Sunday, Feb 21

Dear diary,

I'm aware that you are but an inanimate object, yet you've always been my best listener and my confessional. I know you can keep these secrets, so dark I wouldn't even entrust them to my best friends, let alone my slutty little sister Larissa.

Something happened last Friday. No, it didn't just 'happen.' I did it myself. Well, I didn't do it just then. I did it like a million times before, but it never felt so... intense? Kinky? Wrong? Hot? I really can't describe how it felt. It just felt different this time. There's that.

I'm writing this down to get if off my chest, because it's been bugging me ever since it happened. I don't really know how to put it into words or where to start. It's so difficult, but I'll have to give you some explanation, I suppose.

I never told anyone, not even you. Out of fear someone might read you? But this is ridiculous. Neither my parents nor Larissa know that you even exist, so why would anyone of them read you? Also they don't know I added a false bottom to my drawer where I keep the key to the lock which is sealing your figurative mouth.

I know it doesn't matter to you since you are patient and probably won't even notice me doing it, but I'll have to take a deep breath or two before writing everything down.

Alright, I'm letting the cat out of the bag.

I masturbate to thoughts about Mr. Joules, our neighbor. I know it's pathetic, because he's happily married and more than twice my age and has kids of his own who are already attending college. This means even his kids are a lot older than me. He could be my daddy, for god's sake! But just thinking of him makes my pussy all tingly and wet.

I don't know. He's just... I mean... He's so freaking sexy. And his raspy voice when he greets me is so manly that it makes my mouth and pussy water. He's probably just being polite, but he's soooo hot when he is. Beneath that well-mannered mask, he's gotta think I'm some kind of freaky, goofy seventeen year-old, I guess.

Yeah, what am I to him anyway? Probably some stupid kid just like all these other useless same-age sluts (like my sister) or wannabe-studs (in the case of the boys). Yeach! Gross!

I mean, sure, I'm more than curious about sex, but that's no reason to rush things, really. Look at Larissa! Ever since some random guy popped her cherry she's become a total slut.

I don't really get it, though. She's just a year younger than me, but she's so immature (even if sixteen is not an age to be especially mature, but she's still so childish). How does she do this? Just like a village bicycle, every boy at school got to ride her at some point or another. Seriously, what do they see in her? I hate her.

As you know, my silent listener, I'm not exactly a saint myself either. I might still be a virgin, yes, but I surely gathered some rather mediocre foreplay experience with two or three boys as well. That doesn't mean I'm sucking every cock I can get, though. Just thinking about it makes me wanna puke! I mean, look at the boys my age! They just give me the creeps. I can't imagine Mr. Joules was like that when he was my age. He's just perfect. If only I could get his attention somehow.

Still, I know it will never happen. I see the way he looks at me. Sure, I know (because he told me) he doesn't think much of sluts like Larissa and prefers girls – or better: women – who are more reasonable or innocent-ish or whatever you wanna call it, but what would he ever find in me? Yes, I do often play the innocent girl next door for him – which is not very difficult if I get compared to Larissa. Still, he probably sees me as a dumb little pubescent kid who's trying to explore her boundaries.

If so, why is he always so nice to me? How does he not realize he could have me anytime. I just want to get him to fuck me properly. Then again, why would he fuck me? Me, the oh-so-'innocent' stupid little kid next door.

Sometimes late at night when he and his wife think it'll pass unnoticed, they leave the lights on while they fuck, and I can see everything from the dark of my bedroom.

Judging from his wife's facial expressions Mr Joules gotta be amazing. And he's huge too. I'd so love to feel his huge cock stretching my little pussy and filling it with his steamy spunk. I fantasize about his dick, his fingers and his lips day and night. I picture myself kissing his shaft and licking his balls, or feeling his perfectly trimmed stubble tickling my pink snatch while he'd be circling my clit with his wet tongue. Just the mere thought of whispering a dirty 'fuck me' into his ear or screaming out his name while he licks me to my orgasm makes me soaking wet.

I know this is wrong, but I'll get crazy if I don't tell anyone, and I know you, dear diary, won't betray me and won't judge me for my perverted crush on Mr. Joules.

It feels relieving writing these lines, even if it also makes me think about him in these inappropriate ways and only feeds my insatiable lust for him all the more.

So last Friday I decided to take things a step further and risk getting caught by my neighbor myself. That is, I left the blinds open and the light switched on so that he might see me masturbate for him if he peeked through the window of his study.

That night after getting naked, just like every time I was about to play with my little snatch, I pictured how he'd be kissing me while he'd squeeze my perky breasts.

