(story) Stefan joins the team (F/m, lycra, team uniforms, cross-dressing)

This is a work of fiction inspired by a recent purchase, and also by @Peininger1! ---------------- I was so excited to pick up my new team kit that I nearly forgot my own name. It was the first time I'd been on a team that had a real uniform instead of just coloured bibs and I was almost as pleased about that as I was about making the team. It wasn't that the standard of our high school football was particularly high, and I wasn't under any illusions about what kind of player I was either. My new school just seemed to take sports more seriously than any other school I'd attended. There were coaches! Structure! A football pitch with lines painted this century! The basic minimum, in other words, but I found that I was into it. There were as many teams as people were interested in playing, and not just football. Every Wednesday afternoon the whole school was out, doing anything from flinging the ultimate frisbee to knocking shuttlecocks around, all of them in school colours. I eventually remembered what I was called and spluttered my name to the coach who was handing out the sealed packets that had been delivered earlier that day. I saw my name and initial on the label and quickly stuffed it into my backpack, getting out of the way of the crowd of students that was as keen as I was to see their new gear. My phone buzzed in my pocket. "Stef, come by my place when you get home." I texted back a thumbs up. Sandra was my neighbour and classmate. I'd been glad to live next door to someone in my class, but coincidence had quite the sense of humour. We didn't just live next door, we sat next to each other in all the classes we had in common. We were right next to each other in the alphabet. Right on top of each other, I should say. I was Stefan Hamm, and she was Sandra Hamm, and we were entirely unrelated by genetics, marriage, or adoption, OK? You wouldn't even have had to ask if you'd seen us next to each other. She was tall, strong, and frighteningly freckled, I was short, tanned, and dark-haired. In any case, she'd been much nicer to me than any new kid had any right to be treated. We soon started helped each other with homework assignments and even hung out a little otherwise. So this message was nothing out of the ordinary. Rather than going home I dropped straight in on Sandra to see what she wanted. I figured I'd still have plenty of time to try on my new uniform and do some posing in front of the bathroom mirror before my parents came home. I wandered in the back door and announced myself. "Up here," she called. "Come see this!" Sandra, in her room, turned just as I entered. Her hands were at her hips, and a mischevious smile played on her lips. She was dressed in a shiny, silky school football jersey which she had tucked loosely into the equally shiny white shorts. She had white football socks pulled up high to her knees. The school logo was embroidered on the shirt and on the shorts, even stitched into the socks. She twisted her hips and let me see the huge number emblazoned on the back, and her name in block letters: S. HAMM. My cock, unused to seeing Sandra in this context, decided it was very interested in these new developments, and poked forward to get a better look. I maintained rigorous eye contact with Sandra in the desperate hope that she didn't look down. "I... uh... " I spluttered. "I didn't know you were also going to play football this year?" My voice went high and dry and I squeaked: "You look good!" Sandra grinned at me. "I know," she said. "But honestly it's a little tight for me." I took this as an invitation to examine her more closely. Her muscular ass filled out the shorts to their capacity, and her chest, although not huge, did stretch the shirt somewhat. I had a sudden bright idea. "You know, maybe mine will fit you better? I just picked it up. And since we have the same name, it won't matter!" The thought of wearing her football kit, warmed by her body, smelling of her, was clearly making me a bit stupid. "But why did you give up netball?" I asked, as I slid the kit packet from my bag. As I tore the plastic wrap open, I realised my mistake. Sandra's netball uniform slipped out and slithered between my fingers. There was a shiny, stretchy vest, a skort, and even matching socks, all embroidered and printed and full of team spirit. Sandra winked at me. "You got there in the end," she said. "Sorry, I couldn't resist trying yours on. And then I thought, the least I could do is let you see." She shrugged. My eyes were drawn to her chest as her shoulders