Chapter 1

As unbelievable as this may seem, the things that I am about to reveal in this story are completely true. I know since they all happened to me when I made a discovery one day. Even in my wildest dream I never would have imagined that all of this could be possible. Worst still, how could it be happening to me?

I am married and I have two children, both are girls. But the events that I am about to tell you began a long time before I was married to my wife Michelle. In fact, when it all began I didn't even know her.

Michelle and I are now living in the small town where we were both raised. But we didn't always live there. We were married while I was still attending college in Boston and we went to live there for two years. After I graduated as a chemical engineer, on Michelle insistence, we moved back to the small town were we had both lived all of our lives. I have a good job there. I work at the local pulp and paper company in the research lab where I try to find new applications for the cellulose products that the mill is making out of wood chips. I have always been working there since. Three years after we were married, or a year after moving into our native town, Michelle gave birth to the first of our two daughters.

But the events that initiated this story occurred because of the fact that we went to live in Boston for two years. I know what most of you are thinking. You are probably anticipating me by imagining that Michelle had an affair while we lived in Boston. No she didn't, we were too much involved with each other's then, we were and still are much in love with one another.

The events that I am referring about began to unfold a couple of years after we had moved back to our native town of Elms Valley, at least that is when I began to be aware of them.

When we went to live in Boston as husband and wife, Michelle brought with her all of her personal belongings as well as her clothing and the few pieces of furniture that had been given to us by our families.

Among her luggage she had an old leather trunk that her grandmother had given her. It was quite big and heavy and it had many compartments inside that could be used not only to store clothing but also personnel effects. But more important of all, there was a hidden compartment that had been built into the lid and if one didn't know about its existence, it was quite impossible to detect. As a matter of fact I wasn't aware of it then.

My wife Michelle, without my knowing anything about this secret compartment or its content, had hidden inside four diaries of hers. She began writing in her first diary when she was eleven. Everything she did and even her most secret thoughts were written in it under the appropriate date. Michelle loved to write and she is good at it. I knew that long before we were married she had been writing in her diaries, but when we moved to Boston I figured that she had left all of them at her parents' house.

Of course there had been no discussion about them since I respected her too much to ask her about such personal things as her diaries. But I knew that she was still writing in one since I often saw her sitting in our room in front of the small dresser as she wrote down the day's events. I even knew where she kept it under lock in a drawer of her dresser. It would never have occurred to me to even think of spying on her by reading into her private diary. As soon as I got my job in Elms Valley, we moved away from Boston and back to our roots.

I would have preferred to work in a larger city but it seemed so important to Michelle that we went to live there that I finally agreed to take a job in Elms Valley and try it for a few years at least.

When we moved our belonging - we now had much more things than when we had moved into Boston - I rented a truck and we packed everything in it. While Michelle drove our car, I followed her in the truck for the two hundreds miles drive to Elms Valley. Mostly on her insistence also, we had rented a large house there just a few houses away from where she had lived all of her life with her family. Since the house was not very far from the my work I had agreed to try and live there a year or so.

Then on moving day, as I was unloading Michelle's old trunk from the truck it felt off. Being made of wood covered with leather, the wooden frame underneath the leather broke and the trunk simply collapsed at an odd angle.

I knew that Michelle valued her trunk greatly since it had been given to her by her grandmother and I felt really bad about it being broken. Therefore, while she was busy washing and storing the fancy glassware and the dishes in the kitchen, I removed everything from the trunk. Of course her four diaries still remained hidden in the lid since at the time I was ignorant of the existence of the compartment in which they were hidden. Once the trunk was empty of its content, I hurriedly hid it in the large garage at the back of the house. It was my intention to have it repairs as soon as possible and not even tell her about this accident.

For the next couple of months Michelle didn't notice that her trunk was missing, as for myself, I simply forgot about it and soon I couldn't even remember where I had stored it.

When Michelle did realized that her trunk was missing, she almost went into a fit.

