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The HT Diaries

Category: Mature
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I was just checking my calendar for counseling sessions for the day when my neighbor George poked his head in the door of my office. True to his monthly habit, he winced and asked “you got time for some quick advice?” He always said this as he was walking in to sit down and start what would always be a free session.

About once a month George would come in to unload all of his latest concerns over his 20 year old daughter Hanna.

In addition to living next door to me, George’s office was in the same building as mine. The unloading always took place early in the morning, before I had real clients, usually took place in my office, and hopefully only took about 15 minutes, as George wasn’t one of my paying clients. George just figured that since I was a neighbor, my therapy time as a psychologist came at a 100% discount.

For some time George had been convinced that Hanna had become involved with an older man. As a single parent, he was in a constant struggle to do the right thing. Today he felt he had uncovered viable evidence of the relationship.

“I found a diary in her room,” he stammered. “The words she has written on the front of it are HT Diaries, and I’m certain that it’s a diary about Howard Thurland.”

He hesitated, for effect. “Howard Thurland, the 55-year-old, married Mayor,” he said with a sinister air.

“Howard Thurland, the fat bald guy with eyebrows that look like squirrel tails?” I asked. “What in the world makes you think Hanna would be scr…,” I stopped myself, just in time, but was not able to come up with a better word that started with scr. “screwing around with him?”

“I checked out her facebook friends,” George grinned maniacally. “She has only one friend with the initials HT, and that’s Howard Thurland. Plus, he lives down the street from us, and she is always disappearing for hours at a time but not driving anywhere.”

I briefly had a vision of the fat, dopey, Howard Thurland in a passionate embrace with the young, athletic Hanna, and came perilously closely to remembering what I had for breakfast.

“That seems pretty unlikely,” I said, standing up and checking my watch, which was my standard move for reminding non paying customers that I was paid by the hour.

“Well I have it on good authority that Howard is a bit of a womanizer, and likes younger ladies,” George said.

“Really, where did you hear that? I asked.

“I have sources,” he whispered. “This is still a pretty small town.”

“Well, did you read the HT Diaries?” I asked.

“No, it was locked and I couldn’t get it open,” George replied. “This is my question: Do you think I should bust open the lock and read it?”

I ran the question over in my mind. If I had a 20-year-old daughter who might be fooling around with some dorky old guy, I guess I’d break the lock. But I wasn’t, I was a 45-year-old, divorced psychologist, so I went with the responsible answer.

“I would talk to her about it, tell her what you think it is, and tell her that if there is anything she wants to talk to you about, you’re there for her,” I said. “She’s old enough to make mistakes, but she’s not too old to need advice.”

It sounded so good coming out of my mouth I made a note to write it down and use it again.

The line also seemed to work with him, he stood up and shook my hand, said “thanks doc,” like he always did. I was just about to start my standard spiel about how he didn’t need to call me doc, I was not a doctor of any kind, I had a masters in psychology and practiced counseling, not psychiatry. I never got started though, as George had already headed off to develop new delusions.

After a dozen more “paid” therapy sessions, the day came to a close and I was closing up when George dropped back by, in a noticeably better mood.

“Doc, I talked to her, and she assured me there was nothing going on with Howard,” he said. “He was on her friend’s list because she voted for him.”

“Ah, well, that makes sense,” I said. “I’m glad it worked out.”

“You have no idea,” George continued. “I was about to cancel a business trip out of town because of this, but now, I’m on my way to the airport. Thanks again, doc.”

“Right, glad to help, but you don’t need to call me doc….” I started to say, but he was gone before I got halfway through the sentence.

By the time I had eaten dinner and made the five mile drive home it was closing in on 8 pm and darkness. It had been a long day and all I wanted to do was jump in the hot tub for a half hour and then go to bed. I had a private patio with a comfortable four person hot tub. The tub was blocked on two sides with a thick hedge of bushes, so I could jump in naked and not worry about being seen.

