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I’d long scared away Mrs. Wilson with the noise and she had gone inside. Kicking my shoes off I stepped onto the hardwood floor. I’d been in the house plenty of times. “Mrs. Wilson,” I called out, “I’m done.” I got no response. The back door led directly into the kitchen. She was not there nor in the living room or dinning room. I wasn’t about to go up stairs until she called out. “Jeff. I’m upstairs you can come up.” Still breathing hard and in the back of my mind thinking I needed a self propelled lawn mower I mounted the stairs and came to her door. Was I naïve? No. I reasoned she’d be still in her bikini though and even as I moaned my thoughts occasionally drifted to her form. I was after all a fifteen year old adolescent male with raging hormones. I reached the doorway to her bedroom. She was backing me, bent over on the floor, her ass up the bikini bottom flossing her ass while she searched for something. “Are you okay Mrs. Wilson?” “Something rolled under the bed Jeff. Can you. Thus, the diary. Forgive me, honey. And I love you. Always. Winter, Your loving wife.12th August 2015Dear husband, Today is our wedding day. I was so excited about it. Everything goes according to the plan. You and I decided to do the ceremony at the beach instead of a normal church. The setup are all done after dawn, the caterers are setting things up and I was there, sitting in front of the mirror in my hotel room. Complete with my wedding dress. I look at my watch on the table, 1 hour to go. 45 minutes before my bridesmaid or my friends come back and do some touch ups. After helping me out with the wedding dress, all of my friends went off preparing themselves. I blushed alone, imagining my life will change after this that I will be marrying you. At this point we have known each other for 3 years. You have always been charming, kind, and dare I say, good in bed. I stand up and again see myself in the dress, making sure everything is perfect. My blonde hair waves on my back, with.
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