I was a freshman in a big city high school in the ‘70s and wasn’t surprised when in my first semester I had swimming and for “public health reasons,” all of the boys would do it naked. I had been warned by my older brothers and coming from a family of nine kids, including sisters and a continually nursing mother, I wasn’t shy, or a stranger to the nude body.
On the first day we were instructed that if we heard three short bursts of the whistle, we were to get out of the pool quickly, line up on the edge and face the bleachers, because there may be an emergency and somebody would be there to give us instructions.
There were about 40 boys in the class, of all races, all pubescent, although there were a few that were probably barely, by the sparse hair on their cocks and balls. A few boys were older, or more advanced, as evidenced by their thicker bushes or larger penises. Many looked like me, uncut and white, about half were circumcised, but I tried not to stare. Still, it was the first time I saw a dick that wasn’t my dad’s or brother’s or cousin’s.
We all jumped in the pool and swam around, getting used to the water. It felt good on my naked body and it was something I had never done. As it was many times during the day as a young teenager, my dick was rock solid. I jerked off many times a day to relieve myself back then…
Suddenly, the whistle blew three times and we all jumped out and lined up on the edge of the pool. In the chill, my balls pulled in tight and my young cock was erect, of course. The coach was about four rows up in the bleachers and laughed, “all right men, there’s about 12 of you with boners, stiffies, hard-ons, WOOOOD! We don’t swim naked because this is a nudist camp, we swim naked because of the rules! I don’t think any of you guys are fairies, but there’s no grab-ass in the pool. Concentrate on swimming and your peckers will stay down! Get back in there!” There was some nervous laughter among the boys and we jumped back into the pool.
As time went on, I kept looking at other guy’s dicks, mostly in the locker room and I noticed a few other guys looking too. We dressed slower. Since we had lunch period after swimming, a few of us started eating together, though we never talked about anything other than school and girls.
The coach whistled again the next week and there were seven with erections. He shook his head and said, “Keep your mind on the swimming, damn it.”
When he did it the next time it was after the Columbus Day holiday and there was a higher number of absences, so less chance of a group of hard dicks. I was the only kid with a hard on. Coach seemed pleased as he looked down the line until he got to me. He dunked a small towel in the pool, threw it to me and ordered me onto the end of the diving board. When I got there, my cock was still hard, even though I was starting to get scared. He ordered the other boys to turn around and scorn me. Then coach yelled, “Cover that boner with the towel!” Seeing those 30 soft dicks lined up, even as they began laughing at me with a wet towel draped over my stiff tent pole, was humiliating at the same time it excited me. I got the first inkling of how thrilling a good humbling can feel and I felt oddly proud that I was “different,” the same way I would feel, years later, in a group of young men as the only one willing to be the “cum bucket” at a frat party…I noticed my friend Steve, one of my lunch buddies, an Asian boy with a thick bush of black pubic hair and a long thin cock, at the end of the line getting an erection as he watched my humiliation. This made me more bold and hard and when the coach saw it wasn’t making me soft, he told everyone to jump back in the pool.
The coach didn’t whistle again that semester. He never said a word to me and gave me an A in the section. Some of the guys gave me shit, but I was a good athlete and student and never heard much about it since. I think they were happy it wasn’t them…Every now and then I beat-off to the memory of that day.
That semester I did have the true stirrings of my own sexuality, actually, bisexuality. I like the shape and form of the penis, I love what it does. I’m a bit of an exhibitionist. My friend Steve and I had a couple of sleepovers. We didn’t know how men pleased each other. There was no internet. He was the first boy/man I ever got down on my knees in front of (Still a favorite position of mine!) and kissed and licked his beautiful cock and balls, stroking it. We beat off in front of each other and I tasted some of his cum, acquiring a taste for other men’s cum that I still enjoy. I enjoy a man’s cock in my mouth and in my ass. I never had Steve’s completely, although I still jack off to him too.
I have swam in many public pools since then and changed in many locker rooms. I have knelt in front of a few anonymous Asian men and sucked their dicks dry, even in front of other men, thinking back to my freshman year and my “humiliation.” I usually stop at one blow job, but there have been times…
Frank Mills writes real stories from his life and the life of friends for real people. They don’t feature models and porn stars. Names and details are changed to protect the innocent.