Virginia Beach

Edited by Quinn McMullen

This story was originally all together in one part. After many kind comments I have expanded several sections and divided it into three parts to make it easier for you the reader. All characters are at least 18 years of age. Special thanks to Quinn McMullen for all his efforts with editing. It was no small task!

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Dear diary,

I am not really the write-in-a-diary kind of person but with nothing else to do here we go.

We arrived last night at my Gram's condo. She had left me a little care basket and in among other things was this leather-bound diary and several really nice pens.

There was also a note saying she had linked one of her credit cards to my room key. Gram said I would be able to use it for a spa day or anything else I may need around the resort. She told me not to worry about how much things cost and to consider anything I purchased a graduation present. She said she would see me in a few weeks so try to enjoy myself.

It's still raining, but they say the actual storm hit last week. The cable and internet are down, not that I am allowed to use them, leave it to Gram to find something for me to do when there is nothing to do, and she isn't here.

I'm also not sure on diary etiquette if there is such a thing. Am I supposed to be addressing the diary as if it is my close personal confidant, or am I writing to my future self for review and self-reflection? I think it may be both.

I can't remember the last time I put pen to paper. I mean, don't we live in the civilized world. My fingers already hurt.

_ _ _ _ _

Dear Diary,

It's Tuesday.

After some reflection, I have decided you are my only companion for the next week and a half until my Gram gets here. You are a place I can write my thoughts without fear of repercussions or judgment. It will be within your pages I write, then reflect on what has brought me to this point in my life. I will also be documenting what it is like to be me.

So, let's back up a little and catch you up on the events that have landed me on this tropical island for the summer.

A little over a year and a half ago was my senior year. It was supposed to be one of the best years of my life. The pinnacle of childhood. That golden moment before crossing the magical threshold of adulthood and responsibility.

A quick recap. My family, Mom, Dad, my two older brothers and I relocated to a small town in Michigan from sunny Fort Lauderdale. It was the summer before I was to start my ninth-grade year.

So, I started from scratch in this little rural town far from the hustle and bustle of city life. I wasn't a typical teen growing up. While my two brothers, who were four and six years older, were the epitome of cool. I was not. Not only was I a bit of a late bloomer, but I was more than a little awkward. After the move, my parents became very strict with me. I was never encouraged to make friends. When it came to social skills, well, I had none. As far as friends I may have had, they had been left behind 800 miles away.

So, I turned my attention to school, and for the next three years, I was top of the bottom ten percent of my class. Yeah, let that sink in. I did just well enough to not be noticed. On top of my academic failure and lack of friends Mom and Dad never allowed me to date or attend social functions that included both sexes.

I had a few friends, but they were not popular kids. As a matter of fact, I secretly hated them for not being popular. On the first day of my freshman year, I was invited to sit at a table by what looked like a normal human. She was nice and had a great personality. What I didn't know is every one of her friends was a bottom feeder. I was quickly shunned by the "cool kids" after that fateful day. It's amazing how sitting at the unpopular kid's table one time had earned me a new label. Loser. To say I had all kinds of self-image problems would be the understatement of the year.

Flash forward to my senior year and things just got worse. First, the world tried to end with a global pandemic that shut down my life. Then we didn't know if we were going to have school let alone graduate. That was fine by me by the way. In the end, none of that mattered. Well not for me anyway. I ended up slipping on some ice and I fell down a flight of stairs. I remember the slip, and then I remember it was like something sucked the light away from my eyes, but nothing after that.

Among all my other injuries it turned out that I broke my neck. Go me! My doctors were optimistic however, and told me, with physical therapy over the next few years, I may even regain control of some of the motor functions in my arms, but I would most likely never walk again. I spent my eighteenth birthday in a hospital bed recovering from my second surgery and that is when the depression really set in.

Flash forward four months. I had my fourth surgery. This time to fuse two of my vertebrae for pain management. The long and short is when I woke up, I had to pee. Still groggy and disorientated from the anesthesia, I sat up and swung my feet off the bed. All the alarms started going off when things were disconnected and by the time the nurse got in the room. I was halfway to the bathroom. I don't remember any of the incident, but that's what they told me when I woke up several hours later. Everything seemed to be working again, including my nerve endings. The pain was almost unbearable.

