The College Swim Team: Part 2
We have to share practice time with the girl's squad.
Based on a post by AnonymousPerv. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.
I wouldn't be surprised if most of you don't believe my history up to this point in the story. You might think the idea that men swimming naked in public pools in 1959 is crazy. I would agree it is crazy, but it doesn't make it less true. Turn on your google, or whatever it is, if you don't trust me and look it up yourself.
Perhaps the hardest pill for you to swallow, is that I had such an intimate sexual experience with the female coach, Dr. Wynn. Well, it happened. I always kept that secret to myself, up until now. There were more events that occurred during this joyous time in my life and I'm happy to share them with you before I go, but I'm warning you: If you haven't believed my story up to this point, you may as well quit reading now. It gets crazier.
It was about a week later, following a Friday afternoon practice, when things really took a turn. Coach Andersen had the team line up at the end of the pool. "Gentlemen, in three weeks we start competition. I am more confident in this squad, than any other I have ever coached. You make me all very proud."
It was nice getting the acclaim. We had survived several weeks of practice and conditioning, injury free, and three more weeks of it seemed ever more grueling, even though we were seeing the benefits of the hard work. All nine of us had rippling hard bodies, what many would consider to be "peak" physical condition. Knowing Coach Peterson and Dr. Wynn, they always set the bar higher.
"Unfortunately, boys, we are faced with a challenge. I am offering you the opportunity to make a big decision."
The nine of us, all naked and still wet, began mumbling among each other.
"Settle down, settle down. Here's the issue. The pool at Drexel has cracked its foundation. They will be rushing to repair it, but in the meantime, our old rivals have no way to practice in a proper 50-meter pool. That is, unless they bus over here daily. They called and asked if we would be willing to give them access to our pool every day at 7 pm., until the season officially begins."
Seven o'clock is when the girls usually start practice. We're 4 to 6:30, and they're 7 to whenever. The break, between the two squads coming and going, usually prevented any of the girls from accidentally stepping into the pool area while we were there. Although it was allowed and tolerated for girls to be around, I had discovered that it wasn't considered good etiquette, unless one was a coach or a lifeguard.
That first day of school, when I had experienced being naked in front of several girls, had perhaps skewed my reality of the situation. I even noted that when Dr. Wynn did stop in during our afternoon practices, she never over-extended her stays, always doing her best to make the boys feel comfortable. Still, whenever she was there, I popped wood.
Pete Wilkinson on the end spoke up, "If Drexel can't practice, we'll trounce 'em in competition!"
Buddy Preston raised his arm. "Do we really want to win that way?" Buddy was well-liked by everyone, and if it weren't for me, he would have been the fastest on the team. "You know that's no way to win a meet." The others agreed, me included.
"I thought that's how you would see it," said the coach. "Obviously, this creates problems with how we share our facility. Coach Bradley's squad will have to forfeit their time for Drexel. She and I discussed it, and feel we can effectively utilize the space by giving her girls the west side of the pool, and we'll take the other. We'll have fewer lanes to practice in, but we can resolve this by coming in at 3:30 and staying until Drexel arrives at seven."
It sounded to me like they'd already made up their minds. Strangely enough, after more than a month at the school, I had yet to meet Amanda Bradley, the woman who many considered to be Coach Peterson's equal. I knew she'd been the girl's coach for more than a decade, and had a winning record almost impressive as her counterpart's.
Coach Peterson paced as he debriefed us. "I'll call Drexel and tell them they can start Monday. It will give us enough time to make arrangements over the weekend." Suddenly, he stopped. "Do I have to remind anybody to be on their best behavior in the presence of the girls' squad?"
We all shook our head and mumbled "No," but Scott Thomas raised his hand. I remember it was Scott, because if there was one person who might have been more socially awkward than me, it was him. Also, he was standing right next to me. Still, he didn't get stiffies every time Dr. Tammy Wynn stopped by. It appeared only I suffered that humiliation.
"Um; Coach Peterson?" he asked. "I; uh; know the girls can wear their swimsuits and all, but while they practice with us, it will be mandatory for them, right?"
I jerked my head to him. "Mandatory?" I whispered. "What the heck are you suggesting? They have to wear suits, of course!"
Coach Peterson started laughing, shaking his head. "Oh, Mr. Thomas; and you, Mr. Feller." He slowly walked up to me, standing not two feet away. Thank goodness Dr. Wynn wasn't there. Otherwise, my penis would not have been flaccid. "For as fast as you swim, you really ought to know more about what it is you are swimming in. Without going into the history of this great sport and leisure activity, here are the rules: stay in your lane, don't jump in until you hear the buzzer, and abide by all dress codes."
