Chapter 1 – The Temptation
I knew it was unethical. I also knew that if Beth and Steve ever found out, I'd not only lose my two best friends, but undoubtedly my girlfriend as well. Regardless of the consequences though, my willpower couldn't hold out. All thoughts of proper moral conduct were brushed aside, as easily as the wave of a hand might shoo away a pesky fly. With a sorrowful farewell, my conscience flittered away and I slowly opened Beth's diary.
My invasion was greeted with a soft crackling sound, the unmistakable utterance of a stiff leather cover opening almost against its will. I quickly turned to the most recent entry, and the smell of fresh ink on paper invaded my nostrils, as if I could learn Beth's most personal thoughts simply by inhaling, rather than reading the graceful script of her polished handwriting. I drew the scent in, tickling my nose hairs, but chose to use sight rather than smell, to study her thoughts.
"June 20, 1997 (Friday) - Steve and I are off to Cancun. I'm so excited! We haven't had a REAL vacation in a long time. I'm a little nervous too, though. I have a few things that I want to get out in the open before we start having fun. I'm optimistic that everything will work out though, and I'm sure it'll be a wonderful trip. Beaches to relax on, Mayan ruins to explore, and a cozy room at a fancy resort to make love in. What more could we ask for? I can't wait! Well, that's all for now. We asked Simon to stay at our place for the week to take care of Rufus. He should be here soon, so I don't have time for a lengthy entry. We should be back on the 28th."
As Beth's words explained, they had asked me to house-sit, or rather dog-sit, for them while they were on vacation. Although I'd only moved to the Phoenix area about a year prior to that, I considered them among my closest friends, so I'd agreed without a second thought. However, after holding Beth's diary in my hands, a second thought, as well as third, fourth, and fifth thoughts, were now compounding. The temptation was just too much. If I'd only said "Golly gee whiz, I'm sorry, I have plans. I can't watch your house while you're gone," I would never have been put in the position to betray their trust. Of course, I'd also have sounded like Gomer Pyle, and that probably wouldn't have made me feel much better.
Anyway, after taking Beth and Steve, and enough suitcases to fill up half the cargo space of a Boeing 707 to Sky Harbor International Airport, I returned to their place with my own bag in hand, prepared for a week of minor boredom, combined with the new experience of living with a large, albeit lovable, German Shepherd. Rufus decided to initiate me properly, by waking me early the next morning with a slobbering tongue and some absolutely horrendous breath. Following my failed attempt at ignoring him, I clumsily trailed him to the backdoor and let him out to water the grass. I guess I got bored, because the next thing I knew I was snooping through my best friends' house. I don't know where this perverse curiosity came from. It's not like I'm the kind of person who goes probing through every medicine cabinet that comes within his reach.
When I opened Beth's underwear drawer, the first thing I noticed was that most of her panties and bras were quite modest. Nearly everything was regular white cotton, like something found in a JC Penny catalog. There were a few sexier lacy numbers tucked way in the back, as if she never wore them. For some reason, I was surprised by this. Maybe it was because considering all the suitcases I helped transport, it was astounding to find even one stitch of clothing in the house, much less an almost full underwear drawer. More likely though, it was because Beth is an extraordinarily attractive woman, and would look amazing in anything sold by Victoria's Secret, or Fredrick's of Hollywood. Unsurprisingly, I made the assumption that someone as beautiful as her would naturally wear sexy under-things. My wonderment at this new information was quickly set aside though, at the second thing I noticed -- Beth's journal. As soon as I saw the gold-stenciled word "Diary" across the black faux-leather cover, I put it back where I'd found it, closed the drawer, and sat on the bed staring at the dresser for what seemed like hours. I kept telling myself that going through their stuff was wrong, and reading Beth's diary was practically criminal.
