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and two weeks ago, his dispatcher sent him to pick up your stolen car from the ditch it was abandoned in. After he winched your car out of the muck, he found your laptop computer underneath. It was all scratched up and covered in mud, so Brad threw it into his trucks cab for safekeeping. He dropped your car off at the Police compound, but completely forgot about the computer. Friday came and when he cleaned out the truck for the weekend driver, he found your poor computer under the front seat. Brad thought it was wrecked for sure, figured youd get a new one from the insurance company and brought it home. While he was packing our van to go to the cottage, I cleaned the caked mud off your computer with a toothbrush and vacuumed out all the dust. I pushed the power-on button and miraculously "Windows 98" lit up the screen. Brad suggested I bring it along to give my sister-in-law Amy and I something to amuse ourselves with while he and Tim were out fishing. On the way up to Kaladar, I plugged it into the lighter and checked through all the programs and files that were in it. I asked Amy what the "DDD" I noticed in My Documents might be. She thought it might be something private and told me not to mess with it. I clicked on it anyway and up came this file called "Dear Dirty Diary". I scanned through the first three paragraphs, exited it immediately and shut down the computer. Amy asked me if I was bored with it already. Blushing like crazy, I lied and told her I couldnt read a jiggling computer on such a rough road. Bright and early Saturday morning, the guys were off down the lake. It was a cool spring day so Amy lit the fireplace to get all cozy. Since the men would probably be hunting most of the day, we decided to be sloppy and lazy. Nightgowns and slippers were to be the dress code for the day and spoiling ourselves lavishly was to be our only concern. As we sipped our morning coffee, I casually told Amy about the story of yours I found last night. I told her it sounded really personal, sort of like a sexy diary. Showing her usual amount of regard for others privacy, she immediately insisted that we read it. I clicked on your file once more and began to read your words aloud. Amys impatience was soon rewarded with the details of your attempted affair with Johnston. I blushed from head to toe when I read aloud about your peculiar little pastimes after your husband ignored you on New Years Day. When I recited your first encounter with Louise, Amy gave me the silliest look of disbelief you could ever imagine. At that point, she took control of the computer and took her turn at vocalizing your memoirs. I prepared us an emergency ration of chocolate treats to

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enhance our understanding of your stories but my God, Laura; I was completely unprepared for your frankness. We took turns reading from your diary as the morning crept on. We were so surprised by your words that we completely ignored everything around us. Amy would raise her eyebrows and give me a goofy look of astonishment whenever you described each new sexual thrill. Her mouth dropped open and her eyebrows arched at your feeding Doug vegetables that youd been playing around with. I found that hearing myself utter your words brought out a side of me that I was unfamiliar with. The naive little girl inside of me listened to and learned from each line of your diary. By the time the final paragraph was read, our remaining innocence was lost. We sat in silence for a few moments to absorb fully what you had written. I told Amy we must get your computer back to you some how. It just wasnt right to steal and covet the most personal thoughts of another person. We agreed to have Brad make up some story, hand it in and have the police return your computer to you first thing Monday. I feel this written apology from us is in order for our invasion of your privacy. I began writing you and Amy decided to freshen herself up. When Amy returned from her shower, she was still wearing her bathrobe. She sat down on the sofa, then clipped and filed her toenails most carefully. Then she went to her room and returned with a big round hand mirror. As I typed away, she sat on the edge of the couch, then flipped open the lower half of her robe. She spread her legs, then held the mirror down between her thighs and began to study her bared genitals. After a few moments of close scrutiny, she wondered out loud if a hairless pussy might be fun for a while. I told her that Tim would just freak. She disagreed and suggested that her husband might just be tickled pink with a bald pussy. She swung around and flopped one leg up over the arm of the sofa. Amy lay back down on the cushions and looked over at me. She pulled a little electric shaver out of her pocket, held it out toward me and told me to get over there and shave her crotch. Amy is such a tart but this was going well beyond anything shed done to me before. I ignored her but she kept at me about it. When she pointed out it wouldnt be much different than shaving legs or underarms, I reluctantly agreed. I kneeled down at the end of the couch and ever so carefully nipped away every last hair surrounding her pussy. I felt a little uncomfortable when I had to flip the folds of her labia back and forth so I could shave in closely. I felt a lot more uncomfortable when I noticed how wet and