Recollections From a Diary (This part FF) Chapter One The Reunion The view was enthralling. From the pitch-black surroundings of the lavish penthouse apartment I stared through diverse rivers of rain cascading down glass windows thirty stories above huge waves crashing on the beach below. I raised my eyes up and into the force of the most violent thunderstorm I’d ever seen and marveled at the glory of Mother Nature. Only intermittent lightning bolts slashing through the night’s darkness to cauterize their energy by knifing into the sea’s white caps. Inside however, rivulets of perspiration coursed down my neck and shoulders as I continued my methodical fucking of Julie, my beloved. Julie, the light of my life since freshman year at Columbia,is now moaning continuously. Once again on the threshold of climax, her legs are wrapped firmly around my waist while I thrust in and out of her. My back is on fire after being raked by her razor-sharp nails; and I know from experience that the pain will linger long after we’re finished fucking. But, I am soaring with the knowledge that I’ve finally wrested control away from her. Filled with a gloating sensation I’ve never experienced before, I recall Julie telling me years ago, “I only mark the one’s that make me cum,” and grimace as her nails renew their attack and dig deeper and the pain reaches a higher threshold. Silently, I accept it as if she were bestowing a badge of honor upon me--she’s relinquished control. Shaking my head from side-to-side, I increase the tempo of my thrusts. For a moment, it’s so quiet I imagine I can actually hear pellets of my sweat landing on the sheets with light thuds. A terrifying clap of thunder shakes the building, bringing me back to the moment. I cease thrusting and ease my slippery prick out of her sopping center and roll her over telling her to get her ass up in the air. Julie hesitates and I smack her ass hard to make my point. This prompts her to comply with alacrity, and she bends forward to a point from which she can clasp the brass bars of the headboard. “Ya gonna fuck me up the ass?” she croaks hoarsely. To me this represents a new, different side of Julie even though there is no discernable anxiety in her voice. “I’m gonna do whatever the fuck I wanna do to you, bitch!” I growl in reply. This is not my usual demeanor and I know I’ve shocked Julie with this attitude adjustment. Good! That’s what I intended to do. Julie’s buttocks rise even higher in anticipation as I close in on her. Now I’m on my knees, cupping her marvelous tits from behind and mashing them together before releasing them. Julie sighs contentedly. My fingers grope around to her greasy genitals and gather enough juice to make anal entry relatively easy—but not for her. I really don’t care if I rip her apart right now. (Well, I know I won’t. We’ve done this bit before.) I laugh aloud when I discover Julie’s fingers already busy anointing her asshole with juices too, only Julie’s got her finger inside her ass, preparing the way for me. [I should take a moment and share some information with those of you who are not familiar with ass fucking. The pleasure a woman feels during sex when their partner pays some loving attention to that puckered little orifice two inches below their pussy is surprisingly good. Women in general have a tendency to equate this with pain rather than pleasure. I’m sorry, nothing could be further from the truth. Well, yes, there is pain, just as there is pain when the hymen is broken. That “pain” doesn’t stop a woman from having sex again does it? No, they put it behind them, no pun intended. It might surprise you to learn that a woman’s asshole contains a vast repository of sensory nerves and the right kind of penetration and stimulation can produce powerful climaxes. Of course, anal entry must be accomplished in proper fashion, i.e., lots of lubrication and slowly, very slowly.] Gripping Julie about the waist, I mount her doggy style She twists around, looks at me, closes her eyes, and moans, “Do it! Do it!” It I do. Spreading her knees apart, I flex my buttocks and slide my hips forward, placing my prick at her puckered entrance and push. The initial resistance gradually yields and the head of my prick eases about two inches into her ass. This coaxed a groan from her. She gasped loudly, and her head snapped back. My prick slipped out and I paused to pant, slowly regaining my breath before reinserting it again, this time establishing a solid beachhead. Ready to attack again, I gripped her lean hips tightly. "C'mon," she gasped, "Bring it on!" With that, Julie lets go of the headboard, hunches over to all fours, and buries her face in a pillow, crying out, “Yes! That’s it! Get it in there. Get it all in there,” humping her ass back at me to counter each thrust of mine in her eagerness to achieve rear-end rapture. [Gotta provide ya with some more data about this. How else can I convince you to try it? Apparently, as the prick rides in and out it creates sensations through the very thin membrane in the anal passage serving as a partition to the clit on the other side. So the final climax is actually caused by a similar stimulation to the clit that causes them to come during a good old-fashioned fuck or suck. The thing is, it takes LONGER for the woman to cum during a butt-fuck. But, when they do get off, the pleasure is so excruciatingly powerful that it feels as if their entire rear end has been reamed-out with rapture. That might explain why Julie is so hot to get it on. Of course, I’ve already spent over an hour in teasing her, fucking her and eating her out.] Julie groaned again as I moved deeper within her anal channel. Reaching a hand between her legs, she roughly masturbated her clit until a relief of sorts swept over her. It wasn’t long before my ivory hard prick vanished into her hole and I felt the bristles of her pubic hair roiling against my lower stomach. The huge glass windows, which normally afforded