Date: Mon, 26 Jan 2015 14:54:15 +0000 (UTC)
From: Julie Monroe <tsjuliemonroe@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Diary

The Diary

Maria opened the shop, coffee in hand, minutes before 10am. The diary was
sitting on the checkout with the mask and pen sitting next to it. It so
startled her that she spilled her coffee on the door step, and it splashed up
on her jeans. "Damn!" she said, entering the shop.

Maria switched on the lights and turned on the open sign. She set her coffee
down, and looked sadly at the diary. With a long sigh, she opened it to see
the entry.

She nearly dropped it. She knocked the rest of her coffee to the ground, but she
didn't care. The diary was full. It wasn't like the other times. It wasn't
a single sentence. It was an honest to goodness story.

She threw 3 towels onto the spill, wiped it up, and grabbed the diary. She went
into the main reading room, sat down, and started to read. It had been over ayear since the diary left the store, and Maria was not sure it was coming back.So, it was going to be nice to learn what was up over the last year.

Sunday -- December 1st

Dear Diary,
Can someone please tell me what the fuck I am doing writing a diary? Seriously!
WTF? Not only am I writing a diary, but I feel absolutely compelled to do so. But
why would a 50-year-old, 6'3", 270lb man feel the need to write a diary like a
teenage girl? Well, here I am writing this thing. Let's see where it goes. I am
probably writing it because of the call. I expected to be on the bench for the
month, but now I am heading to DC. I am going to have to take weekly flights to
DC for the duration, and this project is scheduled for 3 years. I am probably
subconsciously concerned, and this is my way of working it out.

Monday -- December 2nd

Flight went fine. Took the Metro into DC from the airport. Hotel is around the
corner from the client, and an easy walk from the Chinatown Metro. Nice to be
in here with good food options. I'm a Legal Seafood fan, and there is one down
the street from the hotel. A little surprised we are using a boutique hotel,
but the client dictated the choice. We all have suites. Another surprising
choice. Turns out the hotel is owned by the client, and they only house company
visitors and executives. Makes a little more sense. Given the luxury of the
room, I am not going to complain. The day was a typical kick-off day on a
project. Everyone is getting set-up. Always takes days, and sometimes weeks,
for laptops, accounts, and even security badges to be assigned. This week will
probably be easy. Going to enjoy it while I can.

Tuesday -- December 3rd

Saw a small bookstore, Chinatown Books and Antiquities, on my way to the client
this morning, and I dropped in to check it out tonight. Something fucking
freaky beyond freaky happened.

I walked into the store, and I saw diary. I forgot about being in the store to
look at books. I bought the diary, and heading back to the hotel. The fucker
came with a pen and a mask. Who the fuck needs a mask for a diary? The pen is
nice though. It has a nice heft to it, and it write smoother than any pen I
have ever used.

I admit it. I have a pen fetish. Shit, I would have bought the pen if I knew
it was this good. I have to go back tomorrow to ask about the pen. I need to
buy a few more. The whole diary, pen, and mask only cost me $50.

But back to the weird shit, when I got back to the hotel, I opened the diary.
My entries from my original diary have been transferred to this one. The
entries are all written in my hand. But how the fuck did that happen?

I don't know, and I am not sure I want to know. It happened. Go with it.
Perhaps this is why I felt compelled to write a diary in the first place.

Wednesday -- December 4th

Fuck me! I had dreams last night. I don't really dream. But, they were all
dreams about cheerleaders. Fuck, I must feel so silly writing a diary that I
dreamed about high school. Not that I ever hung with cheerleaders in high
school, but I do remember them.

Thursday -- December 5th

Weird dream-a-palooza! I saw putting on the mask, and being transported back
to high school. I couldn't see myself. But, I was damn popular, especially
with the cheerleaders.

Honestly, I am looking forward to getting on the plane tomorrow, and heading
back home.

Friday -- December 6th

I just woke up on the airplane. I do not remember getting on the airplane. I
do not remember my day at work. I woke up with the diary open, the pen in my
hand, and the mask on my face. I had never worn the mask. It was not a sleep
mask. Why did I put it on? Why am I having problems remembering the day?

