Chapter 1

Saturday June 6

This journal is NOT about an investigation into some depraved conspiracy. I’m out; I’ve learned my lesson. After the prolonged legal battles from the Photo Club fiasco, and getting beaten half to death for poking into the Chi Omicron Faculty Brunch, it is officially my policy to stay the fuck out of everything.

So why am I writing? Well, those other journals also ended up being about my sex life, and I miss that part. I’ve just started seeing a wonderful guy, and so hopefully I’m going to have lots of great uncomplicated sex to write about. Nothing so far, but soon.

The guy’s name is Miles. We met at Fry’s Electronics two weeks ago: we were both trying to help a confused middle-aged guy who had no idea what sort of graphics card to buy. Miles has long black hair, dark eyes, kind of a wiry build, and a rogue’s smile. Clean-shaven. He doesn’t have a real job: he’s a “streamer”. For some reason, thousands of people pay to watch him play video games instead of playing them themselves. He also plays in tournaments, but he says the real money is in streaming. It’s weird and I don’t get it, but it seems to work for him.

I’ve decided to go blonde for the summer: neck length and still wavy. I thought about trying out some colored contacts - maybe a brilliant blue. I like how I look with photoshopped eyes. But contacts are too much hassle, so I’m sticking with my plain old brown eyes and glasses.

I’m writing this from a house that I’m house-sitting. It belongs to Mr. Demarco. He’s a friend of my dad’s, and he was my lawyer through the Photo Club ordeal, so I know him pretty well. I like him: he has always treated me like an adult. I suspect that the house-sitting arrangement is more a favor to me than to him, since the house doesn’t need much looking-after: feed the cat, water the plants, bring in the mail - that’s it. Maybe he knew how hard it was to go back to staying at my parents’ house after the independence of my first year at college.

Mr. Demarco’s rules were surprisingly lenient - especially for a lawyer: “No more than two friends over at a time, and nobody here when you’re not here. Oh, and Lexi: if anything should ‘evaporate’ from the liquor cabinet, that’s fine; just don’t try to fill the bottles back up with water.”

The first thing I did once I was alone in the house was strip down to my underwear, blast some Rancid on the stereo, and dance around. I know, it’s childish, but it feels so nice to be free! I mean, I’ve been alone countless times in my parents’ house, and in the dorm, but somehow here it’s different. If Miles can come over tonight, then I’m going to fuck him silly in a giant California King sized bed. Whether he comes over or not, there will be bourbon and skinny-dipping.

Sunday June 7

Mmm, boyfriends are nice.

I gussied up before Miles came over last night. This house has a wonderfully spacious shower with three nozzles, a wood floor, and a wood bench. I can honestly say it was the best time I’ve ever had shaving my legs.

We cooked up some stir-fry together, and ate it, and then watched a monster thriller on TV. We kissed and held each other during the movie, but didn’t do anything overtly sexual. I wasn’t scared, but I certainly did enjoy clinging to my guy during the intense parts.

We did, in fact, drink some bourbon during the movie, so I was feeling warm and glowy afterward when I led Miles into the back yard. Without a word, I stripped off my shirt, my skirt, my bra, and panties, and waded into to the pool. Miles just watched me, until I beckoned to him; then he stripped himself and joined my via the diving board. For the next little while we explored each others’ bodies while we goofed around.