A Formerly Shy Person

On arrival at school, I put my coat in my locker, and went off to my first class, then my second, waiting impatiently for recess. By now, I'd figured out where Joey's locker and classes were, and decided to position myself on ledge at the bottom of the stairs where he might notice me. I hopped up on it, surprised at how cool the stone was against the underside of my thighs where the skirt didn't shield them. People were wandering and I tried to shift myself without being obvious, adjusting my kilt so that if I spread my legs a bit, the fabric would straighten across the top of my thighs, providing an open view to my panties.

I pulled out my latest book, a bit of a sci-fi bodice-ripper called "Outlander" and waited.

I actually got quite involved in my book, and had almost forgotten my purpose. At any rate, I realized I'd let my legs drift apart a bit more than was decent when I realized there were two guys I didn't know watching me from the bank of lockers across from where I was sitting. I knew they could see my white panties peaking out since my knees were at least a foot apart. I kept reading, noticing them whispering back and forth as they continued to stare. I began to get aroused at the idea of these strangers seeing my underwear, and I had to remind myself not to get carried away. I did, though, shift to sit cross legged on the wide ledge, ensuring that my kilt was pulled tight across my knees. The boys adjusted their position and it was obvious they were trying to maintain a view - something they achieved by slouching a bit less, I think.

I flipped a page and realized that I was getting wet and had to struggle to resist squirming. At that point, I realized that I should stop, and, as casually as possible, I put my book in my backpack and slid off the ledge. I walked away as casually as I could, but felt like I was dripping down my thighs.

I smiled at Joey as I walked past him, and he did a double take; I heard him ask his friends who I was. It was sad, as we'd been in the same grade and classes for 4 years. But then I realized that I'd smiled at him...I'd done something to bring attention to myself and it had been ok - hell, he'd looked at me. And those boys had looked at me. And damn, I was turned on.

***

I spent the rest of the day, including my lunch break, lost in thought considering what I'd done and what the results had been. And I knew I had to do more. But I had to do it safely.

***

That night, my family was out, and I had the place to myself. I was still thinking, and, remember my swimming suit and towel from the night before, ran the laundry. As I was pulling out my warm suit, I decided to try it on and, in the bright lights of our bathroom, see just what could be seen when it was wet.

The first thing I noticed, putting it on my body, was how scratchy the fabric felt, but then that's what happens to that fabric in bathing suits as time goes on. And then I thought about how it felt pulling tight against my pussy, snuggly holding my breasts. I looked in the mirror and saw that my nipples were already obvious through the fabric, just as they were the night before. But then I had to look closer.

I began to shift and twist myself a bit, but I was sure that through the stretched fabric, I could see the darkness of my nipples compared to my pale freckled breast. It was vague, but I was sure it was there. Could others see it the night before in the lower lights of the pool?

Oh my god. What about when it was wet?

I quickly jumped in the shower soaking myself and the suit, and climbed back out, dripping water all over the floor. I looked in the mirror. The suit, as I'd thought last night, clung to my body like a second skin. My nipples were there in black relief, and I really could count each bump on each areola. And as I twisted and turned, it was more obvious to me that the fabric, without it's lining, was slightly transparent. Careful attention let me know that you could see the shift in skin-tones through the suit, but without staring up close, it wasn't totally obvious. I think in the lower light of the pool, I'd be ok.

I took off the suit, ringing it out, and realized that I was really turned on. As I stood there, naked, I looked back at the suit and asked myself, "What about if I took out the rest of the lining?" There was the lining that covered the lower half of the suit, my ass and pussy areas. Hmm. I looked at it, and thought, "What the hell, it's an old suit," and knew I was going to do it. I had to look and see, to imagine what would be seen by others.

The job was quickly accomplished and the suit was now liner-less. I pulled it on and jumped back in the shower, and back out in front of the mirror. I looked at my nipples again, and realized that if I stuck out my chest, the fabric would stretch and the colour would be more obvious. Hmm...this had possibilities. And then I looked down.

