Some people's diaries are a record of their innermost thoughts. An account of their feelings, their ambitions, their worries and their happiness. Othe...s are a more objective account of events, perhaps noting people and places. Amy didn't even bother with names. Even initials were suspect. After all, she couldn't expect to know the name of everyone she'd had sex with. Her diary entries were brief and to the point. She would mention gender, number and any especially pertinent feature of the. She took out his penis and swallowed it with her mouth. He was not yet fully erect, but Sharon attacked it with all the vigor she could muster."Please, please, please, let me make you happy," she wanted to cry out. Instead, she concentrated on the task at hand, growing in confidence that the routine of the morning blowjob was still intact.Then David stopped her."On the bed, on your knees."This time, there was no hesitation from Sharon. She scrambled to the bed, got on her knees and stuck her. Right now, while we're walking."He laid another stripe form the whip in the other direction and she burned, her face burning with shame, her thighs burning with the fire of he whip and her shoulders tensing and hurting, a band of agony she had almost allowed to slip form her mind.The stream of acrid-smelling urine which ran slowly down the inside of her right thigh felt more like blood and shame than relief, and as she walked, the addition of the smell of her own piss mixed with that of her. In the movies, we were sitting down in front. He asked me why I did it. I couldn't tell him. I told him it felt good. So good."You still have them on don't you?" He asked looking at me up and down."Well, you didn't give much time to change did you?" I replied."Can I feel?" and before I could say a word he felt my breast through my bra. "Cool, it's okay, I won't tell. You can to it around me, just no dresses, okay?" Deal." I said, and nothing else was said.The only time he brought it up, we were.