a magnificent view of the ocean, now served as a full-length mirror and I was absorbed with our gyrating reflections every time the lightning crackled. I watched as Julie raised her head to join me in looking into the reflections. It was face suffused with lust and she caught me watching her, gasped deliriously and loosened a torrent of foul language at me. “Oh, you motherfuckin’ cocksuckin’, no good ass fucking, bastard, bitch, shit eating son of a bitch. You cunt lapping shriveled prick. Ohhh yessssss! You cocksucker.” She continued to rant, outdoing anything I’d seen her do before. She was getting me terribly excited with her vile, verbal barrage. “Oh you bung-hole lickin’ whore!” “Oh, yesss!” “There! Yes right there!” “Oh fuck my ass! Fuck my pussy!” “Ahhhh, lick my cunt!” “Get nasty you bitch!” “I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” she shrieked, obviously reaching a climax. She screamed again, this time grabbing my hair and yanking on it. I cried out in pain and retaliated by slapping her ass until she released her grip. Suddenly, Julie began to spasm like only she can as a great orgasm overcomes her. A short sequence of lightning provided me with a close perspective of this undeniably erotic view. Julie’s heavy breasts bounced and jiggled. Her head rolled from side to side. I thought of her then as a sleek vision of passion. Her hands worked frenetically between her legs. And between our bodies, the long dildo I wore strapped around my waist glistened as it continued to slide in and out of her ass. A brutal gust of wind forced the French doors to the balcony open, and a deluge of ponderous raindrops immediately turned an area of the white carpet gray. My attention returned to watching Julie’s creamy, sweat-flecked body writhing and jerking back and forth in time to my strokes. I caught a glimpse of Julie chewing her lower lip to ameliorate the tension as another orgasm wafted in on her. I wasn’t sure if I caused this one or if she’d brought herself off masturbating. I was finished with her for the moment. I reached behind me and unfastened the strap holding the dildo in place. Then I rose, picked a lush pear from the fruit bowl next to the bed, took a bite and left the room. I had to pee. Moments later, Julie followed with a lighted a candle and watched me as I squatted on the toilet. She knelt at my feet as I finished. Hastily she clutched a bunch of toilet tissue and dabbed my pussy dry. Then she leaned forward, kissed it and stood up. I kissed her mouth in return and our tongues reacquainted themselves. Julie broke away from me and paid homage to my sexual artistry in her typical foul-mouthed fashion, groaning, "Oh, shit Rach, that was sooo good! I never expected you to be that way. Never.” Squeezing me tighter, she pursed her lips close to my face and whimpered as a young child might. “Tongue. Wet tongue. Give to me. Please, please. Tongue.” Baby talk? Was she regressing, or merely opening up a new side of her personality to me? No matter, I could reflect on this later. For the moment, I complied with her request. We fused our mouths. This time I ended it and slid down to the carpeted floor, where on my knees, with my hands on Julie’s ass, I tugged her pussy closer to my eager mouth and hungry tongue. She’d succeeded in turning me on once again, and I was responding to her call. “Yes!” she sobbed, “lick it!” “Ahhhhhh! Deeper! Oh, God yes, more deep!” she croaked as she began to lose control. ”Deeper, damn you! Ohh, lick it Rach! Lick it!" Her pussy had opened like a flower for me, and my tongue darted hither and yon gathering up her nectar. She cupped her breasts and kneaded her hard pebbled nipples. "Ummm, please,” she whined, “make me cum. I need to cum again.” My thumb casually circled her clit, flicking it at the end of each circuit. “Please lick me, oh please . . .” I heard her cry. Looking up I saw the tears of rapture coursing down her face. “Yes! Yes!” she hissed, “Oh lick it! Ohhhh suck it!” Then she was yelling, “Yesssssss!” “Ohhhh yessssss!” “I’m there!” “Oh Christ almighty! I’m cummmming!” My pursed lips closed over her swollen clit, and carefully sucked on it. Julie’s hips jerked and thrust forward at my face knocking my lips from their purchase around her bud. Startled, I glanced up and watched as her long nails raked the sides of her breasts causing tiny driblets of blood to trickle down her torso. “Don’t stop. Please Rach, don’t stop.” I continued licking and sucking. “Oh God, that's so nice.” “Please, please. Thank you. Ohhh God, thank you.” My hand wandered down onto her mound. My finger pressed and pushed between the tender, puffed up flesh and meandered inside up to the last knuckle. Julie’s legs betrayed her and she sank to the carpeted floor. Carefully turning Julie onto her back, I separated her legs, and with my hands on her upper thighs, pushed them into the air. A momentary view of my finger revealed it to be wet and slick from her copious flow. I tried inserting four fingers this time and was, unsurprisedly successful. I launched a steady rhythm of pushing my fingers in and out, producing a “squish-squish” sound. Eventually I thought to search for her G-spot and located it easily enough. Julie groaned, her hips writhing in time with my fingers inward movements. "Oh, yes. Fuck my box.” “Eat me, eat me, ohhh eat me you slutty bitch!" Julie moaned. I don’t know if it was to satisfy her demand or my own driving hungers for her cunt, but I slammed my face into her cunt and licked and sucked as hard as I could. I sensed her orgasm arrive and kept going long after her final shudder. As I withdrew I realized Julie had passed out. The power had been restored during this sexual activity. I kissed Julie’s lower lips one last time. When she didn’t stir, I left her there lying on the bathroom floor, shut the lights off and made myself a drink. I carried the drink across the room and sat down in a chair near the bedroom window and stared into