Dear Diary Ch. 11


– interlude 1 –

Kelli sits at her desk, writing in her always-present journal. The campus is deserted; it’s Saturday after finals week, and everyone else moved out Friday. Only a few stragglers remain, those whose parents could not or would not pick them up the day before.

The early morning light filters in the open shades, displaying the minimalist room, as clean as it has been at any time during the semester. Dust motes twinkle as the sunshine catches them, diffusing to cast a bronze highlight on various items in the room. Sarah left on Wednesday, and Kelli is feeling lonely as she toys with her pen on the textured paper of her journal, drawing various symbols devoid of any meaning whatsoever, even to their author.

She stands, sighing, and performs a stretch that starts with her hands in the air, reaching for the ceiling, supported on the tips of her toes. Her long red hair tumbles in curls to the middle of her back, held loosely by a ribbon at her neck and another near the tip of the medusa like bundle. It accepts the kiss of the sunlight, and is suffused with a glow that turns it almost to copper, rather than its traditional hue, a dusky auburn. The shirt she is wearing rides up during the stretch, revealing light skin devoid of imperfections, and the line of her vertebrae climbing up her arched back. The blue boxer shorts hug her hips and her tight legs as she strains to reach the top. Then she collapses, bending at the waist, her hands falling to press flat against the floor, her hair flipping over to brush against the rug beneath her.

Her socked feet slide sideways, and she winds up in a sideways split on the floor, her legs wide apart, her hands reaching forward, her head lying on the rug in front of her. Another sigh escapes her body as she finishes her stretch and rolls onto her back, the sunlight playing over the straight line of her body as she lays flat on her back. The shirt has ridden up, displaying the flat stomach, stretched taut, revealing the defined muscles beneath the ivory skin.

She lies there, and time passes while she contemplates. There are no limits to the things she could be thinking about, and her outward display shows nothing of the inward happenings. One hand falls to her stomach, gently rubbing in large slow circles. The other hand trails languidly down her leg, the scarlet nails beginning at her knee and slowly moving towards her waist.

Her excitement is betrayed ulus escort by the hardened bumps rising from the t-shirt which is pulled tight across her breasts. The hand on her stomach trails up, under the shirt, and suddenly it is off, tossed softly across the room. Kelli’s nipples are large, and erect with need. Her hand returns to her torso, a finger tracing the outside of her breast, circling in, ever so slowly, towards the waiting prize in the middle. The other hand continues its progression, now caressing the inside of her right thigh, the long nails raising small bumps on her flesh.

The blue boxer shorts have ridden up, the wide leg holes puddled where gravity has pulled them. Kelli’s hand disappears into one of those leg holes. Several things happen at once: her back arches slightly, her rear end and shoulder blades pushing into the floor. Her eyes, slightly opened against the morning light, roll backwards. Her breath shudders from her chest in a low gasping moan. And the finger that has been circling finally reaches the center, caressing the nipple it has been slowly stalking.

Kelli’s eyes flutter open, and she rolls gracefully to her feet. The blue boxers fall to the floor, slithering down her legs, and she steps out of them. Her hair is freed next, spreading out across her back like a fan, blowing gently in the chilly breeze coming in through the slightly opened windows. She moves slowly to Sarah’s bed and lies down on her back. Both hands found their way to her breasts, massaging, kneading, gently pulling on the nipples. As she manipulated her chest, her hips started to move, almost imperceptibly circling on the bed.

Her hands leave her chest after several minutes, tracing the lines of her torso from her shoulders, down her stomach, to her hips. They meet again over her belly button. One hand stays there. The other slips downward, the long red fingernail sliding over her pleasure spot, continuing down, spreading the folds that cover her gate, then sliding deep inside. She takes a deep breath, sliding the finger slowly back out, then drops her hands to either side on the bed, taking several moments just to breathe. Leaning over, she opens a drawer on the nightstand nearest the bed, Sarah’s nightstand, and pulls out several objects, setting them beside her on the bed.

She upends the first bottle over her chest, pouring a golden liquid from it in a line from her throat yenimahalle escort to the downy patch of dark hair, neatly trimmed, that leads down the areas that only her girlfriends have experienced. Both hands dive in then, rubbing the baby oil over the front of her body, leaving her skin slick and glistening. Both hands slide down past her navel and onward, coating her lips and the area in between, providing lubrication for the pleasure to come.

