My dirty diary

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The day was already cooling and it was with a small sigh of disappointment that I collected my towel and my drink from the edge of the pool and padded into the house. The large French windows were wide open. Earlier they had let the cool breeze drive out the stifling heat. Now, as evening approached, it seemed like a silly idea. Why not close them and keep the heat inside?

I swung them closed, then turned towards the bathroom, untying the strings on my bikini as I walked. The scanty red material slipped from my oiled body and fell to the floor, where I kicked them to one side. Plenty of time to pick them up later, I thought, before the others arrived.

I leaned into the shower area, a glass-block cubicle with no door and turned on the shower. Goosebumps erupted along my arms as the cold spray touched my skin. As I waited for the water to warm up, I let my mind wander, wondering what I’d wear for tonight’s party. I’d bought three new dresses this week, each one more delicious than the last. Well, it wasn’t every day that a young woman turned 21, was it?

The feeling of hot water running over my scalp was invigorating and a small shiver of delight shook my shoulders. I soaped my shoulders with shower gel, scrubbing away the factor 30 sun cream.

“You missed a bit.” I jumped at the sound of the voice. I hadn’t been expecting company – not for hours. But when I spun round, I found myself facing Emily, my BFF.
She laughed at my startled expression and held up two bottles of Jacob’s Creek as an explanation.

“I thought you’d want some help setting up,” she grinned.

“Don’t trust me, eh?” I pretended to look hurt, but Emily wasn’t buying it.

“It’s always more fun with two,” she laughed. She had a dirty laugh and I loved it.

I threw a casual glance at her clothes – cotton hot pants and a skimpy halter top. Hardly party attire, unless she was planning to strip off early for the boys.
I turned away from her and tried to wash the sun cream from my back, the place I assumed she’d meant. I had no problem with her seeing me naked. She’d seen me naked before.

“Lower,” she chuckled as I scrabbled to wash the small of my back. Where the hell was that loofah thing? I rearranged my arm so I was attacking my shoulder from below. Emily laughed – louder this time.

“Want me to get it?” I heard a clink as the Jacob’s Creek bottles gently touched down on the tiled floor. My breath caught in my throat as she approached.
Her fingers touched my back, just below my right shoulder blade and her hand appeared near my left cheek, a long blade of grass dangling from her slender fingers.

“How the hell - ?” I began, but Emily’s other hand was touching my cheek, drawing my head around to face her over my other shoulder.

“Anytime!” she grinned. “Happy to help out.”

“Thanks,” I muttered. The grass must have stuck to that awful sun cream.

“That’s all I get?” Her eyebrows climbed. For good measure, she stuck out her lower lip.

“I save you from an evening of deep embarrassment, keep your street cred one notch above zero and all I get is an over-the-shoulder mutter.”

I sighed and let her hand spin the rest of me around until I was facing her, the hot water pattering against my grass-free back. I smiled as her arms slid around my waist. She pulled herself tightly against me and I stiffened.

“You’re going to get all wet,” I sighed, then realised that I’d just delivered the perfect innuendo.

“So I’ll just borrow that wicked pink dress you bought yesterday,” she grinned.

“I’m wearing matching knickers, after all.”

I smiled at our old joke. Pink knickers meant no knickers.

“Hussy…” I muttered.

“Tart,” she retorted, pulling her body tightly against mine.

“Slut!” I could feel her skin radiating heat onto mine.


Before I could call her a whore, her lips collided with mine, startling me into silence. I didn’t resist. I loved kissing Emily. Sure, it had felt awkward at first, a bit like practicing on the inside of your own elbow. Awkward and deadly embarrassing if anyone caught you at it.

Emily had. She’d walked into my bedroom unannounced whilst I was in full make-out with my own arm, tongues and all. She’d laughed, I’d explained, she’d tried it. Funny to watch someone else kissing the crook of their own arm.

And then she’d suggested that we practice for real – on each other. Boy, that had taken some persuading. But if she hadn’t persisted that afternoon, I wouldn’t have been able to look her in the eye – ever.

She was in full flow now, her head tilted slightly, tiny beads of moisture decorating her long eyelashes. Our tongues danced, circling and exploring. Her jaw was opening and closing slightly as she kissed me, ensuring that our lips were rubbing constantly.

My arms found their way up her back, rubbing her shoulders that were left bare by the low halter top. I wondered if I dared to pull it up; to pull it off. Not completely off though. That would have meant breaking that delicious kiss. Now, I love kissing guys, don’t get me wrong. I love the way they kiss and assume control of your body as they get more excited. But Emily’s smooth skin was a delight to me – no stubble rash to fret about later. And her little tongue was heavenly against mine.

No, there was no way I wanted her to stop.
Not yet.

What was the rush? I wasn’t expecting anyone for hours. I grabbed a handful of the halter’s hem and began to draw it upwards. I wanted to expose her little breasts – to press them against mine.

I don’t know why my eyes drifted open at that moment – call it a sixth sense. Grinning at me over Emily’s shoulder was Jez, Emily’s latest boyfriend. I froze in mid-kiss. Emily’s eyes flickered open and she turned to follow my gaze.

“Oh, hi honey!” she trilled. “Enjoying the show?”

“You knew he was there?” I squeaked. “All along?”

“Course!” she smiled at me. “He was putting some of the other bottles in the fridge.”

“I – but…”

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Written by Annie Oakfield
Cargado June 8, 2021
Notes When Annie takes a pre-party shower, the last thing she expects is for her BFF to offer a helping hand.
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