© Sauce*Box, Winter 1996/97.
All rights revert to author.
Dear Diary
by Lisa Prosimo
June 5, 1971
Dear Diary:
Today my dad took Eddie to the lumber mill to buy the wood to build the
treehouse he's been wanting. His best friend, Charlie, went along, too.
They wouldn't take me, said I would only be in the way. My mother felt sorry
for me and gave me this stupid diary.
P.S. Don't get any ideas. This doesn't mean that I'm going to write in you all the time.
July 19, 1971
Dear Diary:
Now that the treehouse is finished, Eddie and Charlie and a bunch of other
boys play up there all the time. Tonight they're going to sleep up there.
They won't let me in. I hate them.
September 17, 1971
Dear Diary:
Today is my birthday. I am 10. When I blew out the candles on my cake I
wished that Eddie would let me in the treehouse. After the party he climbed
up there with Charlie and Butch and they closed the door. I called to them,
but they ignored me. I really hate them.
October 8, 1971
Dear Diary:
Dad said Eddie and his friends could sleep up in the treehouse one last
time before the cold weather comes in. I looked out my window to try to
see what they were giggling about up there, but I couldn't see anything
because they had the door shut and the windows covered. They howled for
hours, and finally I couldn't stand it anymore. I sneaked up the ladder
and peeked inside. Eddie, Charlie and Butch were measuring their things
with a ruler. I watched them for a long time, but then I got so nervous,
I nearly fell out of the tree. I never saw a boy's thing before. It's so
ugly, but I thought about it all night long, anyway.
September 17, 1972
Dear Diary:
It's been a long time, hasn't it? Well, I never promised to write in you
often, now did I? Anyway, Today I was eleven. Dad and Mom gave me a nice
party. Eddie and Charlie were there. Butch, too. Eddie and Butch are jerks,
but Charlie was nice to me. I never noticed how blue his eyes are.
December 25, 1973
Dear Diary:
Today I got the best present in the world. Charlie told me he thinks I'm
beautiful. When no one was around, he leaned over and kissed me. I think
I'm in love.
June 23, 1974
Dear Diary:
Charlie and me kiss all the time, but it's not enough. He wants to touch
me there, (I can't say it) but I won't let him. Sometimes I let him touch
my boobs. It's going to be a wonderful summer.
July 15, 1974
Dear Diary:
Tonight Charlie begged me to touch him there. He actually said the "C"
word and I started to scream. "You don't love me," he said, "or
you would." I love him so much, but I'm scared to touch him. It's not
that I don't want to, it's just that once I do, he'll want me to do something
else. Then what?
August 21, 1974
Dear Diary:
Today I got my first period. I cried like an idiot. "Now you can get
pregnant," Mom said. I swore to myself that I would never again let
Charlie touch me.
May 11, 1975
Dear Diary:
I've been miserable for so long. Charlie has been going with Christa for
months and I know he's fucking her. I don't mind saying the words now. All
my friends curse since we found out there are no better words to describe
certain feelings. Carol's favorite word is, shit. "Shit on you."
"Shit face." "What's all this shit?" "Eat shit
and die." I quite like saying "fuck" and "fucking"
actually. "That fucking teacher." "What the fuck are you
doing?" "Where the fuck are you going?" "Fucking Christa
has my Charlie." "Charlie's fucking Christa, and I wish he were
fucking me." I still catch Charlie looking at me when he comes over
to see Eddie, who is fucking Melanie, by the way. I wonder what he thinks
of when he sees me. Does he think, "Fuck her, I can have whoever I
want." It's true. Charlie is the best looking boy in town and he can
have whoever he wants. Right now he wants fucking Christa. I wish I had
let Charlie screw me, but I was just too scared. I dream that he's screwing
me sometimes and I wake up wet between my legs. I've started to touch myself
down there and it feels good. Christa has Charlie and I have my fingers.
It hardly seems fair.
September 15, 1975
Dear Diary:
This is worth blowing the dust off you just to tell you: Mr. Morse, the
new American History teacher, is a fox! Aside from Charlie, the son-of-bitch,
Mr. Morse is the best looking guy in town. Yesterday he talked about the
Revolution and the Minute Men. Carol leaned over and whispered in my ear,
"I wonder if he's a minute man, or if he does it nice and slow."
I closed my eyes and pictured him fucking me nice and slow and by the time
class was over, my panties were wet. Guess what I went home and did? Every
boy I go with wants to fuck me. I'm not interested. But if Mr. Morse wanted
to fuck me--well, that would be another story. I think. Of course, we'd
have to go somewhere away from this town. Maybe we could meet on some exotic
isle. Who am I kidding? In two days I'll be fifteen and I'm so bored with
it all, I can't bear it. Men stink! All except my dad, of course.