For several minutes, Kelli simply revels in the slippery coating atop her, rubbing her hands quickly over all the covered areas, making herself breathe heavily, gasping at certain touches. The look on her face betrays a mind that is far away, seeing or remembering visions of pleasure, of ecstasy, of, perhaps, love, or at least lust. Reaching down, she finds another of the items she retrieved from the drawer.

It is called a butterfly, and this one is particularly beautiful. Sarah has a thing for pretty toys. Rolling her legs upward, Kelli slips her feet through the straps, wriggling around and pulling the unit into place so that the main part of it sits directly on top of her clitoris. For a couple of seconds, she rolls around, finding a comfortable position. Then, with a satisfied sigh, she flicks the hand control that lay next to her.

A low buzzing emanates from the device as it stimulates her, and Kelli’s eyes take on a half lidded look of lust. For several minutes she lays there and lets it do its work, occasionally moaning in response to the sensation. Her lust increases, and the hand on the control moves the dial to the next setting. The buzzing becomes louder, and Kelli speaks softly “Oh… yeah… mmmmm… ah…. oh…” Her hips move more obviously, rubbing sensually against the partner that isn’t there. Her hand reaches down and finds the last of the objects she retrieved from the drawer.

It is about 7 inches long, black, and high tech looking. The top is rounded; the bottom is not. Kelli looks it up and down, then sticks out her long tongue, bringing the black rod to her mouth and licking it, taking it into her mouth and sucking it as she flicks the dial in her left hand to the next setting. The ebony toy is out of her mouth as she moans in pleasure at the additional vibration, her voice rising to a low yell as she repeats her litany “oh, yeah…. ummm. yeah, oh, yeah…. ahhh” over and over, her eyes closed now as she focuses totally inward, lost in the feelings she is experiencing. Her right hand slides down, under her now-raised right leg, which is bent at the knee. A slow twist of the wrist and the toy is sliding inside her, inch by inch. Her mouth is open in a wordless yell as she pants, close to being overwhelmed by all this sensation.

As she slides the toy deep inside her for the first time, her left hand flicks the control to its maximum setting. Her back arches and she yells out as the adjustment occurs, the control falling to the floor as her limbs go weak. The only appendage with any remaining power is her right hand, which plunges the toy in and out of her welcoming void in a frenzy. Kelli’s lips are stretched in an effort to restrain herself, but the dam quickly breaks, and she cries out at the top of her lungs “yes, oh, yes, oh, god, Marie, you’re so good, oh, yes.. oh.. OH… oh, i’m cumming…..” and then she loses the ability to speak, wordless as she convulses in orgasm after orgasm. Finally, after minutes of nonstop uncontrolled shaking, she is able to roll over and reach the control for the butterfly, switching it off and collapsing from the effort, panting, the sweat from her brow dripping onto the dorm room floor.

She rolls over on her back and falls asleep, surrounded by the debris of the last hour. Her arms are flung out over her head, her legs flopped wide. The oil glistens on her skin, a counterpoint to the sweat drying on it, texturing her skin with its saltiness. Her hair is flung out in a fan above her head. She is pure as snow, as gorgeous as a summer afternoon, and dreams of Marie, her first lover. Occasionally she moans happily in her slumber. Several hours later, she is awakened by the sound of the car door slamming; by the time her parents arrive at her door, she has cleaned up and dressed, no hint of the earlier pleasure except for a dusky auburn glow on her skin.

Her parents remark on how healthy she looks; Kelli smiles sweetly and closes the door behind her, leaving college behind for the winter break. The sunlight still sparkles in the room, but the warmth has left it; the room feels as if it is waiting, waiting for the return of its occupants, the return of the life it vicariously enjoys.

The return of Kelli, and of Sarah, of Marie, and of Tina. For it knows, without a doubt, that it will bear witness to more adventures as that particular foursome moves through the years they will spend together.

As Kelli closes the car door, she sighs, looking forward to the next semester… and all of the stories she will have to share.

– The end, interlude one –

To Be Continued…

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