By Bro Robinson
Copyright 2020 by Bro Robinson,
all rights reserved
*
* * * *
This
story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced
nudity,
spanking, and sexual activity of preteen and young teen children for
the
purpose of punishment. None of the behaviors in this story should be
attempted
in real life, as that would be harmful and/or illegal. If you are not
of legal age in your community to read or
view
such material, please leave now.
Swimming Naked at the Y, Part I.
A Bro Robinson story
By Bro Robinson
I first learned about my body, and bodies in general, as a little kid,
and learned to be comfortable in it and with it because of swimming
lessons at the YMCA in our town. The rule was that we all had to swim
naked. It was policy. It had been since 1926, at every YMCA all across
America. The Y followed the guidelines of the American Health Practices
Association which recommended that boys swim in the nude -- and not
just at the Y. High schools also followed these guidelines. It was the
cultural norm in that bygone era and no one questioned it.
But in 1962 a crack appeared in that norm. For the first time the AHPA
did not recommend that boys should swim nude. I remember some
discussion about this partly because another crack in the norm appeared
at the local Y that year. The YMCA had a pretty liberal policy of
letting parents, their friends, family members and even female friends
of the boys from school be allowed to observe us swimming. It tightened
in 1962. The Y had decided that for boys who had reached puberty only
immediate family members be allowed to watch us during class sessions,
swim meets, and parents day events. This meant that if a sister or
cousin was brought to watch us she had to be with the boy’s mother or
at least invited by the boy’s mother.
For me this meant no
changes really. But I knew some of us boys were greatly relieved to
hear of this change. No more free shows for school girls and the
awkward moments of sitting next to a girl in class who often came to
watch you swim naked falsely claiming she was your good friend or even
girlfriend.
My lessons started back in the mid 1950s, which
seems like a different century now. Oh wait, that was a different
century! At nine or 10, I started with ‘tadpole’ and continued for many
years working my way up the proficiency scale until I graduated to the
level a ‘shark’ in the fall of 1962, at the age of 15. If I wanted to
advance further, I knew I could take the Y’s lifeguard certification
course. The age requirement was 16.
What was most unusual
and sad for that last round of classes was that our regular instructor,
Mr. Randall, died in a car crash about halfway through our lessons. We
learned of his death on a Monday when all the parents were notified by
phone.
Classes were canceled for a week while the search for
a new instructor went into high gear. What was most unfortunate for the
YMCA was that male instructors and lifeguards were already in short
supply. There were plenty of female instructors however. Some of them
were also life guards who sat in the tower chair during our classes,
always in swimsuits. In our class of 20 boys, we wondered who she would
be and how we would react. Would we be embarrassed? What if we got
erections in front of her? It happened a lot. Some of us had started to
develop our physiques and sported manes of pubic hair.
It
was not unheard of for women to teach swim classes at the YMCA. There
are plenty of photocopied news clippings on the internet of articles
about swim classes at the Y where women instructors are mentioned in
the article very matter of factly along with the no swimsuit rule.
Always guaranteed to raise eyebrows! When I reached the level of fish
our instructor was a female who also taught PE at a local high school.
Miss Radibaugh was her name. She made all us boys feel quite at ease. I
liked her because of that, but she had since moved away so I knew it
would not be her.
When it was announced that a female
instructor had been selected and that classes would resume after being
canceled for a week, that Saturday morning class of nervous lads talked
only about one thing: being naked in front of a woman teacher. I
remember trying persuade them the fear was all in their minds. She had
most certainly seen plenty of naked boys before. Swimming naked at the
Y was just what we did no matter what gender the instructor was. Had we
not swam plenty of times with a female lifeguard on duty? Some boys
objected that we never had to interact with the lifeguards. True
enough. And I had to admit, we really were not quite boys anymore.
