Maria

July 24, 2021 (Continued)

Dear Diary,

Tonight was… oh God, I don’t even know where to start. Went to pick up those swimsuits from the marketplace—across town, nerves jangling the whole way. Knocked on the door, and this woman—Maria—opened it. Tall, blonde, stunning, maybe 15 years older than me, all grace and curves in this daringly short polka-dot summer dress. Long hair spilling down her back, big breasts pushing against the fabric—beautiful, like some goddess from a fever dream. She smiled, warm and kind, introduced herself, and I felt this instant ease, like she’d already figured me out. Invited me in, led me up the stairs, and Diary, I couldn’t stop staring. Her legs—long, muscular but soft, perfect—and under that tiny dress? A light blue one-piece swimsuit, tight as hell, clenching her firm butt, rubbing her cunt with every step. The spandex stretched so snug I could see the outline, that cameltoe swaying as she climbed. Another woman into this? My fetish, right there, alive in her? I was mesmerized—wished those stairs went on forever.

Her bedroom was next—swimsuits draped on the bed, the purple Speedo and striped Arena, tossed with this casual perfection that made my pulse race. Stepping in felt naughty, like I was trespassing in her private world, but Maria just waved me in, all “Make yourself at home, try them on.” Left me alone to change, and undressing there—stripping in a stranger’s space—lit me up. Slid into the Arena first, and oh my God, it was tight—a struggle to pull up, narrow straps digging into my shoulders, no lining to soften it. The spandex hit my bare pussy, and the cameltoe was instant—obvious, raw, exhilarating. Ran my hands over it, feeling every inch grip me, and I was already leaking.

A quick knock, and Maria stepped in before I could answer—caught me mid-spin, inspecting me like I was hers to judge. “Turn around,” she said, voice kind but firm, “walk a little.” I did, blushing, and she praised me—“Looks amazing, hugs you just right.” That warmth, that approval, it sank into me. Then she upped it—“Put the other one on, over it.” Stayed to watch this time, leaning against the doorframe, eyes steady. Peeling the purple Speedo up over the Arena while she stared felt like a striptease in reverse—intimate, exposed, my hands shaking as the second layer squeezed me tighter. Two swimsuits, no lining, spandex on spandex, rubbing me raw. I was dizzy, wet, her gaze pinning me.

Then Maria took over—kind, but dominant, like she knew I’d follow. Lifted her dress, slow, revealing that light blue swimsuit stretched over her hips, her cunt outlined, little blonde pubic hairs peeking out. “Kneel,” she said, soft but commanding, “lick me.” I dropped, heart hammering, and pressed my mouth to her thighs—warm, smooth—then her swimsuit-clad cunt. Licked the spandex, tasting chlorine and her, feeling it slick under my tongue. She sighed, low, and I lost myself in it—her warmth, her scent, the fabric rubbing us both.

That’s all I’ve got time for now—lecture’s calling, and I’m a mess, still buzzing, still in these double swimsuits under my dress. Maria’s in my head, her taste on my lips. More tonight, Diary—I need to finish this. Later.