April 9, 1976BR> Dear Diary:
Well, what do you know? It's been nearly a year since I picked you up to
write in you. My life's been pretty dull (relatively) until today. What
happened today? Charlie came by to see Eddie and to tell him he got accepted
to Stanford (that's in California!) He'll be leaving at the end of August.
He told Eddie in a very loud voice that he wasn't seeing Christa anymore.
Needless to say, I was thrilled. I've had lots of boyfriends since Charlie,
of course, but none like him. I even let my boyfriends touch me, and I've
touched them, too. Let me be more specific: They touched my pussy; I touched
their cocks. But I pretended they were Charlie the whole time. I thought
I had lost him to Christa forever. At our house today, in between goofing
around with Eddie, I caught him looking at me whenever I came into the living
room. It was hard to be around him during the Christa thing, but now that
I know they're not together, it seems easier. I said a couple of things,
tried to act casual. I must have said something funny because Charlie laughed.
I congratulated him on getting into Stanford, and even shook his hand.
May 6, 1976
Dear Diary:
You'll never guess. Charlie, who's been coming over practically every day
and flirting with me without really saying a thing, called tonight to talk
to Eddie. I answered the phone. I told Charlie Eddie went somewhere with
my dad and we got to talking. We talked some about nothing and then out
of the blue, Charlie asked me to go to his prom with him! Can you believe
it? I still can't. He still cares for me, after all. Mom and I are going
shopping for my dress on Saturday.
May 27, 1976
Dear Diary:
Tonight Charlie told me he has always loved me, and probably always will.
When he kissed me it was as if we had never been apart. His lips seemed
to fit perfectly over mine. When he slipped his tongue into my mouth, I
sucked on it and didn't want to let it go. When his hands went up to my
breasts, it seemed so natural; and when he put his finger inside my pussy,
it felt right. I said, "Charlie, I want us to make love tonight."
He looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes and said, "Are you sure?"
I nodded. I was never so sure of anything in all my life. "Where?"
he asked. "My parents are home and so are yours." We were sitting
in Charlie's VW Bug. "Certainly not here," he said. "Park
down the street," I whispered. When we had walked back to my house,
I took Charlie's hand and led him into the back yard. We stopped in front
of the tree and I pointed up. "There," I said. "In the treehouse."
We took off our shoes and silently climbed up. When we got inside I stepped
out of my frilly dress and laid it on the floor. "Just like a fancy
bedspread," I said. Charlie began kissing me while he removed my bra
and panties. The moon was bright and his eyes were shiny. I helped him out
of his clothes, too. When we were naked, we lay down on my dress. I thought
to myself: I am really going to do it. And with someone I have always loved.
I was so happy and excited--I mean apart from feeling hot for Charlie. I
can't explain it, but it was like when I received my first Holy Communion.
And it was like being set free, too. I looked into Charlie's face, so white
and pale in the evening shadows, and I whispered, "I love you, Charlie."
Charlie put his hands on my back, murmuring back his love for me. His palms
traveled over my shoulders and down to my ass, leaving a trail of thrills
along the way. I moaned into Charlie's neck and he brought his hands around
to my tits. Charlie bent his head and I felt his tongue soft and wet on
my nipple. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the sensations that shot
through my body. Charlie's lips moved down along my stomach in little kisses.
He rubbed his lips on my thighs, first the right, then the left. I lay perfectly
still, waiting for the next kiss, the one he would place between my legs.
Outside, it was so quiet, as if the night had stopped to watch us. I caught
the smell of my dad's fresh mown lawn and I wanted to cry, I was so happy.
The kiss came as expected, with Charlie gently pulling my pussy lips apart
and planting his wet sweet mouth over my clitoris. I had never let any of
my boyfriends do that to me. Charlie's tongue went round and round in little
circles, then up and down, and finally, deep inside me. I moved against
his mouth; my hips seemed to have a mind of their own. His tongue was exploring,
searching, and I felt myself drift until everything was gone but Charlie's
tongue and my pussy and the wonderful feeling that built and built until
the darkness exploded all around me into a trillion stars. That's just what
it felt like and it's something I will never forget. Charlie pulled himself
up and kissed me on the mouth and I felt him hard against my leg. I loved
him so much and wanted to please him the same way he had pleased me. "Charlie,"
I whispered, "teach me how to do that to you." His breath came
quickly against my lips. "Will you? You are so sweet and beautiful."
