There it is. Breaking the ‘nice girl’ image. This topic came up in one of my discussions a while back, and though I haven’t heard a lot of girls voice it outright, I know it’s a big issue with many. Of course, they could just go out and get laid and get some ‘experience,’ but being a slut is even worse than being a nice girl. So what can they do? They can develop their own sexual self, not as a means to an end but as an attribute of their own nature. They can gain something real that’s a part of who they are.
I’ve pondered quite a lot about whether I, as a man, am qualified to discuss this topic, and I’ve wondered whether or not it’s even appropriate. But I’ve seen this play out several times with women who are close to me, and I understand well enough what happens. That being the case, and considering I’m in a storytelling state of mind at the moment, I’ll simply tell a story and let my readers glean what they will…
Here she sits, on her bed. She looks around her room, her little oasis in her parents’ home. There’s a painting on her wall, a painting of a Victorian woman in a dress, sitting on a swing in a dark and empty garden, looking down at the ground as if she’s sad.
She thinks about how much she’s like the woman in the painting. Her life is dark and empty. Alone, she sits waiting for… something… anything to help her out of her cage.
She’s 22 years old, and her friends all have boyfriends, some are having sex, some even have husbands. But she’s a virgin, and that means a lot to her. Guys just look at her as the little ‘nice girl.’ She feels as if she’s a china doll sitting on a forgotten shelf with a huge ‘Do Not Touch’ sign on her forehead.
One day, she reads a blog article from some weird old guy talking about how she can break out of her shell, and she gets an idea. After work that day, she goes to the lingerie store and sees rack after rack of outfits that make her wince.
‘Yeah, I’ll look great in these,’ she thinks sarcastically to herself. ‘Just like a porn star.’
She keeps looking, and eventually she finds a reasonably conservative teddy that she thinks she might like, buys it, and goes home to her room.
With mixed feelings, she puts on the teddy and looks into her mirror. She immediately notices that she doesn’t look like the model on the label. She doesn’t fill out the top, and what boobs she does have are noticeably sagging. Her waist isn’t as narrow as she would like. Her hips look wide, and her butt looks huge. Her short legs are only emphasized because her thighs look too big under the super short hem. Not to mention, her skin isn’t exactly smooth and tanned, and there’s a lot of it showing in this little outfit. Disappointed and fighting back a sob, she takes it off, buries it in one of her drawers, and tries to forget about it as she falls asleep.
A week or so later, she’s mostly over the experience, though it never completely has left her mind. One day after work, she thinks, ‘Maybe I was just being too critical. Maybe I should try it on again…’
A few moments later, she’s standing in front of her mirror, pulling at the teddy here and there to make it fit right. ‘Yeah, I suppose I’m kinda cute in this.’
She decides to wear it around for a while in her room. After all, who will see it? A while later, she lays down on her bed and falls asleep wearing it.
A flower appears in the garden.
The next day, she comes home and finds herself a bit more eager to wear the teddy. Then the next day, and the next. One day at work, she thinks to herself, ‘I wonder what I’d look like with some new makeup? Maybe some new hair accessories?’
So she runs to the store over her lunch hour and buys some new makeup – bright makeup that she would never wear out in public.
The next few weeks find her watching makeup tutorials, trying new looks and styles, experimenting to find what she likes the best.
‘I like how this makes me look. I like how this makes me feel.’
Roses and other flowering bushes begin to appear as the garden begins to take shape.’
Always in the back of her mind, though, she feels sad that she’s learning so many new things about herself, making herself look so pretty and mature, yet there isn’t anyone she can share it with. She must keep it all hidden away in the safety of her room.
One day, she thinks to herself, ‘Why? Why do I need to keep it in my room?’
So she starts to think of ways she can leave her room and still be this new woman she’s become. ‘I’ll just get something sexy to wear under my normal clothes.’
She soon finds herself buying and wearing some girly bras and panties, and she becomes confident enough to start wearing her new makeup and styles in public. It isn’t at all as scary as she thought it’d be. Deep down, she knows she’s a desirable woman, and that gives her confidence.
The garden is now fully in bloom.
Crush: ‘Hey, great party, right?’
Our Girl: ‘Yeah!’
Crush: ‘You look great, by the way. There’s something different about you. Can’t place it.’
Girl:It’s probably what I’m wearing under this… *That thought sends a faint gleam to her eye and the tiniest smile to her lips*
Girl: ‘Thank you.’
Crush: *Notices the gleam*
Crush: *Notices some dark bra lace peeking from her neckline*
Crush: *Notices lacy panty line through her otherwise respectable slacks*
Crush: Yeah, there’s more to this little gem than meets the eye. This might be worth exploring.
Crush: ‘So, how about if we go out to eat sometime? Friday sound good?’
And so our hopeless little ‘nice girl’ grew into a woman in the privacy of her humble room. She didn’t have to give up her virginity, and she didn’t have to have a man ‘teach’ her how to be sexual. She found it within herself, she nursed it and grew it into something beautiful, something she valued in herself. She had something more than just a primal urge to have sex. She had something real. She had her own mature sexual nature. And eventually, it was something she was both excited and confident to share with a very lucky man.