THE NEXT PHASE (Part 3)

I was excited about retuning to school even though
it meant leaving "home". Going into
Junior High was a BIG deal. Although all 12 grades
were technically located in the same building, there
were two distinct parts to it, the Elementary and the
High School. The HS students weren't allowed in the
Elementary and vice-versa. It was to be whole new
world. Basic differences were that we would now move
from classroom to classrom for each different subject;
would take Physical Education in segregated areas
(boys/girls separated); had lockers located in
segregated areas (boys/girls locker rooms); and,
would eat lunch in a cafeteria. Plus, it now put us in
with the "big kids". Where, as sixth graders, we had
been the "lords & lassies" of the Elementary school,
we were now only "jesters" in the High School.
We were picked on, bullied, and often ignored
by the other grades. In spite of that, it was exciting.

There were four new classmates, two of which were
girls. Both ended up being a part of my panty memory
bank. There was Fredierica L., a stuck-up, yet pretty
girl, and Elsa C., also pretty. Elsa was from Sweeden.
Her family was involved with the United Nations and,
with its move to New York City in 1948, they came with
it. Freddie and I got off on the wrong foot and it
deteriorated from there. We were always fighting (with
words) and had been warned about it and even sent to
the Principal's office a number of times.
I hated her superior attitude, especially as
it came to ignoring some basic rules. One day, at
lunch, she pushed my "button" one time too many. Just
as she was about to sit down with her tray, I kicked
her chair out from under her. As she fell to the floor
her skirt flipped up fully exposing her panties. It
was a very good view of a pair of white nylon (or
rayon... they were shiney) panties But, in spite of
her history of modesty she made no effort to cover
herself up and just lay there. After a few seconds I
could hear her crying. Some of the other kids went down
to see if she was OK. I think one of the girls pulled
her skirt down. Long story short, she'd landed on her
tail bone and, although not seriously injured, and was
in pain. Of course I was in big trouble for that. It was
at about Christmas that we finally reached a "truce". I
don't remember the details but I remember us moving
forward more as friends than as adversaries. I was
surprised to be invited to her birthday party. More out
of curiosity than anything else, I went. I'm glad I did.
She lived in an apartment somewhat similar to the one
I lived in. She was an only child (& spoiled rotten)
and her bedroom was her pride and joy. She even had
her own bathroom and she proudly showed it to each of
her guests. Later, as the party wore on, people
started to use the bathrooms more and more. When one
girl found the main one occupied, Freddie's mother
directed her to the other, Freddie's. I observed a few
other's doing the same and consciously chose to use it
as well. Once inside, with the door closed, I headed
for this little white wicker container along side the
toilet. It was a clothes hamper but it contained only
Freddie's panties and bras. I'd hit paydirt!. This was
the very first time I'd touched "dirty" panties. I got
an instantaneous hard-on. There were probably 5 or 6
pair of cotton band leg panties in there but they
weren't Carters "Spanky Pants" and all had dribble
stains. I looked at the labels and they read "Lollipop".
I smiled at that. One thing I noticed though, and that
was that on some there was this hard crusty stuff.
I couldn't imagine what it was. I was in heaven....until
someone knocked on the door. I hadn't even had a chance
to look closely at her bras. I scooped them all up and
tossed them back into the hamper. Then I flushed the
toilet and waited for my "bulge" to go down.

Another major change that being in the High School
brought had to do with Athletics. The school was
located in a downtown area of the city.
The atheletic field was located in a more urban
setting, a 40 minute bus ride away. Twice a week
(Spring & Fall) grades 7 through 12 were excused from
classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays at 2pm and bussed to
the field. For the organized teams (Soccer & Baseball
for the boys and Field Hockey & Softball for the
girls) it was for practice. For all the rest it was
intermurals, where we were taught how to play those
sports and to play those sports among ourselves. The
High School kids went in 3 busses with no grade
segregation. The Junior High went in 2 seperate
busses. The idea behind it was to keep us from
the High Schoolers and their tendancy to bully us. At
dismissal, the High Schoolers were allowed to leave
and find their own way home as long as parental
permission had been granted. For the rest of us it
was a long bus ride back downtown.

