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The Diaries, Part 1Alison grew up west of the Range, among sheep, wheat and summer dust storms. She learned to drive tractors and to repair dam pumps on the farm and everything else in the small school.Each Christmas holiday her brother, her mother and she drove out the farm gate towards the rising red sun. f******n or fifteen hours later they turned into the jungle garden of her grandmother’s rambling white weatherboard house overlooking the bay and, beyond, the ocean. Already Alison’s grandfather had died and her grandmother lived alone in the book lined building.Later Alison shifted east for University. She moved into the big room opening onto her grandmother’s porch then the humus slicked path around the side of the house and down to the pebbly beach. She met and learned to love her grandfather’s many brothers as they visited and stayed in the third bedroom. She wondered that she could feel closer to her mother’s mother than her mother herself. She discovered her grandparents had been doyens of the Uni’s anthropology department. She accepted that some nights the old woman visited elsewhere. In time she moved out and on with her own life but visited often, sometimes staying over in the spare room herself. When visits and occasional help were no longer enough she drove her grandmother about retirement villages and helped her sort and pack. She knew her grandfather had kept diaries through his life. ‘He was a big writer,’ her grandmother said, ‘It was how he ordered his thoughts. I was the pictorial one. He kept the lists and notes and appointments and budgets.’ The heavy leather-bound konya escort journals, the University’s crest stamped on their covers, now lived on the bottom two shelves in her grandmother’s hall cupboard. Before the old man had belonged to the past. Now Alison wanted to know him. She pulled out a volume at random and let it open where it wanted. The pages were thick, three or four times as thick as typing paper, and pale, pale blue. Sequential numbers were stamped in the top outside corners. The writing was tight and regular.’Aug, 13.’Well, yesterday we did it. Beth wore white and damn the gossip and bad luck. She said she would wear nothing beneath and dared us all to go bareback as well. Her gown was of some burnished silken cloth that followed the curves of her shoulders, chest and hips before falling to the ground. The sleeves clung to her arms until they ended at the middle of her forearms.’There was a sketch, only three lines high, on the right side of the page. It might have been a doodle as he had composed the next paragraph. It was smudged and the script continued at its side.’As she walked up the aisle towards me and Dick, beside me, the cloth outlined her muscled thighs. Her pace was uncharacteristically slow. Watching her I thought of our rambles through the countryside and over diggings. I thought, too, of the picture her swaying haunches must have made behind her and was jealous of the others sitting on the pews. I was even jealous of the fabric sliding across her milk skin and over the mole at the head of the fold of her arse.’By the time she stood beside escort konya me I was sure we were making a mistake. None the less, I said ‘I do’ (weakness of character, I guess) and so did she. ‘I had taken up her dare. The seam of my trousers split my balls and the head of my prick chafed against the bias of the fly. I hardened to just the softness of her voice. I recited to myself the periodic table and prayed my tumescence wouldn’t be apparent when we turned to walk down the aisle.’There was confusion outside the church. Smiles and handshakes and kisses and photographs. Then we were alone in the back of the car and on our way to the hotel. Beth grabbed as my groin and pressed her face to mine. Make up smudged both our faces. She chortled and I was just relieved to be at the end of it. Past her ear, in the rear vision mirror, Fred was grinning. ‘Richard and the other brothers were already in the room when I opened the door. ‘Carry her across the threshold,’ they clamoured and I started to say that was for our new home when Beth just grabbed my hand and pulled me into their midst. Fred followed us, closing the door.’Beth was on her knees before me. Her fingers were at my buttons then she had my cock free. She closed her mouth around me and, hands against my buttocks, forced me close to herself. Her sharp pixie nose pressed hard into my belly.’The brothers were at their own trousers, undoing buttons, extracting pricks — flaccid, semi-rigid, erect. ‘How, I wonder, can this work? Beth and I are now wife and husband — that seems the . . .’The word ‘natural’ was struck out konya escort bayan as was ‘inevitable’ after it.’. . . progression for us — but neither of us wants to leave our times with the others.’It seemed that Alison’s grandfather had paused to compose the next section or to remember what had happened between his new wife, his brothers and himself. There was an uneven line of doodled scrolls before — ‘Possession seems part of matrimony in all cultures. I wonder if I am up to not owning my own Beth but if I do that must change her. ‘When she had me hard Beth leant away from me and pulled the bodice of her dress wide. The tiny balled buttons ricocheted about the room, clattering against the furnishings and onto the floor. Her pink breasts jutted proud before me. With the fingers of both her hands knitted around my erection she pulled at me. Almost before she had started I creamed onto her bosom.’The others were crowded about us working themselves. She kept a hold of me as I softened. I felt that I had failed her. Fred came next, shooting into Beth’s hair. Paul was after him. I took her head in my hands and rubbed their seed through her hair. Richard’s ejaculation landed across the back of my hand and across my wedding ring.’I was hardening. Beth kissed my cock’s eye then worked me again. I massaged her hair into sticky peaks and the others spent themselves in streaks over her wedding gown. Beth held her mouth open before me. I climaxed onto her tongue and she collapsed against my legs.’The brothers arrived at the reception downstairs well before us. Beth showered quickly and I sponged. Then we went down ourselves, for the food, speeches and dancing.’The rest of the page, about 3 inches, was taken up with a sketched heart. Its interior was delicately filled out with an impression of the folds within a vulva.
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