Dear Dirty Diary – part 3

Dear Dirty Diary,

Three weeks passed and it was Sunday morning. The sun peeked softly through the slats of the blinds in our bedroom, showing promise for an inspiring new day. Doug was sl**ping soundly, so I carefully slipped out of bed and headed for the shower. Soon the hot water tingled against my back and trickled down my bum, warming me completely. I shampooed my hair then began to lather the rest of me. The slippery bar of Dove slid soothingly across my wet skin, caressing my body with its softly rounded contours. Sure I had lathered my body completely, I took down the hand-held shower nozzle and began to rinse. I first rinsed my hair, face and neck, then swept down my shoulders. I sprayed down my underarms, then swung the nozzle around me and completed my back, bum and the backs of my legs. Concentrating then on the front of my body, I rinsed down my outer thighs, shins and feet.

Leaving the best until last as always, I lightly sprayed my back to keep me toasty warm, then immediately sprayed down my soapy breasts. My nipples poked out, deep rosy pink as I ran the spray quickly down my abdomen. Then quick as a wink, I flipped over the nozzle and sprayed up my crotch! An erotic shiver raced through my lower body as hot water tingled my labia. After thirty seconds of this bliss, I reached down and split my lips widely apart with my other hand. I spread my legs apart, then sprayed up into my vulva. My knees began to tremble when the tiny jets tingled against my growing clitoris. I stopped after only a few seconds, for any more of that and I surely would have cum right there in the shower and that would have been a terrible waste of my building erotic notions.

I toweled roughly to set my skin aglow, then blew dry my hair and pubes. I dabbed a little perfume on my chest, behind my ears and on each side of my pussy, put on my robe and quietly left the bathroom. Doug, to my surprise was still sl**ping. He looked so sweet and innocent sl**ping peacefully on his back. As I crept closer, I noticed that he had kicked off some of his covers and saw his penis was peeking out of the fly of his pajamas. It looked so vulnerable lying there, sort of like a little bird that had ventured out of its nest. It certainly didn't look at all prepared for the dangers that say, a foraging cat could bring upon it.

“Laura, the Lion,” stealthily crept across the bedroom floor. Stopping at the edge of the bed, she slowly and cautiously leaned over and bent her head down over her prey. Mere inches away from her quarry, she opened her mouth, bared her fangs then, in a flash, leapt and devoured it whole! So skillful was her attack, the little bird never had a chance. It pulled back and tried to escape, but her powerful jaws and constricting tongue held it firm.

Realizing its predicament, it tried to escape by bloating up hugely, but it was no match for the drawing suction of its captor's mouth. It pulsed and throbbed steadily, but Laura, the Lion, continued her attack on the struggling bird. She relentlessly slid her wet lips up and down its neck, just under its purple head. This must have had a strangling effect on the bird, for it tried yet another avenue of escape, by stabbing its talons into Laura, the Lion's, vulva. The bird's feeble thrusts however, only spurred on Laura, the Lion, who not only continued her bobbing attack on the bird's neck, but also began to suck the life out of its head.

The bird tried once again to escape by crying out, “If you don't stop right now, you'll get a mouthful of cum!”

I quickly spat out his penis and headed for the Kleenex box, only to find it was empty. I frantically searched for a towel or something to catch his semen, but had to settle for my yesterday's panties. I swooped up my rumpled underpants and hurriedly wrapped them around his penis.

Then Doug announced, “I guess I've cooled down a bit now.”

Perturbed by his escape, I tightly squeezed his penis and said, “The hell you have!” Loosely gripping his penis now, I pumped my hand up and down its shaft so that my silky panties would chafe against his tender skin. When he pushed more fingers into my pussy, I worked my hand back and forth with frenzied motion. After just a moment or two of this torture, I heard him grunt, felt his penis surge again and again, then watched his glistening semen seep through the soft nylon bunched around the tip of his penis. Squeezing tightly, I worked the last of his sperm up out of his urethra into the folds of my wet gooey panties.

