For a Girl by J.T. D'Arelli (classic literature books TXT) 📕

At least with my racing briefs, I got to wear panties underneath. But now there was only a single layer of Lycra protecting my... girlhood from view. And I truly had cleavage, to boot — more than any of the other young women at the party. I felt almost naked!

Then I spotted Hal. My heart jumped a little as I saw him for the first time since our kiss last night. He stared intently at me, smiling and serious at the same time. I understood where he was coming from. He genuinely cared for me as a person, a friend. But he was a healthy male, and looking at me as I was now dressed was inevitably causing a response. I couldn't stop my eyes from gazing at his crotch, and even his baggy trunks couldn't conceal the erection rising within.

My body was responding, too. Just the knowledge that Hal wanted me was reaching deep into my newly female psyche. And he looked very good in his own right. Very good. Unbidden, my mind recalled one of my fantasies I'd been pleasuring myself with. Hal, on top of me, gently kissing my breasts while I reached down to stroke his...

All of this happened it about 30 seconds, as we just stared at each other. My nipples felt as if they would burst through my top. Sue and Becky came up to us then.

"Break it up, you two," Becky said.

"Should we get you a room?" Sue teased.

I literally had to shake myself out of the erotic trance I'd fallen into. Jesus! And to think I'd thought boys were the hornier gender. I made the rounds, meeting the rest of the group — mostly Sue's cheerleading friends. Arleen was there too — I'd prevailed upon Sue to invite her.

"Nice suit," she smiled at me — a devilish look in her eyes.

I actually blushed as she discreetly looked me up and down. Getting checked out by a girl had taken on a whole new meaning for me.

"You, too," I responded. She was in a light-blue one-piece that highlighted her generous curves. "I'm glad you came. Are you having a good time?"

"Strangely, yes," she replied. "Sue always did have a friendly crowd, and there's some real eye candy here." She chuckled slyly.

"You got that right!" Becky said, as she arrived in time to hear Arleen's last comment. I had to hide my smile — she had no idea where Arleen's real interests lay. In fact, as I noted Becky's pretty yellow bikini, I could see Arleen was very entertained.

I continued the rounds, smirking inwardly at how all the boys manfully attempted to keep eye contact with us girls as we mingled. They were good guys, trying their best to behave — but our skimpy bathing suits sure didn't make it easy for them.

That was the power I spoke of earlier — the one I'd acquired with my girly new body. And that defined the difference between how the boys and girls dressed. I considered the guys in their baggy swim trunks, hanging down to their knees. And then I considered the girls — in our high-cut, skin-tight bikinis — with the fabric pressing tightly against our smooth crotches. Our chests barely contained. Proving our femininity in the most obvious of ways. In fact, while our bikinis seemingly concealed our breasts and our vaginas, all it really did was draw attention to them.

Just the opposite of what I used to be. Girls were the ones who wore the short skirts, the sexy tights, the clingy dresses. We were the ones who put our bodies on display, not the guys. Although a naughty part of me longed to see Hal wearing a bikini bottom. Still, at least his chest was bare — and quite nice to look at. Smooth, flat, lightly muscled. Oh yes...

I damn near fell into another trance. God, this was incredible! I was drooling over my best friend's body — a guy I'd been showering with for years. Uh, oh. Don't go there. I struggled to banish images of a naked Hal, dripping wet, from my mind. Struggled to dismiss thoughts of his long penis, dangling as he dried off — a penis that I'd love to have pushed deep into my...

Fortunately, Sue called us into the water for some games before I could embarrass myself again. I quickly dove into the pool, and was horrified when my top started to come off. While underwater, my heart racing, I managed to secure it back across my chest. Whew! Being a girl offered many more opportunities for embarrassment.

I'd been lucky to stay underwater as long as I did, because I was far more buoyant than ever before. And not just my extra body fat. I was mesmerized by the sight of my breasts bobbing in the water — as if they wanted independence from my body and to go drifting off on their own. And of course, the chill made my nipples rock hard. And here I was thinking that the pool would offer some protection. Ha! The other girls were in a similar boat, so to speak. The guys were in heaven, as to be expected. Just as I would have been a week ago.

We horsed around in the water for the next half-hour or so. We had classic 'chicken-fights — boys on the bottom, girls on top — trying to tip each team over. I partnered up with Hal and struggled to push Sue, Becky, Arleen and the others off their 'mounts'. I wasn't used to my new position and Hal and I were tipped more often than not. We didn't complain, though — every time we fell into the water, Hal took the opportunity to discreetly caress some part of my body. My breasts, my legs, my butt — whatever was handy. After fifteen minutes, I was so erotically charged I starting falling into the water on purpose, just so he could grope me some more.