As we lathered up in the open shower room, someone noticed that one of
us was missing. Larry, an overweight boy, had been shy about being
naked around even us boys. We assumed he had dropped out. We were
right. As we finished our showers we lined up at the entrance to the
pool for our skin inspection. The usual male attendant, who had been
listening in, mocked us as he rubbed our forearms deeply with this
thumb to check if we were clean. “You best keep your hands at your
sides! She’s going to see your little pee pees anyway. You guys are
babies. Man up. Deal with it.”
As each of us was released
from inspection, we lined up again along the pool facing the water.
Shoulder to shoulder. We were silent now. Some boys hands were at the
their sides, as were mine. Several boys cupped their privates. All eyes
were on the far doorway at the end of the pool. Who would it be?
Finally, the door opened and out she came. The first thing I noticed
was how tall she was, statuesque with a terrific figure. I had seen her
several times before in the lifeguard chair. Once she had even smiled
at me. I realized that always seeing her sitting never showed off how
tall she was. I guessed her to be about 5’8”. She wore the standard
issue Y tank top, modest but the lycra material form fitting like a
second skin. It was quite evident the suit did not have any liners. Had
she removed them? Her nipples beneath the fabric were quite pronounced.
Her full head of long blond hair bounced as she walked.
Full
breasted and long legged she was breath taking. Walking up and down in
front of us with a clipboard in her right hand, she finally stopped at
the first boy near the far end of the pool.
He was already
fully erect, but she seemly did not notice as she lifted his forearm
and rubbed it with her thumb. Satisfied, she looked up and scanned the
line of us. I looked to my right. Several other boys were erect as
well, no doubt in reaction to her beauty.
She put her
clipboard down on the rise for the bleachers and stood up. “So, is
everyone showered and clean? If I find dirt on anyone, I’m sending them
back to the showers.” She slowly moved down the line rubbing forearms.
She had to yank some of the forearms up on the boys who were cupping
themselves. The fear in their eyes was met with a scowl.
I
was not covering myself and when she got to me I raised my forearm for
her. She smiled sweetly, rubbed it and then looked down and too slowly
took my other forearm. Now I was at least half hard and growing. I was
feeling quite a tingle with her standing right in front of me, too
close for comfort I thought.
Why wasn’t she moving on down
the line? She put her hand on my chest pressed and massaged. “It’s just
a mole!” I exclaimed. Once again she smiled then looked me up and down.
“So it is.” The warmth of her hand increased my tingle and now like
several of the other boys, I was fully at attention down there too.
The boy to my right must have been too nervous. His wiener looked like
it had retracted. She looked at his forearm briefly, looked back at me
then moved to the next boy. It seemed like an eternity had passed
before she had finished inspecting all of us.
When she had
finished inspecting everyone, she stood mid row in front of us. “My
name is Claire Reese. That’s two words. First and last name. I will be
finishing the swim instruction for Mr. Randall. I assume everyone knows
about his fatal accident.”
There were murmurs of
acknowledgment. “Does anyone have any problem being taught by a female
instructor?” No one spoke. At least she had acknowledged the unusual
nude male suited female dynamic.
“All right then, I want
everyone to jump into the water. Everyone start kicking.” She walked
over to her clipboard to retrieve it. “While everyone is kicking I will
ask each one of you individually to swim the length of the pool and
back so I can assess your abilities. Bill Fredricks, you first.”
Soon she had called everyone’s name but mine. Had I been overlooked?
Nope. She walked over to me and squatted down. Her crotch was at my eye
level. I forced myself to look up from the view of her shapely legs and
outline of her round bottom. I was getting hard again.
“You
must be Bro Robinson. It says here you are one of the better swimmers.”
I nodded agreeably. “I want you to swim up and back twice. Can you do
that?”
“Yes mam.”
“My name is Claire.”
“Yes Claire.” I swam the pool length twice and as soon as I was
finished she blew the whistle around her neck and called for everyone
to take a break and get out of the water.
We reassembled in
the same line. “Some of you need to up your game or you are not going
to pass this course.” She walked over to me, leaned in and quietly
said, “You’re not even breathing hard. I like that. By the way Miss
Radibaugh asked me to send you her warm regards.”