"I do, sir," I insisted. "I was just saying, so do the girls. They abide by the rules, by always wearing their suits."
The coach sighed, "Apparently, you are still in the dark over our protocols. Boys, why do we not wear suits in the pool?"
One at the end of the line shouted, "Fibers in the pumps and filters. Clogs them up, making us have to replace them."
"I thought it was checking for rashes and wounds," said a boy on the other end.
"Yeah, to ensure we're clean, everybody knows that," said another.
"It's all those things," cried the coach. "There is every practical reason to swim in the nude, Mr. Feller. Not to mention, we have long standing traditions here."
I nodded, not wishing to upset the coach with my ignorance any further.
"Back to your question, Mr. Thomas. Will the girls be required to wear their suits? I'll discuss it with Coach Bradley. I think it is a reasonable request."
Again, my curiosity got the best of me. "But wait, I don't;"
"What is it you don't understand, Mr. Feller? The girls don't have to wear their suits, but should they prefer to protect their modesty, they may. We offer the school sanctioned suits for that reason."
"You mean they can also practice naked?" The thought of it sent blood rushing to my cock, but the look on my coach's face helped to keep me in check.
"You really are from Kansas, aren't you? Most of them wear their suits, I suppose. Sometimes one or two of them go without, so I've known, but it's a girl's privilege to protect her modesty, especially against young men like yourself. We wouldn't want any of you boys getting impractical thoughts." The coach paused again, looking directly at me. "So you all try to control yourselves."
I blushed, looking down. I suspected Dr. Wynn had told him about my problem, that every time we practiced together, I had an erection. It didn't matter if I kept my mind on other things, it just seemed my penis autonomously got hard in the presence of a female. Especially her.
Hopefully, Dr. Wynn hadn't revealed that she had swallowed my cum once. I felt fairly confident she kept that a secret, like I did. How I wished she would let me do that again, but she'd acted very professional ever since. I guess she meant it when she said it was a one-time thing.
Coach Peterson raised his hand before dismissing us. "Mid-morning practice tomorrow, then take the rest of the weekend off, boys. You deserve it, you really do. Even you, Ryan." He winked at me. "I know you've been working hard."
I wasn't sure if that was a double entendre, or just a simple compliment. I headed to the locker room with my teammates, already dreading the coming Monday. We were to arrive early to practice, giving me barely any time between it, and my last class for the day. I had to pack a snack for in between, since it would be three and a half hours of grueling drills, all while the girl's team worked their side of the pool. That was the real beef. I was filled with anxiety thinking about how I would handle myself, naked, in the presence of so many girls.
The temperature was surprisingly cool that Monday morning, but while I meandered from one class to the next, I was sweating buckets. I couldn't stop time. It was bound to come, and the minutes passed far too quickly. 'Please don't get a boner, please don't get a boner,' was all I could think about, repeating over and over in my head. When I got to the locker room to undress, some of the others were whispering to each other, pointing at me. Pete snickered and threw me a thumbs up sign.
"What?" I asked.
"They're making bets on how long before you sport wood."
I went flush. It was so humiliating. I guess it had happened enough times, and was now a well known fact, that I always got hard around girls; just like a dweeb. I was unable to contain myself around girls; at least when I was naked.
Look, it wasn't unheard of to happen to someone when swimming. Strapping, young men pop random wood on occasion. It's understood that it happens, and when it does, the rule of thumb is to ignore it. Still, it's somewhat frowned upon. And people like me; who do it all the time; weren't usually welcome in the pool, I had discovered. I suppose I was lucky that Dr. Wynn had been so forgiving of the issue. Having practiced with her so many times, she could probably pick my hard cock out from a lineup.
I looked at the small group of kids mocking me and stared them down for a second, before throwing my towel to the floor. "Put me in for less than a minute."
It was perhaps the first, genuine bonding moment I had with any of my teammates. Up to this point, they kind of avoided me. My highly competitive spirit set some people off, while others were just jealous of my talent. But self deprecation goes a long way, I guess, and the boys broke into howls when I admitted I had a problem.
Scott slapped me on the shoulder. "Don't feel bad, man. With all those girls swimming nearby, wearing those loose-hanging suits, I'm pretty sure you won't be the only one challenged with the problem."
"No shit," said Pete. "It's been bugging' me all weekend. Damn, can you imagine? When Mary Jenkins comes out of the water? Woah, I can't wait, but I am gonna have a hard time not popping wood." Others laughed again, when Pete said, "Maybe not like Ragin' Woody Ryan here, but I'll definitely be struggling. I might have to jump in the water periodically."
