Pulling a Felicia


"A razor?!" Allie had never thought of such a thing up to that moment. "Why? It's only hair! All grown-ups have it."

"Not the ones who take care of themselves," Corri had insisted. "I've seen it myself in my father's magazines. They're nice and smooth down there. It's beautiful. Not like Felicia!"

"Are you gonna shave when you get pubic hair?" Allie had asked incredulously.

"If I have to, yes!" Corri had said. "And you will too if you know what's good for you, Allie! You want guys to think you're a lesbo or something? No! We need to look clean! We'll never pull a Felicia, or at least I won't."

And from that day forward, Corri and Allie had always vowed to never "pull a Felicia". Corri needn't have worried about it, as it turned out, since even as an adult (physically if not mentally, Allie thought with a bitter flair now), she was nearly hairless down there. She sometimes shaved even what little she had, or so she claimed, but she could easily get away without shaving and still wear the skimpiest bikini at the pool if she so desired. Allie, as Corri had so thoughtlessly reminded her that day, was not so lucky: she had to fight for her hairlessness. Shaving, Nair, waxing -- she had tried them all at one time or another. No option was much fun and they never kept the undergrowth away for very long, but at least Allie could keep up with her friend for an afternoon at the pool or the beach when it came to that.

Allie did wonder from time to time just how hairy she would be if she ever did "pull a Felicia." She guessed she would probably look a lot like the aunts and older cousins she had once idolized back in New York, whom she had even seen tucking a stray hair back into their swimsuits once or twice without complaint, and amazingly she had once looked forward to being grown up like them. But across those ten years and change since that summer of Felicia, Allie had never given up the war on the bush. Not even in winter when there was no chance of anyone seeing her in a swimsuit. The hair was just too uncomfortable growing back, as was the possibility that she might meet a cute guy at a party and be poorly groomed for the occasion. And so her natural look remained a mystery even to herself.

As she let herself into the quiet house that afternoon, Allie could not put away the nagging question -- just why had she let Corri continue to have that influence on her all these years? She had been shaving and plucking and waxing and so forth for so long that she no longer thought of it as any great inconvenience...but now that she was thinking of it, it was an inconvenience. Time consuming and often painful, and there was nothing quite like razor burn on her vulva of all places, to say nothing of the itch when the hair grew back. And it was something men never even thought of doing!

The more thought Allie gave it, the more irritated she became. But now that she was home and apparently alone, the tide was turning from anger to defiance. And then to a sense of naughty adventure as the full realization -- she was going to a nudist colony with Craig and Eddie! -- sank in.

Allie found a note on the kitchen counter with some cash: Mom and Dad were off with friends for the afternoon and evening, and she was to treat herself to dinner out. With her brother off at spring track camp, that gave Allie the house to herself for the foreseeable future. Just as well, for her thoughts of Corri and Felicia and the upcoming Nude Day adventure now had her feeling defiantly horny.

After stopping by the freezer for a spoonful of chocolate ice cream, Allie retreated to her room. The same room she had grown up in from age nine, it had telltale signs of having been her space at a much younger age, as well as having been vacant most of the time for the past four years. With the same goofy pastel wallpaper she had chosen herself back when they had moved in -- now full of pinholes and scotch tape marks from various long-gone photographs and posters, and the white dresser she had so loved still standing majestically across from the bed, it felt like a half-open time-capsule to Allie. Usually she disliked that feeling of the past not quite left behind. But now, with the last ties to her youth about to be cut, she welcomed the memories that sang out from every corner and wall. Tucked into one corner of the mirror was the one lingering photograph she hadn't been able to bring herself to put away when she had left for college: Corri, Eddie, Craig and herself at homecoming senior year. Who ever knew life would get any better than that party? But of course everything had changed since then. College will do that to you, she knew now.

Allie gazed at the photo now, recalling the innocent thrills it never failed to bring to her memory, and without fanfare, she undressed. After locking the door just in case her parents got home early, Allie opened the suitcase she was living out of for break, and dug out her vibrator. She kept it well-hidden from even her closest friends, ever since Corri had spotted it while they were home for Christmas two years ago and had condescendingly proclaimed, "That's what guys are for, Allie."