But as I opened up the sliding glass door to the patio I suddenly became aware I was not alone. The hot tub was already in use, by a girl, facing away from me, so that all I could see was her long black hair and her shoulders.

Immediately I began searching my mind for recent girlfriends with long black hair, and I came up empty. I tried to think further back, but while there had been quite a few girls who had enjoyed my hot tub, none looked like the back of this girl’s head. So I did what any bold, mature man would do. I cleared my throat and made some noise closing the door.

Which might have worked had the whirlpool jets not been on, the bubbling noise could be deafening. So I walked around to the side of the tub to get her visual attention.

Which might have worked had her eyes not been closed. I was able to identify her from the front however, it was Hanna from next door. Hanna, the daughter of my neurotic neighbor. Hanna, who I hadn’t actually laid eyes on in a few years. Hanna, who had grown up quite nicely and was wearing a red bikini and sitting in my hot tub. Hanna, who as I stood there checking her out from head to toe, had opened her eyes and was looking at me looking at her.

“Hanna,” I said, a little too scattered to think of anything more clever to add.

“Hello doc, I guess you caught me, sometimes I slip over here and borrow the hot tub when you are at work, I guess I fell asleep,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Well, that would explain why George said she was disappearing for hours at a time. I briefly thought about explaining to her about why she didn’t need to call me doc, but I decided to just let it go. “No, no, that’s fine, no problem.”

This was met by silence, maybe a slight nod from Hanna. This would probably be a good time to describe the psychological profile of Hanna. She was a little bit weird. Weird, in an unsettling, disarming way. She had always been very pretty, athletic, successful at everything she did, except for relationships. As much as her dad worried about her running around with older men, the truth was she had a way about her that made it difficult to have any kind of relationship. The really odd thing was, it wasn’t what she did that made her odd. It was what she didn’t do.

For as long as I could remember, Hanna had a peculiar way of responding to anything said to her — mostly that she didn’t respond. I would see her in the yard and wave and say “great weather we’re having,” and she would respond by…well, usually not responding. It wasn’t rude, she seemed genuinely interested in what you were saying. It wasn’t because she was stupid or scared to speak, because when she did talk she always said something intelligent, albeit in a distanced, monotone voice. It was almost like she had a sense of relaxed detachment from other people.

She also seemed to be emotionless and at the same time, direct. I remember once when she was 15, she had come by my house to borrow an egg. Without a hint of emotion or reservation, she told me that her dad needed an egg to make pancakes for dinner because her mom had run off with their yard man and he didn’t know how to cook anything else. At first I thought she was kidding, so I asked her jokingly how she knew the yard man didn’t know how to cook. What I got in return was the Hanna look, a long, quiet, stare that made me feel like she was reading my mind. As I handed her the egg, I realized she wasn’t kidding. Her gaze had continued a few more minutes and then she left.

Looking at her in the hot tub now it was like the gaze had never stopped. Most people get fidgety after five seconds of eye contact, but she could stare back at you forever. Which prompted me to get fidgety.

“So, I, well, I guess I…,” I started to say, without having any idea where I was going with it. I ended up pointing toward the back door. “I guess I’ll just…go then.”

She continued her dispassionate stare as I walked toward the back door. I was behind her before she spoke up.

“Were you going to get in the hot tub?” she asked.

I stopped at the door. “Well, yes, I mean maybe so, but I can do that later,” I replied.

“Join me,” she said, calmly, directly. It wasn’t close to a question, or even a suggestion, it was more like a quiet command.

My hand was on the door. I was contemplating a long discussion on why that would be a bad idea, but then suddenly I had a change of heart. A rationalization. I could talk to Hanna and get some answers for George. Fuck it, I’m only getting in the hot tub, it’s not anything would happen, why would she be interested some middle aged man?

“Ok, let me go get a suit on,” I said, as I started to open the sliding glass door.

