Dear Diary,
When I awakened this morning I found my satin sheets clinging to my sultry, moist body. I was confused on how this came to be. As I laid back down to unwind my legs from around the sheet, I began to remember the events from last night.
My first memory was of me in a room. I don’t know where I was but it was not familiar. There was a nightstand, a bottle of Champaign and a beautiful golden wood poster bed in the center. The room was very warm, kind of how I imagine it is like in Mississippi during the late spring. I was dressed in a very petite pair of blue cutoff jean shorts. They were so short in fact that if I were to even hint about bending over my ass checks would peak out as if they were saying “hey”. I was also wearing my favorite white lace midriff shirt. I say it was my favorite diary, because my tits flow over the top to form the most perfect cleavage any man has ever seen.
I began to walk around this strange room running my fingers along the bed, thinking of all the lovely ways I would want be tied and straddled along the wooden posts. I was waiting for something, anything to happen. Then it did. There was a knock on the door. I opened it and there he stood. This man, this man I have never seen before that very moment. He looked so handsome in a pair of tight blue jeans that pressed up against his already hard cock making it very apparent to me how lucky I was. He was also wearing a button up white shirt with the first few buttons undone; his chest was just bulging beneath the cotton covering.