NOTE: This is a sequel to my story "Pulling a Felicia". Reading that story first, while not absolutely necessary, is strongly recommended as it contains a lot of background on the protagonist and how she got where she is now.
It was a hopelessly dark November day when Allie decided the time had come to brave the university pool.
She was nudged a bit, to be fair. But the gloomy city afternoon was perfect for a racy pick-me-up, and so Allie was open to being nudged. She was especially open to an invitation by shy Scott from Torts, one of the few first-year law students who made a point of dressing up for class like Allie always did. Retiring but quietly friendly, he had become one of Allie's closer friends through their very hectic first semester, and he had always been welcome eye-candy in his sweaters and crisply ironed slacks in those precious free moments just before and after class. Whenever she found herself awash in a room full of colleagues in old college sweatshirts and jeans, his presence – no matter how far across the room – always provided Allie with relief from any concern that she was overdressed in her own preppy clothes (which she suspected he also enjoyed admiring). But for all that, they were still only fairly casual friends when he approached her after class that day. There simply hadn't been time for a great deal of intimacy.
Naturally, then, Allie was as surprised as she was delighted when he approached her while she was zipping up her backpack. "Hi, Allie," he said, sounding just as nervous as a teenager asking a girl to dance for the first time.
"Scott, hi!" Allie replied with a smile she hoped would put him at ease. "Say, I love your sweater!" He was wearing a particularly smart forest green number that wrapped itself ever-so-tightly around his slim abs, as sexy as it was warm on that chilly day in the drafty old classroom. "I wish there were more of us who dressed up for class."
"Thanks! You're looking great too, as usual." Allie was wearing a blazer and turtleneck and gray slacks, actually one of her plainer outfits for wearing to class, but the day had begun as a fairly plain day. "Anyway," Scott continued, still looking rather nervous. "A few of us are meeting at the pool at four today for water polo. I thought I heard you mention last week that you'd been meaning to try out the pool one of these days, so if you'd like to join us..."
At this, Allie felt her heart bounce into her throat and back again. It was true, she had said that, and she really did want to brave the pool one of these days, and it was not as if she had anything to be ashamed of...but with Scott? And who knew which among the other guys in their class? To say nothing of the female classmates who would discover her secret in the locker room?
Stop it, you've got nothing to be ashamed of
, she said to herself.
He might even like it, and if he doesn't, good riddance!
"Sure!" Allie said. "It's perfect weather for that, isn't it?"
"Exactly what we were thinking this morning," Scott said. "So, see you at four?"
"You sure will," Allie said, smiling through the mild panic that hadn't quite passed. She was dying to ask who else would be there. But it was too late for that to matter, and besides, she reminded herself once again, any problem the others might have with her was just that – their problem. She had gotten all that out of the way a year and a half before on her visit to the nudist camp with Corri and the guys, when nearly everyone except Corri had embraced her look. It was a welcome she had never forgotten, and a clean break with her nasty childhood "friend" that she had never regretted.
That final fling with her high school friends, while extremely memorable, had not exactly been life changing. It had, however, inspired her to gain a great deal of confidence in her body, and life since then had only strengthened that confidence. It had given her the resolve to ditch her boyfriend Jim the year before, when he had pestered her to shave her pussy. The poor guy had tried to hide his repulsion on seeing her nude for the first time – he'd tried, but he had failed – and it had only gone downhill from there. It was Sunday brunch at the end of their first weekend together when he'd asked gently but firmly if she would consider getting a Brazilian.
"Absolutely not," Allie had said, already thanking her lucky stars that the sex had been no great shakes.
"But the bare look is so sexy, Allie!" he'd whined. "And I've heard it feels better for the woman, too."
"Which part feels better, Jim? The pouring hot wax on the most sensitive part of my body and pulling the hair out afterwards, or the itching when it grows back in?"
"No, I mean, you know, sex when you're bare! It's supposed to be a lot better."
"It isn't, Jim. I've tried it. For years I tried it, and I'm never going back. I'm comfortable with being natural and furry – in fact, I love it – and I'm never going through that pain and that hassle again. End of story."
