she continued. "Oh good," I confessed, "I was always curious if it was just me that gets turned on when my teats are squeezed and pulled." "By the way, wouldn't you care for a little snack too?" I coaxed. "But of course, Madame, your wish is my command." she replied, smiling slyly. Louise dipped her finger into the jar and swirled it about. She smeared peanut butter all over my nipples then proceeded to lick them clean. Assuming I was expecting similar treatment to what I had dished out, Louise suckled and nibbled my nipples so hard I feared she might break them right off. I just adored all that attention and just let her have her way with my breasts. After a few minutes of her intensive licking, my Girls shone sparkling clean. "I'm hungry for dessert now!" she announced, obviously proud of how perfectly they glistened with her saliva. Louise popped out of bed and took the food back to the kitchen. After a few short minutes, she returned with my two bananas and the steaming peanut butter jar. I noticed that she had pared the black scale off the one end as well as smoothly trimming down the stems. "Roll over on your side, facing me and spread your legs." Louise directed as she sat down beside me on her bed. "Do you still like frigging around in your underwear?" Louise asked as her fingers skimmed across my sleek nylon panties. "Most certainly." I confessed, blushing somewhat. Louise grabbed a banana and slid its shaft back and forth down my abdomen. I sighed softly when she began to rub the banana up and down the lips of my vulva. Ten or twelve strokes of labia splitting ecstasy rubbed the gossamer nylon of my panties into my vulva. Louise deftly tilted the end of the banana into what she called, "my tunnel of love", and pushed firmly. The filmy crotch of my loose-fitting panties stretched easily, allowing the banana to penetrate, at least two inches, into my vagina. Louise rotated the silky but abrasively cloaked banana to and fro, causing my vagina to squawk loudly. " All those juicy sounds make me really hungry." Louise said as she pulled out the banana. She pulled down my panties, carefully extracting the soaked nylon that was still stuck up my vagina and left them in a damp rumpled circle around my ankles. Louise dipped the tip of the banana into the hot peanut butter jar then pressed it against my vulva. She bent down, pulled the banana away and sensuously licked the brown goop from my labia. Delighted with the sensation, I spread my legs wider and watched approvingly as she dipped the banana deeper into the jar. Again Louise pressed the tip of the banana into my anxiously waiting pussy and again she lapped up the peanut butter. The third time, she swirled the banana around in the jar, then thrust it deeply up my sultry vagina. I watched wide-eyed as the gooey brown banana disappeared, all but for a small stub into me. I watched Louise bend down again and felt her slippery tongue wiggle about around the protruding banana and all over the folds of my labia. I prayed I wouldn't loose self-control completely when I felt Louise's tongue slither feverishly all over my clitoris. Louise steadily increased the length of each stroke until the banana popped out of my pussy. She immediately poked it back in again before my vulva had a chance to contract. Seemingly amused with my relaxed pussy, she moistened up the banana in the peanut butter again. She began to stab the banana in and out of my pussy with such fervor, that I began to feel like one of Jack the Ripper's victims. I was tempted to protest the intensity of her continuing attack on my genitals, but it felt so damned good. My concerns soon fell victim to my own lust as I rolled on my back, dug in my heels, spread my legs wide and thrust my pubes out so she could pummel them even better. My pussy stayed so dilated, it began to fart wetly with each of her prods. When she began to lick out my vulva between each poke, I knew I was done for. Each strong thrust, followed by her tongue's deep lapping, captivated me in crazy sexual ecstasy. Louise sucked and swirled her tongue around my swollen clitoris so exquisitely that I soon felt the glorious wave begin to crest within me. I arched my back, moaning shakily, then felt that surge lunge through my entire body. I shook and shivered as wave after wave of ecstasy tore through me from my clit to my nipples like a bolt of lightning. Louise pulled the banana out of me and said, "Look what we've done to Elvis' banana!" It was squashed flat, mushy and floppy inside its skin." You've got awesome muscle strength in your vulva for an old gal, does your husband's penis end up looking like this if you cum with him inside?" she said with a wink. "Of course not, silly, I broke it right off the last time and that's why I'm fooling around with you." I replied back. Louise rolled around and positioned herself facing the foot of the bed. She rolled onto her side and wantonly spread her legs. I handed her a pillow and as we both settled comfortably, I again found myself up close and personal with Louise's genitalia. Somewhat apprehensively, I reached out and ran my fingers down her panties to her pubic mound. I though of how strangely provocative I found the feel of this sweet little woman's soft flesh under the silky film of her billowy panties. I rubbed my fingers back and forth repeatedly, enjoying the humid warmth radiate from her pussy. Spurred on by her emanating heat, I pressed my fingers firmly into her labia. I felt her moistness immediately surround my fingers as they sank into her vulva. Seizing an opportunity to explore my panty fetish a little further, I found myself plunging the stretchy crotch of Louise's oversized panties deeply into her juicy little pussy. I swished my fingers about inside her vagina but when a whimper emerged from her lips, I realized that perhaps she didn't relish the coarse sensation of the nylon agitating her vulva the way I did. I decided to keep that special little perversion just for myself from then on. I studied Louise's expression and thought of how tense she must have been. The anticipation of the erotic delights she was looking for must have had her at a fevered pitch. I figured that if I did her just the same, she'd be my slave forever, so I decided to return the little pleasures she'd used to drive me crazy. I pushed away her panties' crotch, wet my forefinger and thumb, pushed them into her pussy side by side, then spread the folds of her labia and peeked inside. On a whim, I wet the first two fingers of both hands, inserted them, and then spread apart Louise's vulva to expose the soft pink flesh of her vagina. Aroused by this most personal sight, I asked Louise to hand me the jar. I dipped my finger into the peanut butter then delicately smeared it throughout her vulva, labia and all over her clit. I bent my head down, took a deep breath and buried my tongue in her gooey little pussy. She immediately squealed with delight at my sudden deluge of passionate licking. She must have particularly enjoyed it when I lapped from the bottom of her slit, up her labia and all around her clit, for with each pass her little clit poked further out of its hood. Sensing her obvious enjoyment, I settled down and continued my pussy-pleasing routine, interrupting occasionally with a thorough sucking of her immensely swollen clitoris. After a few minutes of seemingly enjoying my technique, Louise said out of the blue, "All this licking is going to make me cum way too soon, so why don't you cool me down a bit by poking me with something from my toy drawer." Opening the bottom drawer exposed a snake pit of intertwined vibrators, dildos, lubricants and peculiar little implements of pleasure and torture. The top drawer held some videotapes, a few glossy lesbian bondage magazines and a number of erotic paperbacks. I rummaged through the toy drawer and fished out an impressive looking, sculptured vibrating dildo with a plug-in cord. It was dull gold in color, had a large, sleekly rounded head and a lightly veined, six inch long shaft. The smoothly bulbous head was cushiony soft, whereas the shaft was firm but resilient, not at uncomfortable feeling like the hard plastic ones. On closer examination, I found a calibrated knob that rotated for "Intensity" and clicked in and out for "Auto Surge". She told me she bought it from a mail order business in Buffalo that specialized in gadgets that give real sexual pleasure to women. Louise said she read an article in the Star business section once that profiled this lovely-looking Buffalo housewife who designs and markets sexual toys, lingerie and erotica for women. "Personally though, I think she's even more sexually obsessed than both of us combined." Louise reflected. She told me to plug it in the socket by the bed and feel what it did. Playing with the control knob, I found it went only one speed, but it certainly did shake harder and harder as it was turned up. I was concerned that it was getting hotter but Louise explained it maintained body temperature when running. She told me to watch what happened when the button was pushed. It built in intensity and expanded in girth for two seconds, rested and contracted for another two seconds, then repeated the cycle over and over. "It starts out best if you tease yourself at low Intensity, increase it to high for penetration, then click on the "Auto Surge" button when it's well in.", Louise suggested. The powerful massager nearly shook itself out of my hand when I turned it up as high as it would go. I lay down at the foot of the bed, clutching what obviously had to be her favorite insertion object. When I touched the tip of the vibrator against Louise's pussy, she moaned ever so softly. I gently nestled the rounded head between the lips of her labia. The massager hummed quietly as I turned the intensity control higher and higher. Soon the hum took on a wet slurping tone as the folds of her labia shook furiously. Dancing droplets of dew welled up from her jiggling vulva. I pushed the vibrator gently and it effortlessly sank deep into her vagina. I glanced up to catch her expression and see if she approved. Her eyes were closed, but she did have a peculiar little smile at the corners of her mouth. I pushed the "Auto Surge" button then quickly cast another glance up. Her eyes were glazed, her mouth was open slightly and her breath quivered as she exhaled. Louise's whole pubis shook like jelly during each power surge. I intensely studied my lover's actions and soon discovered a definite pattern. She would inhale and arch her back as the vibrator shook and expanded. Then her back would relax and she would exhale as the massager contracted during its rest cycle. I thought it was quite the gadget while watching Louise's rapture, but I felt secondary to it and longed to be in control. I studied the cycle over and over then came up with an idea. When the machine began its rest cycle, I grasped the protruding stub end and gave it two quick cranks around. Louise, thrilled with the additional sensation, echoed back a quick grunt with each swish of the vibrator. Eight or ten cranks later, her fully dilated vulva gaped loosely around the vibrator whenever it contracted and loud slurping noises emanated with each rotation. I tried licking her clit once, but the furious vibrations shook my chin, nose and tongue so strongly, I just couldn't stand it. Louise suddenly blurted out, "Since we fooled around New Years' day, my nipples have been very bad." She continued, "Every time my mind drifts to you, they get really hard and show through whatever I'm wearing, wherever I am at the time and it's gotten so embarrassing." Louise said she'd tried soothing them with creams, stuffing her bra with tissues and had even resorted to punishing them on occasion, then tried to convince me that only I could relieve her distress. When I asked how I might please them, she immediately suggested, "With cruel and unusual tortures, perhaps?" I got up, went to the kitchen and returned with an ice cube in a dish. As I ran the ice cube around and back and forth across Louise's nipple, it grew rock-hard erect with its aureole covered in goose bumps. I admired her spectacular nipple and just knew it was screaming out to be bitten. I bent down my head, opened my jaws slightly, and then gingerly bit down on the base of her teat. Assuming she would tell me if I hurt too much, I bore down steadily. Sure I must be close to severing her teat if I bit any harder, I peeked up at her face. Expecting a grimace of pain, I saw only a relaxed, serene expression, seemingly delighted with the vise-like grip I held on her teat. Seriously concerned about damaging her nipple, I began sucking strongly on her nipple, while tilting back my head to stretch it. Her poor little breast elongated with my torturous tugs but she never complained, so I repeated the ice routine on the other nipple. I squeezed that teat flat between my forefinger and thumb and stretched it just as ruthlessly as the other. After doing her nipples she looked so close. So I spread sap, seeping from her pussy, all over her clit then tickled it's sides. In a matter of seconds, Louise bucked and shook, exploding in orgasm. As the two of us sexually satisfied and glowing lovers put away her toys and made the bed, I began to giggle. I told her never to tell a soul that the last time, when I took home the carrots to put in the compost, my husband grabbed them out of my hand and ate them, pussy juice and all. Louise blushed beet red then laughed so hard she began to cry. Eventually we calmed down from our laughing fit, Louise gathered up the mushy bananas and the peanut butter jar, smiled devilishly and said, "Does your husband like peanut butter and banana sandwiches?" Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 03 Dear Dirty Diary, Brassy trumpets, thumping drums and crashing cymbals increasingly trespassed into the soundtrack of my most lushly sensual daydream. The brassy confusion of marching bands obliterated the wind's delicate whispering through tall pine trees as well as the plaintive cries of loons. My shimmering vision of sparkling blue waters surrounding our idyllic lovers' bed, perched atop a tiny rocky island, abruptly vanished as my eyes unwillingly adjusted to the familiar realities of our bedroom. My bleary eyes read 2:30 on the alarm clock as I questioned the reason for that horrible racket coming from downstairs. The acrid aroma of beer and pickled eggs and popcorn assailed my nostrils as gruff-sounding men bantered with authority and conviction. Occasionally more band music, the roar of crowds and shrieking whistles added to the complexity of the din. Yes sports fans, it was Superbowl Sunday! Gone was my image of Louise, the only person I really ever had an affair with. The sex games we three had played were still fresh in my mind but my husband increasingly seemed distant a lot of the time. In spite of my newfound friskiness Doug's actions seemed lethargic and sometimes I swear he looked frightened of me when we made love. So, I put on a sheer hot-pink chemise, sprayed my tender bits with perfume then strutted into the den. Bold as brass I stood in front of Doug and lifted my skirts so he could see how well trimmed I'd kept my pussy. I climbed up onto his chair, kneeled on its arms and straddled him. I reached down between my legs, unzipped his fly and fished out his penis. As I rubbed him, the scent of perfumed pussy and gamy penis flooded into my nostrils and I was primed for action. As I squatted down on his lap I felt his searing penis burn through my moistening vulva. I hooked a spaghetti strap with my finger and pulled down one side of my bodice. I squeezed and milked the life out of my right nipple while I held back onto his knee with my left hand for balance. As I humped back and forth on him, that look of fear returned to his eyes and Doug reached for the Rolaids in his shirt pocket. He chewed down a couple as I carried on but that expression continued. When I asked him if he was close, he shook his head then his eyes shied away behind me. Assuming he was peeking at the TV, I grumbled out, "Fine then, I see what's important in your life!" "It's not you Laura, it's just this damned reflux all the time!" he appealed. "If you didn't eat all that crap it'd go away, you know!" I bitched as I climbed off him and stomped away in a huff. An hour later, I knocked on Louise's front door. Opening the door she seemed surprised to see me so soon. I was just bristling with excitement and radiant, carrying my plastic shopping bags. As soon as I got inside, I just had to tell her about the romantic swashbuckler movie "Zorro" we watched on the TV the night before. I told Louise that it showed Zorro and the heroine involved in naughty sword play, with him slicing off her blouse strap and slitting up her skirt almost to her privates! I explained that got me thinking that it might be fun for each of us to role-play a bit. That morning, I thought of stuff we could use for props and brought them along. I shook out the contents of my bags onto the sofa. In one bag were two cheap rayon dresses, the flowery kind with the low-cut elastic neck lines that look like peasant dresses, a couple of elastic belts and two large scarves. In my other bag were two long slim English cucumbers, a bottle of olive oil and a couple of suggestive looking Italian Sausages. "I can see where this might be going already." Louise remarked. "What, that Doug's going to have barbequed sausages with mushy sautéed cucumber slices for supper." I saucily returned. "You're so bad!" Louise snickered, as we giggled over the accuracy of my joke. "You called this stuff props, so explain this all to me, just so I know for sure," she requested. I explained that one dress was for her, "Louise Lafitte", daughter of the pirate John Lafitte and the other was for me, Laura O'Hara, the Irish-Gypsy highwayman and whorehouse madam. The belts were to be scabbards for our cucumber swords and sausage daggers. The olive oil was to be the "Elixir of Submission" and the scarves were accessories for our outfits or whatever else turned us on. I unabashedly stripped down completely naked then pulled my dress down over my head. For a classic gypsy effect, I cinched my belt around my waist, stuffed a cucumber under the right side and a sausage under the left. I fluffed up my hair and tied a scarf over my head, then struck a defiant pose. With hands on my hips, legs spread apart and bare feet planted firmly; I spat out, "Well, what are ye waiting for, pirate wench?" I taunted, "Ye should be getting ready for the contest, or are ye yella?" Somewhat demurely, I followed Louise as she scampered into her bedroom to prepare for our game. She took off her sweater and bra, tights and panties and kicked them into a rumpled pile by her bed. She tugged on her flirty little dress and put on her belt, stuffing in her weapons, but tied her scarf around her neck in French sailor fashion. Louise peeked at herself in her mirror and she said all that was missing was a little lipstick. She also decided that any gypsy worth her salt should be wearing large hoop earrings and crimson lipstick. In no time at all, she located the accessories for me and returned with them to the living room. I pretended to be impatient, pacing about and slapping my cucumber into the palm of my hand. "You'll pay dearly for this tardiness, pirate whore!" I forewarned, shaking my weapon at her. Louise tried to calm me up by lovingly tracing deep red lipstick on my pouting lips and clipping the earrings on my earlobes. I again struck my defiant pose for her approval. I strode in a circle around Louise, eyeing her costume. She jumped when I playfully goosed her bum with my cucumber. "No knickers, Matey?" I questioned. "Oui, nothing underneath." she replied and mimicked my same proud stance with eyes glaring, hands on hips and feet firmly planted apart. "If that's the case then, en guarde!" I retorted and sneakily gave Louise a quick slap on the pussy with my cucumber prod. She yelped in surprise, but when I immediately led with another quick thrust, poking her left breast, Louise learned to keep up her guard. Firmly clutching her sausage, she used her left hand as a shield. Louise bobbed back and forth, crossing cucumbers with me each time. We practiced a few other basic Fencing moves on each other, but soon our seriousness led to giggles as we played pirates. However, Louise's quick moves soon proved to be a problem for me because my swaying breasts became an easy target. She quickly noticed that whenever she poked one of my breasts, I would immediately cover them up, dropping my guard on my lower body. I foolishly kept my widespread stance, leaving her ample opportunity for pussy pokes with her sausage. Intimate little pubic jabs and painful little slaps to my hardening nipples soon forced me to retreat backwards into the bedroom until I finally backed up into Louise's vanity bureau. Realizing I was trapped against it Louise tried more aggressive swordplay. She slapped me on my left knuckle, causing me to drop my sausage, then knocked the cucumber right out of my grasp with a quick whirl of her wrist. Louise pressed her sausage firmly against my pubes, then hooked her cucumber through a strap of my bodice and flipped down the front of my dress. She centered the cucumber's tip slightly under my bared left nipple then firmly prodded it into my soft breast tissue. "What now, my love?" Louise asked triumphantly. I pondered my situation briefly then realized a new plan of attack. "Do you think Peter Pan ever got Wendy into a predicament like this?" I reflected. Louise burst out laughing at the absurdity of the comparison and for a second, relinquished her control over me. "No retreat, no surrender!" I exclaimed and instantly began to tickle her ferociously. Taken off guard by my strategy, I savagely tickled her ribs and belly, causing her to back into the bed, where my slight push sent her sprawling backwards onto her bed. I hopped onto the bed and continued my tickle assault on Louise, who by then was completely in the throes of a giggle fit. All she was capable of doing at that point to defend herself was to cross her arms tightly over her breasts, hug her sides and pull her legs up. This however bared her little bottom and I leapt at an opportunity. I snatched up the cucumber Louise had dropped while being tickled, flipped up the hem of her skirt with my free hand, then planted the cucumber's tip firmly against her vulva. She felt around for her sausage but my firm pressure on the cucumber prevented her from rolling over to find it. I snatched up the sausage and put it between my knees where she couldn't possibly get it. "Now my little French pastry, it seems the tide has turned!" I sneered. I reached backward for the olive oil on the vanity while continuing to pin her to the bed. I flipped open the bottle's cap and squirted the "Elixir of Domination" along the sausage with my free hand. "Spread your loins and prepare for penetration, oh vanquished pirate wench!" I announced. Realizing the considerable girth of the sausage, to say nothing of how repulsive it looked to a vegetarian, Louise decreed, "I'd rather be run through with your sword than split apart and scourged with your greasy pig's tool!" I stuffed the dripping sausage between her breasts and the bodice of her hiked-up dress. I dribbled lots of "Elixir of Domination" down my cucumber sword. The olive oil soon flowed all the way down the cucumber's slender shaft and then encircled its tip where it pushed into the fleshy lips of her labia. I lifted up slightly on the cucumber to ensure that the oil trickled well into Louise's vulva. When I put pressure back on the cucumber, Louise's eyes sparkled and grew wide and her jugular vein pulsed with anticipation. Impatient for the rush, she blurted out, "Be done with it then, run me through with one good thrust and don't you dare stop till it hits bottom!" Unsure about her demand, I began to push gently. "Use both hands and do me right!" Louise snapped. I asked her if she was really sure she could stand that, as I grasped the cucumber with both hands. "Yes damn it, just do me!" she insisted. I assumed a steady stance with one foot firmly planted on the floor and the other knee tight up against her bum. I wrapped my left hand around the cucumber's shaft to steady it and used the palm of my right hand to push. With both of our eyes riveted on her pubes, push I did, strongly and smoothly just as I was ordered to. I was in awe as inch after inch of the cucumber disappeared into Louise's vagina. About half the way down, the foot-long cucumber's entry balked. "Don't stop yet. Tilt it up a bit and it'll go in some more." she moaned. I did as she said and sure enough, deeper it sank. When a low guttural moan came from the back of her throat, I quickly glanced at Louise's face just in time to catch the most wanton expression of lust I had ever witnessed. She took a deep breath, opened her eyes and said, "I need more elixir in me to ease your thrust, Gypsy Harlot." I pulled out the entire cucumber and liberally squirted her dilated vulva with olive oil. "Lance me again, Gypsy Bitch!" she taunted. I began to shove in my cucumber sword, but this time it slid in considerably easier. Peering at her reflection in her vanity's mirror, Louise told me she found her image quite fetching, spread and impaled by her adventuresome neighbor. "I'd think a truly blood thirsty conqueror such as you should run her conquest through at least twenty more times, just to make sure she's fully vanquished, wouldn't you agree?" Louise suggested provocatively. "Oh at least that and each violation should be re-anointed with the elixir to denote complete domination." I said in agreement. After each retraction, I faithfully squirted a little more oil into her gaping vulva to soothe the cucumber's journey to the depths of her vagina. Eventually her vagina filled to the brim with olive oil and insertion of the cucumber caused a rude slurping noise as the excess oil gushed out of her pussy. When I began to swirl the end of my cucumber sword around in circles, Louise grabbed onto my outstretched leg and hugged it tightly. As I continued to grind my sword about inside, she rubbed and kissed my thigh. As her caresses crept further up the insides of my thighs, she purred, "Does doing really dirty stuff like this to me make you warm and wet inside?" I answered, "Of course, how could it not?" Louise first ran the tip of her index finger along the length of my hairless slit then poked her middle finger through the delicate lips of my labia, slightly into my vagina. "So it seems." Louise murmured to herself as her finger immediately sensed the abundant sea of pussy juice lurking inside of me. I felt her wiggle it back and forth, slurping my vagina and causing my sap to run down her finger. "Such a pretty pussy for all the abuse it's gone through, but then you just love that don't you?" she reflected as she peeked up my flirty skirt. I suggested that perhaps I'm less sensitive than most women and told her to feel free to abuse away with gusto. " Well eat this then, Gypsy!" Louise replied, grasping the sausage from the folds of her bodice and with one quick thrust, plunged the tip of the still-oily Italian sausage well into my vulva. The shock of this surprise invasion of my genitals knocked the breath right out of me. I gasped for air as I felt her push and grind the sausage further up my pussy. In a few short seconds, she had stabbed all but a short stub of the fat sausage through my vulva to the very depths of my vagina. "What do you think about that, Gypsy Slut?" Louise taunted. I told her that I might be wounded, but I wasn't about to give up then cranked the cucumber by its stub around in circles. A vindictive Louise returned the torturous favor by likewise cranking her sausage about inside my pussy. After a few more rounds of mutual torture, both our pussies were really loose and looking for fulfillment. Taking the initiative, I extracted my cucumber, bent my head down and poked my whole tongue into Louise's gaping hole, then lapped wetly inside. "Enough with the swordplay, let's make peace and have a truce of tongues." she wryly sighed, obviously in pleasure. "Cunnilinguis au chocolate?" Louise suggested and assured me that it would be an absolutely sinful taste experience I'd never forget, as she popped up from the bed and headed for the kitchen. Momentarily, she called me into the living room. She was spreading a bath towel across the seat of her reclining chair. She instructed me to relax in the chair, pull up my legs and spread them wide, resting my heels on the edge of the seat cushion. I obliged then watched with curiosity as she removed the wrapper from a Fudgsicle. "Chocolate, God's gift to women." she quipped, then licked the dripping Fudgsicle lustily. Louise touched the cold tip of the ice cream bar to my sleeping clitoris then slid it down slowly, spreading my labia, I shivered as she dipped the Fudgsickle slightly into my partially dilated vulva, melting and smearing the chocolate treat into my pussy. Removing the Fudgsickle, she plunged in her tongue and hungrily lapped the runny chocolate out of my slit. After several repeats of this fire and ice torture, I begged for mercy, but she ignored my pleas and continued to dip and lick. With each pass, Louise poked her soft wet tongue deeply into my vulva, then slowly and sensuously lapped up, splitting my labia, swirled around the tip of my swollen clitoris then finished off with a sucking stretch on it. I soon grew delirious with rapture, moaning and quivering with each torturous assault on my pussy. One last barrage of clit licking and I was done for, back arched with hips undulating, chest flushed, dark pink nipples erect and finally breathless in shuddering orgasm. Giving me a chance to catch my breath, she washed her face and rummaged through her underwear drawer. Out of the array of delicate under things, Louise fished out a pair of beige nylons. As she sexily rolled on the gossamer stockings, I said candidly, "The most exciting sexual experiences are mostly in the head." Louise agreed and in that line of thinking, suggested, "I'd cum really good if you told me secrets while you played with my pussy." When I asked her what kind of secrets, she replied, "Tell me how Laura plays when everyone's gone away." As I pondered where to start, Louise slouched back in her living room chair and spread her legs, causing her skirt to ride up provocatively. I swung around and sat on the chair's footrest so I could see everything better. I softly caressed the insides of her legs, being careful not to snag her nylons, in random little circular patterns. I started at her ankles, traced up her calves, and then concentrated on that most ticklish area just above her knees. I recounted that when my husband was watching a football game, I dribbled hot melted candle wax on my nipples and down my pussy as I tickled the inside of her inner thigh just above her stocking. "Really!" Louise replied in astonishment. I reached over to Louise's other leg and repeated my caressing, but this time, I slid my hand under the hem of her dress and felt all the way up the inside of her thigh. Louise whimpered as my burning hot fingers traced a path through her pubic hairs. I continued my story, telling her that I was positive that my husband was spying on me when I waxed myself, but he never let on he was there so I did more outrageous things just to torment him. I wet the tip of my index finger then gently spread the hair-shrouded lips of her labia, to find she was very wet and nicely dilated. I dipped my finger into the dark pink opening of her vulva and began to rub. I paired up a second finger then pushed them both into Louie's creamy vagina. "Whenever I do my housework, all I wear is those silky sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose." Louise replied. "I spread my labia, then pull them up really snugly so that whenever I walk, bend or especially squat, they ride up and chafe inside my pussy. By the time I've dusted all the low things, vacuumed all the corners and wiped up all the spots on the kitchen floor, the pantyhose are just frothy with my sap." she divulged, as I wiggled my two fingers like a pair of swimming legs. I lamented that it had been a lot harder for me to be home alone with a husband and two kids always underfoot. I added, however, that I had found ways to manage. I admitted that I felt guilty doing anything sneaky when the kids were around but if the two of us were alone and Doug was ignoring me, watch out. I turned my hand palm up and shoved my fingers in deep, then began to massage the top of her vaginal passage. After a few seconds of my sensual fingering, I felt Louise's "G spot" swell with passion. Pleased with my progress, I continued, telling her that if Doug were preoccupied with TV, I'd change into a housedress, push in my dildo, pull up my panties tight to hold it in, then tidy up around the TV room. His not knowing what I was up to made a little pleasure an absolute thrill. "If I can't have his attention, I'll have something ever so bad!" I always thought. On a whim, I wet the tip of my right middle finger in my own pussy, then immediately moved it up and anointed Louise's erect clit with my juice. Unsure if she was wet enough for intensive diddling, I again dipped into the artesian well of my own vagina, then spread more of my sap all over her bulging clit. Intoxicated in a fit of passion, Louise's head grew woozy and her breathing grew more labored. I teased her clit, swirling my finger around and over it, tickling its erect little shaft most erotically. Realizing Louise's passion for this new little perversion, I continued to draw more of my sap to massage around the tip of her straining clitoris. I noticed her chest begin to flush and realized my little lover was near orgasm. Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 03 I asked her if next time she might like hot candle wax dribbled on her big nipples and her lovely little clit. The mere suggestion of that tiny torture was too much for her to bear. She squeezed her nipples firmly and her legs gyrated wildly. Wave after wave of quivering ecstasy shook her as her orgasm ravaged through her petite body. Her blood-red nipples stood goose-bumped and spectacularly erect from her glowing pink breasts. "Enough!" Louise pleaded as she continued to quiver and shake. When she finally caught her breath, with sparkling eyes she said, "You just said that about waxing my nipples and clit to make me cum, didn't you?" With my wickedest smile, I replied, "You bet!" Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 04 Dear Dirty Diary, Three weeks passed and it was Sunday morning. The sun peeked softly through the slats of the blinds in our bedroom, showing promise for an inspiring new day. Doug was sleeping soundly, so I carefully slipped out of bed and headed for the shower. Soon the hot water tingled against my back and trickled down my bum, warming me completely. I shampooed my hair then began to lather the rest of me. The slippery bar of Dove slid soothingly across my wet skin, caressing my body with its softly rounded contours. Sure I had lathered my body completely, I took down the hand-held shower nozzle and began to rinse. I first rinsed my hair, face and neck, then swept down my shoulders. I sprayed down my underarms, then swung the nozzle around me and completed my back, bum and the backs of my legs. Concentrating then on the front of my body, I rinsed down my outer thighs, shins and feet. Leaving the best until last as always, I lightly sprayed my back to keep me toasty warm, then immediately sprayed down my soapy breasts. My nipples poked out, deep rosy pink as I ran the spray quickly down my abdomen. Then quick as a wink, I flipped over the nozzle and sprayed up my crotch! An erotic shiver raced through my lower body as hot water tingled my labia. After thirty seconds of this bliss, I reached down and split my lips widely apart with my other hand. I spread my legs apart, then sprayed up into my vulva. My knees began to tremble when the tiny jets tingled against my growing clitoris. I stopped after only a few seconds, for any more of that and I surely would have cum right there in the shower and that would have been a terrible waste of my building erotic notions. I toweled roughly to set my skin aglow, then blew dry my hair and pubes. I dabbed a little perfume on my chest, behind my ears and on each side of my pussy, put on my robe and quietly left the bathroom. Doug, to my surprise was still sleeping. He looked so sweet and innocent sleeping peacefully on his back. As I crept closer, I noticed that he had kicked off some of his covers and saw his penis was peeking out of the fly of his pajamas. It looked so vulnerable lying there, sort of like a little bird that had ventured out of its nest. It certainly didn't look at all prepared for the dangers that say, a foraging cat could bring upon it. Laura, the Lion, stealthily crept across the bedroom floor. Stopping at the edge of the bed, she slowly and cautiously leaned over and bent her head down over her prey. Mere inches away from her quarry, she opened her mouth, bared her fangs then, in a flash, leapt and devoured it whole! So skillful was her attack, the little bird never had a chance. It pulled back and tried to escape, but her powerful jaws and constricting tongue held it firm. Realizing its predicament, it tried to escape by bloating up hugely, but it was no match for the drawing suction of its captor's mouth. It pulsed and throbbed steadily, but Laura, the Lion, continued her attack on the struggling bird. She relentlessly slid her wet lips up and down its neck, just under its purple head. This must have had a strangling effect on the bird, for it tried yet another avenue of escape, by stabbing its talons into Laura, the Lion's, vulva. The bird's feeble thrusts however, only spurred on Laura, the Lion, who not only continued her bobbing attack on the bird's neck, but also began to suck the life out of its head. The bird tried once again to escape by crying out, "If you don't stop right now, you'll get a mouthful of cum!" I quickly spat out his penis and headed for the Kleenex box, only to find it was empty. I frantically searched for a towel or something to catch his semen, but had to settle for my yesterday's panties. I swooped up my rumpled underpants and hurriedly wrapped them around his penis. Then Doug announced, "I guess I've cooled down a bit now." Perturbed by his escape, I tightly squeezed his penis and said, "The hell you have!" Loosely gripping his penis now, I pumped my hand up and down its shaft so that my silky panties would chafe against his tender skin. When he pushed more fingers into my pussy, I worked my hand back and forth with frenzied motion. After just a moment or two of this torture, I heard him grunt, felt his penis surge again and again, then watched his glistening semen seep through the soft nylon bunched around the tip of his penis. Squeezing tightly, I worked the last of his sperm up out of his urethra into the folds of my wet gooey panties. Doug, as usual, gave my pussy a few more wimpy thrusts then dozed off into blissful sleep. I, as usual, was all primed up for more sexual delights, but realized he wouldn't be good for anything for hours. My Laura, the Lion, caper had been fun and of course I began to daydream of how I could pounce on Louise next. I though that Laura, the Lion, should be sleekly cloaked to be most effective, so I carefully rolled out of bed, opened my lingerie drawer and retrieved a lacy beige push-up bra, slip, panties and nylons. I tiptoed out of our bedroom with my costume into the family room. Too anxious to wait a second longer, I called Louise to set my trap. The lazy thing was still in bed, complaining of a stiff neck from sleeping with the window open too far. I told her I'd bring over my electronic muscle stimulator, like chiropractors use for therapy. I told her it might take a while to get everything ready. Planning ahead for my sneak attack, I suggested she unlock her door now, so she wouldn't get tensed up any worse when I got there. Sleepily she agreed and I put my plan into motion. I took my time putting on all my slinky skin tone lingerie, got the EMS out of the bathroom cupboard, then slipped on an overcoat and slippers to go next door. It had been about twenty minutes since I phoned and I was hoping she had gone back to sleep. Quietly locking her door behind me, I crept silently through Louise's apartment. I peeked into her room and was delighted to find she was fast asleep on her bed. Sunbeams bathed her in a soft glow as I watched her gentle breathing. Like Doug, she looked so sweet and vulnerable in sleep. She had kicked the covers off her legs and I caught a glimpse of her little brown bush peeking out of the folds of her judo robe. Laura, the Lion, edged closer to her unsuspecting quarry. A pink pussy-mouse lay dozing in a dark bushy thicket. Laura, the Lion, hovered overhead, then pounced on her prize in a flash. Unlike my previous conquest, this victim didn't even show a startle reflex. She just moaned softly and laid there in complete submission, leading Laura, the Lion, to surmise that she wasn't sleeping at all, and this may indeed, be a trap! Cautiously, Laura, the Lion, began to play with her captive, lapping softly at her labia. The mouse relaxed herself, allowing the thrusts of my tongue to gain entry through the thicket, into the hot wet interior of her pussy. "This certainly beats an alarm clock." Louise said breathlessly. "I've fantasized forever of having my lover wake me with her tongue, so don't hold back." she continued, giving me a most wanton smile. Laura, the Lion, hunched back down, then proceeded to devour her helpless prey. Louise, the Mouse, arched her back and trust up her hips as I gorged myself in her quivering vulva. When I licked her slit from her vagina, right up to her clit, then flailed it erect with my darting tongue, she dug her heels and elbows into the mattress in ecstasy. At the height of her surge, she whimpered, obviously in pain. " It's not you, it's my stupid stiff neck," she explained. I then remembered that I was on a mission of mercy, not just one of lust fulfillment. I got my EMS out of its box and proceeded to hook her up. She said her chiropractor gave her therapy with a larger console-type unit sometimes. I wet the three-inch diameter pad, placed it on her shoulder by her neck and cinched it snug with its Velcro-tipped elastic strap. When I asked her where she'd like the other pad, she said she ached in the one spot only. When I explained to her that the EMS needed two pads hooked up to work, she said to put it somewhere I thought it might feel good. Trembling with devious excitement, I plugged in the smaller one-inch pad and asked her if she was ready for the biggest thrill she'd ever feel. Somewhat unsure, she agreed to it, so I began to finger her pussy to get it wet and relaxed. A second finger inserted along with some serious clitoral licking and she was ready. I smeared the small pad's face with KY jelly then carefully inserted the small pad, placing it on the bumpily textured skin of her G-spot. She showed an apprehensive expression when she heard me click the EMS on, so I reassured her by telling her I'd tried this before and it felt incredible. I turned the intensity up one increment at a time, pausing at least two pulses between increases to catch her reaction. It wasn't until the fourth increase that Louise began to feel the tingle in her neck and pussy. Not overly impressed at first, she had me continue increasing the voltage gradually. After three additional increases, I saw that with each pulse, her shoulder would lurch ahead slightly and her pussy would quiver ever so slightly. Her eyes were closed, her lips were provocatively open and she would emit a low moan with each pulse. After about five minutes of blissful therapy, Louise opened her eyes and asked if there was a way for me to join in. I admitted it was a little boring, just watching over her so I hiked up my slip. Without hesitation, she thrust her hand down inside my panties and poked me with her finger. When she found it slipped easily into the moistness of my pussy, she flailed that finger about, making loud, rude, squishy noises. Louise pulled down the front of my sleek shiny beige panties, while I smeared KY jelly on the other larger pad then rolled it up into a cylinder. I inserted it into my pussy like a tampon, lubed up the other small pad then placed it directly over my clitoris. As soon as I was sure it was centered perfectly, I pulled my panties back up snugly to keep the EMS pads in place. I clicked on my control and turned up the intensity switch slowly. I felt a faint, pleasing tingle in my clit and all through my vulva. I turned it up slowly and found that the surge went right through the tip of my clit, driving my crazy. I adjusted the pad a higher until the tingle was just perfect then cranked it up to my usual level. Louise, the Mouse, suddenly did something that I was not prepared for. She rolled over toward me, wrapped her arms around me and kissed me ever so passionately. She slid her wet little tongue into my mouth and wriggled it all about. A faint tingle pulsed through our wet tongues with each pulse and Louise said, "Wow, that must be what's meant by sparks flying between two lovers!" She took on a very serious expression and continued, "We are in love, aren't we?" When I told her I didn't love her in the same way as my husband, Louise's expression changed to sadness, then on to radiance when I told her our love was wonderfully full of spontaneity and romance, to say nothing of the most incredible sex I'd ever experienced with anyone. I heard myself admit we were indeed, in love. We hugged and kissed so passionately I could hardly catch my breath. Louise nuzzled my neck, sucked on my earlobes, and then sucked my nipples up hard through my bra's sheer nylon cups. She unfastened the front clasp of my little push-up bra, spilled out my hot breasts and took turns sucking one teat, while squeezing the other. She slid her hand down, rubbed all over my belly, then pressed on down between my legs. Annoyed by the EMS pads in her way, she pulled away my panties and quickly removed the tangle of pads and wires from herself and me. That done, Louise returned to caressing my pubes through my panties just the way I liked, saturating their crotch gloriously with my sap. To return the favor, I spread the lips of her labia and deftly massaged her clit, while probing her vulva with my other fingers. All of a sudden, Louise said, "I don't know about you, but