Willpower, Part One

"Katie, you're not supposed to wear underwear like that for gym," I told her, very flushed.

"Like it's up to you," Katie replied haughtily.

I pouted and went back to dressing for netball.  New term, but same old intermingled excitement and fright!  I was embarrassed about my new red tunic because of the flared boy-skirt, but at least I'd also got some new underpants in very bright colours, so I'd look good and hopefully be a bit more confident about showing them.

Although that said, my bright colours versus Katie's sheer see-through blue ones...!

Wow, did that girl ever shower? I could smell her from over here! Suddenly she looked like she was walking over to the sports hall door, but from what I could see, pink and side-by-side and sweetly jiggling up and down, she so wasn't!

"Not so fast, Katie! Where's your skirt?" I demanded.

"Not wearing one," pouted the impossible girl.

"If you think I'm playing you like that," I commenced hotly, "poking your...poking those in my face, when you're practically bare down there...!"

But she just stuck her tongue out at me, maddeningly, and left the changing room.

Although I was furious, I had no choice but to go after her, my own bounciest bits jogging anxiously up and down in the bright-coloured pants which I now felt very silly about wearing and showing. It suddenly seemed such a boyish thing to do, when your opponent wasn't even wearing a skirt! Worst of all was that she was a girl, and younger than me, even if she was acting all grown-up.

I watched her on the court, pushing out her almost-bare bum as she shot and scored the perfect net. Then she turned to where I was standing awkwardly at the border.

"Betcha can't do that, smelly boy!" Katie sang at me.

"Smelly from you is a bit much...!" I fumed, for even as I started to stride indignantly onto the court, my nostrils were already picking her up. By the time I was standing beside her it was unbearable. She was like fruit cocktail that was well past its sell-by date. On every sniff I positively itched to slip a hand up the front of my netball skirt, and start rubbing away with my palm on what was already becoming quite a prominent hard little bulge in my underpants.

"What's the matter?" asked Katie innocently.

"Nothing!" I flung back, blushing at how she'd noticed my agitation.

"Because if you want get a bit less hot and bothered first, you should," Katie told me sweetly. "You won't play quite so badly afterwards."

In a helpless gesture I flapped both hands against my bare quivery thighs. "I really want to!" I told Katie earnestly. "But I can't can I? These underpants are new, I've only just put them on for the first time!"

"Mine are new," she said back in a querying voice, her little brow prettily furrowed as if she didn't understand.

Uhh, the smell of her was driving me up the wall by now. I so wanted to, and her words were very tempting. "Well, just imagine the trouble I'll get into if I put my new pants in the wash all...well, in that state," I pointed out limply, trying to be patient.

Katie just gave me a very cheesy smile and moved herself even closer, so close I almost fainted.

"You want to though," she breathed.

By now I was full-on stiff, pushing even the front of my netball skirt right out, testing the tightness of my brand-new underwear elastic to its limit. It was such a pain we boys had to have this stupid thing down our pants, it did nothing but get in the way!

"You're just lucky you're a girl," I grumbled to Katie, then picked up a ball from the court and did my best to try start to play, trying to ignore how I could barely even run in the state I was in.

END OF PART ONE