“Yes Claire. And I send her mine.”
“Everyone spread out and give me twenty jumping jacks.”
There was a hesitation. Mr. Randall had never asked us to do that.
“Come on! I don’t have all day!”
Once everyone was bouncing and flopping, she walked our line watching
each one of us. While it was intimidating, I also found it quite
arousing when she stopped to watch me.
If she did anything
more than furtively notice me I don’t remember it. I do recall that she
liked to have me take my breaks doing dives on the diving board. She
was a big fan of bouncing on the end to test the oscillation of the
board, she claimed. It was against the rules to bounce, but she was an
adamant believer in it -- at least for me. The one time I commented to
her about it she replied she was enjoying watching my form develop and
then quietly under her breath I heard, “and your diving too.”
I remember times when I was more than furtively noticed. As I mentioned
earlier, while the general public was no longer allowed to watch us,
our parents and their invited guests were. It did not take long for a
girl to simply announce that she was the guest of so and so’s mother
instead of being his good friend. I don’t remember any mother ever
objecting. So much for the new rules. Girls were determined to get
their cheap thrills.
I remember when cousin Dan and I did
the swim classes together. As his Mom and my Mom lived to close by,
they would take turns dropping us off then swing by later to pick us up
after errands downtown. Everyone at the front desk knew these women
well and would let them watch us finish our class. Sometimes cousin Sue
would be with Aunt Dode when she was picking Dan and I up.
Sometimes my sister Jeannie would be with my Mom when it was her turn.
When Aunt Peggy’s oldest boy started wrestling we would often watch
Mike at meets and Mom would reciprocate by inviting Peggy and her
daughter Karen to attend parents’ night. Peggy was not our biological
aunt, she had been Mom’s best friend in high school, later a close
neighbor, and her daughter the default babysitter. So she was always
known as Aunt Peggy at our house. The made Karen my “cousin”. Right.
Did she know how fortunate she was? I think she did.
Men
seemed to be mostly missing from the audience, except possibly when it
was parents’ night when we would demonstrate for our families all that
we had learned at the end of the course.
But back to Karen:
I was always especially conscious of her presence as I was more than a
little fond of her even though she was two years old than me. It was
both embarrassing and arousing knowing her eyes were glued to my boy
parts, especially as I advanced in the swim courses. Normally I averted
my eyes from the small audience, usually no more than 20, maybe 25
people. But when Karen was watching, I was totally distracted. She
watched me while I watched her. I would invariably become erect. My
mind would go back to when she would give me baths and how much I loved
that. The older I got the more frequently Karen would be sitting with
Aunt Peggy my Mom and sister Jeannie. Mostly it was what it was, unless
it happened that it wasn’t. That was the case with Karen.
The last three classes all us boys were abuzz because Claire had a new
assistant from France. Michelle was her name. A super cute brunette
with short wavy curls and a lithe athletic figure the problem with
stiffies was back in a big way, Moms or no Moms in the audience.
Michelle paid no attention to that. Claire warned us not to try to talk
to her as she spoke no English. Every time I saw her my mind would race
trying to remember phrases from French class. “Bonjour Michelle!
Comment allez vous?” I might get a perfunctory smile in return.
She seemed to like working with me though. Michelle said I needed to
work on my back stroke and would hold me up to watch me swim in place.
I never thought that much about it even though her one hand would
always find my butt cheeks. None of the other boys were even learning
the back stroke and I felt special because she wanted me to improve it.
She was working with me during the next to the last class
session. I had been doing a butterfly kick and got a cramp in my front
quad muscles. I moved to the shallow end and started limping around.
Michelle took my hand and led me to the lowest bench in the bleachers
section. She motioned me to lie down.
“Where hurt? Here?” I
nodded. My left quadriceps was sending shooting pain all through my
leg. “I fix. Be still.” Michelle started massaging my leg. Claire came
over to check if everything was alright.