moved up and down. The silky football shirt couldn't hide her powerful body. I nodded slowly. "You look good," I said again. "I don't mind. You know, a lot of guys, uh, I mean..." My brain screamed at me to stop but my mouth wouldn't listen. "A woman in football kit is every man's fantasy." Sandra nodded to me slowly. "Of course," she said, "I know that. But did you know that a man in netball kit is every woman's fantasy?" Icicles trickled down my spine as I realised that I had put my head into the lion's jaws and she was about to bite it off. "Uh, sorry, I didn't mean..." "No, no, Stef," said Sandra. "I'm not upset at being objectified." She put her hands on her hips again and smiled at me. This time it was more of a hungry smile than a friendly one. "But if you want your uniform... fair's fair, after all." I blushed as she looked at me, tossing her red curls away from her face. Then she had one of her huge hot hands on the back of my neck. She was so close I could smell the new polyester fibres of my football uniform. She was a few inches taller than me, and her hair tickled me as she talked softly into my ear. "Get undressed. Now. Naked. Quickly." I couldn't make eye contact with her and I couldn't obey fast enough. I hesitated for a second before pulling down my slip, but she hooked her thumbs into the waistband and slid it off me before I could change my mind. My erection bounced free. "Don't worry," she said. She held the shiny vest for me and slid it down over my head when I raised my arms. It was a tight, stretchy shiny lycra and it felt amazing, hugging me all over my torso with wide straps over my shoulders squeezing me. I trembled and my cock jumped. "That was easy," said Sandra. "Now this." She worked the skort up my legs bit by bit. It was made of the same stretchy, shiny stuff as the vest, with a pair of short shorts hidden under the skirt. My balls were cupped and squeezed and my cock was flattened and held by the tight fabric. Sandra pulled the waistband up high and I felt lycra slide into my crack as well. She slid the vest out so that it sat correctly above the skirt. "Mmm, yes," she said approvingly. "Come look!" She guided me to the mirror. Towering over me, the goddess in football kit ran her hands down my shoulders and over my butt, which she squeezed lightly. I whimpered, even as I took in the sight. Her uniform squeezed and caressed me in places no clothes had ever been before. My nipples stood proud against the stretchy vest. Sandra flicked them lightly. "We'll get you a sports bra later," she said. "Sandra..." I began. "Captain," she corrected me. "I am Captain of the netball team." "Uh... yes Captain," I said meekly. I was clearly finding out just how much of a submissive I was. "And do you know what we do to welcome new girls on the netball team?" she asked me, her red curls tickling my ear again. "Uh... no, Captain," I whispered. "We fingerfuck them," she said, confidently. "We fingerfuck them in their new uniforms, and when they come, they scream 'Thank you, Captain'." "You don't really..." I began, but Sandra's first two fingers were already at my lips. With her other hand at my neck she slipped her fingers into my mouth and I began to lick them. I was tentative at first, then my saliva started to flow and I gave her fingers a thorough suckling. Sandra wasted no time reaching down the back of the skort and penetrating me with her fingers. She guided me down to the floor with one hand at my neck and two fingers up my butt. "Hands and knees," she said. "That's a good girl." My last coherent thought was shattered by a wave of icy feelings emanating from somewhere inside my asshole. Sandra was twisting her long netballer's fingers inside me and touching something tender and juicy and inflamed and my mouth was hanging open but I wasn't making any sound and my cock was harder than it had ever been and every tiny movement brought the slick friction of lycra on my skin and made my nerves scream and I was helpless and I was loving it and it lasted for seconds and it lasted forever and tears were rolling down my cheeks and fluid was spurting from my cock and Sandra's face was down on the floor, very close to mine, as her body hugged me from behind and I whispered through my sobs "thank you captain" and she whispered back "good girl good girl good girl...". I woke up on her bed, still dressed in her uniform, wet and exhausted, and missing her hard body even though she was only a few meters away. She was leafing through the gym outfits in her wardrobe. She glanced over at me with a smile. "Come on. I think this will fit you."