The first thing I realized was that you could definitely tell I wasn't shaved. The fabric clung tight against me, every hair seemingly outlined in it. I just about collapsed as I reached down and ran my fingers along the fabric. As they crossed over my clit, I just about collapsed in an orgasm that took me without warning. I'd not realized how worked up I was, nor how good this tight suit felt against my body.

I looked at the clock on the wall, and realized my family would be home soon. I began to clean up the room with a few towels from the hamper (hmm...I should have done those with the laundry too) and threw them back in the bin. I then stripped off my suit and smelling the air, realized they needed a quick rinse. As I wrung them out over the sink, I heard the door downstairs open as my family entered. I ran quickly to my room, and closed the door, leaning against it to keep the world out.

My dad yelled, "We're home!" through my bedroom door, but didn't come in, and I called back, "Sounds good, I'm crashing early, I'm tired." There was no reply.

I reached down and felt my pubic hair, and then felt lower. Then I rolled away from the door into the middle of my bedroom floor, and began to masturbate for all I was worth. It was a long night.

***

I spent Friday, that week, in thought. My list of personal fantasies and dares was growing as well.

Saturday saw me off to the mall with my research in hand. I'd spent Friday night learning everything I could about pubic shaving and it had come down to two things. A good pair of no-cut trimmers, and something called the "Seiko CleanCut". I'd need some talc-free talcum powder too, and some lotions. But the main thing for pain free shaving was that CleanCut thing. It took me an hour, but I finally found it in a shop a few blocks from the mall that dealt in electric shavers and trains and models and stuff. It was an odd place, but interesting at the same time.

The older man who sold me a "set" with the CleanCut and a trimmer as well gave me a big smile and knowing wink as I left. I could feel the burn of my embarrassment spread across my face and neck, and the heat of the thrill spread out from my pussy.

I went home and waited in my room, waited for everyone to leave the house before I went through with it. I didn't want to be interrupted or to have anyone asking what that buzzing noise was.

I somehow managed to do my homework and stay out of everyone's way. I changed my panties 3 times that day, as I was constantly aroused.

***

Sunday morning saw everyone go out again. Living in a crowded house, I was realizing, was a challenge to a dirty perv like me! I'd read and re-read the instructions I'd gathered on the internet, and done the same with the brief instructions included in my new shaving toys. Gathered together on my bedroom floor, I sat on a towel and had another few scattered around. I had my large bedroom mirror pulled up, one corner right up to my ass as I sat legs spread, knees up, leaning forward. The key stuff with the CleanCut is to have a dry work-area, which meant putting some of that baby-powder in place. I dusted my hair and my lips, though I couldn't do much to help that wet line down the middle of my white-dusted skin. I began with the trimmer and quickly cut all my pubic hairs down to a mm in length - all without a nick or scratch! I paused and ran my fingers lightly across the peach fuzz, loving the sensations in the tips of my fingers as well as my pubis. It was soft and scratchy depending on how I moved my fingers, and the vibrations I felt - but I stopped myself from going further, knowing I had a job to finish.

I ran to the bathroom, loving the thrill of being naked in my house, and quickly rinsed and dried myself. On returning to my room, the talc again emerged and I reapplied it to my pussy and peach fuzz areas. And then came the CleanCut - and it trimmed me as smooth as my legs had ever been with razor. And there were no nicks. AND IT VIBRATED. I'd had to reapply the talc a few times to make it through, but in the end, I stood over my mirror, admiring the smooth skin of my outer lips, trying to ignore the puffiness of my emerging inner lips. God I was turned on. And the sensations of my fingers running across the smooth skin, smooth lips, it was amazing.

I realized that I should clean up, and discarded the hair by shaking the towel over a garbage can, and tossing it in the laundry bin. I didn't think I had time to try on the suit wet, someone might be home at any moment. My younger brother and older sister and brother (twins) still lived at home; it was rare they were all out as well as my parents.

I returned to my room and, standing my mirror up against the wall again, admired myself.

I took some of the lotions I'd bought and spent the next two hours applying them - for purely medicinal reasons, of course!

By the time my family started walking into the house, I was reading in the living room, more relaxed than I'd ever been before in my life.

