How pretty I seem to be, and my hair shines in the sunlight, and the cute little pigtails on the sides of my head bounce with my every skipping step.

I am in a white lace dress. It is the kind of thing that I have seen on little Hispanic girls out in their "Sunday best." There is an almost obscene amount of lace on this white dress, as if it should only be worn to a wedding.

It is almost a wedding cake more than a dress. It has tiers of lace to it, and looks good enough to eat. My chest is very flat and girlish, and I am so happy that I am very much a girl in my white lace dress. The hem reaches mid-thigh, and whenever I move, all the lace and ruffles seem to make a sound. I like to hold my dress and coyly do a curtsy, so anyone can see I am wearing a darling pair of cotton panties with little flowers on them. There is a coquettish amount of lace at the legbands of my panties, which would be enough to make most girls blush if their panties were exposed. But not I. I am so free in my girlhood! I like to toddle along and let my dress fly up, and let everyone see my panty-covered bottom.

How I love to play and be vulnerable!

There are other girls in the playground, and they accept me as one of them. I can't believe how fortunate I am! We gather in a circle and we are having a game. We are showing each other our panties!

As each girl pouts insolently, raises her skirt, and shows herself, she knows she is special. She is so special because she wears pretty clothes and is a girl!

One girl, her hair a mass of curls, her dress sunny yellow, picks up her dress and exposes her white cotton panties. Another, turning around in supposed shyness, but in what actually is the first signs of the coquette, bends over and can-can flashes the most ruffled lace panties I have ever seen. If they were pink instead of blue, I would have beggedher to let me try them on. Blue ruffled lace panties? How strange!

Here in this playground, it is as if the world stands still in girlhood. There are no adults. No men. I skip along and look at all the girls up close, every detail. Every ruffle. Every delicate bit of the lace.

When they call to me, giggling and laughing, I raise my skirt and everyone cheers me. They see my white cotton panties, and the little flower buds all over, and the smooth slope of my crotch, and the silly lace on the legbands.

We all are congratulating each other, as if we have won a game.

Now I see the girl with the pretty blue lace panties, and for some reason I think that if I try them on, they will turn pink. I try and get her to swap them with me. We will go into the girls room, and hide and whisper, and excitedly reach under our skirts and pull our panties down, and hand the different pairs to each other! It will be so exciting!

I am whispering to her, but she does not hear.

I stamp my feet, so indignant. But she is laughing and talking to other girls and not to me.

I begin to cry, and as I do, I raise my white lace dress and let everyone see that I am wetting myself. It runs in a stream down my legs on both sides, directly from the crotch of my cotton panties. It is forming a puddle on the floor.

The other girls take no notice of me, they are talking among themselves.

It is like a pornographic movie now, where the camera is very close on the crotch. I am watching the yellow liquid flowing from the middle of the panty crotch. I am thinking, as I watch this, that I am doing it just like a girl. They can't possibly tell that I am not a girl.

Vividly, I hear the screams and shouts of happy girls at play, and just as loudly, the sound of water streaming and spattering onto pavement.