Doug, as usual, gave my pussy a few more wimpy thrusts then dozed off into blissful sl**p. I, as usual, was all primed up for more sexual delights, but realized he wouldn't be good for anything for hours. My Laura, the Lion, caper had been fun and of course I began to daydream of how I could pounce on Louise next. I though that Laura, the Lion, should be sleekly cloaked to be most effective, so I carefully rolled out of bed, opened my lingerie drawer and retrieved a lacy beige push-up bra, slip, panties and nylons. I tiptoed out of our bedroom with my costume into the f****y room.

Too anxious to wait a second longer, I called Louise to set my trap. The lazy thing was still in bed, complaining of a stiff neck from sl**ping with the window open too far. I told her I'd bring over my electronic muscle stimulator, like chiropractors use for therapy. I told her it might take a while to get everything ready. Planning ahead for my sneak attack, I suggested she unlock her door now, so she wouldn't get tensed up any worse when I got there. sl**pily she agreed and I put my plan into motion.

I took my time putting on all my slinky skin tone lingerie, got the EMS out of the bathroom cupboard, then slipped on an overcoat and slippers to go next door. It had been about twenty minutes since I phoned and I was hoping she had gone back to sl**p. Quietly locking her door behind me, I crept silently through Louise's apartment. I peeked into her room and was delighted to find she was fast asl**p on her bed. Sunbeams bathed her in a soft glow as I watched her gentle breathing. Like Doug, she looked so sweet and vulnerable in sl**p. She had kicked the covers off her legs and I caught a glimpse of her little brown bush peeking out of the folds of her judo robe.

Laura, the Lion, edged closer to her unsuspecting quarry. A pink pussy-mouse lay dozing in a dark bushy thicket. Laura, the Lion, hovered overhead, then pounced on her prize in a flash. Unlike my previous conquest, this victim didn't even show a startle reflex. She just moaned softly and laid there in complete submission, leading Laura, the Lion, to surmise that she wasn't sl**ping at all, and this may indeed, be a trap! Cautiously, Laura, the Lion, began to play with her captive, lapping softly at her labia. The mouse relaxed herself, allowing the thrusts of my tongue to gain entry through the thicket, into the hot wet interior of her pussy.

“This certainly beats an alarm clock,” Louise said breathlessly. “I've fantasized forever of having my lover wake me with her tongue, so don't hold back,” she continued, giving me a most wanton smile.

Laura, the Lion, hunched back down then began to devour her helpless prey. Louise, the Mouse, arched her back and trust up her hips as I gorged myself in her quivering vulva. When I licked her slit from her vagina, right up to her clit, then flailed it erect with my darting tongue, she dug her heels and elbows into the mattress in ecstasy. At the height of her surge, she whimpered, obviously in pain.

”It's not you, it’s my stupid stiff neck,” she explained.

I then remembered that I was on a mission of mercy, not just one of lust fulfillment.

I got my EMS out of its box and proceeded to hook her up. She said her chiropractor gave her therapy with a larger console-type unit sometimes. I wet the square 1 ½ inch sticky pad then placed it on her shoulder by her neck. When I asked her where she'd like the other pad, she said she ached in the one spot only. When I explained to her that the EMS needed two pads hooked up to work, she said to put it somewhere I thought it might feel good. Trembling with devious excitement, I plugged in the other pad and asked her if she was ready for the biggest thrill she'd ever feel. I smoothed out a few of her pubic hairs, wet the pad's face then carefully wrapped it over the hood of her clitoris. She showed an apprehensive expression when she heard me click the EMS on, so I reassured her by telling her I'd tried this before and it felt incredible.