the stormy night as memories of our past flashed across my mind. I don’t remember falling asleep. Chapter Two Catching Up I woke up early the next morning to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Throwing on a robe, I wandered into the breakfast area and found Julie pouring orange juice and coffee for the two of us. “Good morning,” she said. “I hope you slept well. I know I did.” Julie giggled. She waved her free hand, “I must have slept half the night on the bathroom floor.” “Oh . . .” I replied. “I’m so sorry. I would have wakened you, but you looked so comfortable there I . . . I didn’t have the heart too.” “No problem,” she smiled, showing off a brilliant set of teeth. “I haven’t slept that well in ages. Last night was . . . wonderful. Can you imagine? We went at it right through the worst storm in 30 years.” Too amplify her point she handed me the morning paper, whose headline echoed her statement. I sat down beside Julie and gazed out the window at an ocean the color of lead and a sky the color of smoke. Reaching for my cup, I gingerly took a first sip of my coffee. It tasted great. A television announcer wearing a ridiculous plaid jacket blared that another storm might be closing in on us. I tuned him out and turned my attention back to Julie, sighing inwardly as I recalled the pyrotechnic lovemaking of the previous night. Julie’s robe unfolded as she leaned over to pour herself a second cup of coffee and revealed a half-exposed breast to me. I yearned to suckle it. It had been a long time since we’d been together. Julie seemed to sense my desire and closed the robe, knowing we had other things to catch up on. I smiled to myself. We were both practical women. Over bacon and eggs, I inquired into how Julie’s law career was moving along. “Ah, right,” she said. “We didn’t chat very much last night did we?” “Unfortunately no. But, then again, the weather delayed my arrival. Huh,I nearly canceled out. Or to put it in the proper perspective, I almost cancelled out. The rain, or should I say flooding, damn near swept me off the road more than once.” “Yeah, I thought you were a little more enthusiastic when you arrived than you usually are.” “Bite me,” I said smiling as I reverted to a favorite slang expression of our younger days. “Listen Julie, have you got something for this?” and I revealed my back to her. “My God! Did I do that?” I nodded. She rose and went to a cabinet in the kitchen. “Let’s try this ointment, it’s pretty good.” I examined the label and nodded my approval again. Then I relinquished the tube back to her. As Julie applied it to my back I began to inquire about her career. “So tell me Julie,” I said for openers, ”what kind of cases have you been handling lately?” I wanted to get her career out of the way quickly in order to wow her with my recent accomplishment. I loved her dearly, but still, I wanted to blow her away. “Yes, well,” she frowned and rubbed her hands on a kitchen towel before continuing. “Sidney’s been referring certain types of criminal law cases to me that his firm, err . . . doesn’t want to be associated with.” “How so?” I asked. “At the moment I’m defending a man charged with being a pederast.” “Ooooh!” I exclaimed. “Now that’s fascinating.” “Ouch!” I thought, that’s not very diplomatic. “Get with it girl,” I chided myself. Quickly moving to correct any mistake in my meaning, I continued, “Sorry, I mean challenging. That’s a far better choice of words.” “Oh I know what you mean alright.” Julie said, clearly wrapped up in presenting the facts to me as dramatically as possible. “I wouldn’t have taken the case except for the money. The guy’s loaded. I received a $200,000 retainer up front.” Julie began to drum her fingers nervously on the table. Apparently she was wondering how much I should be told. “He’s a fastidious person on the surface, but I get the creeps just being in the same room with him. I mean, this guy’s been preying on kids for years. He knows he’s going away,” she caught herself and stopped the drumming. I interrupted Julie to say, “How can you be so sure? I mean, didn’t Michael Jackson get away with something like that a few years back?” “Yes he did, or so it seemed. He bought his way out of trouble. The kid’s parents took the money and ran. Jackson sequestered himself from the public. Although, and this is a real shame, he’s been known to have a kid as his ‘guest’ once in a while.” Julie stood up and began pacing about ten feet away from me. She donned her court room demeanor, and continued. “The preponderance of evidence is overwhelming, against him. That’s a given. It can’t be avoided. It can’t be diminished in any way. So my real job here is to minimize the length of time he spends in the penitentiary. Perhaps negotiate a kinder, gentler site in which he’ll while away his sentence.” She sighed and smiled, “All in all I should walk away with about $300,000 for two months work.” “Big bucks,” I conceded, “but what about your reputation?” Crossing my legs, I asked, “And how many cases like this do you handle a year?” “If I’m lucky, three. But then, there are others that fit in along the way. You know $5,000 here, $8,000 there. Ahh, what the hell, last year I grossed $725,000.” I beamed my best smile at her. “As to my reputation,” she said resuming the drumming of her fingers on the table, “well, the public have a history of short memories. Anyway someone’s got to provide a defense for these creeps.” “You’re right,” I offered. “Not bad for a cute blonde from Madison, New Jersey,” I added laughing. “While we’re at it, what did Sidney pull in?” “My, aren’t we being nosey today,” Julie smiled. “Well since I’m going to turn your brain inside out in a minute, I’ll tell you. Sidney grossed $3,200,000 last year. It was a typical year for him.” “Wow!” I was truly surprised. I knew there was a money-tree growing here, but hadn’t thought of it in that size. “Julie, I have to hand it to you. You’ve made the big time.” “Thank you. I