On this particular day, the bus broke down in the
middle of Eastern Parkway, a very busy main
thoroughfare through the middle of of the city. We were
in the middle of 3 lanes with cars streaming past on
both sides of us. Now each bus had a teacher/chaperone
to maintain order. On this day it was Mrs. D., the art
teacher. She was very prim and proper and put up with
no horseplay at all. My best friend and I had managed
to get the second seat in, where we could see where we
were going. The first seat was occupied by Mrs. D. The
bus driver left the bus to summon help while we were
told to remain in our seats and to be quiet. It seemed
like it was all boys in the front and all girls in the
back. After a while this girl, Liz D. came forward to
speak to Mrs. D. There was no way I couldn't hear the
conversation. She told her that Elsa C., the Sweedish
girl, had to go to the bathroom very badly and was
there any chance for her to leave the bus. I swear I
had an instant hard on. I swiveled in my seat to see
where she was located. Unfortunately she was all the
way in the back and on my side. There were no seats
available anywhere around her. My mind was racing,
contemplating what might happen. Now, I have to tell
you, no one knew of my fetish(s), not even my best
friend. Right up until the replacement bus arrived I
kept looking back at Elsa. Never, during this whole
time, had I ever looked at the floor. A policeman
had come along to help us exit the bus and
had stopped traffic. We were told to leave the
disabled bus, row by row. When I stood up, for some
reason, I looked at the floor by my feet. There were 2
separate streams of liquid which ran right into the
step well. OH MY HEART! It could have only been one
thing. Elsa had peed herself. After leaving the bus, I
pretended to turn my ankle, hoping to delay my entrance
to the new bus long enough to see Elsa exit the old
one. It worked and even better than I'd hoped.
Although I could't see any evidence of her being wet,
she was walking funny AND, more importantly, I got to
follow her onto the new bus. Now, for whatever reason,
most of the kids had picked new seat partners. Someone
else was sitting with my friend which allowed me to
follow Elsa to the back of the bus. The full back seat
was occupied by the time we got there, forcing us to
take other seats. I got lucky by finding one a row
behind her and on the aisle as well. The fact that no
wetness showed on her dress indicated to me that she'd
pulled it out from under herself when she peed. But,
now being out in the open, she couldn't. I spent the
rest of the trip staring at her butt. When we arrived
back at school, she tried to be the last off. Her seat
mate was a large girl who required Elsa to stand so
she could exit. JACKPOT! A large wet stain all across
the seat part of her dress. Now, in most cases we
would exit the bus and take off for our homes. Because
it was so late we were encouraged to go inside and to
phone home. I followed behind Elsa like gum to a shoe
sole. The only thing was, she went into the girls
locker room. I waited outside for about 5 minutes but
realized if I stayed there it would be pretty obvious
why I was there. (I'd not said a word to her this
whole time) I went upstairs to the pay phone and by
then the line was down to just a few. I got talking with
some friends and then saw Elsa get on line. The stain
was still there but a lot less noticable. I decided to
get in behind her but I found myself with the start of
another hard on. The phone was in a booth in which you
could close the door. When Elsa exited and I went in,
there was no mistaking the scent of pee. I was
dying.....and I almost did! On the little shelf under
the phone was a balled up pair of wet white cotton
panties. I couldn't breath I was so excited. I don't
know how long I sat there contemplating what I held in
my hand. I was brought back to reality by a knock on the
door. I still hadn't called home. As soon as I did I
headed for the locker room and a toilet stall so I could
take a look at the panties. They were almost completely
wet from having been balled up but there was no mistaking
the golden hue right in the crotch area. I know that
this was the first time I'd ever had my hands on a
pair of peed in panties and so it had to be the first
time I'd ever sniffed them. That first sniff is what
hooked me on it for life (or as far as my "old" life
went. :-)
I still have those panties.

I had been active at our church since I was about 10
years old. I sang in the youth choir and served as a
junior accolyte. There were a lot of kids involved and
I wanted to be a part of their youth group. The
minister had organized it for teenagers
and I wasn't allowed to join until I turned 13. The
first Wednesday after my birthday I was there and
joined up. There was a girl, Gwen G., that I had a
secret crush on. She was a liitle older, maybe a year.
I'd tried to talk to her at choir practice and after
church on Sundays but she aways put me off. It was
amazing how my turning 13 changed all that. She was
actually the one who welcomed me into the group. I
went home that night with all kinds of fantasies about
her (you can imagine in what context). By now my
hormones were really in an uproar. I think I was
having a wet dream almost every night. I'd not
discovered the pleasures of masturbation yet. More
than anything else, I wanted to see Gwen's panties.
She went to a different school and I only got to see
her at church. I would lie in bed and picture what she
looked lke in a pair of panties. It was almost time to
move back "home" for the summer and I had pretty much
given up hope of my dream coming true. At the last
meeting before we broke up for the summer the speaker
the minister had arranged for didn't show up. While he
was off making phone calls the group got a little
rowdy. I'd written a poem for Gwen but was too shy to
give it to her. A friend who knew about it told her. I
had slipped it in my notebook which was under my
chair. We were just standing around when I saw Gwen
get the notebook. I dashed over to her but she ran
away. I chased her a bit, finally catching her by the
stage. She had her butt up against the edge of it
holding my notebook over her head. I was right up
against her trying to reach it. Seeing her arms over
her head I decided to tickle her. I had no idea she
was VERY ticklish. She started laughing but wouldn't
let go of the book. I continued to tickle and she
continued to laugh. This went on for at least a
minute. I had only one goal and that was to get
my notebook and my poem. I finally made a lunge for it
when she raised it over her head again. As I did I
forced her to fall backwards onto the stage. She still
held onto the book. As she lay there I could see some
white of her panties. In spite of all my dreams of
seeing her panties, at this moment, getting that poem
back was more important. As I pushed forward between
her legs she drew them up to her chest, fully exposing
her panties to me. (Oh the picture of it!) What she
was doing was getting them up so she could put her
feet on my chest and to push me away. But in that
split second I got more than I had hoped for.
Evidently, all the tickling and laughing had caused
her to wet a bit. I looked down and saw this beautiful
yellowed crotch not more than a foot in front of my
face. As I said, it was only a split second. But it's
forever etched into my brain. She was successful in
pushing me away. I did get a rear view of her panties
as she rolled over to get up. BTW: I didn't get the
book back before she got to the poem.

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To be continued...