Soon, I must have caught on because she was nodding herhead in approval frequently as we danced. The record changed to anotherfast song, and we kept dancing. I kept looking down at my pleated skirtto see if it was flaring out as I remembered Linda's doing before.Satisfied that it was and that my slip and stockinged legs would bevisible underneath, I continued to dance in a kind of dreamy state withthat image, but this time of ME, in my mind.After a while, Linda suggested that we should have a bite to eat. Wewent to the kitchen where she made some lunchmeat sandwiches and softdrinks and placed a straw in each glass. As we sat at the kitchentable, she reminded me once again to gather my skirt under me and toonly cross my legs at the ankles or the knees while always keeping mylegs together. She gave me constant instruction to be sure that I tooksmaller bites and used my hands in a more girlish manner and made everymove much more girlishly. As we ate and chatted, I couldn't keep myself. We would see each other at weekends, but it was never enough. If indeed the circumstances of our upbringing had created in me an underlying, repressed sexual desire for Jenny, then what is clear now is that the urge first surfaced a few weeks after our sixteenth birthday. I’d gone with Jenny to visit her friend, Molly, who had invited us to go swimming in her parents’ pool. Molly and Jenny were already splashing around and having fun, when I went to slip into my trunks, and it was at that point I noticed a pile of clothes on the floor, on top of which were two pairs of dirty panties. Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself sniffing and licking at the moist juices of both pairs, not caring that one pair belonged to my sister. Since the incident at the pool, I’d taken every opportunity at weekends, when Jenny returned home, to dig her panties out of the dirty laundry basket. Of course, I knew what I was doing was wrong, but that just made my heart pound all the harder as I.
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