The jerk had paid for her brunch and kissed her cheek and mumbled something about calling her when they both knew he wouldn't. And, thank heavens, he never had. Though her feelings were hurt, Allie already had already known then that there were plenty of men out there who would appreciate her thick, full bush. Perhaps, she told herself now, Scott would be one of them. Or one of the other guys who would be learning her secret that afternoon. With a plucky smile, she tamped down the butterflies in her stomach with a reminder that she was not the one who had anything to be ashamed of.
Besides, a bit of male attention would be nice after having her nose buried in law books for the prior two months. Allie was anything but boy-crazy, and the past year and a half on her own had taught her that she was perfectly capable of being happy with her own company. But the memory of Craig and Eddie and their adoring reactions to the sight of her full glory at the camp was a welcome ray of light against the lousy weather, and she was certainly overdue for some more fun.
Allie had, even before the big day with Craig and Eddie and Corri, come to think of it as marking the end of her childhood and the gateway to adulthood. Of course she had been twenty-two years old, but visits to her old hometown had always had a sense of unfinished business to them up to that crazy day. Spending a day naked in public followed by sex with her two best high school friends had certainly been effective in slamming the door on her innocence once and for all. And life had been pretty good since then, if mostly chaste by comparison. Two weeks later, she had come back up North for her coveted internship at an up-and-coming law firm. A summer of tireless work had paid off in the form of a job-offer, and she had spent the next year being paid handsomely for work she enjoyed.
A glowing letter of recommendation from her boss and better-than-expected LSAT scores had inspired her to shoot the moon on law school applications, and she had landed a coveted slot at a Top Ten school. Whereas many of her classmates there had come straight from undergrad, Allie's year of work meant she had been able to splurge on a wardrobe of smart blazers, crisp blouses, tailored pants and pleated skirts while most of her new friends showed up to class in jeans and sneakers. Though she sometimes felt overdressed in her fancy attire – which she privately called "nerdychic" – she exulted in the sense of maturity and far remove from her casual Southern teenage years that it inspired. Allie was a city girl now.
And while she knew perfectly well that she did not dress up just to attract guys, she was quite pleased that it had that effect as well. Scott in particular, as he had always struck her as a nice guy. Shy, but the shy guys were usually the best once you got through to them.
Of course, Allie mused on her walk back to her room a few blocks off campus, when Scott saw her in her swimsuit, she would get through to him all right. One way or another!
She had bought the suit shortly before she graduated from college, only weeks after her decision to go natural. Upon her realization that her natural state was that of a true bush queen, and her accompanying, delightfully naughty, oft-repeated mantra "I can't wear a bikini," she had concluded that some more modest swimwear was in order. And so she had purchased the bright red, one-piece suit, complete with a skirt for modesty. But on her first and last visit to the college pool in her new suit, she had quickly discovered that the skirt did nothing for her modesty. It did flow out gracefully enough to do its job while she was actually swimming. But when she stopped to stand in the shallow end or tread water in the deep end, it floated up and out of the way every time, revealing her abundant pubic hair to anyone close enough to look her way. No one had commented on that occasion, and Allie had also been sporting hairy legs at the time in any event; but she had been very much aware from that day onward that a trip to the pool meant her I-can't-wear-a-bikini secret would be revealed.
Of course, the hearty welcome she had received at the nudist colony had been a great help to Allie in overcoming her reticence about such things. But although she had come to embrace her natural state wholeheartedly, she remained self-conscious about it with her new friends. The unceremonious rejection from Jim hadn't helped, though she never doubted that she was better off without him. For that reason, though the university sported an Olympic-sized pool with convenient hours for busy students, Allie had never ventured there to date.
You never had any intention of hiding in your clothes forever,
she reminded herself now.
It had to happen sometime, and you're not the only one who'll be self-conscious about your friends seeing you in a swimsuit!
That last point was one she had repeated time and again every time she had nearly overcome her shyness about the pool before, and it rang as true as ever now as Allie arrived home and dropped her backpack in its usual spot in the corner. When that point still didn't quite put out the pangs of nervousness that continued to smolder within, she came up with another oft-repeated point.