recall how competitive we were back at Columbia. We were both going to be zillionaires, remember?” Julie crossed her legs, then uncrossed them before rising and going over to the refrigerator. “Want some OJ?” “Yes please, that would be nice,” and I accepted the half filled glass and sipped from it before I started bringing her up to date on my personal history. My moment of moments was at hand. “Okay, okay, Rach. Now it’s your turn. It’s been six years since we’ve really touched base.” I smiled broadly and said,“We touched more than a few bases last night my love.” “Come on, I’m an attorney, I recognize a diversionary tactic when I see one.” “Okay, but remember you asked for it. This might take a while.” “Hey, we’ve got hours. Get it on girl,” she said, casually brushing a hand through her blonde locks. “Right. So where do I begin? I’ve been a very busy girl these last few years. Let’s see you know I finished my internship after transferring from Columbia to Johns Hopkins in Baltimore.” “Oh yes,” she nodded affirmatively and leaned closer. “Well, I put in another year there at the Department of Pharmacology, then I interned in Medicine, at Mt. Zion Hospital and Medical Center in San Francisco, for two years. Julie’s face reflected puzzlement, so I tried to explain, “Somehow, I don’t know why exactly, I decided to switch coasts. Anyway, next I completed my residency at the Department of Neurology, University of California.” I paused and took a long drink of my juice. “That swallowed up another two years.” Julie was hanging on my every word, I moved in for the kill. “At this point I had quite a few offers, some very interesting offers lay there on the table, but one of them appealed to me far more than the rest.” Julie was on the edge of her seat by now. Her head bobbed up and down as though asking, “Yes? Yes? Yes?” I surged forward. “I accepted the offer from the Mayo Clinic because it would not only permit me to serve under one of the foremost neurosurgeons in the world, but would also permit me to continue my medical education. My primary specialty was to be in movement disorders, but ranked closely behind that were other specialties in: Huntington's Disease, Parkinson's Disease, Tourette's Syndrome, tremor, and dystonia.” I took a deep breath and continued. “It took an enormous effort, but now I’m also a certified Psychologist.” Julie’s hands were over her eyes, as if to say, “I don’t believe this.” “I’ve become deeply involved in several areas of research. Specifically, Tourette's Syndrome, Aging, and Alzheimer's Disease.” “Jesus!” Julie spat out. “You’re a veritable tour de force! How in the hell did you manage all that? Each field would appear to be carnivorous,eating up your time.” “They are and do. That’s why you haven’t heard or seen much of me all this time. But, and this is important . . . Here’s why I believe it’s all worth while. There are maybe six people in the world with my credentials.” “Now, I’m only making maybe $120,000 or so at the moment. And I’m still paying my educational bills. I’ll be doing that for several more years, but . . .” I shifted in my chair and changed direction, “Hell, I never go anywhere or do anything. I really don’t have a life outside the medical field. But, thanks to Dr.Ergstrom at Mayo, I’m the lead med-person searching for the gene responsible for Tourette's Syndrome.” Are you familiar with it?” I asked. “To some extent I am,” she replied. “It’s a neurological disorder characterized by tics -- involuntary, tics and sudden vocalizations.” “Very good.” I said, somewhat taken aback at Julie’s knowledge of this rather obscure disease. Gulping a breath, I continued. “So we’ve got a diagnostic criteria which include both multiple motor and one or more vocal tics present at some time, although not necessarily simultaneously. Symptoms for TS are sporadic, sometimes disappearing for weeks or months at a time.” Realizing Julie’s full attention was focused on me I roared ahead. “It hits most people before they reach 18. Although the word "involuntary" is used to describe the nature of the tics, it’s not entirely accurate. It wouldn’t be true to say that people with TS have absolutely no control over their tics, as though it’s some type of spasm; it’s more compelling in nature. People with TS feel an irresistible urge to perform their tics, much like you need to scratch a mosquito bite. Some people are able to hold back their tics for hours at a time, but this only leads to a stronger outburst once they finally let go.” “Coprolalia, the cursing, or racial epithets associated with TS are not, or do not have to be exclusively swear words. Many times coprolalia manifests itself as an overwhelming urge to use a racial epithet, even though that’s the last thing the patient wants to do. Something about the "forbiddingness" of it impels a person with coprolalia to say it, seemingly against their will.” I paused, then continued. “Now I’m to my neck in research, hoping to find a solution to TS.” I looked at Julie, scratched my head and said, ”We know it’s genetically transmitted. Parents have a 50% chance of passing the gene on to their children. Girls with the gene have a 70% chance of displaying symptoms. Boys with the gene have a 99% chance of displaying symptoms.” “Unfortunately these studies have taken a great deal of time in the past. I . . . we, closely examined previous research. Nothing appeared to have worked as effectively as flaxseed oil. Keep in mind, though, that Tourette’s Syndrome is a symptom with many causes. What works for one child may not work for another. The reason flaxseed works is probably because it increases a substance called EPA which increases the good kind of prostaglandin. The prostaglandin definitely decreases the body's inflammatory reaction. You can only imagine what kind of havoc inflammation plays in the brain.” I sensed I might be losing Julie here and paused. She surprised me by gesturing for me to continue. “Well, there