A T-Girl and a Tomboy Pt. 01

This suit is made for battle, I couldn't break a seam if I tried. They don't have long zipper-pulls and are sized small with limited stretch, so zipping it up by myself can be trouble. Not limber enough to pull the zipper up my spine, I thread a nylon string through the handle to pull it closed. Once I get it fully zipped up, I pull the string out and pose in front of the mirrors, captivated by what I see, and aroused by the fact that it's me standing here dressed like this. Mom ordered these for Tonya and the whole water polo team—another reason to be jealous of my twin.

I watch the mirror as I bend and stretch and end up with an inevitable wedgie. The tension of the suit tugging between my legs stimulates my special places and reminds me of what Sam did to me on the beach. I use my thumbs to pull the fabric out of my butt, just like the girls in gymnastics or on their surfboards. In a couple of moves the suit snugs right back up my ass again.

I'm so turned on now that all I want to do is climb into bed and get myself off in my special kinky fashion. I make my way out of the garage and back up the stairs, enjoying every step of the way to my room. I sit on my bed and watch the mirror on the wall, admiring myself, exploring my body and the bounds of my sexuality. I caress myself and move about, looking for the best poses and positions to make the suit rub and slide across my body just right. It strokes me as I wriggle, holding me all tucked in, making me look and feel even more femme than usual. I'm being groped in all of the best places and it feels intoxicating.

My vision blurs and my mind wanders to one of my favorite fantasies. I imagine I'm playing with my secret girl-crush; a family friend who is a few months older than me. She's like a cousin and seems somehow off limits. Her name is Jena, and she's the cutest tomboy I've ever known, with light brown hair and a light splash of freckles across her cheeks and nose. She's on Tonya's squad and I love watching her, especially as she does her gymnastics floor routines. In my mind I replay a favorite half-invented memory of Jena flipping and bouncing her way across a mat in a tight leotard.

I stretch like cat, extending my arms and legs, and the fabric pulls at my crotch. I'm so turned on now that I'm getting dizzy. I cross my legs and squeeze them together. The suit is so tight that my balls have retreated up inside of me. My breathing is heavy and irregular, my heart pounds and my cock strains underneath the tight fabric. I imagine that Jena is wearing the same thing, and we're playing with each other.

My cock is so engorged and throbbing that it's starting to ache! I take a deep breath and sit up to look at my reflection, and see Tonya's name embroidered on my hip. I let my vision blur and my imagination takes over. I become my sister, sitting there, completely turned on by the feel of my tightly encased body. I imagine I'm Tonya, playing with Jena. We're wrapped around each other, petting and rubbing all over...

I move my hips and the fabric tugs over my shoulders and chest, stretching, pulling at my taint and my ass... tugging, crushing my 'clit,' yanking at my 'snatch' while I clench my legs and arch my back... Oh my god! It would feel so good to have the fabric all tugged up into a sopping wet pussy!

Ooh! Woah!

The fantasy evaporates as my balls contract and an impertinent wad of cum shoots into the swimsuit. It feels so fucking GOOD...but why do I always have to make such a mess?

I flip over onto my back, heaving, sweating and out of breath. My heart pounds, my head is a thunderstorm of sparks and overloaded synapses. My mind drifts while my entire crotch continues to throb and my cock lets out a few, smaller, messy spurts.

That was awesome! I did not think I was going to come so fast. The BEST! No... no way. There's gotta be so much more, but what else can feel so good? I'm a total pervert, aren't I? Oh, it feels so good to be a pervert. Is this going to be a problem?

My questions and doubts are endless.

Will I ever find a partner who doesn't think this is too freaky? Won't someone else just rather be naked? Why don't I masturbate like other guys? Do I have to imagine I'm a girl to get off?

I've never been in a relationship and have very limited actual experience, but internet porn and an active imagination have filled my mind with sexual possibilities that I'm yearning to try. With my head still spinning, I decide to go outside and clean up by jumping into the swimming pool.

Still in an orgasmic daze, I make my way out of my room, down a flight of stairs to the main level, through the kitchen and out the back door. I cross the wide flag-stone patio to enter the gate of swimming-pool area, all the while stewing about my sexuality.

Am I a girl in a boy's body? Am I supposed to be one? I like girls—a lot. Maybe I', a lesbian in a boy's body.

I climb down the ladder and enter the pool. I kick off of the side, and float out to the middle on my back, staring at the sky.