“My quad muscle
just went into spasm!” I raised my head to watch Michelle. She was
straddling my leg, almost sitting on it. I put my head back down. The
cramp was subsiding.
“You want I stop now?”
“No. Don’t stop. That feels good.”
“Okay. No stop.” Her hands moved higher on my leg and now she was
working on my adductor muscles. I started feeling a warm and then a
tell tale tingle. I raised my head and looked at her hands. My penis
which was laying on top of my left leg was growing and starting to
rise. Michelle’s eyes were riveted on it. Her hands moved a little
higher and now the back of her right hand was brushing against my ball
sack. More tingles. Damn! I was now at full attention and still
growing. Her hands slowed down and now her movements felt more like a
loving caress.
“You feel better. Oui?”
“Yes!” I
looked at the end of my penis and there was fluid dripping out of it.
My hips were making involuntary thrusting movements.
Michelle was taking it all in. “You want me fix. I fix for you. She
made a stroking motion with her hand up and down. “I have brothers.”
She looked contrite, put her hand on her heart. “I feel bad. I do this.
I can fix now? Oui?”
My mind was reeling. Right here? Right
now? Seriously? In front of everyone? I didn’t know what to say. Then I
saw a rivulet of fluid run from her crotch down the inside of her
thigh. I pointed to it. “Um, Michelle!” She looked down to see it,
swiped it with her finger and turned beet red. “I get towel.”
Just then I heard, “Oh my goodness gracious!” I looked up to my right
to see two of the mothers leaning over looking right down on me. I
immediately cupped myself and as I did so I saw Claire running towards
us. Michelle, embarrassed by the women, and her dripping thigh, turned
away from Claire to get her towel.
“Michelle get you all
taken care of Bro?” I had sprung up to a sitting position, turning my
back to the two mothers. Claire looked at my fully erect oozing member.
She laughed out loud. “No problem Bro. Nobody here but us chickens! Why
don’t you get back in the water so you can cool down?” I was more than
happy to oblige.
Claire looked at the two bug eyed mothers, shrugged and simply said. “Hey, it happens!”
Nothing more was said. I did cool down. But sitting quietly in the cool
water while I slowly deflated, I was hit with a revelation. The YMCA’s
policy to allow outside visitors now made total sense. The Y wanted
nothing hidden. There was nothing to hide in its mind. In my mind,
women were afforded plenty of liberties to take with us boys due to the
double standard in place. It was clear to me now that visitors also
acted as chaperons and probably kept the instructors somewhat honest.
If we had to endure the embarrassment of allowing visiting girls some
cheap thrills, it was probably a small price to pay to keep larger
abuses in check.
I was hit with a second revelation. Nearly
all the times we boys were ever fondled, groped, our penises held, made
to do jumping jacks, etc, etc, were times no one was sitting in the
bleachers! What was that? Half the time?
Not being able to
relieve myself left me with a bad case of blue balls that I could only
fix after the class ended and I could immediately take a stall in the
restroom to relieve my discomfort. And then again after I got home,
--several times. The nude male suited female dynamic could be most
intense and at odds with the raging hormones of puberty.
And
now, I come to the post class graduation: parents and family day where
we got to demonstrate our newly learned skills. It remains one of the
highlights of my life. I was a full fledged Shark now, the highest
level. I had done it!! Cousin Dan had dropped out at level Fish. I was
the best swimmer in the whole family!!!
A larger than
ordinary audience watched us perform that Saturday, again mostly all
females: Mothers and daughters. Aunt Peggy and Karen were there too. I
was feeling much more confident in my skills and with my body and would
show off for her by doing the jumping jack trick so she could watch it
flop and bounce. I felt so naughty when her eyes opened wide. Every
time I exited the water I would turn in her direction and bounce a bit.
I could tell it was getting to her. Good.