is also a bad kind of prostaglandin, I call it bad for practical purposes, it serves a useful purpose by increasing the blood's clotting ability. Anyway, there appear to be a greater number of people responding to this treatment who associate worsening symptoms with virus and other infections like strep, allergy, and hormonal changes. I asked myself what connection might all of these have with bad prostaglandin? “My guess was that the body increases the bad kind of prostaglandin when threatened with any kind of immune insult. Anyway, we’re on the threshold of a major breakthrough. Merck, you know Merck?” Julie tossed her blonde mane back over her shoulder and gave an affirmative shake of the head. “Merck is cutting me in on one third of the profit for developing a successful medication. No. I’ve phrased that poorly. They’ve picked up extensive research costs. I’ve provided the brainpower. I have agreed to provide them with an exclusive use of the final product.” “As you’re so fond of saying, the bottom line for me with respect to a viable solution to TS will be in the area of $3 Million. Oh yeah, when this research is completed I’ll sign on with Merck and tour the world treating Tourette's Syndrome patients both mentally and physically wherever I find them.” “Now in between, I operate on a minimum of four patients a week, just to keep up with the latest in neurosurgery techniques.” “My God,” Julie said, “you’re unbelievable.” “Well Julie, remember we wanted to be the best in our fields as kids.” “Yeah, but that was mostly wishful thinking. Jeez, Rach, you’ve overachieved.” I decided to ignore that last comment and continued my story. “Well, needless to say, I need this break desperately.” “Shit, Julie, I nearly forgot, my husband,this is my second husband, Arthur’s his name. I believe you and Sidney met Brad. What a wuss he turned out to be. Well, that’s not exactly true. He was all right; it was just that he couldn’t keep up with me. Naw, I’m not being fair again. I had to let him go, my schedule made marriage to him an impossibility.” I let go with a deep sigh. “He had an eight inch dick on him. Thick too. He was my personal dildo for a year.” Julie laughed and scratched her leg. “So, she said, “Tell me about Arthur.” “Arthur and I got married last year. He’s in banking in Minneapolis. Does alright I suppose. I don’t pry into his business and he has little or no idea what I’m up to. We schedule our sexual activities every Sunday night based upon our upcoming schedules.” I sighed, “He’s not that demanding.” “Oh, poor baby,” Julie cooed. I got up and walked to the window and took in the panoramic view. There wasn’t any. It was still a virtual wall of grayness outside, but looking out I was able to watch as a flock of pelicans glided past, forty or fifty feet below me. I continued to watch, enthralled as they wove their way until they were absorbed in the grayness. “To quench my sexual appetite, I pick on the occasional intern. They’re usually horny, and almost as pressed for time as I am.” “Now I’m getting horny,” Julie volunteered. “What about you Hon? Or would you prefer to go shopping?” “Shopping sounds good to me. I’ll let you buy me something gaudy with all that money you’re making from dirty old men.” “You’re on.” She laughed and stood up. “I know a great place to have lunch. The staff is male. And with this rain . . . well, they meet you with an umbrella . . . Did I tell you they’re all bodybuilders and they wear tight, tight clothes. If you tip them well, they’ll let you cop a feel . . . it’s positively perverse.” I laughed and asked her who’ll defend her in court when she’s up for fondling a minor. Julie smirked, and the expression died upon her face as she exclaimed, “My God! I almost forgot the damn thing again . . . I promised myself not to do it again. Just a minute Rach, I’ll be right back.” Julie hopped out of the room as she tried to fully insert her foot in one of her mules. A minute later she returned carrying a large box with the brand name ‘Tide’ on the two sides that I could see. Julie dropped the box at my feet. “Do you remember this box?” “I don’t think so,” I replied. “Well, I’ve lugged this damn box around for twelve years. It’s been through five moves. Last year I finally peeked inside and discovered it’s your stuff. I knew it as soon as I . . . wait a sec . . .” Bending over she reached inside the box and came up smiling lewdly as she produced a Barbi doll. “Jesus!” I said, jerking forward to obtain a closer look. “Is that . . .?” “Yes, Rach,” she shrieked and jumped up and down. “It’s your ‘Special Barbi’ hey, it was even my special Barbi on occasion.” Chapter Three Malibu Barbie & The Diary I don't know what to say about Barbie . . . Malibu Barbie, to be precise. I hadn’t seen her in all those years. Memories rushed in that I’d pushed back into the recesses of my mind. Time was, I’d use it as my primo dildo. Not the head, mind you, my hole isn’t that big! The feet, always feet first. Yes, both of them. Once started, I’d poke my fingers inside me and move the legs from side to side. I realized I’d absentmindedly spread my legs apart and discovered I was cupping my mons. Julie had her hand over her mouth, silently laughing at me. I actually felt myself blush. Holding the doll out to Julie, I recalled the incredible feelings it produced. Like a twin cockhead, used with terrific aim. It was my personal, unconventional, masturbation toy. And suddenly I recalled Julie and I using it on each other. Oh, yeah, Malibu Barbie was convenient in more than one way. We weren’t very neat in those days, and on occasion my parents would drop in unexpectedly, Barbi was so much easier to explain than having a dildo or vibrator lying around the apartment. My parents never figured out why I wouldn’t grow up and give up my doll collection. I found myself smiling at the memory and then for no discernable reason both of us burst into a giggling fit, just like teenagers. It felt