Very good! Curious about a second part 😈

Astonishingly good Bob. Happy to see you and Peninger both back here on the forum. :)

So it's a second part you want? Hmmm... ------------------------ My mouth fell open as soon as I saw her. Over the last few weeks, I had spent a lot of time with Sandra, getting to know how amazing she was. We played as often as we could, and the name of the game was usually, What Will Stefan Come In Today? Together we soon realised that while being ordered around suited me just fine in any situation, I could be reduced to a helpless jelly if Sandra made me dress in her tightest sports clothes. Her netball uniform was still my favourite, but she had other outfits, some excellent gym gear, a hiking ensemble featuring rugged tights and soft skintight layers, a swimming costume that squeezed my crotch and made me come with my eyes crossed... She always made sure I knew how she looked in the gear first, so that I would know that she had worn it, so that I smelled her on it. While she was at first content to enjoy making me twitch and wriggle like a worm on a hook, she slowly started to teach me how to give her pleasure too. She was hypersensitive to touch, and preferred that I stroked and licked her through a thin layer of lycra. She had one pair of thin lycra shorts that were so tight they made her clit stand proud and I could tease it with just the tip of my tongue. The smell of her arousal and the lycra mixed and made me dizzy with lust. After a few weeks of thoroughly enjoying ourselves, I thought we had at least explored the whole of her wardrobe, but she still found a way to surprise me. "What do you think?" I gaped like a fish. She was always stunning, tall, redheaded and muscular. Some might have preferred her naked but in lycra I found her utterly irresistible, the more of it the better. Today she had gone nearly all the way. Her wide grin and dramatic shock of red curls stuck out of a slick, shiny Spiderman suit that covered her from her neck to her toes. "Holy shit," I said. "Can I... can I touch you?" I was already wondering if I would be wearing the suit soon enough, and blowing my load in it. I was fascinated by the way it covered her almost entirely. I knelt to examine her lycra-covered feet, to inhale their mild odour. Sandra pulled me back up before I could lose myself in her one more time. "You know it's Halloween tomorrow," she said. "I'm so happy it arrived in time! I didn't have a backup idea." I'd never been one for trick-or-treating, and certainly not for costumes, but looking at Sandra I was ready to reconsider. I could go naked and people wouldn't notice if I was standing next to her. "I'll go as... Doctor Octopus?" I didn't have any idea where I could get a costume at such short notice, but I didn't want to be left out. It was like she could see what I was thinking. "Don't worry," she said with a wink. "You trust me, right?" she asked. I nodded without hesitation. "Then let's go." She threw some clothes on over the Spider-suit and we headed out. I didn't realise how much trouble I was in until the hairdresser threw the cape over my chair instead of hers. "Hey, what...?" I said. Sandra just grinned. "Can you do it with a blindfold?" she asked. "I want it to be a surprise for him." The hairdresser gave me a conspiratorial wink, while Sandra fitted the blindfold over my eyes. There was a lot of washing and tugging and combing, but not enough cutting or trimming to make me afraid of what was happening. I could always give myself a buzz-cut if I didn't like it. "Just one more thing, hon," said Sandra, once the hairdresser had been around with the brush one final time. I was still blindfolded. She found my hand under the cape. "For this look, you should have a piercing." She ran her thumb across my brow. "Just here. They can do it here. They take a while to heal properly but it should look good straight away. What do you say? It'll be so perfect. And if you don't like it, you can just take it out and it will be like it never happened." With her breath in my ear, and my eyes still covered, she was my whole world. I couldn't refuse. A few moments later I was breathing heavily, in a mild panic as the piercing gun squeezed my eyebrow, and then there was a bolt of pain. Sandra comforted me while the hairdresser fitted me with the small bar, describing what was going to happen. "But still keep your eyes shut, OK? I want to dress you in your costume first." She must have been on good terms with the hairdresser, because she led me into a back room and stripped me naked, gently avoiding my tender eyebrow. Then I felt the familiar slick embrace of lycra on my body. Sandra pulled a pair of tights onto me, but they also had feet. It was a new sensation to have lycra encasing my toes. But the garment didn't stop there, it was some kind of bodysuit, the arms had gloves too. Sandra spent some time getting all my fingers where they should be. I stood there passively and enjoyed every second of her confident touch. When she started to do the zip up the back I stopped breathing for a moment, it felt so good to be totally enclosed in lycra, and when the suit slid shut around my neck I gasped for air. Then there was another zip, and a slight weight on my shoulders. I was dizzy with excitement, but I had my instructions, and I wouldn't open my eyes until she said it was OK. Sandra led me back out to the front of the salon. "I want you to see in the big mirrors," she said. "Ready? OK, open." Standing next to the tall redheaded girl Spiderman, reflected in all the mirrors in front and behind of the chairs, there was a shorter, slimmer figure in a black, white and pink skintight spider costume. A hood lay across her shoulders. She had a pierced eyebrow, and lopsided blonde hair with pink highlights. Her mouth was open. Spiderman held her by the shoulders, grinning, and turned her, and kissed her, and ran gloved hands all over her lycra-covered body. My knees felt weak and I held on to Sandra for support. She held me close, held me tight, her hard hot body just two layers of lycra away from mine. "So will you come out with me for Halloween, Stef?" she asked. I nodded. I turned my eyes to the mirrors once more and drank in the sight. I was Spider-Gwen, she was Spiderman, and together we would be unstoppable.

Hot story! And again... I crave for more XD

Damn Bob. Nice work. I need a girlfriend like her :)