Elizabeth 01: An Introduction

That same twinge leaped up delightfully into her throat as Elizabeth opened the door and entered the pool area. Like the thrill of a roller-coaster drop or being frightened in the night, the discomfort was soon replaced by a pleasant relaxation as she received a warm welcome from the ladies, most of whom already knew well her secret. As Elizabeth descended joyfully nude into the water, there were the requisite hellos and greetings and welcomes.

"Nice to have you back," one of the older ladies said knowingly, able to guess why Elizabeth had been absent recently.

"Nice to be back!" Elizabeth said sincerely. "Ahhhh, the water feels wonderful today."

"Doesn't it, though," said a younger bath-mate, Lindy, who worked not far from Elizabeth and sometimes lunched with her during the week. Her hair was tied up, safe out of the water as usual, and her pert breasts bobbed majestically just at the water level, also as usual. "Perfect bath weather, isn't it?"

And so went the small talk that would soon descend into meatier matters indeed, once the new and honoured arrival was eased into the conversation.

This time, it was one of the few women who had not seen Elizabeth in the bath before who broke the ice and ended the small talk. Her name was Irene and she was a teacher at Elizabeth's old school, not senior enough to remember her as a student but well-connected enough in Westfordshire City society to be aware of her reputation in and out of the bath. Seated across from where Elizabeth settled herself, she suffered the affliction Elizabeth recognized so quickly: inability to look away from her new companion's lush triangle.

"Hello, Elizabeth," she said, "I'm Irene."

There was a moment's deadly silence, broken by none other than Elizabeth herself, who was the first to laugh. Once it was recognized as safe to do so, most of the other ladies followed suit. Slowly it dawned on Irene that, for all the warm greetings, no one had called Elizabeth by name. They all knew that she, Irene, had recognized Elizabeth by her pubes!

Irene laughed too, but she also turned red as a pomegranate. "I'm so sorry!" she said sincerely to Elizabeth, forcing herself to look in her eyes rather than at her body.

"It's quite all right," Elizabeth assured her. "I've had far worse reactions, my dear."

"She knows how beautiful we all think she is," reassured another of the older ladies across the pool.

"Don't I, though?" Elizabeth mused happily. "That's what I love so about the baths. All of us so free to be ourselves."

"Especially you," said Lindy.

Indeed Elizabeth did not mind. Recognition, she had long since concluded, was not bad, and it would be a lie to herself if she tried to believe she did not welcome the tacit approval of those who were so fascinated with her hairiness. Only one woman had ever had the impertinence to say out loud what all the guests thought the first time they saw Elizabeth in the bath. It was an older woman, only an occasional guest to the bathhouse, who was well known around town for not being quite right in her mind. Elizabeth knew as much. So she kept her feelings to herself when the woman saw her descending nude and uninhibited into the bath, and then looked at her brightly and said, "You've got a beaver on you, you do!" Elizabeth had only smiled and nodded, keeping her annoyance to herself, but the other ladies in attendance had gasped and looked outraged at the older woman. Elizabeth would always recall with satisfaction that the impertinent lady was never to return to the baths. Elizabeth herself had not complained, but someone had obviously said something on her behalf. It was, she supposed, then that she knew the ladies were on her side.

On this occasion, none was on anybody's side in particular, and the conversation turned to a comparison of notes on the latest gossip as it was often wont to do. "I say, Elizabeth," Lindy piped up, "You came to my mind the other night at the pub. Do you know Jonathan, the new lawyer's clerk at Thompson's?"

"I've not been formally introduced," Elizabeth told her, a hopeful twinge stirring in her heart as she recalled seeing the young man from afar at a recent cocktail, his wavy blond hair offsetting a delightfully gentlemanly countenance.

"Nor he to you," said Lindy's companion whose name Elizabeth could not recall. "The scene we witnessed the other night made that clear, didn't it, Lindy?"

"My name came up, did it?" Elizabeth was nervous now.

"Hardly!" replied the friend. "It's because your name didn't come up that we knew he didn't know you!" Several of the other ladies laughed, and Elizabeth sensed that they had heard the story prior to her arrival. Irene, she noticed, was virtually alone in her more apprehensive look, and Elizabeth gave her a look of grateful solidarity.

