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Summerland: Nikki Westerly's Summer Sex Diary Part 2: Moonlight And Diamonds
(mf, f-mast, grope, oral, voy, cons)
by Ambush Bug ([email protected])

Sunday, June 27

Wow. Five days since my last entry, and let me tell you, it's been a heck of
an almost week. A very strange week, that has left me feeling strange. I've
been very active. A busy bee. And now that I've got some time to myself I can
get caught up. Hopefully.

I shall summarize, then explain: I've naturally spent most of my time with
Cameron, but I've been spending what you could call quality time with other
peeps in my world. Aunt Ava, and Johnny (the guy she loves but won't admit
she loves), and Bradin and his girlfriend Sara, and Derrick, my little buddy
brother. I finally finished Broca's Brain (Carl Sagan, science, astronomy,
etcetera), and am currently and deeply immersed in Anais Nin's A Spy In The
House Of Love. No, not a romance, but a sort of poetic erotic novel written
by the legendary Nin in the fifties and published in the sixties. Considering
becoming a poet, by the way.

Note to self: check out Henry Miller. He's supposed to be brilliant.

Speaking of poetry and erotica and all: I've been expanding my sexual
horizons this last almost week, with Cameron of course, but also, in a way,
without him. I'm not speaking of masturbation (although that has certainly
been a gigantic part of my Sensuous Journey), but something else. Something
I actually shy away from mentioning even in this journal. But I'm a writer,
hey? I must be totally honest, unflinching in my approach to life, truth,
justice and the American Way. So here goes.

Aunt Ava first. I've always thought she was really cool, the coolest aunt in
the whole world, but she's even more so now that she is taking care of me and
Bradin and Derrick. She tries hard, not just to be a good surrogate mom to
us, but to be a friend too. Especially to me, probably, because I'm a girl,
and we just naturally have more things in common. Try catching either one of
my brothers sitting down and talking with her about fashion, or makeup, or
boys. I do all these things, and I help her cook and clean too. She's been
teaching me some new dishes, and while I have to admit that I'm nowhere near
a good cook, I do alright, and I'm learning more every day. Ava says that
being a good cook will be indispensable when I have a husband and kids to
feed, which I suppose is true, but after she said that I started wondering:
will there be a husband and kids in my future? I'm not so sure. Maybe a kid,
I would love to have a little girl, but a husband? Granted, I would enjoy
having a guy to come home to every night, and to share all my hopes and
dreams with, to feed and love and nurture, and to make love with every single
night of the year, but the same guy? Let's just hold our horses here. Yes, I
love Cameron with all my heart, but a life like that is so far off in the
future. I plan to do my twenties in the same manner that Aunt Ava is doing
her life now, beautiful and single and free. So if Cameron truly is The One,
then he'll just have to wait about seventeen years or so. And that would be
one heck of a long engagement.

Speaking of beautiful and single and free: I really do think Aunt Ava is
beautiful, even though she's what? Forty? Something like that. But man, just
look at her. That fine brownish blonde hair, those big round eyes, those
classic cheekbones. And her body. I will murder people to end up with a body
like that someday. All perfect curves and smooth tanned skin (I can't tan
worth a crap!). And nice big boobs. Full and firm and round. Listen to me,
I'm starting to sound like Melissa Etheridge.

Come to my window
Crawl inside, wait by the light of the moon
Come to my window
I'll be home soon.

Cool song, but I'm not a lesbian. I like boys. Honest.

Anyway: we had a cookout the other day and Aunt Ava sat with Johnny, in the
sand down near the water, while they ate hot dogs and hamburgers and talked.
They were down there for a long time, and I was sure they were going to end
up making out. But they didn't. Those two are impossible. It's so obvious
that they're in love. I can't imagine what might be holding them back.

Speaking of Johnny: I've had some pretty interesting conversations with him
too in the last week. Mostly about books and school and all that. Johnny
actually knows a lot about modern American literature, and he's given me a
whole list of writers to check out. That's where I found out about Anais Nin
and Henry Miller. He also suggested Erica Jong, who isn't a "modern" writer,
but more of a "postmodern" writer. But she writes about sex and relationships
(the classic Fear of Flying, among others) and the struggle to be an
independent woman, so I'm definitely going to look into it. He's also taken
me around to some of the more interesting locales in the area, like Two
Brothers Beach and Admiral Bay. He showed me some tidepools over at Spanish
Cove, and while we were on our way back, walking along the beach, we stopped
and watched the sunset. It was as beautiful as sunset always is, of course,
but it just seemed that much more enjoyable with Johnny there with me. He
was talking about D.H. Lawrence and the significance of his work in the
early twentieth century (I know, it would bore most kids stiff, but I was
fascinated), and as he talked and as the sun went down he put his arm around
my waist and it was, well, romantic.

