The Utopia Diaries Lauryn

"October 20, 2441"

The community tutors say it's a good idea to keep a diary. You get to practice writing, and it improves your ability to reflect on life. That's what they say. So I thought I'd give it a try.

Since I don't really know where to start, I'll just follow the guidelines. You know, begin with the odd bit of autobiographical stuff, and then just write about what my days are like and what's important to me.

Well - my name is Lauryn Simeoni. I'm 20 years old, and I have three hobbies: aerobics, cooking and astronautics. Yeah, I know, it sounds like I'm some kind of airhear bimbo, right? But I'm not. Okay, so I'll probably never be a great writer or anything like that, but my I.Q. is actually quite a bit above average. I'm good in Math and a slew of other technical fields, and I was first (oh yes I was!) in my Shuttle Piloting class. I'm quite proud of that.

Also, good cooking is no "airhead" discipline, I assure you! Preparing various kinds of food in the right way, so as to get just the right taste out of them, is tricky business indeed. But once you get into it, you can never go back! You will be a slave to your taste buds! Maybe one day I'll talk about my pineapple salad, or my squished walnut dressing, or my ice cream recipes, or...

And, it's really the same with aerobics. The thing about never going back once you're into it, I mean. Once that awareness of your body sinks in, you just cannot imagine ever letting your shape slip back to the old standards. Your body craves the exertion. At least mine does!

So those are my hobbies. I have lots of other interests, but they're mostly theoretical, meaning that they involve reading. I download books several times a week. Not a lot of prose literature; it's mostly history and science and autobiographies. A bit of psychology, too. I don't have time to read every day, but it's close. I try to go through a couple of books a week.

Brant, one of my boyfriends, is trying to get me into philosophy. It's the one really large subject that I've never really bothered with. I'm not sure why, but it just seems so dry to me. I'm satisfied with all the other subjects I study. It's not fair on Brant, though; he's one of the most intelligent guys I know, and he takes his relationship with me really seriously. So he thinks I should be interested in the same things as he is. Which I guess is true.

Then again, is it, really? We're different people. Just because he's found the meaning of life in his philosophy books, that doesn't mean that *my* meaning of life is necessarily the same as his, does it? Oh well, I don't want to get into that now.

The story of my life is pretty short, actually. I was born and raised right here in the Utopia Movement, and I've never been unhappy with that. I know how people live in the rest of the world, and it's quite clear that our way is better. I'm sure it's just a matter of time before the practises of the Utopia Movement spread to the entire planet.

Our system of autonomous, moneyless communities tied together by a "ghost government" which is only there in the shape of a set of shared ideals just works phenomenally well. People volunteer to do the necessary work, always in the company of friends, which keeps you in a good mood (all the really crappy work is automated, after all), and there's always plenty of time left to do whatever you want.

Speaking of which; I suddenly realize that I left out a quite important interest of mine just before: boyssss! Ah, those marvelous male creatures! Most good-looking guys could score with me if they wanted to. I'm simply in awe of every Adonis that comes my way, ohhh yesss! So many boys, so little time... Sigh!

This is not to say, mind you, that I only go for the good-looking ones. It's only fair to give the others a chance, too. I consider intelligence almost as great a plus as good looks. Almost. I admit that most of my boyfriends are very good-looking, while I haven't really devoted that much time to digging up the really intelligent ones.

I figure it's a stage I'm going through. Right now I'm young and full of energy, and I just can't stay off those pretty boys (and I gather the feeling is mutual!), but when I really think about it, the kind of boyfriend that ultimately satisfies me the most, intellectually and emotionally, is the kind that is so fascinated with me that he only feels alive when he's near me. *That's* the kind of guy I would really find it meaningful to comfort and care for. That's the kind of love I want to end up with, eventually. And whether he looks good or not is really not important.

But now, while I'm young and sort of explosive-like (y'know? Eeeeeeehh, gotta have it!!), I find good looks important in a guy. Mostly.

I should go on a bit about my own looks, really. Most of my boyfriends say those are my greatest asset. Guess they're just horny; boy will be boys, right? I don't mind, though. I'm getting just as much out of it as they are. In fact, I heard about this old foreign writer from the 20th century whose idea of beautiful prose was to write down his erotic experiences just after he'd actually had them. Make love to a woman, and then roll over and write down what it was like. I immediately thought, "Wow, what a great idea!" And you know, I think I'll do the very same thing!

I was talking about my looks, though. My boyfriends say I'm "exotic". I never really could figure out exactly what it means to be "exotic", but I guess it's something about the inter-racial mix I'm a product of. You see, my father is an Afro-American. His family line isn't very well documented, but we know that a couple of caucasian links got into it somewhere; our name, for instance: Simeoni, comes from an Italian great-grandfather. So he's got a nice blend of genes from several races.

