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From: pariswaterman3399@my-deja.com
Subject: {ASSM} Repost:Recollections From a Diary-Chap 3.
Date: Sat, 27 Jan 2001 02:10:06 -0500
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Recollections From a Diary

By Paris Waterman
Copyright 1999, 2000,
2001


Chapter Three

 Malibu Barbie & The Diary


I don't know what to say about Barbie . . . Malibu Barbie, to be
precise. I hadn't seen her in all those years. Memories rushed in that
I'd pushed back into the recesses of my mind. Time was, I'd use it as
my primo dildo. Not the head, mind you, my hole isn't that big!  The
feet, always feet first. Yes, both of them. Once started, I'd poke my
fingers inside me and move the legs from side to side. I realized I'd
absentmindedly spread my legs apart and discovered I was cupping my
mons.

Julie had her hand over her mouth, silently laughing at me. I actually
felt myself blush. Holding the doll out to Julie, I recalled the
incredible feelings it produced. Like a twin cockhead, used with
terrific aim. It was my personal, unconventional, masturbation toy. And
suddenly I recalled Julie and I using it on each other. Oh, yeah,
Malibu Barbie was convenient in more than one way. We weren't very neat
in those days, and on occasion my parents would drop in unexpectedly,
Barbi was so much easier to explain than having a dildo or vibrator
lying around the apartment. My parents never figured out why I wouldn't
grow up and give up my doll collection. I found myself smiling at the
memory and then for no discernable reason both of us burst into a
giggling fit, just like teenagers.

It felt good.

Julie sat down next to me and hugged her knees to her chest as we
slowly regained our composure.

"That's the only thing I've taken out. Once I established you owned the
contents I left it alone, just waiting for the right moment to return
it to you. Please, go on keep going. Let's see what else is in there.
I'm anxious to see, damn it," she said feigning a morose expression, "I
have nothing left of my own from those days."

Like a kid on Christmas morning, I poked around inside the box and
removed several items that had little or no memories adhered to them.

Then I grasped the book.

"It's my diary!"

"Damn," Julie exclaimed. "I didn't know you kept a diary.
Does it . . .?"

"Oh, yeah. There's some hot stuff in here, but . . ."

"Come on, let's have a little sample."

"No Julie, it's my diary. It's sacred."

"Bullshit, Rach, a lot of time's gone by. Your Statute of Limitations
has run out."

"Get real girl. For God's sake, you're an attorney. Cut the crapola
will ya?"

Inexplicably, I found my grammar returning to that of my collegiate
level. Julie's too, for that matter.

"Come on, Rachel. Please. Pretty please."

"Alright, just a small sample. Then we go out, okay?"

"Yes, sure. Pick a sexy part, Okay?"

"Let's just see. I'm not promising anything. For all I know it may be
squeaky, pristine clean."

"Riiight! Just for fun, start at the beginning. Go ahead. Oh, wait,
want another cup of coffee?"

"Yeah, sure," I said turning to the first entry.

She was back in a flash and I was already deeply absorbed in the
opening page.

"Here. Your coffee."

"Oh, thanks," I said, and absentmindedly reached for the cup. Luckily I
grasped it firmly, took a sip and started to read aloud.

"Last night I came out of the shower as I have a thousand times before.
I stopped before the mirror and gazed at my nude body. This wasn't
unusual, but the way I was looking at my reflection was. For some
reason, I took a critical look at myself."

"Eighteen, really, really, long black hair. I noted (for the first
time?) my eyes were somewhat almond shaped, and hazel in color. I stood
five-foot eight inches barefoot and weighed exactly one hundred ten
pounds. I cupped my breasts in my hands, hmmmm, they didn't exactly
overflow them. My nipples began to stiffen. Watching them rise I
thought, "Still, 33C ain't all that bad."

"My hands drifted to my waist and I watched coyly as my lips formed the
words "twenty-three inches."

"Inexplicably, as if they had a mind all of their own, my hands traced
over my hips. I smiled into the mirror and whispered, "thirty-three
once again."

"I tossed my head and watched as my hair flew in a long arc through the
air and whipped around my shoulder covering one breast. I turned to the
side and checked out my profile. Speaking aloud I said confidently.
"Not bad, in the vital statistic department. Not bad at all."

"Facing away from the mirror I bent over and examined my ass in the
mirror. One pimple stared back. After dabbing it with alcohol, I gave
my cheek a nice gentle pat, and softly said, "I know you've turned a
few heads this week."