I'd giggle from his three-day beard tickling the skin of my neck while he'd be sucking on it.

He'd caress my sides with his rough, manly hands and I'd squirm and sigh in lust from the feel of my nipples being bitten into.

While picturing his touches, kisses, bites and licks, I was using my own hands and fingers, trying to give myself all those sensations Mr. Joules would give me in my lewd fantasy. I'm sure it would feel a lot better if it was himself touching me in these forbidden ways, but this is not going to happen, ever. It still felt good enough and the fact that he might have been spying on me in that very moment only turned me on like I had never been before.

I bit my lower lip, and sighed: “Please, Mr. Joules, lick my little teenage pussy.”

With the blinds kept up and the light switched on and hoping he had his eyes on me, my lust was so vivid I thought I could actually feel his stubble tickling my inner thighs as his lips slowly came closer to my honey pot in my mind.

There he would wet my pussy lips with his tongue with slow licks. He would have a tiny stream of my juices flowing into his trimmed beard and would try to lap it with his tongue to smear it all over my erect clit. He would stroke my belly while sucking my button between his lips and I'd be moaning for more and more of the pleasure he'd be giving me.

Picturing all of this, I let my fingers play with my little nub. Moans and sighs dripping with lust were escaping my throat as well as an occasional 'Mr. Joules'. This time I could almost feel it was him who was giving me pleasure, licking my clit to orgasm. I lost myself in my silly little fantasy and imagined it was his cock and not my fingers that were penetrating and pounding my tight snatch, seeking for my g-spot.

In case he was actually looking, my legs were spread wide for him so he would see how ready I was to give in to his sexy charms while I kept digging my fingers into my pussy over and over again. I wanted him to see me pleasure myself. I wanted him to witness my orgasm. I wanted him to know he could claim me as his own anytime he liked and use me as his slutty cum bucket whenever he felt the need to.

My free hand pinched my nipples, pulled them, twisted them as I imagined him to do instead of my own digits. The imagination of his cock and his hands felt so real that my body writhed and squirmed all from alone in ways it had never before. The pleasure grew even greater when I tried to guess what his stubble would feel like on my neck. I had to restrain myself from giggling out aloud, even.

Then, as my climax approached at full speed, I pictured how he'd be reaching between my legs and flicking my clit with his fingers while still screwing me to facilitate my satisfaction. He'd tell me he was about to come himself as well, to which I'd moan: “Please, Mr. Joules. Fill my little pussy with your steaming love juice.”

Seconds later, motivated by my lewd demand, he'd pump all his seed up my channel and let it overflow with liquid, white fire.

I came that very moment I pictured him filling my pussy and had to restrain myself from screaming his name out loud. That's how intense the imaginary sex with him felt.

Still picturing him being with me, I felt how he'd slowly take his flaccid cock out of my pussy and how a stream of his steamy spunk would be flowing out of it. Wanting to taste his cum, I dipped one finger in the slippery nectar that emanated from my entrance and brought the finger to my lips. As I licked the fluid off my fingertip and realized I was tasting my own juices, I snapped back to reality.

I looked at Mr. Joules' study window and realized why it had all felt so real and intense. It was not the exhibitionist act I had pulled off by not lowering the blinds; no, it was because I had actually felt Mr. Joules' eyes being glued to me while masturbating.

I couldn't tell for sure if he had really been watching me or if it had just been the thrill of the danger of getting caught by my secret crush. I really don't know. Yet, I know I will do it again for him.

I know, my dear diary, that I can entrust you with this darkest secret of mine without risking that it may ever see the light of day again. I know you, my silent listener, will not cheat me and give away my cherished secret, nor will you judge me for my forbidden fantasies.

Dear diary, good night and sweet dreams. I will fill you with more of my adventures in the time coming.

Lucy

***

Larissa winced as she heard the front door shut. That had to be her elder sister, the author of the lines she had just read.

She quickly closed Lucy's diary, attached the heavy lock that went with it and put it back under the pillow of her sister's bed. She placed the key to the lock in the false bottom of the bedside table drawer. Larissa knew the drill from months of unnoticed spying on her sister's diary. Finally it seemed to pay off. This was pure gold!

She left her sister's bedroom and went to the kitchen, trying her best to act casually. On the way, she crossed her sibling who threw her a 'hi Ris' to which the latter greeted her back.

Once Lucy had disappeared in her bedroom, Larissa couldn't wipe that knowing, devilish smirk off her face any more.