good. Julie sat down next to me and hugged her knees to her chest as we slowly regained our composure. “That’s the only thing I’ve taken out. Once I established you owned the contents I left it alone, just waiting for the right moment to return it to you. Please, go on keep going. Let’s see what else is in there. I’m anxious to see, damn it,” she said feigning a morose expression, “I have nothing left of my own from those days.” Like a kid on Christmas morning, I poked around inside the box and removed several items that had little or no memories adhered to them. Then I grasped the book. “It’s my diary!” “Damn,” Julie exclaimed. “I didn’t know you kept a diary. Does it . . .?” “Oh, yeah. There’s some hot stuff in here, but . . .” “Come on, let’s have a little sample.” “No Julie, it’s my diary. It’s sacred.” “Bullshit, Rach, a lot of time’s gone by. Your Statute of Limitations has run out.” “Get real girl. For God’s sake, you’re an attorney. Cut the crapola will ya?” Inexplicably, I found my grammar returning to that of my collegiate level. Julie’s too, for that matter. “Come on, Rachel. Please. Pretty please.” “Alright, just a small sample. Then we go out, okay?” “Yes, sure. Pick a sexy part, Okay?” “Let’s just see. I’m not promising anything. For all I know it may be squeaky, pristine clean.” “Riiight! Just for fun, start at the beginning. Go ahead. Oh, wait, want another cup of coffee?” “Yeah, sure,” I said turning to the first entry. She was back in a flash and I was already deeply absorbed in the opening page. “Here. Your coffee.” “Oh, thanks,” I said, and absentmindedly reached for the cup. Luckily I grasped it firmly, took a sip and started to read aloud. "Last night I came out of the shower as I have a thousand times before. I stopped before the mirror and gazed at my nude body. This wasn’t unusual, but the way I was looking at my reflection was. For some reason, I took a critical look at myself." "Eighteen, really, really, long black hair. I noted (for the first time?) my eyes were somewhat almond shaped, and hazel in color. I stood five-foot eight inches barefoot and weighed exactly one hundred ten pounds. I cupped my breasts in my hands, hmmmm, they didn’t exactly overflow them. My nipples began to stiffen. Watching them rise I thought, “Still, 33C ain’t all that bad.” "My hands drifted to my waist and I watched coyly as my lips formed the words “twenty-three inches.” "Inexplicably, as if they had a mind all of their own, my hands traced over my hips. I smiled into the mirror and whispered, “thirty-three once again.” "I tossed my head and watched as my hair flew in a long arc through the air and whipped around my shoulder covering one breast. I turned to the side and checked out my profile. Speaking aloud I said confidently. “Not bad, in the vital statistic department. Not bad at all.” "Facing away from the mirror I bent over and examined my ass in the mirror. One pimple stared back. After dabbing it with alcohol, I gave my cheek a nice gentle pat, and softly said, “I know you’ve turned a few heads this week.” "My pubic hair had grown sufficiently so that it formed a neat triangle, and I hadn’t had to trim it to get it that way. I wondered if the other girls had checked me out in the shower at the gym. Now why would I wonder about that?" *** “Well, that’s interesting, but not insightful, Rach,” Julie stated matter of factly. “You’ve managed to preserve those measurements pretty well if I may say so.” I thanked her and closed the diary. In a panic-stricken voice Julie pleaded, “Hey, no fair!” She placed her hand on mine. “Please read on. Just a little more, please?” “Alright,” I said placating her. “By the way, I think you’re better looking now then you were at Columbia. How is that possible? Julie stretched like a cat. Very feline I noted. “I work hard at keeping my shape Rach. Very hard. Now let’s get back to the diary.” I really wanted to read more myself, in private,but there was no way I could manage that without Julie being presentat least for the next few days. Turning a few pages I settled on one and resumed reading. *** "If I’m gonna keep a diary maybe I should put in a few details that happened to me before. This way I can have an accurate documentation later on. For example, I started my sexuality at 16, the end of my junior year in high school . . . I raised the activity level a lot more in senior year. I did it because I wanted to, not because my ‘peers’ were doing it.” Mostly handjobs, although there were a couple blowjobs during my senior year. I liked the pleasure it gave the guys, and I enjoyed knowing that I was the one delivering ‘that look’ on the guy's face. I was in control. That seemed to be important to me. I mean, I’m not a control freak,shit, I’m not even sure what that expression means, but every few dates I would stonewall the guy, sending him home with what they called ‘blue balls’.” "I always put up a bitchy tough front, so I made sure that I got the rep of being cold. No one thought about calling me a slut. When I did something for the guy, it was because I needed it. I guess I raped them, “Ha, Ha, Ha, although they weren't exactly complaining." "Met my roommate this morning. Her name is Julie and she’s awesome! I can’t believe how lucky I am. She’s drop dead gorgeous and super intelligent!" "She’s gonna take pre-law! Hot damn! I wanted a serious student to bunk with. This is better than expected. And the guys will positively drool over her! I’m sure I’d be happy with her rejects. Ahhh, the stud looking rejects that is. Whew! I can’t believe my luck." "Julie and I have been together for a month now. I’m still in awe of her. Guys seem to topple down in front of her like bowling pins as we head for class, and she just walks over their bodies." "Lately, I have been a masturbating fool. I mean, I did it watching the soaps this morning, then went to the mall, saw this hunk and ran for the ladies room and a vacant stall, not caring (or noticing) the