natalie c. (part 2 of david e.)

be sure to check out journal entry
david e. (part 1)

dear ej,

Classes are done. Finals have been taken. Second semester is over. My dorm room is all packed up. I have my plane ticket home. Now comes the hard part. Somehow I have to find the nerve to face David. Gosh, there's so much he doesn't know.

He probably hates me. Not that I would blame him. I guess I probably seemed pretty selfish. I really didn't explain myself much at the time. All that b.s. about meeting new people, seeing what else is out there, experiencing different things. I can't believe I actually pushed that through my lips. I lied right to his face. But it was easier than telling him the truth. It was easier than telling him about the baby.

It was easier than telling him that I had hidden a pregnancy. A pregnancy that was conceived on our prom night. A night that was so perfect and so beautiful. But it was a night that produced something that I was not ready for. I know I was irresponsible for not using protection. But I couldn't have that baby. Not now. Not with all the pressure I have on me to succeed.

From the time I was a kid. Learning to read at age 3. My uncle always calling my parents from jail. Putting me on the phone so that he could hear me read something to him. A magazine, a TV Guide. Anything. My grandmother has scrapbooked my every report card since middle school. My father paid $800 to broadcast my high school graduation on local cable tv when he found out that I would be Valedictorian.

I had every relative calling me all the time asking which school I had decided on. Everybody was reminding me that I'd be the first of Papa Charles' great-grandchildren to make it. I was going to restart the tradition since none of his grandchildren and only one of his children went to college. I was the smart one. I was the good girl.

Maybe that's why I was irresponsible that night. Maybe that's why it felt so good. One moment of sweet rebellion. It's weird. You want to do something. But then people expect you to do something. It starts out as something for you. But then it becomes something for them. Soon, you don't want to do something as much as you did before. But if you don't do it you'll be a disappointment. You'll be a statistic. You'll be a lost cause. You'll be a wasted effort. You'll be a failure. I couldn't have that baby. Not now.

But after that procedure, the guilt set in. First about the baby. Then about not telling David. Then about not telling my family. Then I remembered all the pressure that was on me. I just wanted to get away. As far away as I could. Far away from the pressure. Far away from the guilt. But inevitably, there is no escape.

I have to begin to deal with this. I love him too much to let this continue. Now comes the hard part. How do I get him to talk to me?

-- natalie c.

marina b.

dear ej,

My parents are making my life miserable. They say they're trying to protect me. But what they're doing in the process is making me hate living here. They are not allowing me the chance to have a life. Why is it that i have to suffer because of the mistakes they made when they were my age?

I feel trapped in this house. I only get to go out to a movie like two or three times a month. And when i do, i have to take my little brother and sister. Sometimes they even arrange to have my little cousins to get dropped off over here so they can go too. My best friend Kellie puts up with it because she knows I'll go crazy if I have to deal with all those kids by myself. But its so embarrassing for her to see me in that situation. She feels really sorry for me.

She tries her best to get my parentz to like and trust her so that we can go out by ourselves, but that only works once in a while. Even when I'm allowed out without the rugrats, I'm only given a limited time, like three hours and then i have to be back home.

I can't even sleep over at Kellie's without my mom confirming with her mom first. That is so lame! Kellie's mom even thinks my folks are over doing it. Even she believes you gotta trust your kid at least a little bit. She lets Kellie talk to boys. Kellie even asks her mom for advise in her relationships! It's so fucking unfair. I wish I had parents who would let me live.

Me being allowed to have a boyfriend is out of the question. If I'm on the phone, it better be with a girl. If I go out, it better be with my best friend or with another gurl. I can't go to clubs because there's boys there. No parties, boys are there. All this because my mom got pregnant with me when she was 18. So that gives her valid reason to cock-block me? Bullshyt. unlike her, I know how to make a boy put on a fucking condom. They are so stupid! They dont even realise that if I was a lesbian, they'd be making it easy for me to get pussy. Matter of fact, thats why I tried sex with a girl in the first place! I get tired of fucking myself. Im on my fifth vibrator in three months!

I'm like a caged animal in here waiting for the day I can get let out. when I'm at school, I'm like the biggest nerd. I'm trying to learn everything so I can keep a high gpa, so i can get a scholarship and get the fuck outta here. And I'm going to a school far away too. Somewhere you've gotta get on a plane to get to. They figured that putting me on lockdown was tha best way to get me to study and get good grades and not get pregnant. Well, it's fucking working.

Just thinking about this shit has got me so stressed. I can't wait till they go to sleep. My 420 is rolled up and ready to flame.

