by S. E. Law
I even take the time to draw all of his tattoos, his muscles, and his body hair, working from memory. I try to add that shimmer he gets in his eyes when he gets excited. I draw his chest, his abs, his hips, and then I pause.
How big is Dane’s dick?
I bite the end of my pencil pondering this question. I close my eyes and imagine what this bit of him might look like.
I draw him erect. And large. Oh yes, this is the way it must be.
I continue, indulging my secret fantasies. I even draw a few sketches of Dane masturbating, his hand shafting the massive animal between his legs. I give him an expression of pure ecstasy as he orgasms, and I make him come hard, just as I would in real life.
I’m biting my bottom lip, seductively eyeing my creation when suddenly, a voice startled me from my reverie.
“Zoe!” I hear my mom call from downstairs. “Where are you?”
Holy shit!
I slam my diary shut in terror. I really lost myself in these drawings because I’m so turned on by the thought of Dane masturbating. Quickly, I slip my journal into a nearby bag and take a deep breath and try to center myself as I hear my mom’s footsteps approaching my bedroom door.
“In here,” I manage to call out in a fairly normal voice. Just in time because my mom’s upstairs in a moment.
“Knock knock,” she chirps while swinging the door open, poking her head around the corner. I stare at her blankly, still trying to recover. Meanwhile Cocoa, our German Shepard, excitedly barges into the room and jumps up on my lap. She begins frantically licking my face.
“There you are!” June says with a smile. “I’m running to the store and thought I might get some things for us to make cookies together tomorrow. Would you like to do that? Doesn’t that sound fun?”
I can’t even bring myself to respond. I nod yes, trying my hardest to appear normal. Thank god for Cocoa’s rambunctious licking and prancing because her antics mask my embarrassment.
“Um sure, that sounds good. Sure, okay.”
My reply is mumbled and incoherent but my mom notices nothing. June merely smiles and nods back at me.
“Oh good, sweetie. I’m looking forward to spending tie with you.” Then, she heads back downstairs, closing the door behind her.
I let out a huge sigh of relief, my entire body collapsing bonelessly.
That was so close!
Meanwhile, Cocoa curls up in my lap and I scratch behind her ears.
“Thanks girl,” I murmur. “You’re a lifesaver.”
Then again, I do feel guilty. My mom is sitting downstairs thinking about baking with me tomorrow, and here I am in my room drawing dirty pictures of my best friend’s older brother! What have I become?
But I just can’t help myself because Dane is SO hot. He’s muscular, ripped, tatted and everything that a woman would want.
Nonetheless, I have to be careful. Cautiously, I put the journal into my beach bag, and then stash the entire thing beneath the bed, making sure it doesn’t peek out. I’m going to need to be incredibly careful with this diary if I’m going to keep indulging in my fantasies in this way. How embarrassing would it be if someone found my drawings?
But then, I plop down on my bed and sigh. Drawings are one thing, but real life another entirely. As I lean back, the air exits my chest and a pleasurable longing settles into my pelvis again. What would it be like with Dane? Does he actually look like that, the way I’ve envisioned? I’d love to know, but unfortunately, I’ll never get the opportunity.
4
Zoe
I’m standing outside of my car in front of Patty’s house. Today is the Restons’ annual Fourth of July bash, and the party’s already started, judging from the cacophony of voices, music, and splashing coming from the back. I’ve attended every year since I can remember, and it’s always an absolute blast. But this year is a little bit different because this year’s party could be my opportunity to get closer to Dane.
I know, I know. It’s a silly thought really. He’s so much older. He’s sophisticated, mature, gorgeous, and also my best friend’s brother. Even worse, he’s never even noticed me, and is unlikely to do so this year either. But the heart wants what it wants, right?
In years past, I would throw my hair up in a messy bun, slip a t-shirt over my swimsuit, and call it a day. But today, I took a bit more care while getting ready and it’s all because of Dane. Even if this is totally futile, I still want to try.