With the last lap
done, and me fresh out of the pool dipping wet and totally naked as per
protocol, Mom took a photo of me holding my waterproof laminated
certificate in my left hand. Claire stood on my left leaning in with
her arm around me, giving me a shoulder hug, while shaking my right
hand just beaming. “You were terrific tonight,” she whispered in my
ear. Had her lips accidentally brushed against my ear, or had that been
on purpose? She knew how got my tingles going! On my right my sister
Jeannie was planting a kiss on my cheek, one hand on my lower abdomen
right above my pubes, the other not so subtly caressing my butt cheeks.
Aunt Peggy and Karen stood back a bit, but they were both beaming with
pride.
After the photo, Mom and Claire talked on and on, as
they usually did. Claire enthusiastically told Mom I needed to enroll
in the next advanced class for the lifeguard certification. I needed to
be sixteen for that Claire said. Mom said that would be March 2nd.
Claire winced and replied that the class was due to start in mid
January but she could probably get me in. Claire looked right at me.
“You do want to take that course, right. As my star pupil I really want
you in it.”
I was her star pupil? I was stunned an
overwhelmed. Waves of emotion welled up in me and I wanted to kiss her.
I had wanted to be her star pupil so badly and always wondered if I was
good enough for her the way she worked me so much harder than the other
boys. Still in a daze I heard my mother exclaim, “Of course he does.
Right Bro?” I finally snapped out my daze and hopped up and down,
especially for Karen’s benefit. “Yes! Yes! I can hardly wait!!”
Claire looked right at my mother grinning. “I just love it when he does that.”
“We do too!” Mom and Jeannie replied in unison. I could feel myself
blushing because I knew what they meant. They had also enjoyed seeing
it flopping up and down. I had never been such an exhibitionist before!
But I was the king swimmer now!
Then my euphoria burst.
Claire raised her hand in caution. “I need everyone to know it looks
like Fred Landis will probably be teaching the boys advanced
certification and I will be teaching the girls. Suddenly it was frowns
all around. Claire put her hand on my shoulder. “Bro, don’t be sad. Mr.
Landis is a really good instructor. You will learn a lot from him.”
“Oh. I thought when you said you wanted me in it because I was your star pupil, you meant your class.” I was crestfallen.
Mom, Jeannie and Claire continued talking while I glumly went to the
locker room to put some clothes on. When I came back out they were all
still in high gear chatting away about how much they loved the Y’s
swimming programs. Mom was most animated telling Claire that if it were
up to her all the boys swim classes would be taught by women and Claire
heartily agreed!
When I got near Karen she started rubbing
my back, telling me how proud of me she was. I was eating it up. Aunt
Peggy turned to Mom. “I think we had better get going. George will have
the coals hot for the cookout. I bet our guest of honor is famished,
and we best not keep him waiting.” We all agreed and said goodbye to
Claire.
In the car listening to them talk about me made me
feel a bit better but I could already feel myself missing Claire’s
classes and during the ride home I was pretty quiet. Mom tried to
console me. “You really like Claire don’t you? And I could tell she
really likes you too!”
I lifted my head and looked into
Mom’s eyes via the rear view mirror. “I tried my best for her Mom. I
worked harder for her than the other kids. She rewarded me with more
breaks even though some of the kids called me Teacher’s Pet.”
“Nothing wrong with a student having a crush on his teacher! I could
tell when we were all talking together that she was really good for
your development.” She was grinning like a Cheshire Cat.
“And especially in certain areas,” Jeannie chortled.
“Jeannie! That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh yeah, right! You can’t fool me Mom!”
“Well even if it was, there is nothing wrong with a Mom being proud of
her son’s development. And don’t think I didn’t notice you caressing
Bro’s butt when I took his picture.”
“I believe Bro noticed
me the most, that I was caressing his butt. We’ll have proof of that
when the photo comes back.” Another naughty chortle, including Karen.
I realized in that moment that I had gotten pretty erect. Would that be
in the photo? Damn it. “Hey! I’m sitting right here. I would like if
you two could stop acting like I’m not! You two are simply shameless if
you ask me.”
Jeannie turned around. “Bro, we didn’t ask you. Did we Mom?”