That memory only made her all the more eager to play with it now, as she began to realize the fullness of her victory over Corri that afternoon. Before settling herself on her bed, Allie looked at herself in the full-length mirror on her closet door. She was in great shape thanks to basketball and soccer and the lousy food at school that kept her appetite low: thin, toned, and hairless everywhere below the nape of her neck -- a seven-year-old with breasts, Allie thought rather bitterly. But she smiled at the thought of what was to come in June. If Corri was so very proud of never being at any risk of "pulling a Felicia," surely she would get over her insecurity soon enough. As for herself, Allie concluded, she had two months to pull a Felicia if she so chose. And in that moment, remembering her admiration for her cousins and aunts and Felicia and her distaste for Corri and the guys' attitude, she knew beyond any doubt she did want to go natural.

After one last hard look at her reflection to imagine herself with a full bush, Allie brought her toy back to her bed and lay back on the stacked pillows with her legs spread. She switched it on and let her daydreaming take over. There were cute guys aplenty from college and there would be many more this summer and beyond who were a blank canvas for her to imagine for now...but in keeping with her current fascination with her old friends, Allie's thoughts drifted to Craig. Craig the bad boy, the proudly sexist little twerp whom she nevertheless loved because they had grown up together. His bulky, solid body had always looked so delightful on the football field back in the day, and four years of Division 2 ball had kept the fat off. If Allie hadn't known him for so long, there would have been no indication at all that he'd had any weight problems as a kid.

Of course, she had known him back then, so she did know his past. She could even recall Corri explaining it in no uncertain terms during their summer of swimming lessons with Felicia: "I didn't use to think Craig was so fat, until I saw him in a bathing suit. Now I see he's so fat his belly hangs out and covers up the front of his bathing suit!" That nasty observation had been followed by a hearty laugh that Allie, to her shame, had joined in on. But Craig had grown up and shaped up, and gone on to become a terror on the field and a hunk in a tux at the prom, and spending every other slow-dance in his arms (as they alternated with Corri and Eddie) had been such a thrill, especially with all the cheerleaders looking on enviously at Craig's nerdy friend taking up their space at his side!

Although that night and others like it had always been perfectly G-rated in reality, now Allie imagined a very different ending as she rubbed the vibrator firmly up and down her shaven vulva. A hotel room somewhere, parents delightfully absent and Corri off with Eddie or some other guy entirely...Allie straddling him as he sat up on the bed, her dress undone in back but still mostly on as she pushed his coat off his big, square shoulders and unbuttoned his shirt, years of never-spoken passion now bursting forth for both of them...

"Babe, I've got something to tell you," she heard him say.

"It's okay, Craig. I knew you when we were kids, I know you used to be fat."

"You don't know what I look like underneath now, though. I'm not perfect."

"Neither am I, Craig! It's okay!"

"Yeah, but you were never fat!"

"So what? I have my own deep dark secrets."

"Oh, you do? What?"

"You'll just have to get my dress off and see for yourself, silly! But if you don't like what you see, remember, I have my issues too, just like you do with how you used to be fat."

"That's sweet, babe. I promise I won't judge you."

And she saw him proceeding to peel her dress away carefully, and somehow it came off gracefully to reveal Allie's lacy lingerie, the bottoms of which had no chance of concealing her full, natural bush.

Craig was speechless. "Oh, Allie!" He fingered her pubes reverently, gently. "So hot! So natural and beautiful! Man, that's something else."

"Well then let's get you off with your clothes too!" Allie saw herself, still clad in her strapless bra and panties, now pushing him back on the bed and tearing his shirt open while he reached back and did away with her bra. As he drank in the first-ever sight of her breasts and she exulted in the pleasure the view so clearly gave him, Allie lost no time in tugging his pants down to reveal his tight boxers and his hard cock straining against the button. With a joyous pluck, she opened the button to see it burst out, thick and hard and ready, with a teasing thatch of his own pubes coming out with it.