Over my new white bikini, I have on a red cover up. It is casual yet subtly sexy too. It’s a plain, flowy silk caftan with a plunging neckline that’s open beneath my arms. The red looks sexy on me, especially with the line of the white bikini top peeking out along my breast line.
I have on minimal, natural makeup, making sure to skip the eye shadow to prevent smears in the pool. My hair is tied in a loose braid draped over my right shoulder, just the way I see in magazines sometimes. Of course, I’m not wearing heels. I’ve seen girls on reality TV shows do that, but it’s too hoochie. I still have my flat sandals on, even if these are the ones with a gold buckle instead of my usual plastic flip flops.
I take a deep breath and make my way to the backyard but before I can even clear the corner of the house Patty has spotted me and is running my way.
“Zooeeeeee!” she squeals loudly, evidently already in full party mode. “You’re here! Ugh, what took you so long?! Never mind, I’m just so happy you’re here now.”
She steps back and looks me up and down.
“Goddamn! So that explains the hold up. You look so sexy, girl. What’s the occasion? Is there someone here you’re trying to meet?” she asks boldly. I almost choke, my face flushing red.
“No, no of course not,” I say lightly, trying to look casual. “The occasion is the party, duh.” I say with feigned confidence. “I’m so tired of always looking blah, so I wanted to party it up some.”
Fortunately, Patty buys it. She nods and beams, taking my hand.
“Well you look great! Now come on, rip the silky cover-up off because it’s time to go swimming! We set up these sprinklers and jets that are sooo cool.”
“Um, Patty, I just got here?” I ask. “Can I put my stuff down somewhere?”
But my friend’s already speeding to the pool. I follow in her wake, and try to scan the party subtly while we enter the backyard. Before me lies a lush green lawn and a blue-stone tile patio. Flags and balloons in the colors of red, white, and blue flutter on stakes scattered throughout the crowd, and there are multiple tables holding all sorts of snacks, including bowls of chips and trays of brightly colored fruit. Coolers filled to the brim with beer and soda edge the tables like bookends. Half the crowd is in patriotic attire, the other half running wild in bathing suits. This split, surprisingly, is not defined by age. The adults and the teenagers merge seamlessly in the shenanigans before me, everyone having fun and making merry. The Restons’ parties are always the best.
I make my way to a lounger by the pool, trying to be unobtrusive, although I feel like I stand out like a fire hydrant in my red coverup. I set my bag on the chair, and kick off my shoes, when then, I see him. Standing across the way under a gazebo is Dane. He’s with a group of his father’s friends, but he looks like a god among mere mortals. The handsome man is wearing swim trunks and a white, slim-fit t-shirt, dwarfing the older men as they laugh with beers in their hands. I can’t help but smile at the red, white, and blue beads strung around Dane’s neck. His hair is wet and sleek on his head, so he probably just got out of the pool. Come to think of it, his shirt is still damp too, and clinging to his muscular bod. It is almost unfair how good he looks today.
“Zoe, get in! The water soooo nice,” Patty shrieks at me. I turn my attention to the pool, which is a large and shaped like a Figure 8. There’s a lot of foliage growing around it, obscuring some parts of the water.
Patty is floating on the waves on her back, her arms and legs spread wide forming the shape of an X. I laugh and pull off my dress, still a
little hesitant about showing my curves. Well, I wore this bikini for a reason, so I might as well show it off. But then, right when I’m about to turn to the pool, I feel a set of eyes on me. The gaze is hot, and sure enough, when I look towards the gazebo, it’s Dane.
But he’s not just staring at me. He’s looking at my curves like he could devour them. Those blue eyes are ravenous, and his gaze slides down my body, up again, and then back down before settling on the vee between my thighs.
I feel my cheeks turn hot and sense an immediate need to douse myself in the cool pool water. My hands fumble, and I try to slip my dress inside my bag but clumsily knock it over instead. Drat.