I loved what Sam did to me, does that mean I'm gay? Sam doesn't seem gay. When I picture us together he's always treating me like I'm a girl. I would love that. I'd love to be Sam's girl. Is that what I want?

My breathing and heartbeat slow as I settle into the cool water and the sunny day.

Okay, so I fucked things up with Sam...but there have been other guys I find attractive. Would I want to be with another guy? Maybe I'm bisexual, I don't really know. The truth is, I haven't been with anyone. The one experience I had was a big mistake. It shouldn't have been a big deal, but it ruined things for me and Sam.

I'm upsetting myself again, always thinking about Sam. I need to try not to think about him so much, but there's always something to remind me.

Suddenly the kitchen door springs open and voices come from the house. SHIT! Who's here? I'm going to get caught! No one is supposed to be home for many more hours, but several people are coming out onto the patio!

***

On Display

I slip down low in the water, next to the side of the pool so I can spy on whoever it is without being in full view. Did they see me? Thankfully the swimming pool has safety fencing around it, and though I'm only about thirty feet away, I'm not fully visible to them. Whoever it is, if they stay on the patio I might not be discovered.

It's my mom and my twin sister Tonya, with four of her best friends and squad-mates, all in their red and black uniforms. Pleated mini-skirts twirl with every swing of their hips as they help Tonya limp her way out onto the patio with crutches and helping hands. The girls set her up on a comfortable lounge-chair under a big market umbrella. Mom brings out a bottle of water and wraps a new ice-pack around Tonya's ankle.

"You should take another pain-pill at six o'clock. It looks like they gave you plenty," Mom says as she sets a prescription bottle on the picnic table. "Thank goodness it isn't broken, but still, you're going to be off of it for the next six weeks. Next weekend is your most important competition before graduation..." I can hear concern in her voice.

Tonya says, "It's okay, Mom. I already got my acceptance letters and it's only a sprain. Heather has A-squad, Sandy can take G-squad. They'll be fine on stage without me and I'll be fine before the end of the school year."

There are two different varsity cheerleading teams. 'A-squad' is the varsity-league competition team. 'G-squad' is the special performance squad, special since they are all over eighteen. They can self-manage and do not need to follow regular competition rules.

"Go back to camp and do your networking," says Tonya. It's obvious that she wants to get rid of Mom for the evening.

"Yeah? Well, just remember that a latent injury is why I didn't get to compete at the Olympics. Stay off that ankle. Help yourselves to the kitchen. Please bring Tonya whatever she needs until I get back, okay? She should take another pill soon. Keep an eye on her, she may feel okay with the medication but if she tries to do too much it will take longer to heal. Alex should be around here somewhere. Have him call me, will you? I'll be back sometime after nine."

"We'll take care of her," the girls earnestly reassure my mom.

With that, my mom, the central figure of all that is organized, is gone.

Trying not to panic, I quietly work on finding a way out of my trap. If I can unzip the polo suit and get my shoulders out, maybe I can move it down to my waist and it might look like a guy's swimsuit. If I can manage that and get to the towel bin before anyone looks over...but no luck. I can't unzip the suit without the string through the zipper, and I left the string in the garage! I try to calm my breathing which only makes me more aware of the suit's tight fit. I feel like the cheerleaders are going to hear my heart pounding.

No one is supposed to be here until later, but sprained ankles are a thing and now I'm trapped in the pool while the girls take turns running in and out of the house. They're bringing out drinks and snacks, talking loud and fast about everything on their minds, so far completely unaware of me.

They are all toned athletes on a championship squad, wearing their black shiny sleeveless bodysuits under uniform vests and miniskirts. It's Sandy, Cheryl, Raven, and Jena -- my secret crush. I know them all and they all know our house, inside and out. They seem to feel right at home.

They're grousing about the camp competitions. The 'Fearless Girls' usually win, dominating the league in most female sports, especially cheerleading. The squad can rock, but apparently they missed out on technical points with Tonya's fall, and didn't make up enough in other categories. They're talking about how, if someone had performed as the mascot, they would have earned enough points to still place in the top three. They're talking about who should be their mascot for next tournament.

Out of the blue Jena says, "hey Tonya, what about Alex? He played with us all the time when we were kids. What, is he too cool to hang with girls anymore? Do you think he'd be the mascot?"