Allie felt her first orgasm come on just as she imagined pulling his boxers off to reveal his treasures completely. Then, standing before him at the foot of the bed, she saw herself follow suit with her panties and give him an uninhibited look at her natural, full-grown self. The second wave washed over her even more intensely than before, and she imagined herself sauntering around to climb into the bed with him. Shutting her eyes tight now, she imagined Craig's hands all over her body, his usual sexism gone in the heat of the insecurity she had so expertly defused and his shameless love for her natural beauty. As they ground into one another, Allie imagined the fireworks she had believed in back then, and though she had long since learned it was all so much nonsense, the idea delighted her now. Old friends turned lovers, insecurity turned to sexy adoration, all channeled into the most intense of love...

Allie roared out loud with her third and biggest orgasm, and then went limp on her bed just after switching off the vibrator. An immense sense of well-being washed over her and she curled up, still nude, for a nap.

She didn't know how long she was asleep, but the sun was still out and the house was still quiet when she awoke. Sitting up, Allie thought about all she had imagined. Knowing now that Craig would more than likely not react like that and that she would probably not sleep with him if given the chance anyway, the luster was now somewhat worn off. But the thought of what she saw herself looking like did still delight her, and the idea that some great guy would surely appreciate the natural earth-mother look she envisioned for herself remained a beautiful hope. Did she really want to go through with her new plan?

Allie stood up and walked into the bathroom, where she found her pink disposable razor on the sink where she had left it that morning. Holding it in her hand, she took another look at her bare body in the mirror. Did she really want to do it? Was she strong enough to withstand the attitude she knew Corri would dish out on the matter? Did she in fact invite that? And just what was she going to grow out? Bush only, or legs and pits as well? The latter thought repulsed her at first, but slowly the idea took on a certain appeal, an in-your-face rejection of the crazy beauty standards she had been striving towards all those years without even really thinking about it. It definitely appealed to her sense of independence and it offered a certain natural beauty, but was that really what she wanted?

"In for a penny, in for a pound," Allie said out loud, and she tossed the razor in the wastebasket.

A rainy final weekend ensured there were no further afternoons at the pool to give away Allie's new secret, and soon she was off back to school. With six weeks to graduation and a lot of work to be done and goodbyes to be said before then, there was little time to worry about her grooming or lack thereof. Late March was cold and drizzly as usual up North, the workload was heavy as usual, and of course the impending round of goodbyes was hanging over Allie's head and those of all her friends, but she was glad to have the time left with them. Any second thoughts or anticipation about Nude Day could come later, after the exams were done and the farewells were said and she had her diploma in her hands.

Indeed, for the first week back, she gave it no thought at all except for one issue: the itching.

She noticed it first on the plane, when there was little to do but sit and wait -- and itch. As the stubble pushed through for the first time ever in her armpits and on her legs, that too-familiar scratchy feeling seemed to envelop her skin -- and the knowledge that there would be no shaving this time intensified it. As for her pubes, the added taboo of just where the new hair was made it all even worse. Allie closed her eyes and imagined herself being dipped in a bathtub full of lotion to ease the discomfort, but it did little good and there was nothing for her but to try to focus elsewhere.

Allie suffered in silence at first, for although it was a progressive, anything-goes campus, the idea of being seen with hairy legs took nearly as much getting used to as the itching did. But of course, that was part and parcel of what she had signed on for. As the days went by and the relentless itch didn't go away, Allie slowly but surely let her curiosity overcome any bashfulness about her new look-in-the-making. It was Friday of the second week back when she finally broke down and asked her friend Steve, who had sported a beard since sophomore year, about the matter. "Steve, when you stopped shaving, did your face, you know, itch at first?"

"God, yes!" Steve said. "Hated that. I can't tell you how many times I almost decided against growing it out because of that."

"How long did it last?" Allie was wiggling one leg, both out of nervousness and itchiness.

Steve looked thoughtful for a moment. "Dunno...a week? Maybe two? It did go away, obviously, so I guess I don't remember that so well." Then, with a quizzical look, he asked, "Why were you wondering about that of all things?"

There was no point in trying to hide it forever. Allie stepped back and pulled her skirt up to her knees, revealing the dark, sharp slivers of hair now making themselves known all over her legs.

"Nice!" Steve said, with a thumbs-up. "I didn't think you were the type, Allie."