Others snickered and clapped, nodding their heads. Pete's moniker stuck. From that point forward, I was known as Ragin' Woody Ryan. At least, far more often than by my short name. We finally shuffled to the pool, making our way to our corner of the large, open room. The girls were already on their side, circled around a woman. From my distance, I couldn't really make her out, but she stood almost a foot taller than any of the swimmers.
Coach Peterson snapped us to attention and we lined up in front of him. "OK, boys, we're going to start with laps. Since we only have five lanes available, five of you go now, ten minutes later, the other four."
Always eager to get in the water, I volunteered with four others and made my way to the third lane down. As I was about to get on the block, I noticed the girl's squad was still circled around their coach, who was dressed in one of those school sanctioned suits. With her standing so high above the squad, I finally got a good look at her. Late 30s I would guess and extremely top heavy. She made the redhead I met on my first day here look small in comparison.
A blonde girl who faced the coach, with her back to me, had one knee on the floor. I remember thinking she was so thin, because I could see her spine. It took a second for that to register in my brain, but I suddenly realized she didn't have anything on at all. Not a stitch of clothing! I whipped my head back to the water the moment I realized, desperate to jump into the pool, before my penis responded to the mental stimulation of a girl being naked in the same room with me. I dove in straight away.
By the time I started my stroke, my cock was raging hard. I was so grateful it was under the water, because it took the entire ten-minute run of laps for it to finally go away. I was desperately trying to focus on anything other than the girls. I swam hard, focusing on my form and the fury of my stroke, when just before time was up, it finally went flaccid again. I remember being so relieved when coming out of the pool.
That was, until I realized we had to sit on the bench; which faced the pool. I knew I'd be tempted to look to the girl's side. They weren't close, but close enough to fantasize about, and soon, I would be struggling to save face again. Scott Thomas flagged the coach down, just as we neared the bench. "Coach, I thought all the girls were going to be suited up, and uh; um; I saw one of the"
"Oh, yes, about that." The coach stepped closer. The five of us who had just come out of the water huddled around him. "Dr. Wynn and I discussed it with Coach Bradley, and we determined that it was best not to make any extraneous rules during this short matter of inconvenience."
"But;" Scott started.
"No buts. It was actually something Mr. Feller said to Dr. Wynn, I believe, that helped make our decision. 'That men would behave no differently around the women, than they do us.' It's quite forward-thinking, progressive; and dare I say, debatable, but it was decided. If some of the girls happen to go without their suits, I expect you all to ignore it. Understood?"
We all nodded and made vocal affirmations, though I think we all were rather scared; scared of the prospect of having reactions around naked girls. We weren't superhuman, and though it may have been considered inappropriate to get erections while swimming with others, deeming it "inappropriate" didn't stop them from occurring. I'm guessing I was more worried than most, considering my track record.
The coach continued, "Never mind the girls. The only things you should be focusing on right now are your times. I want to see those relay scores improve. Considering your individual runs, it ought to be better."
We nodded again and grabbed our towels. As I was about to sit down, the coach tapped my shoulder, likely because I was closest to him. I should have kept a distance. "Hey Ryan, run this over to Coach Bradley. We must have swapped clipboards this morning. Ask her if she's got mine."
Coach reached out, handing me a clipboard with a dangling pen, attached to a thread. Several sheets of paper were tightly clipped to it, and it did look a lot like Coach Peterson's. I could see how they may have swapped them, but I wasn't thrilled about returning the item to Coach Amanda Bradley, who was now seated on the opposite end of the pool, on a bench that was against the wall, mirroring ours. I started the long walk over.
For those unfamiliar with the size and scope of a natatorium, allow me to explain. The pool is 25 meters wide (80-ish feet) and 50 meters long. The diving pool, located at the other end of the facility, is deep and also large, though not nearly the same scale as the Olympic pool. Our locker room entrance was situated somewhat between the two pools, on what was now the girls' side of the pool.
The distance between our bench and the girls' was about a hundred feet. Try looking at something from that far away. You can see it, but you can't make out the details. So from this distance, the boys weren't too concerned about being seen naked by the girls. Of course, the boys swimming in the two lanes nearest the girls' lanes knew they were at risk, to some degree. It was bound to happen, and I envied those who could manage it, without getting an erection.
