Date: Mon, 21 Jan 2002 15:05:52 -0500
From: Christine Larkin <larkin47@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Clothing Exchange

Can a small incident make a big change in your life? Perhaps. I think
that's just what happened to me the other day. I've always thought of
myself as straight, not even bisexually curious. I'm a woman in my mid-30s,
single, and never got hot looking at other women.

I know I'm not terribly pretty, but I'm decent looking, I think. I'm also a
bit plump, but it doesn't bother me. Perhaps that's why I'm a good friend
with Rachel, my sister-in-law. She's also a bit of a plain-Jane, in her
mid-thirties and, since her marriage to my brother five years ago, has
grown a bit round in the waist and bottom, like me.

Two weeks ago, she called and said she was about to get rid of some clothes
she could no longer fit into. She was sure I still had the figure to fit
into the more slender garments, and even though I disagreed, I told her I'd
stop by and see what she had.

That Saturday afternoon when I visited my brother was gone, and so Rachel
and I spent a long time chatting in the kitchen, drinking coffee, eating a
few cookies and joking about whether we would need a whole new wardrobe
before the day was done. Finally, we went up to Rachel's second bedroom,
where she had a load of clothes spread across the bed.

Rachel gestured towards the pile and said to try on anything that
interested me. In the closet were more clothes that she still had to see if
they fit. Soon, we were both in various states of undress. Clothes went on
and clothes came off. All the time, we chatted and commented on what seemed
to look good on me and whether something still fit Rachel's pleasantly
plump body.

At one point, Rachel tossed a nice-looking bathing suit my way. I decided
to try it on and for the first time since we started, I stripped completely
naked. I didn't think anything of it and neither did Rachel at first, but
then I noticed she glanced down below my waist and said, "Oh."

I looked at her quizzically.

"You're hairless," she said after a brief hesitation.

Suddenly I felt myself blushing and stammering slightly as I tried to
casually explain that I had shaved my pubic hair as a lark a while ago, but
liked it that way now. I didn't mention that I also like to rub scented oil
on my smooth mons as a prelude to masturbation, one of my secret pleasures
of a single woman.

"I haven't seen anyone hairless since I was a girl," Rachel added as she
continued glancing at me. "Would you mind if I touched it. I'm curious how
it feels."

The question took me totally by surprise. In the micro-second it took me to
answer, I found myself unexpectedly bewildered by the fact my first thought
wasn't "no."  Instead, I found myself worried that a negative response
would somehow embarrass Rachel for being so inquisitive. And so I shrugged
my shoulders and murmured, "Okay."

Rachel reached down and gently stroked her fingers lightly across the top
of my pubic mound. She smiled and said, "It's so smooth. I wouldn't have
thought it would feel like that."

I would have responded, but I felt like I had been hit by an electrical
charge. The sensation of her fingers on my most private body part was so
intense that my answer choked in my throat, cutting off any response. She
touched again, this time lower, and now my pulse was beginning to race.

Perhaps ten, maybe fifteen seconds had elapsed. Rachel's moment of
curiosity was over. The incident was at an end and it was time to return to
trying on clothes. But instead, Rachel's fingertips touched once more, like
butterfly wings, across the lips of my vulva. She glanced at me. I'm not
sure what she saw. I felt bewildered, but I must have looked excited or
curious. What I saw in Rachel's eye's was a burning look that spoke of both
suddenly discovered desire and fear that she had transgressed too far.

I continued to say nothing. The sound of my heart pounded in my ears and I
felt hot, so hot I thought I was going to faint. Rachel's fingers moved
again, slowly, first up and then down over my softening, swelling lips. I
felt moisture slip into place and when she brushed her fingers once more, I
knew there was no going back. She too felt my wetness and realized she
received the signal she was looking for.

We were standing just inches from each other. Rachel was still in her
pants, but earlier had taken her shirt off, so she was just wearing a
bra. I remember looking at her, not her eyes so much, but her neck and
below to where her breasts began to swell out.

I've seen many other women's bosom and cleavage and have never responded
sexually to it. Yet, I found myself staring at Rachel's breasts, wrapped in
her bra, but looking so alluring, so erotic. Rachel was slightly bent
forward so I could see them hang forward like fruit for me to pluck and
hold. I had this intense desire to touch them, lift them from the bra cups
and hold them in my hands, to finger her nipples, feel them grow rigid.

Not a word was said now; the silence was deafening as I absorbed the
intense sensation of just two fingers fluttering with ever-increasing
pressure against the lips of my vagina. My wetness increased rapidly and it
wasn't long before her fingers were rubbing the inside of me, moistening
the hood over my clitoris, bringing its pebble size to erect excitement.

The only sounds in the room was of our breathing, so shallow, yet sounding
so lustful, along with the wet, smacking sound of Rachel's fingers now
probing deep inside of me. I could feel the orgasmic plateau coming towards
me, too fast it seemed, like a rushing wall of water. There was no stopping
it now. I felt my muscles begin to lose control. If you have every
masturbated or made love standing up, you know that feeling. The legs go
rubbery, the thigh muscles shake, and the blood rushes from the head to the
loins and leaves you light-headed.

I leaned against the wall as the moment of rapture overwhelmed me. My
throbbing vagina seized Rachel's long, curved fingers and squeezed them as
my legs buckled and the most intense orgasm swept outwards from my vagina
to engulf my whole quivering body. Rachel glanced into my eyes as I
orgasmed. I don't think I said anything. Maybe I gasped, maybe I sighed. I
don't remember. It was utterly wonderful and thrilling at the same time. I
felt like we had just had the most intense love-making session ever, and
yet she had just touched me with her two fingers.

The silence continued for a moment longer as the waves of pleasure
continued to roll through my body until I finally swallowed and managed to
meekly speak. "Oh my," was all I could muster. Rachel let her fingers slide
slowly out of my aching vagina and I noticed her hand was now shaking. At
once, I knew everything had changed: my desire for Rachel, my desire to
make love to a woman. It was a new sensation, but it burned brightly within
me. And it burned within Rachel as well.

The End

Comments are welcome. Please send them to Chrissy Larkin at
larkin47@hotmail.com