Jena is that family friend, the one I had just been fantasizing about. Her parents have known mine since college and they'd been coming to our house since before I was born. She's the kind of tomboy I imagine I'd be if I were a girl.

Tonya sounds grumpy and groggy. "I don't know, I doubt it. He used to do whatever we were doing, now when I ask him he's always too busy."

"Tell your mom to make him do it," Sandy says, "what's he got going on for the rest of the school year anyway?"

My sisters have been friends with Sandy forever. Her curly red hair is pulled back into a ponytail, her freckled face is round and cherubic, and she has the solid build of an elite gymnast. Although she is sometimes a jerk until someone calls her on it, Sandy is the squad's best director, their 'creative lead for gymnastic choreography,' earning last year's regional trophy, a real artist and athlete. With her pithy, meta attitude and Gothic edge, she doesn't seem like someone who would want to be a cheerleader, but the competitive performance aspects, the black and red school colors, and the 'Fearless Girls' theme seem to be okay with her.

Sandy is one of those girls who usually has someone following her around, and lately her shadow is Cheryl. Cheryl performs well with the squad but she's otherwise quiet. With her shoulder-length, stringy black hair and her black and red uniform, she is also wearing leather wrist bands and a collar. She doesn't say much but she dutifully goes along with whatever Sandy is into.

I'm reaching behind me, pulling at the swimsuit, desperately trying to reach the zipper.

Jena laughs and says, "Remember when Alex used to dress up and do gymnastics with us? It was so legit! I love Alex."

What?! My heart skips a beat and I make a splash. Jena spins around and we catch eyes! My heart stops—my eyes go wide in horror, but Jena is delighted.

"There you are, Alex! Are you hiding form us? How long have you been there?"

"I... uh, I was just relaxing in the pool when you got here." I stammer stupidly. I don't have a chance.

"Hey!" says Tonya, "you're not 'sposed to be in the pool when no one's home," her speech slurs slightly.

If it was only her I could easily get out of this but there are five of them, and now Jena is coming over to see me.

Thinking fast, I say, "Hey, can you toss me a towel? I'll be out in a minute." I desperately point to the towel bin, hoping she'll reach through the fence and toss one to me. It works! She reaches through and tosses a towel to the edge of the pool where I can reach it.

"Sure, Alex. It's really good to see you." Jena grins and lowers her voice, "Skinny-dipping? Come and talk when you're ready." She winks and turns back to the others. I watch her walk away, thinking how well the word 'crush' describes the yearning in my chest.

For a moment I think I may be able to get away with it. Holding the towel carefully I get out of the pool, I step off the ladder and slip, dropping the end of the towel. Tonya sees and notices before I can cover myself again.

"Alex! What are you wearing? Is-zat my swimsuit?" Tonya slurs but what she says is clear.

Everyone's full attention turns to me.

"It's just an old one from the free-box," I say, cringing as I realize that all of the girls know exactly what kind of stuff is in the free-box.

Tonya and I are usually very good to each other. We're twins, after all, and usually have each other's backs, but she is not in her normal state of mind. She's amused and is not going to let it go.

"That's my old butt-munching water polo suit isn't it?" Tonya says.

The other girls' jaws drop. My heart sinks.

Tonya lets out a snort. "Sandy's mom wouldn't even let us wear those to practice, says they're 'too revealing', doesn't even care that it's the freakin' E.U. standard. But why? Why are you wearing it?" Her face is the picture of pain-relieved confusion.

Sandy and Cheryl giggle and head over for a closer look. I freak out and jump back into the water, towel and all. They're all laughing now. Tonya shakes her head and sinks into the lounge chair. The other girls dash over, through the gate and are at the pool side in a moment. Sandy, Cheryl and Raven are at the edge looking down into the water.

"Hey, I've got that same suit," says Sandy.

"Me too," says Cheryl.

"We all do," says Raven, "Mrs. B ordered them for all of varsity. It was our team uniform until Sandy's mom said, 'We shouldn't be wearing thongs,' and wrote a complaint."

"They aren't thongs. Sandy, your mom is so uptight!" says Cheryl. "That's probably why you're such a Goth tart now, isn't it?" She looks adoringly at Sandy. "Cheerleaders are hot in corsets and fishnets."

Cheryl is looking pretty Gothic these days. Before I went to Australia she was all Abercrombie and Fitch, now she's wearing a leather collar with a silver ring in the middle of her neck.

