Shy Virgin's Fear Becomes Joy

Traveling to join her parents for the holidays, 18-year-old Denise is befriended by Pauline, an elegant 38-year-old professional photographer. Heavy snows disrupt the young woman's travel, and she accepts an invitation to stay at the other's cozy forest chalet. Upon entering she is shocked to see examples of the photographer's work – tasteful pictures of very naked young women.

After dinner and a shower, sitting together in robes before a warm fire, Pauline sympathizes with the young woman's frustration at having found neither romance and intimacy. A little later, she asks the beautiful Denise to pose for her camera on the fur rug . . .

This story's outline and many of its details were inspired by a 20-year-old young woman in the Netherlands who enjoys my fiction. She concluded her detailed letter with, "60 percent of this actually happened to me, and I fantasize about the remaining 40 percent . . ." I hope you are as taken by it as I was.

This one's for you, Denise, who reignited the creative fires.

The story's REAL title (which doesn't fit Literotica's template):

Love and Intimacy – Denise's Joyful Holiday Discoveries

Unable to find an empty compartment on the old fashioned rail carriage, Denise tried to select the least-incompatible companion for the two-hour train ride. The young woman was heading north to join her family for Christmas at their lodge in the forest. She looked forward to relaxing following a hectic week of final exams at the end of her first semester at the university. Also, after four months of living away from home for the first time the 18-year-old was excited about the coming reunion with her family. One of the compartments was occupied by an elegant but friendly-looking woman who looked to be in her upper 30s. Denise saw she had a large bag of camera equipment, which was interesting, so she entered.

"Are these seats free?" she asked.

"Oh yes," the woman answered with a smile. "Please, make yourself comfortable." She settled in and, after a moment in which the two strangers accustomed themselves to the other's presence asked about the camera equipment.

"Are you a professional photographer?"

The woman smiled again and said, "Yes, I do free-lance work for magazines and web sites." Reaching out her hand she said, "By the way, my name is Pauline . . ."

"My name is Denise. It's a pleasure to meet you." Denise noticed that Pauline listened to her words with a concentrated focus that was flattering and made the girl immediately warm to the woman. She was pleased to have apparently done well in selecting a traveling companion.

The train began to move. Pauline asked, "Are you going all the way to Haute Neige?"

"Yes, my parents have a lodge and we always spend the holidays there."

The woman nodded and gestured toward Denise's book bag, bursting with ponderous textbooks. "You must be a student, or maybe you just enjoy curling up with a warm and fuzzy calculus text?" Her beautiful gray eyes glistened with humor, and Denise laughed.

"Yes, I just finished my first semester. I don't know what to do with these books! They cost a fortune, and are worth a fraction of that once used, so I couldn't stand to sell them. But no, I won't be diving into any calculus anytime soon . . ."

This launched a conversation about the pleasures and frustrations of college life. Pauline listened with that same undistracted focus, and recounted similar experiences from her time in the academy 15 years earlier. Before long the two were laughing together and thoroughly enjoying each other's company. Denise was excited at the feeling of having made a new friend, despite the difference in age, maturity and sophistication, and she was flattered that the older woman apparently shared that feeling.

It came out that Pauline was unmarried, and had lived an interesting and gainful life filled with varied experiences. Denise was fascinated and impressed. She learned that Pauline also had a pied à terre near the village of Bois Blanc, about 30 kilometers from her parents' lodge, where she would spend some of the holidays

The train entered the scenic forest region that was the destination of both. The trees were heavily laden with fresh-fallen snow. Dusk was falling when the conductor knocked and slid open the compartment door.

"Young lady, you are going to Haute Neige?" he asked Denise.

"Yes . .?"

"I am very sorry, but heavy snow has blocked the line and the main road until tomorrow. Everyone will have to leave the train at Bois Blanc. The railroad company will have personnel there to help passengers make alternative arrangements . . ."

"Oh, dear," said Denise.

Pauline sensed the girl's distress and shook her head in sympathy. "Oh, I'm sorry your plans are upset, dear. But look, why don't you stay with me tonight? There's plenty of room, and I have no plans at all."