I still needed lots of physical therapy. Begrudgingly my body continued to heal as did my mental health. I ended up graduating despite all the school I missed and started to feel like I had been given a second chance to live my life. I wanted to live it in full. Maybe I would travel to exotic places and do exotic things. That is until my parents informed me if I was to continue living at home, I would need to start community college in the fall. With no job, no money, and no life, I reluctantly did as I was told and that is when the pendulum of luck began to swing the other way.

The week before college started, my Gram came to visit. The last time I saw her was just before we left Fort Lauderdale over four years ago. I was super excited to see her. Before we moved, she was a staple at the house. She had helped raise me and my brothers and she was super cool. I'm not sure why she hadn't been around the past few years, but I was excited to have her back in my life.

Since she was in town, and everyone else was busy, my father had asked Gram if she would be willing to take me shopping for school clothes and supplies. She agreed and bright an early on Tuesday morning we were off like a whirlwind and headed forty minutes away into the city.

The thing I liked most about Gram, besides everything, was she treated me like an adult. That simple fact made me realize my parents still treated me like a child.

Gram said first things first, and she took me to a spa where over the next several days I would be introduced to the wonderful world of full-body massages, facials, manicures, pedicures, and waxing.

As we entered, the smell of lavender and eucalyptus embraced us. There was a large piece of fogged glass that was ceiling to floor. It separated the reception area from the rooms. Water ran down the glass ending up in a small pond full of little black stones. The sound of wind instruments played in the background almost imperceptibly.

We were greeted by a young Asian woman wearing a white tunic style top that gathered at the waist and matching slacks. She greeted us warmly and handed each of us a little card with a list of all the services available. Not having a clue on what I was doing I cheated on my homework so to speak and copied all my Gram's answers. Gram asked if I wanted to do a couples massage or did, I want my own masseuse. Feeling a little nervous I decided to buddy up with Gram.

We were then led to a room with two tables softly lit with real candles. It smelled faintly of spruce. There were robes and towels laid out for us. I watched as Gram began to strip. Turning partially away from her I followed suit.

I watched her out of the corner of my eye. While I had seen old women walk around naked at the YMCA, I had never seen my Gram naked before. She looked much different than they had. Her skin wasn't quite as wrinkly, and her skin and breasts didn't sag. I wondered if maybe Gram had a boob job. They seemed as perky as mine. Then she slipped her robe over her naked body, and I followed suit.

A few minutes later there was a knock at the door, and we were led to the steam room. Gram took off her robe and hung it on the hook right in front of the lady. She didn't seem ashamed of her nakedness at all. I just hoped that I could be as confident with my own body someday. I waited until the lady had turned and was walking away before I slipped off my own robe. Then stepping through the door, I disappeared into the steam of the room.

Immediately I was surrounded by heat, and the strong smell of cedar and eucalyptus. It was like two million degrees and hard to breathe the hot damp air. Gram was pouring some water on rocks. I sat on the lower bench and watched a plume of fresh steam permeate the air.

Gram then sat on the top bench and leaned back against the wall closing her eyes and breathing deeply. I moved up to her bench, but then ended up moving back down because it was too warm for me.

I found myself continuing to glance over at Gram. Although the steam obscured my view, I notice how large her areolas and nipples were.

"They're not real."

She startled me when she spoke, and I turned sharply away closing my eyes. I leaned back on the bench behind me even though it was hot on my back.

Keeping my eyes closed I said, "They're not?"

"I got a tune up a few years ago, I was tired of looking at someone so much older than I felt in the mirror. Upper thigh and neck are still a bit wrinkly, but the rest of me turned out pretty good if I do say so myself. Turned sad Cs into Happy Ds. Besides, when you take care of yourself the men tend to notice and take care of you too."

Somehow, I felt the heat of my cheeks despite the heat of the room. After a few minutes my body began to relax, and my breathing became easier. I think the eucalyptus was opening my airways. I could feel my pours open and the sweat leaving my body.

