Tara spilled the beans.

July 22, 2021

Dear Diary,

Tonight was pure madness—my place, my friends, and a whole lot of lines crossed. Invited Jess, Mia, and Tara over for dinner—thought it’d be chill, just pasta and wine, catching up. Should’ve known better. Tara, that snitch, had already spilled everything about my swimsuit thing. Walked in with that sly grin, her blue Pengu one-piece dangling from her bag, and said, “They wanna hear it from you.” Jess and Mia pounced—eyes gleaming, demanding details. “Tell us about the fetish!” Jess teased, while Mia smirked, “You’ve been holding out on us.” No escaping it, so I spilled—pool days, Nick, the white ASICS, the porn rabbit hole. They ate it up, laughing, prodding for more.

Then Tara upped the game. Pulled out her Pengu swimsuit and tossed it on the couch. “Let’s see ‘em,” she said, nodding at my stash. I dragged out the two black one-pieces—the lost-and-found one and the new one—still unwashed, sticky with sweat and me, smelling like chlorine and sex. Jess snatched the first, Mia grabbed the other, and they stripped right there, tugging them on. “Gross,” Jess giggled, but she didn’t care—neither did Mia. Tara slipped into her blue suit, and I threw on the white ASICS, heart pounding. Dinner forgotten, Mia hijacked the TV—hooked up her phone, streamed some swimsuit porn, all slick spandex and moans filling the room.

It escalated fast. Jess grabbed a water bottle, splashed it over me—“Let’s see that transparency!”—and the white swimsuit went sheer, my body on full display. They whooped, and then hands were everywhere—groping, rubbing, Tara’s fingers sliding over my chest, Mia’s nails digging into my hips. Jess licked my neck, salty from the water, and I just… let go. Tara pushed me down, spread my legs, and—oh God—her mouth was on me, eating me out through the swimsuit. First time a woman’s done that, first time I’ve felt that. Weird, doing this with friends, but I was past caring—too horny, too **** to cum.

I turned it back on Mia—pulled her close, peeled the swimsuit aside, and went for it. Licked her, tentative at first, then deeper, her taste sharp and wild on my tongue. She moaned, loud, and it drove me crazier. Then Jess yanked something out of her bag—a dragon dildo, huge, gnarly, scales and ridges glinting under the light. “Try this,” she grinned, and before I could blink, she was working it into me. So big, stretching me, filling me up like nothing ever has—pain and bliss crashing together. I bucked against it, screaming, while Tara grabbed the Satisfyer from my stash, cranked it on Mia, and—holy hell—Mia squirted, a gush hitting the floor. Jess did the same to herself, soaking the rug, laughing like a maniac.

We were a tangle—wet swimsuits, sticky hands, porn blaring, the dragon dildo pounding me to the edge. I came—hard, shaking, a mess of grunts and gasps—then collapsed, dripping, the room reeking of us. They kept going a while, giggling, squirting more, but I was done—spaced out, swimsuit clinging, that dildo still warm beside me. Friends or not, it didn’t matter anymore—just wanted that release, and God, I got it.

Woke up to write this, floor sticky, TV still humming static. They’re crashed out around me, swimsuits half-on. I’m wrecked, Diary, and loving it. Night—or morning, whatever.