Hi Domai fans,

As well as the big promotional gallery on the right, I hope you will also enjoy this issue's real-life story, and the wonderful illustrations to it, which I had made by commission to American illustrator/artist Adam Markiewicz!

Letters To DOMAI

Dear DOMAI

The stories I have read here at DOMAI are often about that wonderful occasion when a boy or young man first appreciates the beauty of the fairer sex.  When I see the Pretty Young Girls depicted here, I can't help but go back in my memory to such an event in my own life.  This story goes more than 50 years into the past.

I was the youngest of four kids.  My sister Annie was the oldest, she would have been about 18 at the time.

One morning during summer, both my brothers were away at Boy Scout camp, my parents were both gone for the day, so Annie and I were at home alone.

"Come on, squirt, let's go shopping," she said, "I need some things." She always called me "squirt," and still does to this day.  It was a hot, sticky summer day, so I was happy to go into town, where some of the stores even had air conditioning.

So, we walked to the bus stop on the corner and rode into town.  We got off and walked to a store, where a small crowd of women and older girls stood waiting.  The sign over the door read "Lipsky's Dress Shop.  Fine Apparel For Ladies."  A large banner in the window read "SALE!  One Day Only!"

In a few minutes, the sign on the door which had read "Closed" was flipped over to "Open," the door swung wide and the crowd surged in.

Annie kept my hand gripped in hers as we entered the store until she saw a chair near the cash register, and she said "Wait there, I'll just be a few minutes."

"Hello, Mr. Lipsky," my sister called out, and the elderly man behind the counter nodded kindly at her.  "Hello, Miss Anne,"  he said softly.  Mr. Lipsky looked very old and a bit frail, although I realize now that he was probably in his sixties, not much older than I am now.  I was surprised that my sister knew this man who was strange to me, but I was in for a number of surprises that day.

I should say that this was the 1950's, and women's clothing was not then what it is now.  Women wore dresses, and they dressed up when they went shopping.  High heels, hats and gloves were still common when ladies went into town.  Teenaged girls usually wore skirts that covered their knees, blouses, and shoes with socks– penny loafers or saddle shoes were very popular.

What was under those clothes was a mystery to me, until that day in Mr. Lipsky's shop.  It was a very small shop, and mostly full of racks of dresses, from floor to ceiling.  In fact, from where I sat near the back, I could not see out the front window for all the racks.  I later realized that since I couldn't see out, no one could see in, either.

There were two small dressing rooms at the back, with curtains across the doors.  But two changing rooms simply were not enough for the crowd of females waiting to use them.  Several waited impatiently for the privacy afforded by the curtains, dresses draped over each arm. Others just couldn't wait, and began disrobing behind racks of clothes.  They would try on a dress, step out to one of the full length mirrors in the shop, then step behind a rack and take it off.

As the shop became more crowded, though, several of the younger women didn't bother standing behind a rack, they just took off one dress and walked around in their slips looking for another to try, in full view of Mr. Lipsky and me.

Some of the younger women just wore half-slips and brassieres under their skirts and blouses, I soon learned.  Some of them walked around in just a bra, slip and socks, trying on dresses, never bothering to put their own clothes back on.

At that young age, I began to realize that girls and women were not all built the same; some were very thin and bony, some were kind of rounded and plump, and some were a nice combination of both– rounded in some places and thinner in others.

Their undergarments would look pretty dowdy by today's standards, but fifty years ago, white cotton bras with lots of stitching around the cups and slips with a little bit of lace around the hem were pretty exciting stuff!  Some of the women wore nylon stockings under their slips, and I would catch a glimpse of a garter clasp at the top, because this was a time before panty hose had been invented.

Mr. Lipsky seemed to be sitting impassively behind the counter, looking over a ledger book, but from where I sat, I could see that he was glancing over the top of his little glasses, keeping an eye on the customers!  I realized some years later that Mr. Lipsky and I were a pair of Dirty Old Men, in the finest DOMAI sense of the term; he just had more experience at it than I had.  The women and girls in his shop didn't mind undressing in front of us, and we didn't mind if they didn't mind.

This was getting to be much more interesting than sitting at home watching TV!

Annie was trying on some formal dresses; I realize now that she was looking for a gown for the senior prom.  Just then a friend of hers named Betty came in.  My parents didn't entirely approve of Betty, I knew, because Dad said she was "entirely too modern," and Mom said her clothes "sent the wrong message," whatever that meant.