Yes, I'm rotten. I have the hots for my aunt's almost boyfriend. But he's
so smart, and good looking, and funny, and he treats me like a grownup most
of the time. And when he puts his arm around me, like he did at sunset, I
get chills and goosebumps and warm all over, all at the same time. I believe
Pheobe Snow called it a "giggling teenage crush" (that's another thing
Johnny has taught me about, the best retro music). But be advised, diary,
it is just a crush. I'm not in love with him or anything, and I know that
my "relationship" with him won't even go as far as his and Aunt Ava's
"relationship." Still, it's impossible not to feel special when I'm in his
presence, or to give in to the romance of spending time with a hunky older
man. Impossible too not to think about him when I'm by myself and feeling
frisky. I will say this and no more: he has joined the small crowd of guys
I dream about when I'm pleasuring myself in my libidinous solitude.

I've been spending time with Bradin too. Going to see him surf, mostly,
but still. He's getting so good at it, and he's been talking about doing it
professionally. I'm glad for him, because he seems so into it, although I
have to admit that I'm also a little concerned; surfing is cool, no doubt,
and one should always pursue one's dreams with wholeheartedness, but really,
by the time he's twenty five he'll be too old, washed up, and in dire need
of a REAL career. I wish I could talk to him about it, but he's kind of a
moody guy. And besides, he's either surrounded by his surfing buddies, or
by beach bunnies, or he's hanging with Sara, his crazy girlfriend.

Sara's kinda cool, though. Yeah, she's insane, and she takes a lot of risks,
and gets herself into trouble, but she's cool anyway. She's gorgeous, for
one thing. Bright blonde beachgirl hair, deep blue eyes, cheekbones. And her
BODY. I thought Aunt Ava had a nice bod, but honestly, Sara puts her to
shame. Puts everybody to shame. She's perfectly proportioned, nothing too big
or too small. Body by Goldilocks. Grrrr, I hate her. Especially since I know
that she's letting Bradin have sex with her.

How do I know this? Well, in order to explain that, I would have to explain
what happened Friday night. But if I'm going to do that, then I might as well
tell about everything that happened on Friday, which means that Bradin and
Sara will have to wait for now.

Okay, so, Friday: it started out innocently enough, with me and Aunt Ava
going over to the promenade to look for vases for our new flower arranging
project. Derrick came along with us, but then he ran into some little girl
that lives up the beach and the two of them ran off to play a video game and
I didn't see them again. Then Johnny and Jay showed up, but Jay, when he saw
that we were doing a totally girl thing, suddenly found something to do and
left again. Jay's cool, but he's a total beach guy.

After that it was mostly Aunt Ava and Johnny mooning over each other and
giving each other love eyes. They nearly forgot all about me. Those two.

We stopped at a bistro to get a bite to eat, and while Aunt Ava was in the
bathroom Johnny and I sat at a table and talked. Inane small talk, really,
but what we talked about wasn't as important as what happened. And now it's
secret time, because I can't tell anybody about this, but Johnny touched me.
He didn't grab my boobs or anything, but he did put his hand on my leg and
kind of move it up and down, like he was caressing me or something. I was
wearing shorts, so his skin was touching mine, and I have to admit, it gave
me goosebumps. And made me a little horny too. I know my nipples became two
little pebbles inside my bikini top, and I suddenly couldn't think of a
thing to say. But then when Aunt Ava came back from the bathroom he took
his hand away and everything went back to normal.

Now, I know I should feel horrible, but I really don't. I can't help it, I
got turned on, and even though Johnny is technically Ava's property (and I
belong to Cameron, of course!), I can't resist the urge to think about what
could possibly happen between us. He obviously has molesting me on his mind.
Or maybe he doesn't? Maybe he was just copping a free feel, and that's all
he intends to do? Maybe he didn't even realize he was touching me in an
inappropriate way? Maybe somebody slipped me a mickey and I hallucinated the
whole thing? Who knows? What I do know is that I couldn't get the sensation
of Johnny's hand on my thigh out of my mind for the rest of the day, and when
we got home I dashed right up to my room and slammed the door and did what
any red blooded American girl would do: I masturbated myself silly.

But what do I do now? I vote for nothing. Pretend it didn't happen. But if it
happens again, and I'm SURE that it means something, then I'll just have to
say something to Aunt Ava. But could I do that? I mean, of course, I would
want Aunt Ava to know that her One And Only True Love isn't being faithful,
but could I do that to Johnny? He's so cool, and so nice, I would hate to be
responsible for him ending up in prison and being branded a sex offender for
the rest of his life.

Confused now.

Also glad that I don't have to figure it all out this very minute. I'll cross
that bridge (or fall off of it) when I come to it.