Because now, as I slowly made my way over to the girl's coach, I felt my penis already twitching. I knew I was doomed, but I was trying my damndest to think of anything other than girls, or my nudity. I thought about my math test, the previous week's baseball scores, and anything else I could come up with, but I knew if I caught so much as one girl glancing at my package, it was over. I was already half stiff when I was within twenty feet of Coach Bradley.
I held the clipboard slightly in front of me, trying to cover. How I wish we had the same options as the girls and could wear suits. The women's coach was currently focused on one of the girls in the water, when she turned to a student on her left, an attractive brunette. "Make sure we tell Wendy to bring her arms up more on that forward stroke."
"Excuse me, ma'am? Coach Bradley?" I stiffly kept the clipboard in place while addressing her.
She looked up, pausing at my chest, before darting her eyes to my face. "Yes?"
"Coach Peterson asked me to return this clipboard to you. He thinks he may have swapped his with yours."
"Oh, he did! In my office. I noticed after he left, but I left his there. I figured we'd get them sorted after practice."
"Oh, okay," I said, beginning to turn away, thinking, 'Please let me keep the clipboard, please let me keep the'
"Do you know where my office is?" she asked. "South Hall, fifth door on the left." That was further down the hall than Dr. Wynn's office, but I knew where it was. "It's open. If he needs his clipboard, just go get it."
While walking to the girl's side of the pool, and being in the direct presence of Coach Amanda Bradley and several of the female team members, I had somehow managed to keep my willy from going nilly.
Had it not been for my impeccable effort of maintaining eye contact, I am certain my rod would have stiffened faster than Billy the Kid could ever draw his weapon. This was because, below Coach Bradley's eyes were perhaps the two largest mammaries I'd ever seen. I noticed it the moment I crossed into the girl's area, and looked away to keep my mind on other things.
In that brief glimpse, I noticed how the terrible shape of the school-sanctioned swimsuit made her body looked more "ballooned" than it likely was, because her legs appeared to be thin and tone. I dared not risk taking a closer inspection of her body, and as we engaged our short conversation, I proudly managed to keep my cool.
It was short lived;
"He probably wants his clipboard, right?" the coach asked, as I kept staring at her contemplating what I should do. "Just give me mine, and go fetch it. Come on. Get going, already." She held out her hand, expecting me to hand over her clipboard.
"Oh. Yeah, okay. Fourth door on the left?"
"No, fifth. Fifth door." She turned to her student again. "Allison, why don't you just take uh;"
I had not yet surrendered the clipboard, but said, "No, no, it's okay, I can find it."
"Don't be silly. Allison just gave her lane up to Mary a few minutes ago. She's got time."
"Oh; well, okay, then," I said, defeated. The coach thrust her hand out again and finally, I handed over my cover, keeping my eyes on the ceiling the entire time. "You ready?" I asked, sort of angling myself to Allison, the girl seated next to the coach, barely looking at her.
But I could barely see it, but she had a shit-eating-grin on her face when she glanced at her coach. "Sure, let's go."
I really thought I might somehow make it. That I might somehow be able to get through this humiliating experience without it becoming worse, but just as I turned to follow Allison, the skinny blonde (specifically, the naked one) hopped out of the water and came rushing forward. She was soaking wet. I couldn't help but look at her, approaching so unexpectedly.
Immediately, my eyes went to her chest. She was small up top, but her little nipples were hard as stone from the cold water dripping off them. I knew she was at least 19 or 20, but what really caught my attention was how little hair she had. Down below, that is. It was clear she shaved it, way more than what I had seen in the pages of the dirty magazines at the time.
As you can imagine, this did it. Seeing such a beauty, naked, directly in front of me, sent my woody raging. Hence the nickname, I guess. It bounced to rock-hard stiffness in what might be world-record-setting time. The poor naked girl, easily spotting the abrupt change, let out a short scream and jerked back.
That wasn't good. She was staring right at it, and her audible reaction drew Allison's and the coach's attention to my predicament. This set of events, while humiliating, somehow managed to make my cock react in the worst way. It was now aiming at the stars, it was so stiff. I snapped to Amanda, "Let's just go already, okay?"
I quickly walked past her, hearing snickering behind me, before she caught up. "Hey, wait up, Speedy."
"Well, I'd rather have that nickname than;" I cut myself off, but Allison started laughing.
"Yeah, we heard your nickname. You kinda got famous around here quick."
I stopped, my erection still standing, but stared at Allison. "You mean people have been calling me that for a while now?"
"Ever since the first week."
If my face could get redder, it did. I'm not sure Allison would have noticed, because her eyes had shifted to my cock by then and not come back.