-- marina b.

eric a.

dear ej,

I could see it in her pretty hazel eyes that she was nervous. She had given me a couple blow jobs since we've been hangin out, but i knew she hadn't gone all the way yet. So my mission was to take it slow and make sure she was relaxed. We had roughly two hours before her folks were due back from the movies, but that was plenty of time. The key to her was kissing; a lot of kissing. But I didn't mind because she's really good at it. She's got big, soft lips and an active, wet tounge (two reasons why her "head" is "bananas").

I wanted us to undress slowly. I let her undress me and I undressed her, all the while sharing deep passionate kisses. She was wearing matching purple lace underwear. She had told me in conversation before how she felt sexy in purple lace. She was definately ready for what was happening.

When the clothes were all off, my mouth went on a tour of her body. I could hear her breathe deeply with delight as I explored. When I arrived down below, I couldn't believe how sweet she tasted. It was like she was oozing honey and vanilla. I got so turned on as she grabbed my head and started to spit sexy oh's and yes's. That made it all the more enjoyable as I parted her tight lips with my tounge, trying to loosen up her walls for what was coming next. The more I probed, the more her perfect thighs trembled with pleasure.

When her river flowed so heavily that I thought I would drown, i lifted my head and began to climb. We shared one more deep liplock as i prepared to enter her. I pressed the head of my dick to the fuzzy skin of her sweet peach, then suddenly she stopped me. "Wait baby," she said. "I wanna suck it before you fuck me." Then she brought me to her mouth and pleasured me better than she ever had before, which is saying a lot.

She made me swell to the throbbing point, which may not have been good for a first-timer. As I pressed myself inside, her joyful moans changed to pangs of distress. Her hands clenched the sheets and she bit her bottom lip, trying to ignore the pain. I went as slow as I could, trying to give her skin a chance to stretch around my rock hard member. But she was working against that for a while as her pussy would contract around me everytime she tensed up. Unless she could relax, this was not going to be good for her.

So I began kissing her again. Deep, wet, sensual kisses. They were soothing to her. She settled down. I could feel her juices flow again. Soon she was able to take all of me. I slipped totally inside of her slick walls. Her hips began to move with mine. Her hands no longer clinched the sheets. They were now caressing my back. The music of her sweet voice played loud tunes of "yea baby" and "oh my god."

I turned over on my back and put her on top so that she could be in control. She went slow and steady the rest of the way until she couldn't take anymore. She lifted off of my erection and layed next to me. She immediately started holding herself between her legs. I held her close and asked if she was alrite. "I'm ok," she wimpered. "I mean, I was takin' that shit, wasn't I baby?" she chuckled through the pain. I told her to take steaming hot baths and try to take it easy for the next day or so until the soreness went away. I hated to leave but we both knew I had to. I told her to rest and call me whenever she woke up.

I consider myself lucky to be the first to take her all the way. She's very aggressive, and a natural freak. I expect that after another break-in, that the sex will be mindblowing, considering it was pretty good the first time. I can't wait until she calls. I'm going crazy in this dorm wondering what's going to come out of her mouth. She could already talk dirty with the best of them. Now that she's had some, she's gonna be almost to much to handle.

-- eric a.

david e. (part 1)

dear ej,

Not long ago I thought my life was pretty much over. When Natalie left, I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. It was all so sudden. She had decided to go away to college and not take our relationship with her. This was her chance to meet new people, experience different things, and see what else is out there. Sounds like sumthing a guy would typically say to a girl.

When she broke it off I was shocked and devistated. I used to do everything I could to make her happy. I'd take her shopping, and I kept her hair and nails done. I bought her cell phones and payed the bill. I even taught her how to drive so she could borrow the car my parents bought for me. We were damn near inseparable. Then she dropped that bomb on me. Afterward, I wouldn't go out. I wouldn't talk to my friends. I cried like a fucking baby for the first week. I felt like all I had was gone. I was empty inside. I was incomplete without her.

But after a while it hit me that life has to go on despite how much pain you're in. College wasn't in my plans. My grades were not good enough to get me a scholarship. I couldn't gather much grant money. And I decided not to borrow thousands in student loans that would put my family in more debt. I thought it best to stay home and continue to dj.

Time went on and I tried to forget about her by working my ass off doing parties, putting out mix tapes and networking. Soon I landed an internship at a radio station. Now I'm doing promotions. It's cool. I'm not rich and famous, but I get to pass out free t-shirts, cds and event tickets. I get to drive one of the stations hummer H2's. I get my voice heard on the radio a couple times a week. I even get groupies.

It's been about six months since Natalie went away. It still hurts when I think about her. She doesn't call. Probably because I cussed her out and told her not to. But even still, she should've known i said that out of anger. If she did call, though, I don't know what I'd say or do. But for now I'm ok. I'm doing well. And as long as she's not on my mind, I'm pretty close to being happy.

-- david e.