"You like it?" Allie was shocked; Steve had always seemed rather conservative to her.

"I do! It shows real individuality, if you ask me, besides it's natural and, you know, open-minded."

Allie surprised Steve with a hug, and from that moment on she was a bit bolder in her plan.

She wasn't entirely sure what he had meant by "open-minded," but knowing Steve, it was probably something at least vaguely sexual. And while Allie couldn't be sure there was a direct relation, she had in fact been feeling quite horny lately. Maybe it was anticipation of the big day in July, maybe it was the delicious apprehension of just what she would look like when the hair grew in, maybe it was the constant itching between her legs (which, while not pleasant, did draw and keep her attention down below), or maybe it was just the stress that came with finals and saying goodbye. But in any case, her mind was running wild throughout those itchy weeks.

As March melted into April and at long last the discomfort subsided, Allie's hunger only grew. This was at least partially because Allie was coming to realize her fond memories of her older cousins and aunts might have been even more on the mark than she had thought. Maybe it was genetics, maybe it was that years of shaving had made the hair grow back thicker and fuller, maybe some combination of the two; but every time Allie undressed for a shower, she found herself looking more and more like a true bush queen. Nothing like the dainty thatches of hair she had seen in art books or girlie magazines or even the other women in the locker room who didn't shave, Allie seemed to be well on the way to not only pulling a Felicia, but surpassing Felicia.

"Perhaps we should have said Felicia was pulling an Allie," she thought with a mixture of embarrassment and titillation one evening as she stood, hands on hips, and examined her large and still growing bush in the mirror. Thick and curly and a shade or two darker than the hair on her head, it spread out gracefully onto her thighs, the stray wisps seeming to tickle her pale flesh there. From the top of the triangle, a few stray strands wound their way upwards toward her belly button. "Treasure trail" was the word she'd found for that on the Internet, and she found it fitting: an unavoidably noticeable tease of what awaited a would-be lover down below, even if she could manage to hide herself in a pair of panties, which she knew all too well by then she couldn't.

On that note, out of morbid curiosity, she got out the maroon bikini in which she had looked so enticing to Craig and Eddie only weeks before, and slipped on the panties. The resulting sight of tufts of hair peeking out every which way from behind the bulging strip of fabric made her laugh as she imagined herself wearing it in public now. It also suddenly made her very horny as she assessed the appearance of her pussy making itself known so loud and clear through her pathetic attempt to hide it, a naughty secret she could never hope to keep.

I'm pulling a Felicia all right, Corri, she thought with haughty pleasure. With that, it was off with the panties and Allie lay back on her bed with her fingers teasing her hungry clit, now buried so deeply in her forest of curls, and let her mind run wild. She was Felicia now, or rather she was her own natural self in Felicia's place, all set to teach a dozen or more men to swim. There she stood before them on the poolside, in an elegant white one-piece swimsuit that couldn't nearly conceal her secret; it showed through the fabric just as Felicia's had, and a bit on each side as well.

Welcome, gentlemen, my name is Allie and I'm sorry I'm overdressed for the occasion, but as you can see I can't wear a bikini...

Allie rubbed harder and breathed heavily at that line. Something about that self-deprecating confession and what it implied without saying it...I can't wear a bikini, but look at what I can do to your dicks......sure enough, every guy in the pool was rock hard, admiring her bush. Better yet, maybe they were all naked in the water, and she was too, up there on her perch where they could all admire her body! She recited the line again silently, I can't wear a bikini, and came with a wonderful grunt.

After a nap and some studying, Allie knew the time was right for her first, step into public in her new natural state. It could, of course, be a modest, tentative one for now; but the time was definitely right to start. She was overdue for a shower, as was so often the case that late in the semester. She had never thought anything of wrapping herself in only a towel for a walk to the shower before. But she had never had hairy legs on those occasions either, and the growth on her calves had been as robust as on her vulva. Reminding herself of other firsts where the world hadn't come to an end -- the first day in school after getting braces on her teeth in the fifth grade, the first time she'd worn a bra, the first time in a short skirt, and each and every one of them no worse than a moment's embarrassment followed by everything being back to normal -- Allie wrapped the towel around herself and stepped out into the hallway.

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