Betty always looked very glamorous, I thought, like the women on TV– blonde hair, a dazzling smile, and she actually wore makeup (Annie wasn't allowed to do that).  That day, Betty wore pants that came down past her knees, pedal-pushers I remember they were called, and a blouse that was a bit tighter than what every one else wore.  Now that I was tuned into this, I noticed that Betty was also one of those females with curves in just the right places.

As Annie and Betty spoke, Betty began to unbutton her blouse.  Annie said something and glanced in my direction– Betty looked at me, then laughing, shook her finger at me, as if to say, "You naughty boy;" but then she proceeded to ignore me, as the insignificant child I was to her.

But Betty didn't stop undressing, she just slipped her blouse down her arms and peeled down her pedal-pushers to reveal a bra and cotton panties.  She began trying on formal dresses from the same rack as Annie– the first one she put one was probably rather daring for those days, with thin spaghetti straps, a low neckline, and a plunging back. The full bra she was wearing was much too large to be worn with this dress; the straps showed on her shoulders, and the large clasp in the middle of her back looked quite out of place.

So Betty did something that has been forever burned in my memory.  She pulled the bra straps down her arms, then in a swift motion, unclasped the bra and whisked it away, and dropped in on the pile of her clothes on the floor.

She modeled that dress in front of the mirror, her breasts moving inside the dress as she turned this way and that.  Now, I had seen low-cut dresses on TV and in Life magazine before, but not in full, living color like this.  This was definitely better than TV, even if the breasts were partially concealed by the dress.

Then Betty tried on several more dresses, but she didn't bother to put her bra on again.  She was discreet, I have to say, and always turned her back to me and Mr. Lipsky when she undressed.  As she was reaching for a new dress, she would drape her free arm across her breasts, making that small concession to modesty.

But the shop did have several full length mirrors, so I didn't miss a thing.  Her breasts were on the large side, or at least they looked large to me at that age, and her nipples were a dark reddish brown. Her belly was mostly flat, with a pleasant roundness where it was covered by her white cotton panties, and her hips flared in a way that I found nice to look at.  When she bent over to pick something up, her breasts hung away from her chest and swung  gently.  As her panties stretched across her backside, I could see a hint of curly brown hair at the top of her legs– my first clue that women had hair there.  And it also seemed strange to me that the blonde hair on her head didn't match that curly brown hair down below; it took me a few years to figure out what that was about!

If I live to be a hundred, I will never forget the beauty of that young woman's body, clad only in simple cotton panties and white cotton socks, stretching to reach dresses on the upper rack, and shimmying into and out of tight dresses.  As much as I enjoy the nudes I see at DOMAI,  I'll always love the sight of a Pretty Young Girl wearing only panties.

Just then, my sister said "Alright, squirt, you'd better get out of here."  She wore her blouse over her panties, although I couldn't help noticing that her bra was missing now, too– she just held the blouse closed across her chest with her fingers.   "Walk down to the ice cream shop and get yourself something, and wait for me there," as she pressed a couple of coins into my sweaty hand.  Two quarters– 50 cents!-- was an immense amount of money to me then, more than a month's allowance.  I was hesitant to leave, though– I had discovered something more appealing than ice cream on a hot summer day.  "Go on, I'll just be a few more minutes," she said, urging me towards the door with her free hand.

As I sat enjoying my triple fudge sundae, I considered the possibility that I was being bribed into silence.  I was pretty sure I had seen something that I wasn't supposed to see, and that my sister wouldn't want me to tell anyone about it.  I had been to Sunday School, and knew how Adam and Eve felt shame and had to wear fig leaves, and all that.

My suspicion of bribery was confirmed a few minutes later when Annie slipped into the booth across from me with a large bag in hand.  She ordered a small coke from the man behind the counter.

After she had taken a couple of sips of her drink, she said cautiously, "Listen, squirt, I probably shouldn't have let you stay in that shop. . ."

"It's okay, I won't tell anyone," I said, as I finished cleaning out my dish.

"Good idea.  Maybe we can go shopping together again some day," she said.

"That would be nice," I said, trying not to appear too eager.  "And thanks for the ice cream."

"Go in the restroom over there and wash the chocolate off your face. Mom doesn't need to know about that, either."  She gave me a quick wink, telling me that now we had a secret, not to be shared with anyone else.

Ed

"I've been a long time member. 2005 if not before. And you have NEVER disappointed. Thank you, Eolake, for what you have done, for what you continue to do, and what you will do in the future. - Roger Lee, looking forward to another year from Domai and Goddess Nudes (and I've been a member there since almost day one)."

This issue's free gallery

Pictures are available in 6X size for members, and forty times the numbers for the newsletter period! .
Join today. Like our 187,000 members in the past, you won't regret it.