"My pubic hair had grown sufficiently so that it formed a neat
triangle, and I hadn't had to trim it to get it that way. I wondered if
the other girls had checked me out in the shower at the gym. Now why
would I wonder about that?"

                             ***

"Well, that's interesting, but not insightful, Rach," Julie stated
matter of factly. "You've managed to preserve those measurements pretty
well if I may say so."

I thanked her and closed the diary.

In a panic-stricken voice Julie pleaded, "Hey, no fair!" She placed her
hand on mine. "Please read on. Just a little more, please?"

"Alright," I said placating her. "By the way, I think you're better
looking now then you were at Columbia. How is that possible?

Julie stretched like a cat. Very feline I noted.

"I work hard at keeping my shape Rach. Very hard. Now let's get back to
the diary."

I really wanted to read more myself, in private,but there was no way I
could manage that without Julie being presentat least for the next few
days.

Turning a few pages I settled on one and resumed reading.

                                ***
"If I'm gonna keep a diary maybe I should put in a few details that
happened to me before. This way I can have an accurate documentation
later on. For example, I started my sexuality at 16, the end of my
junior year in high school . . . I raised the activity level a lot more
in senior year. I did it because I wanted to, not because my 'peers'
were doing it."  Mostly handjobs, although there were a couple blowjobs
during my senior year. I liked the pleasure it gave the guys, and I
enjoyed knowing that I was the one delivering 'that look' on the guy's
face. I was in control. That seemed to be important to me. I mean, I'm
not a control freak,shit, I'm not even sure what that expression means,
but every few dates I would stonewall the guy, sending him home with
what they called 'blue balls'."

"I always put up a bitchy tough front, so I made sure that I got the
rep of being cold. No one thought about calling me a slut. When I did
something for the guy, it was because I needed it. I guess I raped
them, "Ha, Ha, Ha, although they weren't exactly complaining."


"Met my roommate this morning. Her name is Julie and she's awesome! I
can't believe how lucky I am. She's drop dead gorgeous and super
intelligent!"

"She's gonna take pre-law! Hot damn! I wanted a serious student to bunk
with. This is better than expected. And the guys will positively drool
over her! I'm sure I'd be happy with her rejects. Ahhh, the stud
looking rejects that is. Whew! I can't believe my luck."

"Julie and I have been together for a month now. I'm still in awe of
her. Guys seem to topple down in front of her like bowling pins as we
head for class, and she just walks over their bodies."

"Lately, I have been a masturbating fool. I mean, I did it watching the
soaps this morning, then went to the mall, saw this hunk and ran for
the ladies room and a vacant stall, not caring (or noticing) the one
next to me was occupied. Later I called Brad (old high school beau) and
ended up doing it with him on the phone. (No! he didn't know what I was
doing!) And last I used two fingers to get off just thinking about
Julie! Yeah Julie. I saw her prancing into her room almost nude on her
way from the shower. I recalled the way she's been dressing for class
lately. Short skirts and tight sweaters, almost see-through blouses and
the like. She told me she likes to get the guys hot and bothered in
class, she concentrates on the lecture while they think about her. She
thinks it provides an edge for her grade-wise and she enjoys flaunting
herself to them too. She's goading me to try it. I just might."

                              ***
Julie squealed as I read this last part.

"You slut!" she wailed. "I never . . ."

"Bullshit," I cried out. "You did! And you got me to follow suit."

A sly smile crossed her face.

"Well you were acting like a virgin back then."

I fumed. "God damnit! I was a virgin then!" I wasn't mad I was just
exasperated with her.

 "Hey Rach, you told me you'd lost your cherry in high school."

"Well . . . I lied to you then," I said belligerently.

"About what?"

In a more subdued tone, I said, "About how much I'd done with a guy."

"Come on . . . admit it. You gave out blowjobs and screwed like a
rabbit in the back seat of what's his name's car."

"No, I really was a virgin," I said, blushing, even after all those
years.

"I mean," I blurted out trying to assert myself, "I gave a couple
blowjobs, sure, but no guy ever got further than groping my pussy.
Damnit! We just read about it in this diary. Why would I lie about it
to myself back then?"

"You're telling me I got your cherry?"

"Don't you remember me telling you you were the first?"

"Yeah . . . but I always thought I was the first girl." She kissed me
and said, "That's so sweet."


Please let me hear your comments.

the_panda@hotmail.com





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