"Hey, I can't help it," I pleaded. "if I could, believe me, it wouldn't be this way."
Allison grinned and finally looked back at me. "Honestly, Woody, don't sweat it. Believe me when I say, I've seen worse. I bet the other boys are just jealous."
I doubted that. They didn't suffer my humiliation. At least, not on the regular.
"Come on, Woody. Let's go get that clipboard."
"Uh, it's Ryan," I said, following as she took the lead this time. I didn't think she heard me, or cared.
"Oh, here it is," said Allison, grabbing the item, once inside the coach's office. She picked up the clipboard off the desk and turned to me. Again, her eyes shifted down. I suppose it was a natural reaction, considering the damn thing pointed right at her. She slowly walked to me and handed me the clipboard. "Here ya go, Woody. Damn shame to see you cover it up, though."
It's exactly what I did. I snatched the clipboard from her hands and quickly covered myself with it. "Uh; yeah, I think you'd do the same if you were in my position.
I'll never forget that devilish grin on Allison's face. As I stood there, shaking and nervous, with a thin clipboard the only thing between my stiff cock and her, she slowly made that grin. Finally, she spoke. "Ya know; what do you say? Just to be fair, for fairness' sake, we find out?"
In one swift motion, Allison wrangled out of her suit revealing a body I never would have guessed. She, like the blonde, was thin, but her tits were like peaches. Her ass was small, but firm. One could easily tell they were built on muscle. A mound of hair covered her most private area. She bounced on her toes, "Nope. I don't need the clipboard. I'm good."
I had no words. In fact, I think I just started shaking more; like a dweeb; again. Allison spotted my discomfort.
"Hey, I gotta tell you something."
"Yes?" I squeaked.
"Dr. Wynn works with us, too, ya know."
My heart stopped. So many thoughts of what Dr. Wynn could have revealed rushed through my head, almost making me short circuit.
"Hey, it's okay. You should know Dr. Wynn is pretty groovy."
Remember, kids, the year is 1959. The word "groovy" might not be used much in today's vernacular, was it just being introduced back then, and would later become a popular slang term. It certainly described Dr. Tammy Wynn, though.
"She asked us all to ignore it." Allison pointed at my stiff member, currently hidden by the clipboard.
I sighed, dropping my shoulders, "Well, you can ignore it, but it still won't go away." I know my eyes were scoping out Allison's body, as much as hers were mine. Unlike me, though, she wasn't the least bit embarrassed by her nudity. I still kept the clipboard over my bits.
"Actually, she asked us to do a bit more than JUST ignore it, though."
"What do you mean?"
"She said that she knew the other boys would be teasing you about this problem, so she did ask us to ignore it when you get an erection," Allison paused, "; no matter how difficult that may be; but she also asked us to engage with you. We are to smile, be pleasant, and show the others that it doesn't bother us. Not one bit."
"Really? Uh; okay. Thank you, I guess; and you all agreed to this?"
"I think so. We think Dr. Wynn is awesome. Anyway, we promised. So the point is, we already know about your problem."
"Okay, then," I said. "I guess that's good." It didn't really feel that way me. Like the girls had to be warned how to behave around me specifically. I wasn't sure how to feel about that.
"Hey look, it's fine. It's the reason why I am doing this."
"What, getting naked? Just to make me feel better?"
"Not exactly."
Now I was curious. "What do you mean?"
"This clipboard incident gives me an opportunity to do something else Dr. Wynn asked us to do. I want you to go back empty-handed."
"But;"
"I'll come back after you in two or three minutes, enough time for you get there first. Tell the coach we couldn't find his clipboard. I'll show up a couple minutes later, and tell you I found it after you left."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because I'm staying naked, silly! Believe me, when I am done, YOU will not be the only one with; well; one of those." She pointed toward my pecker behind the clipboard.
"Are you serious right now?"
"Woody, this is going to be fun. Now go on, let's do this." Not knowing what to say, I turned to leave. "Dummy. I need the clipboard!"
As I handed it back to her, she snapped, "Now listen. For this to work, you have to stop being so modest."
"Oh, come on, I look ridiculous."
"You look fine! Dr. Wynn explained it's natural. Stop freaking out about it. So get back out there and back to your side." She pulled on my arm, flipping me towards her. My stiff cock hit her right outer thigh. "Oh, sorry," she giggled. "But listen up. Go back the way we came. You walk by those girls and Coach Bradley, standing proud!"
"Oh, come on!"
"I mean it. Now!"