Saturday -- December 7th

I thought the weekend was going to be relaxing. It isn't. My wife is calling
me Jule Ian. I'm serious. My name is Julian. She knows that. Why would she be
mispronouncing my name? She wouldn't! I am fucking losing it. I am cracking
up. The diary and the dreams are just the precursors to my psychotic break.

Sunday -- December 8th

Stayed in bed all day. Listened to music on my iPod. Realized I didn't have
anything that I wanted to hear. Fired up Pandora, and listened to their Top
Hits channels.

It was background noise that just helped me relax. Besides, Katy Perry is
interesting. Here is something cool ... if I wear the mask while listening to
music, it is like wearing a pair of high-end Beats headphones. I'm just going
to leave it on and listen until I go to sleep.

Monday -- December 9th

Holy crap, I am in trouble. Mom just came in and woke me as "Julie Anne." She
never calls me Julie Anne unless I am in trouble. It is spirit day at school,
and my uniform is all cleaned. OH SHIT! I probably don't have a clean bra. I
notice Mom laid the cleaning on my dresser. So that is probably what I missed.

"Mom, love you, Thanks for doing the laundry." I kiss her as I come into the
kitchen. She looks different. I think she is happier. When Dad comes down
wearing just sweat pants, I smile. COOL! Mom got fucked. Those are always good
days for me. I grab my backpack, throw my wallet inside, kiss Mom and Dad,
and bolt for the bus stop. They will appreciate having some more quiet time.

School was normal. One of the freshmen girls in homeroom had her first period.
Kelly and I rushed her to the bathroom, and we got her cleaned up. School
nurse came in, Thanked us for helping, and got her sorted out for the rest of
the day. I made sure to put an extra tampon in my backpack. Never can be too
careful.

Speaking of too careful, Mike was all hands after practice. He tried to reach
under my skirt to get a feel, and he did it in front of his friends. Asshole!
We are done. I posted an Instagram picture of a sign that read, "We're Done!"
He's been trying to text me since, but I am not answering.

Tuesday -- December 10th

Was awake and writing in my diary before Mom even came into my room. This diary
was the best thing I had every decided to do.

The freshman from yesterday, Tamara, gave Kelly and I big hugs, and her Mom
sent us Thank You cards with Victoria Secret gift cards. OH! Love it. Going
shopping after school. Invited Tamara. She seems cool. Just taking a break
during lunch to write this.

Fucking Mike! Fucking choir slut! I think her name is Amber. She was all over
Mike, and he was groping her for all she was worth. Good for them. I don't
need it. Still happy about after-school retail therapy.

Bought some real cute and sexy lingerie. Might have been for Mr. Asshole. But,
not to be. Came home, Mom was sucking Dad's cock in the living room. Her face
was glistening from his pre-cum. Her make-up was a mess. Dad is well hung, and
there is no way she could suck his cock without gagging. I knew it was just a
warm-up, and that she'd get the cock she deserved. I smiled as I waved hello
to Dad.

I am writing this entry on Mom's Sybian. I can hear her moaning from the living
room. She won't need it tonight, and I need to cum. I'm barely able to write
coherently. So, I am going to stop now.

Wednesday -- December 11th

I woke up happy. Nothing like a great Sybian session to start the day out
right. Mom and Dad are still fucking like rabbits. Mom left her car keys and
$100 on the table. I got the message. I go pick up Kelly, and we stop at
Starbucks on the way in to school.

I am going to use the rest to get a manicure and pedicure after school. Kelly
agrees to go with me, and I call to make appointments. Hang is the best, and
I need to let her know we are coming.

Tamara joined us in home room, and we invited her with us. Need to show the new
girl how to do it right. She won't get Hang, but she'll get to hang with us.
Writing this in 2nd period. Ms. Jackson is looking at me with death-ray eyes.

Got a mani/pedi, and hung out with my girls. Tamara's Mom met us. Mrs. Killian
is very cool. She is a fashion designer, and she offered to show us around
the offices on Friday afternoon. They are located right on Market. We can take
Caltrain into town, and use BART, the buses or walk to there.