***

I spent the next couple days just exploring my new hairless cunt (I'm working on my vocabulary!)...and, really, it took up a lot of my attention. In pants, it rubbed, in panties it rubbed, in bed - I rubbed! It was incessant. And it was wonderful. I was constantly aroused and took to carrying extra panties to school in my back pack.

I shaved again, just with the CleanCut (I now call it the ClearCut in consideration of some local logging practices), after two days, and never once had an itch or scratch; well, of a non-sexual kind.

I'd not had a real chance to try on the bathing suit again, as somebody else was always home. It didn't matter, though, as I spent most of the time in my room trying on everything else I owned, figuring out what would work for showing off, and what wouldn't. And what would work for getting me off, and what wouldn't.

It really struck home that I dressed in a very plain way. Lots of browns and greys and dark blues, very little bright colour - and almost all shapeless and not very feminine. Nothing really accentuated or showed off my shape. There was the odd thing, but even the skirts and blouses I had were pretty dry.

My mother and sister noticed my sudden interest in fashion and, though they didn't know my real purpose, really got into it. I think they were relieved that I was finally taking and interest. I realized that even my family saw me as somewhat invisible. When asked what prompted the change, I simply said that, "I want to look more feminine and attractive. I've been dressing like such a tom-boy the last few years, and I need to change that. You and mom are so pretty and stylish, and I want to be more like you."

That simple statement to my sister was shared with my mother and the two of them began constantly suggest shopping trips and hair-styles to experiment with. Suddenly I had a new wardrobe picked out with my mother, my sister, and on my own with mom's monetary support. I even came home one day to find a gift-box on my bed full of some sexy underwear; it was a gift from my sister. She'd also left a note saying that I should go through her old boxes of clothes in the basement and take anything I wanted before it all went to charity.

I spent a few nights going through those boxes down in the basement, a single bulb lit above me, and it was a trove of clothes with potential. My sister had never been one to dress frumpy. She had skirts, dresses, tight tops, tight pants, short shorts, etc. Some would need to be modified, but if I made a mistake, it wasn't a big deal, as these were all not needed by my sister any more. I guess that was selfish since they were all going to charity, but at this point I felt like a bit of a charity - I needed these clothes to get ...well, to get noticed.

I'd almost forgotten about the suit. Well, not at all, actually - it was still calling to me.

Another Wednesday rolled around when my younger brother wasn't going to the swimming pool. I quickly grabbed my bag, deciding that I couldn't wait for an empty house to see how I looked. I'd just have to take a chance. My dad was home and gave me the car keys, proud that I was getting out with friends.

Thirty minutes later, I was in the empty change room pulling on my old suit. The tingling started as soon as I realized I was completely naked, shaved and all, in public, for the first time in my life. As I pulled the suit into place, I took the plunge I promised myself I'd take and didn't look in a mirror. I locked my locker and went directly out to the pool, diving in to the slow swim lane and immediately beginning to complete a lap.

I wasn't sure what was visible to anyone behind me as I swam the breast stroke, though I knew people swimming toward me would be able to easily see my nipples through the clinging fabric. And maybe see the colour tones showing through the fabric as well? I made sure to puff out my chest as much as I could while I swam and wondered if my pussy was visible, the outline, or even more, to anyone behind me.

I looked over my shoulder to notice one man with a snorkel and mask behind me. I smiled and wondered more, feeling almost naked in the suit. It was pulled high up in the hips, higher than it was supposed to be, and I loved that only an inch or so of fabric was covering my cunt at the very bottom. At the end of the lane I clung to the edge, waiting and allowing the man to swim past me. His head emerged from the water briefly and he smiled at me, a nervous look in his eye. I could tell he wanted me to keep going, but I said, "After you," and waved him on.

I tried to be subtle as I slid him right hand down the suit, tracing my fingers gently. Shivers ran up my body and I quickly traced along the edge of the suit at the bottom, figuring out that it covered me, but barely. My mind started going, asking myself what would happen if I pulled one part of the suit toward the middle....perhaps over a lip and left it...it would look like it had slid there by mistake, wouldn't it?