“You don’t need a suit,” came her reply. “I won’t look, I promise.”

Further rationalization. It was pretty dark, it’s not like she would be seeing me naked, once I was in the water it wouldn’t matter that I wasn’t wearing a suit. Nudity wasn’t sex.

“Ok, but no peeking,” I said, coming back over to the tub. I undressed quickly as she put a hand over her eyes, though I couldn’t help but notice there seemed to be a gap between her fingers. At least enough to make me thank my gym membership for keeping me in good shape.

I eased slowly into the tub, sitting across from her, well out of touching distance. She moved her hand from her eyes and I felt the Hanna stare coming back at me again. I had to get her talking, her blue eyes were burning holes in me.

“So, Hanna, how are things going?” I asked.

She let the words sink in for a minute, measured her thoughts, contemplated a response, and then completely changed the subject.

“I want to thank you for the advice you gave to my father today,” she said. “That would have created some real problems if you had told him to break in to the HT Diaries.”

Well shit, I thought. I didn’t tell George to tell her I gave him the advice. I decided to play my responsible, concerned adult card. “I think he was worried about your safety mostly,” I said. “I take it there’s nothing dangerous going on.”

For a rare moment, it appeared that Hanna was starting to smile. Or at least look bemused. “I don’t think I’d call it dangerous,” she said. “I assure you it has nothing to do with the mayor.”

I nodded with confidence and sarcasm, indicating that in my wildest imagination I wouldn’t imagine her being interested in an older man.

“Not that I’m not attracted to older men,” she said.

The words hung in the air. They were spoken in the usual matter-of-fact tone, not in a making-a-pass tone, but I still felt a chill run up my back. I was suddenly wondering what I was doing naked in a hot tub with a 20-year-old. Making matters worse, her eyes were still locked on me, making it uncomfortable to look at her or look away. I was trying to think of something clever or insightful to say when she beat me to it.

“I was about to take my suit off before you got here, it’s more comfortable,” she said. “Would you mind?”

Oh boy, here it comes, time for me to get responsible, put a stop to this, I thought. Boy she looked good in a bikini. This is not right. Is she hitting on me? I’ve got to stop this. Was 20 a legal age to see someone naked?

The argument in my head took so long she spoke again. “Do you mind?” she asked again.

I finally got my tongue going. “I, ah, really don’t think that’s a great idea, I’m a lot older than you and it’s not really proper,” I said. “Proper” was the only word I could think of.

She looked back at me with those unsettlingly emotionless eyes. “”I figured it would be ok since you weren’t wearing anything,” she said. “I’m not talking about getting married.”

Now I was feeling foolish. Uptight. Too proper. Old. Kids these days probably strip down naked in front of each other all the time. It’s no big deal. As these thoughts moved rapidly through my head, I guess I must’ve nodded in an affirmative way.

“Then you don’t mind,” she said. Note that she said this, didn’t ask. I nodded again. Not only did I feel like I was being told what to do, I was feeling like I’d better do it.

I figured that Hanna taking her suit off would involve her humbly staying under the cover of water and discreetly slipping her suit off. I was wrong. She stood up in the hot tub, actually moved to the center where the bottom was flat and the depth was about mid thigh. She was closer to me and right in front of me, looking down on me. Without taking her eyes off me, her hands moved behind her back and she unhooked her bra top, letting it fall away.

I’m really not sure what happened the next five minutes. I became mesmerized by the most beautiful chest I had ever seen. Her skin was flawless, perfectly tanned, her torso was magnificently toned, and her breasts were simply beyond description. I had hosted my share of beautiful breasts in this hot tub, but these were the hands on winner. Pardon the pun. I was so fixated on the vision in front of me that I don’t even remember the bottoms coming off, but at some point I realized Hanna was standing in front of me completely naked. Stunningly beautiful, dripping water. Looking at me, looking at her. Not so blank anymore, bordering on the bemused look again. Probably bemused at the fact that my mouth was hanging open and my eyes were popping out.

