The Wet Diary (part 1)

Hello new Diary, My name is Bianca. My formal diary knows a lot I have been aching to tell this to someone. So…. This all happened when I was a senior in high school. I had just celebrated my eighteenth birthday a couple of months before, and I had three goals in my life back then. First, was to get out of the house and be on my own; second, I wanted to get lined up in a college program; and third, was to lose my virginity, not necessarily in that order.

I was still living at home with my mom and her new live-in boyfriend, Uncle Xander. He was such a fucking pervert. I just had to get the hell out of there. Uncle Xander was one of those cocky types, a real know-it-all. He had graying hair but secretly dyed it late at night, thinking no one would notice. He had terrible "smoker’s breath." I guess at least I should have been thankful he didn’t chew and spit. Uncle Xander really thought he was a real lady killer, too. He was the main reason I had to get out on my own. He was such a loser, and Mom just didn’t see that yet. I doubted that he really even loved my mom. He just saw a better situation than he had before and horned his way into our lives.

Truly, I was not jealous, in case that is what you’re thinking, because I really wanted Mom to be happy, but this guy was no good, and she would eventually find that out. I had already figured it out, but then again, I wasn’t a desperate, overweight, middle-aged woman.

When I say Uncle Xander was a pervert, I know what I’m talking about. I had gotten up a couple times late at night and secretly caught him out in our living room on Mom’s computer looking at porn. Mom always went to bed early because she had to get up early for work. This douchebag was laying on our couch playing with his cock while the rest of us had to get up early the next day.

The main reason I needed to get out of there was because I knew he was thinking he was going to have a shot at fucking me, and I wasn’t just being paranoid either. Uncle Xander pretended to act all lovey-dovey towards Mom, but I would get a weird feeling when she wasn’t around.

Look, I know I wasn’t exactly cheerleader material. I was kind of a skinny kid back then, and being the only redhead in the entire fucking school, yeah, I stood out some, but I could still make a pair of Levis snap. I had the full-body freckle thing going on and pale skin to boot. I was only really happy with one part of my body, and that was my crystal-blue eyes. But my hair was all anyone ever noticed about me—carrot top, red, ginger—oh yeah, I heard it all. Uncle Xander got to calling me "burning bush." I knew what he meant, and I threatened to cut him if he ever called me that again.

I knew then for sure that Uncle Xander had been fantasizing about fucking me. I wasn’t about to let that happen. I had not said anything about any of this to Mom yet because I didn’t want to be the one to break her heart. I kind of figured it would only be a matter of time before she would catch on to the scumbag and throw him out herself. I really loved my mom a lot, but since Dad left, Mom never seemed to come across any decent men. I really didn’t feel like there were any men around that a girl like me could look up to either. Guys my age were so immature, and they came and went. Any grown men Mom seemed to attract were full of problems, Uncle Xander being the worst so far.

The one bright spot in my social life revolved around a man I knew at school. During my junior year, I joined a committee to do the decorations and set-up for the dances and other events. This often required me to get with the school janitor, Mr. Cleff, to see about ladders and borrow tools and such. Mr. Cleff was really nice to me, and we would often chat a little before and after I borrowed something. Our small town was rather hick, and he really stood out, being Hispanic and all. He was probably in his late 30s, short but stocky. He had the most piercing black eyes. He was always smiling and willing to help me whenever I needed something. I found out by talking with him that he was in this country on a work permit. He was hoping to someday send for his wife and two children. Until then, they remained in some little town in Mexico.

Most students didn’t pay any attention to him. He was really quiet and polite and kept to himself unless you started the conversation. Mr. Cleff spoke in very broken English, but a quick smile would always come across his face when he spoke to you. He was always so cheery. Each and every day was a wonderful thing to him. Given his situation and separation from his family, I found him to be simply inspiring.

I liked seeing Mr Cleff and would go out of my way just to greet him in the hallway at least some time during the day. He was not like the rest of the staff at the school. The teachers were all stuck on themselves, and the administration staff was even worse. They were trying to run a strict place, and they kept their distance from the students. Mr Cleff wasn’t one of them, and they had little to do with him either.

Over the summer between my junior and senior years, I had broken up with my boyfriend. Boys at that age were so stupid. It wasn’t over the sex or anything like that; he just spent more time with his friends than with.me. Besides, he wasn’t going anywhere. He was a local farm boy and would spend his life there. I wanted to get out like most of the girls and experience the rest of the world.

I had at least a new boyfriend every year or so since I started dating. Even though I was technically still a virgin, I wasn’t against giving a guy a good time. Small town living doesn’t leave much to do outside of school and sports. I had spent many Fridays and Saturday evenings at the old quarry just outside of town. Everyone went there to swim, party and make out. No telling how many girls got pregnant there over the years. That is how our small town still survived.

The farm boys would get some girl pregnant, and she was stuck. Eventually they would get married, she would stay and become a farmer’s wife, and the cycle would repeat itself. That was not the life I wanted. But I wasn’t against sucking a guy’s cock. I had more than my share by my senior year, but no one was ever going to stick an unprotected cock into me. Condoms were something you had to get from the next town over. Here, everyone knew everybody and all their business. There were only a couple places in town to buy something like that, and you could count on someone telling on you. I figured if the guy wasn’t carrying one, he wasn’t sticking it in me. I wasn’t about to get pregnant by any local kid and end up stuck here all my life.

You know, I probably would have lost my virginity with any number of guys had they come prepared. Really, guys, what the fuck is the matter with you all?