All characters in this story are over the age of 18 and are consenting young adults.
This continues the story of my sex education. It begins with me fulfilling my end of a bargain with Sis.
*****
Monday morning, in Sis's panties, I tried to circumvent my problem. I arrived at the football field an hour early hoping I could change before the guys arrived. Coach didn't show until 5 till to let us in the facility.
I took a deep breath and walked into the locker room.
There would be over 60 boys at this practice. That meant the locker room would be crowded but it didn't make much difference. I had a locker, so there was not much choice about where I'd have to get suited up.
Sis could have at least given me a pair of white panties. No such luck. She had given me a pair of bright red French Cut panties. They had looked great on her, not so great on me. On the bright side, I didn't have to worry about an erection sticking out the top. My dick felt like it had shrunken down to an inch. Instead of a big lump, I'd look more like Sis. This would suck!
I didn't sleep well thinking about what would happen in the locker room. If I was lucky, I might get kicked off the team. Otherwise, I'd be abused all season, maybe longer.
With all night to think about how to handle this situation, I had arrived at a strategy. It might work out but my credibility was pretty low with the guys. All the seniors and most of the juniors had their pick of cheerleaders or other cute girls from school. I had avoided all the complications of dating.
My strategy rested on Sis's advice to tell a good lie, which actually meant to tell the truth; just leave out a few details. I could, I would, do exactly as she had done when she bailed me out Saturday with my buddies.
I licked my lips and pulled down my pants. It took just a few seconds for the commotion to start.
"God damn, Tyler. What the fuck?" As several guys nearest me backed a safe distance away.
"Told you he was queer," came from someone nearby.
"Are those red fuckin' panties?"
I was trying not to stare at anyone and wasn't sure who was saying what but it didn't matter. The jeers and taunting continued.
I tried to shout them down, "Shut up you bunch of assholes! It's not what it looks like." This was it. Make or break. "I've got a girlfriend. She said she'll have sex with me if wear her panties."
The few guys who were listening might have been willing to give me the benefit of the doubt. The two assholes standing right next to me weren't in that group.
To avoid naming names, I'll just refer to them as asshole #1 and #2. It's a more accurate description than their names anyway.
"Queer, did you just tell me to shut up?" as asshole #1 gave me push into asshole #2 standing on the other side of me. He shoved me back into #1.
#1 swung at me, "Get off me you queer." I tried duck back and got a light tap under the eye which stung like hell. By now I knew it would be a fight in which these two guys, and maybe a few more, would pound me into the floor of the locker room, but my adrenaline was pumping.
Mom and Dad had always taught me not to fight. Until now, it had not been an issue. Dad had given me one more piece of advice, though he saved it for when Mom wasn't around, "Don't start 'em, but it's ok to finish 'em." I liked that advice, but I didn't think it would happen this time.
Dad wasn't a fan of violence, but he was practical. He figured playing football, things might get out of hand occasionally and he had taught me some 'self-defense'. It wasn't boxing lessons, but enough to show me how to protect myself, jab, and vulnerable points to punch. I don't think either of us thought I would need it against my own team. This morning was different. I had been expecting trouble, and I was prepared to go down swinging.
I elbowed #2, was rewarded with a pained grunt, and landed a satisfying punch on #1s nose which spewed blood. Still, I figured the end result would not be good for me, but I'd inflict as much damage as I could. Several punches were thrown in my direction.
Before the fight could progress toward its inevitable conclusion, coaches crowded their way between us and were restraining us.
Coach Barker yelled, "Calm down. There'll be no more fighting. What's the meaning of... of..." He broke off as he saw my red panties.
"Cuuh-rist Tyler. What the hell are you wearing? Into my office, all of three of you. Coaches, get the rest of these guys on the practice field."
As we headed into Coach's office, my two adversaries in unison, "I'm not sharing a locker room with no fag."
Coach Barker surprised all three of us, "Guys, there is nothing wrong with being gay. Unlike being bigots," and he looked directly at asshole #1 and #2 as he said it, "it's not a choice. Now, you two are in line for football scholarships. The likelihood of that is pretty low if you aren't on the team this year! Do you understand me?"
Both guys nodded.
"Now suck it up and I don't want to hear or see any more of this."
To #1, "Stop by Miss Talmage and get first aid to take a look at that nose!"
The Cheerleaders provided first aid for the girls and the boys during these practice sessions. This just meant treating minor scrapes with band aids and wrapping sprains. Both squads seemed to get these. Anything more serious went to the Doctor's office, or hospital.
Then he looked at me, "Tyler, hold up. I don't care what your persuasion is, and I don't care what you wear on your own time, but for the sake of the team, I better never see you in panties again!"
"Coach, I'm not gay. Really, I'm not. And this will definitely be the last time. She promised just this once."
Coach sighed, "A girl. I should have known. Even a gay kid wouldn't wear those panties in the locker room. And for God's sake, use a condom!"
As I was going out the door, "Tyler, it might be best if you got back into your running clothes. I'd like you to run instead of work out with the guys today. Give them a chance to cool off. Don't think I'm taking it easy on you. If I see you, you'd better be running."
I needed to cool off too so I was relieved, "Thanks Coach."
*****
Two hours of running round and round a track gives you plenty of time to think about things. Most of my thoughts were on Sis.
My first thoughts were on what she had promised me. I had earned it this morning! I knew what I was going to receive. Actually, I didn't know what I was going to receive. It was the difference between the coach telling you that you might have to take a hit to make a catch and actually taking the hit. You have to experience it to know what it's really like.