Allison was almost as demanding as Dr. Wynn. I marched off, making my way back. With each step, I tried to build my courage, walking taller, putting my arms to my side, adding whatever confidence I could muster to my strut. My cock was waving back and forth, parallel to the ground. and as I began to pass the girls, all of them noticed. Jaws dropped, eyes popped. Even Coach Bradley did the same as she watched me turn the corner of the pool and head to the boys' side.
The teammates on the bench were giggling, on the verge of erupting into laughter. "What the hell, dude?" asked Lance Pillson.
"Hey man, I can't help. Might as well get used to it."
"You're crazy."
Coach Peterson, noticing my return, rushed over. "Jesus, Ryan, can't you get it under control? Where is my clipboard?"
"I'm sorry, sir. It was left in Coach Bradley's office, but we couldn't find it."
"Couldn't find it? Fine, I'll look for it later. Just; sit down already, before you poke an eye out."
Then I heard a voice behind me. "Hello, Coach Peterson." It was Allison, a minute or so early. I turned, and for the second or third time today, my heart dropped. She was dressed in her swimsuit. She must have put it back on the moment I left the office and followed behind me.
"I found your clipboard. Um; Ragin' Woody wasn't much help to me."
"Hey, wait a minute!" I started to protest, but then realized how foolish I must have looked. What was I going to do? Argue that Allison had promised she would walk over naked? She'd call me a liar in front of my coach. I bit my lip and said. "Hey, I'm sorry. I just didn't see it. We looked."
"It was right on the desk, dummy, where I told you it was. Maybe you were; preoccupied with other things." Allison took a moment to shift her eyes to my cock again, this time to mock me. I quickly tried covering with my hands.
"Ryan, go sit down on the bench!" barked the coach. "Forgive him. He's from Kansas. Thanks for the clipboard. Now be on your way."
Allison winked at me, turning, rushing off. My teammates were losing it, laughing out loud, finding great amusement in my humiliation.
"Damn Ryan, think you might want to meet her folks first?" said one.
"Hey, man. I don't think that girl likes Ragin' Woody Ryan too much. Imagine how he must behave around a girl who actually likes him!"
"I don't think there is one," shouted another.
I sat down, burying my head in my hands, feeling great shame. This was going to be a very long three weeks, I thought.
Come to find out, it wouldn't be long enough. I told you the story gets crazy, right? Wait until you find out what Dr. Wynn did when she found out Allison pranked me.
The girls squad gets naked for moral support.
Dr. Tammy Wynn was sitting in her chair near the pool when I arrived for our private practice the following Monday morning. Already, I was stiff as I walked towards her, wearing nothing, holding only a towel.
"You better explain yourself, Mr. Feller," she barked, as I neared. She pointed at my hard-on. By now, Tammy was completely accustomed to it, but by her demeanor, I assumed she got word that I had unabashedly walked through the girl's side of the pool, with my raging hard-on (in full display for all to see), at the last practice. Erections were discouraged, of course, and protocol should have warranted covering myself with a towel, or walking around the other side of the pool. What I did was considered rude; even perverted. Definitely frowned upon.
Feeling embarrassed, I covered myself with my towel now. Not that it made much difference. As I've noted, Dr. Tammy Wynn saw my boner all the time. "Dr. Wynn, I swear. That Allison girl tricked me. She said you told the girls about my problem, and that they promised to be cool about it. And I was;"
"And that means prancing around with that thing, in That condition, all around them?" the coach yelled.
"I get it," I screamed back. "It sounds so stupid now, but Allison convinced me it would be fine. To get it over with. And she said she was going to walk back naked, and embarrass the other boys."
"What?" the coach gasped. "I didn't hear anything about her doing that!"
"It's because she tricked me. She didn't do it. She undressed in front of me, but put her clothes back on when she brought Coach Peterson's clipboard to him."
"I think you had better start at the beginning," said Tammy, leaning back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Give me the whole story."
I took a deep breath, relaxing. I dropped my hands to my sides, exposing myself once more to my instructor. Again, if anyone allowed it, it was her, yet I understood her concern that I had taken things too far with the girls' squad. I slowly explained the details. When I was finished, Tammy straightened up, glancing at my package a quick time. "If what you say is true, what Allison did deserves to be addressed. Nevertheless, I expect you to be on your best behavior from now on, is that understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," I muttered.
"I'll also speak with Coach Amanda Bradley about this, and we'll come up with a proper punishment for Allison."
I suppose some revenge felt nice, but I didn't ask what Dr. Wynn had in mind.
"Now let's get started. Try to keep that thing down today, okay?"