I turned the intensity up one increment at a time, pausing at least two pulses between increases to catch her reaction. It wasn't until the fourth increase that Louise began to feel the tingle in her neck and pussy. Not overly impressed at first, she had me continue increasing the voltage gradually. After three additional increases, I saw that with each pulse, her shoulder would lurch ahead slightly and her pussy would quiver ever so slightly. Her eyes were closed, her lips were provocatively open and she would emit a low moan with each pulse.

After about five minutes of blissful therapy, Louise opened her eyes and asked if there was a way for me to join in. I admitted it was a little boring, just watching over her so I hiked up my slip. Without hesitation, she thrust her hand down inside my panties and poked me with her finger. When she found it slipped easily into the moistness of my pussy, she flailed that finger about, making loud, rude, squishy noises. Louise pulled down the front of my sleek shiny beige panties, while I smeared KY jelly on a larger rubber pad then rolled it up into a cylinder. I inserted it into my pussy like a tampon, wetted another small sticky pad then smoothed it directly over my clitoris. As soon as I was sure it was centered perfectly, I pulled my panties back up snugly to keep the EMS pads in place.

I clicked on my control and turned up the intensity switch slowly. I felt a faint, pleasing tingle in my clit and at the top of my vulva. I turned it up slowly and found that the surge went right through the tip of my clit, driving my crazy. I adjusted the pad a higher until the tingle was just perfect then cranked it up to my usual level. Louise, the Mouse, suddenly did something that I was not prepared for. She rolled over toward me, wrapped her arms around me and kissed me ever so passionately. She slid her wet little tongue into my mouth and wriggled it all about.

A faint tingle pulsed through our wet tongues with each pulse and Louise said, “Wow, that must be what's meant by sparks flying between two lovers!” She took on a very serious expression and continued, “We are in love, aren't we?”

When I told her I didn't love her in the same way as my husband, Louise's expression changed to sadness, then on to radiance when I told her our love was wonderfully full of spontaneity and romance, to say nothing of the most incredible sex I'd ever experienced with anyone. I heard myself admit we were indeed, in love.

We hugged and kissed so passionately I could hardly catch my breath. Louise nuzzled my neck, sucked on my earlobes, and then sucked my nipples up hard through my bra's sheer nylon cups. She unfastened the front clasp of my little push-up bra, spilled out my hot breasts and took turns sucking one teat, while squeezing the other. She slid her hand down, rubbed all over my belly, then pressed on down between my legs. Annoyed by the EMS pads in her way, she pulled away my panties and quickly removed the tangle of pads and wires from herself and me. That done, Louise returned to caressing my pubes through my panties just the way I liked, saturating their crotch gloriously with my sap. To return the favor, I spread the lips of her labia and deftly massaged her clit, while probing her vulva with my other fingers.

All of a sudden, Louise said, “I don't know about you, but right now my pussy feels like it could take on a horse.” She shoved two fingers from each hand into her vulva and spread herself widely so I could see right up inside her, saying, “Just look what your machine has done to me!” “Who'll want a sloppy old pussy like this?” she lamented.

I pushed down my panties to find that my pussy was equally relaxed. My vulva just hung open, ready for business. When I told her we both seemed to be in the same predicament, Louise suggested we might as well take advantage of our conditions. She disappeared into the kitchen, so I whiled away my time by hooking myself back up to my EMS pads. By the time she returned, I was just about delirious with lust.

“Look at this, you shameless slut,” she joked when she finally returned with her goody bowl.

Beaming from ear to ear, she showed me what appeared to be a large, peeled English cucumber in a bowl of what smelled like cucumber salad dressing. The twinkle in her eyes immediately hinted at where this idea of hers was headed. She hopped back into bed and jammed the cucumber right into my vulva. When she pushed it harder, the slippery, marinated cucumber slid easily into me, but that pushed the EMS pad in deeply and pulled its wire off. Louise pulled out the cucumber and tried to fish out the pad with her fingers, but it had been pushed out of reach up into me.

A serious frown came to her face and she said, “This looks like a job for Gynecologist Louise.”

