I admired skirts and petticoats from afar for a while, never to think I would experience them. I lived admiring them, but my desire for them grew and grew.

Then, one day, it happened. I was at home alone, when I noticed my mother’s taffeta dress and large bell petticoat just laying there. I tried to fight the urge; after all, these things were for girls, right? But, I gave in, and began rubbing against them. I did this for five minutes, until I needed more. I took them into my room, and two minutes later,
I came out, dress over petticoat, and put a t-shirt over the dress to cover up my sensitive shoulders.

It was heavenly.  I moved around for a while, feeling the soft edges on my legs, the light air movement under my skirt, and listening to the petticoat, the largest I had ever seen, rustle around. I eventually learned how to walk with my legs in a way as not to have the skirt touch them when stepping, and how to hide the petticoat when sitting.

Then, I made one of the greatest decisions of my life. It was lightly windy out, so I stepped outside. The heavenly feeling shot up to the sky, and the wind began lifting up my skirt, chilling my exposed legs. I did this many more times, and it felt heavenly each time. Yet, nothing will ever feel as great as my first petticoat encounter.

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