"Easier said than done," I whispered, as I headed to the block.
After my last class finished, I rushed to the school cafeteria to pick up a snack and some fruit. Sharing space and time with the girls' squad limited time for other things, including getting a proper evening meal. After Dr. Wynn's admonishment this morning, I dreaded going to practice, having to face the girls after they had all witnessed me, making an ass of myself, strutting my hard cock around them. I wanted to bury my head in the ground somewhere.
I persevered, though, and after taking some shit from the others on the team while in the locker room (of course), we headed to the pool, naked as always. I was relieved, entering the natatorium, because we made it there before the girls. There was no risk of any of them seeing me, and stimulating my peter to attention. Instead, it flopped around like everyone else's, a feeling I wish I experienced more often. I hated getting boners around my teammates.
Coach Peterson gathered us around him, giving out instructions for the day. As usual, we were to start with a ten-minute warm-up of laps. Just as he was about to break up the group and have us get started, Allison, the girl who had pranked me, entered through the far side door and strolled towards us.
"This ought to be interesting," the coach whispered, as she got closer.
She struggled not to look at all the boys' nudity. Wearing her swimsuit, she approached and addressed me. This, of course, stimulated me in some bizarre way. Just knowing she could see everything excited me. My penis began rising. She spoke softly, while hanging her head, looking away from it. "I am sorry I lied to you yesterday. It won't happen again." Allison wasn't so much sorry, as she was shamed into being forced to make an apology. She quickly turned and rushed to the other end of the pool.
Coach Peterson looked at me. "Well, I guess that's out of the way." He turned to the others. "You boys behave yourselves. It's going to be a long three weeks having to share the pool."
'Not long enough,' I thought, when I saw the girls' squad enter the pool area. By this time, Allison was standing near the empty benches waiting for the others to arrive, but what happened completely changed my attitude about sharing space with the girls, erection problems be damned.
Every single one of them, save for Allison, was completely buck naked. They were all physically fit, most were more lean than curvy, but every one of them was gorgeous in my eyes, even from this distance. We couldn't make out the details from where we were sitting, but we all could tell they were naked. Our imaginations filled in the gaps.
"What the hell? "whispered Tim Simmons, near me. He was one of the worst performing athletes on the team, and still, he was quite good. Our team was loaded heavy with talent.
"Boys," said Coach Peterson. "You keep your minds on the water, understood?"
We all agreed, albeit not with much conviction. Already, I had popped wood again, but I noticed I wasn't the only one. The feast set several of the boys off.
"I think I'll hit the water now," I exclaimed, wanting to get a closer look, while also wanting to get under the water as quickly as possible. I rushed to the last lane designated for the boys, just to the right of the last girl's lane. I prayed the busty redhead would be the one swimming there.
I jumped in the water and had already made it two laps before some of the girls' squad finally hit the water. The lithe, skinny blonde chose the lane nearest me, and every time we passed, just the thought of a nude woman nearby sent my boner stiffening ever more. It was likely slowing my pace down.
After ten minutes, we got out of the water and headed to the bench. Thank God I wasn't the only one sporting wood. In fact, I noticed Coach Peterson holding his clipboard over his crotch, as I had done the day before. Maybe he was struggling, too. At least he had clothes on, I thought.
Once the other boys finished their warm-up routine, Coach shouted, "Alright, we're doing full times and sprints. Ryan, you and Alex. Hit the blocks."
This meant we were competing with each other. Alex took Lane 2 before I could reach it, leaving me Lane 4. We always spaced the lanes when competing one on one in practice. It was known that I would beat Alex, but I was definitely uncomfortable standing at the block for extended periods of time while waiting for the coach to get ready. Several girls were already spying me.
Coach Amanda Bradley was nearby, two lanes over to my left, with one of the taller girls, admonishing her. "No, you have to arch your back higher. You're taller, so it may take more effort, but you'll get a higher and longer jump."
As I waited for Coach Peterson to give us our marks, I looked to the women's coach working with her student. The naked girl had her back to me, when her coach said, "Here, I'm tall too. Allow me to demonstrate."
My coach, Coach Peterson, was writing in his clipboard at the moment, and talking with one of the boys who he'd assigned as an impromptu assistant. I was begging them to hurry in my mind, because Coach Amanda Bradley began disrobing. Unlike last practice, she was dressed in street clothes, but in seconds, she peeled off her blouse and bra, dropping them to the damp floor, exposing her enormous cans. Instantly, my cock rose higher, past my belly button.