After leaving the room and then returning to gaze at the diary's resting place several more times, I remembered that Rufus was still outside, so I retreated to the backdoor, trying to give that good little angel on my shoulder time to set me straight. After letting the happy-go-lucky drool machine back into the house though, I found myself being drawn back to the bedroom, this time with Rufus shadowing me. I don't even remember opening the dresser drawer, much less pushing Beth's panties aside and retrieving the diary. My next recollection is scratching Rufus behind the ears, as I turned the journal to the red ribbon marking Beth's most recent reflections. After reading the aforementioned entry, I closed the diary again, sat on the edge of the large bed, looked Rufus in the eyes, and apologized for my weakness. He gave me a look only a dog could bestow. With a twinkle in his eyes and a wag of his tail, he as much as told me, "Go ahead! I don't blame you. Tell me if there's anything interesting about me in there." So, with the vivid image of a diminutive trident-wielding devil beating the crap out of a tiny angel, passing briefly before my eyes, I turned to the first page, dated January 1, 1996, the beginning of the previous year.
As I paged through Beth's memories, it became apparent that she didn't make daily entries, but jotted down short comments about events that either delighted her, or annoyed her on any given day. It was evident that most of her gloomy thoughts were work-related, and most of her sunny thoughts were related to Rufus and Steve. I felt obligated to inform Rufus about many of the entries that mentioned him. Although, I deliberately refrained from telling him how upset Beth had been when he'd chewed up her favorite pair of running shoes. I figured there was no point in rubbing his nose in something in which he was undoubtedly already ashamed. Actually, although her words were well written, and often quite amusing, it was a relief to find nothing truly captivating. It would be much more difficult to return the book to its hiding place, if I'd found something scandalous, or mysterious. After paging through it and finding nothing enticing, I knew I could put it away and pretend I'd never seen it.
However, as I closed the book and moved toward the dresser, I was suddenly struck with the same thought Rufus had. It occurred to me, since her diary dated back before we'd become acquainted, that it might be interesting to see if she'd made any observations about me when we'd met. I quickly sat back down and began turning pages until I'd come to some notes dated in June of 1996. After skimming through several uncomplimentary remarks about her mother (apparently related to the constant nagging Beth had to endure for not entering the club of motherhood), I'd found my name.
"June 15, 1996 (Saturday) - Steve dragged me to dinner tonight to meet a friend of his from work, who just moved into town. I really didn't want to go, since I figured I'd end up listening to the two of them discuss work all night, but I must admit, I ended up having a really great time. His friend Simon is very charming, and quite intelligent. He's gorgeous, too. Great derriere! When he left the table to answer the call of nature, I couldn't help but stare at his ass until he turned the corner. I can't recall ever meeting a man who I was so instantly and unquestionably attracted to. It took Steve months of courting to make me open up the way Simon did in only a few hours. I couldn't believe how easy he was to talk to, and how easily I found myself flirting with him, and with Steve sitting right there the whole night!
"I feel terrible though. As soon as we got home, Steve headed for the bedroom, looking really depressed. Obviously he's upset with me for paying too much attention to Simon...and rightly so. I don't know if it's the guilt I'm feeling, or just the image of Simon running through my head, but I can't sleep. I think I'll go wake Steve up with a BJ. I don't do that nearly often enough to satisfy him. Maybe it'll make us both feel better."
I was floored. I had no idea Beth had found me attractive. I hadn't thought about that evening in a long time, but looking back, I realized how blind I had been, missing all the signs. At the time though, I had just been trying to make a good impression on my new friend's wife. The entries that followed were equally enlightening:
"June 16, 1996 (Sunday) – Well, the blowjob last night worked. Steve got so worked up, especially after watching me swallow his stuff, that he was ready for another round in record time. I got really excited too. I was so wet; he slid right in, and gave me quite a workout. I forgot all about Simon...for a few seconds anyway. I don't know for sure when it started, but it wasn't too long into our love making, that I realized with a shock, I was picturing Simon doing the thrusting. I feel horrible. I don't know what I'm going to do.
"June 17, 1996 (Monday) – I still can't get Simon out of my head. To make matters worse, Steve invited him over for a barbecue next Saturday. I fear seeing him again will make it all the more difficult to get him off my mind.
