But I had to know! I just had to know!Wednesday was the day that Bev and he co-workers always stopped. They got off work at 5 o'clock so at ten to fiv... I was sitting in my dark corner waiting for Bev and her group to arrive. The night went pretty much as Bev had always described it. I say pretty much because she left out a few things when she told me what she did. Like the fact that some guys got their hands inside her blouse, some guys slid their hands down the inside of the front of her skirt. Furthermore, with their delivery of the package to its rightful owner, the firm's obligation to any involved party was now ended.The letter raised far more questions than it answered. Who wrote the diary and when? Who donated it to the museum and how were they related to me? What museum would not want an original document from probably the 19th century, and how could a diary possibly be 'inappropriate for either display or study'?The best place to start answering these questions it seemed was. I went to the clinic and checked in for my appointment. I had prepared myself to be interviewed by someone who might be cold and judgemental, or at least clinical. Instead, the petite blonde nurse who did my questionnaire was so friendly, so enthusiastic. She couldn't have been older than 24. Her eyes sparkled as she told me about the possibilities, and her smile was so disarming. The clinic certainly did a brilliant job getting her to brief clients for this procedure: it must practically have. I’d never experienced anything like it. I had to see your face. You rolled me over onto my back and kissed me like a real lover. You held your face close to mine, smiling that wickedly handsome smile with two fingers rubbing my clit furiously but methodically. I could not contain myself. You could tell and kept your gaze on me. The pressure inside was building again, my back arched, my insides clenched, I screamed, I was squirting again on to your hand and uncontrollable pleasure and orgasms.