“Do you think my body is attractive?” she said slowly.

Bypassing my normal practice of over analyzing, I responded quickly and directly. “Yes, very. Very, very, very.”

She shifted from one leg to the other, striking a sultry, almost domineering pose over me. I was in such a state of shock that if the tub had caught fire I would’ve had died before finding the focus to stand up and get out. She was looking down at me and before I realized I had an erection, I realized she was looking at it.

“Do you find me … arousing?” she said.

My sense of decorum had fled below my waist. “Yes, I find you very arousing,” I said in a voice that sounded much steadier than I felt. My hand moved up to grip my shaft at about the same time as my inhibition lost it’s grip.

“Would you like to jerk off?” she said, continuing her line of can’t miss questions.

I nodded, feeling even further detached from reality.

“Would you sit on the edge of the tub so I can watch.” she said. Once again, not really a question, more of a strong suggestion.

By this time I had lapsed into a semi-coma, nodding yes at questions and simply doing what I was told. Consequences and properness be damned. I eased out of the tub and sat on the edge, my lower legs still in the water but my dripping hard cock on full display. Following orders, I began to slowly stroke my shaft, watching the beauty in front of me. I had been at it only a short time when she moved her hand over in front of her and began to massage herself as well. For the first time ever, Hanna’s face seem to register some feeling. She was flushed, passionate, and quite aroused. She seemed to suddenly go weak in the knees, and she moved over and sat down on the edge of the hot tub, her eyes never leaving my hand stroking my cock.

So there we sat, on opposite sides of the hot tub, mutually masturbating while watching each other intently, so intently that I could see Hanna’s rising arousal. Her eyes fluttered, her mouth opened and her breathing became labored, and the pace of her long fingers quickened. As I felt my coming orgasm, I could see a total transformation taking place, from an emotionless, distant face to one contorted and enraptured by pleasure. My eyes never left her as my cock exploded, an event which put her over the edge and allowed us to share our orgasms together. Her eyes closed, she let out a low moan and then convulsed, once, then twice, then over and over, then her body seemed to collapse and she slipped back into the pool.

I had never seen a girl come that hard before without even being in contact. I wasn’t sure what to do or say, but I allowed myself to slip back into the waters of the tub as well. We sat there relaxing in post orgasmic bliss for ten minutes before a word was spoken. I broke the silence.

“Are you ok?” I asked.

She looked at me and I noticed that she was very nearly smiling. “Yes, I’m very ok,” she said. “Very, very very.”

I laughed at her mocking me. “Me too,” I said.

“That was way beyond my wildest expectations,” Hanna said.

Her statement caught me off guard, and I began my usual introspection. What expectations had she had? Had this been planned? How long was George going to be out of town? Did she expect or want more? Would my license be at stake if this session was exposed?

Before I could move on to more extensive thoughts, like how this would effect Hanna’s long term psyche and whether this would destine me for hell, Hanna moved gracefully across the hot tub and sat down in my lap, straddling her legs around mine and letting her hands drift down to my cock. Which had developed its own extensive thoughts, and was hard as a rock again.

Like a hunter seizing prey, Hanna moved forward and positioned herself just above my cock, and I saw her face change once again. The look on her face was desire, and what she desired was to have my cock deep inside her. She needn’t have asked, the answer was yes again. As our two bodies came together and I slowly inched my shaft all the way to the hilt, I saw her eyes go wide with overpowering emotion, and an almost pathetic, girlish whimper slipped out of her lips.

If it hadn’t been for the overwhelming pleasure she was feeling Hanna might be embarrassed at such an outlay of emotion, but she had lost all sense of anything but riding the cock that was in her. She lurched and grinded back and forth as my hands embraced her beautiful breasts. It wasn’t long before we were both thrashing around in the water, hands all over each other. It was incredible, watching the way her face had totally come to life, and seeing how she was reaching new heights each time I plunged myself inside her.