Hastily, I make an executive decision to leave the upended bag on the ground beside the chair. If I bend over to pick it up, I’ll be giving Dane an eyeful of my ass, and I’m not ready for that yet. Instead, I plaster a smile on my face and slip into the pool, grateful for the covering of water. Of course, immediately Patty jumps on me, and we go down in a mess of splashing and limbs. When I surface, I look back over in Dane’s direction but he’s not looking at me at all. Instead, he’s talking with an older man beside him like nothing ever happened. Oh my god, was that all my imagination?
But then, the man strolls away and I watch from the corner of my eye to see what Dane’s going to do next. The air escapes my lungs as the handsome man sets down his drink and pulls off his shirt, revealing his tattoos, even more brilliant and beautiful under the summer sun. But Dane doesn’t join us in the pool, oh no. Instead, he takes a big pair of shiny metal tongs from his dad and replaces him behind the grill. He looks like he knows what he’s doing, carefully eyeing the meats and prodding at them. Sweat slicks his chest and I watch, mesmerized, as a bead snakes down one pec before trailing towards his abs.
Then, my lungs fill with cold water as I’m dunked. I come up with a sputter, trying to wipe the water from my nose.
“Sorry, we thought we lost you there for a minute,” laughs Patty, who’s not at all sorry. “You were blankly, yet oh so very intently, staring out into the abyss. What are you looking at anyways?” she jokes while shading her eyes with her hand and peering over towards the grill. “There’s nothing to see, girlfriend, but some old people drinking beer.”
I almost choke again because Dane’s standing right there in all his glory, yet Patty can’t see because he’s brother. Instead, I just blush again and splash some water at my friend.
“It’s nothing,” I say before dog-padding towards the deep end. “Bet you can’t catch me!”
We both giggle as we try to get to the other side of the pool as soon as possible, but I’m grateful for the distraction because if Patty knew what I was thinking about her brother, she might never speak to me again.
5
Zoe
Fortunately, nothing crazy happened at the Restons’ party. Now, I’m back home, exhausted, sun-struck, and still kind of amped up. I didn’t even talk to Dane, and yet my body feels like a live wire because he was there.
Now though, I can relax. I am sitting on the backyard patio with my parents. Three lounge chairs with large cushy bottoms encircle a small table, and the table has an electric fire pit built in the center. Tonight, the flames sway steadily above the surface, their reflections dancing in the stone bed that holds them.
There are still a few random bursts of fireworks, but otherwise, the world seems to be utterly at peace. Besides the crackling of the fire, it’s primarily the singing of the crickets that fills the air tonight.
We break the silence with our stories from today. Mine are of the Restons’ party and theirs of my Uncle Jimmy’s gathering. It seems we have all had eventful days.
“And then, your dad walked by and pushed your Uncle Jimmy right in the pool! Oh, what a kick it was to see my big brother like that! His arms were flailing above his head, a preposterous expression on his face. And then splash!” June bends over, laughing as she relives this moment.
“Hey, he had it coming,” my dad defends himself. “He plopped that piece of cake right into my face! I got frosting in my beard.”
I laugh at their stories. My family members are all silly children at heart and our parties are always a great time. I’m a little bummed I missed this one, but it was worth it to go to the Restons’ pool party instead. Not only did I get to see Dane, but I had a really good time too.
“I’m glad we had a great time at our respective parties, but I’m glad we got to spend time together too,” I say to my parents while getting up from my lounge chair. “But now, I’m exhausted. I am going to head to bed. Good night, everyone.”
“Okay sweetie, I’m glad you had fun today,” says my dad, sipping from his glass of homemade sweet tea.
“Goodnight Zoe!” my mom says as I make my way to the back door. “Sleep tight, honey. Don’t let the bed bugs bite!”
I wave at them over my shoulder and then plod up the stairs like a tired elephant. I’m exhausted, but I’m also impatient to write about seeing Dane today. We didn’t really talk at the party, but I do want to record my thoughts and think back to the heated stare he gave me when I took off my cover-up. That was not my imagination, right?