"My word, you're rude!" Lindy reprimanded her friend. "But she's right, Elizabeth. Jonathan was riding high after a few too many glasses of wine the other night, and some of the other men were after him for the news on a lady he'd been the night with. At least he had the decency not to name her. But he wouldn't say much good about her either. And the men were asking all sorts of impertinent questions, were her breasts too large or her nipples to rigid, and finally he's had enough and he says she was too bare down there!" Several of the other ladies laughed nervously. Irene looked nearly ready to cry. Lindy's friend who had mooted the topic to begin with took no mind, and continued the story. "And Lindy and I took one look at one another and we think, well, we know who he'd be right for!"

"But none of the other men mentioned your name," Lindy reassured Elizabeth. "Either none of them knew you that way or they were just too gentlemanly."

"Too gentlemanly, them?" the friend reacted. "Heavens no, Lindy, of course they didn't know her!"

"In any case," Lindy continued. "Jonathan is there, struggling to regain his dignity after what he's just said, but the others aren't letting it go. One of them finally says, 'Jonathan, if that's what concerns you, you must have your pick of the litter back home,' and Jonathan says actually no, she was his very first. Can you imagine sharing that in a bar with ladies there!"

"But he did!"

"But he did. And I'm thinking, well, then, I won't sleep with you either for you'll only be disappointed."

"With that colour hair on his head I bet he has precious little on his cock," piped up Eunice, a middle-aged single lady who still enjoyed an active dating life. "Boys like that never do."

"I thought as much as well!" Lindy agreed. "In any event, then the other men spent the rest of the evening trying to talk him into bagging another of us girls, anyone in the pub who might be interested. But he's gone all shy and will have none of it, and the poor dear looked ready to cry by the time they cleared out of there!"

"I had a good mind to offer him a sympathy lay," said Lindy's friend. "But he just looked too feminine for me anyway."

"You should be glad you weren't there in any event, Elizabeth," Lindy continued. "He might be happy with you, but he seemed an absolute child. Surely you can do better than that."

Through all this banter, Elizabeth listened patiently, a chilly smile pasted on her face, for something about being nude in company made her never want to look angry even if she was. In her mind, though, once again she was the poor little girl whose mates had attacked her so mercilessly for her appearance in her most vulnerable state. Her heart ached for the gentleman she didn't know, though she couldn't be certain the outrage wasn't partially fed by a thrill that such a handsome young man would surely be attracted to her. "Well of course he seemed a child, Lindy," Elizabeth finally said. "He shares an embarrassing secret and his friends only tease him about it?"

"Oh, lighten up, Elizabeth," Eunice said.

"Lighten up! My dear, I know how it feels to have an embarrassing intimate secret! You all know I do. Little wonder that poor man reacted the way he did! And for what it's worth I did find Jonathan quite attractive on the one occasion I saw him. Had I been there and comforted him, though, I've little doubt you ladies and the men who know how I look nude would have showered the both of us with inappropriate comments. Shameful."

She took a deep breath and resolved to relax and tune out the conversation until it turned to matters less hurtful -- she had, after all, come here to relax in a safe atmosphere. After a few moments of deathly quiet, Eunice found some cause to discuss the latest shipment of fabric at Miles' Department Store, and the others pretended to be interested. Elizabeth looked gingerly around, and none made eye contact with her -- except Irene, who offered a knowing, empathetic smile and squeezed Elizabeth's hand under the water. Elizabeth squeezed back, and a friendship was forged.

An hour or so had passed, and several ladies had gone and been replaced, when Elizabeth felt thoroughly rejuvenated and recovered from the earlier altercation. With polite returns of the evening, she stood and hoisted herself out of the bath. Unapologetically as ever, she strode nude back to the locker room. Leaving was never as electrifying as arriving, as her nudity had always lost its shock value by then and her lady-garden did not look nearly as large or prominent when it was wet. But Elizabeth looked happy as ever as she left the pool room. She was always careful to look that way, and rarely had to fake it. The earlier outrage having faded, there was little need to fake it this evening in any case.

There was even less need to feign happiness when she opened the locker room door and took one last look behind to see Irene following her. "You're ready to go as well?" she asked pleasantly.

