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.

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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!

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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."