Oh, tonight’s journal is going to be so good. Maybe I’ll even do some more sketches of him. That was really fun last time.
I head into my room with Cocoa by my side and shut the door behind me. I change into a big t-shirt and pajama shorts and get to setting the mood. Chill music, check. Lights dimmed, check. Candles burning, check.
Then, I open my bedside drawer to get my diary. No check.
What? Where is it? I’m momentarily shocked when it isn’t there, but I remember that the last time I wrote in it was when my mom barged in asking about baking cookies. In a panic, I shoved it in the bag under my bed.
Clambering out of bed, I peer beneath the mattres. No bag. Strange. Oh wait. I took that bag to the party today with a spare change of clothes. I forgot the journal was even there, and just stuffed all my clothes, my sunblock, my hat and towel on top of it. No biggie. I spy the bag sitting on my desk chair and plop back onto my mattress. I begin digging through my belongings inside in search of my diary.
But where is it? Dozens of items fly out, including an old chapstick, a bottle of water, and a bunch of crumpled clothes. With horror, I paw again inside the bag, frantically looking for my diary.
Oh my god. Why isn’t it in my bag? I am one hundred percent sure that this is the bag I put it in!
Desperately, I dump the bag over on the floor to be certain I am not just missing it somehow. But nope, among all the scrambled contents, it is not here.
Then, I double check beneath the bed because maybe it fell out when I pulled the bag out from under the bed this morning, but nothing but empty space stares at me. I start to panic. I know for a fact I put it in my bag, but where could it be? Am I losing my mind?
I check everywhere: underneath pillows, on my bookshelves, and in my closet. I even crawl into to the secret nook in the back of my closet to see if I hid it there during a sudden amnesia episode.
To my dismay, I have no luck locating the diary in my room. I start retracing my steps in my mind to see where it could be. But I already know the answer in my gut. It’s not here, which means the only place it could be is Patty’s house. It must have fallen out when my bag tumbled to the ground, and I didn’t notice. Shit.
Normally, this wouldn’t be a big issue. I mean, let’s face it: journals generally aren’t that interesting because most people have boring lives. But the problem is that my journal will be very interesting to the Restons because the last entry is a sketch of Dane Reston masturbating! What if someone opens the journal and finds those drawings? Then what? What if it’s Patty, or her mom and dad? Or even worse, what if Dane himself sees it?
Oh my god, I’m going to die. If Dane sees how I’ve pictured his masculinity, including his torso and the rock-hard club between his thighs, he’s going to laugh so hard that he pees himself. Then, he’ll confront me and I�
�ll be humiliated for life. Oh shit. I have got to get that journal back ASAP!
I want more than anything to hop in my car and drive over to the Restons’ place right now before pounding on their door. But I could never explain the sudden necessity to have my diary back in the middle of the night, so I sit on my bed, befuddled. What should I do?
As much as I hate it, this will have to be a mission for tomorrow. I curl up on my bed with Cocoa in my arms, terrified at the questions ceaselessly running through my mind.
Has anyone seen my dirty Dane doodlings yet? And what if the person to see them is Dane himself? What next?
My dog has no idea what’s going on, but she licks my cheek comfortingly. I hug Cocoa tighter, fearful yet titillated at my task tomorrow.
6
Dane
I’m having two of my friends over today for a Day-After-Independence-Day get together. It’s an offering of sorts because Jake and Zack wanted me to go to Marty Martial’s kegger, but I decided to chill at my parents’ party instead. I tried to convince my friends to come over first and then hit Marty’s bash later, but they rejected the idea, saying they would feel the need to be on their best behavior.
I get it. We’re twenty-something guys, so we don’t need or want our parents around. Plus, Marty’s Fourth of July bash is always a riot. He’s got an enormous beach house right on the shore of the lake. There’s nothing and no one around for miles, leading to shenanigans and massive fireworks explosions. It’s almost as if the place was built for hosting parties.