Thread: When Nobody's Watching [Dane Stalling & dearestdarling]

September 13th, 1967 It should bother me that you... You watched me. I feel obligated to say that. It should bother me. How long have you b Just in the libr I want to ask why, but you still haven't given me a real reason for why you climb trees and spy on hippies without diverting the subject, so I guess I don't really expect an answer. If you were still watching, I guess you know that I took my diary home last night. I don't know what I wouldn't done if my parents found it-- things are really tense right now between them and Joyce-- but I just had to. Just for the night. It was one of those urges that I usually try to squash, but... I didn't. I took it home, hid it under my sweater. I think I wanted y some company. I wasn't going to go through with it. I thought about it, all through dinner in fact. I spilt the salt, my hands were trembling so badly, and Joyce called me a klutz. I didn't stray from my usual routine. I washed my hair, brushed my teeth. Kissed my parents goodnight nothing like cigarettes or cinnamon and I went to bed, fully clothed in the nightgown that Joyce thinks to be frumpy and 'too Little House on the Prairie'. She's right, but that's why I like it. Then I read until she claimed that my lamp was keeping her awake, so I switched it off. I waited in the dark until she was asleep. Then I did what you told me to do. It was strange. Before dinner I felt tired, but once I stripped off my gown I suddenly felt too... sensual, to sleep. I put my hands over the sheets, and then I heard something tap the window, so quietly that if I hadn't been more awake than I'd ever been in my entire life, I would've missed it. Joyce went to the window, and even with my eyes closed, I could smell the incense in Johnny's hair before she even slid the glass up. Joyce shushed him, told him that I was sleeping and I thought that she would slip out into the night with him, but he came in, instead. I didn't have to dream that night. I didn't mean to watch them, I'm not like you. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend that I was anywhere but there. But I felt so exposed , even under my sheet, and I shivered when I heard Johnny growl. I couldn't help it. I looked. His head was nestled between my sister's thighs, and he... He was kissing her there. Joyce moaned and I could feel my cheeks burning. I know that it's wrong, but... I wanted to ask for a turn. I wanted that kiss that he almost gave me, but anywhere that I liked. I wanted him to know that I was there, naked, waiting, and pull my coverlet away from my body. I'm ashamed of this, but... I found my hands moving to where I wanted his mouth, and I touched myself, just as he might've touched me. And it felt I shouldn't have watched, but I did. He came up for air and his chin was wet and dripping and I had to bite my lip to keep from gasping. Have you ever I had never watched a man do something like that. They thought they were being quiet, but I heard every breath. She almost looks like me in the dar My mind went to horrible places that probably would've delighted you. I wanted Johnny in my bed last night, but instead all I had was y my diary, held to me tight. I did what you said. I won't tell a soul. Tell me what you see when you're watching, I wan I want to know. G P.S. I did, and she nearly fainted. I assured her it was for an article Hopkins was writing and that seemed to revive her a little. I'm leaving it here-- what do you want me to do with it?