June 2, 1995

Dear Diary.....

Today he came over, and for the first time in a long time, we had a simple, platonic little get-together. He came in just before Jay Leno came on tv and I turned it off. He walked into the room, a perfect example of the adage about not judging a book by its cover. He looked at me, and smiled, his rich, full dark lips curling up in a way that made the blood rush through my body. I could already feel the first tingles of arousal, excitement, and sexual anticipation coursing into my loins.

Trina and some of my other friends, they think he's cute-- in a little brother sorta way-- but God! If they only knew what I know about him! They'd never let him out of the bed, let alone out of their sight!

He sat on one end of the bed, and I on the other, as we played cards and talked about nothing in particular; he in his boxer shorts-- after he had gotten undressed, of course-- and I in my long t-shirt and nothing else. He knew that I wasn't wearing anything underneath the shirt-- hell, he could damn near see through the shirt-- and as if that weren't enough, I know that he could see my nipples poking out against the fabric, 'cause I could see him glancing at my breasts from time to time. I know that he didn't think that it was because I was cold; the room was plenty warm enough, and I was just about ready to take off my t-shirt because of the heat. Every time I caught his eyes on me, I would look at him, and he would smile, the look in his eyes matching the thoughts deliciously running through my mind.

From time to time, I would shift my position on the bed, opening and folding my legs beneath me as I tried to find a way to be comfortable and let him see what my little looks to him were about. I know I got to him; and he wasn't the least bit coy about it, either, as he gazed right up in between my legs, looking, remembering, touching and caressing with his eyes. He got up to go to the bathroom, and I could see that he was as anxious as I was, his boxers leading him out of the door as he went to relieve his bladder. I wanted so badly to strip off my shirt and cry out to him, "Please, for God's sakes, fuck me! Now!"

And wouldn't you know it? He comes back from the bathroom, with a woodie that could've broken down doors, flashes me a sexy, knowing smile, climbs into the bed with me, turns off the light, and rolls over and goes to sleep!