I simply sighed. Karen who was sitting between me and Jeannie in the
back seat scooted over closer and took my hand. She was giving me a
look that I had never seen before. I was not sure what it meant until
she moved her hand again. It was now resting on my upper thigh.
Suddenly there were those tingles.
I looked at her like I
wanted to kiss her and she moved her hand more to the inside of my leg,
right at my crotch. It was stiffening up pretty fast and inching along
the inseam of my trousers. I could see the outline of its bulging head.
Karen’s fingers found that and gave it a squeeze, Then another. Her
fingers were running along the underside of it as if to see how long it
was getting. Then more squeezes. I could not believe this was happening
in the car with Mom and Aunt Peggy in the front seat. Jeannie was
looking out the window. Her squeezes became more rhythmic and firmer
coupled with slight back and forth strokes. I knew I could not last
much longer and just as we pulled into our driveway I let loose. My
groan turned into a shout. “Ahhhoohaa, it’s so good to be home!” I
flung open the car door and burst into the house shouting I needed to
pee.
Going up the stairs to my room I looked in horror and
the growing wet spot on my trousers. I quickly changed underwear and
then into a pair of jeans. I would say I wanted to be more casual for
the cookout. Fortunately no one questioned me.
The cookout
in my honor was just as festive as I thought it would be. I took a lot
of compliments on my swimming ability, which I enjoyed. Uncle George
and Dad were back slapping me and talking me up. I knew I was avoiding
Karen’s gaze, with me glancing away when our eyes met.
Later
in the afternoon I headed into her ranch house to use the bathroom. It
was a half bath but had a large vanity mirror on a door for the towels
and situated right in front of the toilet. I unzipped and started to
relieve myself and thinking about how good Karen had made it feel
earlier. I heard a brief knock and the door flew open. It was Karen.
“Sorry. I have to pee too. Can you hurry?” She watched me as the stream
slowed down. I had barely finished when she brushed in front of me,
dropped her slacks and panties. “You didn’t get to shake it. Here.” She
was holding a small square of toilet paper. I took it and dabbed the
head which was already starting to inflate. She took the tissue back
then dropped it into the toilet bowel between her open legs. “I feel
bad you didn’t get to finish in the car.” I heard her flow stopping and
change to squirts. Now she was dabbing at her crotch with a piece of
tissue. I can do that now if you want.”
“But you did finish. You got my undies soaking wet. That’s why I ran into the house.”
She looked up at me and grinned. “And you changed your pants too.”
Still seated she turned slightly to flush and reached out for me.
“Looks like you are ready again, if you want me too.”
“Yes.
Yes. Oh please.” Her fingers were sliding down my shaft testing how
turgid I was. Then she stood up and stepped out of her slacks and
panties. “You can do me too. Put your fingers right there. Oh geezus.
Yes.”
She put her right leg up on the toilet seat and I
stepped back and to the side so I could look at her in the mirror. Her
lips were wide open with her leg up like that. I could see her pink
lips beneath the thin covering of trimmed pubic hair.
“Kiss me Bro. Give me some tongue. Oh. Oh. Now three fingers.”
My hand was soaking wet with her juices. Her hand was stroking me hard
and fast. I was so turgid I though I might burst the skin. I broke the
kiss. “Karen, I...Oh. Oh shit.” Now her hand was all wet and so was the
front of her blouse where I spraying her. I was shooting much more now
than the first time. Spasm after spasm. Spurt after spurt. My fingers
inside her slowed down as I panted for breath.
“Don’t stop.
Keep rubbing Bro.” I sped up working the edge of my hand into he cleft.
She cried out. “Oh god! Jeezus! Yes. Oh yes!”
Suddenly there
was a pounding on the bathroom door. “Hey! What’s going on in there?”
Caught by her brother Mike. I knew I had to think fast. “Mike it’s
okay. I just spilled something on her blouse. We’re washing it.” Karen
started laughing.
“Well hurry up damn it, I have to go.”