Denise shook her head and said, "Oh no, Pauline, I wouldn't want to intrude." She actually wanted to say yes, but because of their vast difference in age and sophistication suddenly felt uncertain.

"Don't be silly, it would be a joy to have you. You can call your parents, we can make dinner, have some wine, and have great fun together! Actually, I have so enjoyed your company that I was sad about to having to part so soon."

The woman was so obviously sincere and pleased at the prospect that half-a-moment's thought brought Denise from anxiety over disrupted travel plans to excitement at the prospect.

"Oh, thank you Pauline. Yes, I too did not look forward to having to cut short our time together. You have been so kind and interesting. Are you sure?"

"Absolutely, Denise. Really, this is marvelous!"

Denise smiled and agreed. Pauline leaned forward and gave her new friend a little hug. "Wonderful. If you get bored you can always read some calculus . . ."

Denise laughed and rolled her eyes. "Please, not that!"

The train arrived. Pauline said she had ingredients for a peasant's stew in her freezer and they could get fresh bread at a bakery next to the station. Denise agreed that sounded delicious. Despite the heavy snow the local roads were clear and it was just a ten-minute taxi ride to Pauline's house, which was a charming chalet in a lovely, secluded wooded setting. The lower level comprised a spacious open living, dining and kitchen area. A large, comfortable looking couch faced a fireplace, with a luxurious fur rug in between them.

Denise would have immediately felt right at home - except for one little detail. Displayed throughout the rooms were beautiful photographs of young women, some partially dressed, others fully nude. It seemed very likely that these were pictures Pauline had taken. They had not discussed the nature of her host's photography work, but that now became embarrassingly clear.

However, the photos were so tasteful that Denise had to acknowledge they were hardly objectionable. And - without being explicitly aware of it, she actually felt a hint of forbidden excitement at the thought of her new friend posing scantily clad or even naked young women and making them look beautiful in photographs . . .

Pauline led Denise up to a small but comfortable spare bedroom on the second level, inviting her to settle in while she herself started preparing their dinner. When the girl rejoined her friend Pauline was putting the stew on a low burner.

"I hope you're not starving because this will take a while," Pauline said. "But we can have a glass of wine and talk while it cooks. Let's sit on the couch and I'll start a fire."

"I'm a little bit hungry but not starving," Denise reported. "A glass of wine sounds lovely."

"Starting a fire" meant turning a switch to ignite gas logs that provided most of the ambience of a wood fire without the inconvenience. Outside it was dark and snowing, but inside the bright and warm chalet provided an oasis of comfort and cheer. The women settled happily onto the soft couch with their glasses.

"Tell me Denise - do you have a boyfriend?"

The young woman shook her head. "No, I just haven't met anyone that interests me. I thought the university would be a horn of plenty in that department, but no. I have some wonderful girlfriends, though, and we have a lot of fun when we're not studying."

"Oh, that's nice," the older woman said. "Still, you are a very beautiful young woman - the men must be checking you out."

Denise blushed but was not displeased at the compliment. She knew she wasn't bad looking, but hearing this far-more sophisticated woman call her "beautiful" was highly flattering.

"Thank you, Pauline. Well yes, there are men, but you know, most of them just want one thing, and hardly care about who a girl really is inside – only what she looks like. And what she is willing to do with them . . . Oh, sometimes I find the whole thing almost depressing."

"I know what you mean. Men!" Pauline harrumphed.

"What about you, Pauline? I know I'm not bad looking, but you are really beautiful. You said you're not married - have you ever been?"

"Oh, you're sweet, Denise. No, never. I realized long ago I just don't have 'the fire in the belly' to go in that direction. I have no regrets - I love the life I live, and wouldn't change a thing."

The pair fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments, and then Pauline rose to give the stew a stir. When she settled back onto the couch Denise noticed the distance between them was much less than before. After a little wine and the talk of romance they seemed to share a new feeling of intimacy, like girlfriends willing to tell each other everything.

"So you have not met any men at college. Have you ever had a close relationship?" Pauline asked.

"No, never. It's not that I don't want to . . . I just never felt that way about anyone." The girl's frustration was apparent.

"Denise, don't hesitate to tell me it's none of my business, but have you ever - been to bed with another person?"