I swam another few lengths, thinking about it, getting more and more worked up. I phased everyone else out, the idea running through my mind. Could I get away with it? The suit, was, I knew, already pulling up my ass, and not covering 2/3 of what it once did.

At the end of the next length, I used my right hand to pull the back of the suit up my ass more, completely uncovering the right cheek. I kept swimming, realizing that the same man from before was behind me again, his snorkel bobbing above his head as he swam. I was fairly sure my cunt was still covered, but not by much, and he definitely could see my right ass cheek completely. At the next turn, I let him pass me again, the disappointment on his face evident, despite his attempt to hide it.

I let another few people swim by as I clung to the wall, I then began swimming again when there was a gap of almost half a length clear of people behind me. As I did so, I let my right hand drop, my lust pushing through my fear and hesitation, and slid the right side of my suit seam over a bit, so that it was resting just inside the cleft of my pussy. Now, anyone swimming behind me would definitely see more than they were expecting. I kept swimming laps, concentrating on my form, and trying to look like I was unaware of anything but; in concentrating on my form I kept my chest pushed forward, and my kicks brought my legs as far forward and apart as possible.

A few laps later I looked over my should and realized that the group behind me had caught up, again led by Mr. Mask and snorkel. I shivered as I swam knowing that he was seeing more of me than anyone ever had. Each stroke let me feel the water swirl over the exposed half of my cunt and the fabric seam pull itself tighter into by gap. And he was watching.

I made it through another 3 laps before I began to shiver as though I was going to orgasm. I pulled myself up on the ledge and pulled my legs up a bit as I rode out the orgasm, breathing heavily into my arm. I hoped that to everyone else around me it looked like I was just catching my breath.

"Are you OK?" I heard from behind me and I turned to see Mr. Snorkel holding on to the wall as another swimmer pushed off the wall.

"I am, just catching my breath. I've not swum this much in ages."

There was a pause as he realized, I think, that he'd not actually thought what to say to me beyond his opening statement. For that matter, I didn't know what to say back. I'd not spoken to someone outside of family and school in a social context in ... well, in years.

"I'm not sure if I'm doing it right," I blurted out before I could stop myself.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm not sure if I've got the stroke right," I spouted, "especially the kick. It feels odd.

"Um," he mumbled, obviously not sure what he could say without getting busted for staring at me under water.

I wasn't sure what I was doing, but I plunged on, "Would you mind looking at my stroke and telling me if I'm getting it right?"

"Um."

There was a pause.

"Sure?" he said, though it was spoken as a question.

"OK, let's go over to the side here, and get out of the way of these other lap-swimmers."

The smile on his face and the rate at which he swam over let me know that I'd really hooked him. At least I think I had. I was new to this "attraction" game, but I was liking the feeling so far.

I led him to a shallower part of the pool, in the open half without lanes, and found an area away from other people. I asked him to watch my stroke for a minute, and he stood there as I dropped under water.

I began to swim in circles around him, and looked up after a couple laps to inquire how I was doing.

"It's actually kinda hard to tell through the moving water," he complained. The nerve. Ha.

"Maybe," I said as innocently as I could, "you could see more with your mask." I dove back under and saw his body drop into the water beside me. I began to swim around him, though, I must admit, I swam the last lip on my side, facing inward.

"You look, um good, he said, as he stood there, chest deep in the pool. What is it I should be watching for?"

"I'm not sure if I'm getting my kick right. Can you watch for that?"

"Um, yeah, but it'll be hard if I have you swim in circles. It won't look balanced."

"What do you suggest, sir?" I was laying it on thick. "And thank you so much for helping me. This pool is cold enough that I can't really feel the motions right. My skin is all numb."

He choked on his next words, "Um, well, how about over her by the ledge. Hold onto the ledge and I'll lower myself under water. You swim, and by pushing against the ledge, you'll stay in one spot."

"Oh, what a great idea," I said, turning and swimming over to the ledge.

As I began to kick my legs, I considered the man, a stranger, who was just under the water behind me. I looked over a shoulder and confirmed he was only a couple feet away, looking straight at my cunt. Sure, half of it was covered by my old suit, but half wasn't.