tagLoving WivesDear Dirty Diary Ch. 15

Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 15

byAdorable Laura©

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-in-law, 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."

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