As quick as a wink, she dipped her hand into the salad dressing then shoved it into me, right up to her wrist! I was nearly climbing the walls as I felt that little hand twist and those slim fingers search every nook and cranny of my vagina. Like a c***d finding a prize in a box of cereal, she pulled out the pad and said, “Oh, here it is.”

Laura, the Lion, attempted to gain back her composure now that Louise, the tiny-fisted Mouse, had withdrawn her hand. Before I even caught my breath, she grabbed the cucumber, swished it around in the salad dressing and plunged it into my still-dilated pussy. It seemed Louise, the Mouse, had reverted back to Louise Lafitte and was about to run me through once more. Instead, she had me lie on my side with legs spread wide apart. She turned around and positioned herself at the bottom of the bed, lying flat on her back, then squirmed up. She entwined our legs while lining up her pussy with the long cucumber stub sticking out of me. Louise smeared salad dressing all over that end of the cucumber then pushed herself against its tip. Her vulva must have been tighter than mine, for her thrust just pushed it all the way into me. She pushed once more and since it couldn't go any further into me, the cucumber split her little pussy wide open, then disappeared almost completely into her vagina too!

Still determined to experience more of the EMS machine's addicting therapy, Louise pointed out that since we were now truly joined by the wet, conductive cucumber, the current should pass through one into the other. I licked both small pads with my tongue to wet them then carefully pressed each atop our clits. Louise clicked on the switch and oh my, it was heavenly! The pulses indeed, traveled right through the cucumber, in one of our clits and out the other's. After a few pulses, I reached down and turned it up an increment at a time. By the fourth increase, both of us were delirious with sexual bliss. I looked down at the beautiful little woman sharing this incredible thrill with me, saw her whole body racked with passion and my fireworks exploded violently after only a few more pulses!!!

Immediately after my orgasm, I switched off the machine for the pulses were way too much for my hypersensitive little clitoris to bear. Louise looked frantic, so I pulled off of the cucumber, moved down and began to lick her clit. I sucked it erect then twisted the cucumber back and forth as I flailed her little bump with my tongue. She was stubborn and made me lick until the muscles of my tongue were sore, but finally she started to breath heavily. I intensified my assault on her clitoris with one last licking frenzy and my beautiful little lover shook and writhed through a spectacular orgasm! Her knees and thighs shook uncontrollably and her gorgeous nipples stood out huge and erect. She quivered with tremors five or six times, ceasing finally when I pulled out the cucumber.

Her eyes shone clear and dark as opals as she said, “A person could get really addicted to that if they weren't careful.” She pulled the soggy cucumber out of her pussy and handed it to me saying, “Cucumber salad for your husband tonight?”

As I put the gooey cucumber back on the tray, I sniffed it and realized it really reeked of pussy in spite of the cucumber dressing. I told her that Doug, for sure, would catch on this time, to which Louise pointed out that theoretically our little affair couldn't really be deemed as cheating as long as my husband enjoyed the somewhat abused fruit of our labors. She cut the cucumber into slices, arranged them nicely on a plate, added just a sprinkle of fresh salad dressing and assured me that Doug would love it even more if he knew where it had been.

“Before you go, would you answer me a very personal question, Laura?” she asked as we were getting dressed. “How did your sexual obsession with lingerie come about?”

I pondered that for a while then told her it must have evolved during a visit to my aunt and uncle's one time when I was fifteen or so. I told her that my cousins and I would hang out in their attic bedroom. It was full of sexy old pinup calendars showing women, dressed in frilly revealing 1950's underwear in humorous predicaments. One evening, as our parents were drinking and playing poker, we got really rowdy, so they separated us, banishing me to my aunt and uncle's bedroom to cool off. To lessen my boredom, I peeked through their night table drawers and was amazed to find lots of lingerie, similar to that depicted on the sexy calendars.