"I am," Irene said as they entered the locker room and helped themselves to fresh towels from the stack. Irene immediately began drying off. Elizabeth followed, making no effort to hide her interest in Irene's body now that she could admire it up close and dry. She was virtually the opposite of Elizabeth in every way: blonde hair, narrower hips, bigger breasts, and of course far less pubic hair; but she seemed just as comfortable with her nudity as Elizabeth was with hers, and Elizabeth loved her for it. As well, she loved her for having been the only one to show any solidarity with her in the earlier altercation.

Elizabeth looked a bit too closely for a bit too long before remembering her manners. "I'm sorry, Irene," she said, politely looking away towards the lockers. "I did not mean to stare at you!"

"It's quite all right, Elizabeth!" Irene reassured her. "If I were uncomfortable with seeing and being seen like this, I wouldn't have come here. Besides, I admired you too in the water, and just before. I love how you carry yourself in there."

"Well, thank you, Irene!" Elizabeth opened her locker and, patting off the last of the dampness from her legs, began pulling her stockings on.

"And I'm really sorry about the way I knew you!"

"That's fine, Irene! As I said, I've heard much worse. I'm used to it and I'm not ashamed of the way I am. And thank you for not joining in with the other ladies with all their nastiness for that poor Jonathan."

"That's actually why I left when I did, Elizabeth," Irene said, opening her own locker behind Elizabeth's. "So I could talk with you about that. Jonathan is my cousin."

"Oh dear heavens, I'm sorry!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "It must have been excruciating to hear them talk about him so!"

"It was," Irene admitted. "I didn't know most of those things about him, of course -- it's hardly something one brings up at the family dinner table, after all -- and I just wanted to cry when they went on about him like that. And what I wouldn't like to do to the men who teased him at the pub!"

"You and I both, Irene," Elizabeth agreed. "I'll tell you this, whoever they are, I wouldn't go out with a one of them." With a naughty, knowing smile, she added, "Now, Jonathan, I would. It sounds like he's my type."

"I believe he is, Elizabeth," Irene told her. "I mean, not -- you know, your pussy, though evidently you are his type that way..." she allowed a laugh, which Elizabeth shared. "But I mean, I think you'd make a good match with him. But the way he was treated the other night, I don't know that he's going to give the night life any more chances. And it's so unfair, he really is a nice boy."

Elizabeth had an idea, inspired as much by the prospect of a lonely winter just around the corner as by Jonathan's attractiveness and her likely attractive ness to him. "Irene," she said, "Do you think you could prevail upon Jonathan to come to the pub for Saturday's festivities?" she asked. "I'd like very much to meet him there."

"Oh, Elizabeth," Irene said. "I'd love to have the both of you together, but I don't know that I'll ever get him to the pub again.

"If we could promise to teach the men at the pub a lesson, perhaps you could."

Irene thought about it as she buttoned up her blouse. "I shall try," she finally said. "But do be gentle with him? He's young, you know."

"Now you're starting on the poor dear!" Elizabeth dissolved into laughter, and Irene followed suit.

On the streetcar home, Elizabeth did her best not to daydream too much about Jonathan. She'd seen him that once only, and had liked what she'd seen, and she'd loved what she'd heard about him tonight, but still she didn't even know him! And yet, being several months since her last fling had ended and the weather was turning so cold of late, it was the perfect time for another. Especially with a man she knew would appreciate her unique feminine charms. Oh, for the thrill of undressing with a man she knew in advance would love her all the more for that! Such an experience had been all too rare even after she had come to accept herself.

The mansion was mostly dark on her return. The lady of the house gave her a firm hello look as she made her way past the sitting room. Poor dear will never trust me completely, Elizabeth thought as she swept up the two flights of stairs to her floor. If only she knew what a complete gentleman the mister was. Elizabeth would never have slept with him in any case, for he was too old and too fat and he stank of gin and cigars for the most part; but the point was moot, for he had always treated her with utmost respect as the tenant and employee she was. The arrangement certainly suited Elizabeth, who mostly kept to her huge bedroom when she was home but had access to the common rooms on the floor as well except on the rare occasion when they were necessary for a guest.