Raven's green eyes are checking me out, her voice purrs as she teases me with a smile, "What about you, Alex? Is your suit too up-tight?"

I'm dying inside. Raven herself is a work of art, she's multi-ethnic Pacific Islander, with brown skin and dozens of long black braids. With strong, lithe limbs, she's a gymnast and a dancer who moves with grace and has eyelashes like the girls on magazine covers. It's easy to daydream while watching her. I've seen that lots of other people have that problem too. She often wears wet-look items to the beach and surfs in exotic bikinis. A thong under a silky sundress always makes the sweetest lines on her perfect ass. This is the first time I've heard her say my name.

Tonya isn't done. "It's one thing when your leotard gives you a wedgie during a floor routine...those water polo suits can hurt! The one scrimmage we had made me sore for days. It's a good thing they aren't our uniforms. You can keep it."

Jena approaches the poolside, and now the four girls are standing right above me. I try to be strong and hold their gazes, but I feel completely humiliated. From where I am, I'm looking straight up their skirts. I can see the shiny little snaps in the crotch of their bodysuits.

Sandy notices where my eyes have gone. She wags a finger and shakes her head at me. Reaching down she says, "Come on out, let's have a look at you."

Jena looks embarrassed for me as the others pull me from the pool, but she too steps back to take a good look. I'm being inspected. Sandy takes my hand and gives me a slow spin, her eyes wide with mirth and surprise. It triggers another round of giggling fits when I reach back and use my thumbs to pull the suit out of my butt.

"So you like wearing your sister's stuff..." Sandy says, as she touches Tonya's name, embroidered there on my right hip, "...don't you?"

"This was in the free-box. You heard Tonya, she doesn't like it. She must have thrown it in there."

Tonya tries to get up but Jena stops her, saying, "Everything's fine, just lay back down. Is your ankle hurting? You should probably take another pill soon."

Tonya glares. "Everything is not fine! Is it FINE that my brother steals my clothes? He thinks he keeps it all secret but I've seen some of the old stuff that keeps getting back in the laundry. I know he's wearing it."

It's breaking my heart. I can't understand why Tonya is being so cruel to me, she's never like this.

"Shut up, Tonya! You don't know what you're talking about!" I immediately regret lashing out as her face sours with indignation.

"Oh really? Last weekend when you went out biking, the sleeves of an old team leotard were showing from under your t-shirt. I didn't say anything but it proves what I'm saying now. When I saw it later in the laundry, it had boy-juice in it." She points at my crotch.

"Ewe!" the girls all groan.

I'm wilting. "I don't get into your stuff! I only take things from the free-box, and I make sure everything gets washed before it gets put back."

"Yeah, right! What else do you take of mine?" Tonya asks.

"Nothing! Well, sometimes I borrow your skirts, but I don't get them dirty."

"You'd better not! Those need to be specially cleaned and you'd probably stain them. What kind of closet case are you?" Tonya's words sting. "Are you into boys? Did you and Sam have a good time 'down-under'?"

I'm standing here in front of five very attractive girls, and I'm not sure how to answer some of her questions.

"Do you want to be a girl? Are you trans?" Tonya demands.

"That's not how it is, it's... I... I don't know... I like the clothes, don't you? I mean, look at all of you, you look so good in your uniforms—come on, why are you being so mean? Please don't go tell everyone. Just let me go inside and change," I beg.

Sandy smiles devilishly. "Not so fast, we caught you. Besides, it's fun seeing a guy all exposed like this. Get your towel out of the pool and hang it up to dry. Don't expect your sisters or your mom to clean up your mess."

Sandy gets the long-handled swimming-pool brush and hands it to me so I can retrieve the towel from the bottom of the pool. It's heavy and moves slowly in the water, and I have to reach and stretch. I'm on display in a tight red one-piece. The towel is heavily waterlogged, so I have to step into a wide stance and use muscles to move it. I feel every eye watching me. Cheryl snorts a little laugh when my suit snugs up my butt again. I hang the towel over the fence and return the brush to its storage hooks. It's almost painful to have to turn to face them.

Sandy shouts, "Yeah Alex! Who's got it?"

The girls let out a practiced cheer. "She's got it! Yea Alex, she's got it!"

I blush so hard it hurts.

"We'll make you a deal, Alex." Sandy offers, giving great emphasis to my name.