In my uncle's drawers, I found a nudist magazine, some risqué novels, a hand-held vibrator and a View Master with a reel inside entitled, “So you think you've got problems!” What I saw in full color 3D will be forever etched in my brain to the smallest detail. The first scene, called “Fallen Angel,” showed a very shapely woman grasping for her big floppy hat, blown off by a gust of wind. Her other hand, clutching a dog's leash, was wrenched back behind her and she was trapped by her little Scotch terrier dog. He had dragged his leash tightly out between her legs, popping several buttons up the bottom of her white and black polka dot shirtdress, then circled around, trussing her nylon-stocking covered thigh tightly to a fence post!

In the second scene, entitled, “Bird on a wire!” the wind had blown the loose hem of her dress way up, snagging it on a barb on an upper wire of the fence. As she attempted to retrieve her hat, by climbing between the barbed wire strands, she had squatted too low and also snagged the crotch of her billowy white panties on a lower fence barb. To complicate matters, yet another barb had caught the bodice of her dress, ripped one side wide open, allowing one huge floppy breast to spill out onto the fence wire. At that exact moment, the dog leapt through the fence and tightly pulled his leash up over her dangling, pendulous breast, lashing it dangerously close to the barbs on that strand of the fence wire!

The third scene, entitled, “Up the stump!” posed her with her retrieved hat in one hand and her other yanked up over her head by the dog, straining against his leash. He was ferociously chewing away at the fence-snagged hem of her dress, now hiked up around her waist and temporarily holding her suspended, half way down a grassy stream embankment. Her big frilly panties had ridden up as she slid down on her bum and were tightly stretched across her pubes. Jutting up between her thighs was a twisted, knobby, water-logged old stump root, sure to puncture right through her flimsy, straining panties and bury itself in her poor pussy, the second the dog chewed her free to slide down on it!

The fourth scenario, titled “Don't get your tit in a wringer!” pictured the frazzled woman, pulled off balance by the dog tugging on her tattered dress. After stumbling forward toward her old-fashioned washing machine, her hand accidentally hit the wringer switch. Her big pointy breast had been drawn into the rollers and her huge brilliant pink nipple was emerging out the other side!

The following pose called “Damaged goods!” depicted the poor dear hanging up the ragged clothes she attempted to wash on a bathroom clothesline. Both her wringer-pinched nipple and her poor pussy were crisscrossed with band-aids. Her ripped and mud-stained polka dot dress hung beside her panties, still bearing faint grass stains on their seat and a blackish round stain ringing a puncture hole through their tattered crotch. Just as she attempted to hang up her holed nylon stockings, the dog trotted by, chewing away at the broken-off root stub and jerked her hand with his leash, causing her to clip a clothes pin onto her uns**thed nipple!

The last scene, called “Just desserts!” posed the heroine, soaking in her bathtub. Her hugely erect, beet red teats jutted out as her remarkable breasts floated, wet and shiny and her widely spread knees poked up out of the sudsy bath water. She smiled lustfully as she lathered up the gnarled old root stub, obviously intent upon a return engagement with her new found friend under more relaxing conditions. The dog sat forlornly, chained under the sink, looking quite upset about the clothespin clipped on his little penis!

I told Louise that after flipping through the reel, I felt all woozy in my head and warm in my pussy. For reasons I couldn't explain, I locked the door, stripped naked, then tried on my aunt's nylons and the silkiest, frilliest panties in her drawer. Lying on their bed, I slowly scanned through the reel over and over again, squeezing my little nipples and running my hand up and down my thighs, abdomen and crotch. At that moment, for the first time, I found that exquisite little bump just above my vulva that felt ever so good whenever I rubbed over it. I slid my hand down inside those billowy sheer panties and tickled that growing little bump until suddenly my whole lower body began to shake and convulse. I thought for sure I was having a seizure or something, especially after I found my vulva all wet and gooey. For months after, I fretted over what I'd done and have never told a soul until that day with Louise.