My mother, who used to be a Turkish national, is half Turkish and half Russian. Her mother, my grandmother, was a part of the Mongol minority in Russia, so my mother inherited some half-Asian traits. The result of my parents' joining, namely me, is quite indeterminate. Most people would identify me as a cross between several races, but I could also pass for an Indian, a mulatto, an Indonesian, a Polynesian... you know, all those "exotic" ones! I even have a slight hint of freckles, though I couldn't tell you exactly where it came from.

I'm very happy with my looks. Arms, body and legs are all slender and well-toned. I have an eye-catching pair of full, soft breasts to go with my well-rounded hips. I don't think I've met one person in my entire life, male or female, who didn't think I was beautiful. So that's just peachy! :-)

The tutors say that these diaries might be read by people in the far future. The way I would like the future to see and remember me is in my white summer dress, which I'm wearing right now. It's very short and it flaunts my curves better than any other piece of clothes I've ever had. Its whiteness also provides a great contrast to my light-brown skin, as, of course, it doesn't bother to cover my arms and most of my legs. I feel very sensual and open in it; it makes me aware of my body, or rather: of my sex appeal.

And it's great for casual love-making, since I don't wear anything underneath it.

Ah, I guess I'll have to stop writing for today. My friend Jaspi just stopped by, and he's going right for the goods! Oooh, his hand is feeling me up right now... I must remember to describe our love-making right after we've finished. Hold on.

"October 21, 2441"

All right - Morning! Jaspi was insatiable last night! I passed right out when he was finally satisfied, much too exhausted to write down the experience just then. I just woke up a minute ago, and Jaspi is still lying next to me, sound asleep. Goodness, that torso of his is so sweet-looking! Anyway, let me try and recall the experience. It probably won't be entirely accurate, so please bear with me for this initial attempt at, I guess, erotica!

Ready? Okay...

Jaspi came into my room when I was just finishing the inaugural entry of my new diary. He greeted me, and I smiled back at him, letting him know that I was available, and eager for his touch. He came up close to me, and put his right hand between my legs, up underneath the lower part of my white dress, making the palm of his hand touch the outside of my pussy, naked under the dress.

A jolt of arousal seared through my body, and I put aside the laptop typer. I turned my body towards Jaspi's, and his left hand came up to my right breast. He lightly punched its nipple with his forefinger, making another sexy jolt course through me. The only thing I could think of was to surrender to the sensation.

I fell back onto my bed, with Jaspi falling onto me. He lay there for some ten seconds, resting his body upon mine as if he was getting comfy on a water bed. He's often compared the sensation of lying on my body to that of lying on a water bed; my body is just as soft and liquidy as one such, that's what he says.

Anyway, Jaspi then began pressing his three middle fingers in between my vaginal lips, smearing all of my pussy with the initial lubricating juice he found within me. As he deftly stimulated my tiny clitoris, my sex secrete started flowing in abundance, as a result of the arousal that spread throughout my body. He kept smearing my aroma all over my lower body, and the air became rich with the scent of me in a dizzying state of hyperventilating arousal.

Impassioned, Jaspi removed his shorts, which were all he wore, and very quickly sniffed himself to a near-climax. He then pressed his iron-hard member into my greasy vagina, and managed only two brief strokes before we swept each other away in some chaotic ocean of convulsive motion, both absorbed in the raging onslaught of the orgasmic shock-waves that rippled through our loin-locked bodies, from one end to the other, and back, again and again.

Pretty pleased with ourselves already, we did however decide to go on. Jaspi descended on me and started licking. He licked off all the half-dried girl-goo he'd previously smeared onto my lower body, and which was now mixed with sweat.

The feel of his tongue - a warm, living organ - drove me into a sensual haze that once again hammered me ever higher onto the staircase of absolute ecstasy. I tossed my head from side to side as he worked on me, dragging his wriggling tongue over the taut skin of my lower abdomen and inner thighs, and finally, sweetly, over the spartan hairing covering my vulva, past it and into my vagina, probing my every recess, and thereupon once again focusing on my tense little clitoris.

I was pushed over the edge again, and cried out in helpless rapture as I felt the spasms of my vaginal muscles propagate throughout my loins, quickly evolving into a mighty tremor that repeatedly shook my body, as if to shout at the core of my being, "You're alive!! Alive!!! ALIVE!!!!"

Wheeew, yes, that was exactly how it felt! And that was only half of the fun we had! Hey, that wasn't bad if I do say so myself! I actually get turned on when I read that back! I think I'll go find... hmm... Antonio. Yesss...