Dear diary

July 14, 2021

Dear Diary,

Today was… wild. I don’t even know where to start. Went to the pool with Jess, Mia, and Tara—our usual crew, you know how we get. I was so excited, had my towel and sunscreen packed, but when we got there, I opened my bag and—ugh, total disaster. No bikini. Left it on my bed like an idiot. The girls were already stripping down, laughing, ready to jump in, and I’m just standing there, mortified. Jess was like, “Seriously? How do you forget that?” Mia smirked and said I’d figure something out, and Tara dragged me to the lost and found, insisting it’d be fine.

The lost and found was a mess—crumpled towels, mismatched flip-flops, a couple of saggy bikini bottoms. Nothing I’d touch. Then I saw it: a plain black one-piece swimsuit, folded at the bottom of the bin. Not my style—boring, no frills—but it looked clean enough, so I grabbed it. Tara shoved me toward the changing room, all “Stop whining, it’s just a swimsuit, let’s go already.” I was grossed out at first—someone else wore this, left it behind, and it probably hadn’t been washed. Ew. But they wouldn’t let it go, so I sighed and slipped it on.

Oh my God, Diary, it was tight. Like, too small for me tight. I had to tug it up, and it dug in everywhere—wedging up my ass, pulling snug between my legs, squeezing my chest so my nipples poked right through. I caught a glimpse in the mirror and froze. It was… different. Not like my bikinis that tie loose and flirty. This spandex clung to me, smooth and slick, outlining every curve. I felt naked but covered, and—okay, I’ll admit it—sexy. Really sexy. I ran my hands down the sides, just feeling it, and my fingers kept sliding over it without me even thinking. Something about that stretchy grip on my skin… I don’t know, it got me flushed.

Out by the pool, I swear everyone was staring. The lifeguard, some guys by the diving board, even a mom with her kid—I felt their eyes on me, on how this thing hugged my body. My nipples were rock hard, rubbing against the fabric every time I moved, and that cameltoe? Obvious. Embarrassing, but… it made my stomach flip in a good way. I couldn’t stop touching it—smoothing it over my hips, tugging it out of my ass, then letting it snap back. And the gross factor? That faded fast. Knowing another woman wore this, left her mark on it, maybe sweat or… more? It started turning me on. Weird, right?

The girls didn’t let me overthink it. Jess yanked me into the big pool, and we went nuts—splashing, wrestling, a full-on play fight. Mia grabbed my boobs to dunk me, laughing like a maniac, and I got Tara back, sliding my hands over her butt to push her under. It was all slippery chaos—hands everywhere, rubbing, grabbing. At one point, Jess’s bikini top came untied, then her bottoms got ripped off by the current—she was screaming, flailing, totally naked, and we were dying laughing. The lifeguard blew his whistle, yelling, “Get it together, ladies!”—red-faced, annoyed. We scrambled out, still giggling, and headed for the rapids instead.

Floating in the rapids was chill at first, just drifting with the current. Then Mia found the jets—those strong underwater blasts. She yelped, “Oh my God, get over here!” We lined up, giggling, letting the water hit us. When it blasted me just right—square between my legs, pounding through the swimsuit—I swear, Diary, I saw stars. Instant, insane orgasm, like my whole body clenched and exploded. Tara went next, moaning so loud Jess splashed her to shut her up. We kept going back, over and over, until my legs were jelly.

End of the day came too soon. Changing room was quiet, and I peeled off that swimsuit slow, ****. It felt like shedding something alive. The spandex was damp—chlorine, pool water, me. I couldn’t leave it behind. Stuffed it in my bag, brought it home. And now? I’m sitting here, Diary, running the crotch of it over my face. That smooth, cool texture on my cheeks, my lips—it’s electric. Smells like the pool, sharp and chemical, but there’s me in there too, my scent, maybe hers, whoever she was. It’s intoxicating. I keep pressing it to my nose, breathing it in, and my heart’s racing again.

What’s wrong with me? I don’t know. But I’m keeping this thing. Night, Diary.