We switched games, which was for the best. Although I was continuing to pleasure myself at night — I was still very leery of getting too aroused in public. Big Mark Williams (aka BMW) was impressing everyone with how far he could toss a girl across the pool. I was stunned at his strength as he gently picked me up and swung me ten feet through the air to splash down in the deep end. God, he made me feel like a little doll! Fun ride, though.

We finished in the water and grilled hot dogs and burgers. I still felt immodestly clad in my sexy bikini and I wanted to put on a T-shirt. But the other girls stayed in their suits, so I did the same. After another hour of conversation, laughter and the occasional fall into the pool, we began to wind down. I noted with interest that over time I didn't mind showing so much skin as I did before. It seemed more natural to be dressed like this. I guess I was just getting used to another aspect of life as a girl.

Eventually, we banished the guys. There was lots of good- natured protesting, but they headed to their cars with high spirits as we followed them to say good night. I walked with Hal to his car, and then I went for it. I felt an electricity run through my body and I seemed to lose all control. I put my arms around his neck, pulled him down, and kissed him deeply. This time I was the aggressor — pushing my breasts against him, thrusting my tongue into his mouth. I could feel his erection rising as our bodies pressed together. Oh yes...

"Okay you two. Ten more seconds and then we're breaking out the hoses." Sue said laughingly. Hal and I looked deeply into one another's eyes, then we reluctantly parted. Unbelievable. One week as a girl and I was nearly ready to have my best friend make love to me. Nearly. For the thought of making love as a girl (for real, not a fantasy), was simultaneously the most wonderful and the most frightening thing I could imagine.

But I now knew it was going to happen. And soon. My body's needs were overwhelming me — and I also craved the emotional bond I was forming with the guy. I wanted him.

There. I said it. What's the big deal, anyway? I'm just a girl who wants her guy to make love to her. What could be more normal than that? Why should a little thing like 'I used to be a boy' be an issue? It certainly wasn't for him.

And it was becoming less of an issue for me, too.

On the way back in, I noted Becky and Mark (BMW) saying good night rather intimately. I smiled as the cute girl stretched up to give the big man a quick kiss. He blushed and drove away. Now that was good news. I still felt guilty about Becky and Hal, even though she'd been so cool about it. Mark was a nice guy and if he and Becky could make something happen, I was sure it would be good for both of them.

I headed upstairs to get changed. I opened the bag my mother had set up for me to get out my nightshirt. But it wasn't there. Instead, she'd packed a very frilly pink nightie. I pulled it on, the fabric gliding sensuously across my skin. And stopped, stunned, as I realized it ended at my hips. Now wait a minute. How come this nightie was so short? I reached back into the back and pulled out a matching pair of pink ruffled panties.

Oh, no. This was no ordinary nightie. This was a set of baby-doll pajamas!

There was a note in the bag.

Dear Stephanie,

I loved to wear baby-dolls when I was a girl — now's your chance to join in on the fun! This one's a classic style from the 1950's. You're going to look so adorable in it. Don't worry — the other girls will be delighted.

Love, Mom

Frantically, I searched the bag for something else to wear. No luck. My mom had planned well. Like it or not, I was going to have to parade around in front of everyone dressed in the silliest, most ultra-feminine outfit possible.

At least the guys were gone. Although, as I pulled on the matching lace panties, a part of me regretted Hal's absence — I'd love to see the look on his face if he saw me wearing this!

God, the panties felt nice! Snugly wrapping my hips in a lovely layer of ruffles and frills, just wearing them made me feel girlier than ever. The hem of my top was so short, my panties were sure to show to one and all. Which of course was the whole point of baby-doll pajamas — a girl was extra-cute when her pretty underpants were on display. This was the most explicitly feminine garment I'd worn to date.

Last week, I would have looked ridiculous dressed like this. Now, I looked adorable. Just like my mother had said. With the puffy sleeves, empire waist and bare legs, my baby-dolls made me appear youthful and innocent, and yet somehow sexy and tantalizing at the same time. I sighed at my mother's deception and made my way downstairs — with more than a little trepidation.

I needn't have worried. Mom was spot-on with her prediction of the other girls' reaction. They were delighted — far from laughing at me, they almost seemed jealous they weren't dressed the same way. I kept getting comments on how 'retro chic' the outfit was and how I was turning into more of a girl than they ever believed possible.

They got that right. And so began our slumber party. I quickly learned to dismiss all the classic male fantasies about such events. We didn't give each other spankings, nor did we practice kissing with one another, nor did we strip to our underwear and have a