He kissed me again and I moved my hand over his shaft. Charlie was so hard
and smooth. I looked down and in the moonlight could see the outline of
his cock inside my hand. Just looking excited me all over again and I felt
a new tugging between my legs. "Stick your tongue out and flick around
the head," he said. I bent down and did what he said. I had never touched
a cock with my tongue and I can't explain what a thrill it was! It was silky,
its feel against my tongue not unlike the feel of satin against my skin.
"Ohhhhhh," Charlie moaned. He whispered my name as if he were
in love with the sound of it. "Now bring your lips over it," he
said. As I did, I could feel Charlie's body tense. "God, that feels
good," he said. He didn't have to tell me what to do anymore, it just
seemed to come naturally somehow. Instinctively I knew where to touch him
with my tongue to make him feel good. I licked around the ridge; up the
underside of the head. I took him completely into my mouth in long, slurping
sucks and listened to him groan above me. It felt good to make Charlie feel
good. He pulled his cock out of my mouth slowly, his breath coming in gasps
as he spoke. "I don't want to come yet," he said. "I want
to come inside you after I make you come again." His talk excited me
even more. His words were sexy. Come. Inside you. My other boyfriends had
never talked much, the pokes and strokes were always silent and quick. Compared
to this, they didn't seem real anymore. This was real; it was special. Charlie
started touching me again, tweaking my nipples gently while he sucked on
my lips. I couldn't help myself, I bit him and he pulled away, laughing.
"Oh, please, please. Oh my God," I said, pulling him close to
me again. I was losing my head by now and couldn't see anything funny about
the situation. His hand went down and he slipped two fingers inside me.
"Your cunt is so wet," he said, and the sound of his voice; the
word, made me dizzy. Cunt. No one had ever used that word before, I had
only seen it in the books I sneaked into my room late at night. Charlie
pushed me onto my back and spread my legs wide. He pushed in slightly, then
out, then back in again, and each time he went a little deeper. Then suddenly,
he stopped. I began to protest. "I don't want to hurt you," he
said. At this point, who cared? I grabbed his shoulders and brought him
over me again. I think that's when I started to cry. Charlie knelt over
me with his arms on either side of my body, and licked my tears away, all
the while whispering how much he loved me. "Fuck me, Charlie,"
I begged. "Please." I pressed up into him and he slid his cock
in again, this time pushing harder into me. I felt flesh give way, as if
a piece of cloth were ripping, but it didn't matter. I wanted to be as close
to Charlie as was possible. The most marvelous rumblings began at the base
of my spine and I lost control, grabbed for Charlie's ass and rammed myself
up into him. God, it was wonderful! My whole body dissolved and all I could
feel was my pussy--my cunt--throbbing around Charlie's cock. By now, Charlie
was gone, too. He pushed in and out of me, his breathing loud in my ear.
I felt him deep inside me one second and then felt empty the next as he
pulled out. In, out, in, out. His movements caused a friction at my center,
like an itch that feels so good because it's being scratched. I never dreamed
it could feel like this. All the love poems I had ever read found their
way into my head. All the words of the romantic novels I had lately devoured
were swimming around in there, too. We were fucking each other so perfectly,
so completely, and I never wanted it to end. I went sailing once when I
was little. The motion of the boat reminded me of this, only now I was sailing
over the clouds and the moon. Charlie was gasping and I clamped onto him.
He screamed into my neck while his cock pulsed inside me. I could feel him
shoot hot come into me and as soon as he did I lost myself and went skyrocketing
off into space again. After what seemed a long while, our breathing quieted
and Charlie pulled his cock out, and with it a stream of wet warmth. It
felt so good to fall asleep in each other's arms.
October 9, 1995
Dear Diary:
Why, you old son-of-a-bitch! Who thought you would show up after all these
years? I just finished reading the last entry I made and I have to tell
you: I was sixteen again, excited again, just as I was that night. Charlie
went to watch our son, Mike's football practice this afternoon. I had been
meaning to clean out the basement for ages and here you were in an old box.
You know what I'm going to do this evening after Mike and Alison are asleep?
I'm going to wear that new sexy silk thing Charlie bought me for my birthday,
and take Champagne into our bedroom. Then, I'm going to read to Charlie.
I know he'll be just as thrilled as I was to relive our first time together.
Then we're going to fuck each other's brains out, same as we've been doing
for the last nineteen years. I want you to know that as unbelievable as
it may seem, our sex life keeps getting better and better. God, we've been
lucky! I often think of the treehouse and what it meant to me. I only wish
I could have saved a stick, even an old nail. Too bad I never thought of
it. Well, old friend, at least I found you.
* * * * *
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