Anyway: after lunch we came back to the house and (after a few minutes alone
in my room) Aunt Ava and I spent the afternoon fiddling with flowers until
it was time to head down to Two Brothers (just a coincidence, really, that I
have two brothers) for a beach party. The whole gang was going, of course,
even Bradin.

He brought Sara along, naturally, which made me feel totally inferior. She's
just so gorgeous. Jealous rage lives in my bones because of her. Fortunately,
I brought Cameron with me, so I wasn't stewing in my own spleen the whole
time.

We all sat around with a bunch of other beach gnomes and cooked hot dogs
and hamburgers and drank beer (not those of us under twenty one; we had soda
pops) and talked and laughed and sang songs from the eighties and nineties.
Except for Jay, he seems abnormally fond of the Beach Boys. No surprise
there. Johnny and Aunt Ava were a pair, of course, and they looked so happy
together. But then, all of us with a significant other looked happy. Even the
two gay guys, I don't remember their names. Anyway, it was a total blast of
fun in the warm California evening, one of those nights that seem a little
magical, and you never want it to end.

Along about eleven o'clock, though, people started drifting away, mostly back
to their homes. And some peeps snuck off to isolated areas on the beach to
indulge themselves in, shall we say, private moments? And, since I am now a
Bad Girl, a strumpet, a tart, a wench, a California Girl (Jay wishes we all
could be one), I snuck off with Cameron.

I have to say this first: after our very first truly sexual encounter at The
Cave, which is at Spanish Cove, by the way, Cameron and I have found even
more reason to be together. Although, oddly enough, we haven't actually been
spending as much time together as before. The Busy Bee Syndrome as mentioned.
But the time that we do spend together is much more intense, more passionate
and romantic. More valuable to us, if you will. Also much more sexual. I have
been honing my skills as the performer of oral love on my boyfriend. Sucking
his dick like a madgirl, to be crude about it. Still not used to the taste of
come (or cum?), though I've gotten several mouthfuls of it in the last five
days. The accumulation of experience is not always easy. It can be a lot of
fun, though, especially when you're the recipient of that kind of thing.
Meaning: Cameron has been going down on me.

In my last entry I noted that sex had become my favorite thing in the world,
but it's important to also note that as a subset you could include oral sex,
both giving and getting. Especially getting. I LOVE getting my pussy licked!
And Cameron is pretty good at it (not that I've got anybody else to compare
him to) (outside of my fantasy life, anyway). But yes, Cameron has been doing
that for me, and now I love him a hundred times more than ever.

That was what he did that Friday night. We found a fairly secluded spot
(no helicopters overhead with spotlights, which has happened before), and
started making out, and he masturbated me while he sucked on my nipples (my
nipples have their very own subset, by the way) and made me totally come,
then I sucked his dick till he came in my mouth. I figured after that sex
was pretty much over for the evening, but then Cameron asked me if I wanted
him to go down on me too. Needless to say, the idea appealed to me. But I
was reluctant, because a girl just can't whip it out like a guy can; I had
to take off at least a portion of my clothes, and it wasn't like we were
someplace where we were sure we wouldn't have a sudden audience. But Cameron
was so sweet, saying that he wanted to give me that kind of pleasure, and
that it was only fair since I'd done it for him. It took a little convincing,
but not much. I finally said okay and took off my shorts and panties (leaving
my tanktop on) and laid down, but then Cameron laid down too and told me to
get above him. No, he did not say "sit on my face," but that was what he was
suggesting, so I did, I sat on his face, with my knees on each side of his
head, and he took my butt in his hands and pressed his mouth to my pussy and
started going at it. Kissing and licking, wiggling his tongue in between my
pussy lips, and sucking on my clit. It was SO good! I came like crazy, three
or four times, and sometime during all that orgasming I'd pulled my tanktop
up and started playing with my boobs, which just made it that much more
enjoyable. By the fourth or fifth time (I lost count, truly) I was nearly
delirious with delight. And almost worn out. There's only so much pleasure
a girl can stand.

When I finally got off of him I noticed that Cameron's dick had gotten hard
all over again, so like the good girlfriend I am I sucked it again, and lo
and behold, he had a second orgasm. He said that was the first time he's
ever come twice in such a short period of time. He seemed truly amazed;
apparently, guys can't come many times in a row like girls can. Which is
only one of the multitudinous reasons I love being a girl.

We lay in the sand just cuddling for a while, then Cameron walked me home in
the moonlight, and it was so romantic. He kissed me at the front door of my
house and then held me for a few moments, and with the moon shining down on
us and the cool beach breeze washing over us, I felt so much in love that I
almost suggested that Cameron sneak in with me. Up to my bedroom.