“We’ll be right out.” She was still laughing even as she pulled her
blouse off to run it under the faucet. “Damn you really shoot a lot,
don’t you?”
I leaned in and whispered, taking in her lacy
bra. “I totally lost control.” I looked her over standing there in just
her bra I took i how her shapely knees, legs and round butt flowed
together. The little triangle of hair. I had never seen her that way
before. I finally responded.
“I made quite a mess didn’t I, but I’ll take that as a compliment.” Then shouting, “We’re just about done in here Mike!”
“I hope so!!”
As Karen put her blouse back on and refastened her slacks, I opened the
door. “We had to get the stain out.” I knew I was looking sheepish.
“Yeah, right.” Missing nothing he looked right at my zipper. “Fly’s open! Better zip up. Jeezus sis, really?”
I turned beet red and Karen did too. Later, we were laughing about what
would have happened if it had been her Dad, or mine. It was an unspoken
rule that Karen was to be treated as a sister even though neither of us
thought of each other as siblings.
The sky turned dark, the
moon came out and all the parents took forever saying their goodbyes.
Mom took her usual place behind the wheel, Dan who did not like to
drive that much took shotgun. Jeannie and I sat in the back.
Mom was still euphoric and smiley. “Bro, as soon as we get home I’m
going to fill out the application for you for the advanced course I saw
in the latest Y newsletter.”
And that is what we did as soon
as we got home. I think Jeanie was the most excited for me. She was all
over me with hugs and kisses as I tried to put on my PJs after my
shower.
For the next few weeks I plotted and schemed how I
could fit in practice sessions at the Y when Claire was there. But who
was I kidding. She was older than me and no doubt had boyfriends and a
rich social life. I was back in my funk.
But then I got an
early Christmas present. Mom answered the phone the Saturday before
Christmas. It was Claire. My heart started racing. I wanted to grab the
phone away from her.
“Oh, I am so sorry to hear that. But you’ll be filling in? Wow. That’s wonderful!”
Mom turned toward me, pointed at the receiver and gave me a thumbs up.
“And all the doors will be secured? Yes I will be sure and tell him.
Wait. Hold on. I’ll ask him.” She drew her finger across her waist.
“Claire wants to know what your waist size is.”
“I think
it’s 29, maybe 30 inches after I’ve eaten.” I heard Mom repeat it “Yes,
Merry Christmas to you too. I’ll tell Bro the good news as soon as I
hang up. Thanks so much!”
“What? What good news?”
“You’re going to like this. Mr. Landis is taking a position at a Y in Wisconsin. He has already put in his two week notice.”
“So who is teaching the advance swim course?”
“That is the best part. Claire is. She told me that they were going to
have to combine the classes anyway as you are the only male that signed
up for it.”
The reason she wanted your waist size is that she is
ordering Speedos for everyone in the class. Four women will be your
classmates, including that new French girl Michelle. Speedo is offering
the Y swimsuits at cost. Oh and you’ll like this. No more audience. No
more parents days. You’re an adult now. All the doors will be locked
for every class! You will have complete privacy!”
I was
stunned. That was good news. Extraordinary news. I would be seeing
Claire again. My god she was beautiful. I felt a tingle in my loins as
I thought about her. Then a sobering thought. If she was ordering
swimsuits for everyone including me then my days of swimming naked for
her were over, or bouncing on the diving board, or even jumping jacks.
Had I become an exhibitionist?
Maybe I could still coax
Michelle to massage a cramp in my leg. I knew she liked looking at me
and I really liked her to be looking. I liked it when she touched me
too, probably too much.
I wondered who the other three women
were and what they would be like. Would they like me? Maybe I could
brush up some more on my French for Michelle. What would she look like
in a Speedo tank top? Probably terrific. Would I fit in being the only
guy in the class? Wearing a bathing suit was probably a good idea at
this point. I certainly did not want to offend any of the women’s
delicate sensibilities in that regard. And another further thought: If
no one was ever going to be watching us from the stands now, there were
no checks on anyone’s behavior any longer. But we were all adults,
right?