After about fifteen minutes there was a familiar knock on the door. Gram and I stood and walked out of the sauna. There was a giant overhead shower just outside the door that was already turned on and running. I watched as Gram stepped into the stream of water.

I should have suspected something when I saw Gram's nipples draw up tight. But no, I stepped unwittingly into the freezing stream of water after she exited. My own nipples followed suit; my entire body was now covered in goose bumps. I screamed and jumped out.

Gram laughed, "Refreshing isn't it?"

I dried myself off, "Very funny Gram, hope you're having a good time."

"Always!" Giving me a wink as she slipped her robe back on.

A few minutes later I was lying face down on the massage table covered by a thin sheet. It felt heavenly as the masseuse's fingers glided over my body. It was relaxing, almost to the point of sleep.

The masseuse found a tender spot on my shoulder and dug her fingers in. "How's that, too hard?"

I gritted my teeth, "Nope, that's fine."

The rest of the time was spent trying not to squirm off the table as she worked knot after knot out of my body.

When we left, Gram looked radiant and refreshed. I felt like I had just been through a meat grinder. She asked how It felt and I was honest with her. It was always easy to be honest with Gram, she never seemed shocked by my responses and was very encouraging.

She smiled at me, "Sweetheart, you need to let people know when you don't know something or you're uncomfortable. You can't expect people to just know. If you don't know, ask, if something needs to change, speak up. This applies to every area of your life."

"Okay, thanks. I will try and remember that."

We came back to the spa several times while she stayed with us. It seemed to be how Gram liked to start her days.

On our second visit, not heeding her advice from that last time, I just checked off everything she did without asking questions once again. I already knew what to expect.

I was led to my own room this time and was surprised when they told me to strip and lay on my back and they would be back in a few minutes. I was glad because there would apparently be no sauna or cold water. I stripped and laid down covering up with the sheet.

There was a soft knock and then when the nice lady entered, she asked if I was getting shaped or taking it all off, I was a little confused. I told her I wanted it all off.

Sure, it was the first time getting my legs waxed but it seemed an odd question. I didn't want to leave any hair. I mean that would be weird right?

So can you say ouch! After she did the first few strips it was like she kept going over the same spot. But I took it like a trouper if I do say so myself.

When they spritzed my most intimate area and then wiped it down, it startled me a little and I almost asked what they were doing. Instead, I laid there as she continued.

She told me what she was doing just before she did it, but it was still quite shocking to have someone touching me there. It was very stimulating and unnerving to feel her wiping the whole area down. Then there was the warmth of the sugar, I think that's what she said it was. They also used wax, but I am not sure what was what. Then she pressed something to me and then rip. I felt her hand against the sting, and it seemed to squelch it a little. After several more passes, and to my absolute horror, she had me turn on my side and spread my butt cheeks. What had I gotten myself into? Then just like that it was done.

Despite the discomfort of everything, I felt fresh and airy down there. Oh, the lady said I shouldn't wear any panties or anything tight for the next day, so I was going commando.

Gram was waiting when I appeared back in the waiting room with a knowing smile. "How did it go?"

It seemed like she was holding back laughter.

"Fine," I said a little sharply, "But I am asking more questions next time."

At this she did laugh, "Good."

Then it hit me, "Did you really get the same thing?"

"Nope," Gram said with another smile. "I actually talked with them after you went in and changed mine to a French bikini."

"That was a dirty trick," I said, sulking a little.

I am a slow learner sometimes, but I do have to say that by that last spa day, just before school started, I was definitely more vocal about what I wanted. At the end of our appointment, I came out looking and feeling as relaxed as Gram.

In between all this relaxation and mild discomfort, we were off to shop for my new wardrobe.

In the past Mom always took me to Walmart or the mall for clothes. Old Navy was definitely a staple in my life. I mostly wore hoodies and baggie jeans, so shopping was easy and quick.

Now, Gram was having none of the jeans and t-shirt look. The first store she took me to was a boutique of some sort. Gram talked to the sales lady for a few minutes. She came over and started taking all my measurements. Then everything was a blur. Ten boutiques later and I don't know how many packages, we returned to the house.

