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, travesti istanbul 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 istanbul travestileri 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 istanbul travesti 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.