Ignoring me entirely, the female coach stripped out of her shorts and panties, revealing a healthy bush. Then, she pushed the young naked student out of her way and approached the block. She bent forward, angling her torso low to the ground. Her tits practically touched the floor, as she held her ass high in the air.
"Now watch me spring off the block."
To my knowledge, slow motion hadn't been invented in 1959, but the vision of Coach Bradley dismounting from the board, sending her tits reeling back from the inertia of her movement became cemented in my mind. In days forward, I would be able to bring up this memory in my imagination, playing it back and forth, even freezing it in place. My god, it was a sight.
The naked student noticed me watching and gasped when she caught sight of my erection. I quickly turned and shouted, "Let's go, Coach!"
Coach Peterson looked up. "Hey, young man. We'll get started when I say so." But then he noticed my predicament and shook his head. "Alright, boys. 100 meters. Ready. On your mark; Go!"
With all the training I'd had with Dr. Wynn, my actions were autonomous. By the time we dove in and began our stroke, I was already three body lengths ahead of Alex. Concentrating on the race, regardless of the erection, I pulled out my real skill-set, swimming like a dolphin. When I touched back at the block, the coach was there, stopwatch in hand. "You just beat the state record, Ryan. What the hell was that launch all about?"
"What me and Tammy; uh, what Dr. Wynn and I have been working on," I said, paddling in the water. I glanced to my right, hoping to see some naked girls, but none were in view from this angle.
"Well, keep it up," he said. "We want you to do that in competition."
"No problem, coach," I beamed.
Getting out of the water, I noticed Alex was stiff, too. "Did you see Coach Bradley? Those jugs? Man, I don't blame you for getting a boner this time," he said.
"Only because you got one, too," I said, shoving him forward. "Let's hurry up and sit on the bench. This is embarrassing."
There were so many naked bodies. From this distance, hard to see, but I knew I would get closer when I got back on the blocks. What was most shocking was Coach Bradley. When she got out of the water, she had dried off with a towel. It lay on her naked lap now, as she sat on the bench on her side of the wall. If it weren't for her enormous cans, we likely wouldn't have been able to make out she was naked, but those were unmistakable with her enormous nipples. They looked like bullseye targets from here.
"Did you notice that Allison is the only one with clothes on?" whispered Alex to me. "She seems more embarrassed than anyone. No one is talking to her."
I wondered if Dr. Wynn had somehow convinced the girls' squad to pull this stunt, in some way punishing Allison, making her stand out, being the only one wearing a swimsuit. I giggled at the thought. Still, it was shocking to see Coach Bradley naked, and I couldn't get my mind off it.
One really has to understand attitudes of the day, to comprehend just how strange this was to me. To see an authority figure naked before me? Unheard of, from where I was from. And outside of the pool, even here in Eastern Pennsylvania, life in the '50s was quite prudish. One would be shamed and shunned if they so much as walked in on a relative naked in the bathroom. Yet at the pool, during this time in history and in this little area of the world, nudism was considered perfectly normal at a pool. And it was required for males!
Alex and I stayed paired together for the following run, and as we eventually made our way back to the blocks, taking the same ones as we did on our first race, I got my wish of getting a closer look at Coach Bradley. She stood up and briskly walked towards me when she saw me approaching the pool. I know it's considered rude to stare, but I swear I could not peel my eyes off her giant tits, and those huge, perfectly centered nipples. "Hey, you're Ryan, right?" she barked.
"Yes, ma'am," I said, to her tits.
"I saw that first practice race. You're the one Dr. Wynn has been tutoring, right?"
"That's right, ma'am."
"Call me coach; and try to look me in the eyes, please."
Even being shamed into it, I still struggled to look up. My boner was aiming right at her, yet she found it much easier to maintain eye contact than me.
"I'd like to see what you two have been working on, but Tammy's left for the day. Do you think she would mind if I joined you at your next practice?"
"Um, sure. I don't see why not. Dr. Wynn is excited about this, and wants to introduce her program to the rest of the team. I'm thinking Coach Peterson will let her, now that he has seen how her training has helped me."
"I should say so. Okay, champ. You meet with her tomorrow morning?"
"Yes, coach. 8am."
"Right. See you then. Thank you, Ryan."
"Yes, ma'am."
Coach Bradley then leaned in, and winked, whispering, before slowly looking down at my raging hard on. "And thank you," she said. "You can make a girl feel special."
I never blushed so hard in my life, and turned away, rushing to the block. I glanced to Coach Peterson who nodded, sending Alex and I back into another furious race. This time around, I was even faster, my heart pumping hard against my chest.