To my dismay, my daydreams began to center around those photographic adventures of that woman and on impulse I found myself shopping for my own filmy underwear and performing private little torture experiments on myself, getting to know all the most erotic secrets of my body. I lost my virginity to my hairbrush handle one sl**pless night, shortly after and up until I married Doug, I couldn't survive even a day without poking anything that would fit into myself. Looking straight into Louise's eyes, I told her, “I guess I'm still searching for that old stump root in my mind!” I had a good understanding of sex well before I viewed that photo reel, but had never been told that penis-shaped objects might be just as good as the real thing, especially when combined with some silky lingerie. “Penises might be natural, but dildos are longer lasting and a lot less hassle!” I philosophized as I ended my story.

Louise immediately asked, “Weren't you concerned about the sadistic overtones of the photos?”

I told her that never entered my mind because they were merely a 1950's form of slapstick humor, sort of kike a sexy cartoon that obviously was grossly exaggerated. The woman never showed any expression of pain, only surprise with each new predicament, so I suppose my peculiar little passions originated from that realization. I asked Louise, while we were on this subject, where her passion for tying up her lovers originated.

She blushed vividly, then began, “When I was little and we lived in the Gaspe, near the New Brunswick border, we used to play Acadians and Scots. It was kind of a French Canadian version of Cowboys and Indians. I particularly enjoyed being an Acadian outcast taking revenge upon the Scottish immigrant settlers, who were pushing us off our land. The little Scottish girl a few doors away was my favorite target and I just loved capturing her, tying her up to a tree and poking her all over with my stiff little finger. I would then leave her crying and securely tied up after filling her underpants with lumps of dirt.”

Louise continued after a pause, “A few years later, after we moved down to Phillipsburg Quebec, both of my parents had to work to keep our f****y fed. They couldn't afford a sitter for us after school so we were left alone to fend for ourselves. We could, however get U.S. programs on our little TV, but they were mostly cartoon or westerns in those days. My favorite show, “Annie Oakley” revolved around a tough young pioneer woman who could ride horse, shoot and lasso as well as any man. In the most memorable episode, Annie was chasing a thieving barroom-dancing girl, making her getaway on a stolen horse. Using her roping skills while galloping behind in hot pursuit, Annie threw her lasso over the femme fatale's upper body, cinched it tight, right across the girl's breasts, and then stopped abruptly. This yanked the stuntwoman off her horse so suddenly it caused her legs to shoot straight out and widely spread, wherein her skirt and crinolines blew up around her waist. She landed with a bone-jarring thud on her poor little bum, cushioned only by her frilly French underpants. Annie leapt off her horse with her rope in hand and hog-tied the dancehall girl just as slickly as a rodeo rider could.”

“Like you, Laura, I remember the sequence almost in slow-motion and played it back through my mind many times since. To my adolescent mind, her breasts looked round and supple, squashed by the tight lasso. Her stocking covered legs, frilly panties and billowing petticoats seemed so flirty and exciting, but with those coarse ropes all wound around her upper body, hands and ankles, she looked just like a birthday present all tied up in ribbons and bows.” she recollected. She told me her fascination grew stronger after peeking in her father's detective magazines. Apparently they often showed illustrations of women in torn clothing helplessly tied up by their captors, awaiting untold sexual tortures.

A wistful expression came to Louise as she continued, “My fascination finally became an obsession after finding a girly magazine of my older b*****r's when I was about fifteen. In it there were many glossy photos of models dressed in revealing lingerie, trussed and bound in erotic poses. Recently, a re-release of all those old Betty Page photos just whet my appetite even more.”

As Louise walked me to the door, she handed me the sliced cucumber dish and suddenly blurted out, “So, do you think you'd like me to tie you up some time?”

I answered with, “Ah, but of course Madame, as long as you're willing to indulge me in my little lingerie perversion while you're doing it.”