right now my pussy feels like it could take on a horse." She shoved two fingers from each hand into her vulva and spread herself widely so I could see right up inside her, saying, "Just look what your machine has done to me." "Who'll want a sloppy old pussy like this?" she lamented. I pushed down my panties to find that my pussy was equally relaxed. My vulva just hung open, ready for business. When I told her we both seemed to be in the same predicament, Louise suggested we might as well take advantage of our conditions. She disappeared into the kitchen, so I whiled away my time by hooking myself back up to my EMS pads. By the time she returned, I was just about delirious with lust. "Look at this, you shameless slut." she joked when she finally returned with her goody bowl. Beaming from ear to ear, she showed me what appeared to be a large, peeled English cucumber in a bowl of what smelled like cucumber salad dressing. The twinkle in her eyes immediately hinted at where this idea of hers was headed. She hopped back into bed and jammed the cucumber right into my vulva. When she pushed it harder, the slippery, marinated cucumber slid easily into me, but that pushed the EMS pad in deeply and pulled its wire off. Louise pulled out the cucumber and tried to fish out the pad with her fingers, but it had been pushed out of reach up into me. A serious frown came to her face and she said, "This looks like a job for Gynecologist Louise." As quick as a wink, she dipped her hand into the salad dressing then shoved it into me, right up to her wrist! I was nearly climbing the walls as I felt that little hand twist and those slim fingers search every nook and cranny of my vagina. Like a child finding a prize in a box of cereal, she pulled out the pad and said, "Oh, here it is." Laura, the Lion, attempted to gain back her composure now that Louise, the tiny-fisted Mouse, had withdrawn her hand. Before I even caught my breath, she grabbed the cucumber, swished it around in the salad dressing and plunged it into my still-dilated pussy. It seemed Louise, the Mouse, had reverted back to Louise Lafitte and was about to run me through once more. Instead, she had me lie on my side with legs spread wide apart. She turned around and positioned herself at the bottom of the bed, lying flat on her back, then squirmed up. She entwined our legs while lining up her pussy with the long cucumber stub sticking out of me. Louise smeared salad dressing all over that end of the cucumber then pushed herself against its tip. Her vulva must have been tighter than mine, for her thrust just pushed it all the way into me. She pushed once more and since it couldn't go any further into me, the cucumber split her little pussy wide open, then disappeared almost completely into her vagina too! Still determined to experience more of the EMS machine's addicting therapy, Louise pointed out that since we were now truly joined by the wet, conductive cucumber, the current should pass through one into the other. I licked both small pads with my tongue to wet them then carefully pressed each atop our clits. Louise clicked on the switch and oh my, it was heavenly! The pulses indeed, traveled right through the cucumber, in one of our clits and out the other's. After a few pulses, I reached down and turned it up an increment at a time. By the fourth increase, both of us were delirious with sexual bliss. I looked down at the beautiful little woman sharing this incredible thrill with me, saw her whole body racked with passion and my fireworks exploded violently after only a few more pulses! Immediately after my orgasm, I switched off the machine for the pulses were way too much for my hypersensitive little clitoris to bear. Louise looked frantic, so I pulled off of the cucumber, moved down and began to lick her clit. I sucked it erect then twisted the cucumber back and forth as I flailed her little bump with my tongue. She was stubborn and made me lick until the muscles of my tongue were sore, but finally she started to breath heavily. I intensified my assault on her clitoris with one last licking frenzy and my beautiful little lover shook and writhed through a spectacular orgasm! Her knees and thighs shook uncontrollably and her gorgeous nipples stood out huge and erect. She quivered with tremors five or six times, ceasing finally when I pulled out the cucumber. Her eyes shone clear and dark as opals as she said, "A person could get really addicted to that if they weren't careful." She pulled the soggy cucumber out of her pussy and handed it to me saying, "Cucumber salad for your husband tonight?" As I put the gooey cucumber back on the tray, I sniffed it and realized it really reeked of pussy in spite of the cucumber dressing. I told her that Doug, for sure, would catch on this time, to which Louise pointed out that theoretically our little affair couldn't really be deemed as cheating as long as my husband enjoyed the somewhat abused fruit of our labors. She cut the cucumber into slices, arranged them nicely on a plate, added just a sprinkle of fresh salad dressing and assured me that Doug would love it even more if he knew where it had been. "Before you go, would you answer me a very personal question, Laura?" she asked as we were getting dressed. "How did your sexual obsession with lingerie come about?" I pondered that for a while then told her it must have evolved during a visit to my aunt and uncle's one time when I was fifteen or so. I told her that my cousins and I would hang out in their attic bedroom. It was full of sexy old pinup calendars showing women, dressed in frilly revealing 1950's underwear in humorous predicaments. One evening, as our parents were drinking and playing poker, we got really rowdy, so they separated us, banishing me to my aunt and uncle's bedroom to cool off. To lessen my boredom, I peeked through their night table drawers and was amazed to find lots of lingerie, similar to that depicted on the sexy calendars. In my uncle's drawers, I found a nudist magazine, some risqué novels, a hand-held vibrator and a View Master with a reel inside entitled, "So you think you've got problems!" What I saw in full color 3D will be forever etched in my brain to the smallest detail. The first scene, called "Fallen Angel", showed a very shapely woman grasping for her big floppy hat, blown off by a gust of wind. Her other hand, clutching a dog's leash, was wrenched back behind her and she was trapped by her little Scotch terrier dog. He had dragged his leash tightly out between her legs, popping several buttons up the bottom of her white and black polka dot shirtdress, then circled around, trussing her nylon-stocking covered thigh tightly to a fence post! In the second scene, entitled, "Bird on a wire!" the wind had blown the loose hem of her dress way up, snagging it on a barb on an upper wire of the fence. As she attempted to retrieve her hat, by climbing between the barbed wire strands, she had squatted too low and also snagged the crotch of her billowy white panties on a lower fence barb. To complicate matters, yet another barb had caught the bodice of her dress, ripped one side wide open, allowing one huge floppy breast to spill out onto the fence wire. At that exact moment, the dog leapt through the fence and tightly pulled his leash up over her dangling, pendulous breast, lashing it dangerously close to the barbs on that strand of the fence wire! The third scene, entitled, "Up the stump!" posed her with her retrieved hat in one hand and her other yanked up over her head by the dog, straining against his leash. He was ferociously chewing away at the fence-snagged hem of her dress, now hiked up around her waist and temporarily holding her suspended, half way down a grassy stream embankment. Her big frilly panties had ridden up as she slid down on her bum and were tightly stretched across her pubes. Jutting up between her thighs was a twisted, knobby, water-logged old stump root, sure to puncture right through her flimsy, straining panties and bury itself in her poor pussy, the second the dog chewed her free to slide down on it! Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 04 The fourth scenario, titled, "Don't get your tit in a wringer!" pictured the frazzled woman, pulled off balance by the dog tugging on her tattered dress. After stumbling forward toward her old-fashioned washing machine, her hand accidentally hit the wringer switch. Her big pointy breast had been drawn into the rollers and her huge brilliant pink nipple was emerging out the other side! The following pose, called, "Damaged goods!" and depicted the poor dear hanging up the ragged clothes she attempted to wash on a bathroom clothesline. Both her wringer-pinched nipple and her poor pussy were crisscrossed with band-aids. Her ripped and mud-stained polka dot dress hung beside her panties, still bearing faint grass stains on their seat and a blackish round stain ringing a puncture hole through their tattered crotch. Just as she attempted to hang up her holed nylon stockings, the dog trotted by, chewing away at the broken-off root stub and jerked her hand with his leash, causing her to clip a clothes pin onto her unscathed nipple! The last scene, called, "Just desserts!" posed the heroine, soaking in her bathtub. Her hugely erect, beet red teats jutted out as her remarkable breasts floated, wet and shiny and her widely spread knees poked up out of the sudsy bath water. She smiled lustfully as she lathered up the gnarled old root stub, obviously intent upon a return engagement with her new found friend under more relaxing conditions. The dog sat forlornly, chained under the sink, looking quite upset about the clothespin clipped on his little penis! I told Louise that after flipping through the reel, I felt all woozy in my head and warm in my pussy. For reasons I couldn't explain, I locked the door, stripped naked, then tried on my aunt's nylons and the silkiest, frilliest panties in her drawer. Lying on their bed, I slowly scanned through the reel over and over again, squeezing my little nipples and running my hand up and down my thighs, abdomen and crotch. At that moment, for the first time, I found that exquisite little bump just above my vulva that felt ever so good whenever I rubbed over it. I slid my hand down inside those billowy sheer panties and tickled that growing little bump until suddenly my whole lower body began to shake and convulse. I thought for sure I was having a seizure or something, especially after I found my vulva all wet and gooey. For months after, I fretted over what I'd done and have never told a soul until that day with Louise. To my dismay, my daydreams began to center around those photographic adventures of that woman and on impulse I found myself shopping for my own filmy underwear and performing private little torture experiments on myself, getting to know all the most erotic secrets of my body. I lost my virginity to my hairbrush handle one sleepless night, shortly after and up until I married Doug, I couldn't survive even a day without poking anything that would fit into myself. Looking straight into Louise's eyes, I told her, "I guess I'm still searching for that old stump root in my mind!" I had a good understanding of sex well before I viewed that photo reel, but had never been told that penis-shaped objects might be just as good as the real thing, especially when combined with some silky lingerie. "Penises might be natural, but dildos are longer lasting and a lot less hassle!" I philosophized as I ended my story. Louise immediately asked, "Weren't you concerned about the sadistic overtones of the photos?" I told her that never entered my mind because they were merely a 1950's form of slapstick humor, sort of kike a sexy cartoon that obviously was grossly exaggerated. The woman never showed any expression of pain, only surprise with each new predicament, so I suppose my peculiar little passions originated from that realization. I asked Louise, while we were on this subject, where her passion for tying up her lovers originated. She blushed vividly, then began, "When I was little and we lived in the Gaspe, near the New Brunswick border, we used to play Acadians and Scots. It was kind of a French Canadian version of Cowboys and Indians. I particularly enjoyed being an Acadian outcast taking revenge upon the Scottish immigrant settlers, who were pushing us off our land. The little Scottish girl a few doors away was my favorite target and I just loved capturing her, tying her up to a tree and poking her all over with my stiff little finger. I would then leave her crying and securely tied up after filling her underpants with lumps of dirt." Louise continued after a pause, " A few years later, after we moved down to Phillipsburg Quebec, both of my parents had to work to keep our family fed. They couldn't afford a sitter for us after school so we were left alone to fend for ourselves. We could, however get U.S. programs on our little TV, but they were mostly cartoon or westerns in those days. My favorite show, "Annie Oakley" revolved around a tough young pioneer woman who could ride horse, shoot and lasso as well as any man. In the most memorable episode, Annie was chasing a thieving barroom-dancing girl, making her getaway on a stolen horse. Using her roping skills while galloping behind in hot pursuit, Annie threw her lasso over the femme fatale's upper body, cinched it tight, right across the girl's breasts, and then stopped abruptly. This yanked the stuntwoman off her horse so suddenly it caused her legs to shoot straight out and widely spread, wherein her skirt and crinolines blew up around her waist. She landed with a bone-jarring thud on her poor little bum, cushioned only by her frilly French underpants. Annie leapt off her horse with her rope in hand and hog-tied the dancehall girl just as slickly as a rodeo rider could." "Like you, Laura, I remember the sequence almost in slow-motion and played it back through my mind many times since. To my adolescent mind, her breasts looked round and supple, squashed by the tight lasso. Her stocking covered legs, frilly panties and billowing petticoats seemed so flirty and exciting, but with those coarse ropes all wound around her upper body, hands and ankles, she looked just like a birthday present all tied up in ribbons and bows." she recollected. She told me her fascination grew stronger after peeking in her father's detective magazines. Apparently they often showed illustrations of women in torn clothing helplessly tied up by their captors, awaiting untold sexual tortures. A wistful expression came to Louise as she continued, "My fascination finally became an obsession after finding a girly magazine of my older brother's when I was about fifteen. In it there were many glossy photos of models dressed in revealing lingerie, trussed and bound in erotic poses. Recently, a re-release of all those old Betty Page photos just whet my appetite even more." As Louise walked me to the door, she handed me the sliced cucumber dish and suddenly blurted out, "So, do you think you'd like me to tie you up some time?" I answered with, "Ah, but of course Madame, as long as you're willing to indulge me in my little lingerie perversion while you're doing it." Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 05 Dear Dirty Diary, A few days and Doug and I were shopping in the mall. We went into a restaurant for a coffee. To my surprise, we saw my sweet Louise who, as it turned out, was a hostess there. When our eyes met, her shone dark and sparkling. Her nipples swelled and poked through the bodice of her blouse. We flirted back and forth with coy little glances to the point where I licked my top lip as my mind swam through delightful little memories of her. When she spontaneously gave me a big warm hug, she knocked loose a broach on my sweater. She carefully straightened and repined it, then smoothed my sweater across my breasts, then patted my nipple erect. At that point, I remembered that my husband was standing with me and was giving us both the oddest of looks. Blushing, I began to introduce them, but when she blushed after making eye contact with Doug, an expression of revelation swept across his face. "Oh crap, he knows!" shot through my brain as he shook her hand graciously, while at the same time searching into her eyes for the truth. Louise's eyes met his for a moment then quickly shot away, desperately searching for an escape from all this awkwardness. She picked up some menus and said, "Come, I'll take you to a nice booth." As I followed Louise down the aisle, my ears rang with my boot steps and nervously concentrated on Doug's as he followed. When we were comfortably seats, he took up and scanned his menu. After a few seconds, I heard him clear his throat and say, "And just how close of friends have you two become?" then stared right into my eyes for his answer. I dropped my eyes to the table, said, "Closer than you could ever imagine." then took a frightened glance at his searching eyes. The blood pounded in my brain as I stared at my husband. "Well, where did we go from here?" he finally said. "It's all up to you, Doug." I replied in terror. "Laura, before I jump to any conclusions, am I correct in assuming that you and Louise are having some kind of an affair?" he questioned. "Something like that." I confessed. Doug sighed, swallowed, bit his bottom lip, and then looked away from me. My ears began ringing and I felt as if the whole world was closing in on me. After a moment or two, he sighed again and said, "Well, I guess I had it coming to me." As he looked back at me, he continued, "Have I really not been there for you or is it something else?" "A little of both." I replied. Doug looked down for a few seconds and took a deep breath. "I'm sure I could be more attentive, but what else is involved here? What can she do for you that I can't?" he questioned. "Just different stuff." I answered, somewhat elusively. "Trust me, my friendship with Louise is no threat to our relationship. It just makes me feel young and alive." I reassured Doug. My husband contemplated the situation for a few moments then confided, "I suppose I could feel hurt and threatened, but to tell you the truth, I don't. I am in awe of your newfound friskiness and I'd certainly be a real hypocrite if I resented your happiness." He looked at me lovingly and said, "As long as it does not affect us adversely and I continue to benefit from your experiences, I promise to look after you better and not get in the way of your relationship with Louise." Initially impressed with his understanding attitude, I soon felt there must be a hidden catch. I suggested knowing him, he'd probably want to watch us fooling around or make it a threesome. "That, my Dear, would be an intrusion of your privacy and I would never push myself into your affair." I speculated that there must be something he wanted out of this. "All right then." he replied, "Write me stories about your activities. You took a course in technical writing at community college, so compose me perhaps, a diary, a dirty diary that tells me what you've done, what you enjoyed and what you long for from me, to fulfill your desires and fantasies." I told him I could see my way clear to that, to which he added, "Just use first names in it and for God's sake, don't ever let it out of your sight." ________________________________________________ Dear Dirty Diary, In April Louise's mother had a stroke and was not expected to recover. She felt obliged to go home. Once in her bedroom, Louise gave me a single tiny gold hoop earring. She said it was one of a pair she'd bought for us to share. When she said she was already wearing hers, I looked high and low up both her ears, but found no matching hoop. She smiled impishly at me then lifted up her nightgown to show me the tiny gold earring pierced right through her bulging clitoris! I bent down for a closer look. Louise watched me intently as I reached out and touched it. She moaned softly when I hooked the tip of my fingernail through it and pulled down on it. Like a child with her favorite toy, I flicked my fingertip down over and over, giving her the worst case of wobbly knees you could ever imagine. I traced my other finger down her slit and by the time it reached the bottom, my finger was so wet with her sap, it just slipped right into her little pink hole. I furiously flicked that fingertip across the coarse textured skin of her G-spot while tugging incessantly on the hoop with the other. I felt her hot wetness trickle down my finger and puddle in my palm. After a few seconds of my unrelenting torture, she trembled and shuddered on quivering legs as wave after wave of orgasm ripped through her poor little body. After licking her creamy juices from my fingers, I remarked upon how good that ring through her clit obviously must feel. Louise rolled her eyes and said, " My sweetest, yours is going to keep you so aroused you'll think of me every time you move." That said, she got a bowl off her dresser that contained a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a cigarette lighter, cotton swabs, latex gloves and a small curved sewing needle. I asked her what all this stuff was for, to which she replied, "Why, your piercing of course!" She continued, "This is a pierced earring Laura." When I stared at that menacing looking steel needle, Louise assured me that she knew exactly how to do it. She told me that she'd done her own two weeks before and assured me I'd hardly feel a thing. Apprehensively, I let Louise undress me. She passionately hugged and reassured me as she peeled off the last of my clothing. She had me lie back on her bed and spread my legs as wide as was comfortable. She turned around her reading light and shone it on my pussy. Holding out a long handled mirror, she said, "I suppose you'll want to watch." I focused the mirror so I could admire my still shaven, pink little pussy. She began swabbing lots of alcohol up and down my labia. She poured more rubbing alcohol into the bowl, pulled on her latex gloves like a doctor and then thoroughly bathed her fingers. Holding the eye of the needle with her fingertips, she picked up and lit the lighter with her other hand. She gingerly sterilized the curved needle with the flame and then dropped it into the alcohol dish. Likewise, she sterilized the earring with fire and alcohol and then spread Ambusol all over my clitoris with her fingertip, arousing it erect in the process. Louise put on her reading glasses then dipped a little rubber ball in the alcohol. She then pressed it between the folds of my labia, up against the underside of my clit and plucked the needle from the dish. She lightly poked the end of my clit with the tip of the needle but the Ambusol had done its job and I felt nothing. I watched her brace her clenched hand against my inner thigh and then carefully press the tip of the needle into the topside of my clitoris, right where it protruded from its hood. Satisfied she had it centered on my most erotic spot, Louise tilted the needle down towards my pubic mound then peeked at its angle of trajectory from the side. Seeing my face in the mirror watching her, she winked back at me and then explained, " For your clit to be perfectly pierced, the needle would have to exit a little closer to the tip." "Exit?" I wondered in curiosity just before a searing pain shot through me like a tiny bolt of lightning. Louise had pushed the needle right through my erect clit and buried it deeply into the rubber ball! Tears of terror welled up in my eyes when she pulled the rubber ball off, leaving me with the reality of this huge shiny stainless steel needle skewered right through my most vulnerable part. Realizing my pain, Louise immediately daubed more Ambusol on my clit. She quickly worked that immense needle back and forth, spreading the pain deadener into my screaming little wound! After a few a few seconds, the pain all but subsided. Louise then pulled most of that gigantic skewer through my shriveling clitoris. She deftly threaded the open pin-end of the earring just into the needle's eye. Pulling on the needle while pushing on the earring in perfect synchronization, she drew the earring right through my mortally wounded little clit then clicked it closed. Louise dried my tears while apologizing for all the pain she'd put my poor little clitoris through. She assured me that the pain wouldn't return as long as I kept it clean with alcohol and dulled with Ambusol for a few days. The rest of the evening, to draw my attention away from my piercing, she encouraged me to torture her tender bits in any way I saw fit. She dumped out her entire drawer of pleasure toys on the bed and urged me to, "Just do me as rough as you want!" How could I rough up the person who pleased me in ways I never dreamed of? My clitoris felt no worse than a tooth after being filled so I chose to leave what I knew would be a more lasting memory with my little sweetheart. I got up, fetched a comb and her battery bikini trimmer and prepared for the shearing! I made Louise lay sideways back on the edge of her bed and dangle her legs down over the side. I put a towel under her bum, a pillow on the floor, kneeled down between her spread legs then took up her comb in my left hand. I combed deeply through her pubic hairs then slid the comb as close as I could against one side of her labia. With my right hand I clicked on the electric shaver and grinned as the smelly, sticky hairs fell away. I repeated her fleecing along the other side of her labia then skimmed down the insides of her thighs. I combed and buzzed away the soft down where her rounded little buttocks grew from her crotch then crept back up to her clitoral hood. With her comb as my protective guide I ever so carefully tapered up the underside of her mound to her curly brown thicket. I neatened up and tapered out its edges then thinned out the tangled triangle of kinky hairs. At that point, I blew the bulk of the clippings down onto the towel then put on her reading glasses to examine my workmanship. What looked OK while I was shearing now looked sparsely patchy through the magnifying lenses of her glasses. I took off the shaver's guard for the close shave my project obviously needed then with the utmost of care shaved off the patches of stubble. So intent was my concentration, it wasn't until I detail-trimmed the lower folds of her labia that I noticed a creamy droplet oozing from her provocatively dilated little pink clamshell. I put down the comb, buzzed the backside of the shaver against her clitoris briefly then collected up her trickled down sap with the tip of my tongue. I nabbed that big fluffy makeup brush from her bureau and swept down the last of the clippings. I could see that with all that protective hair removed, she was already feeling pleasures forgotten since puberty, for her cup seemed to be running over! The more I brushed, the more her sap ran. I lapped up what now tasted like virgin olive oil. With gusto I slathered clean the delicate fringe of her newly beardless clam, knowing I had successfully achieved my intent. I knew every move she would make and every step she would take while wearing any kind of panties would tickle her labia stubble and drive her absolutely crazy with lust for me for the next four months!!! "Well, the appetizer was fun but when does rough stuff come? I've been mean and I deserve a little quality punishment now, don't you think?" Louise taunted as she felt her baby smooth pubes. I searched through the stuff on the bed, found her eyeglasses string and snared her teats with it. I clipped the clasp of a fine gold necklace chain onto her clit ring and then hooked the other end onto the glasses cord. Each time I tugged on the chain, to jerk her nipples and clit, the little devil just took it all in stride and actually appeared to be enjoying my abuse. To show her who was boss, I gave her a long steady pull, stretching her teats and clitoris as far as they would go. Wouldn't you know it; she just loved that as well! Taking a new direction for my vengeance, I undid her nipples and clit from their bondage. I grabbed onto those huge teats, squeezed them flat and then twisted them around in opposite directions. This time, a lusty grin was her only reaction. Next, I took hold of her little clit hoop, twisted it back and forth and then finally wound it up clockwise like a key on a stuffed toy. This only managed to produce a sluttish moan. Frustrated, I picked up her incredible gold vibrator. I plugged it in, lubed it up and set it for maximum expansion. I spread her labia with my fingers to ease insertion of the mighty vibrator but she was already sopping wet. When it slid into her with one easy thrust, she gave me a really sluttish smirk. "This'll wipe that saucy look off your face!" I said as I flicked on the vibrator. It shook her fleshy little labia like jelly, then it immediately bloated up, I swear as big as a cucumber. Indeed, that did wipe the grin off Louise's face and replaced it with a look of terror until the dildo clicked and shrank down. After a few seconds, it clicked again and began to expand once more. Louise arched her back and dug her fingers into the sheets as the vibrator shook and stretched her pussy. Again the machine clicked and deflated. After three pulses, the fear in her eyes transformed to lust. Each time the vibrator ravaged her poor little pussy, her level of ecstatic pleasure visibly rose. Her beet-red teats swelled up like bumpy overripe raspberries from their aureoles and her little gold hoop poked straight up out of her clit each time her labia was expanded by her glorious machine. She seemed to be developing an insatiable lust for extreme sexual stimulation and was obviously caught up in some weird sadomasochistic trance. I shut the vibrator off and pulled it out but her pussy remained hugely dilated and limp appearing. Thoroughly appalled at what I had done to my darling's poor little pussy, I asked Louise if I had crossed the line into abuse like her ex-husband. She felt down, shoved her whole little hand into her pussy, drew it out then examined it closely. She looked down at her chest, smiled then replied, "My genitals don't seem to be bleeding at all and my breasts don't look all bruised up like they were when Marc was done with me. Everything you did was intense but most of it felt really good." The little minx! As I put away her toys, I came upon a set of tiny clear-glass bells with a rubber bulb on their little ends. I asked Louise what these ones for and she casually replied, "Why nipple torture, silly. You didn't think my nipples got this big without help, did you?" She pressed the mouth of the bell over my left nipple, squeezed the bulb once and then released it. My teat began to tingle like crazy and when I looked down, I was amazed to see it deep red and hugely bloated inside the bell! After a few moments, she squeezed the bulb again and pulled it off my nipple, which shrunk back to normal but stayed erect. She told me that if I suctioned my teats often enough, they'd get more sensitive and I'd really get hooked on the sensation. However, she did warn me that my nipples might get embarrassingly erect really easily under silky blouses and camisoles if I didn't wear a cozy bra. My nipple stayed erect for half an hour and tingled for hours after! When Louise saw me staring intently at the rest of her toys, she told me to feel free to experiment while she was away then added, "Speaking of using each other's belongings, would you think it kinky if I borrowed something of yours to wear when I'm missing you?" "Of course not." I replied, thinking she'd ask for something like a sweater of a scarf. "Could I have the panties you wore over today?" she asked cautiously. I suppose in our female comfort logic, this somehow seemed like a reasonable request. Instinctively, I sniffed my lacy back panties as I picked up and neatly folded them. When I told Louise I hoped they weren't too gooey from fantasizing over her all afternoon, her sad dark eyes lit up. I told her they were great strolling panties because the scalloped lace at the leg openings teased your pubic hairs and the loose nylon on the seat tickled your bum as you walk along. We crawled back into bed and snuggled for a while. Up until now, our encounters had mostly been lust-based romps but this time it was different. With teary eyes, Louise lamented over our separation. For the last few months, hardly a week went by without some kind of contact between us. My situation wasn't as acute as hers, thankfully. I had a husband to be with and whenever I watered her plants, I would have the opportunity to daydream about her, here amongst her possessions. Realizing the lateness of the hour and remembering that Doug promised to call at 10:30, I left her bed and began to dress. Louise asked me if my clit was still tender and gave my ring a flick. I swear it felt like she'd touched my clit with a cattle prod, the way I jumped. It didn't really hurt but the earring sure did make my little clitoris hyper. Louise told me hers healed completely in a couple of days. I foolishly believed her when she promised everything would be back to normal by the weekend. Little did I know! By Friday afternoon when I picked up Doug at the airport, all the pain had indeed disappeared but the hyper-ness persisted. Every time I got my little car up to highway speed, the vibrations through my seat would buzz my clit hard as a rock. I tried moving the seat and changing my speed but as long as my right foot was on the gas, I couldn't concentrate on anything other than that infernal earring buzzing away at me. It's a wonder I wasn't killed on that drive. Thankfully, Doug drove home so I was able to bet some relief from the vibrations. Wouldn't you know it, the first thing Doug did after getting into bed was to wrap his hand around me and grope my pussy! So tired as we both were, I still had to explain how that earring got on my clitoris while he was away for just those four days. I tried to convince him it was a welcome-home present but he knew better. He flicked at it a few times, half-heartedly but was breathing heavily and fell asleep within a minute, leaving me wide awake with a hyper-aroused clitoris. Thoroughly miffed at my being deserted by both of my lovers, I vowed to take things into my own hands, literally and began to play with my little present from Louise. I flicked it, wiggled it back and forth but quickly found the best sensation was from pulling lightly up on it, then giving it a little shake. I gave it six good shakes and had two good orgasms just like that! Oh, what a night! Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 06 Dear Dirty Diary, The next Monday, after Doug went to work, I went over to Louise's to water her plants and check for the e-mails she promised to send to her own computer so Doug couldn't pry into our affairs. There was nothing yet but when I accidentally clicked her address bar down, I saw all the web sites she'd been browsing. Many of them had sexy-sounding names and I noticed she visited some of them several times so I clicked on one of them. It showed all kinds of nude women's pictures on the web page so I just kept clicking whenever it said to. All of a sudden, a close-up photo of a woman's pussy with a lit candle inserted, dripped hot wax down her clitoris in front of me. "Sorta been there!" I chuckled to myself. I clicked on and on, Browsing through scores of pictures of women being tied up, having their nipples tortured, pussies filled with everything imaginable. In spite of their predicaments, I thought it inspiring that they were all still managing carnal smiles for the camera. In awe of these images, I shut down the computer and let my mind imagine how many more perversions we could experiment with. Like a link in a computer, my mind clicked onto Louise's toy drawer. With trembling hands, I pulled out her drawer and thoroughly examined each naughty little item. It was so arousing to touch each toy, knowing that they all had either been attached to her tender bits or stuffed up her pussy. No matter how objective I tried to remain while examining her collection, my curiosity was continuously drawn to the gold vibrator. In the back of the drawer, I found a pamphlet that explained all of its features. After digesting everything, I realized it had yet another function. If you pulled out on the control switch, not only would it vibrate in timed pulses, it would also automatically swell larger with each pulse. Unable to contain myself any longer, I lubed it up with KY, pushed it all the way into my vulva and set it for full automatic function after plugging it in. The vibrations were strong and really shook my vulva. Just when it began to drive me crazy, it would click off, swell up a little more then begin to shake again. After about ten minutes of this ever-escalating cycle, my pussy felt rubbery enough to take on a zucchini. I reached down and found that my clitoris stood up just like Louise's each time the vibrator bloated up. I also found that pushing my clit down slightly so it touched against the vibrator, shook my clitoris into three ecstatic orgasms in such rapid succession, I was unable to stand or walk for nearly an hour! I looked around Louise's empty bedroom, peeked in her clothes drawers and found a heavy little 14 carat gold, heart-shaped locket and chain with her picture inside, tucked away in a corner of her underwear drawer. On a notion, I clipped the locket onto my clit ring and with my legs spread wide apart, gave it a swing. To my clit, it felt simply glorious but it was too much for my poor quivering legs right then. I pulled my panties up tight to keep it still, put away her toys and returned home. Hoping it might be a good luck charm if I combined it with Louise's present, I vowed to wear them both to remind me of her. After having a shower, the phone rang. As I trotted, still naked, to grab the phone, Louise's locket vigorously swung back and forth from my clit ring, delivering the most delicious of sensations. After I hung up, I must have spent twenty minutes strutting around through the condo, trying different walking styles to find the one that gave the most erotic stimulation. A slow shuffle laced with hip humps like I'd seen Caribbean women do at Caribana felt really good. I needed a boogie beat to hump to and just like that it came to me! It took a couple minutes of searching, but I found my old Tractors cassette and cranked up "Boogie Woogie Choo-Choo Train" on my Walkman. Louise's locket jerked my clitoris mercilessly to the intoxicating rhythm as I shuffled from our bedroom to the bathroom. I humped my way into the guest bedroom closet where I found and put on my ancient wooden clogs. I clomped, snapped my fingers and jiggled my boobies along that long hall past the staircase. When something brushed my ankle, I looked down and his hand was protruding through the balusters! If this were the Ally McBeal show, the sound of a needle scratching across a record would have ended the fun. However, this is not a TV show, so a punched a button on my Walkman to stop the music. "What in hell are you doing?" I heard from down in the stairwell. With my best aloof expression I replied, "Rewinding!" I punched the play button again, spread my arms wide and grabbed onto railing with both hands. I leaned well over the banister and alternately shrugged each shoulder in time to the music. That sent my breasts into the most undisciplined pattern of jounces. As the Cheshire Cat grinned up, I set my hips into rotating humps, which in turn sent Louise's locket into motion once more. He peered through the balusters, seemingly engrossed by what he witnessed for a minute then stepped up the stairs toward me. I swung my hips around like a stripper entranced by the lusty pleasures I felt. He said nothing. He just ambled up behind me and with no forewarning whatsoever I felt his hot knob split my labia. I wiggled and humped and then I felt a very fat penis stretch through my vulva and ram into my vagina! I felt his hairy thighs thump into the backs of my legs. I felt his soft belly splat against my ass as his unusually hot fingers dug into my hips! And then, I felt his nuts whap time after time against my gyrating locket! By the time the second chorus of "Baby likes to rock it!" finished in my headphones I felt his thrusts intensify and then fade quickly so I humped him deep into me and gyrated my hips to the beat of my music. I felt a hot gush flood into my vagina but I just kept on groovin' to the music. But when he shriveled and fell out that's when the choo choo slid off its tracks! There's nothing like the feeling of lukewarm sperm dribbling down one's inner thighs to sour a train ride! Doug stopped for a pee then as he brushed past me as if nothing much had happened, I stared with disgust into his pale sad eyes. I wiped off his cold slime with a hot washcloth and got all dressed up in my exercise outfit. With that sweaty fore-headed lump preparing to nap out on me, I decided to work off all that passion on my old exercise bike downstairs! The seat was loose and its cover was badly cracked so I put the gel seat pad from my mountain bike over it. It still wiggled back and forth a bit but was really comfy. I set its timer for a ten-minute sprint but after a few minutes, the seat began to wobble about. I bounced down hard with all my weight then twisted back and forth, hoping to tighten up the seat so I could continue. It crunched terribly, then suddenly made a cracking noise and abruptly dropped down an inch or so! I felt something push up under me but the seat didn't feel as loose anymore so I continued pumping. When the bell rang after the ten minutes was up, I got off, all red-faced and excited and examined the seat. The gel pad was all shiny wet along the newly formed hump. I felt down and found my stretchy bicycle shorts were equally soaked with my vaginal juice from all that rubbing. I peeled off the gel pad to see what had caused the hump. It seemed the seat post had broken right through the brittle old saddle and was sticking up through the middle of it. I pushed on the front of the seat when suddenly it let go. It slid down the post, crashing right down onto the bike's frame. I looked at the shiny chrome post poking at least six or seven inches through the seat and thanked my lucky stars that I hadn't leaned ahead while riding. That hard steel pipe would have been a lot more thrill than I was ready for! My devious little mind whirred as I ran my fingers up and down the cold hard post. A light bulb lit up in my brain and I was up the stairs to our bedroom as quick as a flash. I skipped back down the stairs, gleefully clutching Doug's evil penis enhancing condom. I slipped it down over the post but it just flopped around loosely on the thin pipe. Reason told me that if it were padded somehow, it would fill out the condom and would feel softer and warmer to the touch. I looked around Doug's workshop and there, covering the pipes coming out the top of the hot water heater were lengths of dark gray foam pipe insulation. The exercise bike's seat post wasn't much thicker than the water pipes so I peeled a chunk off. I trimmed it to the right length with scissors, wrapped it around the post and rolled the condom down it. Oh my, it was a sight to behold, sticking up out of the seat, so lewd and evil looking. It was spongy and soft when I squeezed it and tight fitting on the seat post. I noticed that the black insulation showed through the latex, giving it a dark tone along its shaft. Other than the pink corona, it looked exactly, like Johnston's penis! Memories of that night flooded back into my brain as I studied my creation. It was about the same thickness and nearly as long as Johnston's and crazy notions of fulfillment raced through my head. Of course, I immediately named it "Johnston" then raced back upstairs to get the KY. After I spread lots of goop all over the monster, I whipped off my bicycle shorts, shoved the mouth of the tube into my pussy and squeezed a big blob of lubricant into my vulva. I feverishly spread more all over my labia. My thighs quivered in anticipation as I stepped up onto the pedals! Standing straight legged on the pedals, I inched my bottom backwards until I felt the slippery latex corona brush between my bare buttocks. I pumped my hips back and forth slightly so the big fat knob would split me open. When I figured I was ready, I moved my hips back and looked down at it. It looked every bit as disgustingly evil as the last time I saw it. I recalled some of those same insane thoughts I conjured up on our first meeting, combined that with my passion for Johnston then let my mind wallow in the mire of my invented lust. I'd rub back and forth against it then stare at it over and over, reveling in my evil notions. It was my intention just to tease my vulva but my quivering thighs gave out on me and I went into a free fall down on the post. In a split second, it seared right up through my entire vagina and stopped only when my crotch slammed down hard on the seat! Afraid to even breathe, I sat motionless and waited for the pain to rush through me. After four heartbeats, no real pain ripped through me. My crotch and bum tingled from their hard landing but my pussy just felt hot and strangely smug about being split and impaled on my evil Johnston post. I lifted up and off then carefully got off the exercise bike. I wiped my fingers through my slit then checked them for blood. No blood! I looked up and down the shining wet condom but again, no trace of blood. Thank God for KY jelly! Satisfied I hadn't damaged it, my pussy's throbbing immediately told me it was empty and wanted to play again. Carefully I squatted down on the seat again. The second launch was much slower and I felt every inch of Johnston's corona plunge up into me. I wiggled my hips a little as I sat and immediately felt the rigidity of its steel core. I wiggled back and forth to loosen myself up. Upon hearing the usual rude slurping noises emanating from my pussy, I carefully began to pump the pedals. Standing up on the pedals, I pumped hard, as one does while bicycling up steep hills. That produced a rhythmic bobbing action in my hips. That motion resulted in a gloriously smooth, seven inch long thrust up and down the dildo. Between Louise's locket flopping my clit around and my big spongy Johnston plunging away at my pussy with each and every pump of the pedals, I was sure I'd found heaven. Following my routine, I went next door to Louise's to water her plants. Sitting at her computer, I smugly contemplated what had assuredly been the most superlative week of depravity and self-indulged sexual gratification in the history of the