Van 0.

5

ing against them as I ran and stroked the ball. Once the match started and I was really playing hard, I could more or less ignore my revealing girlish costume, even though I knew that the extremely short skirt kept flipping up to expose the bright gold of my sexy panties. Sometimes the bra cramped the movements of my arms and shoulders, but I tried to ignore it, and ardently hoped that it would not break a strap and reveal my imposture as a girl.

When I sat down to rest between sets I was acutely aware that the gleaming gold in my crotch was attracting attention, but by keeping my thighs clamped colse together I hoped I was hiding the fact that I had much more of a bulge there than any girl should have. Even so, my masculinity was compressed uncomfortably tight, for the tiny firm panties were designed to be snug over a much less voluminous area.

Ever since I'd left the locker-room I had been speaking as little as possible, and what few words I said, I tried to keep my voice as high and light as possible so my true sex would not be revealed. Even so, as the match progressed I noted that members of the State College group were staring at me questioningly, as though they suspected that something was wrong but couldn't figure out just what it was.

Eventually I won the match, and I heaved a sigh of relief that my ordeal of public transvestism was over. I wanted only to get out of this ultra-feminine costume, find out how Joan's ankle was, and get on with my plans for the big weekend of fun. The girl I had beaten came over to congratulate me, and, as many females do on meeting or parting,