Denise was embarrassed at this and blushed deeply, but like all their exchanges the question was asked with such good-will and sincerity that it was impossible to take offence. Actually she was glad for the opportunity to pour out her fears and uncertainty to her new friend.

"Oh I don't mind you asking, Pauline. I'm just not used to talking about it. No. I'm a virgin, and I don't really know what to think about that. Sometimes it makes me crazy to think that there is a whole world of – intimacy – and I am missing it. And . . . I know I'm young but I AM a grown woman and have – desires – but not for anyone that I've ever met. Does that make sense?"

"Oh, it absolutely makes sense, dear . . ." Pauline leaned forward and gave the girl a sympathetic hug. "At your age I had exactly the same feelings and doubts and frustration and curiosity."

"But you don't feel that way now?" Denise asked tentatively, hoping to gain insights from her older and more sophisticated friend, but again self-conscious about that difference in age and maturity. Pauline gave the girl's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"No, I don't feel that way now. I have experienced the joys of sexual intimacy. I don't want to embarrass you by saying too much, but if telling about myself helps you feel more comfortable and confident it would give me great pleasure to do so. But – I think that our dinner is about ready. What do you say we take a break and come back to this afterwards?"

Following a satisfying meal during which they discussed lighthearted matters Pauline offered to clean up and invited Denise to take a shower and rejoin her afterwards. "There's a gigantic fluffy bathrobe in the drawer next to the sink," Pauline told the girl. "I'm going to get out of these clothes and into a robe myself, so why don't you put that on and when you're ready meet me back on the couch."

Denise was a bit self conscious about the prospect of hanging out together in bathrobes, but she did feel grungy after a long day. Back in her room she unpacked some toiletries and toothbrush, figuring she might as well get all ready for bed while she was at it. Then she undressed and savored a long hot shower in the luxurious bathroom, so much nicer than the communal facilities of the university dormitory. After the shower she took time to brush out her long, slightly wavy blonde hair.

The bathroom had full length mirrors, and another feature as well – more of those beautiful photographs of nude young women. Denise could not help but to compare her own image in the mirrors with the girls in the photographs, and was pleased that she came off quite well in the exchange. She was slightly taller than average, with long legs and full, womanly hips that carried not a gram of excess flesh. Her breasts were the size of cantaloupes, "more than a mouthful" in a phrase she had heard her school friends use, but not so large as to inhibit physical activity. She worked out regularly, maintained a sensible but not abstemious diet, and the results showed.

Her grooming complete she found the robe and slipped it over her nakedness. Again she felt self-conscious about appearing before her new friend in a semi-undressed state, but she also felt something else: A devil-may-care excitement at the idea, stimulated by her inspection of her own charms, the photos of other nude young women, and the thought of Pauline taking those photos. She did not stop to analyze this frightening feeling, but instead just forged "full speed ahead" and back down to the comfortable living room and fire.

Pauline was already seated on the couch, and beamed a welcoming smile at her new friend. As promised she too had slipped into a robe, a gorgeous silk Japanese one, deep red with striking embroidered designs. The color provided a perfect contrast for the older woman's medium-length dark hair, and Denise admired the way the garment revealingly hugged the other's attractive figure. Pauline was a few centimeters shorter than herself, and slimmer with narrower hips and smaller breasts.

Despite the fact that she was twice Denise's own age the woman clearly took very good care of herself, because physically she was a knockout. Her face was gorgeous too, with full lips and high cheekbones. It barely showed the effects of almost four decades. Those beautiful grey eyes were so full of good humor that you couldn't help liking her, but they also contained the merest hint of sadness.

To all this beauty was added a sparkling and sympathetic personality, with the result was that Denise found her emotions roiled by some very confusing feelings. For an instant she had this wild impulse to wrap her arms around the woman and hold her close, but of course that was crazy . . .

Pauline readjusted herself to face the girl, and Denise's heart skipped a beat when in doing so the woman's silk robe parted for an instant, exposing a broad expanse of silky white thigh.