one next to me was occupied. Later I called Brad (old high school beau) and ended up doing it with him on the phone. (No! he didn’t know what I was doing!) And last I used two fingers to get off just thinking about Julie! Yeah Julie. I saw her prancing into her room almost nude on her way from the shower. I recalled the way she’s been dressing for class lately. Short skirts and tight sweaters, almost see-through blouses and the like. She told me she likes to get the guys hot and bothered in class, she concentrates on the lecture while they think about her. She thinks it provides an edge for her grade-wise and she enjoys flaunting herself to them too. She’s goading me to try it. I just might." *** Julie squealed as I read this last part. “You slut!” she wailed. “I never . . .” “Bullshit,” I cried out. “You did! And you got me to follow suit.” A sly smile crossed her face. “Well you were acting like a virgin back then.” I fumed. “God damnit! I was a virgin then!” I wasn’t mad I was just exasperated with her. “Hey Rach, you told me you’d lost your cherry in high school.” "Well . . . I lied to you then," I said belligerently. "About what?" In a more subdued tone, I said, "About how much I'd done with a guy." “Come on . . . admit it. You gave out blowjobs and screwed like a rabbit in the back seat of what’s his name’s car.” "No, I really was a virgin," I said, blushing, even after all those years. "I mean,” I blurted out trying to assert myself, “I gave a couple blowjobs, sure, but no guy ever got further than groping my pussy. Damnit! We just read about it in this diary. Why would I lie about it to myself back then?” “You’re telling me I got your cherry?” “Don’t you remember me telling you you were the first?” “Yeah . . . but I always thought I was the first girl.” She kissed me and said, “That’s so sweet.” Chapter Four The First Time (Really!) Julie caressed my face, her breath smelt of lavender, then she kissed my lips again, this time ever so softly, causing me to shiver with anticipation of what lay in store for us later. “Read on my love,” Julie cooed. “Just a bit more.” I skimmed ahead a few pages and settled in on the ripest part so far. *** "Thursday, December 10 Oh, wow! Oh Shit! I don’t believe this happened to me! Finals are starting Monday and I’m going ape ship with horniness. Did I write ship? I meant ape shit. Christ, I gotta get it together. She, I should say Julie, in case I read this years from now." "Oh . . . why bother, I’ll never forget this as long as I live." "When I returned to the apartment early this evening, I heard what I thought was the TV in Julie’s bedroom. Only it wasn’t the TV. Julie was with her boyfriend Don in her room. They had left the door open and they hadn't realized I was back, because Julie was yelling . . . well, not exactly endearments, more like, “Suck me, suck me, work that tongue in there you motherfucker.” I took one step into the room and saw them both on the floor,naked. Don had his head between Julie’s legs and was tonguing her to orgasm. Julie lay on her back, holding her legs wide apart and Don was just really into her. I stood and watched for a couple of minutes, mesmerized. Eventually, I realized I was spying on them and felt terrible about it. I left the room, half closing the door and opened the front door again, closing it loudly to announce my arrival. They quieted down, and I milled around in the kitchen until they came out." "Don was first, fully dressed. Julie followed wearing her dress, albeit not completely buttoned and stuff. Don seemed awkward and left a couple minutes later while I pretended not to notice anything unusual about Julie." "We made small talk for a while; but all I could think about was getting into my room alone so that I could finger myself. But, Julie wouldn't leave me alone. She followed me. Just wanted to talk she said." "And so we were just talking about nothing and everything, when out of the blue she said, "You know, I saw you at the door." "I must have blushed twelve different shades of red. I started stammering "I didn't realize . . ." "Julie interrupted me to say, "It's okay. I knew you were watching Rach. It really turned me on." "I was confused. I mean, I knew we were super-close and comfortable with each other. She knew I was a virgin, (technically) and I was very much aware Julie was bisexual, but I’d never really thought of girls as, well . . . so Julie hadn’t freaked me out." "To me, Julie was a great friend and roomie. And she was great looking and super intelligent, always surrounded by great looking guys and gals." "Me? I consider myself a loser, a big loser. No one’s ever gone after me. That is, or was until . . . a moment or so later, when Julie just leaned over, and kissed me on the lips." "While I was struggling to compute the series of tingling sensations the kiss caused, Julie started playing with my breasts. I dared not tell her how good it felt. Her hands were beneath my T-shirt, fingertips dialing my nipples, listening for the fall of tumblers. And I was tumbling, fast." "I twisted away saying, "Oh, Julie, what are you doing?" "She shushed me, and said in a parental tone, "I want to do this. Do you?" Her fingers remained in place, hovering, feeling my nipples rising against her palms." "I was helplessthe situation just overpowered me. I caved in and let Julie go on with her seduction." "Julie told me to lift my arms and I did, enabling her to lift off my T-shirt. Then she delicately cupped my breasts together and flicked at them with her tongue. I jumped as her tongue made contact. My areola lit up in a welt of goosebumps." "Oh it was heavenly!" "I know I moaned. The echoes are still reverberating around my room." "Suddenly her face was in the cool hollow between my breasts. My ear was the next thing she tasted. She was telling me how she was going to make love to me and that I was going to love it." "Then, handling me as though I were sports car, she shifted gears and said, “ I’d