We brought all the bags into my Gram's room. She asked if I remembered when I was little, how she would bring me outfits, and how I would put on a fashion show for her. I laughed at the memory. While she laid outfits out on the bed I stripped down to my bra and panties.

Turning toward me Gram gasped, "Oh, sweetie we have to do something about your intimates"

Then it was like I was in one of those old movies like Pretty Woman or The Princess Diaries. I tried each thing on and did a little spin. Gram would give the final yes or no. We separated the clothes into stacks, ones to keep and ones going back. It was a fantastic day and for the first time in a long time, I felt like a normal person.

The next day we were off like a shot again, this time Gram took me to Victoria's Secret where I was outfitted with bras, panties, and stockings.

In the past the undergarments I wore were cotton panties with floral designs on them bought in bulk. My bras were functional and did their job well enough, so I never had any complaints other than having to wear them. I had never even owned a pair of nylons let alone silk thigh-high stockings.

Back at home once again, I modeled everything for Gram. First on the list was panties. The sheer volume of options was staggering. Gram however made short work of selecting them. From thongs to boy shorts, I now owned a large variety of lacy and silk undies in every shape and color. They hugged my curves as they slid into place. I hadn't even realized I had curves!

Next was silk stockings and nylons. Again, Gram selected a wide variety of styles and colors. They caressed my skin as I slid them into place. They made my parts feel cool and crisp. I like the feel of the air on my skin as I moved around. I had never owned stockings, or anything that made me feel so sexy.

Now we moved on to the bras. These bras were nothing like any I had owned in the past. Gram handed me a black lacy one. I worked myself into it and found it was not comfortable in any way. After Gram got done adjusting the straps, she turned me so I could see myself in the mirror.

My mouth hung open. It had lifted and pushed my 32 D cups together creating an overwhelming amount of cleavage. I guess I had gradually grown into my boobs and hadn't really noticed how big they had gotten. Add that to the fact I had full coverage Walmart bras and wore baggy shirts and hoodies they had never really been anything to look at. I mean I saw them every day, right? Now they were all out there and looked as if they would burst free at any moment.

I turned this way and that, looking at the stranger in the mirror. When I squinted my eyes just right, I looked like a brunette Scarlet Johansson. Dare I say I looked sexy as hell!

After the bras Gram pulled a couple of little teddies from the bag. I looked at her wide eyed as she handed them to me. Gram said every woman should have a little something on hand that could excite a man. I blushed, but didn't turn the little red and black teddies down.

I didn't try them on then, but later I slipped into them. I loved the way the silk and lace felt on my skin. Just putting the material on made me feel good. The red one covered most of my breasts and was cut high in the hip with my back being fully exposed.

The black one was mostly lace. It was also cut high in the hip with an open back. The lace left nothing for the imagination, and I could see my hard nipples trying to poke through it.

The next day we shopped for clothing accessories, belts, scarves, bracelets, necklaces, and rings. It was another wonderful day.

Once back home Gram spent the next few hours tossing out most of my old clothes and arranging outfits for me. She showed me how to get the most out of my new wardrobe with different combinations and accessories. She turned ten outfits into fifty. It was a lot to take in, but so much fun.

The Friday before school started, we were off to the stylist to have my hair done. I always wore my hair up and in a ponytail. When it was down, I would constantly sit on it. We decided to cut it just below my shoulder blades. Once cut and freed from the excess weight, my straight hair turned into cascading waves. Then they did highlights and once again my mouth hung open.

Fast forward to Monday morning. At the ripe old age of nineteen, my grandmother dressed me for school and did my hair and makeup. When I looked in the mirror, I didn't recognize the person staring back. The changes were subtle. You barely noticed I was wearing makeup. My new jeans were loose at the ankle, but became skintight just above the knee. They then rounded the emphasized curves of my butt and hips ending just above my belly button. My white collar cropped blouse was unbuttoned to the second button just teasing the voluptuous breasts they were concealing. I was accentuated in all the right places without making anything stand out too much. I felt stunning.