"June 19, 1996 (Wednesday) – I had the most erotic dream of my life last night. I was sitting in a restaurant having a romantic dinner with Steve. There were flickering candles all over the room, red and pink rose petals decorated the tablecloth, and Steve was wearing a very handsome tuxedo. I glanced down at my food to grab a forkful of pasta, and realized I was stark naked! Then, before I felt it, I spied a very masculine hand rubbing my bare leg! I looked to my right, and discovered Simon, looking quite dapper in a tuxedo of his own, enjoying a pleasant conversation with Steve, while he continued to gently caress my thigh. Suddenly, Simon slipped his fingers between my legs and began rubbing my pussy. I dropped my fork in shock, clattering it against my plate, but the two of them just kept on talking to each other as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on.
"Then Steve astonished me when he pointed at my food and told Simon to go ahead and take a taste. It wasn't until he crawled under the table and pushed my legs apart, that I realized it wasn't my dinner that Steve had offered him. When Simon's tongue hit my labia, I threw back my head and moaned. I ran my fingers through his hair as he spread my lips with one hand and pushed the fingers of his other hand inside me, all the while lapping up my juices like they were a life giving sustenance. I woke myself up when I screamed with an earth shattering orgasm. Unfortunately, I also woke up Steve. He was genuinely concerned about me, which made me feel even more guilty when I told him it was just a nightmare. Luckily he had no reason to look under the covers. If he had, I would have had a lot of difficulty explaining my drenched panties, and the large wet spot on the sheets."
As I'd mentioned previously, I found Beth to be one of the most beautiful women I'd ever met, so the image she'd unwittingly created in my mind was enough to ignite the fire in my loins. Although I'd never seen her in anything more revealing than a pair of shorts and a tank top, I could easily imagine her shoulder length dark brown hair, draped over the back of a restaurant chair, and her slim, firm legs spread wide to allow the entry of my eager tongue and nimble fingers. I could almost taste her sweet ambrosia and feel her tight peach-shaped bottom in my palms as she threw her pelvis into the air upon her noisy climax. I literally had to shake myself out of the fantasy, so I could continue with my reading.
"June 20, 1996 (Thursday) – What am I going to do? These fantasies of Simon have to stop! Steve is so good to me, and I am deeply in love with him. I can't allow these thoughts to jeopardize my marriage.
"June 22, 1996 (Saturday) – I've been racking my brain since that dream, trying to figure out how to get Simon out of my head. I finally decided that finding him a woman might do the trick, so I invited Heather over to the barbecue today, and planted the seed that Simon is an eligible bachelor. It was just the four of us, so it was pretty obvious to Simon that we'd set him up, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he and Heather really hit it off. Simon helped Steve grill some chicken and some hamburgers, and we all had a wonderful time. I kept my flirting with Simon to a minimum, and made sure to pay lots of attention to Steve. It seemed to pay off, because even though I couldn't get my mind off Simon all day, there were no signs of jealousy from Steve. I got my just rewards, too. After Heather and Simon left, Steve laid into me with a passion I haven't seen from him since we were dating."
Chapter 2 – Love at First Sight
The memories of June 22, 1996 flooded into my head, dampening all the wild fantasies I'd previously conjured up involving Beth. I had arrived at Steve and Beth's house a little before noon, and proceeded to assist Steve in setting up the grill. While I stood there, beer in hand, trying not to laugh at Steve as he tried to figure out how to work his new propane barbecue, he warned me about Beth's desire to play Cupid. When I gave him a sour look though, he said, "Don't worry Simon. I've met the girl Beth's invited over. You won't be disappointed." I asked him to elaborate, but he just smiled and told me I'd have to wait until around 12:30.
I was watching the clock rather regularly, probably out of nerves, so as remarkable as it may seem, I remember hearing the doorbell ring at exactly 12:23. Steve and I were still out back trying our best to light the grill, while avoiding the embarrassing side effect of incinerating our eyebrows, so I waited as patiently as possible for Beth to escort their guest through the house and into the backyard. When Beth led Heather through the sliding glass door, onto the back patio, I thought she was some kind of apparition. Her beauty was almost overwhelming. She was petite, probably no more that five feet six inches, with flowing golden hair that tumbled over her shoulders in light waves ending above the small of her back. She had a smile that would brighten a dead man's day, and a sparkle in her cobalt eyes that indicated she hadn't lost her childhood playfulness. She came appropriately prepared for a summer barbecue in blue jean cutoffs and a red tank top with little white flowers printed all over it. The cutoffs made her slim tan legs look longer than they really were, and her tank top was tight enough to display the outline of a lace trimmed bra, which was certainly no larger than a C cup.