On that evening they were not in use by any guest, and the hall was deserted as Elizabeth found her way to her room. The room was cold when she let herself in and switched on the electric lights; but the servants had stocked the fireplace as she had requested, and Elizabeth had a fire lit in no time. A delightfully warm sleep was only minutes away. But Jonathan was on her mind, and her curiosity about the young man was too piqued for sleep to be an immediate option. The room being too cold to address her longing just yet, Elizabeth gathered her toiletries and walked barefoot down the hall to the water closet. There she relieved herself, washed her hands and face, and cleaned her teeth for the night.

On her return to her room, the fire was burning at full force and the first promising waves of warmth were spreading throughout the room. Still a bit chilly, but knowing that would soon change, Elizabeth undressed again. After stacking her clothes on her armchair to be laundered on the morrow, she lay nude on her bed and indulged in the goosebumps that would soon disappear as the room continued to warm up. Her fingers were cold on her well-hidden feminine glory, but that only increased her titillation as she rubbed herself gently and imagined Jonathan drinking in her beauty and she admiring his. Her abundant pubic hair felt just as lush and thick as it looked, and the anticipation of his reaction only added to her delight as she pleasured herself. A deeply satisfying orgasm was not long in arriving, and then Elizabeth was under the covers and off to sleep.

Three nights later, a drier but chillier evening yielded a healthy turnout among the young revellers at the city's premier club. The barroom beyond the lobby was in full force with friends indulging in weekend merriment, but the lobby itself was only sparsely populated when Elizabeth blossomed forth through the door. She wore a forest green velvet dress with white trim whose flared skirt reached but halfway down her calves. More daring hemlines were available in Westfordshire City, but Elizabeth was not entirely without modesty, and in any event the streetcar ride from the mansion had been a chilly one. She vowed she would prance around the city bare-legged one day, but tonight she had donned black stockings against the chill.

Despite the weather, once again Elizabeth had decided against any underpants. She had gone back to wearing her usual short pants beneath her skirt on Thursday and Friday, and found as usual that they looked horribly pedestrian and even masculine -- acceptable on a night when she returned to her room alone, of course, but tonight called for something racier. And Elizabeth, for all her adventurousness when it came to men, owned nothing appropriately racy. The occasion had seemed a perfect one for the ruffly leotard-style undergarment she had so often longed to purchase from the lingerie shop where it had been on display all through autumn. But once again the thought of her pubes showing on both sides had discouraged her, even given the rumours about Jonathan's tastes. Despite her rediscovered pride in her body, Elizabeth was firmly of the belief that some things must be either fully on display or fully hidden. So it was that she had donned her laciest brassiere followed by her favourite black silken chemise, but left her lower body bare but for the dress. The lack of any waistband, she had decided, made for a deliciously smooth curve of the soft but tight fabric over her robust behind in any event. Whatever the outcome of tonight, Elizabeth told herself, she must be sure to remember that for the next night on the town.

A few of the men loitering near the barroom door knew Elizabeth -- one of them in the biblical sense, though she would not be allowing him that pleasure again -- and the ladies mingling with them included a couple of familiar faces from the baths. Elizabeth exchanged polite hellos and waves with them all during a cursory look around the lobby for Irene and Jonathan. Neither was there. Elizabeth reminded herself to be patient; after all, she had arrived rather early. But the anticipation of the past few days had been building tremendously, and she was now afire with longing for the evening to begin at last. First things first, she checked her cloak and joined the others outside the barroom door.

"Elizabeth, darling!" called a young woman who looked only vaguely familiar. Elizabeth finally recalled her name: Katherine, a frequent visitor to the baths. "You haven't joined us in some time!"

"It has been too long," Elizabeth agreed, kissing her friend on the cheek. She was tickled to realize it took her a moment to recognize Katherine with her clothes on, and a bit envious that Katherine had had no such trouble. It was, however, a pleasure to learn that some of the ladies knew Elizabeth by her face as well as other parts of her body. "Everyone looks so lovely tonight, I must make an effort to come more frequently."

"Should indeed, Elizabeth," said Katherine's companion, Fred, joining the ladies. "Should've been here the other night, for starters. Some poor sap named Jonathan made an utter fool of himself. You'd've gotten a good laugh out of it all, you would."