like to meet your parents sometime.” “Okay,” I mumbled my voice flat, without emotion." “I mean it, I’d really like to meet them. I’d like to see where you live . . .” "As she spoke, she took my hand, and led me to her room and placed me on her bed where she eased my skirt up around my hips and removed my panties." “She continued talking. I was hypnotized." “I’d like to see where you live,” she repeated." “Visit you there,” she kissed my stomach." “Take you to lunch,” she licked my navel." “Take you shopping,” she was plucking at my pubic hair." “Home,” I waited for the moment." “Everything.” Nothing." "I watched as she reached into her nightstand drawer and grabbed a vibrator." “Okay,” I said." "It seemed like it took forever to get the words out. I wasn’t sure if they were slurred or not. I wondered briefly if I’d been drugged. I repressed the thought and relaxed even more." "Julie flicked the vibrator on and worked it against the skin covering my clit. With her other hand she gently massaged my scalp with her fingernails. I was so turned on I couldn’t believe it. I wasn’t eighteen anymore I was younger, much younger." "I was about to cum big time, when the vibrator stopped. Julie shifted position and started it again. This time she drew a line down one side of my spine with it." "God that felt great! A parallel movement followed it. Then Julie moved to a spot under the wings of my shoulder bone, both her hands were into my armpits tickling, but I wasn’t laughing. It was intensely erotic." "She drew me against her mouth, tilting my head to an angle where our lips meshed perfectly. I had never been kissed this way before. My tongue became hers. This was why people kissed. It didn’t matter that she was also female, in fact I don’t believe it could have happened were she male." "Before I could protest, Julie broke the kiss and moved downward, down, down, down,her tongue was everywhere." "It rimmed my ass and I was sooooo shocked, sooooo amazed, sooooo thrilled. No one had ever done that to me before. I feverishly bucked my way to an immediate climax. It was my fastest cum ever." "Julie carried me over again with her tongue forking its way through my liquid flesh. And still she kept licking and sucking!" "An eternity later, she let me calm down, and we started talking about variations. Julie said she wanted to fuck me with a dildo. I was not for it. But she convinced me, rather easily, now that I think about it. I guess this was because I trusted her more than any guy, but I was nervous about being hurt." "Julie had me lay on my back and placed two pillows under my ass. We agreed that she'd use KY-jelly . . . she did, taking her time to work it inside me." "From somewhere a jar of sweet smelling oil appeared and Julie gently applied it around the folds of my labia, with particular attention to my hole. I was hot again. I can’t recall ever being that hot before. I smelt my sexual arousal filling the bedroom." "I was trembling in anticipation and shivered in delight as two of Julie’s fingers entered my cunt! But she pulled out almost immediately!" “Just testing,” she said laughing and meeting my eye before turning away and kissing my belly button. But she didn’t stop there, instead she moved lower, running her mouth into my bush and yanking several hairs out with her teeth." “Ouch! Don’t hurt me,” I yelled." “Only a very little, my sweet one, my love,” she crooned, “now be quiet we don’t want a crowd outside the door.” “Now kiss my cock, will you?” "I nearly fainted hearing her talk like that. No one ever had ever . . . then she was dripping the oil on the dildo’s shaft . . . then the cockhead touched my genitals . . . my pussy opened as if by magic. I was captivated!" "It went in smoothly!" "Julie began to twist it and continued to gently coax it in deeper, very gently, crooning her wondrous words in my ear all the while. It was sheer rapture." “Ohhh... “ I sighed, totally content, all the apprehension dissolved by Julie’s caresses." “It's so big. I can feel myself stretching . . . out,” I murmured contentedly." "Moments later I was helping things along, stroking the underside of my clit with my thumb." ”It feels so good," I murmured." "Julie told me it was time to increase the pressure and did. “Pop!” "There went my virginity. I thought at the time, it wasn’t such a big deal after all. After that, it was great . . . honestly." “Yeah, right. Well, bite me and my busted cherry.” I’m laughing now, thinking about it. But I recall telling Julie, “I don't think this is working.” "Of course she pushed harder." "I must’a yelled pretty loud, the girl in the next room threw a shoe or something at the wall and told us to keep it down. Julie had the head maybe halfway in. I was afraid to look. I imagined all sorts of blood gushing out, but felt pretty good at this point. To my mind, my pussy was stretched further than I had imagined it might be during childbirth. I found myself gripping the side of the bed, with my head bobbing back and forth. The pleasure was intense, the pain, well there wasn’t any." I started to shout. "Ohhhh, fuck me Julie. Fuck me with your toy! I want it sooooo bad.” "Julie, startled by my outcry, shoved my panties into my mouth and then leaned on the dildo with her hand and forced it deeper into me." “Goddamn it Rach,” she said moments later, ”you took it all. I’m proud of ya.” "My reply was muffled, but for the record I yelled into the soiled panties, “Fuck yeah! I’m not far from it now.” "Only it came out, “Nuck nar! Um nuh mar mumnit ow!” "The ribs of the dildo pushed against the taut walls of my pussy. The sensations were more than I could bear and I came and came and came. Julie deftly manipulated the rod inside me, twisting it, pumping it up and down, in and out.“ “Ahhhhhhhhhhh! I’m on the edge right now just thinking about it . . . time out!” “Whew! That was a good one.” I should note that I’ve been diddling my clit as I record this and well . . . I got carried away.