Yes, I was thinking about giving him my special treasure. I wanted to so
much. I knew it would be okay to do that, to go that far with this totally
wonderful guy I loved, but at the same time I flashed on the idea of us
getting caught and both of our lives becoming living hells forever, and I
decided to wait. So, when I finally went into the house I was walking on
clouds with a little bit of sadness to accompany me.

I really should be a poet.

I had just gotten to the stairs when I heard this noise coming from Bradin's
room. I'm not gonna try to create a big suspenseful moment by claiming that
I had no idea what it was, though. The TRUTH was that I knew right away what
it was: a girl moaning in ecstasy. I should know, I'm a girl and I've moaned
in ecstasy quite a bit lately. Anyway, I heard this girl practically coming
her brains out in Bradin's room and I stopped in my tracks. Then I heard
Bradin moaning, too, and I thought, 'Oh my God, he's having sex with Sara in
there.' I'm a real Nancy Drew. Anyway, what I should have done was just mind
my own business and go on up to my room, but instead I decided to be nosey
and go have a look. I know, bad me.

So I tiptoed over to Bradin's door and carefully turned the knob, then pushed
the door open a tiny bit and looked in, and, sure enough, there was Bradin
and Sara on his bed, doing The Big Nasty. Sara was on bottom and Bradin was
on top, and they were both naked, and he was giving it to her like mad. And
she was going, "Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Oh yeah!" each time he jammed it into her.
And I was just standing there and watching.

Well, not exactly JUST that; I saw that Sara had her legs spread wide on each
side of her, and I was thinking to myself, 'Maybe I should do it that way
when I finally let Cameron make love to me.' I was thinking other things too,
but I really don't wanna say what they were. But, yet again, brutal honesty
must win out, otherwise why bother writing anything? So, I was also thinking
about how proud I was of Bradin, that he could be so good in bed that Sara
would be responding that way, and I thought, 'You go, big brother.' And I was
thinking too about how erotic that whole scene was, the passion and intensity
of their lovemaking, their frantic drive toward rapture. I'm telling you, it
was HOT.

It got even hotter when Bradin suddenly got up on his knees and Sara sat up
in front of him and started feverishly sucking his dick. Or, more accurately,
she took about half of it into her mouth and started jacking him off. She
moaned while she was doing it, and Bradin was moaning too, and in no time he
was coming. I know, because he took it out of her mouth and let it squirt all
over her face. Just like in a porno movie (actually, I'm guessing here; I've
never actually SEEN a porno movie).

I figured that my brother coming all over his girlfriend's face was my cue to
leave, so I quietly shut the door and went up to my room. A changed woman, I
might add. But I can't decide if it was in a bad way or not. Don't get me
wrong, I wasn't scarred by what I saw (though maybe I should be?); no,
instead I was turned on. Yes, I was. And for all the wrong reasons. I mean,
okay, I saw two people doing it, and that by itself would have justified
being sexually excited, but it was my BROTHER I'd seen. And not only that but
the images I got in my mind were clear enough that I could continue to study
the scene long after it was over. I kept seeing my brother's dick (which is
huge, by the way), and how Sara had taken it into her mouth, and how it
looked when it was spurting splooge all over her. Plus (and somehow this is
the more frightful confession), I could still see Sara's body, her full firm
perfect boobs, and her beautiful face twisted into a mask of unrestrained
pleasure. That turned me on too.
But if that was my last confession, I might not be feeling so out of
sorts right now. It's not, though. Because I also have to confess that I
masturbated while I was thinking about these things. Playing with myself,
rubbing my pussy and fondling my boobs while behind my eyes I recalled
Bradin's dick, all long and thick and hard, come leaping out of it like
crazy; Sara's gorgeous face getting splashed; her unbelievable boobs with
their tiny, pretty nipples. And me. Yeah, me in there, at times sucking
on my brother's dick, at other times getting fucked by him, and at still
other times being the one on top of Sara, making her shout and cry out,
"Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Oh yeah!"

I have been spending the last two days shrouded in strange feelings because
of all this. Guilty, sort of, but mostly feeling like I'm just a plain old
perv. Because I willingly went and looked when I already knew what I would
see. And because I didn't flinch or turn away when I saw what I saw. And
because I've been replaying what I saw again and again, indulging a
heretofore unsuspected affinity for incest and lesbian fantasies. On top of
my recently discovered sexual attraction to Johnny, my Aunt's boyfriend and
a man old enough to be my father.

The obvious question is why, but I think the truly pressing question here is,
what do I do about it? How do I resolve these feelings, or should I even try
to resolve them at all? I mean, am I really wrong, or is this just one of the
many facets of the diamond that is me? I have no idea, and no answers. and
it's getting late and my head's starting to hurt. So I'll stop typing now,
and try to work things out tomorrow. Good luck to me.

END

    

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