Something to Remember - trixya

The Old Box

1959

P.E. was one of her favorite classes, since she was one of the most athletic girls in her class, if she could say so. Not only was it one of the most fun moments in this school, but their teacher was the best: Coach Beth Taylor. She was one of the few teachers that were laic, and she had a special bond with the girls. The gymnasium was a safe place for them, away from the nuns and having fun while playing basketball, volleyball or whatever the coach would let them choose to play.

On this particular day of October, in their weekly class of P.E, she wasn't feeling okay and all of that was thanks to her ankle. In the last class, she didn't land well while she was trying to defend the ball. Still, coach Taylor was awesome and let her rest on the benches this time, so she got to watch her classmates playing basketball. Before they started, her friends asked again if she was okay and she assured them that she was going to be fine. It was a lie, it still hurt but she was a tough girl and she was handling it well. Also the nurse had seen her and told her she just needed to take care and it would slowly heal on its own. That was a relief.

Usually, Katya would get very focused when she played, taking it very seriously. Maybe it was the only moment when she would show some competitiveness, but actually that wasn't something that could happen often. Now that she was the viewer of the game, she started to notice some things that she hadn't seen before.

At first she was concentrated in following the match, but soon her eyes landed inevitably on her . Trixie was a decent player of basketball, not the best but definitely not the worst in the group. Slowly, she started to pay less attention to how she was playing and instead, she focused more on how her hair bounced from side to side when she ran after the ball, how adorable her face looked when she was sweating, how her cheeks were pink from all the activity that she was doing, how good the uniform looked on her... And damn, Trixie looked so hot in that outfit. The t-shirt was hugging her generous breasts tightly, and still she wished it was tighter. The hideous sports pants suddenly looked good but only on her, accentuating her waist in a beautiful curve.

Without doing any activity, or moving in any way, her cheeks felt warm. She was blushing at the sight, but that was not the only place that she felt the heat. She shifted on her seat a bit, completely flustered.

"Katya, are you okay?" Bianca suddenly appeared, startling her. "I know that you love P.E., but the class is over." She was right, everyone was going to the showers.

For the rest of the day she had stayed with a weird sensation inside of her. She felt clumsy and lost. Not only that, but the anxiety of having Trixie close to her was prominent and it hadn't been that way before. She was aware of her presence more than usual and her proximity was making her feel a little bit insane.

The desire of having something so close yet so far. The frustration of not being able to touch her, to kiss her, to tell her how much she wanted her, of having to to act like everything was cool, like there wasn't anything wrong with her. Meanwhile on the inside she was burning, overwhelmed by so many emotions that she couldn't express. Repression was something that she was way too familiar with.

That night on her bed, after she wished Trixie good night, her thoughts didn't leave her alone. All she could see was the image of Trixie in that uniform, over and over again. And even though it was kinda cold in the room, she started to heat up under the covers. The same sensation that she had at the gym was coming back. Her hand wanted to reach out to where she needed it but, she was sharing a bedroom now. What if she hears me? Maybe she's asleep ... That's what she wondered for a while, until she finally decided to do it.

The urge wasn't bearable anymore, her cold hand finally reaching her underwear in the silence of the night. When she reached there, it felt so hot and wet that she blushed again, in embarrassment. Slowly she felt her folds that were slick and slippery, feeling them with her fingers. At that moment her skin had goosebumps from the sensation.