world! I thought briefly about going to church to seek forgiveness or enrolling in therapy for sexually obsessed sluts like me. Last week, however, had certainly been a new awakening in my sexuality so I'm forgiving myself all my sins by blaming Louise for my addictions. I was a good little wife and mother until I met up with her. I'm wondering if there's a chat room on the Internet for fallen women. Oh lookie here, A Valentine's Day message pour moi! With great anticipation I read: "Oh Laura, I need you so badly. I've just returned from the funeral parlor after making the arrangements. There's a terrible winter storm raging outside and my brother is unsure if our cousins from Gaspe will be able to get here for Mother's burial. It will be a few weeks before everything is settled here so I'll bring you a pretty little Valentine present you can touch and taste before the end of the month. I love you so much that just the thought of you makes me quiver! Till then, Louise xxx Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 07 Dear Dirty Diary, Doug's birthday began exactly as I anticipated. The hype and advertising for the Stanley Cup had been increasing for days and he was primed for Sunday's game. I was reminiscing about New Years day's events. Memories of lust and desire, excitement and disappointment began to fill my mind. I took stock of the year's activities and found myself amazed at the depravity I had experienced in these few short months. Being Sunday morning, I decided to repent and come to grips with my sins. I tried my best all morning to ignore all of my nagging clit's pleas for attention by putting all my energy into my turkey dinner. At supper Doug ate and ate with gusto, not slowing down until he devoured a second big slice of chocolate cake. The game played on but after about half an hour of fast moving action, he got out of his chair, stretched and said he needed to get a little exercise. He said he still felt stuffed and could use a little fresh air. I was finishing off the dishes about ten minutes later when the phone rang. It was Doug. He said he was next door in our condo's indoor swimming pool and asked me to bring some towels. I went next door as he asked but when I got to there, a sign saying "Closed for Maintenance", hung on the doorknob. I turned the knob and the door opened but when I went into the pool complex, it was in darkness except for the underwater lights. "Lock the door, we've got the whole thing to ourselves!" echoed Doug's voice from the deep end of the pool. I clicked the lock as he said and strolled down to where he was treading water. "Come on in, the water's fine!" he beckoned. I pointed out that I had no bathing suit to wear and he said, "Are you to old to have a skinny dip with your husband or just plain chicken?" I looked down at him in the shimmering blue water, saw his white abdomen, his pubic hair and a little pink protuberance and considered the dare. I whipped off my clothes and jumped into the water. We laughed and splashed and carried on like we were twenty again. When I jumped up and dunked his head under, he swam around behind me. He dove down, put his head between my legs and hoisted me up out of the water on his shoulders. I giggled as he bounced me up and down. I shrieked when he grabbed my feet and flipped me backwards into the warm water. No sooner than I got my hair out of my eyes, he flipped me again. I hadn't had so much fun with him in years. On the third hoist and flip, he bounced me up and down mercilessly. My poor breasts heaved up and then slapped down wetly against my ribs with each bounce. Between my excitement with our pool frolic and the air being cooler than the water, my nipples grew hugely erect and I suddenly started to shiver. My jaw shook, my teeth chattered and I was covered with goose bumps from head to toe. When Doug finally flipped me off his shoulders, I told him I was cold and needed to warm up in the hot tub. I got out of the pool, flipped off the cover and started up the Jacuzzi jets. The water was pretty hot when I climbed in so I immersed myself very gradually. I heard Doug grunt as he climbed out of the pool so I turned around to see what he was up to. I kneeled on a seat just in time to see the huge splash of the silly fool's cannon ball coming at me. I ducked down to avoid the cool splash and that's when a Jacuzzi nozzle's bubbly stream found my bare pussy! It blasted me only for a second but it "had me at hello". I moved in closer to the nozzle and spread my legs so that the jet hit me just right. Knowing Doug was unaware of what I was doing, I settled in for a little private pleasure. I lowered my breasts gradually into the foaming turbulent hot water. It became quite clear to me that life just couldn't get any better than this. There I was, naked in a hot tub, enjoying a Jacuzzi jet pummel my clitoris while tiny bubbles tickled the undersides of my breasts. Doug climbed out of the pool and cannon balled a few more times but after the last one, he just stood quietly in the shallow end. His face was ashen so I figured he was cold. I told him to get into the hot tub with me and warm up. He slowly climbed up the pool's ladder and when he turned toward me, I snickered and catcalled out, "Shrinkage or what there, Fat Boy!" With an anxious look on his face, he climbed up and into the hot tub. I grabbed hold of his cold shriveled-up little penis and dragged him by it over to my jet. I had to rub and stroke it a lot more than normal to get him hard. I convinced him to kneel on the seat like I had been doing then pulled his penis down so the jet's spray pulsed against his corona. I shamelessly squeezed and stroked him but his anxiety persisted. In spite of the heat, his face was still gray and when I felt his forehead, it was cold and sweaty. His eyes seemed to have lost much of their color and had that look of fear I'd noticed of late whenever we made love. When I asked him if he was all right, he stammered out, "I can't get my breath and my left arm is numb." My mother watched in helpless horror as Doug's father died in her arms of a heart attack eleven years ago. After that happened, I made it my business to learn exactly what to do. There was no way I was going to let Doug slip away without a fight! The adrenalin rushed through my whole body as I dragged him out of the hot tub. I sat him down on the floor, raised his head up with our clothes and then phoned 911. I gave them directions to the side door of the pool, covered Doug with towels and then yanked my dress down over my wet body. I grabbed my keys, reefed open our door and sprinted upstairs to the bathroom. I grabbed some aspirins and scampered back down to the pool as fast as I could. Thank God he was still conscious so I could get him to crunch up and swallow two aspirins. I propped the side door open with my shoe, then knelt down to console him. He looked so worried as I mopped his cold, clammy brow. Doug started to shiver from the cool draft coming through the door so I lay down on the floor beside him to protect him from the cold. "Squeeze my dick, Darlin', It's cold and I'm awful scared." He whispered as his eyelids closed slowly. As I gave him a good rub his eyelids would flutter but then close as soon as I slowed. In spite of playing with him his breathing grew slower and gentler and his penis began to shrivel. I gave it another good wiggle to keep him awake but his eyes were glazed over!!! Tears of terror flooded into my eyes as I screamed, "Don't you dare die on me now you son of a bitch!" into his face! Panicking, I straddled Doug, flattened one hand on top of the other on his chest and thumped as hard as I could! His eyes popped open in a startle after about 30 seconds of frenzied CPR and he complained, "I just had the strangest little dream where I was looking into a dark spooky cave. There were haloed images all around its entrance and when I went inside I was looking at the sparkly little embers on the walls. Then the next thing I know, here you are on top of me, pounding the crap out of me!" I undid my bodice's top buttons, flopped my warm breasts out onto his chest and started stroking his penis once more to keep him awake. He slid his shaky hand between my legs and up under my dress. The fool wasn't happy until he got his cool hand up and groped my pussy. "The pains have been increasing since before Christmas and I wouldn't admit to them because I knew I was dying, but now I'm ready." he said in a strangely contented voice and closed his eyes. "Like hell you are!" I answered and wiggled his penis around to keep him awake. His eyes popped open for a second, then closed again. I flopped his penis around again and quickly realized he'd stay awake as long as I continued. After a couple minutes of constant wiggling, his penis began to warm and started to grow. At that exact second, I heard a clattering outside and felt a blast of cool air as the ambulance attendants crashed their gurney through the door. I scrambled backwards to the wall to get out of their way and watched their every move. One opened up their medical kit, while the other checked Doug's breathing. That second paramedic strapped an oxygen mask on Doug's face, while the first examined my husband. He pulled the towel off Doug's chest, shaved a bunch of spots and stuck little round adhesive electrodes on his chest and ankles. The other paramedic briefly lifted the lower towel, saw Doug's half-erect penis and wryly muttered, "Seems to have a good enough pulse!" The other looked down, smiled and said, "Sure enough!" and then began to hook up the jumble of wires coming from a portable ECG unit. He fired the machine up, punched in some codes and away it went, spewing out a long paper tape of squiggly lines and blips. I was so scared that I just sat cross-legged and petrified there on the floor. The paramedic stared at the tape for a moment, then turned to me and asked me exactly what happened. As he wrote out his report, I related to him of how Doug got all pale and sweaty after swimming on a full stomach. As I told him that Doug was shivering with a cold sweat in the hot tub, his eyes wandered up and down between his pad and me. As I rambled on about how I got him out of the hot tub and covered him up, he nudged his partner and nodded toward me for some reason. That guy blushed a little, kneeled down in front of me and fiddled with some equipment on the floor as I told them how I fed him aspirins and did my best to keep him warm. The fellow writing told me Doug was stabilized now but they were taking him to the Special Care Unit to have some more tests done. When I thanked them for saving my husband, the younger fellow smiled and said, "The pleasure's been all ours." The first paramedic whacked him and now they both blushed as they packed their gear. For the first time since they'd arrived, I looked down and saw that my breasts were almost completely out of my bodice! I buttoned up quickly and then realized my skirts were hiked up my thighs and my legs were spread wide apart! I finally realized that they'd undoubtedly seen all the way up to China. Then I remembered that "China" had no underwear on, was shaved bald as a baby's bottom and was brandishing that shiny gold clit ring! The paramedics collapsed their gurney, lifted Doug onto it and then sprung it back up. They wrapped him snuggly in blankets and then loaded up their equipment. The older fellow talked to the dispatcher on his radio and then informed me they were admitting Doug at the hospital immediately and suggested I follow in my car. The younger paramedic handed me the clothes I'd stuffed under Doug, smiled knowingly and suggested that I change into something dry and warm or I might catch a cold on this cool spring night. I thanked him graciously then blushed vividly when I saw he'd carefully placed my bra and panties on the top of the pile. They crashed the gurney back out through the side door and were gone off into the night with my husband!!! I went back to my apartment, changed into a demure-looking outfit then drove over to the hospital. As I walked through the Emergency Department doors, I met the paramedics leaving the hospital. The older gentleman smiled, stopped and said to me, "Relax, you did well." He patted me on the shoulder and continued, "Getting those aspirins into him probably saved him from a lot of damage and you should be proud of yourself." He told me Doug would be pretty drowsy but he'd know I was there. When I finally got through all the red tape and was escorted to his bed, I just about cried. He was hooked up to beeping monitors, intravenous bags, an oxygen mask and even a little gizmo clamped to his finger. Every few minutes an automatic blood pressure monitor would whir and buzz. When I squeezed his hand, his eyes fluttered and opened briefly. He looked up at me drowsily, squeezed my hand back and then drifted back to sleep again. I stood there by the bed and just watched him breathe. His face and hands were pale and he looked so fragile that I was afraid to disturb him again. After a few minutes, a doctor carrying a chart came in and introduced himself. He explained that my husband had probably suffered a minor heart attack but it would take a couple of hours for enzyme tests to confirm his diagnosis. He assured me that Doug was in the finest of care and urged me not to worry. Easy for him to say! The doctor told me to go home and relax so Doug's heart could rest. Once back at home I really tried to keep my anxieties under control. I'd been trying my very best not to obsess over Louise's lengthy absence. Her mother had become gravely ill in early May. She passed away on Mother's Day but Louise stayed on to straighten up her mother's affairs and see about her inheritance. I hadn't heard from her in five days and I needed her so much. I couldn't stand it any longer and phoned Quebec. I told her about Doug, told her I loved her and missed her and she promised she'd be back soon. She said she had a couple of details to look into concerning her mother's house and reminded me to water her plants. Ten minutes after I hung up, I started to cry. I'd never felt so alone in all my life. The kids were supportive but there was no way they could mend my breaking heart. I went next door to Louise's looking for some comfort in her bedroom. All I found in there were shadowy memories of our lusty games. I tried to console myself with the gold vibrator but guilt and worry over Doug made it difficult to find pleasure with her fabulous toy. I searched through her erotic book drawer and found the big white briefs I gave her for our Elvis romp. Determined to find comfort somehow, I took her panties back home. Back in my lonely apartment, I picked up the shirt Doug was wearing in the pool and sniffed it. It still carried his scent and I felt compelled to have it close to me. I stripped off all my clothes and put on his big cotton shirt. I immediately felt that at least a part of him was there with me so it also seemed logical to seek out a part of Louise as well. I picked up and sniffed her panties. I convinced myself that the yellow stain on their crotch still retained a faint but perceptible essence of her. I reminded myself it was my actions that put that dried up patch right there. It came to me that if a drink of hot water and rye whisky plus my own hot lemon juice were shaken together, it might make that stale honey come alive again and flow into a Hot Toddy to lessen my misery. I pulled on Louise's starchy panties, mixed up a mug of hot water, a shot of liquor and a teaspoon of sugar then climbed into my bed. My cure for loneliness worked just fine. I downed the booze and three minutes of buzzing away with my little hand vibrator melted our pussy juices together into a slippery goop that saturated the whole crotch of Louise's panties. My initial orgasm came while I concentrated on the safe and secure manly scent of Doug's shirt. After a few minutes' recovery, a faster, stronger round of vibrations pushed Louise's creamy juices up into me. The thought of our fluids reuniting so homogeneously made me feel ever so complete. I slid my hand down inside the hot nylon panties and shoved in three fingers to check the progress of my recipe. Her creamy honey and my hot lemon pussy juice had mixed so perfectly in my pink little mug, that only a few more seconds of clit buzzing sent me into a second shuddering orgasm. . Doug's cardiologist called me the following morning, informed me his enzymes were indeed elevated, confirming he'd had a heart attack. Anxiety and tearful conclusions clouded my drive to the hospital. Doug was still quite pale and lethargic. I was told that the clot busters, blood thinners and blood pressure medications would cool him right down for a couple of months. I was told that a nuclear Thallium scan was necessary today to determine the extent of Doug's heart damage. The following day I rode by ambulance up to the City for an Angiogram. After the 45-minute procedure took 90 minutes, I was beside myself with worry, especially after that doctor showed me images of the two 90% blockages! He explained how they'd ballooned down the cholesterol lumps and installed two Stents to strengthen Doug's weakened arteries. On the positive side, he concluded that my husband could avoid imminent Bi-Pass surgery if he abandoned his unhealthy lifestyle. In less than twenty-four hours, I was forced through a crash course in heart disease and was then left to pick up the pieces of my life. Two more gut-wrenching days of tests showed that damage to his heart muscle was minimal, thank God. The following day, the life-style changes were explained to us. Low fat diets, rest, life-long medications, careful exercise and reduced stress were understandable but no sex for three months. How could I ever survive that? The day before Doug was to be released, I thought my salvation had been found. Louise was back. I spoke of pasts and futures and situations to be dealt with but Louise seemed oddly quiet. When I finally exhausted all of my concerns, she softly dropped a bomb on me. She told me, "I sold my Mother's house and have purchased an enchanting old house east of Cornwall on the Quebec side of the St. Lawrence River." Louise continued, "Every time I went home I passed by it and toyed with the idea of making it into a Bed and Breakfast, to get away from the madness of the GTA." I swear my heart stopped for a moment, then crumbled a little more. She told me there was plenty of room for my husband and me and showed me a bunch of drawings she'd had prepared by an architect. My head was spinning, I was jumping to all kinds of conclusions and all I could see was that my life was in ruins. Louise listed her condo with a realtor the following week. The following day, Doug's boss called me. The prick informed me that Head Office at the Motors wasn't prepared to take chances on Doug's delicate condition and was pensioning him off as soon as his recovery period was over! Perfect! A hot lover lost to another province and a cool husband disabled by inherited heart disease! Is this how clinical depression starts? Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 08 Dear Dirty Diary, I tried to relax but every thought led back to my ongoing string of bad luck. I thought back and brooded yet again over the theft of my car and the loss of my laptop computer. I got the car back after a week or so but the computer, with my shameful little diary in it was nowhere to be found. Then three weeks later, after the insurance claim gave me a new one, the police department phoned to tell me my computer had been recovered. I seriously considered getting it back, until Doug pointed out I'd have to give back the new one. I reminded him of my diary. He assured me that the only way I could be connected back to my stories would be by me physically retrieving my computer. I quickly realized there was no way I could handle the embarrassment of confronting a cop who may have read my diary. My Diary was gone and I was devastated. It wasn't that I read it over and over, it was that I'd lost all those thoughts and feelings I'd put into words. The insurance company replaced my computer, but the new one was just a little black box with no soul. I hooked it up to my phone line, loaded in my Sympatico disc and checked my e-mails. To my surprise, a mysterious message from myself was amongst the others. I opened it and was thrilled to find this message along with MY ENTIRE DIARY attached to it! Dear Laura, My name is Michelle and I'd like to explain to you how this message found its way to you. My husband is a tow truck driver and two weeks ago, his dispatcher sent him to pick up your stolen car from the ditch it was abandoned in. After he winched your car out of the muck, he found your laptop computer underneath. It was all scratched up and covered in mud, so Brad threw it into his truck's cab for safekeeping. He dropped your car off at the Police compound, but completely forgot about the computer. Friday came and when he cleaned out the truck for the weekend driver, he found your poor computer under the front seat. Brad thought it was wrecked for sure, figured you'd get a new one from the insurance company and brought it home. While he was packing our van to go to the cottage, I cleaned the caked mud off your computer with a toothbrush and vacuumed out all the dust. I pushed the power-on button and miraculously "Windows 98" lit up the screen. Brad suggested I bring it along to give my sister Amy and I something to amuse ourselves with while he and Tim were out fishing. On the way up to Kaladar, I plugged it into the lighter and checked through all the programs and files that were in it. I asked Amy what the "DDD" I noticed in My Documents might be. She thought it might be something private and told me not to mess with it. I clicked on it anyway and up came this file called "Dear Dirty Diary". I scanned through the first three paragraphs, exited it immediately and shut down the computer. Amy asked me if I was bored with it already. Blushing like crazy, I lied and told her I couldn't read a jiggling computer on such a rough road. Bright and early Saturday morning, the guys were off down the lake. It was a cool spring day so Amy lit the fireplace to get all cozy. Since the men would probably be hunting most of the day, we decided to be sloppy and lazy. Nightgowns and slippers were to be the dress code for the day and spoiling ourselves lavishly was to be our only concern. As we sipped our morning coffee, I casually told Amy about the story of yours I found last night. I told her it sounded really personal, sort of like a sexy diary. Showing her usual amount of regard for others' privacy, she immediately insisted that we read it. I clicked on your file once more and began to read your words aloud. Amy's impatience was soon rewarded with the details of your attempted affair with Johnston. I blushed from head to toe when I read aloud about your peculiar little pastimes after your husband ignored you on New Year's Day. When I recited your first encounter with Louise, Amy gave me the silliest look of disbelief you could ever imagine. At that point, she took control of the computer and took her turn at vocalizing your memoirs. I prepared us an emergency ration of chocolate treats to enhance our understanding of your stories but my God, Laura; I was completely unprepared for your frankness. We took turns reading from your diary as the morning crept on. We were so surprised by your words that we completely ignored everything around us. Amy would raise her eyebrows and give me a goofy look of astonishment whenever you described each new sexual thrill. Her mouth dropped open and her eyebrows arched at your feeding Doug vegetables that you'd been playing around with. I found that hearing myself utter your words brought out a side of me that I was unfamiliar with. The naive little girl inside of me listened to and learned from each line of your diary. By the time the final paragraph was read, our remaining innocence was lost. We sat in silence for a few moments to absorb fully what you had written. I told Amy we must get your computer back to you some how. It just wasn't right to steal and covet the most personal thoughts of another person. We agreed to have Brad make up some story, hand it in and have the police return your computer to you first thing Monday. I feel this written apology from us is in order for our invasion of your privacy. I began writing you and Amy decided to freshen herself up. When Amy returned from her shower, she was still wearing her bathrobe. She sat down on the sofa, then clipped and filed her toenails most carefully. Then she went to her room and returned with a big round hand mirror. As I typed away, she sat on the edge of the couch, then flipped open the lower half of her robe. She spread her legs, then held the mirror down between her thighs and began to study her bared genitals. After a few moments of close scrutiny, she wondered out loud if a hairless pussy might be fun for a while. I told her that Tim would just freak. She disagreed and suggested that her husband might just be tickled pink with a bald pussy. She swung around and flopped one leg up over the arm of the sofa. Amy lay back down on the cushions and looked over at me. She pulled a little electric shaver out of her pocket, held it out toward me and told me to get over there and shave her crotch. Amy is such a tart but this was going well beyond anything she'd done to me before. I ignored her but she kept at me about it. When she pointed out it wouldn't be much different than shaving legs or underarms, I reluctantly agreed. I kneeled down at the end of the couch and ever so carefully nipped away every last hair surrounding her pussy. I felt a little uncomfortable when I had to flip the folds of her labia back and forth so I could shave in closely. I felt a lot more uncomfortable when I noticed how wet and dilated her vulva became as I buzzed around it. I felt really uncomfortable when I realized the vibrating sensations of the shaver had also caused Amy's clitoris to poke up out of its bald little hood. My shaving her undeniably had aroused her. The second I shut off the shaver, she checked herself out in the mirror. She seemed pleased with what she saw then informed me it was my turn! I told her there was no way, but she threatened to tell the guys that I attacked her, tied her up and shaved her in a fit of insane passion. Amy pushed me back down on the sofa, then sat down backwards on my chest and pulled my nightgown up around my waist. I wiggled and protested, but she was possessed and her busy shaver quickly buzzed over ever nook and cranny of my pubes. As soon as she let me up, I too, examined myself in the mirror, but my skin was all red and raw everywhere she'd shaved. When I complained, she told me not to be a baby, got some skin cream, squirted some in her palm and then to my astonishment, smeared it all over my itchy genitals. She asked if I'd like to cream her up, but I politely declined. She made a point of massaging cream all over herself, not once, but twice. As if nothing special had just happened, Amy plopped down on the opposite end of the couch and rubbed more skin cream into her arms and legs. I was still shaken by the experience so I tried to find solace by continuing my letter to you. I pulled my up my legs to rest the computer on and nervously began to compose again. Amy continued her preening and I, my typing. She has just finished moisturizing her feet with lots of skin cream and curiously, I feel what seems to be her warm smooth big toe press against my pussy! I feel the slippery toe tickle around, then push into my vulva! It feels so big and alive as it wiggles about inside me! I'm trying my best to ignore these incredible sensations by continuing to type. I've looked up and am glaring at Amy, who's lustfully grinning back. I realize exactly Laura, where these crazy notions are coming from but that smirk on her face is too much to bear. Two can play at this game! Take that Amy! Oh my, my big toe just slid right into her vulva. Are big toes supposed to feel wetness like this? She's getting so creamy and loose as I wiggle my toe! I can feel my heart pounding up the side of my neck! Damn you! Damn you Laura! PS. Just to make absolutely sure you get this message before I've cooled down, I'm sending it, as well as your stupid story to the Email address we found in your Sympatico information file! Yours Hatefully, Michelle ----------------------------------------------------- After receiving that less than glowing reaction to my diary, I resigned myself to a summer of boring, doting wife activities, all centering around my husband's convalescence period. However, I was surprised at how quickly he bounced back from his heart attack. He was enrolled in a wonderful Cardio-Rehab program through the hospital that completely took over his life. He'd walk for hours through the marshes and the lakeshore trail. He attended weekly lectures that taught him about heart and cardio-vascular health. He stuck to the Canada Food Guide's principles and in only six weeks had lost 25 lbs. Most curiously of all, Doug's eyes changed. They were clear, sparkling and blue as the Alberta sky! I guess the eyes are more than the gateway to the soul. It seemed they were also the best indicator of bodily health. One Saturday in mid June, Doug brought home a lightweight aluminum canoe from a yard sale and an electric trolling motor with battery from a sporting goods store. Halfway through our maiden voyage it became aware to me that my paddling was more hindrance than help. The little electric trolling motor pushed our canoe up our meandering creek effortlessly. After we passed through the immense 401 culvert sunken bicycles, tires and old shopping carts halted our expedition so we turned around. I had Doug stop inside the giant culvert so I could have a pee without exposing myself to the truckers whizzing by up on the highway. With all those babbling brook sounds echoing under the six-lane, a certain middle-aged mother of two dribbled profusely as she swung her leg out of the canoe and onto the bank! Once I was completely relieved, I climbed back in but chose to face rearward to get a different perspective of things and keep any eye on that damaged husband of mine I felt like a Victorian heroine, dreamily gliding along and trailing my fingertips in the water. As idyllic as it all seemed, the fact still remained that my wet panties felt gross and were dampening the joy of the experience so I whipped off my shorts to speed my underwear's drying. Suddenly a face I hadn't seen in nearly twenty years was starring intently at my crotch! I've never understood why men were turned on by women's erect pink nipples peeking through wet white T shirts, so I certainly wasn't prepared for the glimpse of passion in Doug's sparkling blue eyes. It seemed my husband was turned on by wet panties as much as wet T shirts! He stopped the motor dead in the middle of the stream and reached out to the center thwart. He pulled himself up then kneeled on the floor. When he ran his thumb up my crotch, I said, "They're not that kind of wet, you old fool!" "They could be." he mused as he clinched his fingers down inside my waistband. He dragged down the front of my silken white briefs then jammed the pee-soaked billow of nylon against my pussy. Three wiggly swirls and I felt the tautly stretched spandex fold my labia lips tightly into my vulva. I felt the narcotic pleasure of that gossamer-cloaked thumb grind into my ever so pleased vagina. After thirty seconds or so of deep French kissing and intense massaging, he pulled his thumb from the wet silky wad and proudly observed, "Now they're that kind of wet!" When his lips approached mine once more I closed my eyes and did we ever kiss. He tickled my tongue with his then took a breather to suckle my earlobes. As my eyes took in the splendor of the scenery around us, I suddenly felt a cool sensation on my chest as he whipped off my floatation vest. He unbuttoned my blouse, reached around behind my back, unhooked my bra then pushed the cups up to let my breasts fall out. At that point he kissed me once more, nuzzled down my neck then began to circle my nipples with his tongue. Doug licked and sucked my teats up ravenously while diddling down below. I felt more coolness between my legs as he stretched the crotch of my panties out of my pussy. When I felt their elastic leg band dig into my outer thigh it told me more serious things were on the way. "Perhaps something better was in the making", I thought so I leaned away from him and laid my back down onto the life preserver that had dropped behind me on the floor. In some kind of involuntary reaction, my thigh muscles then thrust my legs up and out. I felt the cool aluminum gunnels of the canoe radiate into the back of my knees and felt my toes dip into steam water on each side of the canoe as I relaxed. As we drifted along with the slow current I watched seagulls lazily soar in circles high overhead in the pale blue early summer sky. I felt one, two, three then four fingertips push into my hungry vulva. I heard a honking choir of approach from the east then watched them lumber by in their usual V pattern as we drifted under a creosote-smelling trestle. I heard squirrels chatter in the trees overhanging the creek about the time I felt his busy fingers slip out of my pussy. I watched their fluffy tails flick madly in circles as a rasp of whiskers between my inner thighs, hot breaths and a hot wiggly invasion of my vulva told me that for the first time in three months, a real live tongue was about to do me! I felt my lover's tongue thoroughly slurp my vulva then lick up to my clitoris. I tried to see why the squirrels were so alarmed but that flicking, licking, slurping suctioning just made my eyes close dreamily. I heard a horn blow in the distance but paid no attention until the deafening clatter of the VIA express from Montreal abruptly wrenched open my eyes!!! I watched startled faces in the train windows stare at us as the blue and yellow passenger cars rumbled by on the trestle but I just couldn't care less at that moment. I reached down, cradled my Dougie's head in my hands then humped and writhed in a screaming, moaning orgasm just as I noticed the steward! Having a smoke break out on the rear platform of the last coach, he grinned and gave me the thumbs up sign as the train clickety-clacked away!!! Oh my, it was so good to have the man I married back again. I sat up, unzipped him and with more than a little difficulty, extracted his wonderfully erect penis through his fly. It was hard, purple and ready for action but Doug looked a little apprehensive. I said told him to relax and promised to be gentle with him as I began to stroke him. He seemed to have a lot more blood coursing through those veins, for his shaft was hot and red and thick. What to do with him was the quandary, however. I pulled back his foreskin with the fingers of one hand then tickled all over and under his knob to remove any stinky, foul tasting moisture. I licked my lips wet, summoned up a tongue full of spit then smeared my juicy lips down over his corona. I licked quickly like a dog lapping an ice cream cone to neutralize all tastes with my saliva. I tilted my head back a little so his knob slid along the roof of my mouth rather than down the back of my throat. I called upon my salivary glands once more to slime his penis up good then began my sucking head-bob routine. There was no way I was going to spend ten minutes in a canoe, gagging on a throat full of semen, so I sucked him off clean, pulled his foreskin back up and jerked him mercilessly. My gamble was well timed for his face began to flush. I knew I had to get him off quickly and I was already a mess so I just aimed it down at my pubes and stroked like crazy. I pulled the soaking crotch of my panties aside to give him something to think about and wouldn't you know it, thirty seconds later, he lunged ahead, planted it slightly into my pussy then squirted two great pumps of sperm into me plus a third as he was pulling out! He tidied my panties up as he pulled out but gave me one more poke to wipe off his last drip then smiled back at me and uttered the magic words, "No pains! There are no pains whatsoever!" I was so relieved, especially when those deep blue eyes flashed back toward me. "Look at the ducklings behind you babe!" he pointed behind me. I swiveled my head around for a few seconds to have a look and heard his camera click repeatedly as he photographed the dear little things. Since it was a windless day, on our way back Doug zipped by our complex and headed out into a dead calm Lake Ontario. The shimmering green water was amazingly clear, apparently due to the Zebra Muscles. In a bay I suddenly became aware that we were being stalked by, of all things, three-foot long carp fish! The trolling motor made virtually no noise in the water so four or five giant bottom feeders swam along with us for a good mile, breaking the surface occasionally like little dolphins. ----------------------------------------------- A week later, Doug dragged me out to a slip in front of our unit and introduced me to a bright yellow 14-foot fiberglass runabout boat with a 9.9 Johnson motor at the rear. It had a full front deck, two front bucket seats, a steering wheel, controls and a full-length perfectly flat floor, carpeted with brown tweed Astroturf. Through June and July we followed the shoreline from up as far as Pickering and all the way down to Cobourg. Between Bond Head and Port Granby we discovered 100-foot high sandy bluffs whose shapes and grandeur took my breath away. On the way back it occurred to me that no houses were built on the unstable bluffs. No boats except ours came closer than a mile from shore and we were completely, utterly alone, except for the flocks of shore birds. Canada's busiest arterial highway and rail lines lay within half a mile of the shoreline but none of those thousands of travelers had any idea of the beauty and tranquility along the lakeshore. With that in mind, off came my top, my bra, my shorts and my panties as well as Doug's shirt, shorts and briefs. I smeared him with suntan lotion as we bobbed fifty feet offshore. Then he slathered me from head to toe and back again in return. Suddenly that familiar old expression came across his face. He shuffled back toward the idling outboard motor, adjusted its tiller up to a 45-degree angle and exclaimed, "Laura, I'd like to introduce you to Johnson. He's long, thickly ribbed and obviously all abuzz over meeting you!" The dirty old bugger squirted sunscreen along the tiller and spread it all over its handgrip. He reached out for my hand and carefully assisted me over to the jiggling black protuberance. He sized up the possibilities then had me steady my right shin against, while planting my left foot on top of the little rear deck. Just like that I felt the tiller jiggle against my crotch. Doug reached under me from behind, tapped the tiller up a little then firmly guided me down onto it! Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 08 No need to undulate my hips to ease it in. It just wiggled and jiggled its way into me. Simply flexing my left knee impaled me very nicely upon it. Doug revved the motor up for me to no advantage, but putting it into forward gear at a very low idle made the tiller thrash about violently inside my pussy. That settled, he set our course about 100 feet off shore then stepped up behind me. I felt him squeeze his unusually stiff penis between the tiller and my right inner thigh then resumed massaging sunscreen into my breasts. Oh how I wished Louise's locket were on my clit ring that instant. All that jiggling would have sent me into orbit!!! Instead, three minutes of massaging my boobs and vibrating his penis got the motor hood all splattered with his semen! However, another two minutes of my pressing my clit ring against the tiller did earn me such a formidable orgasm that the echoes of my squeals off the bluffs startled an entire flock of cormorants. To see their wings flapping and little webbed feet run madly along the surface of the water sent the pair of us into hysterics! Doug thought sure I'd win the Guinness award for the most startling orgasmic squeal in history, but my reward was seeing that all his equipment was functional once more. --------------------------------------------------- Two days after I finished this entry, I checked for new emails. I found a curious reply from Louise to a message I don't remember sending her, entitled, "Think about what you're missing back here!" All it read was, "I see Doug's feeling better, and I'm very jealous!" I scanned down her short reply to the original note and found a nice photo of Doug and I canoeing past some Canada Geese on the creek. Another showed a Red Winged Blackbird clinging to some bull rushes. A third featured the trees overhanging the creek and a fourth displayed a crotch-eye view of me lying on my back in the canoe, bare-breasted and gazing up into the heavens as my husband ate me out! Two more showed those darling little ducklings, followed by close-ups of my torso, still bare-breasted and legs splayed out over the gunnels. Three escalating images highlighted his sperm oozing disgustingly through the crotch of my poor ravaged panties!! Fourteen pictures of the bluffs along the lake followed, interspersed here and there of me impaled and joyriding on the outboard motor tiller!!! He sneaked pictures of me when I wasn't looking and sent them to my girlfriend!!! What would possess a man to do such a thing? Where is My Pictures? Here they are. Delete! Delete!! Delete!!! What would make him think anyone else would want to see pictures like that of me? Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 09 Dear Dirty Diary, Four weeks had passed since Doug had come home from the hospital. He was still a little pale looking and complained of being cold all the time because of the blood thinners. The night before, he was detached and completely immersed in a Blue Jays baseball game. Early the following morning was gray and rainy and I was feeling quite sorry for myself. Like a fool looking for comfort, I went down into the den, popped in that Lisa Brokop "When I get to be you" CD into the stereo and cranked up the volume. My thoughts were with Louise as I danced around to the first two songs, but then I heard those chirping crickets begin the third song. I heard that simple acoustic guitar riff begin and heard Lisa's haunting voice moan, "Single-sided conversations. Too much time spent all alone. Even though my heart is breaking, you don't even know!" The reverberating thump of the bass drum resonated through my larynx and my eyes welled up with tears, preparing for what I knew was coming. "Today I was thinking about us, what I'd do about you. I was lost in reflection, when I found the truth!" I shivered along to the chorus of, "Can't think of, one reason. Tried to find a way, to make this work. Through trying. And denying. Tired of pretending, I don't hurt." But when I tried to sing along with, "So I've been thinking, maybe my heart's... better off broken!" my throat choked up and shallow breaths quivered up through my chest. I broke down completely as she continued, "Sometimes wishing for an easy way out, but I can't ignore this pain. Made up my mind to get it over with now, cause nothing's going to change!" By the end of the second chorus, I began to wonder if maybe my heart was better off broken. A mandolin solo preceded a reprise of the chorus and by its ending, I was resigned that my heart was indeed, "Better off broken" and it was time to move on . The sentiment of the rest of that CD's songs reinforced my decision. As her last song began, Doug mystically appeared, wrapped his right arm around my back, clenched my left hand in his, pushed his pelvis tight against mine and we dirty danced to "The Land of a Thousand Dances" in perfect harmony. He nibbled my ear, squeezed my butt cheeks, goosed me a time or two and ground his knee up into my crotch throughout the whole song. By the time the song was over he had me all hyper so I made a mad dash up the stairs and zipped into the bathroom. I spun the taps on in the shower, stripped off my nightgown and was in the tepid spray for all of one minute when a fingertip poked the shower curtain into my left buttock. The next thing I knew, he'd pushed the curtain aside a little, slipped in behind me and I felt a hot bigger protuberance rudely slide along the underside of my crotch! His right hand flashed around in front of me and grabbed up my bar of Dove from the soap tray. Doug wet it thoroughly in the spray then soaped up my right breast. About the time the suds began to drip off my nipple, he handed off the soap to his left hand then lathered my left boob up frothy as well. He reached around further, soaped all over down my abdomen then inched back his penis. He smeared the soap down over my pubic mound, flipped the gently curved side of the Dove upward then swiftly worked the bar back and forth along my labia. Immediately after that I felt his even stiffer protuberance slide back in along the hollow of my crotch! But I foiled his ploy by grabbing the showerhead hose and rinsing down all his sudsy delights, creating drag where he wanted lubricity! I spun around and turned the tables on him by soaping him up and down, and forward and back, in return with his Irish Spring. I took delight in foaming his penis till the suds flew, but when his face began to redden, I took even more delight in rinsing him down with considerably colder water than I used on myself! I zipped out of the shower, toweled myself dry and left my shocked, shivering, shriveled husband to whine. By the time he got back to the bedroom I was in the middle of my skin moisturizing routine. He must have had the water pretty hot after I hosed him down, for his skin was quite pink. His penis was also quite pink. In fact it was fat and somewhat erect. He lay back on the bed and watched me rub my baby oil and skin lotion mixture into my legs. My hands were still dripping in oil so I mischievously reached over and wiped the excess all over the pink knob peeking out of his bathrobe. Doug immediately brightened up and like a little kid said, "More please!" I obliged by dribbling a little more lotion down the back of his penis and rubbed that in. His penis had grown erect and bloated by the time the lotion started to soak in. I heard, "More please!" once more so that time I drooled lotion and baby oil together into my palm, pulled back his foreskin tightly with my other hand, then squeezed the slippery oil in, up and down the length of his penis. The next thing I knew, what felt like four slippery fingers, squeezed into my pussy. Unknown to me, Doug lubed up his fingers with lotion and just shoved them all in! I was in total shock for a while but when I felt his old thumb rub my clitoris, I regained my senses. When he stroked his bony fingers in and out, I noticed how silky smooth his skin had become after not working for a month. About the time I was starting to feel real good, I gave him a bunch of strong pumps and saw a little semen dribbled out his urethra. As I kept rubbing and squeezing, spurt after spurt gushed up and mixed with the lotion, making the stickiest, slimiest mess I'd ever touched. It was all over my hands, his belly and pubic hair and I was just loving it. His madly flicking thumb jiggled the my clit ring just right, then I too, felt a most wonderful tremor tear down through my clitoris, rumble back through my vagina, shiver up through my chest and out through my nipples! The second spasm ripped through me and I felt my vulva squeeze down on his hard bony fingers. Being unable to contract excited me more and I felt myself orgasm again. I looked over at Doug, saw semen still drooling from his penis and came once more! My eyes followed his forearm down between my legs and into my pussy and I quivered one last time. Doug's eyes shone much brighter blue than normal as he grinned and whispered, "I guess there's life left in me yet". We cuddled for a few minutes then, out of the nowhere he asked if I'd heard from Louise. I guess I got a little choked up when I told him she was still pestering me to come visit. Doug raised his eyebrows briefly, and then blurted out, "I've been getting cabin fever lately and I really need some fresh air so let's drive up to Quebec for the weekend and have a look around." Butterflies fluttered around in my chest just at the notion. "I see my doctor tomorrow and I'll make sure it's all right to travel," Doug said assuredly. --------------------------------------------------- In less than a week we were admiring the scenery along the eastbound 401. It should have been a nice leisurely trip but somewhere after Kingston, Doug got bored with the scenery. I was reclining back in the front passenger seat, dreaming of Louise. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! I wanted to look nice for her so I wore my little see-through bra under a silky blouse. Sexy thoughts and the cool breeze blowing out of the dash vents made me shiver. Old Nosey at the wheel, must have noticed my nipples perking up. "Nice scenery!" he murmured, then reached over, squeezed my swollen teat and gave it a rough little shake. I ignored this invasion of my privacy but reminisced on how that annoying little gesture originated. I remembered back to our honeymoon trip to the Gaspe and how I foolishly wore a polka-dotted thin nylon halter-top for days. It was hot. The wind would billow it up constantly and tickle my nipples erect for hours at a time. The horny fool must have twisted my left nipple half-off that week. Nearly every vacation since, he's reinstated that stupid tradition and that's probably why my left teat is so much bigger than the right. I took over driving at the first rest stop in hopes that he'd stop. I wanted my nipples rough and ready for Louise, not all tender and sensitive. I settled down, put the van on cruise and nurtured obscene thoughts while Doug dozed. The next thing I knew, I felt a cool finger tickling up the inside of my right thigh. Again, Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! I had worn a new short skirt to show off how thin I'd become on Doug's low-fat diet. I squeezed my legs together so he couldn't get up any further. Foiled, he rummaged through the glove box like a little brat until he found a new yellow pencil. He held it by its unsharpened tip, stared at it a while and then smiled. Doug cleared his throat and began: "One of these caused me to fail grade 11 German. Dorothy Braun sat to the right of me during my final exam. She was a pretty dark haired young thing who had immigrated to Canada when she was ten. She spoke fluent German and was the language teacher's pet. Some of the girls gossiped that he gave her special private tutoring. On that fateful day, she opened her exam and breezed through it in no time. Perhaps to flirt with her favorite teacher, that day she chose to wear a short skirt and a black see-through blouse with a shiny black bra underneath. She must have realized I stared at her breasts throughout the whole period, but I was sixteen, still a virgin and just couldn't help myself." He continued: "She glanced over at me, smiled to herself and opened her pencil case. She took out a new wooden pencil, just like this one and twirled it around with the fingers of her left hand. Dorothy held onto the unsharpened tip like this, then slid her hand down and rested it on her leg, just as I'm doing to you. She spun it around between her legs, and then guided the eraser end up under her skirt, just like this. I watched intently as her fingers poked and prodded the pencil about. I suppose she managed to push her panties aside somehow, like I've done with yours. That done, she twirled the pencil to and fro and back and forth, then started doing long penetrating strokes, much like these. After a few minutes, her fingers pulled the pencil out from between her legs and brought it back up on top of her desk. The eraser end of it was shinny wet, just like this one is now. Dorothy sniffed the tip briefly, the put it into her mouth. She closed her eyes as she sucked her juices off of it. Seconds later, the end of period bell rang. She watched as I struggled out of my desk. I bent over and tried to cover up the bulge in my pants with a notebook but she had already seen. Dorothy glanced up at me, smirked, stood up and strutted out down the hall! Failing that exam messed up my average so bad I had to transfer to a technical school the following year and I never saw her again." All that story telling must have exhausted Doug's sex drive temporarily, for he settled back with his pencil and dozed off in no time at all. However, all that left me with was bunched-up underwear and a wet, hungry pussy. I looked around for something suitable to play with and found an ice scrapper beside my seat. It was a really deluxe one, with an exquisitely ribbed, foam-padded handle. Temporary comfort comes in strange guises sometimes and it looked like it would fill the bill. After I licked the handle juicily, I grasped the blade then felt the thrill of it puncture my pussy. Sexy thoughts of Louise and a full vagina helped the miles pass, but before I could do anything about my secret toy, we were crossing into the U.S.A. at Cornwall. The stop and go traffic towards the border crossing created a frantic situation for me. Every time I moved my right foot from the gas to the brakes, the inside of my thigh pushed hard against the ice scrapper's blade. That shoved it sideways and I felt it split open my vulva. Each time we moved a car length ahead, I felt my pussy got looser and wetter. It was all I could do to stay calm while approaching the Customs Officer. She was an attractive, but bitchy-looking aboriginal Indian, about my age. Suddenly, I wondered if entering the U.S.A. with an ice scraper wedged in my pussy would be justifiable cause for a cavity search. I held my legs together as tight as I could as we rolled up to her kiosk. I rolled down my window and was mesmerized by the most striking black eyes I had ever seen. I looked her right in the eyes and answered all her questions. As she questioned Doug, I took notice of her petite hands. I wondered to myself if she'd be gentle or rough searching my pussy if I lifted up my skirt right then and let her see my little secret. I wiggled my right leg back and forth on the brake pedal for more intense stimulation as he explained our Port Louis shortcut to her. After Doug told her we had nothing to declare, they both looked down at my busy leg. Realizing I suddenly had a real situation on my hands, I blurted out, "I have to pee really bad!" She smiled, pointed out a restroom in a nearby building and wished us a safe trip. Then I had to demurely exit the van, tighten up my pussy muscles so the ice scraper wouldn't fall out and strut to the washroom as they both watched. That was the longest fifty feet I'd ever walked. Back in the van with my scraper washed up and tucked away in my purse, I vowed to be good the rest of the trip. Shortly after we entered the USA we turned east and passed a sign for the Mohawk reserve, St. Regis. I gazed to the north and wondered if my Mohawk princess lived up there. We ate supper in Dundee and were at Louise's door in Port Louis by seven-thirty. My heart pounded as we stepped up onto the front porch of the big old Mansard-roofed house. The front door swung open and there was my sweet Louise. She hugged me tightly for the longest time then whispered, "I can't believe you're really here. Please stay here with me forever." She broke off her embrace and all I could see were those sparkling dark eyes and her intensely erect nipples jutting out. When she helped me off with my sweater, she brushed it across my breasts as she hung it up in the hall closet. My husband just smiled at our matching hard nipples as he handed her his jacket. Louise took my hand and led me past the second floor staircase and down the hall into the kitchen . When Doug stepped into the washroom he noticed, just past the hall closet, I squeezed her hand and whispered back, "I need you so much too." She spun around, stood on tiptoes, grasped my head in her hands and planted a sultry kiss on my lips. Then she dropped her hands down, squeezed my nipples and murmured, "The nipples are ripe but is the pussy wet for me?" I lifted up my skirt with one hand and then stretched out the waistband of my panties so she could check for herself. Her hand pushed down inside my soggy underpants just as the toilet flushed. We pushed away from our embrace, just in time for the door to open. Doug walked out into the kitchen, looked us both over, frowned a little and then asked, "All right, what have you two been up to?" In unison, we both replied, "Nothing!" He raised his eyebrows, said, "You both are blushing a lot for doing nothing," then smiled at us. To change the subject, I told Louise I was ever so curious about the house and asked if she could give us a tour. She graciously walked us through the rest of the big kitchen, showed us the door leading down to the "dungeon". Louise showed us through the dinning room with its huge, eight setting hardwood table then we walked through the wide archway that led to the living room. To the left, along the center wall, she showed us a built-in bookcase and entertainment complex with a big screen TV and stereo sound system that made Doug's mouth water. At the end of the living room we walked through an archway leading back into the front door hallway and second floor staircase. Louise led us upstairs. The center hallway's left doors led to two guest bedrooms. The rooms were pretty much mirror images of each other. They had mirrored-door closets and a shared washroom at the foot of their double beds. Each room had one night table, a built in chest of drawers and a chair by the window. Louise said the second one was brighter, so Doug put our luggage in it. At the end of the hallway, she told us the left door was a linen closet and the right door led upstairs to the attic. On the other side of the hallway, She opened the first door and showed us into her bedroom. It was similar, but opposite to ours, excepting where the chair was in our room, a small hallway led along the outside wall. It passed by a bathroom cabinet set with sink and her small personal toilet stall, into her living room. She told us the attic and basement were works in progress and promised to show us her ideas for them tomorrow in the light of day. Back down in the living room, Louise poured us all some wine to unwind. She insisted that Doug try out the recliner chair. It was a couch commander's dream, with heated seat and back and had five different vibrator patterns to play with. Fifteen minutes of girl-talk, that glass of wine and his eyelids were drooping. I cleared my throat loudly and his eyes popped open. Mr. Mellow looked around and said, "Ladies, I don't know if it's the wine or my medication, but I can't stay awake a minute more." By the time I changed into my pajamas, he was in dreamland. So I tiptoed out and tapped on Louise's bedroom door. It seemed she was expecting me. She pulled me into her room, squashed her little breasts into mine and planted that busy tongue into my mouth once more. When she felt my breaths quicken, she broke off her embrace, then scanned down over my abdomen. Figuring she'd like to continue on where we'd left off, back down in the kitchen, I unbuttoned my top, and then stretched out the waistband of my satin bottoms. She shoved her hand down inside, and then pressed her middle finger firmly against my vulva. After twenty seconds of steady pressure, my muscles relaxed and I felt her finger slide into my little pink cave. We smooched passionately again and in less than a minute, I felt three more tiny fingers join the first. I undid her belt and spread open that familiar judo robe, to find her nipples and clitoris ring were already laced together with her little black glasses cords. I took hold and pulled out where they joined at her waist and led her, as she loved, to her bed with her little leashes. I pulled off my top, tugged down my bottoms and pushed her back onto her bed. I put one knee on the bed beside her, then swung the other leg over so I was on top, in position and ready to give her the thorough tongue-lashing she deserved. I tilted my head down, stuck my tongue out as far as I could and stabbed it right into her wet little vulva. We hungrily licked and slurped each other's pussies for the longest time, but heard a creaking noise from across the hall that perked up my ears. My eyes shot up toward my room and I watched the door slowly creak open, all by itself. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light in our room, I could make out Doug's reflection in our mirrored closet door, looking back at me. Oh my God, my husband had caught me, with my tongue stuck in my girlfriend's pussy! Through my brain rang, "Bad girl, bad girl, we're gonna catch you, Bad girl!" to the tune of the "Cops" TV show theme. For some reason, spreading Louise's vulva and jabbing my tongue back in seemed the most obvious thing to do. As I licked away, that stupid jingle kept playing in my head. Hassling Doug for peeking seemed the next best thing to do, so I lifted my head up, wagged my finger at him and mouthed, "You're bad!" Taken aback, Doug shook his head, pointed his finger directly at me and mouthed back, "No, you're bad!" Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 09 Looking for forgiveness, I looked him straight in the eye and with all possible conviction, mouthed, "I love you!" He nodded, to show what I hoped was his support, so I pleadingly mouthed, "Watch!" As I rolled off Louise, I plucked my trusty KY tube out of my robe's pocket then sprawled back diagonally up from the foot of the bed. I whispered to Louise, "Hey there gynecologist Lady, I've got that itch back again, so don't you think you should check it out?" She raised her eyebrows at my suggestion, then grinned and shook her head when I handed the vaginal lubricant to her. Blood pounded up the back of my neck as I watched her shimmering little hand approach my pussy. Once again, I felt the pleasure of her slim fingers slide into my vulva. I gazed into her eyes and saw the unmistakable look of love. In an instant, I saw love's sparkle change to lust's intensity and felt her thumb squeeze in beside her four fingers. I felt her ever-increasing pressure push the folds of my labia into my vulva, then gasped when her bumpy cluster of fingers started to twist back and forth. As she ground her hand in deeper, I glanced down between my legs and caught my husband's reflection from the next room. I humped my hips a little to loosen up. After a few seconds, I closed my eyes and rolled my head back to the left in passion. A soft vision of that border guard's beautiful black eyes flashed in my brain. My eyes popped open and I was startled by what I saw! The mirrored closet doors at the end of her bed spanned the most of the wall. For some reason my mind perceived the reflections as a voyeur's glimpse into another dimension, much like Alice's Wonderland. I saw a bizarre image of a naked, matured Alice, lying spread-eagled on a bed. Beyond her was a kneeling pixie-like woman, whose reddened face was intensely watching her hand enter Alice's genitals. I looked back at Pixie's arm, saw it slow its gyrations and then saw it push strongly ahead. I felt a searing, stretching pain as I watched her hand sink deeper into Alice's vulva. My eyes shot down between my legs and focused on another looking-glass image. An equally red-faced male voyeur, wearing perhaps a White Rabbit suit was staring back at me. One paw steadied him as he perched on the edge of his bed, while his other paw squeezed his exquisitely bloated penis. I gave Rabbit my sultriest look and began to hump my hips ever so slightly. A few seconds of serious humping against Pixie's steady pressure made my vulva release and instant relief came to me as I felt her hand slide through my vulva, up into the depths of my vagina. Her tiny wrist spreading my vulva was no more uncomfortable than Doug wearing that "penis enhancer" so I relaxed for the ride into Wonderland. I felt Louise's fingers ball into a fist and start to twist back and forth inside me. I looked back at Alice, just in time to see the aureoles of her nipples darken and wrinkle. I watched her teats blush cranberry-red then poke up magnificently erect and bumpy. I reached over to Louise with my left hand, hooked my index finger under her tender bits' cords and pulled. With the fingers of my right hand, I plucked the taut little strings like Leona Boyd tuning her guitar and in no time at all, Louise's teats were tantalizingly tuned up. With Louise now giving me her complete attention, the talented fingers of my right hand pushed up into her instrument. The introduction called for slow, luxuriant strums to warm up and check the instrument's resonance. The melody was a simple two-note flamenco exercise with a fast tempo. My fingers flew, savoring her rich wetness, while the audience marveled at the intensity of the lushly erotic music emanating from her sounding hole. The staccato chorus, primarily a deep tapping sequence on her bumpy little G pad brought renewed excitement from her whenever I played it. My continued re-tuning of her strings eventually convinced Louise to bring this performance to its climax quickly. She bent over, sucked my acorn-hard clitoris, ring and all into her mouth and began to flick it with her tongue like a Jew's harp. I increased my tempo to a fevered pitch, felt her juices puddle in my palm, then dribble down my wrist. I strummed her bottom string with my thumb and felt her crescendo begin. Labored-sounding breaths came from her nostrils then suddenly she spat out my clit and pulled out her hand. She raised bolt upright and grasped her nipples as the rigors of orgasm surged through her!!! While she was catching her breath, I noticed the inside of my pussy felt quite cool, so I glanced down between my legs. The White Rabbit wore a most curious look of amazement on his face. Confused by his expression, I looked over to my left to see what that slut Alice was up to. She flopped down the leg between us so I could share in what the rabbit saw. Her vulva was obscenely dilated, allowing me to see right up into her vagina. As well I saw what looked like a huge garbanzo bean, strung on a gold ring, strained out from under the hood of her labia. Alice stretched her lower arm tightly down her side and reached for her own pussy. With glazed eyes, Alice taunted me as she diddled the flashing golden hoop. I watched for a while, then closed my eyes so I could concentrate on what I felt, not what I saw. I should have kept my eyes wide open!!! In the darkness, my mind played me back one more chorus of "Bad Girl, Bad Girl" In my mind's eye, I envisioned an orchestra-conductor signal the end of the song with a rather bulky baton. The maestro turned to me, bowed to acknowledge my performance, then rose to face me. I instantly recognized the face of St. Regis, the border guard. She smiled oddly as she walked towards me. Instead of shaking my hand, she brought up her baton, which was actually a police riot stick and shoved its hard, leather-covered shaft all the way into my pussy! My orgasm came instantaneously, leaving me quivering and moaning like a porn star. --------------------------------------------------------- We cuddled briefly to calm down from our climaxes. We kissed and whispered sweet talk back and forth, but when she asked me to stay the night, I had to say no. I explained that if Doug awoke alone in a strange bedroom, he might not be too pleased. I told Louise to be patient and promised her we'd have lots of opportunities later as I put my pajamas and robe back on. After a quick pee, my rubber legs wobbled me back to my room. Damn, Doug was still awake. Shakily, I draped my robe across the chair and crawled back into our bed. He immediately whispered, "Laura, you can hardly walk, are you all right?" I reminded him I always have wobbly legs after a real good workout. "How long will your pussy take to recover from all that stretching?" he asked with surprising concern. I told him I was tough and would be fine in no time, but for the moment, I was "loose as a goose". "And how loose can a goose be?" he asked with questionable intent. My hand crept over and brushed against a very fat penis poking out of his pajama bottom's fly. "Would it be too tender for this goose to take a gander?" he questioned. I whispered back, "I think you want more than to take a gander, I think you want to goose the gander, don't you?" Doug took on an odd little smile and his eyes swirled with anticipation. I flipped the covers off and he pulled off my pajama top. I raised my hips and watched him pull down my bottoms. After he unraveled them from my feet, I saw that Alice had made her way into the mirror doors at the foot of our bed. I saw the White Rabbit crawl into bed and lay beside her. He nudged her closest leg up, slid in close to her and poked his penis against her labia. Weary of watching that slut Alice, I closed my eyes and felt the heat of Doug's penis warm my aching vulva, but for the first time there was no rush of muscle release as it slid in. I felt smooth, unobstructed luxury as it tunneled deeper. I felt steady pressure against my pubes and heat radiate through my vulva as my husband pushed but it occurred to me that I felt no searing sensations throughout of my vulva. I finally had to acknowledge his preoccupations with his penis, for Doug, indeed felt small. I couldn't help but think that adage should be changed to "Size doesn't matter, until you've felt really big!" As he stroked away, I realized how little I really felt. I wondered if impaling myself daily on my exercise bike, at sixty pumps a minute might have permanently stretched my vulva. Afraid he'd want to really get at it, make a whole bunch of noise and then find out he couldn't cum because I was so loose, I whispered that I was kind of sore and suggested to old Hard-on that if he'd pull it out and lie back, I'd give him a treat. There was a box of Kleenex in the headboard, but I knew he just loved me jerking him off into my panties. The elastic by their crotch was pretty crusty from our little driving games that afternoon, so I carefully draped their clean front panel over his fat little penis. I sat myself up comfortably beside him so I could stroke him with gusto and get it over with quickly. I wrapped my fingers loosely around his penis and stroked the silky nylon up and down its shaft. I pulled down hard, squeezed back up lightly so the material caught under his foreskin and then jerked ferociously. Doug watched my hand with great intensity as it blurred up and down, but he didn't cum right away. I was hoping he would be satisfied with just being done his favorite way, but no, up the inside of my thigh tickled his fingertips. I spread my legs so he could have a little play. Not bothering with any preliminaries, he clustered all four fingertips, wet them in his mouth and just poked them right in! He swirled his big thick fingers a bit to juice me up and did they ever feel good. I tried my best to maintain my stroking, but he was pushing just like Louise!!! I summoned up all the saliva I could, spit it on my fingertips and then spread it all over his fingers. He pressed me, I pumped him and just like that, I felt his hand push in up to his thumb. Suddenly, I swore I felt his big thumb tuck into my pussy too. I'd never been so excited in my life! I shivered and quivered, then relaxed my pussy as best I could. I wasn't sure that was enough to let him in, so I thought of Mr. Satisfaction. Twenty years ago, I saw a creepy little carnie running the Tilt-O-Whirl at the county fair. He was short, skinny, had long stringy hair and no left hand whatsoever. Like the sixteen-year old girl in front of me, I couldn't help but stare at his smoothly pointed stump. "Mr. Satisfaction?" she said, reading out loud the tattoo running up his forearm, "Why you're nothing but a slimy little freak!" The carnie held up his arm for her to see and said, "Twenty years from now, when you can't feel your husband's dick anymore because your pissy little cunt's gotten all sloppy from having one too many babies, you'll wish you'd gotten to know me better! Fuckin' doesn't get any better than this and if your mother saw this arm, she'd be crawlin' all over me!" I remembered the red-faced girl hustling away. I remembered wondering how many loose pussies he'd really had his scrawny little forearm up rammed up, I remembered noticing his powerful left bicep and I realized the image of that got me just as wet as it did twenty years ago. I hadn't the courage to get to know Mr. Satisfaction either, but I did have a husband with an even thicker hand and I was ready for it! At that exact second, he moaned suddenly and I felt hot semen squishing between my fingers. I didn't know whether I was more disappointed that he stopped or relieved that he did. When Doug's breathing returned to normal, he cleared his throat softly and whispered, "You really thought I was going to try to fist you, didn't you?" My silent blush gave him his answer. "You silly woman, if through some miracle my hand had gone in, it would have ruined you for life!" he continued. My pulse was still quick and the blood pounded up the back of neck. I accepted that my mind was hopelessly addicted to the thrill of putting my body through some dirty new adventure, but letting him shut out my opportunity to achieve that last fantasy was more than I could bear. Doug's rule always was, "If it feels good, it's not perverted!" What I craved might have turned out to be perverted, but I needed to find that out for myself! To ensure another opportunity, I blurted out, "On the contrary, I survived several internal exams by Dr. Loo, that pediatrician who delivered Michael twenty years ago and was neither excited nor in love with him." When he sleepily said, "Perhaps another time then," my heart skipped a beat! --------------------------------------------------------- The sun shone softly onto my face. Pulling the sheets over my head did little to shield my eyes. The clock beside me read 8:15 but I wanted to sleep more. Creaking steps from across the hall told me Louise was up and about, so I begrudgingly flipped off my covers, donned my robe and followed her downstairs. We drank coffee and chattered for three quarters of an hour or better until Doug sauntered into the kitchen. He was clean-shaven, dressed and said he was "ready to rip". During breakfast, Louise spoke of additional alterations her architect had suggested for the house. She pointed to a door on the back wall of the kitchen and explained she wanted to convert the old back porch into a nice solarium and sun deck. She led us downstairs after breakfast and showed us how she planned to make half the basement into an exercise and games room, enclose the furnace and water heater, and use the other side for storage and a workshop. Under the stairs was an antique Simplicity wringer washer, still hooked up. Horrified, Doug yanked the plug and told Louise it was a miracle it hadn't shorted out and burned down the house! Louise plugged it back in and said, "I'll have you know its in fine working condition." She flicked it on and sure enough, the wringer spun and the agitator rotated to and fro. Doug stood mesmerized, staring at the agitator's gyrations and then whispered to me, "I'll bet if you lube up that knurled knob at the top of the agitator with KY jelly, climb up on the tub and press your pussy down against the knob then turn it on, it'll give you a better ride than those mechanical bulls we saw in Texas!" That got him a good punch in the shoulder for being so gross. Louise continued her tour and led us upstairs to the attic. Her house's high Mansard roof housed a large open loft. In the center of each roof side was a large six-foot by six-foot window with a little peak over top. Every window gave a fantastic view of the village. To the west, east and south, there were mature trees, quiet streets and stately homes, but to the north was a breathtaking panorama of the Lac St. Franciose. She pulled some architectural drawings out and showed us plans for an additional apartment. The open-concept design showed a glass corner shower and toilet stall backing against the large chimney in the center of the apartment. A small dining room table sat next to the west window. Storage closets were wrapped around the southwest corner over to the stairwell. Chests of drawers flanked a corner clothes closet in the northeast corner. The king size bed's headboard sat between two support posts and its foot faced the north window. A matching corner clothes closet and bureaus theme wrapped around the northwest corner. A three-seat recliner sofa by the chimney faced the beautiful west window, while an entertainment center and kitchenette wrapped around the southwest corner, back to the south window. Louise's dark eyes searched back and forth between us for answers after she blurted out, "Do you think a couple like you two would be comfortable in an apartment like this?" Doug walked over to the north window once more, stared out for the longest time and then muttered, "There's no sailboats." I didn't know what to say but after considerable silence, Doug turned and began: "The truth is, Laura has had a really rough time since your move here, Louise. She lives in a private world much of the time, daydreaming, presumably of you. I've kept my petty jealousies under control because Laura frequently reflects back the sexual exuberance you've kindled in her. However, I've noticed her sparkle has dramatically dulled since you've been gone. I need Laura, you need Laura and Laura needs both of us, so the answer is quite simple. Baring any huge cultural differences in living here in Quebec, I think we could all be happy here together." Not wanting to seem too anxious, I tried my best to bring up a few more negative thoughts, but they were quickly overshadowed by the realization that back home and retired, with little to do, Doug would drive me crazy. I reminded him it might not be that easy to leave our home, our children and our lives behind, to which he replied, "Perhaps then, a trial period of say a year, might be a good idea," and then added, "If you're sure the neighbors could live with it, if they found out about our little secret, I think we should seal the deal." As we had a group hug, Louise suddenly exclaimed, "That's absolutely perfect, Our Little Secret is what we'll call the business!" In the next breath she continued, "I'll get a sign made for the front lawn and put brochures in the malls and we'll need an Hotmail address in that name." Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 10 Dear Dirty Diary, Over the rest of the visit, Louise and I wandered through the shops down in Huntingdon while Doug explored the area. He seemed infatuated with Lake St. Francis, I suppose because it was reminiscent of Lake Ontario. On our drive back home, he behaved himself admirably, deep in thought. By the end of the following week, he informed me everything was under control. The conniving old fool had talked our kids into moving into the Marina condo for the year. Erin had an opportunity for a good job with GM and Michael would be graduated from university and entering the work force after the New Year. When Louise confirmed she'd set up as an email address, I realized our lives had shifted to a new plateau. Doug studied Louise's plans for our apartment and came to the conclusion all we really needed were our personal possessions and clothes, plus some furniture. Since the doctor suggested that the head of our bed be raised to help his condition, Doug decided to leave the waterbed behind and build a new bed himself for the apartment. He labored lovingly much of September, on building his king-sized captain's bed. However, all of that sawing and sanding left many little cuts and sliver rips on his soft hands. Every time he touched my tender bits, his fingers felt like poker-hot sandpaper sticks. Hand crème soothed his skin, but did little to cool down his touch. Sorting through old keepsakes one day, I found my wedding dress. In a little plastic bag were my bridal veil, stockings, a spare garter, silky French-cut panties plus my sheer white nylon gloves. I decided for Doug that he needed a break from sanding the headboard, so I undressed and laid out my bridal accessories. I put on the gloves first so that I couldn't catch a run in my nylons and tugged them on. I still loved the sensual thrill of nylon stockings shivering up my legs, but with the gloves on, I couldn't feel the roughness of my nails or the heat from my fingers on my legs. My fingers felt cool and detached, almost like someone else was dressing me. I stepped into and slid up my shiny white panties. Then for the first time in twenty-six years, I felt a lacy garter squeeze up my thigh. As I smoothed out the wrinkles on my veil, dabbed some of Doug's favorite perfume in the usual places and called down to him. . Surprisingly, he was at the bedroom door in no time. He was puffing a bit from climbing all those stairs, but his eyes were sparkling in wonderment at the vision of his blushing bride. He was smitten by the time my perfume hooked into his nostrils. Entranced by my seductive spell, his eyes burned over every inch of my body, as he walked slowly toward me. I held out one hand like a crossing guard, stopped him in his tracks and told him, "Not with those rough hands, Buster!" I pulled off my left glove, guided it onto his scratchy fingers and stretched it halfway up his big palm. His expression was priceless but when I unbuttoned his shirt and tugged down his track pants, he was dumbstruck. However, when my trousseau-gloved fingertips glided across his chest, around his nipples and tickled down his belly, he shivered in delight. When he felt my silken fingers slip down into his under shorts and swirl all over his half-aroused penis, he immediately got the message. Backing up, I enticed him along by ever so lightly kneading his penis. When my calves bumped into something behind me, my knees buckled and I fell right back into bed. Doug was laying beside me in an instant, polishing my breasts and coolly tickling my nipples blush pink with my glove. I saw his wide-open mouth lunge toward my left nipple and felt his cheeks suction my aureole between his teeth. As his teeth clamped tighter and tighter on the base of my teat, my clit tingled. I felt his quick, cool swirl shiver around my right nipple and then whisk up my neck to my ear lobe. It swept back down my chest and then gave my swollen teat a silken little twist. Next, I felt his fingertips fan down my belly, slip right under my panties' waistband and scoot over my pubes. As I polished his corona shiny and purple, he went right in for the kill! I felt one fingertip plow right down through my furrow, then press firmly into my pussy. Ten seconds of steady pressure relaxed my vulva and I felt the silkiness sink into my little well. I felt a few raspy double-finger swishes froth me up and I quivered in delight as he mopped pussy juice up to my anxious little clitoris. Three or four more trips to the well had my clit slippery, slimy and screaming for salvation I pushed those sweltering hot nylon French panties down around my thighs, dragged Doug over and under me by his penis and lifted my left leg up as far as my stretched underpants would allow. He squeezed under me and I felt it push against my vulva. There's no thrill in life like feeling a hot dry penis sear into one's tight but juicy pussy. With a few pumps and a few humps I was loose and ready for action. Somehow sensing exactly what would light my fire, he slipped his gloved hand under my raised leg to give me the old double poke. He pulled his penis back out of the way briefly, and I felt that stiff old index finger slide in. It swished around inside, sopping up all the juice it could find, then pulled out and smeared it all over my right nipple! He seared his penis back in again, stroked me juicy again and then pulled out for another poke. The perfume of pussy was overwhelming as he spread my vaginal fluid all over my other nipple. He shoved back into me and pumped me creamy once more. Then Doug reached up, grabbed my right hand and dragged it down across my pubes. He guided my index finger with his and pressed it into my pussy beside his penis, then sloshed it around inside as he pumped. I questioned the perversity of his newest unnatural intrusion but feeling his penis thrust away up inside me while our fingers mucked made me feel so wicked. Doug shoved our fingers in deep during an outstroke, then immediately thrust his penis back in. My shocked vagina squawked in protest for three agonizing strokes, then he mercifully withdrew both our fingers to end my pussy stretch. He guided my hand back up but when he noticed an obscenely gooey white vaginal discharge on my finger, he gathered some of it on his fingertip, licked some of it off with his tongue and then carried the rest down to my clit. As his finger rubbed my secretion over my clitoris, I closed my eyes and sucked the remnants off my finger. God only knows what it was but it surely must have been the true essence of lust. Doug pushed his penis in as far as it would go and continued tickling the tip of my clit raw with his scratchy thumb. I was really tender and wanted to cum with the taste of lust fresh on my tongue, so I asked him if he was close. "Pretty soon," which really meant god knows how long, came from his lips as he ravaged my clit. I pushed his fingers away before he turned me right off, reached around and grabbed my trusty hand vibrator. Between the tangle of arms, legs and my knickers, I maneuvered it down and found my clitoris. It felt so good, but something was missing. I slid it down a fraction, so the top edge of the knob shook the underside of my clit, while its bottom side rested on Doug's penis. I knew from experience this would speed his ejaculation. I moaned for effect, but with each thrust, the inside of his thigh plowed the vibrator down my slit. On one stroke, he drew back too far and his penis slipped out. The vibrator's head dropped for a second and must have caught that hyper sensitive spot on the back of his corona. The next thing I knew, I could feel hot semen spurting out all over everywhere! It was all over my slit, all over my clit and was running down the crack of my bum. It was all over my fingers, all over the vibrator and halfway up my belly. I was all splattered up and it felt absolutely wonderful! Doug pushed his still-pulsing penis back into me in time for me to feel one last pump gush deep in my vagina. I planted the vibrator tight against my clit to finish myself off as he began to shrivel. However, the vibrations traveled through to him and it began to grow again. That amused me. But when he began to stroke again, that excited me! Doug must have seen my chest begin to flush and my nipples start to swell. My wave crested the second he reached over and grasped both my teats! My wave crashed into foam as I squeezed down hard on his fat penis! I let Doug bask in his afterglow while I tidied myself up. Post-orgasmic reality crept in as his milt dribbled out of me into the toilet bowl. When I surveyed the mess I was in, I found that cooling sticky semen was splattered all over my pubes and down the insides of my thighs. What was so exciting four minutes before, now seemed so gross. I stared down between my ankles at my pristine panties and saw them all soaked with spent sperm. As my formerly innocent undies soaked with Zero in the sink, I stepped into the shower. Lots of soap and a thorough rinse made me feel squeaky clean and virtuous for a change. As my husband watched me dress, I asked him if he was 100% sure about moving to Quebec, just to satisfy my current cravings. "If I thought living the rest of your life with a self-righteous motherhood complex were good for you, I'd question our direction," he replied. "However," he continued, "I have witnessed and read in your diary of a transition no man in his right mind would wish to reverse." Doug grabbed me by the shoulders, turned me to the mirror and said: "Look at you. Your lust and passion has made you a goddess in my eyes. Don't ever have second thoughts on enjoying Louise or that beautiful body you've been out of touch with for so many years. Without your lust, those tender bits of yours will shrivel up and die. And that would be a crying shame!" In return, I asked him if this life we were entering might be one he could feel good about. "Laura, in case you haven't realized, I've had more erections in the last year than the previous twenty combined and I'm hoping this is a trend that will continue," my husband stated with conviction. When I asked him if helping me stay hopelessly addicted to pleasuring my body was to be his main goal in retirement, he nodded and said, "I don't know if letting me watch you make out with Louise that night was the easiest thing on my poor old heart, but I'm sure watching you work out on that old exercise bike of yours would be excellent therapy." This request was clearly, yet another invasion of my privacy and I wanted to punch him in the gut for being such a voyeur. But I remembered how liberal and supportive he'd been lately and settled for an icily noncommittal, "We'll see." ------------------------------------------------------ Dear Dirty Diary, A week had passed and Doug announced the completion of our new bed. I checked out all its clothing drawers, the sliding compartments in the headboard and its bed linen bin at its foot. I ran my fingers all over its satin-finished pine and had to admit it was really handsome. My husband had done a beautiful job, but I was concerned with how we'd transport it to Quebec. He told me it was all assembled with deck screws and could be easily broken down into pieces. He said the drawers, filled with all our clothing and bedding could be stacked on top of the framework pieces. He assured me that we could get all our basic necessities to Quebec in our van on the first trip. In less than twenty minutes he had it completely apart and stacked on the floor to prove his point. I had to admit, I was pleased. But I wasn't impressed with the mess he'd made of my workout room. We swept clean and dusted for two hours to make it usable again. As I put away my cleaning stuff, he promised to get my exercise equipment back out of the utility room. After a few minutes, he yelled up to me that he had to get some steel brackets at the hardware store and I heard the entrance door slam. In seconds, I was skipping down the stairs with my personal workout kit in my hand. With him home all the time, opportunities for a good thorough workout had been out of the question for weeks. I was giddy with excitement as I whipped off my clothes. I opened my kit, grabbed my essentials and headed toward my exercise bike. Just as I noticed what appeared to be a truck mirror attached to its handlebars, the utility room door opened and Doug said, "As you can see, I've taken the liberty to make a few improvements on your bike." There I stood in utter shock. I was bare-naked, holding a wrench in one hand, a tube of KY in the other, with my ugly penis sheath chomped between my teeth! Doug smiled broadly at what I assumed was my classic "Deer in the Headlights" expression of terror, then resumed, " I kind of feel like that Q guy in the old James Bond flicks, explaining all I've done." He took the wrench from my hand and said, "An adjustment wrench is no longer necessary." and took the spongy dildo from my mouth. Out of his back pocket he produced a large knobbed, coarsely ribbed, dark brown dildo. He peeled off my gel seat cover and directed my attention to the now smoothly trimmed hole in the top of my seat. As he reached into the opening, he continued: "If you turn this plastic soft drink cap counter-clockwise, you'll see this stiff coil spring it's epoxy-glued to, thread up from inside the seat post. After reading of your aggressive exercise program in you diary, I've been terrified you might slip and really injure yourself on that hard pipe, so I've installed this firm, but flexible spring to protect you from harm. As you can see, it can be adjusted to any height you feel comfortable with." "Q" twirled the spring up about five inches above the seat and then pushed a small steel pin through a tiny hole under the seat, to lock it in place. He wound the hollow dildo down over the spring, well through the hole in my seat, took my KY from me and spread some all over my new Johnston. "I installed this truck mirror at this exact spot on your handlebars, knowing you like to keep your eye on things. Now you can enjoy an up close and personal view of your progress," he pointed out as he helped me up onto the pedals. Q squeezed more KY out and spread some up into my pussy. With growingly annoying zeal, he finished, "Let me sit down underneath you, here on the floor, so I can watch your pussy do the new Johnston workout." I was about to tell him to stuff Johnston up his own ass for meddling in my fun, but in his own asinine way, I suppose he thought he'd done well. With great misgivings, I lowered myself down ever so carefully. When I felt its surprisingly warm tip touch my crotch, I glanced down into his mirror. The firm brown dildo sported a formidable mushroom cap-like corona atop its roughly hewn tapered shaft. Oh my, he certainly was right about my weakness. Doubly blessed, I felt my vulva split and for the first time, watched that beautiful rubber probe slowly disappear into my pussy. The instant my bum touched down on the seat, I threw caution to the wind and started. For old time's sake, I stood up on the pedals and started to pump. Q's jaw dropped open as I ever so slowly, began to pump, so I glanced over into the mirror to see what Miss Moneypenny's pussy looked like. As her body lifted, the dildo would pull out her vulva like a stretched pink rubber grommet. As her body fell, the dildo would jamb her lips back up into her pussy. One pump at a time, the image appeared fluid in motion, but as the pumps sped up, what I saw seemed kind of mechanical, like an antique steam engine in an old ship. Moneypenny's pussy looked so alive and flexible when she went slowly, but that's not what workouts are all about. My eyes lifted and I looked straight ahead. I pumped and bobbed with concentration and conviction and felt that sumptuous brown dildo piston through my pussy. I felt my labia's hood jerk down on my clitoris on each push down and felt my lips flip out with each pull up. The staccato rhythm of my pussy slurps began to release endorphins and for a while I thought I'd found my Nirvana. The rush gave me stamina and boundless energy, but when the five-minute timer dinged, I lost all concentration. I glanced down at my husband and saw his red face. Like Muhammad Ali, my wandering mind began to rhyme as I pumped and bobbed. "I watch as your eyes, stare between my thighs, as my pussy free-falls, and is impaled." flowed out smooth as silk from the recesses of my mind. I pumped for what seemed ages, then, "I moan lusty cries, and watch your dick rise, just aching to be jerked and flailed." completed the verse. I ran it over and over, but my concentration was done. In desperation, I slowed my pedaling to a crawl and recited my poem out loud. Doug looked up in wonderment as I lifted myself up off Johnston and climbed down from the bike. I couldn't hope to concentrate with him looking ripe for a stroke or another heart attack, so I grabbed the KY and some tissues. Straddling his outstretched legs, I kneeled down in front of him, tugged down his track pants and slimed his penis with lubricant. I gripped it with both hands like it was my favorite putter and then squeezed up and down its shaft. With my intertwined fingers clutching tight, I jerked and flailed his foreskin frothy with vaginal lubricant. Even his forehead blushed red so I asked him if he felt pain and needed some nitroglycerine spray. He shook his head No, but my anxiety continued until I felt hot fingers squeeze between my thighs and squish up into my pussy. Content that his fingers were wet and mucking in me, I felt hot liquid spurt onto my wrist without any warning. I cupped my fingers over the end of it to block his squirts, but without the tissues on the floor, it was hopeless. Old Red Face's semen gushed in my hands and between the KY and his cum, my fingers were dripping in goop. Less than erotic notions filled up my head as I cradled his ooze in my hands. Watching semen spurt excited me immensely, but two palm-fills of it was disgusting. He'd ruined my PRIVATE workout and I was really perturbed. If I could have gotten to the kitchen that instant, he would have been sipping a special new creamer in his afternoon coffee! I did the only thing a girl could do. I wiped all the sperm I could in his pubic hairs. Make a mess of me, would he! Within a week, we our van was loaded, we said our goodbyes to our children and we were on the road to Quebec. The drive was kind of sad, however. It was two weeks before Labor Day and we were venturing into the fall of our years. Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 11 Dear Dirty Diary, I woke up the following Saturday morning with a terribly stiff back. Doug and Louise were already working on the enclosure for the hot tub we all missed so much. Since neither of my lovers was around to soothe my aching muscles, I had to look after myself. I stretched and limbered up without much success, so I took a hot shower then returned to try my special back exercises. I spread my bath towel across the middle of the bed then kneeled on it. I bent over, placed my hands flatly on the mattress. I crept up with my knees to curve my spine back as tightly as I could, closed my eyes and held my position until the pain faded away. After a few minutes, I pushed myself up off my elbows then did several rolling crouches forward and back to finish loosening up my lower back. The harder I pushed, the more I felt my breasts sway forward and back, so I peeked over into my vanity mirror to see what they looked like. As I pitched back and forth, I studied the dynamics of my body in motion. When I crouched back, my hanging globes would surge forward then thrust apart slightly. When I rolled forward, my dangling boobs would swing back and thump against my ribs and when I over-compressed a squat, I could feel my bum touch down on my heels. After a few minutes of observation, I noticed an exploitable pattern of body motion. I put on my robe and slippers and zipped down to Louise's in search of some items in her toy bag. I quickly returned with two pairs of eyeglasses cords, a nipple sucker and her long, wide-flanged base dildo. I slipped off my bathrobe, attached one end of each cord to my clit ring. Devilishly delightful thoughts swept through my brain as I tickled my button fat with excitement. I tickled a nipple then sucked it up with the bulb. Then I popped the sucker off and snared my doubly bloated teat with the glasses cord before it could shrink back down. I repeated the procedure on my other nipple with the second cord. I climbed back into bed, sat cross-legged and I tickled my favorite tender bit nicely erect. Trembling with anticipation, I KY-lubed Louise's dildo, worked its knob just into my vagina then squatted down so its suction cup base dangled between my heels. I squeezed my heels together to grasp the dildo then let myself drop gently upon it. I felt the exaggerated folds of the foreskin washboard through my vulva. I bent over, touched my palms down on the mattress then crouched tightly back into my exercise position. Slowly at first, I surged back and forth on the dildo and when I loosened enough to slurp, I picked up the pace. The harder I thrust, the further my boobs swayed, but what I envisioned just wasn't happening. I tied a small knot in each cord then tried again. By the third try, I could feel that the cords were in perfect tautness and I realized the reward I was seeking. Each time I crouched back down on the dildo, my boobs slapped against my rib cage and each time I lurched ahead up on the dildo, my breasts heaved ahead, pulled the cords taut and tugged my little ring. The sensations were so heavenly perfect and easy to achieve. Lurch backwards and pussy gets stuffed! Lunge ahead and tender bit gets jerked! In ten or eleven rocks, I had my bodily momentum perfectly synchronized. Ever the wide-eyed voyeur, I watched the perfection of it all. The slap of my breasts, the slurps of my pussy and this snorts from my nostrils all combined to make music to the ears of this horny housewife. Nine or ten minutes of the best exercise ever created left me with flushed cheeks and chest as I reached my crescendo! I was loose in the joints, loose in the pussy and ready to cut loose in the hot tub. I longed for those effervescent bubbles to tickle up the undersides of my floating breasts once more. To feel the pulsating power of the jets pummel my pussy into orgasm after orgasm like they did at the Marina was just the incentive I needed to get me into my work clothes and back down working in the basement. We had beautiful sea-foam green flooring laid on the playroom floor. We had my exercise-bike room walls dry-walled and painted. Louise had just finished installing wardrobe mirrors on the head and both sidewalls of my private little workout domain as well as behind the hot tub. All that was really left was to finish the wiring and plumbing then install the plastic vapor-barrier wall Doug had constructed. Be calm, my tingling pussy. Just a few more days and your exquisite abuse will return, my love. In the days that followed we finished off the recreation room. During our celebratory dinner together, we agreed that Amy and Michelle's visit suggested other girlfriends out there might enjoy our house. We decided to advertise in lesbian magazines to entice readers who live within a five-hour drive of the house. We concluded that a catch phrase to publicize our lifestyle should be within the ad. Doug, of all people, rhymed out loud: Girlfriends in love? Curious and Alone? Our Secret's this haven, where you'll feel at home. Simple and right to the point, we placed his motto in every ad, just above the phone number. --------------------------------------------------------- The week after the hot tub was commissioned into service, the three of us agreed that we should have an Open House to announce the official opening of Our Little Secret. Louise invited the local Business Women's Association, the local Press, the Better Business Bureau and all her old girlfriends and school chums from Philipsburg. After the departure of all the business people in the late afternoon, we three were left with a dozen or so women, who weren't at all anxious to go home. Congratulatory wine bottles were opened, pizzas were delivered, toasts were made and card games were started. Euchre was the game of choice and four tables of cackling women had poor Doug's head in a spin. He kept their glasses topped up and their tummies full of pastries and chocolate as the party raged on. In between hands, Louise offered a special tour of the basement playroom to whoever was interested. Like a Girl Guides leader, Louise led the entire group of delightfully tipsy women downstairs. Doug showed off his carpentry, Louise showed off her dance floor, with its mirrored ceiling ball and powerful sound system, and I showed off our brand new two passenger hot tub. In less than five minutes, two of Louise's friends had stripped down to their underwear and were lounging in the hot frothy bubbles. Except for one little dear who wandered into my workout bike room, the other women were all dancing the "Hustle." Once inside, Sophie lifted her skirts and was pedaling merrily to the music. About the time the music stopped, her face became flushed and she appeared a little woozy. Doug offered to help her down off my bike to give her some fresh air. As she dismounted, a loud rattle noise rang out, and out of my bicycle seat, that shimmering wet spring-mounted dildo of Q's whipped back and forth. First there was a hush of concern as the way was cleared for wobbly-legged Sophie. But jouncing back and forth, the dildo beaconed all that saw it like a giant index finger welcoming them in. First one, then another entered my inner sanctum. Some squeezed Doug's contribution to my exercise routine, some slapped it back and forth, one bent down and sniffed it, but on a whole, the most of Louise's friends just raised their eyebrows a little then smiled knowingly to each other and filed back upstairs. Eventually returning upstairs, I found everyone embroiled in fevered conversation. The spokeswoman for the group suddenly said, "We're all agreed then?" The women all nodded in accord and she continued, "We, the Richelieu River Pirates Women's Support Group, give our blessing to Louise's new endeavor and welcome Louise's special friend Laura into our fold. We hereby submit that a weekly get together and games night be initiated and held here each week. We feel that our association could prosper within this grand old house and feel that our lives could all be enriched by the inventiveness of its unique staff." All faces looked to Louise for a reply. I suppose the smiles on Doug's and my faces helped her answer come quickly. With a mock stern expression, Louise began, "We have a business to run here and I don't want all your foolishness annoying the paying guests, so I guess we'll have to make it a mid-week ritual then." From then on, every Wednesday night thirteen women arrived at 7 pm for a hen party beyond all rhyme and reason. Everyone brought wine, goodies gossip and their libidos to the card tables. About 8:30, Sophie (who always arranged to be the odd player sitting out), quietly went down towards the washroom. The card playing continued without her, but during any hush in the raucous conversations, the clickety-click of my exercise bike echoed up though an old air grille in the corner of the dinning room. We listened intently during each lull and as the room grew quieter, unmistakably lewd squishy sound and the pants of impassioned breathing came from below. Poor Doug! After about ten minutes of fevered pants, whimpers and moans I'd send him down to make sure she was OK. Returning back to the dining room, wobbly-legged and blushing madly, she unabashedly would announce to the next low-scoring that the bike was all warmed up and ready for action. Excellent players would deliberately blow an entire game to ensure their fifteen minutes on the bike. During refreshment breaks, talk would often center on riding and breathing. As the weeks went by, small talk lessened and ears craned to interpret each exerciser's unique bodily sounds. Between hands, critiques and technical suggestions were issued to improve upon rider's performance skills. For a while I was concerned over my husband's feelings about having horny drunken women invading his domain each week, but he adapted quickly to the situation. Rather than hiding up in our apartment, he made our games night into his Jacuzzi night so he would be close by to anyone needing assistance. He became so helpful he was given honorary membership in the Richelieu River Pirates support group. I thought this novel and cute, but when he offered to adjust the handlebars crotch mirror for each of the ladies, I got more than a little concerned. I knew damned well that he loved every minute of it. --------------------------------------------------- Dear Dirty Diary, . Louise advertised in Cornwall, Messina, Montreal, Plattsburg and Burlington newspapers and had brochures printed for the Cornwall travel bureau and outlet malls. Erin and Michael suggested they should put adds in This Week back home to draw people we knew down for visits. Within days of their ad, I received a request for lodgings in my own email address for the third weekend in September from some Whitby people. Given directions for our shortcut through the States, two weary twenty-something women arrived at our door shortly after lunch. We tried to contain our excitement as Louise welcomed our very first guests. Louise registered Amy and Michelle (of the same last name) and showed them the guest rooms. The sisters chose the first room because they thought it might be quieter. An hour or so later, they came down to the kitchen more refreshed appearing and asked for some coffee. While I perked some, Louise gave them a tour of the main floor. Doug followed his nose down to the freshly brewed coffee, where Louise introduced he and I to our guests. As we sipped together at the dining room table, the two young women peeked at us frequently and whispered back and forth. They nodded eventually, complimented Louise on her coffee and then asked for refills. Amy nudged Michelle impatiently until she looked directly at me and began, "You're not quite like we pictured you to be. You're thinner and softer looking than I pictured you. Amy figured Louise would be butchier than she is and we both thought Doug would be fatter and have more hair." The three of us must have look utterly confused, so Amy continued: "Your ad in the paper caught my eye where it said about "Your hosts, Louise, Laura and Doug", and when I showed it to Michelle, she recognized your email address. We talked it over and thought it'd be neat to meet the people who stole away the last of our innocence!" Michelle looked at me as she said "I'm the one that emailed back your diary before we handed in your computer to the police." Oh my God, I didn't know whether to hug her or run for cover, as the phrases " Damn you Laura!" and "Yours Hatefully" came to mind. Louise blushed, realizing who they were and what they knew about us. A numb sensation in my thighs signaled me that my legs were squeezed together way too tight. After a short period of uncomfortable silence, Doug began to pry with measured tact. He began, "And how have the brothers dealt with your loss of innocence?" Michelle replied, "Had a certain gullible person not decided that bald was beautiful and showed it to her drunken fisherman husband, who in turn loudly announced it to his drunken twin brother, who also discovered that bald was beautiful, they'd have never known about us." Amy retaliated with: "You knew what was in Laura's journal long before you let me take it from you and start reading it! And it's not my fault that our perverted husbands spy on us kissing and groping each other. It's your husband that came up with the idea of having us do Show and Tell all the time!" Louise interrupted their squabbling with, "Ladies, Ladies, regardless of how this change in your lives came about, has it been such a bad thing?" Amy cooed, "Oh no, our husbands insist upon doing everything together and now Michelle and I have more to do now than sit around, get liquored up and bitch about them." We all looked to reserved little Michelle for her views on the matter. She cautiously began, "I felt terrible after our first fling but after a week or two, the physical side-effects of my little lamb being sheared began to rule my every waking minute. Every time I walk or climb stairs, those pleasantly tickling sensations made everything else seem much less important. To make a long story short, now I spend so much time playing with myself or enticing someone else to play with it, that I've lost touch with my morals. I was brought up by a Sex is for making babies, mother and here I am now, doing all these Not for making babies, things with my sister, of all people, and I'm just at wit's end!" I asked her if Amy was much of the problem, to which she snapped, "No, I'm the problem! But she sure doesn't help my guilt feelings much." I suggested from my experience that her sexual desire might lessen if she let her bush grow back in, to which she replied: "We've tried that and it helps, but every time we're alone together, we agree we miss the tickles. One thing leads to another and the next thing we know, we're naked in bed and massaging in skin cream after shaving each other's stubble." Louise interrupted and asked, "Doesn't Amy have similar reservations about your affair?" Amy answered "Sometimes, but when we try to clean up our act and be good little wives, whenever Michelle's lush body gets within touching range, I get right out of control and we're back at each other again." Douglas, the Logical, suggested, "You know Michelle, you could push away Amy's advances if you really want to end your affair. As a child I was molested several times by my homosexual cousin, but I ended it eventually by refusing to play his games in spite of how good they felt and how much I enjoyed them." To no one's surprise Michelle confessed, "It's not always her that initiates the games and as you inferred, it's really hard to say no to something that feels so good." Tears started to form in Michelle's reddening eyes as she stammered out, "I'm just beside myself and don't know how much longer I can live with my guilt, so I'm here to get answers. You people are old enough to be our parents and shouldn't you know better than to mess with tradition? And how do your kids cope with your sexual preoccupations?" I cleared my throat, summoned up the strength of my matured convictions and told her that our children had been raised with Doug's liberal views on sexuality, were taught absolutely everything as teenagers and were allowed as much freedom as they needed, provided they used disease prevention and birth control methods. I also pointed out that had she not pried into the most private document in the computer they kept from my stolen van, none of this would ever have become an issue. I told her she should have known better than to open Pandora's box and now she had to live with what she had learned. "But how did you all get so perverted?" Michelle asked in desperation, to which Louise replied, "In this household perversion can be defined only by its members. Our guidelines are simple. If it feels good to someone and no one feels pain, it's not perverted!" On the offensive, Doug began, "Has Amy ever really hurt you?" When she shook her head, No, he continued, "Then nothing perverted has happened since you've lost your innocence and the only real hurt is to your conscience, your Mother's Conscience, am I right?" The poor thing looked at him in sad submission and then he uttered this outrageous Dougism: "So basically your mind is confused because fate has forced you to discover, in the prime of your life, that women are much better at pleasing other women and now that your lust is unleashed, your mother's conscience is making you feel guilty about feeling so good! I believe the only solution to Michelle's dilemma is to sit she and Amy on one living room sofa, park Louise and Laura on the other couch. Put on some nice girly music or video, talk with my ladies, appreciate their happiness and observe the love that took them forty-eight years to discover. In the meantime, I will go upstairs, put on my headphones and listen to some Jimmy Buffet." Doug stood up, turned his back to us and then sang out: "We are the people your parents warned you about. We are the people, you just can't figure out. We are the people, who love to twist and shout. Shake it up baby." Another chorus of "We are the people" faded away as the silly ass did the rumba upstairs to the beat of a steel drum band only he and I could hear. Terribly embarrassed by Doug's flippant statements, I tried not to make eye contact with the girls, but "Could we watch an Andrew Blake video then, pretty please?" came out of the grinning mouth of Amy. On a coffee and sugar enhanced high, she was something to behold. Her short curly auburn hair framed her radiant smile and I just knew it could be a long afternoon. "See, I told you it'd be all right!" She squealed and planted a hugely erotic kiss on a bewildered Michelle's lips. Feeling completely responsible for Michelle's dilemma, I began a heart to heart talk with the girls. While Louise got her tape, we talked further of love and commitment but above all I stressed that they please themselves first and never feel guilt for doing so. When I pointed out that in polls, over half of open-minded female college students in North America would seriously consider an affair with another woman, Amy told me that they lived together all through their college years. I told Michelle to ignore her mother's puritan values and enjoy her elite status as a truly liberated, educated woman blessed with an inquiring mind. Amy asked if a lesbian relationship could override maternal instincts. As Louise loaded her tape in the VCR she replied, "I've had affairs with several women over the last twenty years and while maternal instincts popped up occasionally, most of the time they were nowhere to be found in bed with the women I knew." With that, perky Amy patted Michelle's knee, grinned and said to her, "No matter what then, it's you and me forever, Roommate." Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 11 I poured the apple-cranberry wine they brought us from Archibald's and we toasted, "To girlfriends in love" as the titles of "Captured Beauty" flashed on the screen. Louise settled back in one corner of the loveseat chesterfield and lifted her leg up onto the seat cushion. I sat down between her legs and leaned back against her chest as we watched three pretty girls' limo ride up to an incredible old Hollywood Mansion. Amy took Louise's lead and had Michelle cozy up to her similarly on the big sofa, when a serenely pretty, young blonde haired woman and sweetly innocent Dahlia Grey, were brought into the foyer and undressed. As an older authoritative and scantily dressed poked and prodded the young women with a string mop-like leather whip, I peeked over at our guests. When the matron slapped each of the two actresses' pussies and bums with the long suede tentacles, Amy winced but Michelle's eyes sparkled. Ten minutes or so later of slow motion, beautifully filmed erotica, I thought I saw Michelle slide her hand behind her back, between Amy's parted legs. After a few seconds, Amy's eyelids slowly blinked in what I assumed was provoked passion. We watched additional lavishly costumed women expose themselves, masturbate themselves and initiate new girly games. But when a cute blonde dribbled molten glass jar candle wax down sweet Dahlia's gorgeous breasts, everyone's eyes turned to me. Damn that sheer silky under wire bra! I looked down at my shivery nipples and there they were, hugely erect and jutting out my thin ribbed turtleneck sweater like jumbo peanuts! The girls smiled back knowingly, then turned back to the screen, but some evil person beside me sneaked her right hand up under my arm where the others couldn't see and cupped my right breast. All our eyes sparkled as we watched a willowy, sort-haired brunette poke and tease the pussy of an anxious, belt-bound and extremely flexible cutie with a riding crop. Toward the end, the same brunette clipped some bobby pin-like nipple clamps, strung together with a necklace chain, onto Dahlia's erect teats. We watched in wonder as her torturer tugged on the gold chain. But when she pulled the chain taut, high above Dahlia and stretched her swollen dark teats straight out, nasty fingers were equally mean to mine. I felt Louise's strong little fingers squeeze down on my right teat, then pull it straight out an inch or more! That of course, made my clitoris tingle and my already moist pussy dilate. Louise knew me well and sneakily traced that middle finger down my right side. She tickled it down across my abdomen and then forcefully hooked the crotch of my stretchy lounging leotards into me up past her first knuckle. I turned my head to Louise and whispered, "Not yet, not in front of them." She whispered back, "You know you want it now, see." And pushed a second finger in even deeper just as the credits rolled up the TV screen. I pushed her fingers gently away and peeked over at the girls. They both gave me knowing glances as I tried to catch their reactions to the movie. It wasn't until I got up to retrieve the ejected videocassette that I felt a tampon-like sensation in my pussy. As I smoothed down my bunched up tights and felt their wet crotch pull out of my pussy, I realized what they'd been grinning at. Michelle wryly observed, "Since you are obviously urgent with need, we think it best to leave you two alone a while. We're going out for supper and some shopping in Huntingdon and will see you about 9:30. Perhaps you two will be cooled off enough by then to keep your hands to yourselves and set a better example to your guests." With no impressionable young minds to mess with, we resigned ourselves to the drudgery of preparing supper. But when Jimmy Buffet came down to see what was on the menu, I found a new victim to torment. I gave him a sultry look and a quick penis squeeze, then turned back to flirt with my little French pastry. Master chef Dellissio shoved her Krafty creation into the oven and then helped create a salad with Luscious Louise. I ripped up leaves of lettuce and spinach while she chopped up a green pepper and diced mild onion into the bowl. I sliced raw carrots and celery into the mix, but made a suggestive show of fondling the cucumber. I peeled off its condom-like wrapper daintily with my fingertips, stroked my hand up and down it and then licked the rounded end with the tip of my tongue. I swirled the tip around each of my breasts, then slid it down between my legs and clamped it tightly into my crotch. I closed my eyes seductively and drew it out slowly out from between my thighs, whisked it under Jimmy's nose and washed it off under the tap. As I sliced it into the salad, he wisecracked, "So it's frozen pizza and salad then. If I get out that garlic French stick in the freezer, could you traumatize it for us too?" Clandestine toe jobs under the table got Louise and I through supper, but no matter what we did after, Doug was underfoot. Our spirits were ultimately deflated shortly after 9:00 when Amy and Michelle returned with shopping bags. They told us they were bushed, informed us they were leaving early the next morning to return to Kaladar and excused themselves. True to their word, they were up by 6:00 and gone by 6:30 without even a goodbye. After breakfast, I made up their room. On the headboard of the bed, under a burnt down taper and a glass jar candle, I found a note that read: "Thanks for your advice, Laura. Here's hoping the relationship you complicated will endure with your suggestions. Sorry for the mess we made of the sheet but it seems to flake off easy and I'm sure it'll all wash out. After seeing that movie, we couldn't wait a minute longer to see what it felt like. Glad we came, Michelle and Amy." I flipped back the covers in curiosity and here, there and everywhere were little pink blotches. In the waist basket were strings and blobs of pink melted candle wax. Between the locations of the bigger wax clusters on the sheet and the lingering scent of pussy up the base of the taper candle, it took little imagination to envision what those two had been up to that night. I shook the loose spots off the sheet, gathered them up and along with the waxy globs from the basket, sprinkled them back into the jar candle. When I finished the room, I took the two candles up to my breakfast nook. I sprinkled out the loose wax clusters on the counter then lit the jar candle. When the flame melted the wax all around its wick, I snuffed out the flame by thrusting the base of the taper into that molten little pink wax pussy. I melted the wastebasket blobs in the microwave, flowed it all around the perpendicular taper then shaped the gelling wax with a spoon to resemble cute little labia lips. With its taper triumphantly protruding from its pink wax pussy, my candle creation found a special place on the curio shelf as my symbolic tribute to lesbian lust. Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 12 Dear Dirty Diary, My darling husband returned today after his five day, late September fishing trip to Schooner Lake. After thorough questioning it turned out he'd gotten a little apprehensive being all alone up there amongst the wailing loons and spirits of dead Algonquin Indians. He swears there's some kind of energy around the fire pit on the island that spooks him. So he drove back down to the condo to visit the kids. On the way down from Plevna, he went to a Saturday night concert at Peterborough and saw Lisa Brokop perform. I was so pissed, but when he pulled out a signed copy of her new CD out of his bag I decided to forgive him for his wandering ways. When I asked him if there were any more presents in his bag, he pulled out an array of HoMEDIC massagers that he'd bought at the Pickering Markets. The big one was shaped like ET's head and neck and had two black bullet-shaped bumpers on it that looked like bulging eyeballs. Ten others he said he paid $5 apiece for looked like and were labeled as wireless computer mice. Doug took one out of its package after I asked him what good they'd be with my laptop. He said they'd make good stocking stuffers for the Richelieu River gals. With that he pulled out the waistband of my pants, stuffed it right down inside the front of my underwear then pushed the center button on the mouse. Some computer mouse! It was a personal vibrator designed to just look like a mouse and it was very good. In fact it was very powerful and shook my pussy most exquisitely. Backing up purposely, he grinned from ear to ear as I stepped ahead to kiss him for his marvelous little gizmo. But each step I took, it slipped down and came to rest in my panties like an old sanitary pad. Did I say before it was very powerful? With each stride my inner thighs ground it around unmercifully against my genitalia! As I struggled back toward the sofa, I noticed another bag had appeared. Laura, the Curious, meandered back toward my husband. I pouted in disappointment when he pushed the off button through my pants and silenced the mouse's hum. Reluctantly I extracted it from her underpants then snuggled up to my benefactor. "While I was in Pickering I noticed a new upscale adult boutique, so I naturally had to check it out," he began. He told me it was full of all the usual naughty stuff but he was pretty sure I'd love his next gift. With much anticipation on my part, Doug slowly removed a box from his bag. In it was a little pistol-grip drill thing that plugged into the car cigarette lighter. However rather than a drill bit, it had an two inch diameter, three inch long screw auger permanently attached. Its fluting reminded me of the antique glass orange-juicer my grandmother used to have. It took but a second to figure out the intent of this gadget. "I believe," he began, "You might enjoy this much more than an old ice scraper to get you through the long trip back home, to say nothing of the Cornwall border crossing." I told the Elf in no uncertain terms that if this was a dare, I was up for it! To prove myself to be no coward, we set out on a fall foliage tour up around Lake St. Francis that afternoon. I wore a flowery yellow, low cut and cleavage exposing bra dress that rode a good six inches above my knees when I was sitting. Wanting to retain at least a hint of decency, I wore sandals and my stretchy nylon briefs underneath. Doug drove out of Port Louis, along the lakeshore road to St. Barbe, across the bridge to Valleyfield then back across the St. Lawrence River. We worked our way back down to Highway 2 where we switched and I drove the 35 miles down along the north shore of the lake. Driving back toward Cornwall was challenging, particularly when my favorite pervert produced yet another gadget from his bag. He mailed away for the "Bionic Finger" up to Regal in Hawkesbury. He put a bumpy little thimble-like cover over its tip, slipped it on his left index fingertip then clicked its switch. A high-pitched whine immediately signaled its intent and I was not at all surprised when I felt it buzz around the aureole of my right breast. A couple of figure eights across my boobs and both of my teats were sticking out noticeably through my sundress's bodice. Next it careened over my belly, down my right leg the back up under my skirt. He teased it from thigh to thigh across my pubes but when Doug slid the vibrating little probe down the crotch of my panties, my fingers dug into the steering wheel. The next thing I knew he was kneeling on the floorboards between the front seats. Half facing me, he lifted up the hem of my dress, pulled out the waistband of my briefs then dropped the mouse massager down inside! He let the waistband snap back, flicked the massager on then shoved it deep down my crotch. He placed it perfectly, trapped inside my billowy panties. Then he just sat back and grinned like the bad little boy he was. By the time we reached Cornwall Island I'd had two orgasms, was working into the third, when he had me pull off the highway for a pit stop. Doug had his pee, climbed back in then got out the screw blender. Parked on the shoulder, I hiked my skirts up and pulled down the front of my big silky panties. He removed the mouse then carefully positioned the drill between my thighs with the pistol grip facing up. Doug plugged the power cord into the lighter socket then flicked the switch on for a test run. The dry screw spun around a few times then bored itself into me immediately and stalled! Figuring I'd need lots of lubrication for the dare, I got out my trusty tube of KY and moved the toy out of the way. I split my labia with one hand then squeezed a quarter or the tube right into myself. I slapped more lube all over my labia and greased up the screw for good measure. I wiped my fingers, pressed the drill back in comfortably, readjusted my panties so they would contain any splattering KY, straightened my skirts then put the van into gear. Once back on the highway, I focused myself. I put my van on cruise for the five miles to the border then told him to plug it in. Again it dug itself right into me, but this time it caught some KY and spread it around in no time. As if the boring machine wasn't enough, he decided the Bionic Finger should be part of the program as well. As the drill spun away, up went my skirt and down my underpants went that surprisingly powerful little vibrator. For the second time in two days, there I was again, "taking it like a woman", as the drill whined, the finger buzzed and the juices splattered up the insides of my panties. I was behind the wheel, with my legs spread apart, having my vulva mercilessly churned, my clitoris and aureoles deliciously vibrated, while hurtling directly towards the US Customs kiosk! As I touched the brakes to slow for the inspection, my husband turned up the air conditioner fan to cover the noise of the drill, smoothed out my skirts then buzzed my nipples again with the Bionic Finger. A serious looking male Customs agent looked in at us both, asked us where we were born, how long we'd be in the USA and what the purpose of our visit was. He must have intimidated me somehow, causing my vulva to squeeze down hard on that spinning screw. The little motor started to howl. Suddenly the pistol grip started to smack against my thighs then up against my skirt as the whole thing started to spin! He peered down just in time to see the power cord whip out of the lighter and disappear up under my dress. In an instant he was on his walky-talky. A door opened in a building to the right and two more Customs agents motioned me over toward them. Doug's face blanched white as they approached our van. "Step out of the car please!" was all I heard as blood pounded up the back of my neck! When I said, "I'm not sure that I can," I saw the woman's hand pull her riot stick from her belt. I spun around to face her, all set to beg for mercy and saw, wouldn't you known it, St. Regis! Then my face blushed beet red. Through my open window I jabbered away excitedly about Doug's dare and the sex toy up under my skirt, at which time my beautiful Mohawk princess slipped on a pair of blue rubber gloves. As Doug got out his door so the other agent could search our van, she said to me, "You know I have to see what you're concealing under your dress, don't you?" She opened my door, took me firmly by the arm and led me inside the building. My vulva, by that time, had released its hold on the drill's screw but the whole thing just dropped into my panties. I hobbled bow-legged along into a cold room where she promptly had me sit on the examination table inside. She clicked on a video camera mounted on a tripod in the corner, explaining that all searches must be fully documented to serve as submit able evidence. My insane secret fantasy was coming true and my mind was awash in emotion. When she ordered me to remove my dress, I obediently complied. There I sat, dressed in my granny panties with a huge twisted up wad in front and a tangled up cord dangling out over their waistband. And of course, as if they weren't already hyper enough from the Bionic Finger, the cold had stiffened my nipples fat and hard! St. Regis followed the power cord up between my legs, hooked her finger around my waistband, pulled it out as far as it would stretch then peeked down inside my panties. "My, my, what have we in here?" she questioned as she plucked my toy out. "It's a car-trip sex toy for women that my husband and I were trying out," I answered. "And exactly does this drill contraption do for you?" my raven-haired beauty continued. "We only had it going for ten minutes, but it basically drills into and churns up my pussy," I answered honestly. "You realize I have to do a cavity search now to find out what kind of drugs you're on and might be carrying, so off with the underwear then lay back on the examining table," she ordered. As soon as my bare back touched down on the cold vinyl pad, she pulled out two metal stirrups out of the table and placed my feet in them. I'd been through this enough times at my doctors to know what it was going to feel like so I decided this was my big opportunity to witness it firsthand. I propped myself up with my arms stretched out a little behind me before she started. St. Regis looked at me nervously for a second then proceeded. She bent down with her little flashlight and looked my genitalia over carefully. She got a speculum out of a drawer, warmed it briefly in her hands then inserted it in me. I felt my vulva spread and cool air invade my vagina with the first click of the speculum's lock. As I watched her raven hair flutter in the air conditioner's breeze, I felt another then another click as she spread me wider and wider. As she carefully scrutinized my vagina for a cache of hidden contraband, I felt the corners of my mouth involuntarily upturn at the irony of it all. She glanced up at me and saw my smirk. She squeezed it open as far as it could go then released and removed the speculum. An authoritarian expression swept across her face and St. Regis lubed up her right hand. "Oh my god, she's gonna fist me!" I thought as she clustered her fingers. I got all tingly excited as I felt her fingers press my labia in then half closed my eyes as her push seared through my vulva. Again I was in my glory, taking it all like a woman and taking it good too, considering the surroundings. With steadfast determination, she felt every square inch of my vagina as I humped my hips absentmindedly. At that point, she abruptly withdrew her hand. She changed her right hand glove, lubed up her index finger and headed down to my rectum! With her smooth latex-covered digit she probed around for a few seconds then took it upon herself to poke her thumb into my pussy as well! When she began to wriggle her thumb about at the same time as she was sliding her finger in and out of my rectal passage, I suppose I shouldn't have closed my eyes or moaned through my nostrils in my excitement. When I did reopen them I realized she was staring at my face. She stopped her pleasing manipulations and began: "In my time with the Customs Department I have had to do cavity searches on quite a number of suspicious women. All of those women lay back, faced the wall, cringed, whimpered or cried during the procedure. Never before has anyone sat up and watched! Never before have I examined an attractive middle-aged woman dressed like a twenty-five year old at Club Med, with a shaved pubes and a gold ring pierced right through her erect clitoris! Never before have I examined anyone driving through a U.S. point of entry with a sex toy in her underwear and never before have I inserted a speculum into an already dilated vulva! Get up, get dressed and go back to Canada where you belong. I believe you are some kind of a perverted sexual predator and as a representative of the United States Government, I'm denying you entry to my country!" My bubble of bliss was instantly broken and I was flabbergasted as I tugged up my panties so I said back, "Do you really mean that bringing an elevated libido into your country is now illegal?" As St. Regis clicked off the video camera, she taunted back, "In President Bush's post 911 America, Homeland Security guidelines make your actions a threat my dear, so take your libido back to where it'll be tolerated. You're old enough to know better than to pull pranks like this." As I tugged down my dress, I asked, "Will this tape of me be used against me next time I enter the U.S.?" She replied, "It will be the senior agent's call what happens." As for my toy, St. Regis slapped my hand and said, "No, this must be confiscated because you are likely to re-offend with it and endanger innocent peoples' lives while under the influence of its distraction." As I turned to exit the room she touched my arm and said, "What in hell would ever make you pull such a stunt?" I explained the toy was a gift from my husband and I used it on a dare. "A dare?" she shouted! Nearing my van, I told her that I went through the border on a dare because I'd gotten away with something very similar about three months ago right here. Her left eye squinted sternly as I slammed my door shut. I shifted into reverse and told her through my open window that the last time I used an ice scraper inside myself and thought obscene thoughts of her fisting me as she let us pass into the U.S.A. "So you see Princess, you may have denied me a short trip home, but I already had your hand for lunch! If you want to be had again at our Girls' Night, look me up at "Our Little Secret" over in Port Louis," I taunted as we circled back up into Cornwall. Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 13 Dear Dirty Diary, The weekly games nights were fun but too much emphasis was placed on debauching and not enough on paying our expenses. Fortunately we had posted advertising in malls and the Chamber of Commerce info offices throughout the area to catch shoppers. One weekend in early October, a young woman with dark olive skin and sparkling black eyes arrived, saying she saw the signboards. Rija, a late twenties Montrealer, took the front room next to the stairs. As she was going out for supper, a pair of middle-aged women passed her on the front porch. Connie and Althea informed us they were from the Vermont lesbian website we advertised in and had come to do a review on our establishment for their readers. The couple was given the room next door to Rija and across the hall from Louise. During the tour of the premises, in her enthusiasm to please our first American customers, Louise offered them videos and use of the toys to spice up their stay. The gold vibrator caught Connie's eye while Althea seemed more interested in a movie about Squirters. Having already eaten, they retired to their room for a romantic evening together. An hour or so later, Rija returned from supper, lounged in the hot tub for a while, then returned to her room. Since Doug was visiting back home, we too retired early to Louise's to watch videos. Louise dragged me back to her bedroom after changing into her pajamas. She shushed me with a finger to her lips as she opened the small storage compartment door built into the attic staircase. As we snuggled in her bed, we heard soft music and feminine moans from the movie echo through from the adjacent room. During a lull in the movie sound track, I swear I heard the familiar purr of the big gold vibrator. I heard the unmistakably silky voice of Althea say, "What do you think this little red button's for?" Deep, husky grunts followed ever few seconds immediately after she spoke. Steadily louder quivering moans rasped from Connie's whisky throat. As I envisioned what I knew the vibrator's pulses were doing to her genitals, I slipped my tongue into Louise's mouth. I pushed my fingers down inside the front of her sleep pants and felt my own clitoris tingle as my fingertips slid down her warm belly and across her bush. My lover's legs spread open so eagerly that my middle finger skidded over her mound, down her slit and poked right into her warm little honey pot. My fingertip felt warm and cozy inside, but by the time I decided to explore deeper, I felt four cool little digits push up inside the pant leg of my shorts. In an instant I felt the stretchy nylon lace of my panties wad up through my vulva. I snorted through my nostrils damn near as loud as Connie when Louise swished the coarse crotch of my little boy-leg underpants around inside my pussy! We French-kissed and fingered each other hot and hard as we listened to the loving in progress next door. Althea wondered out loud, "Hey, this little red knob turns too. What happens when I turn it all the way clockwise, like this Darlin?" With that, Connie's moans grew louder and more guttural. I knew exactly what she was feeling at that moment. That vibrator was on full Autosurge and was bloating up as big as a woman's forearm with each pulse. We could hear her groans and moans quiver louder and louder with each cycle. Suddenly a rap on the shared bathroom door broke through the night. "Are you all right in there?" a muffled voice called out. Connie continued to vocalize and a few seconds later, "I have medical experience and can help if she's having a convulsion or something," Rija spoke out in her distinct Middle Eastern accent. "Pipe down a minute Connie and maybe she'll go away," whispered Althea as the hum of the vibrator ceased. "Pipe down, shit!" muttered Connie, "I wasn't nearly done and there's now way some goody two-shoes is gonna ruin my fun." And the vibrator hummed once more. Connie's moans returned, even louder than before, as did the volume on the TV's erotic movie. Then there were moans of pleasure from two women permeating the night. An even louder knock was heard on the door and Rija called out, "If you don't let me examine that poor woman, she could die!" "I'll get rid of her once and for all, so cover up," Althea grumbled as we heard her get out of bed, walk a few steps and open the bathroom door. Footsteps ensued and Althea said, "My friend here is just fine. You see all the racket was coming from this stupid movie we were watching." "That's not the voice I heard, moaning in pain," noted Rija. "I think you should let me examine your friend," she continued. We heard covers whip and heard Connie's gruff voice say: "Examine this then Bitch, I've got this fantastic vibrator stuck up my cunt and I like it right where it is, thank you very much!" Althea added, "If you ask the hostess, you can choose something out of her toy and video library. It apparently comes with the room rental." A period of silence, punctuated by a click, was followed once more by the hum of the big gold vibrator. "But if you insist upon examining me, be my guest." I looked over to see why the fingers frothing my underwear had abruptly stopped. I saw an expression of absolute terror in my Louie's eyes. "Sacre blue, she'll sue our asses off for this if either of them touch her!" Louise whispered. Seven or eight seconds passed then an agitated Connie spat out, "What's the matter girl, haven't you seen enough yet?" The purr of the vibrator suddenly sped up and became audibly louder as we heard, "There, see what something like this'll do to a woman's cunt, so go back to your room you little pervert, or do you make a habit of staring up into women's vaginas?" "As a matter of fact, Gynecologists like myself do look up into vaginas on a regular basis, but I normally see women in my office," replied Rija. "But I usually have to resort to using speculums to dilate a vagina this dramatically. I find it most interesting that you find pleasure from being stretched so completely. I'm quite aware that the vagina, as a muscle, is capable of great expansion and contraction but it surely must take years of practice to achieve these extremes. I'm most intrigued by what I'm seeing here. If I sat quietly and unobtrusively here in this dark corner, would you mind if I observed, strictly on a professional level, of course?" "Suit yourself Doc!" Connie snapped as Althea got back to business. After a few seconds the slurping began to drown out the vibrator's drone. "Is that good right there, Baby?" questioned Althea after a particularly lusty moan groaned up from the depths of Connie's throat. "What must she be feeling to make such a noise?" queried the young voice from the corner. "Oh shit, let's just give it to the good Doctor and then she'll know firsthand how it feels," suggested an irritated Connie. The bed squeaked, the young voice protested weakly, then considerable rustling was followed a loud bed squawk. Louise sat up abruptly in bed, ready to spring into action as we heard soft grunts and more bed squeaking. As Louise's hand reached for the door knob we heard Althea observe, "You don't have to hold her down Connie, our young professional here appears to be enjoying our little show. I've got her nightgown up and she's already juicy, loose as a goose and ready to party." "Were you diddling yourself there in the corner while Althea was doing me?" Connie slyly demanded. "Maybe," the soft little voice responded. Louise sat back down on her bed when Rija cleared her throat and began: "When I saw their ad in that Montreal contact magazine, it caught my eye. I was curious and thought I'd combine a sight seeing trip with a little field research, but I never dreamed I'd get so lucky. Observing you two close up for this short time has brought back old memories and urges I've suppressed since I immigrated to Canada. My Mother was a housekeeper at the Canadian Embassy in Cairo during the time of my youth. The daughter of the diplomat taught me to speak English in the afternoons while my Mother cleaned. The young woman taught me of women's rites in Canada and I talked of my future in Egypt. When I was eighteen, I told her that my clitoris would traditionally be amputated to ensure my faithfulness to my husband-to-be. She was absolutely appalled. That afternoon she took it upon herself to show me exactly what I'd be missing should it be lopped off. Before I continue, would one of you please insert that irresistible looking toy in me to enhance my mood?" We heard the familiar hum drone away loud and clear, listened to its pitch slow and envisioned it slide deeper and deeper into Rija's pussy as it's volume softened. Louise lay back down close to me, touched my hand and then pulled it gently back over to her pubes. I pressed my fingers down through her hairs then caught the loop of her clit ring with my fingernail tip. Louise's left hand reached back, pressed in between my thighs then tickled up to my cave. As I felt her finger tip press back through my vulva, I heard a soft "MMM" from next door, followed by: : "That first afternoon, Jeanette began by pulling the kerchief off my head. She ran her fingers down through my hair and across my cheek. She bent over toward me as we sat on her bed and kissed me on the lips. After many soft kisses she deliberately traced her fingertip across one my nipples then dove directly down between my legs. Instinctively I squeezed my legs together but her kisses grew more forceful and passionate. The instant I released my leg muscles in submission, her hand zipped under my top and down the front of my pants. She searched for a few seconds and then her fingertips deftly found that perfect spot and in an instant were tickling it so skillfully that I started to shiver." "My fears of being deflowered caused me to tense up after a few moments and I voiced my fears of being found out by my future husband. Jeanette assured me that it was entirely unnecessary to sacrifice my virginity for a little pleasure and promised she would never leave evidence of her being down there. When I cautiously agreed to continue, she pulled my pants completely off, spread my legs and furiously licked my clitoris to its first body-shaking orgasm. "Virtually every English lesson for the next six months ended in a tickle or lick session. On one wobbly-legged return home from the Embassy, my father caught me on the street and introduced me to a fearsome looking man. They conferred quietly as I stood in the street. As we departed, my father explained that the man was to be my future husband. He also informed me that the gentleman felt I had a roving eye and must have my clitoris removed before our wedding day! "When I told Jeanette of my fate, she asked me if I was prepared to give up the pleasures she'd taught me to please my father's archaic wishes. I didn't answer her immediately so she continued with her games. Two weeks later, the Gulf War worsened and Jeanette's family prepared to return to Canada for their safety. I said my goodbyes to my best friend, but on the way out of the compound I was pushed into a diplomatic car, handed an envelope containing my Landed Immigrant papers and put on a plane to Ottawa. After a couple years of blissful coexistence, Jeanette's father was re-assigned to Hong Kong and I was left to survive by myself. "I chose to focus on my studies upon what got me there in the first place, my genitals. I'm now a practicing gynecologist in Montreal, but my fear of my jilted husband and my father have never lessened and to this day I've never been with a man. Jeanette is married with children now. She visits me in the summer each year but that is not near enough loving for someone who received daily attention in her youth." "I look after myself exclusively these days but I really long for the touch of someone who really knows what to do. I won't approach anyone I'm attracted to because of my occupation. It's so hard some times to keep my passions to myself when I'm lubing up an attractive woman's vagina. I swear some of my patients come to me just to enjoy my touch. More than once, with certain women, I've noticed an erect clitoris while I'm performing an internal examination and Pap test. I have one incarcerated patient, that prison guards regularly bring to me, who becomes unmistakably aroused as soon as my speculum spreads her apart." "But the fear of being charged with unprofessional conduct keeps my fingers away from her clitoris and frankly, that's why I came down here. The answers I was looking for, I've found here in this bed. Your decision to molest me makes me feel desirable and has rekindled my desires to be loved by another woman once more. I'm going to approach a couple of my favorite patients the next time they visit. Perhaps they'd enjoy my bedside manner away from the office. Now if one of you would crank this thing in me up bigger, I'd be glad to offer you both the most enjoyable internal examination you'll ever experience." We heard the click of the vibrator as it was set on Autopulse, heard the pitch of its hum increase and smiled at each other as we heard the moans of lust come from her throat. Louise's eyes widened as we heard Connie say, "You'd better have a look at Althea here. If you try to do me, she'll get all pissy and have a jealous fit. Besides that she's long overdue for a checkup and I can't think of anything I'd rather do than watch her get a good going over." Louise's face looked more at ease as she undid the buttons of my blouse. She hooked my little bra's shoulder strap down to my elbow. She peeled down the cup of my bra as I took a deep breath. Her soft lips touching down on my aureole awoke my sleeping nipple. I felt the strong suction of her mouth drag my awakening teat between her teeth then held my breath as her pearly whites closed slowly on my tender tip. My pulse quickened as blood pounded into my poor tender bit. I felt her hot wet tongue slather then flick my bloated teat about like a boxer's punching bag. After what seemed an eternity her jaw relaxed. As her hot tongue slipped between my lips, I felt her strong pressure split my vulva. Louise brought her pointy cluster of fingers up for me to see. She moistened them wetly in her mouth, but when she slobbered all over her thumb as well, I knew Althea wasn't the only woman in this house about to be explored! I pictured butchy Althea in the next room, apprehensively spreading her legs. In my mind's eye I saw Rija's shimmering bare hand spread lubricant throughout Althea's pink pussy. As I felt Louise's thumb knuckle pinch my vulva up into my pelvis, I thought of my husband's fat thumb pushing past the same spot and into me beside his hot penis. As I felt the relief of Louise's hand push through deep into my vagina, I remembered the look of awe on Doug's face as he watched that lovely petite hand disappear into me during our first visit here. As I perceived Louise's fingertips tickling the depths of my vagina, I envisioned Rija's dark labia stretched and jiggling around the shaft of the gold vibrator. As I drew a long deep breath through my nostrils, I wished my Dougie were here. He'd be sitting in that corner chair next door. His face would be red, his eyes would be blazing and he'd be stoned on the smell of pheromones in the air. His fingers would be squeezed around his fat dick and his mind would be swimming as his eyes glanced from one sex-crazed woman to another. "What a time to go home!" I whispered to myself. "Look at what the old fool's missing back there, farting around back home," shot through my head just in time to hear Althea's moans of delight as Connie directed, "Twist that fist in up past your wrist Bitch and don't stop till you're in her up to your elbow!" That was all Louise needed to egg her on, but just as she started to twist, I grabbed her hand. I was well aware of what was about to happen to me, but for some reason I felt like turning the tables. I spun myself about then met Louise's confused upside down face in the middle of the bed and thrust my tongue into her agape mouth. We played tongue tag splendidly with no nose collisions for a change. After a few moments, I nuzzled down her neck and centered my mouth over one of her nipples. I swung one of my breasts around until it brushed across Louise's mouth. I lowered my chest carefully and when I felt my nipple plop into her mouth, I sucked up one of hers. I bit and nibbled and sucked her teat through my teeth just like she'd done to me. In response Louise chomped on the base of my teat then shook her head ferociously. My poor breast bounced and shook like a little kitten in the jaws of a bulldog. This was no time for my bits to be tender. In retaliation, Tough Tits the tabby bit down on her other teat, pulled her head back and stretched it up taut. By the time her tip squeezed out between my teeth, the Bulldog had my other kitten in a prolonged death shake! She hurt like hell but I was determined to persevere. I bit into my bottom lip, pulled up strongly and took it all in stride as her teeth ravaged my nipple. I crept down just out of her reach, sat down and glared at her as I comforted my really tender tit. Undaunted, I snatched away her KY jelly, flipped open the cap and squeezed out a palm full of lubricant then proceeded to spread the slippery goop over my entire hand, well up past my wrist as she watched. When done, I nestled in beside her the stared squarely up her pussy from my upside down recline. I dragged down a pillow with my foot, propped up my head, reached out to her hand then smeared some of the excess lube over her thumb and up her wrist as well. With my left hand I pushed open her legs, picked up the KY, shoved the open nozzle into her vulva and squeezed the tube. Louise gasped as the cool slime gushed into her pussy. To complete the preparations, I squeezed more lube into myself to blend with the hot pussy juice dribbling out of me. Ready to rule, I willfully stared into Louise's dark eyes. Gradually her corneas turned into that warmly submissive puppy dog brown. I knew at that second I had control and immediately pounced. I twisted and turned my hand back and forth a little, tucked in my thumb and pushed. I felt a rush of warmth sweep up over my knuckles. Her taut muscles gradually calmed and her eyelids half closed. I rotated my thumb a little, sensed her hot tide of abandon flow up my palm and immerse my wrist then felt her trembling knees clamp down on my forearm. Her vulva held my wrist like a snug elastic cuff as my fingertips explored around inside her steamy pussy. Just as my fingertips felt a pronounced hump covered with coarsely textured flesh, we heard, "Hey there Cleopatra Honey, check out that clitoris on Althea. If you keep grinding her G-spot she's gonna gush!" Pretty sure I'd just found that same G-spot inside Louise, I flicked her hump lavishly. In return, Louise's push came to shove and I too, felt a cluster of fingers wriggle into my vagina! Once I caught my breath, I renewed my flicking. Louise on the other hand, chose to make a fist and use Rija's rotational technique on my G-spot. After a couple moments of her excruciating grinding I felt like I had to pee really bad! I humped my hips a little to stifle the urge but that just made my clitoris tingle. I looked down between Louise's legs to take my mind off myself and noticed her glittering little gold hoop standing straight up at attention out of her obscenely swollen clit. I sat up, craned my neck and looked down between my legs and saw my ring standing straight out as well. I rolled over on my side a little, reached down across my belly and hooked the nail of my free hand's middle finger through mine. It felt absolutely electrified as I wiggled it back and forth. I scanned up my luscious little Louise from her quivering thighs up to her impassioned countenance. I wished my husband were there to witness the debauchery of the moment. As I envisioned his flailing hand milk great spurts of semen out of his penis, I began to orgasm. Louise's eyes popped open with my gyrations and she whipped her hand out of me immediately. Her eyes opened even wider as I felt spasm after spasm spew hot juice down the crack of my bum! Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 13 "Oh fine Althea, and where are we going to sleep now that you've made such a mess of the bed?" grumbled Connie. "And I suppose you had no part at all in the mess, did you Connie?" came the reply from a drained sounding Althea. "You got that right Honey, I was just an innocent bystander," snickered Connie. "It seems my work here is done unless you'd like an examination as well, Connie?" Rija questioned. "No, no, it's quite all right," was the snappy reply. "If that's the case ladies, I'll return to my room now and write up some notes before I retire." Rija's voice trailed off as her footsteps, followed by the sound of the bathroom door closing, signaled her departure. But rustling covers, more grumbling then the sound of a closer door opening, followed by a sharp rap on Louise's door abruptly ended our games. Louise leapt out of bed, whipped her bathrobe on and opened her door a crack. Connie told her that they'd had an accident and needed fresh sheets. Louise opened her door, took two steps to the linen closet between the two bedrooms and handed her a bottom sheet. As Connie took the linens, she frowned oddly as she sniffed the aroma coming from our bedroom. She peeked over Louise's shoulder, saw me upside down in the bed, all covered up and then smiled smugly at me. "Let the good times roll!" said Connie as she turned and walked back into her guest room. When Louise swiveled around to catch a glimpse of what had prompted Connie's statement, she rolled her eyes and shook her head. Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 14 Dear Dirty Diary, By the following morning the three had checked out and we were all alone. Louise was strangely quiet upstairs as I laundered yesterday's towels and bedding. I made some coffee and tiptoed upstairs with hers. All was quiet on the second floor but I heard a chair creak upstairs in my apartment. I stepped loudly up the stairs and glimpsed her from the landing with her nose in my laptop computer. She peered over the top of her reading glasses at me and said, "This segment here describes you marching around with my locket swinging and jiggling from the clitoris ring I put on you. I want to see this in action." Louise got up out of the chair, walked over to my bureau and opened my lingerie drawer. She pulled out that ivory half-slip of mine and directed, "This'll do just fine if you wear it with the waistband just above your boobs." She rummaged some more, pulled out a pair of my nylons and said, "These too, along with those clunky heels of yours." As I undressed, she opened my jewelry box and plucked out her locket. She sat on the edge of my bed as I pulled the slip up under my armpits. She watched me intently as I tugged up my nylons then buckled my "Riverdance" hard heel shoes. I stood up then twirled slowly to see if she was pleased with my appearance. Louise slid off my bed, sat down on the floor then clipped her locket onto me. I gasped when I felt her flick it soundly with her fingertip. She watched it sway then asked me to walk for her. As I paced back and forth past her, I could feel the locket's gentle sway pull on my clitoris. As I felt the warm rush of blood race down to engorge my clit, she exclaimed, "No! No! You must strut like a runway model for me!" I began my imitation of the odd gait fashion shows dictate. As I swung each stride out and across, I felt the locket swing under my crotch and slap against my inner thighs. "Hard steps now!" she directed. As I heard the bone-jarring thud of each clog, I felt those wiggly, jiggling, bouncy tugs torture my clitoris. To heighten the pleasure, I glazed over my eyes to concentrate better on my genitalia. Admittedly in another level of consciousness by then, my prancing gait had driven me into a state of complete abandon. I was oblivious to everything but the motions that created my bliss, including my wide-eyed little Louise. The trance that her flopping locket's tugs induced was shattered by the roadblock of her extended legs as I turned back for another jiggle by. "Now walk with your double-headed dildo instead." Were her only words as she unclipped that bouncy little obsession from my jerked-raw clitoris. When she asked where it was, I nodded toward the dresser drawer that held my underwear. She brought it plus the elastic strap from my EMS machine back then sat down on the floor at the end of my bed. When I shuffled over, Louise held it up between my thighs with one hand then rudely poked a finger right into my vulva from behind! She swirled her finger about to check my arousal level then ran the toy up my inner thigh. She moved it closer to my pussy then smeared the pussy juice from her fingertip all over the bigger end's corona. My heart pounded in fearful excitement as she dipped into my well again and again to lubricate its suede-textured shaft. She pressed the great knob into my vulva and pushed, but nothing doing. A shiver of hesitation had tensed me up. Determined, Louise stored my dildo between her teeth, shoved two fingers of one hand up into me in front and two more of the other hand in from behind then spread me open most uncomfortably. She held her stretch tenaciously for several seconds, grabbed the dildo from her mouth and spat two or three times all over its corona. I felt a strong push, a twist, a turn, a grind another push then immediate relief as the great knob pushed on through into my vagina! Louise stared at it momentarily then gave the spongy stump protruding from me a pussy jolting slap, followed by a nasty little crank about. I felt the strong elastic dig into my outer thigh as she Velcro cinched the stiff protuberance tight against my inner thigh. Louise asked, "Does that feel about right for a stroll?" Through rough nervous breaths I stammered, "Please, I don't think I am up to this!" "Nonsense!" she replied and ordered me to strut. Unlike the last time, this much fatter knob held fast inside my vagina. Instead of flailing about inside me, its shaft dragged my vulva and fleshy mound back and forth with each excruciating stride! Blood pounded so hard up the back of my neck, everything I saw just blurred together. Dizzy with elevated blood pressure, my thoughts centered only on the surges that ground away between my legs. Louise made me hobble four circuits around my apartment before she finally stopped me at the end of my bed. She reached up between my quivering thighs, tugged the stump several times then just yanked it out of me! She held it up to me so I could see the shimmering vaginal sap that had drooled down the shaft and dripped off the lower knob. Just so I could see her, Louise tilted her head back, licked my honey from her fingers then plunged all of her fingers up into me. As she flailed her hand about savagely, she craned her head forward then went in for the kill! I heard and savored her flopping hand slop my loose pussy obscenely. I felt her lips suck my clitoris into her mouth and went into a hyper fit as her tongue flicked my clit ring. As I felt those four slim fingers slither about like baby eels inside of me, I tried my best to stay strong. But my knees were shaking and my calves were aching. As my knees began to buckle, Louise snapped, "No, you must take this all like a woman!" and pushed me back up with her wiry little arm. She had me change places with her, thereby giving the backs of my thighs support from the bed's footboard. When I attempted to plant my bottom on the top of the oaken rail, Louise repeated, "No my love, you must take this all like a woman! Hang onto the bed posts if you must, but you must stand strong while I finish you." So there I was, completely spread-eagled against the bottom of my bed, preparing for the inevitable onslaught of those hyperactive little eel fingers and that sinful little mouth. I cringed slightly as I felt her clustered ball of knuckles pinch my labia lips into my vulva. A quick little hump on my part got all the tender bits back where they should be. As she gave my pussy a vibrating little shake, my mind recalled a similar situation from the past. On the hot summer day Doug and I had our first date, we had a picnic down at Fairport Beach. As I sat on a hill overlooking the beach and the lake, I spied a couple hidden in the bulrushes. A dark haired Italian-looking woman knelt on a blanket, facing me. Her husband, I presumed, faced her while reclining on his back beside her. With his elbow firmly planted into the blanket, his forearm rose straight up between her legs. She was smiling ever so seductively at the man with the formidable bulge in his pants. When he wiggled his arm a bit, she pitched her head back and through half-closed eyes caught me watching! She looked me straight in the eye, told him something then hitched her skirt up just in time for me to watch him vigorously flail his forearm about. I remembered how hot my face blushed but I couldn't look away. She just kneeled there, with her legs spread wide, taking it all like a woman as that hairy hand up the leg of her panties shook her pussy senseless! For some reason my mind then chose to recollect an incident during our honeymoon. In a vision of driving along the St. Lawrence River side of the Gaspe, I remembered how the shift stick coming up out of the floor shook so violently in Doug's camper van. It was an old bread delivery van with sliding side doors that he'd converted to travel with. Every time it'd slow down, the big chrome shift ball would shake and when it accelerated it'd jingle and sing away. On one curvy section Doug was thirsty so I got him a pop out of the icebox. After I handed it to him he tapped the brakes lightly for a corner and I stumbled into the shift stick. As luck would have it, the shift ball was at perfect crotch level and did I ever get a shock form its vibrations! I'd never felt anything like that before. Doug's eyes were glued to the road and he was ignoring me completely, so I snuck a little ride on the stick shift. For the twenty-five twisting and turning miles between Rimouski and St. Anne du Mont, I rode the shift ball as Doug watched the St Lawrence curve by. With his left hand on the steering wheel and his camera in his right, the bridegroom completely ignored his hot young bride bracing herself between the front seat backs and taking it all like a woman for her very first time! He didn't even notice when the shift ball sang only to the pussy that had enveloped it. When saw a hill ahead, I lifted off it quickly so he could downshift for the grade. The look of curiosity his face wore after feeling how hot and wet I'd made the shifter ball was priceless. I took it all like a woman then and I committed myself to take it all once more. I locked my kneecaps and returned my full concentration to the lips that sucked my clitoris erect and the tongue that gave it electrifying flicks. I felt that clenched bumpy fist wrench the insides of my vagina as she rotated it to and fro. Thirty seconds later my hips were undulating, my thighs were shaking, my face and chest were flushed hot and my nipples were beet red and hard as surge after surge shook me from head to toe! Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 14.5 Dear Dirty Diary, Thanksgiving weekend all the Huntingdon stores started pushing their winter fashions, so Louise and I went shopping. Even with all the closet space in our new apartment, I had to do some fall-cleaning to make room. I dumped out my pantyhose and tights drawer on the bed beside my relaxing husband. Each pair I got rid of, Doug would pick up, carefully examine, then like an old fart would ask, "What's wrong with these?" I'd point out the runs in the expensive ones and the starchy feet and sags of the cheap ones. I hesitated for too long before tossing out one old beige pair at the bottom of the pile so he immediately picked them up and checked them out. "These feel a lot nicer than the others," he observed. I confessed they felt really sexy on, but pointed out their ripped open crotch and the frayed inner thighs (from being chafed so often by Louise's flailing locket). "But they feel so nice," he repeated then pulled one silky stocking across my arm. It indeed felt nice and shivered up all the tiny hairs on my arm. So I grabbed them from him and said, "Well if you like them so much, maybe you should try them on then, Hot Stuff!" I unbuckled his belt, ripped down his fly and jerked down his pants and under-shorts right off. "If you like the feel of them, maybe we should try a pair on your arms too." I suggested as I rummaged through the castaways. I found another silky pair and smoothed the legs up his arms. I had him lay back toward the head of the bed, then with one quick move pulled his arms up over his head with the panty-part and hooked them over the bedpost before he knew what happened. As quick as I could, I rolled another pair's stocking up my right arm then polished the skin of his penis' corona shiny taut and vibrantly violet! "Dougie likes, doesn't he?" I taunted then bunched the entire leg down over his erect penis. I held back his foreskin between my thumb and middle finger by lightly clenching both sides of it, just below his knob. When I pulled the stocking leg off slowly and steadily, his penis pulsed beet red with blood afterward! "Dougie likes that too, doesn't he?" I teased. With sparkling eyes he nodded repeatedly. "If that's the case, let's find out what else your little soldier might like," I suggested. I wound a stocking around and around his penis then whipped it off as before. Again it pulsed and throbbed. The more teases I tried, the redder his penis and his face became. "Dougie'd like it tied up tight, wouldn't he?" I quipped as I decided to hogtie his dick. I spread my hosiery's panty across his abdomen then stretched both stockings around the back of his up-thrust spread thighs. I crisscrossed each stocking around the lower shaft of his stiff penis then wound each end back under the same thigh. Next, I stretched the stockings out as far as they'd reach, wound them up over his legs then back down between them once more, to the tip of his penis. I looped the stockings' feet once around, right under his knob then tied their toes in a single little knot. He was hog-tied and then some! I had to admit, I was really impressed with my handiwork. His penis looked strung as soundly between his legs as the fuselage of an old biplane's to its wings. An experienced spider couldn't have done better in immobilizing her prey. The Black Widow Spider raked her hopelessly trussed mate with the tip of her nails. He sat quietly, not moving whatsoever as he pondered her next move. He realized his time had come when the Black Widow licked her lips and maneuvered in toward his corona. Powerful venom dripped from her tongue and fangs as he prepared for the end. She slathered his shiny knob with nerve heightening saliva then went in for the climax! However, fertilization would elude her this time. Slurp and suck as she may, no semen would flow. Her mate was terrified and rightly so, for she would bite off his corona as soon as he inseminated her! Finally in abject frustration, the Black Widow tightened her bonds into a strangle hold then vibrated it mercilessly with the ET massager. The spider's lack of patience had proven to be her downfall. The silken strangulation maneuver, combined with the intense jostling was more than he could stand and the precious semen was lost to his legs, her hands, the vibrator, the bedspread and her fabulous hosiery spider-web! What a mess he'd made, spurting all over everything! Mental note: Don't peek at those bondage magazines of Louise's again. Immediately revised mental note: Perhaps Louise's harboring of all that suggestive erotica, at the back of her dresser drawer, underneath all her underwear, could be construed as a cry for help to a caring accomplice! Any sexual predator with a heart should surely help her in her time of need. I released my spent mate from his bindings, cleaned him up as best I could then gathered up all the semen-splattered, icky pantyhose for immediate laundering and went down to the kitchen. The pantyhose I used for locket masturbation would live to please another day. As soon as they were all washed and dried on the delicate cycle, I sorted and folded them all. As Doug slept, I tugged on my special pair, spread their trimmed crotch open wide then clipped Louise's car keys onto my clitoris ring. I snatched up a pair of tattered pantyhose from the pile and strutted toward the foot of the stairs. Ten brisk paces immediately re-introduced me to the pleasure the swinging locket used to bring me. I draped my laundry on the staircase banister then turned right and continued to walk. I paced through the living room, into the dining room then returned to the kitchen. I picked up another pair then pranced them down the hallway once more. Jiggles turned to tugs and I was on autopilot for the first time in eight months. I played a fast-paced Flamenco Star tape on the living room stereo then strode around my circuit in self-induced delirium, dropping 8 or 9 pairs of pantyhose on the banister. I was really hustling along to Gypsy's guitar riffs, but when I reversed my direction at the kitchen, my fast runway prances through the dinning room and living room flailed her keys out from between my thighs, just as I saw Louise peeking through the banister! With her head slightly tilted and that one eyebrow raised, her expression brought me to a screeching stop. She leaned forward, reached out then cradled her keys in her fingertips. "What's this, first my locket and now the car keys my lawyer gave me after the divorce. They've never looked more lustrous, why even the remote is shinning from you unique burnishing technique," Louise continued as she fingered them. After she swung them back and forth with a flick of her fingertip, she mused, "Isn't it ironic that the only real pleasure these keys ever brought is to you. If Marc were here right now to witness this tribute to lesbian love at the expense of his treasured Grand Prix, I'm sure his face would turn purple with rage and his head would explode!" As Louise fingered through the pile of pantyhose beside her, she asked me what they were all about. I explained I'd laundered them all for future use in the Macramé handicraft patterning I'd recently originated. When she asked me to demonstrate further I could hardly contain my excitement! Thinking on my feet, I ushered her back up to her bedroom. I had Louise strip down to her birthday suit as I collected up all her glasses cords. As with my husband, I rolled a pair of pantyhose with a hastily snipped-out crotch up her arms. As with Doug, I immobilized her arms back behind her with another pair then began to truss her legs up with a third pair. However, there was an integral element of my patterning missing! Without an erect penis there was no pivot point. There was no May Pole! Being the accomplished performance artist I was, I thought quickly. Ah yes, it came to me that a May Pole could be had at a moment's notice from her toy drawer. I grabbed the 18-inch double dildo we'd never tried before. Feverishly I spread KY all over the most practical object worthy of being the center of the Rites of Summer! Laura of Lockinvar returned with her Pagan offering to Louise of the Lake. With it shimmering with elixir of domination, Laura introduced the keystone to her lady fair who accepted the tribute most graciously. Whence it was firmly implanted in her Ladyship's vermilion cave, Laura resumed the entwinement. In honor of past rituals, Milady's thighs were encircled around the Maypole, thence back under the thighs then were tied in a true Lovers' Knot at the middle of the lance. To join completely in the ritual, Laura of Lockinvar caused her vermilion cave to greet the free end of the offering then impaled herself upon it. To completely intertwine this ancient rite, the Lady of Lockinvar laced her thighs in an identical fashion with more silken sashes. To complete the union, Laura snared each other's teats together with the Cords of Vision Enhancement and only then were they truly united in their bond of Sapphic love. Unfortunately their bliss was cut cruelly short by the Ogre of the Attic as he suddenly clomped rapidly down the staircase! The force of his bounds sprung the latch and released the boudoir door. The ladies' bonds held their union firm. As his attention was drawn by the creaking open of the door, they were caught in their intertwined embrace. "Well, well, well, what have you done to yourselves now?" were the Ogre's first words. He continued smugly with: "You seem to have yourselves in quite a predicament, don't you? As I see it, the pair of you seem to be strung together so tight you can't get apart, can you? So now it's up to me to figure to how to separate you Siamese twins, joined at the cunt. I suppose I could cut these pantyhose legs with scissors, but that would end my fun way too soon." With that he rummaged through Louise's still open toy drawer, leaving the pair of us to exchange "Deer in the headlights glances". He surveyed our entwinement carefully then announced, "The interlacing is superb but I see room for improvement." He snatched another glasses cord from Louise's toy drawer. I watched as in terror as he thread one end through my clit hoop then stretched it out over toward Louise. He brazenly laced it through her ring, pulled it back around the other side of the double dildo then tied the two ends together tautly with a snug little knot. As he hooked his middle finger under the lace, he said, "I guess I'd better check to see if this harp is in tune." Well, the pair of us just about jumped out of our skin as he twanged away at the string pulling our clits! After about thirty down and dirty plucks he stopped and plucked his mouse vibrator out of her drawer. With bulging eyes we gave him silent pleas for mercy. But to no avail, the bastard maneuvered it under the string, turned it on and lifted the cord taut with it! My clitoris was ever so swollen, ever so stretched and ever so hyper as my husband buzzed the cord! My pussy felt full, my nipples felt bulged and there was nothing we could do but prepare for the fireworks. Louise and I locked eyes and settled in once more to take it like women. The fuses were lit and burning down rapidly. My eyes were the first to break contact as the gunpowder within me lit up! The first concussion raked my head backward in a deep arch. That resulted in both our nipples being half pulled off! That, combined with that infernal vibrating fuse, then set off her powder keg. Surge after surge racked through our bodies as both of our fireworks erupted in fabulous displays of orgasmic delight! In time our quivering and spasms abated, but in the very next second my husband said, "It'd be a shame just to cut you two out of your masterpiece and put an end to this auspicious occasion, wouldn't it?" In seconds he was up and back with our digital camera. Completely helpless, we chose to ham it up for the pictures he took. After he reviewed them he said our expressions were cheesy and lacked lustful abandon. The Bugger grasped our nipple cords and Double-Dutch whipped our teats up then immediately began to buzz the clitoris lace once more with the vibrator! In seconds I saw Louise's big nipples and clit expand deep red with blood. That of course turned me on like crazy and my tender bits swelled to gigantic proportions as well! Dirty Doug had us both frenzied once more as the camera flashed away. By the look of the bulge in his shorts he was quite enthused over the photo session and if my mouth could have reached, I'd have given it a chomp he'd remember for a week or two. The thought of doing that teased my mind up more and my hips were in motion once more. That tugged away at Louise's cords even stronger and she came again with me right behind her! The dirty old pervert kept that damned vibrator humming and the camera clicking right through our second orgasms and completely ignored our pleas for mercy. We were trapped by the pantyhose-legs tying our tender bits together and he knew it. Retaliation was completely out of the question. The slightest upper body movement pulled our snared nipples since our balance depended upon our arms planted behind us for support. Escape was impossible since our legs were held immobile by the silken bonds that I had so snuggly tied. And since he managed to stay out of biting distance, we were pretty much at his mercy. Finally after our third orgasms, the vibrator began to slow. The batteries were fading fast and so was our ardor. Still smirking after his power trip, my husband ever so slowly and tediously picked loose the bows and unraveled my performance masterpiece, stocking by stocking. When I was finally able to pull away from Louise, a shinny wet dildo-half slimed out of my pussy. As I pulled the other half from her strong vaginal muscles, I grumbled about being caught and humiliated by my husband. "Oh Laura, it wasn't so bad. I don't remember Marc ever made me cum, let alone three times in a row!" she comforted. As I stepped up onto my apartment's floor, my mind dwelled upon revenge! I spent hours looking for just the right thing then stumbled upon it in the kitchen junk drawer. At 5:18 the following morning, I got up for a pee after the birds woke me. But when I came back to bed, Drowsy Doug paid little attention to my touch and the metallic click as I peeled back his foreskin and squeezed that combination padlock closed just beneath the corona of his penis!! Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 15 Dear Dirty Diary In the second week of October, a furnace inspector informed Louise we needed a new fuel oil tank and pointed out that the current furnace could never heat our attic apartment. A heating contractor quoted $15,800 for a new high efficiency unit with central air conditioning. The bed and breakfast income had been nominal at best for our first season so we had a situation on our hands. Neither Doug nor I wanted to forsake our spacious attic for the cramped but warm guest rooms on the second floor. We did some research and eventually discovered some propane-fired space heaters that would suffice. We couldn't expect Louise to pay for them out of her meager earnings, so my husband and I agreed to pay for the upgrades. Unfortunately all our investments were locket in and we really didn't have access to $6500 for the heaters and the hot tub we'd paid for on a credit card. We discussed different ways to finance it, when out of the blue Louise suggested we produce CD copies of my dirty diary to sell. She felt that the accuracy and intensity of it all might appeal to women wanting something different to read, so we decided to give it a try. Doug however, suggested we contact a lawyer to find out the legalities of a project like this. The consultation with the lawyer proved fruitful and the only thing he was concerned over was that Michelle and Amy still had part of this in my old computer. He suggested we obtain written permission from all parties depicted in my diaries. It came to me in a flash. We could host a reunion or something and get permission at that time. Thanksgiving was the initial thought but Halloween won out since a costume party and dance with free lodging would surely attract them all. We emailed everyone, received positive replies from absolutely everyone and set about planning our gala. Decorating the outside would be no problem but doing up the basement would be a challenge and sleeping accommodations would be difficult. After much deliberation, we decided that the available beds, sofas and reclining chairs would suffice even if some local gals became too drunk to go home. By the middle of October the attic heaters and the new fuel tanks were installed and paid for on credit card. The house was cozy and tidy by the following week and we had only the decorations and snacks left to purchase. On October 29, a car pulled up in the driveway and out popped Amy and Michelle. They brought costumes and decorations in plastic garbage bags, plus two bushels of apples and six bottles of hard cider wine from Archibald's as well as a huge fuzzy green Coleman air bed They moved all their stuff into the basement because they wanted to create a dungeon playroom down there. Connie and Althea as well as Rija and her companion, Karla arrived the following day and moved into their old rooms. All afternoon the seven of us decorated outside. Every time we opened the cellar door, we were told to get lost by the Dungeon Rats who were denying everyone access to the hot tub and exercise equipment down there. Amy and Michelle finally came up for air in time when the Chinese takeout arrived at 5 pm. We rushed through supper, dressed and by 6:30 we were ready for the Trick or Treaters. Michelle and Amy came upstairs dressed as pirates with bandanas, patches over one eye and sponge play swords from the Dollerama stuffed in their belts. Outspoken Connie was perfect as an obnoxious Octoberfest barmaid in her long full dress, billowy peasant blouse and her comic tart makeup. Aptly, Althea was dressed as a Tyrolean dancer, complete with hat, white shirt, leather shorts and lederhosen. I thought Rija's white lab coat with stethoscope and white pantyhose and her companion Karla's hospital gown and slippers could have been more original. But when Louise made her entrance dressed as Minnie Mouse I was definitely amused. When Doug stepped noisily down those two flights of stairs and ambled down the hall, that six and a half foot high, yellow-feathered, orange-legged Big Bird really unsettled me! I sashayed over to him and asked him if something was going on that I should know about. "Naw, we thought it would be fun to dress up just for you," said my husband. Knocks on the front door signaled the onslaught of Trick or Treaters. The toddlers were so cute and some of their parents dressed up to accompany them on their loot collection rounds. By eight o'clock the stream of tykes had vanished, I presume to devour their booty. Suddenly vehicle doors slamming hinted that a new surge was about to besiege us. This time however, the knocks came from the side door where Louise ushered in two vanloads of revelers. The Richelieu River gals had arrived! Coats were hung up and it quickly became apparent they were identically costumed and were to be referred to as the "Bawdy Beekeepers". Ever one of them was wearing a Shoppers Drug Mart "West Nile Virus" mosquito suit. They were covered from head to toe in sheer brown netting and you couldn't tell one from another through their veiled headdresses. One thing I could tell, however, was that they all were completely nude underneath those suits! They said virtually nothing. Instead they buzzed amongst themselves in a peculiar little language only they pretended to understand. As Louise and Connie herded them all downstairs, I heard a knock at the front door. Upon opening it a crack, a familiar voice said "Trick or Treat!" and into the light stepped Princess St. Regis, the boarder guard! She held out a loot bag and asked if there were any treats for a tired Mohawk princess. I let her in just in time for her to see Big Bird usher the last beekeeper down the stairs. As I offered her a choice of candies, I asked, "How did you?" "Find you?" she completed. She reminded me that I hinted at where we lived when I squealed away from the border crossing. "Besides that, your husband hand delivered an invitation to me last week," she added. I couldn't believe that Doug would invite such a bitch, but after a few seconds I realized my encounter with her was in my diary too. "Actually I have a treat for you as well." She continued and handed me a plastic food bag. Inside I found a small videocassette tape and my screw-drill. "I thought it was the least I could do to make sure these didn't get into the wrong hands and cause untold embarrassment for you." "So what's this all about?" Princess Small Hands St. Regis asked as she looked toward the cellar door. "It's a small party amongst special acquaintances to kick off a fund-raiser," I answered with reasonable accuracy and then asked her if she'd like to join in. I hung up her Customs jacket with the others. I took a deep breath and walked downstairs with my U.S. Customs agent, in full uniform, following me. As I stepped down the stairs, I saw a sea of candles! They were everywhere, flickering away in glasses and jars. I stepped cautiously onto the basement floor into the semi-darkness of the room. I saw constant movement but it took a good thirty seconds until my eyes adjusted to the dim light. I walked carefully around, searching for familiar faces but mostly I saw veiled heads. Suddenly a flashlight lit up under the Connie's chin and she barked out, "Belly up to the Barmaid ladies, we've got enough grog to set us all on our asses!" Connie handed me a small flashlight then looped what I thought was a lei over my head. But upon flashlight examination it appeared to be a small Dollerama water bottle on a string, filled with hard cider. In less than five minutes, everyone had cider and flashlights were spontaneously lighting up like mating fireflies all over the room. I heard the side doorbell ring and zipped back upstairs. Lo and behold, four men stood there in full pirate regalia yelling out, "Trick or Treat!" The first one in, a middle-aged, tall and refined looking introduced himself as Hook with a swish of his huge captain's hat. The second, wearing a Harley Davidson bandana on his head to accent his gray moustache and beard, called himself John, even though he looked a little like Smee. Randy, a fresh-faced younger cabin boy just grinned as he lustfully eyed me sheer cat costume up and down. T.K., wearing a long-coat, eye patch and tight button-fly striped breeches, immediately perked up when he heard the lilt of feminine voices downstairs. Assuming the four were Richelieu River Pirates we could have a little fun at the expense of, I welcomed them to join the party. As I ushered the guys downstairs, Enya sang "Caribbean Blue" through the speakers to the ghostly-lit feminine faces. The foursome clustered back-to-back in true Musketeer fashion under the spinning disco light. Firefly sparkles of all colors teased them with fleeting glimpses of breasts, bellies, bums and pussies peeking through sheer brown netting, feathers and lace. When Louise gave Duffer a loathsome look from across the room, John said to me: "My friends and I have this guy's club where every week we dress up like pirates and sailors. We drink more than we should and swordfight as we sail up and down the Richelieu on a pontoon boat. When our blood pressure gets all up, we go home to pretend rape and pillage our women. For the last six weeks, the women don't want anything to do with us after our meetings. Tonight I saw my old lady, Sophie get all dressed up in that sexy brown suit. So I told the guys we should find out where our women have been going for the last month and a half. We followed them all the way over here from Phillipsburg to see what the hell's going on here and frankly we're all really confused. They tell us they're over playing Euchre and exercising but now we know they're full of shit!" "Oh lighten up, you guys have your club evening and we have ours!" I explained. Duffer returned, "OK, but how come none of them want screw after they get home anymore?" "I guess they're all worn out from the drive, the card playing, the conversation and the exercising." then motioned Connie to give them something to drink, fast! Connie, with her big soft breasts spilled out off her blouse and just kind of flopped there on her serving tray, reached around his neck and hooked him up with a booze bottle like the women. By the time Connie had the third pirate fixed up, refilled and content, they just stood there over against the furnace room wall, watched the women rage on, squealing, dancing and hugging "Cause girls just wanna have fun"! I noticed St. Regis seemed a little confused by what she saw. Suddenly substantial tape hiss entered my ears. Immediately after, I heard Chris Isaak's signature guitar lick reverberate from the loud speakers. As always, I choked up and began to tear when "Wicked Games" echoed through the room. The mirrored disco ball in the center of the ceiling lit up and started to revolve, swirling pinpoints of light throughout the crowd. Out of the darkness sauntered Big Bird, who seemed to have grown a dangly ten inch long dildo-penis between his legs. He put one hand around my back, took my right hand in his left and led me into a slow, sultry dance. As Chris Isaak wailed out the chorus, Louise yelled out "Snowball!" then cut in to dance with me. Doug spun around and pulled Minette from the crowd. Thirty seconds later, after the next chorus, Louise repeated, "Snowball!" She too took a tall beekeeper as a partner. Doug took Althea, Jeanine grabbed Michelle and I pulled out Connie. As I whirled about I noticed Rija had removed her lab coat and was showing off a naughty-nurse outfit with white bustier, white nylons, a tiny tutu skirt with crinoline and what appeared to be a speculum dangling from a golden chain in her cleavage. After the next Snowball I noticed Karla's hospital gown ties were loosened off at the back and all she wore underneath was fishnet stockings with her slippers and a black thong. After the last Snowball, everyone was dancing with someone except for St. Regis who nervously fingered her riot stick. I went up to her brazenly, spread open my arms to her and smiled as I said, "When in Rome..." To my surprise, she accepted my invitation to dance as the song ended. I was ready to back off but Lisa Brokop began to croon "Land of a Thousand Dances" and urged me to step up to her once more. As we danced at a safe distance, she leaned over and whispered, "You know that if this crew of yours ever attempt to cross the border, I could have them all arrested." I bent over and whispered back, "You're out of your jurisdiction here and in a country where it's OK to do stuff like this, aren't you?" She pulled me tight against her, squashing my boobs into hers and spat back, "Maybe so, but I'll bet I've been places in you no one else here has ever been!" I ground my thigh into her crotch and snapped back, "Big Bird, Minnie Mouse and every toy at the disposal of all these Beekeepers have been places you can only fanaticize of, Tough Stuff!" As her eyes glared into mine, I lifted my knee with all the strength I could muster and lifted her up on her tiptoes. "Bitch!" she growled . "Princess!" I returned with a wicked grin and gave her pussy a good kneecap grind before I let her down. In the darkness she slipped her riot stick out of its holster, whipped it up between my thighs! The customs agent pulled me real close to her then jammed the cold leather prod into the crotch of my tights and pushed hard. The tables were definitely turned as her strong steady pressure stretched my pantyhose into me and forced me up on my tiptoes. As the song thankfully ended she gave me a puzzlingly lustful look. "That was the most exciting dance I've ever had, Laura. May I have another before the night is through?" she cooed as she held my hand most tenderly. I had just enough time to nod my head before the crickets began to chirp once again. Louise's hand grabbed mine and spun me around as Lisa began to sing "Better Off Broken". This time tears of joy filled my eyes as I looked around the room. Sparkling light beams, sparkling eyes, sparkling spirits, sparkling sights and the sparkling wine all reflected the splendor of the moment into my misty eyes as I surveyed the room. Everywhere I glanced women were slow dancing and whirling about with their pirates or partners to that forgotten song's melancholy lyrics. I hugged my best friend tight for a while, then since they both knew how important that song's lyrics were to me, I pulled my husband in do dance as an awkward threesome. When it finished, Doug said, "It's time to make your pitch now." He paused the music and I lit my flashlight under my chin. "Ladies, may I have your attention!" I requested in my strongest voice. With all faces watching me, I continued with: "We have gathered you all here together this evening to celebrate freedoms we all have enjoyed these months in this old house. We have developed a close bond amongst us through incidents and pastimes that have flourished inside these walls. At this time I think we should all drink a toast to our hostess Louise, whose example has given us all new direction. Before we get back to some serious partying I must confess that I've been chronicling events of my life in a personal diary. We're planning on converting it into paperback form and hope to earn enough from it's sales to cover house improvements. Since you all are mentioned in the text, I need you all to sign a consent document before you leave." "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" came an outburst from Michelle. "Do any of you people have any idea what Mom here actually writes of?" she asked out then continued, "I think Laura should read a chapter or two out loud for us all to hear so then you'll all know exactly what you're consenting to and be able to consider how much her dirty little diary might effect its readers!" By the time Big Bird dragged his workshop stool out and got me settled, Louise returned back downstairs with my computer. As I brought up my diary on the screen, Connie went around topping up everyone's wine bottles. As she filled mine I noticed the gathered elastic neckline of her blouse had slipped down somewhat. In fact, her big bra-less hooters had completely spilled out onto her serving tray and she was using her considerable cleavage to steady the cider bottle. "Oh well," I thought as I took a sip. Louise lit a flashlight under my chin as I read the introduction and halfway through the first chapter without hardly a pause. However, when I got to the spicier sections, I peeked around to gauge my others' reactions. Similar expressions appeared upon many faces when I recited crucial or pivotal passages. It seemed to me that much of my audience was held spellbound by my words. When I recounted Doug's eating those carrots at the end of my first chapter's narration, giggles, raised eyebrows and agape mouths were the most common reactions, except for Michelle's. The second I closed my notebook, she began: "I for one, am afraid that impressionable people might act rashly after reading Laura's diary. I saw more than one of you tip your candles and stick your fingers in the jars to feel how hot the wax really was. I mean, unstable women might get carried away and do crazy stuff, like say, sitting on her sister, shaving off all her pubic hair, raping her and making a love slave of her thereafter!" I replied, "Do you still think you're going to burn in hell because Amy makes you cum better than Brad?" Amy immediately got right in her face with, "Well do you?" Michelle stared into her eyes for five heartbeats, said, "Yes, but I'm well past the point of caring any longer!" then gave Amy a passionate, soulful kiss on her lips. "Let the good times roll then!" roared Connie and Doug cranked up the music once more. As Emmylou Harris sang "Last Cheater's Waltz" my Big Bird spun me around the dance floor. Everywhere I glanced as we danced I saw glimpses of bare bottoms, triangles of pubic hair and deep pink nipples lurking under those see-through brown suits. I saw dark brown aureoles peeking out of the cups of a bustier, puffy white blouses atop short flippy mini skirts and long sponge swords hint of lusty romps gone by and perhaps more to come. I saw sides of large melon breasts spilled out of the barmaid's blouse squashed from view by a lover's embrace and a beautiful Minnie gasp from my nipple twist as I backed Big Bird up against her. When I saw St. Regis cornered by round little Jeanine, I led my husband over to see what was up. Jeanine showed the Princess into the hot tub room briefly then leaned on the exercise bike room door. As we got within earshot, I heard Jeanine remark to the customs agent how buff she appeared and asked her if she'd liked working out on exercise bikes. As Doug whirled me I lost track of their conversation but by the time I spun back around, the light inside flicked on as the door closed! I left that room to seek out the others but the dance floor was bare. I followed that familiar clickety-click over to my bike room and opened the door a miniscule crack. In the brighter light, I watched Jeanine, minus her headdress and bottoms climb off my bike then usher St. Regis over for her turn. Jeanine jabbered away incessantly, offering coaching and spotting for her first ride as she undid my Customs agent's belt and fly. I was sure the riot stick was about to swing but instead, St. Regis unbuttoned her blouse as Jeanine pulled down the border guard's underwear along with her trousers. Jeanine wiped the dildo clean with alcohol then screwed it down three or four inches for the Princess's first ride. Louise's plump little French girlfriend lubed up the length of the fat rubber penis with KY then without any regard whatsoever for who she was dealing with, wiped her fingers off all over that nasty woman's hairy crotch! Jeanine helped St. Regis up onto the pedals and guided her onto the big knob. St. Regis cautiously scoped out the corona as it parted her dark pink labia but Jeanine slapped her on her bare buttock and said, "Oh just drop on it Honey, it'll make you feel alive." Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 15 Impatient with her apprentice's hesitation, Jeanine placed her hands on St. Regis' hips and just shoved her down onto it!!! The nasty bitch's eyes just about popped out of her head and I was so glad I'd witnessed her shock. "Pedal, pedal, then swivel back and forth hard to get yourself loosened up good!" Jeanine ordered. After thirty seconds or so of twisty pedals, Jeanine told her, "Stand up on the pedals now and pump like you're riding up a steep hill." With her first pump, St. Regis pulled off the dildo on her upsweep. On her freefall the knob smacked hard into her crotch! The springy shaft bent over double, deflected then sprung back up the crack of her ass. As much as I disliked that woman, I really did feel for her pain at that exact second. However, an opportunity to totally embarrass her was too hard to pass up. I rapped twice on the door then just barged in. I told her to stand up straight on the pedals while I checked to see if she was bleeding or bruised then wound the dildo back up to eight inches in length. "She's pretty long-legged Jeanine, so you have to give her more length to make sure it doesn't pop out and hurt her again," I suggested. I guided the springy dildo's corona back against St Regis' vulva, put my other hand on her shoulder then shoved her back down on it 'till her ass hit the seat! As I held her down, impaled and squirming on the thickly tapered out base of the dildo, I handed the Princess her printout and told her to sign it if she knew what was good for her. Revenge was never so sweet! I closed the door behind me then listened to the bubbling sounds emanating from the half-open door of the hot tub room. After a minute or so of triumphant gloating I heard the clickety-click resume. It seemed Jeanine didn't have it out for the Princess and had found someone appropriate to play with. Since I was in the corner, I peeked inside the hot tub room to see what the girls had done in there. There were dozens of apples floating in my Jacuzzi, obviously for some kind of an apple-bobbing contest. When the song was over, I saw Michelle lead Connie and several Bee Keepers, in the process of removing their headwear, toward the tub. As I looked around, I saw Amy lead another group into Doug's workshop, where for the first time, I saw lit candles as well. While Big Bird fiddled with his music, I gave Minnie a hug and squeezed her bum cheeks and then gave her a big sultry kiss. Somebody called out that a drink had been spilled, so while she looked after that, I poked my nose into the workshop. Another four Richelieu Gals had removed their hot headdresses and were sitting with their pirates on folding chairs while a fifth was hanging onto bungee straps attached to the rafters for dear life. Amy was securing her ankles well apart using additional bungee cord loops anchored to the legs of Doug's workbench. When done, she picked up an ordinary little kitchen mixer and plugged it into an extension cord. She plucked a single beater and clicked it into the mixer. Through the blades of the beater, a two-inch wide by ten-inch long strip of ½ inch thick rubbery blue sponge, was crimped. Amy stepped to Minette's side from behind and pulled the billowy nylon mesh suit taut across her breasts with her left hand. With her right, she flicked the blender on low speed. As the lone beater spun, the soft tongues of blue sponge all but disappeared in the candlelight. Amy cautiously inched her whirligig closer until we all heard the smacks. Minette winced as the twin tongues slapped up the underside of her right breast's nipple. After ten seconds or so, Amy maneuvered toward the left nipple. Even in the flickering light we all could see that poor little rock-hard teat crying out for mercy. But no, the smacks resumed once more, flipping and jiggling her left breast berserk! Satisfied she'd accomplished her intent. Amy switched the beater off so we all could observe the results. Both teats were poking hugely erect through their sheer brown veil. But before poor Minette could catch her breath, Amy swooped down, gave her a wedgy from behind and thrust the beater up between her spread thighs! She moaned and squealed, grunted and groaned as the tapered tongues slapped her labia silly. At that point I realized that Rija and Karla were watching intently over my shoulder. Rija spoke out," I think I should examine this poor woman to make sure you haven't damaged her!" She lifted up Minette's top, shone her flashlight all over her breasts then said, "Hmm." She tugged down Minette's pants, crouched down, examined her genitals lightly then split her labia apart with her fingertips and scrutinized them more carefully. Rija ran her fingertips up and then back down Minette's slit, licked her fingertips off then said with authority, "No external trauma is evident, her clitoris is erect, her vagina is quite moist and as such I see no real problem in continuing this novel treatment. However, before any others submit to this, I believe I should volunteer myself, just to make sure this procedure has no serious short term effects." Amy un-looped Minette then re-looped Rija in that alluring spread-eagle position. Amy's blender whipped Rija's dark brown right nipple right out of the low-cut cup of her bustier on its first spin! On her left breast's treatment Amy pulled the flimsy cup down out of the way and spun her up once more. This time Rija winced as the floppy tongues loudly slapped her shiny teats dark burgundy! "Try my right one again." She suggested but her lower jaw shivered in time to the rapid smacks for the whole ten seconds. She gasped for breath anxiously the second Amy stopped. Rija caught her breath after about thirty seconds, humped her hips a little then remarked, "Your nipple abuse technique seems to have created a major tickle down there. Why don't you see if you can find it with your gadget?" The instant Amy's foam tongues licked up her panties' crotch Rija bristled, but as the seconds ticked by, the relentless slaps must have located her itch. As Amy inched her pussy plunderer upward, Rija's eyelids closed in lustful abandon. In little more than a minute, Rija's hips undulated, her knees buckled and then her eyes popped open in obvious post-orgasmic sparkle. Karla helped her to a chair after Amy released Rija from her bonds. Everyone watched with great concern until Rija turned to her brown-eyed friend and said very clearly, "Oh Baby, it was wonderful. If you let her do you, I'll give you your favorite after." Karla's eyes glowed like a cocker spaniel's as she dropped off her hospital gown to show off a cute little stretch-lace bra that perfectly matched her little black thong panties. She slipped her hands through the upper loops, kicked off her slippers then spread her legs so Amy could bungee her to the workbench. Like her previous clients, Amy nipple-whipped Rija's sweet young patient then plundered her to orgasm. When Amy, the Nasty, freed her from her restraints, instead of letting her sit down, Rija, the Gynecologist, hooked her up to her ankle bungee cords the other way around and bent her over Doug's workbench. Rija pushed her thong's crotch out of the way then grumbled that she couldn't see much in the low light, so I switched on the little fluorescent light above the workbench. She checked her friend over carefully with her little flashlight, spread what I assumed was personal lubricant all over her hand and slick as that, shoved it up into Karla's pussy! Rija then proceed to give her the internal examination of the century! As she turned her head to look back at Rija, I saw her puppy dog eyes revert back into the crazed predator eyes of a wolf. St. Regis, visibly shaken, gasped out, "Those eyes, those are the eyes of Satan and I know exactly who you are Karla and you people are all gonna pay dearly for this!' then stomped off up the stairs, out the back door and took off in her car! At that exact second, young Michelle stormed into the room, ranting how that crazy old bitch was ruining her apple bob! She muttered, "Those big Snow apples floating in the hot tub reminded Connie of her breasts floating in a bathtub, so she stripped down to her panties, climbed into the Jacuzzi and is trying to get others to bob for her tits!" She looked around behind me, observed Rija deep fisting her "patient" the sputtered out, "You all should be ashamed of yourselves, you voyeurs, watching some perverted side show!" "Those are fightin' word bitch!" came a reply from Amy, who had drawn her play sword from her belt. "Oh really!" spat back a thoroughly agitated Michelle, who then assumed a defiant, arms crossed stance. With sword pokes just above Michelle's left breast to punctuate each word, Amy replied, "Yes! Really!" That did it. The sisters glared at each other as they squared off. Relatively sure what was coming next, I stepped back toward the remaining dancers, exclaimed, "Cat Fight!" and waved them in. The last of them, Big Bird, shuffled in just in time to witness Rija extract her shimmering wet hand so everyone could observe a fully dilated, well-lubricated vagina with erect clitoris. Suddenly a shriek from Amy drew everyone's attention back to the foray. Michelle had ripped down her sister's blouse and the fight was on! When Amy struck back with her sword in the manner she did, my suspicions were confirmed. The players, costumes and props were all different but the moves and the spoken lines were all identical! The two were re-creating my fourth chapter cucumber and sausage fight with Louise for the amusement of our guests. Move after move, their staging was magnificent. Everyone in the audience was enthralled with their antics, particularly Louise and I. Amy sword-penetrated and pinned Michelle's pussy into their airbed after she pushed her backward down onto it. Using sleight of hand, Amy faked the final impalement by bending the foam shaft over between her boobs. While sliding her hands down the play-sword's shaft, Amy lunged down her upper body. The audience gasped at Michelle's scream when it appeared as if she'd had eighteen inches of foam rammed into her poor vagina. Michelle rolled her eyes back then shook her legs in apparent critical pain! For dramatic effect, Amy held her final position for a good five seconds then straightened up. As she extracted the seven inches of foam sword actually in Michelle's pussy, the sword shaft slowly straightened. The two girls got up off the bed, faced the others, spread out their arms then bowed to their audience. Then Michelle spoke out: "This enactment of the fourth chapter of Laura's diary is exactly why you all should read what she's written about you. This is the second time you've been influenced by Laura's words. Make absolutely sure, in your own mind, that no reader might act out dangerously while under Laura's spell, before you sign." I realized right then and there that Michelle did have a point. While we never seriously damaged ourselves, I accepted that some poor unfortunate could poke something in too deep, burn herself, botch a clitoris piercing or bite something off. So I announced that I would give everyone printouts of their chapters for them to examine before they were to drunk or out of control. I zipped upstairs, grabbed the handouts I'd prepared beforehand then began to distribute them. The dungeon dwellers were easy to do since none had left the room yet. Like sheep for the slaughter, they were all waiting their turns to have their tender bits slapped around and their innards inspected by dirty doctor Rija. Giggles and splashes drowned out the bubbling, so I opened the door to see what was going on. Connie had indeed taken over the apple bob and had altered the concept with her own special twist. She was in the tub, up to her neck in floating, bobbing apples. Amongst the shiny wet Macintosh and Delicious were two off-color Northern Snows. Their stems were much thicker and pinker in color than the others. Two of the Richelieu gals had removed their headgear and were taking turns biting at anything they could reach. Through the bubbles and the froth, Celine finally got her teeth into one of those pinkish ones up near Connie's head. She shook it like a shark then pulled Connie's big bare breast half out of the water! She let that one go then tried to get a piece of the other one, but each time Celine went for it, Connie pulled it back under the water. She lunged five or six more times at it but all she got for her effort was a frothy chin. When she finally threw in the towel, she probably should have kept it. As Celine backed away from the hot tub, her sopping wet, sheer top clung to her breasts and left absolutely nothing to the imagination! Norine put her hands behind her back, bent over and tried her luck. She practiced first, biting at the smaller Macintosh apples and was quite good at grabbing them. Connie watched with interest, studying her style of attack. When Norine went after the big Northern Snows, she was successful only by rolling the apples with her tongue then nipping their stems to get the heavy apples out of the water. When Norine set her sights on the two big floaters, Connie pulled them under, just as she did to Celine. She was fooled twice more by Connie's strategy but on the third try Norine just dove in like an otter, chomped and pulled up her prize! Personally I think Connie put up with all the nipple nips just to see the other women's breasts emerge from the water in those clingy-wet, see-through blouses. To get enough time alone with Connie to pitch my proposal, I told the others that amusing events were unfolding in the dungeon room. To set the mood to my advantage, I locked the door behind me, put my hands behind my back and asked if a cat could play too. Connie raised herself up a little and bobbed her beauties, a little marked near the nipples, but lovely for a woman in her early fifties. As I moved closer, I pursed my lips to show my intent. The apples began to sink but bobbed up again as I hovered over them. Her right had a couple of hickey-like marks, so I chose it first. I sucked her nipple up with my lips, stretched it a little, licked the teat a few times then released it to splash back into the warm water. I gave it a nice little kiss goodbye then spoke of her chapter's contents. When she asked how I knew of their actions that night, I explained how their every word traveled through the chests of drawers under the staircase landing. "So what exactly have you written about me, Laura?" she asked seriously. When I informed her I'd penned virtually every word that was said that evening, every squeak and squawk that we heard plus everything Louise and I did to each other in response to what we heard, Connie didn't look particularly amused. After a moment of reflection, followed by a sigh, both of her breasts submerged then the right one surfaced once more. I replied to her silent request by letting my breasts drop in for a dunk as I sucked up and nibbled her left nipple. When done, I raised up so she could get a good look at my foamy wet boobs then asked her bluntly what it would take for her to sign. Her apples submerged completely once more but after four pounding heartbeats, her pubic mound rose through the foam and scattered the clustered Macintosh apples. As a small clump of matted hair showed through her gauzy white cotton panties, Connie hooked her finger around their crotch and pulled it aside to expose her shimmering wet genitalia. Fully aware of her suggestion, I pulled the wet tights off my head and upper body then climbed into the hot tub with her. Kneeling on its floor, I licked my top lip seductively, lowered my chin into the water, bent forward and speared my tongue right into her fleshy pussy. I swirled my tongue around, slurped it up through her labia and devoured her clitoris. I sucked it and licked it and shook it all about and that's when she croaked, "OK, OK, I'll sign!" Connie reached down, put her hands on my cheeks and said, "No, no, leave something for the others. There's lots more action here for the both of us if we can stand it, my dear, so go unlock that door so we both can get booby-bobbed." Even to me, this sounded pretty outlandish but I heard an uproar come from the dirty dungeon as I reached back and opened the door. I just got back into the far end of the tub in time to hear them chant, "Laura! Laura! Laura! Laura!" as they all filtered back onto the dance floor. It seemed that nipple and pussy slapping was not much of a spectator sport. So to bide the time until their turn came up, all the women read the copies of their chapter and some of the other's as well. Apparently my provocative words had elevated them into mob-frenzy and they were all determined to confront the author!!! Two at a time, every four or five minutes they filed in for their turn at Nipping the Nipple. All of the Richelieu gals were kind to Connie, but Rija, Amy and that Michelle were just plain mean!!! Much to Connie's delight, the three ganged up on her, stretching her teats and leaving teeth marks all over her aureoles. When Althea entered the room, a little fit of jealousy came over her when she saw her private territory being despoiled. To attempt revenge on her out of control lover, Althea made a great scene of really giving my boobs a going over. Little did she know that Connie was extracting a little lover's revenge on her under the blanket of floating apples. As Althea passionately and demonstratively devoured my nipples, Connie was trying her best to bury her big toe through my tights and into my pussy! Not one to be out-done, I returned the favor. But my big toe managed to get up inside the leg of Connie's panties, wriggle itself in and take its next little toe with it. I couldn't see Connie for Althea, but I knew she loved the sneakiness of it all, just as much as me. I just kept on givin' it to her and she kept givin' it back. Occasionally my toe would get tangled up in her panties so I'd jamb a bit of them into her too. Introduced to my panties fetish, we were a pair of like minds and we were up to no good. My toes poked, wiggled and jabbed away with great fervor and inexcusable lust! Her toes pushed, jiggled and rubbed away with equal passion through my stretched tights. When I popped mine out and scuffed her clitoris with it, Connie squeezed her legs together, but I just kept on wiggling. Althea peeked around several times at her partner, but Connie kept a poker face, even when her thighs started to tremble. She kept that deadpan expression as she humped away at my foot, even after her nipples stiffened in orgasm! Connie's flushed face alarmed Althea, who suggested she'd been in the hot water too long. She helped her rubbery-legged mate out of the tub and dried her off but seemed a little confused over her lover's disheveled underwear. Althea quickly toweled over her panties to cover up those loose labia lips then frowned back at me. I just faked an expression of disbelief and shrugged my shoulders in mock surprise to keep my little signing bonus a secret. All alone in the tub, I attempted to climb out but was pushed back under the water. It seemed that since Connie had deserted her post, Michelle felt it was my duty to continue debauching her apple bob. As I soon found out, most of the others felt they were entitled to retribution for what I'd written about them. Twelve more women took their turns abusing my breasts and by the time they were done with me, my boobs felt like they'd been through a wringer. There were nips and hickeys all around my nipples and my perpetually erect teats were in a state of shock. St. Regis was the last to leave and to my surprise only gave my girls tender little kisses. I was relieved she didn't ravage them like a bull terrier. But as the Princess left her signed waiver, she said with a sardonic smile: "This evening has been great. Seeing you in your own element has made it crystal clear what motivated our first meeting. Jeanine has opened my eyes to what goes on here and wants me to become a member of the Richelieu River Pirates ladies association. It's not much further for me to get to work from here, so keep a room open for me on Cards Nights." Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 15 I pulled my perplexed, waterlogged body out or the tub, shut down the jets, wrestled the cover back on and shut out the lights. I blew out the remaining candles but let the bike room be after hearing clickety-clicks through the door. Whispers and rustles came from Amy and Michelle's dungeon room so I said out loud, "Blow out all the candles before you call it a night girls." As I trudged upstairs, I found the living room sofas and chairs all reclined with occupants. On the second floor I found every door open and every bed, chair and sofa in use. The attic door however, was closed so I slipped quietly up around the landing. I was quite unprepared for what I saw when my eyes were drawn to the nightlights beside our bed. On the right side of the bed sat up Minnie, minus her ears, filing her nails. On the extreme left side of the bed sat up Big Bird, minus his mask, with his legs crossed. "Did they all sign?" asked the Bird, to whom I nodded. As I walked closer, the Mouse's jaw dropped then said, "Oh you poor thing, do your boobies hurt as bad as they look?" "I told you all your mischief would come back and bite you on your tit someday, didn't I," the bird observed out loud. Minnie eased out of the bed, said, "Let Louise fix, as soon as you get out of those wet tights. I peeled down the tights, threw them in the shower then she toweled down my withered lower body. That familiar man in orange tights patted the center of the bed beside him. By the time I slid my puckered butt over, Louise climbed in on the other side of me, with my bottle of Intensive Care. She pumped a circle of cream atop each of my breasts then began to spread it all over my ravaged left breast. My husband propped up on his left elbow, took great notice of Louise's circular massage patterns. He reached over then circled my right breast in exactly the same manner. When the lotion began to drag, Louise had me hunch over then squirted cream all over my back. As before, she and then Doug spread the lotion all over my shoulders back and arms. When done, he told me to lie on my belly so they could do my backside. I complied, felt the cool squirts dribble across my buttocks and down the backs of my legs. In unison once more, they smeared my bum, my thighs, my calves and even the soles of my feet. When Louise one-upped my husband by saturating each toe individually, I nearly cried "Uncle", but managed to contain myself when Doug's big fingers followed suit. Suddenly a slap on my bottom with an, "Over!" directed me to flip over onto my back. They finished off tormenting my feet then Doug took his turn with the pump. Cool squirt after cool squirt, he worked his way up my legs, around my navel then signaled his obvious intention as I felt several splats dribble my pubes. They started at my ankles, swept up and shivered my knees. They massaged up my thighs, all over my abdomen then stopped! In perfect harmony, they both nudged my legs apart. To my left I watched Louise's eyes follow her left hand as it smeared the slippery lotion down over my pubic mound and into my vulva. To my right, Doug squirts even more crème all over that massively enhanced and fully erect penis of his. Oh my......... Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 16 Dear Dirty Diary, A snore from my husband interrupted my sleep and when soft dreamy music and squeals of delight floated into my ears, my eyes popped open. I concentrated, trying to locate its source. Doug was sound asleep, as he should be at 1:18 in the morning. I most carefully slid out of bed, so as not to disturb him and tiptoed downstairs toward the sounds. I paused at Louise's bedroom door but the music came from further down the hall. Carefully avoiding every creaky floorboard, I crept along the hallway and listened at each door. The music and giggles were definitely emanating from Louise's little den, so I peeked through the old door's keyhole to see what was happening. The room was in darkness but over in the corner, the TV clearly showed a naked woman playing with herself! The flickering light of the TV screen illuminated a relaxing Louise, reclined back on her sofa. The movie looked considerably more interesting than my sleeping husband, so I turned the doorknob to see if it was locked. To my surprise, it wasn't and creaked open on me. A startled Louise spun her head to see me, so I rose up and croaked, "I heard your TV and came down to keep you company." As I went to sit beside her, the TV lit up her white thighs under her hiked-up nightgown. Humming away in her pussy was a complex-looking purple vibrator. I turned in embarrassment for so stupidly invading her privacy, but she grabbed my arm and cooed, "Don't go." Louise confessed that she couldn't sleep and when she heard Doug's snoring, decided that soft music and moaning women's voices might lure me down to sooth her restlessness. She patted the cushion beside her and coaxed me to stay by telling me that the movie was one of those low budget "Home alone" videos. As I reclined my seat back, Louise hiked her nightgown higher and pulled out the vibrator. She offered it over to me, shiny wet, with its knob flailing about wildly and said, "I'm already all shook up, I suppose it's a girl's duty to offer her new purple wiggly to her lover." Who was I to argue with logic like that? I tugged up my nightgown and let her push its fat wriggling head against my vulva. I sighed just like the woman on the screen as I felt that guided missile rumble into my little silo. I licked my fingertips and then sent my inspection crew down to Louise's silo. The missile had been locked in her pre-launch countdown for way too long. The vibrations on the walls of her silo had rendered them sloppily unstable and since she aborted her launch, her silo doors were jammed obscenely open. Therefore, I decided the best course of action was to stabilize her silo by concentrating my efforts on its entrance. I got up, turned around and kneeled close to her on the sofa. Lurking beneath the shrubbery just above her silo, I located her little launch button. I licked and sucked the button, but my inspection crew informed me that her doors were still ajar. I called in an additional work crew so that both sides could be worked upon at the same time. The work was labor-intensive and my tongue was feeling fatigue, so I reached between my thighs and pushed the missile's side-mounted booster engine against my launch button to give me energy. That done, my button felt vibrantly alive! I felt the rocket's powerful engines shake my silo mercilessly as I lashed away at Louise's button. Suddenly I felt her little finger find and push my swollen launch button down against that terrible tickling booster. In a matter of seconds, my slippery silo squeezed down with such force on the missile, that it launched it right out into the atmosphere! During one of my bunker implosions, my overzealous work crews found the key to releasing Louise's silo doors. By spreading them as far as possible, while sucking on her launch button in a frenzied fit of passion, a similar chain of implosions inside Louise's bunker stabilized her silo and sealed up its doors! After catching our breaths, we celebrated our successful launches by snuggling back in Louise's bed. However, one French kiss led to another, our nightgowns fell off and we ended up sucking and licking each other's tender bits till our tongues were exhausted. Only then did a mutual need to pee break up our little love fest. After, I thought it best to go back with my husband, but as I opened her door, she whispered, "Won't Doug be upset with us spending half the night together?" I told her not to kid herself because he was every bit as perverted as either of us. I pointed out that he'd read all about us in my diary and was OK with everything, primarily because he was physically excited by sexual women. I told her I had only to crawl back into bed with him, hold his head in my hands and give him a juicy French kiss. With my lips and my fingers smelling of pussy, I assured her he'd have an erection for the rest of the night and halfway through the next morning! True to my words, I gently woke Doug up getting back into bed, slipped in my smelly, tangy, tongue and gave him a little penis squeeze for good measure. When I awoke at 7:30, soft puppy dog eyes were staring at me and there was this cute little tent in the covers. I gave it a squeeze and a crank around and then told him to get up and have a pee before it exploded. I hurried him along, telling him Louise was preparing a special crepes breakfast. By the time we got halfway down the stairs, he could stand up straight and had obviously lost his erection. I was determined to prove my point, no matter what. I reached behind me, thrust my hand through Doug's robe and pulled his penis out through his pajamas' fly. I pulled him along by it down the stairs and then I turned around and backed down the last step. I bent over, pushed his foreskin back and sucked his semi-erect penis into my mouth! It was sweaty, smelly and rather disgusting tasting, but I licked and sucked it clean anyway. Quite proud of myself, I grabbed his stiff penis tightly, told him it was time for breakfast and led him down the hall to the kitchen like a pull-toy. On the last step before entering the kitchen, I shoved it back into his pajamas and fluffed his robe over his impressive bulge. At that exact second in my devious little mind, it somehow made perfect sense to "share and share alike" the dirty penis taste on my tongue. I brazenly poked my salty tongue into Louise's mouth. I swirled my tongue all around hers with devilish delight as I nudged my knee into her crotch! When I broke off my embrace, I motioned to her, beside me and down with my eyes and whispered, "Check out the bulge if you don't think he's loving all this!" I spun around to my astonished husband and thrust my tart little tongue into his gaping mouth then sidestepped a little so Louise could see his erection. Doug poked a stiff index finger into my breast and whispered back, "Your wicked games have come back already and bit you on the tit a whole bunch of times, so don't cry to me if it hurts the next time!" ------------------------------------------------- By the time we finished supper that evening, my confused lovers had recovered from my rude morning prank and we relaxed with a movie rental. On the big living room sofa and with me in my rightful place between them, we watched "Chocolat". Near the end of the film, when river gypsy Roux returned to Vianne, Louise looked over at Doug and said, "Is it just me or does she remind you of Laura?" He stared at the screen for a second, then reflected, "Wearing that dress and with her hair all fluffed up like that, I suppose Laura could pass for Juliette Binochet's older sister." In the scene where the battered wife was depicted successfully operating her ex-husband's bistro, I peered over at Louise and said, "There's something about Josephine's character development that reminds me of you." Doug remarked, "Maybe in character, but I think she could pass better for Lena Olin's older, dark-haired sister." While the Lena Olin in Louise was flattered by his comparisons, the Joan Rivers in me blurted out to him, "So if you see me as an aging Juliette Binochet and Louise as an aging Lena Olin, then how I see you more as a Colin Mochery than an aging Johnny Depp?" To my great surprise, Louise took my wounded ego husband under her wing with, "Here in Quebec, lots of guys look like Johnny Depp. I know lots of women around that have really been hurt by pompous, pony-tailed, St Lawrence River Pirates, that would love a thin-haired mature friend who looks like a famous "Whose line is it?" funny man, sharing their house!" The two of them looked so smug there, thinking their pathetic little show of solidarity might give them strength against me. To nip this alliance in the bud, I pushed in between them, broke up their curious embrace and forced myself into the center of things, where I rightfully belonged. It was obvious the Bird and the Mouse should be taught to beware the green eyes of Laura, the Lion! ------------------------------------------------ A week or so later, Louise and I were doing our early morning aerobic workout in the basement when she took a muscle spasm and set off her sciatic nerve She nursed it most of the morning but by early evening she was in dire straits. It suddenly occurred to me that the "ET" massager might loosen up her buttock and leg. I brought it down to her sitting room and had her lay on the sofa on her side. I ran the madly thumping bullet eyeballs up and down the backside of her leg, calf and buttock. After ten minutes of therapy she seemed more relaxed, so I broadened my motions as I prepared to stop. On a loose pass, the bouncy head skated across her buttock and slipped over down the crack of her bum. "Right there, right there!" she cried out. I held it positioned so one bullet was pummeling her anus. She pulled her leg up, allowing better access to her bum hole. The second bullet was bouncing harshly on her spine so I slid the massager down so the upper bumper settled in her anus. All was fine and dandy for a while. Louise was relaxed, had closed her eyes and seemed quite content. The massager however, was fairly heavy and somewhat unyielding so I turned its head slightly to lessen my burden. Wouldn't you know, Dr. Ho's clever design was anatomically friendly. Not only did the twin bumper bullets fit perfectly into her anus and vulva at the same time, the peculiar curvature of the handle was perfectly shaped to allow the vibrator to pummel both tender bits with very little effort on the part of its user. Louise was truly traveling in another dimension as she took control of the wand. She simply lay there and blissfully took it like a woman in both holes at the same time. She didn't want me to touch it or take control of her enjoyment. She just wanted to enjoy herself, alone! I tried to respect her private moment as best I could, but of course I failed miserably. I kneeled beside her sofa on the floor, nibbled hot breaths into her ear. Then I located her most accessible nipple through her tank top and milked it like a cow's teat. She tried her best to ignore me but the brat in me finally burst through her defenses. She sat up really quick, spun around in a flash and planted ET's eyeballs into me where the sun doesn't shine! I just about hit the roof when those alternating thumpers gyrated my gynography. She pushed my shoulders down with her left forearm, swung her left knee into the sofa cushion and leaned on me so the only air I could breathe came from between her wide spread thighs. The scent of her hot wet pussy was overpowering and all consuming as she pinned me down. However, the pummeling of my private parts was equally enjoyable. In its own way, lustful self-gratification seemed appropriate under the circumstances. I channeled all my thoughts down to my crotch while examining the wicking action of Louise's hot pink cotton panties. I really wanted to reach out six inches with my tongue and taste that glistening patch but I had to settle for just enjoying its aroma. I'm sure the tremulous quakes rapidly oscillating my nether regions must have rated high on the Richter scale for the valley between my shaking thighs was surely being devastated. My lower sinkhole began emitting sulfurous gasses and my cavern threatened to geyser! The tender stalagmite at the top of my cave succumbed to the ground shaking tremors. Hot lava from within domed up my precipice as well as the two mountain peaks over the next plain! The three domes eventually diminished in stature back to their previous state, then the countryside came to rest once more. Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 17 Dear Dirty Diary, Giggles and whispers filtered through into my recurrent dream staring Johnston. His big black penis stood fire hose stiff as I tore the wrapper off the extra large condom I took out of my purse. As I rolled the slippery latex sheath down his extraordinary erection, I was delighted to find it fit perfectly right down to its base. I cranked his seatback lower, whipped my jeans and panties off, swung my left leg over and straddled him. I centered the head of his penis in my pussy, and then let my shaking knees relax. His big knob popped in somewhat uncomfortably, but that ever-thickening hot shaft seared through my vulva as I dropped further and further down upon him. Muffled laughter shattered my concentration and Johnston evaporated instantly! As my eyes fluttered in the morning light, my ears tracked the source of the interruption down the stairs to Louise's apartment. I stretched and got up to pee, but as I scooted to the toilet, I swore I heard a small bell ring between my legs. When I wiped myself, I heard that tiny ring once more. I bent over double, looked down at my pubes and couldn't believe my eyes. A small round bell seemed to be tied to my clit ring by a cute little red satin bow. When I flicked it with my fingertip, it jiggled my clitoris madly around as it jingled. I tugged on the bow's strings but it refused to unravel. My foggy brain tried its best to recollect how I got into this predicament. I remembered that last night Louise and Doug kept pouring me glass after glass of the champagne for toast after toast, to our first New Year's Eve in Quebec. I recollected them changing me into my nightgown and putting me to bed. I vaguely recalled Louise kissing me goodnight on my lips and doing something ticklish to my pussy, then nothing else, except for waking up. I searched back through my memories of the last few days but remembered nothing odd except for my computer! For the last week, Louise and Doug had been playing "Jeopardy" while I watched my soaps. When I shut off the TV, I'd hear their chatter. By the time nosy old me climbed up all the stairs to our loft, they'd have finished off their game. Yesterday however, my show wasn't on so I hurried upstairs to play with them. I heard Louise gasp, "Oh my God!" and Doug snort as I rounded the last landing. I called out to them to set up a three-player game so we all could play as I climbed the last six steps. As I walked toward them, I saw Doug busily setting up the game, while a curiously blushing Louise pushed over a chair for me. I recalled noticing that MS Word was showing on my computer's task bar but didn't think to wonder why. When we finished our game, Doug quickly shut down the computer and said to Louise, "So, what are we going to do about that damn cat's stalking?" Louise replied, "I think putting a bell on her would teach her a lesson." That recollection set off the bell of realization in my head! I realized that my husband and girlfriend were in together in this conspiracy! I got up from the toilet and paced around the attic from window to window to focus my emotions. The bell must have been heavier than Louise's locket for it jiggled and jingled constantly as I walked. Of course all that did was to divert all my attention away from my plotting directly back onto my clit. I pulled my nightgown's hem up tightly between my legs to stifle that infernal ringing. I figured tight panties would keep it under control until I could get the ribbons cut off, so I headed for my underwear drawer. As I pulled up my nightgown, I caught the reflection of the bow and bell dangling between my legs and it came to me exactly how to punish them. Instead of retaliating, I decided it would be much more effective teasing them. Out of my drawer, I pulled my favorite beige half-slip and my lace-top nylons. I rolled up each stocking and then carefully stretched them up my legs. A tickle began just above my knees and shivered right up the inside of my thighs into the base of my clit as I smoothed up my nylons. I tugged the half-slip's elastic waistband up and over my breasts and then spun it around so the lacy split in its hem displayed my festively decorated pussy perfectly. I purposely left my hair messy to enhance my entrance. I put on my pink fur slippers; a pair of big hoop earrings and set off downstairs. Clomping down the steps set all my tender bits into motion. My nipples stiffened when my heaving breasts rubbed them against the cool nylon slip and the jingling bell jerked my clit mercilessly every step of the way. By the time I got down to the hallway, I was aroused! Not just a little nipply, not just a little goose bumpy, I was all charged up and ready to shock! Always the actress, I figured a disheveled appearance would enhance my entrance, so I pushed down one stocking a bit, pulled down my slip so part of one aureole was showing and messed up my hair a bit. I held my hand to my forehead and squinted in fake pain as I giggled into Louise's den. Before I even caught their eyes, I whined out that I had the worst hangover ever. I bitched to them that I was shivery, my knees felt wobbly and my ears rang whenever I walked. I kept my hand up over my brow so I could peek at them without their noticing. When I plopped my butt down hard on the arm of her sofa, the bell jingled, so I immediately groaned that my ears were ringing again. Doug's eyes just about popped out of his head and Louise blushed from head to toe. They shot looks back and forth to each other a couple of times. Doug shrugged to Louise, not knowing what to do next. Louise composed herself, looked directly down at my pubes and said out as cool as a cucumber, "Oh look Laura, you seem to have caught something on yourself." She reached out to the bow and continued, "Here, let me get it off for you." Of course, the damned thing wouldn't come undone and every time she pulled at the bow, the bell jingled. When she said, "Doug, get me the scissors so I can snip this off," he just rolled his eyes and blushed. A horrified look swept across his face as Louise knelt down with the pointy little cuticle scissors. When she pulled the bow to get at the knot, she immediately remarked, "Say, you're pretty juicy for someone in such dire straights!" As I dropped my hand away from my forehead, a grin spread across my face and I told them, "You two may think this was cute, but you're about to find out why it's not smart to fool with Laura, the Lion! With that, I pushed away her scissors, smoothed up my stockings and straightened up my slip. I stood up proud and tall and then sauntered out of the room. I purposely stomped upstairs so the bell would ring with each step. Halfway up, I stopped and called back down, "Sleep with one eye open and watch your backs!" By the time I jingled around the landing, they had raced up close behind me. I took it for granted they'd both be looking up under my slip, so I wiggled my hips up the last few steps to give them a good show of my jiggling bare bottom. I led them across our room like sheep to the slaughter. I put my "Gypsy" flamenco CD on, sat Doug down in the recliner and Louise at the opposite end of the love seat. Like two bad children, they nervously awaited their scolding. Instead, I heated up and brought us all hot chocolate and cookies. I plopped down between them, purposely pulled up my legs and sat cross-legged to make them lust over their handiwork. Just to make sure I had their complete attention, I wiggled my butt to get settled. That, of course, made the little bell jingle. I felt like a keynote speaker bringing her audience to order. It seemed I had the floor, so I cleared my throat and went straight to the point. I told Doug that I was unhappy with him for showing Louise my private Diary and told Louise I was disappointed in her for using my private fantasies against me. Doug immediately rose to their defense and pointed out, "I disagree entirely with your privacy issue. If the relationship between the three of us is to succeed, there must be no jealousy and no secrets!" Louise nodded in agreement and added, "Let's face it, this whole situation revolves around our love for you, but in reading your diaries, we realize that it takes both of us to satisfy your needs. You are a sexual obsessive by your own admission, so we've joined in this alliance to feed your lust and keep you from harm. I felt my face blush as Doug continued, "Louise and I have agreed that the best way to cope with our petty jealousies is to share you collectively as well as separately." Louise took my hand, smiled earnestly at me and finished with, "Keep these hands typing and leave your thoughts and desires open to us in your Diary so we satisfy your every need." When I looked over to my husband, he nodded in agreement, leaned over to me and kissed my cheek. I turned back to Louise just in time to feel her soft lips kiss my other cheek. Still feigning a pout, I pondered what was said for a moment then decided they probably were right. I looked my husband's face up and down and then leaned over toward him. I swung my arm around his neck and planted a big juicy kiss on his lips. "Share and share alike," I thought as I finished our kiss and then leaned over to Louise. I gave her an equally soulful kiss to sign our pact as Doug watched on. When I was finishing that kiss, I peeked back over to my husband who was wearing a most unsettling expression of wonderment. I released my embrace with her and had just started to give him another lush kiss, when I felt Louise's pearly teeth nibble on my earlobe. I opened my eyes in surprise and saw Doug watching what she was doing. When I broke off his kiss and gave her another kiss, I felt his lips suck my other earlobe. I peaked down and noticed a bulge in the old fart's pajama bottoms. My eyes flashed back to Louise and noticed definite nipple growth poking out her satin tunic. I thought a little more about this sharing thing they talked me into and realized they were prepared to share me right then and there! I threw all caution to the wind, peeled down my slip's waistband and bared both of my breasts. I cupped my hand under and pushed up my left boob for Doug. He accepted my offering immediately, bent over it and sucked my nipple in between his lips. I lifted my right one up for Louise and she in turn, slurped in my other teat. It was a pleasant new experience, having both teats sucked simultaneously. Like nursing twins, I thought as I let them have their way with me. I bobbed my head back and forth, pecking sweet little kisses on the heads of my lovers. I closed my eyes to concentrate on the subtle differences of their techniques. Surprisingly, the sensations I felt in each teat began to mimic each other's rhythm back and forth, sort of like that "Dueling Banjos" song from "Deliverance". The moment after I felt Louise's touch inside my right knee, I felt a similar caress from Doug, further up my left thigh. Then four trails of cool fingertips slid right up my left inner thigh, a split second after shivery long shivery fingernails tickled up my right nylon. I turned my head to the right and my lips met Louise's. As her tongue split the lips of my mouth, her fingertips split the lips of my labia. Her tongue darted all around the inside of my mouth in passionate play while her finger pressed into my vulva. Seconds after her busy little finger made my pussy slurp, it was joined by a thicker, cooler finger from a different direction. The two fingers swam about in harmony, seemingly playing with each other as they played within me. She inserted a second finger, thickening the busy cluster. When Doug too, added a second fat finger to the melee, it felt like a nest of snakes writhing around inside my vagina. I opened on eye to peek at Louise and swore I caught her making eye contact with Doug behind me. Her dark eyes glowed with devilry as I felt her fingers still their gyrations, hook deeper through my vulva and then pull. As if on some telepathic signal, they both began to draw apart my vulva. The rush of coolness I felt in my vagina told me they had me spread wide open. It felt good for a second, but the sharp sting of fingernails ruined the moment. "Children!" I exclaimed: "That's not a wishbone down there for you two to make a wish on! If you want a tasty New Years turkey, you have to prepare it properly. You can start by helping this old bird over to that nice queen-size bed where I could be prepared more amicably." With the three of comfortably reclining on the bed, I sat up, spread my arms back for support and continued, "My recipe calls for the bird, to have all packaging materials removed." Louise lifted up and pulled off my slip while Doug peeled down my stockings. "Salmonella poisoning is a real threat, so the bird must be thoroughly washed," I remarked and off to the shower I went. The glass walls of our big neo-angle shower fogged up easily, so I kept the temperature a little on the cool side to ensure my chefs a good show, as I lathered up my breasts, belly, legs and pussy. Out of the shower, Doug toweled me dry while Louise blew my hair dry. "Since I'm not one of those butter-ball turkeys, you'll have to prepare me the old fashioned way," I quipped. I spread my bath sheet out in the middle of the bed, crawled over on it, stretched out face down and said, "Doug, you'll have to baste my backsides with olive oil while Louise prepares the stuffing." Obediently, my husband spread oil over my shoulders and down my back. Louise looked perplexed as she said, "Maybe Irish families have a different way of stuffing their fowl so I'm not quite sure how to wad the bread crumbs in." I told her she needed something a lot stiffer than breadcrumbs to stuff this turkey with. To be more specific, I heard myself say: "We're four generations here in Canada now, but in me mother's kitchen, fresh carrots and celery stalks were used in the stuffin'. At me father's delicatessen, kielbasa sausage and peppers were used in the turkey stuffin'. In me cousin Shannon's kitchen in Londonderry Ireland, she told me that during the troubled times, some rebellious Catholic girls near her neighborhood used to pick up the rubber bullets shot off by the British troops, clean them off, lift up their skirts and stuff their pussies with them, right there and then for the soldiers to see! But in this multi- cultural Canadian society we have grown up with, it's my duty to respect all traditions. I'm sure me husband's quite capable of supplying the sausage so I'll leave it up to you to try out anything that might fit." By the time me darlin' Dougie had me breasts, belly and pussy shinin' with olive oil, I heard Louise start up the stairs. The morning sun glowed golden on Doug's light auburn body hair. His baggy beige boxer shorts exaggerated his belly and love handles but his freckled arms and legs had dramatically slimmed down from all those cardio-rehab exercises. With his double chin and cheeks all tightened up, he was looking more like Colin Mocherie every day. His thin, shortly trimmed and faded red hair, made his head seem pointed and his ever-prominent sun-tanned nose appeared almost beak-like for an instant. As he waddled toward the bed it occurred to me that he resembled a great golden ostrich in the dust-sparkled sun. In the same dreamy state of mind, my eyes watched Louise clomp her huge furry slippers up the last few steps. As she ambled toward us, I watched her pale-pink, puffy-sleeved, mini nightgown wave behind her. As she reached the foot of the bed she passed out of the sunlight and gave something to Doug as my eyes desperately adjusted to their shaded images. In doing that, I picked up the silhouette of two fan blades behind her in the kitchen, which appeared as mouse ears on both sides of her head I felt doubly blessed when Big Bird sat down on my right and Minnie Mouse on my left. In a squeaky voice that sounded exactly like Minnie Mouse she announced, "I have no celery and I have only frozen carrot slices. However, I do have this excellent rubber bullet you know quite well." When he flopped down on his back, close beside me, I craned my head over toward him and saw that he was wearing the Devil's Dick penis enhancer. I ran my thumb across the ribs and exaggerated folds then immediately concluded that my Big Bird's rumpled foreskin had to be the most repulsive thing I'd ever seen and I had to have it! Big Bird slipped in under my left side, nudged my leg up in his usual fashion and poked his stiff hot penis into my pussy. As he began his usual thrusts, Minnie whipped off her nightgown crawled over to my right side and began to trace her fingertip all around my vulva. Using Big Bird's patented technique, she slipped her fingertip into me beside his penis then began slow circles around it, as well as pokes between each of his strokes while sucking my right nipple. After a few excruciating moments of that torture, she removed her finger, eased her lithe little right leg between Big Bird and I, planted her slippery tongue in my mouth then began to hump her pubic mound against mine. Big Bird continued pumping but on one long stroke I felt his penis slip out. I guess the silly old fool didn't realize he wasn't in me anymore because of his lack of sensation through the padded sheath. He just kept pumping away like a little steam pink engine. I should have said something but my tongue was still playing touch tag with Minnie's, so I just let it ride. After a few more strokes I noticed Minnie's exhales through her nose were becoming labored, bordering on snorts, and were occurring at exactly the same frequency as Big Bird's thrusts! Suddenly I felt my girlfriend's tongue slurp out of my mouth then watched her stab it into my husband's mouth! Well didn't that make a full circle of things! Then he grabbed the base of his dick and was taking turns poking into me on one stroke while he prodded against Louise on the next thrust! On his second last retraction I heard my pussy slurp shamelessly but on Doug's following thrust I heard Louise's grunt, followed by a more diminutive slurp. Oh poor Louise, he'd punched the Devil's Dick into her as well! I quietly took the Devil's plunges like a woman but Louise moaned like she hadn't savored the agony of a Great Gnarly ever before! Both of our pussies slurped with lust as he dredged our sap from one to another and back again! Louise had thrust her slim hand between our pussies and her tiny fingertips were fingering both of our clits at the same time as Doug pounded into us! Oh my! Oh my!! Oh my!!!....... ************************* In the year following the completion of that year's diary, Doug underwent triple bypass surgery, is fit as a fiddle and has taken on a physically challenging job to remain healthy. Both of my children moved to Taiwan to teach English. So we three moved back into the condo after Louise sold her house in Quebec to Rija, who converted it into a private club. Menopause pounced, leaving me way too hot flash prone to ever be sexually touched again by Doug's newly hot-blooded hands. I amuse myself these days by sending personalized literary encores to appreciative readers who would care to contact me, promoting my multi-media CD version of "Dear Dirty Diary" and developing the "Adorable Laura Tender Comforts Pillow", a replica of my torso that Doug sculpted out of upholstery foam which fits unobtrusively into a pillow case. But every once in a while, when I'm amongst my peers in this small town, I smirk to myself as I remember what a year that was. If they all knew my wicked little secret! Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 18 Dear Diary, After our children left for China, Doug and I had to move back into our big vacant marina condo. I convinced Doug, right after Louise sold her Quebec house, to let the poor lost soul move in with us as a border who could help with expenses. She is as vibrant as ever but my husband has become someone I'm not sure I know any more. His recovery from that heart bypass operation last year was swift, to the point of being almost immediate. The day after, his pulse was strong and his eyes had mystically turned dark blue. Something about Lipids, I was told later. For several months he seemed troubled and listless, contemplating God knows what, exercising constantly and nosing about. At Louise's Inn he'd been primarily a voyeur. But now that he's back home Doug's become an insatiable dirty old man! He tries so hard to prove that he's fit, strong and virile, but I just can't forgive him for his indifference in the past. I know now that he feared for his life each time we had sexual intercourse before his heart attack, but during that period I found someone considerably more skillful at satisfying my cravings. So here I am now, still loving and lusting for my sweet Louise while my husband of 26 years drives us both nuts, attempting to regain his mojo! Dear Dirty Diary, Last week I was rummaging through my son's old toy chest. I found a box of GI Joe action figures and a carton of Hot Wheels miniature cars. I washed all the dust and grime from them all in the dishwasher then began to pack them all back into new plastic storage containers. My husband Doug came along, picked up a bright orange Dodge Charger with a Confederate flag on the roof. He began to zoom it around through the folds in our bedspread. His road race moved closer and closer to me as I sat on the bed polishing my twenty-five year old son's old toys. Mike's been teaching in Taiwan for some time now and I miss him dearly, but I do relish our empty-nester lifestyle these days. On one careen across the bedspread Doug muttered, "Yee Haw!" as he jumped "General Lee" over and landed it down my left ankle. He swirled the little car up my shin, veered down the outside of my calf to my foot, then crossed over and zipped back up the inside of my calf. The second the tiny wheels tickled across the inside of my knee and up under my skirt I clamped my legs together tightly on his wandering hand! It was too late, however. A shiver ran across my thighs, then around and up my back up to the nape of my neck. It traveled back down over my shoulder blades, traced back down and froze my nipples ice hard! The old bugger grabbed up a dark blue Mustang GT and with his other hand spun it up and around my swollen right nipple. I gasped as he bumped the Shelby over and back across my chest! Unperturbed by my squeals, Dirty Doug then drove a circular pattern up my left wrist and wheeled lightly up the inside of my forearm then circled that ultra sensitive little area opposite my elbow, sending another shrieking shiver through me! Curious to see how far his little game would spread, I pulled off my dress and then rolled over onto my belly on our bed. With all that expanse of bare skin to torture, he scooted the tiny Mustang down my right leg then across the sole of my foot for another squeal from me. He tickled back the inside of my thigh but in spite of the protection of my panties, I moaned in delight as he goosed my bum! He roared up and down, around and back across my most ticklish zones, growling little boy car engine noises. As he drove down the back of my left thigh, I heard a creak at our bathroom door and my girlfriend Louise called out, "What in hell is he torturing you with this time, Laura?" as she walked into our bedroom wearing her short little terry bath robe. Doug just grinned like the bad little boy he is and continued on as if she wasn't there at all. Louise sat down on the other side of our big king size bed saying, "That looks like fun, so let's make it rally race." Louise picked up a black Interpol Citroen SM from Michael's toy box and I felt her gently skim it up across my shoulder blade, up the side of my neck, across the back of my neck then back down the other side. Anxious for the impending onslaught, I called out, "Let the challenge begin!" Another "Yee Haw!" came from my husband, who grabbed back the orange Charger, while my lithe bisexual lover mimicked the subtle Maseratti engine growl and the practice lap was on! General Lee roared as it zipped up the back of my leg then wailed as he jumped over my buttocks in true "Dukes of Hazzard" tradition, while Louise's European police car clung across the contours of my ass. They flew up my back and crossed over my shoulders then sped flat out down my back. Again the big Dodge hit my nicely rounded ass and went airborne but the Citroen took the path of least resistance and I flinched as it hunkered down through the crack of my ass! Swiftly overtaking my husband, Louise's driving allowed the superior handling Citroen to tickle down the inside of thigh then effortlessly negotiate the hairpin turn just past my heel. She accelerated aggressively up the inside of my leg then braked suddenly near the top of my inner thigh. Louise's wheels crawled across my genitalia but no tickles were to be felt! The double crotch of my panties had insulated my tender bits from the tickles I was looking so forward to. "Whoa, whoa!" I grumbled, pushing my panties down my thighs. I grabbed the big pillow that I keep between my legs when I'm sleeping, placed it lengthwise in the center of the bed and crawled on top of it so it supported my torso, without squashing my boobs. I bent my head over the end of it to make sure I could breath comfortably. I pulled up my right leg to expose my tickle-craving pussy and everything was perfect except that the end of the pillow smelled like pussy. I guess I shouldn't squeeze it so tight against me at night. "Now, it is time for the rally race to begin, so return to the starting line you two," I commanded. Once more the two racers lined up at the starting line. I didn't have a flag to wave so I just said, "Ready, set, go!" and off they went with their little Hotwheels cars. Again Doug sped his Dodge up the back of my leg, General Lee clipped Clitoris Clump, veered through Vaginal Valley then bumped between the Buttock Buttes. Louise accelerated up the back of my leg then braked hard just before she reached the Tender Bits Chicane. I felt the Citroen's wheels bump over Venus Mound, clobber Clitoris Clump, vanquish Vaginal Valley, tingle through Tickly Tween, idle along Anal Alley then blast between Beautiful Buttock Buttes! By the time the Louise's Maseratti Citroen toured up the smooth straightaway of my back, Doug's Dodge Charger had screamed up across my shoulders, crossed over my back, bounded over my butt and screamed down the back of my other leg for the first lap lead. She just took her time, shivered over my shoulder blades and stood up all the hairs on the nape of my neck before heading back down across my back and back through the Tender Bits chicane. By the time Louise ambled around the hairpin turn over my foot, Doug was crashing along up through the racecourse well into his second lap. Doug continued his aggressive racing while Louise continued her sensuously shivery driving technique. As Doug's Charger slid down to my foot for the second time, Louise undid my bra, tugged off my panties, patted my bare ass and said, "Flip over, we need a more challenging rally course." As my pair of lovers surveyed the different but familiar terrain, Doug suggested we should have at least three laps this time, while Louise pointed out that a car rally is more about doing all the checkpoints than just racing around! "So we don't get all wound up together there should be more separation up and down those long straights, so pull your knees up and spread your legs wide apart," Louise suggested. "Excuse me, you two," I interjected, "Being the provider of your rally course, you will start at my feet, drive up my shins and thighs, cross my abdomen to the other side, run up my side, circle one boob, cross down over my belly, zip down my legs then start the next lap at my feet." Then I instructed them to prop up my knees with pillows so my thighs wouldn't get sore from holding my legs apart. At the start, I felt them both zip up my legs. Each, driving up my opposite leg, scooted across my knees. First one then the other, veered off my inner thigh, nosed up through Vaginal Valley. They grazed my clitoris as they crossed over Venus Mound, wheeled up around to cross over my belly above my navel then tickled up my sides. At armpit level they turned inward, spiraling twice around my breasts like they were racing up to the summits of my twin Pike's Peaks. But when they attempted the figure eight, they crashed and Louise ran her Citroen across my nipple. I felt her spin it around my aureole to avoid Doug then zip back down my belly ahead of him. Seemingly content this time to follow a couple of feet behind Louise, I felt Doug make good use of his boob circles and kept my other nipple relatively calm. By the time he ended the first lap at my toes, Louise slowly and deliberately wheeled her police car up my crotch! Doug followed my course directions to the letter on the second lap, gaining a little on Louise as she wheeled up my pussy the second time and noticed what she did. Of course he followed suit and grooved General Lee up, splitting my labia lips! During that second lap my husband spun extra figure eights on my breasts, allowing Louise to break away from his interference. After Louise completed her second circuit I felt the little devil purposely skid over my pussy, stop, back the Citroen slightly into my little pink bog then merrily continue ahead once more. They passed by each other amicably along my abdomen, did their turnarounds top and bottom but as Doug wheeled back up my thigh he must have noticed my pussy dilated and juicy. Like his opponent, he chose to veer into my pink bog on his way through Vaginal Valley. Over the next three circuits the pair of them increasingly jarred, skidded and nosed their little cars into my pussy. Each subsequent lap my nipples grew harder from their teasing twirls and eventually every tiny hair on my entire body was in full panic mode. I shivered from head to toe with their constant tickling of all my body's most sensitive areas so I finally called out "Last lap now so sprint to the finish!" Well, Doug zipped up my torso, whipped one figure eight around my breasts then tore after Louise. By the time Louise was zipping up the inside of my thigh, Doug had chased downward along the inside of my knee. I admit that I was pretty excited by their tickly tortures, but I most certainly wasn't prepared when I heard a metallic clack and felt the cool Citroen crashed completely into my pussy, followed in also by a hot Charger up into me past its doors! Doug grabbed up a miniature tow truck from the toy box and began to make silly beeping noises as he backed up my thigh with it. As he hooked onto the half buried General Lee car, Louise picked up a little ambulance and began making equally silly siren wails. Immediately after Doug towed out the orange Dodge, Louise kneeled directly in front of me, reached forward to my pussy. I felt her poke two fingers of each hand into my pussy then spread me wide open. I sensed cool air enter my vagina as she bent down and peered inside. "Well now, this could be a challenge even for your resident gynecologist to remove," she observed as she spit on her fingertips. I felt my heart beat harder and faster up the back of my neck as she smeared saliva all over her hand. As her shimmering fingers penetrated my vulva, Doug crawled around off the bed, fiddled with something over behind me. He walked down to the foot of the bed, kneeled behind Louise and then peered over her shoulder to watch! About thirty seconds after, I felt her petite hand submerge completely into my vagina, Louise inhaled a tiny gasp and then fluttered her eyelids. Subsequently I could feel rhythmic little thrusts on her hand as she groped around inside my vagina for the toy Citroen. When her breaths became deeper and her eyelids began to close I thought that odd. Her eyes always stared constantly into mine when she was fisting me, so I looked up over her shoulder at my husband. He was staring intently at Louise's wrist but he seemed to be squeezing Louise's breasts around from behind. His face was growing red and his expression was unusually lecherous. I tilted my head over as far as I could and looked around him into the mirrored closet doors behind him. Sure enough, his ass was bare, he'd lifted up the back of her little bathrobe and Dirty Doug was fucking my Luscious Louise doggy-style!!! My thighs quivered excitement as my pussy felt her bumpy little clenched fist twist and turn into the depths of my vagina, just like Louise was feeling that loathsome Devil's Dick thump against her cervix. I felt Louise's tongue flail my swelling clitoris, just as she felt my middle fingertip flick hers and my husband felt his nuts tickled. I stared into my husband's eyes as they watched Louise's wrist churn my pussy juice halfway up her forearm. I watched her eyes pierce back into mine as Doug began to milk her huge nipples hard so I followed suit with my left nipple. And that's when the fucking phone rang!!! We ignored the annoying rings even when the answering machine clicked on. An Eastern European woman's voice came on and said, "Douglas, if you are there please pickup. This is your cardiac surgery duty nurse, Jennifer and I need you to participate right now in a short program follow up." "I remember her, press the conference button and I'll talk to her," Doug demanded. I reached over far enough to punch the conference button on the phone then went back to abusing my nipple some more. "Is your wife available as well?" the interviewer quested. "Yes I'm right here but we're kind of involved right now," I spoke out. "I'll only take a couple minutes of your time then," echoed from the speakerphone. "According to hospital records, Douglas received a triple bi-pass operation a year and a half ago, and are you still doing well, sir?" she asked. "I'm doing surprising well right this moment, thank you," he replied. "At this moment?" her voice queried. "Well I'm currently involved in a rather intense exercise program," Doug snickered. "So you're exercising as we speak?" Jennifer asked with an interested tone. "Oh ya!" he groaned as he pulled back and then gave Louise a long hard thrust. Louise grunted obscenely as the Devil's Dick ground through her tight little pussy. "Are you all right there Laura?" questioned our interviewer. "I'm fine, that was just my girlfriend taking one for the team." I joked. "So this is a multiple participant workout you're involved in then?" the increasingly curious voice questioned. All three of us answered in unison, "Yes!" "So what form of heart health exercise are you currently involved in, may I ask?" Jennifer continued. Tiring of her interference, I taunted out, "Well honey, my husband is fucking my bisexual girlfriend doggy-style while she is fisting my pussy, while I'm stretching one of my nipples as I tickle her clitoris and his nuts, pretty well describes it!" After a long pause Jennifer continued, "So Douglas's bi-pass operation could be considered a success then?" "Oh yes," Louise interjected, "He's as strong as a bull now." "So Doug, do you feel your high cardio exercise regimen has increased your endurance levels?" her voice continued. "Hell yes, these two crazy bitches would have fucked me to death over a year ago without that surgery!" he answered. It didn't sound like this interviewer was going to hang up soon, so we "Stirred the Bucket." Louise and I traded places after lubing our pussies up extravagantly and fluffed Doug up for another round. "I hear shuffling noises there, are you still with me?" asked the voice. "Oui!" Louise called out, after which Doug nonchalantly blurted out, "We're just adjusting our exercise positions, my dear." "And what adjustment to your exercise format are you currently making?" trembled Jennifer's voice. "Well, I'm laying on my side, facing my lovely wife, who's lounging on her back, with her closest leg pulled up so I can ram my big padded cock into her. I believe this is called the scissors position. Laura's well loosened up now from Louise fisting her pussy and my dick is sliding in quite nicely now," Doug exhaled. "I've put the speaker phone on Laura's chest as well so we all can hear each other much better," Louise added. Impatient with her ongoing anal questions I interjected: "Listen Sweetheart, I read some years ago that estrogen cream is essential in keeping menopausal women's vaginas moist and supple. Daily oral doses of estrogen have proven to have frightening side effects bur I figure occasional usage of the cream, applied thoroughly inside a vagina by hand or Doug's penis, where we really need it is good protection against dry vagina tears but most importantly this gives me undeniable justification for indulging ourselves in these pussy punishing pleasures we've become so addicted to!" Before she had a chance I continued with: "We'd love to talk more, Dear but Doug's penis is drooping a bit. He can't feel much through that thickly padded condom he wears to keep the estrogen from his dick so I'm pressing my powerful wand vibrator between the shaft of his penis and my clit to get things going again. Louise is dilated enough yet for me to slide my estrogen-creamed hand into her pussy for her weekly dose of hormones and I really want to suck that lovely little clit of hers till she cums. So bye for now!" Finally I could concentrate on Dirty Doug's mushroom knob as it pressed against my pussy once more. Even though I was liberally lubricated, my vulva's lips felt a pinch inward with his pressure. In my mind's eye I saw that immense ugly corona push my pussy lips in deeper and deeper, until my brain's insatiable lust signaled my vulva to release. I felt his foreskin folds washboard inside me then cringed as the condom's warts, bumps and scars irritated the underside of my clitoris. I felt redemption finally, sensing the pressure of his knob push against my cervix! With innermost glee, I felt the rim of that disgusting knob suction my vaginal juices back out to blend with the estrogen cream and fling my frilly bits back outside where they belonged. I'd never felt much of Doug's thick but short penis inside my vagina but this rumpled vibrator sleeve, turned condom, changed all that. His rhythmic thrusts scourged my vagina with its evil knob and shaft, stripped all my inhibitions away and replaced them with down and dirty, high friction lust! I humped up my ass to get a little more comfy and my pussy emitted a series of lasciviously juicy squawks. Louise had kneeled beside my head and between her widely spread thighs was showing me how wetly dilated her pussy was after being equally stretched by the Devil's Dick. This was obviously a blatant plea for my hand to explore the depths of her vagina in return. In the moments that followed, the most glorious symphony of delightfully squishy squawks, moans, grunts and squeals flowed like music to our ears. About two minutes after the last orgasmic shudder of lust exhaled from our throats, Jennifer's voice exclaimed out of phone's speaker: "Well, I hope you people are all proud of yourselves. I haven't sex like I just listened to ever in my life! I'm just a wreck here! My face is red, my nipples are sore from me pinching them and my panties are all wet from me fingering my clitoris through them! I'm afraid to stand up and go pee and I am so mad at you perverts I'm going to initiate a personal audit on all you people! The Healthcare System has a substantial investment in Douglas' surgery and it is my duty to ensure that you people are not endangering our patient's life! I have your address so expect a visit from me personally, sometime Friday!" Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 18 "I suppose we could find time for you Friday afternoon," I suggested then devilishly continued, "Bring along a box of small latex examination gloves, for just in case."