Thursday -- December 12th

Too tired. Stayed up talking to Tamara and Kelly on KIK. Not feeling like
writing much.

Friday -- December 13th

Wrote a reminder on my iPhone to buy Christmas presents this weekend. I know
better than to wait. Looking forward to meeting Ms. Killian at her offices this
afternoon. Borrowed some of Mom's business attire, and wore a pair of 4" heels
that matched my nails.

Dear Diary, is it OK to tongue kiss a guy you just met? I hope so, because I've
already done it. Tamara would have freaked because it was her brother. Nigel
is a freshman at Berkeley, and he was in the office when we got there. He was
talking to their Mom. I never would have thought to kiss him, but he cornered
me in the office. He pulled me into a supply closet, and kissed me like I have
never been kissed. Damn! He is so strong. He has a great smell. And, I love
how he just pinned me to the wall to kiss me.

Saturday -- December 14th

Dear Diary, Thank You! It must be OK. I woke up to two great messages. One,
Kelly texted me to say she spent the night getting fucked by Mrs. Killian, and
she even texted me pictures. Holy shit! Mrs. Killian is built. Good for Kelly.
She'd been trying to make me a lesbian since 9th grade, but we'd only kissed
once or twice. She's my best friend, and not a bad kisser. But, I like boys
... no, I like men, Berkeley men!

The second message was even better. Here is what it said, "It is OK for you
to fuck my brother. I think you make a cute couple. XOXOXOXO, Tamara." I
nearly fainted. I didn't want to upset her, and she already knew.

OK, I am writing this late in the night. I could be Sunday. I don't know,
and I don't care. But, I want to record what happened.

I came downstairs, and Mom and Dad were in the kitchen talking to somebody.
That somebody was Tamara's brother, Nigel. He had a bouquet of roses for me.
Dad grabbed his car keys, shook Nigel's hand, kissed and hugged me, and
headed out. Mom hugged and kissed me, and whispered that I could use their
bedroom. She winked at me and said, "You have great taste in men, Julie Anne.
Glad to see you pick them like your Mom."

Nigel came over to me after they left. I was holding my breath and biting my
lip. He picked me up, and I wrapped my legs around him. He carried me up to
the Master Bedroom. I excused myself to their bathroom, and told him to get
comfortable. Mom had laid out full lingerie in both White and Black for me.
She knew! Feeling impish, I went for black, which including her riding crop
and thigh-high boots with 6" heels. I might have felt ridiculous, but Nigel
made me feel sexy.

When I came out, his cock went from semi-erect to a full erection when he saw
me. I giggled. I had long, black silk gloves on, and I caressed his body.
Damn! He was built, with six-pack abs, and the most perfect 7" cock I'd ever
seen.

Mom and I had watched porn together. She wanted me to know what to expect. I
knew I didn't want my first cock to be porn-sized. In fact, porn-sized cock
was a turn-off. Nigel was not a turn-off, and I was already wet thinking about
him.

I tried to be smooth and in control. But, he'd have none of that. He grabbed
me, and I was forced to straddle him. I let his hard cock rub against my
panties. I was rubbing myself against that cock. I was losing it, and I didn't
care.

Nigel grabbed my tits. My nipples were hard, and his warm mouth on my nipples
made me scream. Damn! He was good. My back arched. His hands controlled me. I
was trembling.

I couldn't wait. I peeled down my panties, and I slipped his cock inside.
Lights! Rainbows! Fireworks! Tremors! Fucking Earthquakes and Bombs! Time
stopped!

Sybian's are great. But, fuck, they are nothing in comparison to a real cock.
No wonder Mom fucks like a rabbit. Holy shit, I intend to fuck like Mom if
Nigel will have me. And Damn if he doesn't have me repeatedly.