Never before had I seen her in such a state of despair. All this commotion for this old trunk I told myself and I couldn't understand why she was making such a fuss about the lost of this old thing. By then the only thing that I could recall was the fact that it had felt off the truck and the inside wooden frame had broken. I no longer remembered placing it in the garage and since I seldom went there, it remained hidden there. I figured that I had probably left it outside next to the curb and since they were picking up the trash on that day, the garbage disposal team must have thought that it had been placed there intentionally and it had probably been thrown into the truck with the rest of the garbage. When I finally admitted to Michelle that it had felt off the truck and that it had been picked up with the garbage, she once again began to cry and she remained depress for a whole week after that. Again I couldn't see why the lost of an old thing such as that trunk would have such an effect on her.

Gradually though she did get over the trunk incident and two years went by. Michelle was at the time and still is an extremely passionate woman. When I married her she was one of the most beautiful girls in Elms Valley; even today she is still the most beautiful woman there.

But I must mention before going further that she is not the petite kind of woman. Michelle is tall and as a teen she was the athletic type. >From the pictures that were taken when she was young I could tell that even then she had long plumb thighs and her buttocks being high and very round gave her the appearance of being older than she really was. She now has very voluminous breasts with large hips and a small waist, even in her youth her breasts were much larger that the average girls of eleven or twelve. When we first went out together, she would wear her light brown hair in a ponytail, but later she cut them shoulder length and she still has them like that today.

To return to the trunk, it was soon after both of our daughters had been borne that I discovered that during those two previous years it had been resting in the garage. By then we had bought the house we were living in.

One day, I hired a contractor to put new shingles on the roof of the garage and also to pour a cement floor so that we could place our cars in it. When I returned from work that first late afternoon after the work had begun on the garage; I went at the back of the house to see how things were going. I then noticed the battered trunk in the middle of a pile of junk that the two men working there had taken out of the garage so as to prepare the floor to receive the cement. When I opened the lid, my wife diaries felt into my hands. The secret panel inside the lid had finally broken open. It then occurred to me why my wife had been so attached to the old trunk, her diaries were inside and she had been crying over the lost of them and not because she had lost the old trunk.

It was evident that they were her diaries, since her name was of each of them. Each was secured by a small lock as many diaries are. The first two were identical while the other two had been bought much later and they were a little larger and also thicker.

After examining them for a few seconds I began to walk back to the house with them so as to tell the good news to Michelle. But before I got there, it occurred to me that the fact that she had made such a fuss about the lost of her trunk, was mainly because of the fact that her diaries were hidden inside. Could it be possible, I told myself, that there could be things written in them that she didn't want anyone to know, not even me. I now had a golden opportunity to find out.

Beside I knew that if I gave her back her diaries, it might once again reawaken that old wound. Therefore, instead of getting into the house with them, I locked them inside the gloves compartment of my car. Of course I didn't say a word to Michelle about the lost and found trunk and the fact that it had been carried away in the contractor's truck with the rest of the old furniture and stuff that had remained in the garage all these years.

For the next couple of weeks I simply forgot about the four diaries in the gloves compartment of my car until I went to have the oil change. When I opened the gloves compartment so as to place the receipt of the work that had done on my car - I always kept my garage's receipts in the gloves compartment - I saw the four books there. It so happened that on that day I had brought work home for the evening, I therefore placed all of her diaries inside my briefcase and I went home with them.

After supper, while I was in my home office, I locked the door and I took her diaries out.

On the cover of each was written the date when she had begun writing in them and after a little calculation I was able to figure that the oldest one was written when she have been eleven. It took me a long time before I made up my mind to break the lock of the first one, but when I finally did I soon began to read what she had written. I was feeling a little guilty at first but after a few pages I realized that it contain mostly kid stuff and soon I no longer felt bad about it.

Everything she had done or even what she had been thinking about such and such was in there as well as the date it had happened on the top of each page. On some of the pages there were even a few pictures of her when she was eleven.

I could tell that the further I read, the more proof I was discovering that she wasn't then the timid girl I always thought her to be. Furthermore, as I kept reading about my wife pre-teens years, it surprised me to discover the things she had done. She wrote about spying on her brother while he was taking his bath and she also wrote about her purposely teasing boys at school by exposing herself more than she should have. It was as though the diary I was reading belongs to someone name Michelle but who was definitely not my wife. Only her handwriting and pictures of her plus the fact that she sometimes wrote about the members of her family were convincing me that Michelle had written it. By the time I was half way through the first diary it was getting late and I had to stop for fear that Michelle should come in to investigate what was taking me so long, I had been reading for almost two hours.