"Oooh, you look all comfy and cozy and scrubbed pink in that big robe," Pauline effused. "Gosh, your hair is just gorgeous. Sit here and let me feel it!" Denise did so, and Pauline ran her hands through the younger woman's still-damp locks. "Wow – you are lucky to have such beautiful hair!"

The girl was a teensy bit shy at the woman's touch and compliments, but felt warmed by them as well. "Thanks, Pauline. Gosh, that robe of yours is amazing! I've never seen anything like it."

Pauline preened a bit showing it off. "Isn't it? I saw it in a Tokyo store on a trip there, and even though it cost a fortune once I touched the material I had to have it! Here, feel . . ." She held out her arm.

"Oh, I see what you mean." Denise said, stroking the fabric – and the arm beneath it – a bit more than was strictly necessary, indulging a little the strange impulse she had felt a moment before, and acutely aware as she did of the warm female body the garment contained. "Gosh, that must feel delicious on your . . ." She stopped, realizing that she was about to say something more intimate than she intended. Pauline laughed:

"On my naked body! You bet!" Pauline laughed. "That thought occurred to me back in that store in Tokyo!" With this outburst of humor the slight tension that had been generated by the new experience of not being fully dressed in each other's presence evaporated, and again the two became fully comfortable together. So much so that Denise summoned up her courage and posed a question she had been itching to ask:

"Pauline – those photographs . . ." she indicated a trio on the fireplace mantle that featured beautiful and fully nude young women in sensuous poses and settings. Suddenly she was embarrassed and blushed furiously, but pressed on: "They're your work, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are. And yes, Denise, most of my professional work is in the same – genre. Do you like them?"

"They're – very beautiful . . ." Denise said reservedly.

Pauline laughed: "Very naked, you mean. I know, I hesitated to display them, but they ARE beautiful, and I'm proud to have made them. I'm so used to them I forget they make some people uncomfortable. I'm sorry if they make you uncomfortable, though."

"Oh, no . . . I mean, yes, I was shocked at first, but you're right – they are very beautiful, and you should be proud. Yes, I'm glad you display them."

"Thank you, dear. Now - I promised to tell you more about myself, if you want me to . . ." Pauline gave the younger girl an inquiring look.

"Yes, I do want to hear, if it's not too private. I mean it's none of my business . . ."

"No, I'm happy to share, I just don't want to embarrass you by saying too much. But when you described your feelings and frustrations involving men and the desire for – intimacy – well my heart ached because when I was your age I had exactly the same feelings and – lack of experience.

"I don't want to pretend that because we had similar feelings we are alike in other ways, so don't get this wrong, but I'll tell you what 'broke the dam' for me: I met a woman."

Denise had sensed this coming, and although she was not terribly surprised all of a sudden she was terrified. But she was also fascinated, and – thrilled. She knew she should stop the conversation right now, but she couldn't make herself do so. Pauline sensed the girl's acute discomfort and paused.

"Do you want me to tell you more, Denise? I understand if you don't, and it doesn't change a thing between us – I still think that you are wonderful, and that won't change no matter what."

Denise could barely speak. She licked her lips and nodded. "No, please. You can tell me. I mean, I'm not sure, but I think I want to hear . . ."

Pauline took the girl's hand and gave it a little squeeze. "Alright, dear. I know you can't help being shy. Anyway, I know how hard it can be at your age when you suspect there is some big wonderful secret out there that everyone else knows. And you wonder if something is wrong with you . . . and - Oh, God – been there, done that, you can KEEP the tee shirt!"

"Thanks, Pauline. OK, I'm better now. I was shocked when you first said that, but I know there's nothing wrong with it and no reason for me to feel that way. So yes . . . " she paused and smiled mischievously, "My 'prurient interest' is peaked, if that is not too out of line."

Pauline laughed, and those sparkling grey eyes poured out reassurance and encouragement, and suddenly it WAS alright, and Denise was eager to hear more. She wriggled a bit as if to settle in for a dramatic story, and affected a look of wide-eyed expectancy. Pauline laughed again, and began.

"In the summer after my first year at university I was lonely and miserable and frustrated and unhappy. The woman who lived in the house next to my family's - her name was Margaux - was about the age I am now. She was an artist, and divorced. I just plain fell in love with her, and she really cared about me, too.