Like a Candy Store...

The railway-gates were just coming down as I neared the level-crossing, so I stopped to wait. A girl drew up alongside me.

Her figure was that of a mature young woman, full and pear-shaped about the bosom. However, her freckles and blonde ponytail were girlish, and so was the tight green-striped T-shirt she was wearing.

We stood, and I started to fidget.  Having to stay still beside this girl was like getting like an itch I couldn't scratch, though I bet her own perfect knickers never troubled her. Maybe I'd try to talk to her! Or should I wait until we could move?

Those boobs though, sitting soft and heavy in that tight stripy tee. I was responding to her, and could feel my underpants pushing out.

When she cast her eyes down there, and smiled about it from her freckled face, I don't think I'd ever blushed so much. For a girl like her to know she'd made that happen to me, as if I was some little boy who couldn't help it, and she so grown...!

Rush! The train shot by. Another girl who'd been standing too close to the barrier ended up with her own ponytail upside-down, her pink dress flapping to show black knickers too skimpy for her. It was like a starter's flag. This was it! I was so going to talk to the girl!

But I couldn't move. When I remembered her smirk, the soles of my sneakers stayed rooted to the pavement. Off she strolled, not in any hurry and with no backward glance at me. I burned on the spot, powerless, watching the back of her golden ponytail until she finally vanished.

After that I was restless, and when I ended up walking behind a pretty brown-haired girl in a black mini-dress with white patterns, it didn't help. My bouncies absolutely ached inside my underpants, so much so I felt like supporting them with one hand like I sometimes had to do in gym. It had taken forever to get rid of my futile stiffness after the level-crossing, and now this brunette in the short flippy dress looked all set to give me the same problem all over again!

She seemed to keep one forefinger and thumb forever hovering around her hemline, sometimes to lift it lightly then let it fall again. Why did girls do that, I thought my myself irritably? That skirt went up practically to her knickers - it wasn't like she needed to move it out of the way in order to walk! Still she did it, daintily holding her silly skirt up at one side, or sometimes doing it with both hands as if she was about to curtsey.

Some music was playing from a nearby shop door, the sort of annoying little tinkly melody girls like her always liked. That was irritating me too. The last thing I wanted was to be involved in her theme tune, on top of everything else!

The breeze was fluttering the skirt of that little dress, and I couldn't take my eyes away. Sure enough it soon flipped up, but instead of knickers I found myself staring at the girl's bare bum!

Her carelessness thrilled and excited me all the way through...but only for a moment. For next second she skipped into the waiting arms of a boy, and I only had to take one look to know neither of them was waiting in the way I was. My bounceables started to ache anew, for a whole other reason besides the perfectly good one they had. Simmering with envy I looked away.

Unfortunately that didn't stop me thinking about how the pair of them would look later on. She pink and lovely, the dotted dress gone.

Tears jerked into my eyes. It would never be me, never. Girls like her were for boys like him and I just had to get used to it. That, and jealousy and unwanted stiffness all the time and achy bouncies and walking round with my hand there looking like gym class had been a pain.

Walking despondently home I saw a girl who wasn't anything special - glasses and not-great posture, with thin legs and straggly yellow hair. Feeling the way I was today though, she might have been the loveliest thing I'd ever set eyes on. I wanted to groan at how badly I desired her.

It had been breezy all day, and her floral skirt was very light. In no time at all it lifted to show knickers in plain greenish-grey, no lace or frills. Sensible ones, though they were quite tight-fitting. Unmindful she went on walking, with these on display to the whole High Street.

Watching her was like letting my indignation and discomfort slip away just a little, as I drifted into an afternoon dream of healing and respite.

She must have noticed my pining look. "Cheer up," were her words to me. "It might never happen!"

Then she slouched on her way, her plain greenish-greys still showing.

She couldn't have known how much better she'd made me feel!

THE END