In the back of my mind I was now convinced that I was going to discover a side about Michelle personality that until then I hadn't even imagined existed.

All through the next day while I was at work, I kept thinking about the rest of her diary and I tried to guess what I was going to discover about the hidden childhood life of my wife. But to be able to read more about her, I needed time to be by myself without fear of being interrupted by her. I knew that it would look odd if I was to pretend that once again I had work to do on the research program I was working on since it never happened that I brought work home two nights in a row.

Instead, we went to bed early and once Michelle was sound asleep next to me, I got out of the bed in the middle of the night and I went into my office to finish reading her first diary.

When she had begun keeping a diary she had been eleven and now I had reached her birthday and she had just turned twelve. There was a picture of her glued to the page that correspond to the day she turned twelve and on it she was wearing her one piece bathing suit while on the shore of the river. She certainly didn't look like a twelve-year-old girl. Her legs were very long and while her upper things were plumb, her hips were definitely beginning to flare out. Her waist was small and I could tell that her breasts were almost those of a grown woman. In the picture with her was her friend Cathy.

She had often talked about her friend Cathy and what they did together, but now as I continued reading, she was writing more and more about her new neighbors. So far she hadn't mention his name but she did say that his wife's name was Clara, and her husband was twenty six year old and she even knew that his birthday was on October 22. From her writing it was evident that she was showing a lot of interest in him, but at the same time I knew that it was very common for a young girl or a young boy to be infatuated sometimes with an adult of the opposite sex. I kept on reading thinking very little of that fact. Then she began to mention the name of the man that fascinated her so much. She called him Sam. Again I found nothing strange there. But then, a few weeks later she wrote that Sam had given her a kiss while she had been at his home baby-sitting for his wife on a Wednesday evening. Then it suddenly hit me that she was talking about Sam Wilson who was still living in the house next to her parents.

His wife's name was Clara and they had a boy who was in his teen now. But still I had doubts, he must have been close to forty by now and I couldn't imagine Michelle even as a child having a crush on Sam.

Again the next Wednesday evening while she was baby-sitting, she wrote that while Clara was out attending her pottery classes in the basement of the local church, Sam had gotten home earlier than expected from the warehouse he owned and he had kissed Michelle again.

But this time she wrote down in capital letter that he had FRENCH KISSED her for almost half an hour before leaving the house. She went on for a full page to describe all the thrills and passions she now felt for him and I was flabbergasted as I read her description of the passionate feelings she was trying to express with written words. Did my wife written this? Again I wanted to have doubts about the owner of the diary but I had to accept the evidences since there were too many proofs of her ownership of the diary. No, it was her diary all right, but still I had difficulties believing what she had written in it. When I married her she had sworn to me that I was the only one who had ever kiss her. Liar, liar I thought, how could she had deceived me for so long?

My hands were trembling now and I was eager to know more about what else had happen between her and Sam.

Reading further, I discovered that she had even told her friend Cathy everything about her crush on Sam and she had also revealed to Cathy that he had kissed her.

But I knew Cathy Ross, she was married to Jim Maxwell and they were also living in Elms Valley, they had two children and lived on the other side of the street practically in front of Michelle's parents. Once in a while Michelle still went out shopping with Cathy and they often spent an evening together either at her place or Cathy came here to our house.

I was now very eager to see what else she had done but at the same time I also began to fear what I was about to discover concerning my wife. A six sense was telling me that if I kept on reading I was going to learn things that were going to change my whole life and for a few seconds I even debated in my mind weather I should burn those diaries instead of reading the rest of them.

But curiosity mixed with a strange and new erotic sensation, were urging me to go on. Even though I was afraid to read what was written down, I also knew that nothing on earth would prevent me from learning the truth even though I well knew that I wasn't going to like it.

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday she went to school and talked with Cathy about Sam. She told her that she was very anxious to find out what was going to happen on the following Wednesday evening, at the same time she admitted to her that she was also afraid. She even said to Cathy that for a while, on the previous Wednesday while Sam had been kissing her, for an instant she thought that he was going to feel her bosom when his hands were moving under her arms while he was holding her.

I read on faster until I came to Thursday where she wrote down the events of the previous evening.