I quivered on his cock at least twice that I remembered. I swallowed at least
one full load of his cum when I gave him a blowjob to get him back after he
came inside of me the first time. And just when I didn't think I had another
orgasm left in me, her fucked me doggie style, and then fucked my ass. Holy
fuck! I am a fuck slut. I orgasmed from my first anal fuck.

Well, to be honest, I had ridden the Sybian in my ass. Perhaps it is why it
felt good not painful. But, I didn't care about any of my past experience, I
was just looking forward to many more experiences to come.

As I write this, Nigel is asleep in the bed with me. I am cum covered. I am
a mess. And you know what, I don't care. I have never felt more complete in
my life.

Sunday -- December 15th

Nigel and I come downstairs to applause. Mrs. Killian and Kelly are naked,
and we making out on the couch. They are clapping. Mom and Dad are fucking
doggie style in front of them. Turns out, they didn't even see us coming.

Dad was demonstrating fucking techniques for Mrs. Killian to use on Kelly.
Kelly was wet, and obviously liked what she saw. Mom was leaking cum, and
Dad was sweaty. Nigel and I stopped long enough for all of them to register
we were present.

The diary was in my hand. I don't remember writing any of this. But, I must
have done it. As I look at the diary, a handsome Nigel, and naked people
all around, words in the diary appear. I am not writing these words.

Dear Julian/Julie Anne,

I did hear you. I knew your secret wish. A good diary does such things. Now,
it is your choice. You can stay Julie Anne. You can go on with your life
from her. Your wife will become your Mom as you see her now, and her college
sweetheart will become your Dad. Your love life will be as it is right now,
and your life will be in front of you.

Or, I could show you a transsexual life. You did originally ask for that,
but it didn't seem to be your real heart's desire. Things will change from
how they are now, but I think you will enjoy it. Since I am your diary, I can
tell you that it will not suit you quite as well.

Or, you can got back to being Julian. I think that is the least attractive
option. But, I do not make your choices for you. You have to make them on your
own.

A Little Over a Year Later -- January

Dear Diary, Thanks! Thank You for being who you are, and for understanding
the real me. More importantly, Thank You for giving me time. It has been
over a year since you asked me what I wanted. I now know exactly what I want.
You know it as well, but it is worth writing it down.

Thanks for the second chance. Stanford really fits me. I never expected to
make the cheerleading team, but what a thrill to be on the field during games.
While I know that guys are watching me, it is very sexy to know that Nigel
is watching me too. I love when he can make the games, and is sitting in
the stands watching me live.

I also want to say Thanks for the great sex. The first time round was OK,
but this time it is fucking awesome. Toys are great. But, Nigel's cock is
perfect. So are his abs, his chest, his arms, his lips ... well, you get
the idea. I love that everything I have is so perfect, and provides me
with such pleasure. For example, I never knew I could orgasm from having my
tits sucked, until Nigel did it. I have yet to find a way that I don't like
sex.

I am also happy to be bi-sexual. You gave me a really high sex drive, and
that is nice. I know women who are cold fish in that area. I need sex daily,
but that brings its own problems. Toys are great, but real humans are better.
I prefer Nigel, and I will be monogamous in dating men. But, it is nice to
know that women are just open to having fun.

Nice to see my ex-wife, and my current Mom, so happy. I never realized how
much she missed sex until I watch her fuck Dad. And Damn! He is fucking hung.
Way too big for my liking. But, Go Mom! I was not as big as Dad, and she is
obviously a size queen.

If you stick around, I'll be glad to continue to post updates. But, I do not
feel the need to write as often. Life is just happening as it should.

Thanks! XOXOXOXOXO, Julie Anne

Maria wiped herself, having cum several times while reading the story. As she
finished, a new volume appeared, The Making of Julie Anne. It was a fully
edited story, with wonderful photographic images, from the neck down of course.
Julie Anne would not have expected those, but I think she have liked the
outcome. And Damn! She is right, Nigel has an almost perfect cock. Good for
her!

As Maria placed the book on the shelves for future customers, the diary
erased itself. Awaiting the next diarist in need of a sympathetic diary to
really listen to their pleas.

What do you think? Let me know at tsjuliemonroe@yahoo.com