At one point her eyes found mine, and in a curious half question-half statement that I was unable to respond to, she said “This is your favorite position, isn’t it?”

I didn’t have time or mental focus for an answer, because I could quickly feel myself building once again, past the point of no return. I was in the middle of what felt like the hundredth thrust since my orgasm began when she whispered softly into my ear.

“I want you to come on my tits,” she said softly.

Somehow I was able to get to my feet in the tub, position myself over Hanna who was kneeling submissively in front of me. My cock unloaded all over her face, her neck and her beautiful chest. I wasn’t sure what to be more amazed by, the amount of the load that I had covered her with or the fact that on Hanna’s jizz-coated face was a beautiful, warm, satisfied smile.

It was all I could do to not splash water as I collapsed back into the hot tub. I watched Hanna’s smiling face as she joyfully rubbed my load all over her tits. Something about the way she did it reminded me of something, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. My brain was totally shot by now, so memories were hard to access.

Once again, we eased back into the tub to enjoy the relaxing evening. This time, Hanna sat beside me, my arm around her and her body close to mine. As I replayed the recent past through my head I remembered what she had asked me.

“Hanna, why did you ask me if that was my favorite position?” I asked. “It almost sounded like you knew the answer.”

Her eyes locked onto mine and she gave me the usual Hanna pause. “Yes,” she replied.

I tried to remember my question and figure out what she meant by yes. “What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean yes, I knew the answer,” she said. “I knew what your favorite position was, I knew that you liked mutual masturbation, I knew you would like coming on my chest.”

I was rapidly becoming more bewildered. “How did you know all that?”

Hanna took a deep breath and let it out. “I know all that because of the hole in the hedge,” she said. “It actually started as a small, random hole, but I invested some effort into making it larger and permanent.”

She pointed to a place in the hedge where if you looked right at it, you could see a hole in the bushes. “Through that hole, I can see your hot tub while I’m laying in my bed,” she continued. “I can see the hot tub, and everything that happens in it. And a lot has happened in it over the years.”

I could only blink and nod, thinking about just how much sex had occurred, just how many scenes she must have watched.

Hanna continued. “For years, I’ve been imagining myself being that person who was with you in the hot tub. Sex with you in this hot tub has been my ultimate, life-long fantasy. So today I decided what I had to do.”

My mind went into scramble mode. What did she have to do? Kill me? Blow up the hot tub? Report me to the authorities?

Once again she saved me from my own thoughts. “I’m going to have to fulfill every one of those fantasies,” she said, steadily, directly. “I’m going to come over here every night. I’m going to tell you what we’re going to do. And you’re going to do it.”

Mentally, I freed up my calendar for every night into eternity.

“We fulfilled three of my fantasies tonight,” she said. “Frankly, they were quite a lot better in real life than I ever hoped. I figure if we complete three fantasies a night, we could be done by the end of the summer.”

She paused, thankfully, to let all this sink in.

“Of course, some nights I’ll have to bring a friend, because some of your hot tub moments included more than one girl.”

I gasped, nearly choked, suffering from the combination of the guilt from that display and the erotic vision of it occurring in the future.

Hanna kissed me softly on the lips and then sat up on the edge of the hot tub to put her bikini back on. My thoughts were still catching up.

“So you’ve been watching me for years, and you have all these fantasies, how could you possibly remember all of them?” I asked.

“I could never remember all of them,” she said. “But I wrote them all down. I wrote them all down in what I like to call the Hot Tub Diaries. Of course, I couldn’t call it the Hot Tub Diaries on the cover, my dad would get suspicious.”

I felt an odd, freight train rush of realization coming, blazing a trail of white hot light into my brain that got there about the same time that the words came out of her mouth.

“So I called it the HT Diaries,” she said. Even she couldn’t restrain the grin.

“I’ll see you tomorrow doc.”

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