It took me a moment longer to come out of my daze than I would have preferred, because before I knew what was happening I was taking Heather's tiny hand in mine and introductions were being made by a beaming Beth. I'm not really sure if I looked as stupid as I felt, but since we ended up getting along during lunch, I try not to dwell on it.
The four of us ended up playing cards for most of the afternoon and into the evening, and we ended up barbecuing some more burgers and chicken for dinner. By the time 8:00PM rolled around I was walking Heather to her car, and making plans to see her the following evening. After I'd gotten her in the car and said goodnight to her, I turned around to say farewell to Beth and Steve, but was stopped by the musical call of my name. I turned around to meet those dazzling blue eyes and cheery smile once again, and listened to her chime, "I rented a movie yesterday that I still haven't had a chance to watch. You wouldn't be interested in coming over tonight to watch it with me, would you?"
"Sure. Hold on a sec, and I'll follow you."
She just continued to smile, and it was hard to tell in the dim amber light cast into the driveway by the street lamps, but I think her adorable freckled cheeks had been tinted crimson with embarrassment. I went inside and bid a quick adieu to Beth and Steve, and within minutes was back in my car following Heather to her apartment.
Upon allowing me entry into her charmingly modest abode, Heather laughed in a devilish way and remarked, "Now I've got you right where I want you. You're gonna regret agreeing to see this movie before asking what it was."
I played along, giving her the best terror-stricken look I could conjure, and whimpered, "Wha...What are you gonna make me watch?"
She replied, "For years I've been listening to people tell me that I am an uncultured swine because I've never watched Old Yeller. So the other night I finally picked it up, but haven't had enough guts to actually sit down and watch it."
I gave her a strange look and said, "Ooooookay."
"Look. Based on everything I've been told, I'm pretty sure I'm going to end up bawling like a little baby. I really hate crying, but I figured I can justify it if I catch you getting all teary eyed too. You know...the whole 'Misery Loves Company' theory."
"Yeah, I've been told the same thing. Get the tissue out, and let's get this over with," I said with mock indignation.
"You've never seen it either!"
A simple, "Oink. Oink." was my only reply.
Soon we were sitting on the couch, with a respectful distance between us, watching the opening credits. Even with getting along as well as we had that day, the room was still rife with nervous tension. I felt the need to alleviate this sense of awkwardness, so before the first line of dialogue was uttered, I threw my arms around Heather's petite frame and cried out, "Ohhhhhh...the horror! That poor wittle doggy!" and proceeded to mock-sob as realistically as I could. In my throws of pseudo-remorse, I inadvertently rested my head against Heather's heaving bosom, and as a result realized that I could feel a hardened nipple pressing up against my cheek, apparently piercing its way through the fabric of both her bra and shirt. I quickly pulled away with embarrassment, but Heather was in such hysterics that I guess she didn't realize what I'd done, so I rejoined her in laughter once again, and our lunacy lasted long enough that we had to rewind the tape, and start over.
About a half hour into the movie, I became conscious of the fact that Heather was sitting right next to me, grasping my hand in both of hers, and resting them in her lap. As the movie progressed, so did our physical contact. Sometime late in the course of the movie, she had released my hand from her grasp, leaving it resting on her smooth thigh, just close enough to her womanhood to tickle my pinkie finger with the frayed edge of her cutoffs. She curled up next to me, putting one arm around me, while resting her head on my shoulder. I had a difficult time following the story, due to the distraction of such an intoxicating creature in such close proximity. I spent untold minutes just reveling in the texture of the flawless skin on her tanned thigh, which hid seductively underneath my palm. What eventually woke me from my fugue-like state, was the pressure of Heather's soft breasts upon my arm, as she wriggled around, trying to make herself more comfortable. In her fidgeting, she'd also moved her legs, driving my shaky palm up her thigh into previously unknown territory. Whether the results of her movements were intentional, or not, I still do not know, but the heat emanating from her loins warmed my hand in its new resting place, trapped between both her thighs, pushed snugly up against her denim covered mound.