Strange Memory
This is a totally true story, as I remember it. Probably even more shocking in retrospect than when it originally happened, with the increasing vigilance regards what is "appropriate" in adult/child interaction. My small private school acquired funds to build a full gymnasium when I was in 7th grade and so it was determined that all the top grades, 7th - 9th at this school, would have phys ed as a requirement, even though state law only prescribed a certain number of credits in P.E. for those in high school. The school was co-ed but gym classes were single sex and basically the only requirement was that you "dress out" i.e. don the uniform shorts and t-shirt you were given, and do a few calisthenics. After we finished those, it was basically recess in the gym: the jocks would start shooting baskets or playing floor hockey and the rest of us would sit on the bleachers and talk, There was a shower room in the boys locker room (I assume the girls had one too), but no one ever took a shower after P.E. class, everyone just changed back into their regular school clothes and went to their next class. But then, in 8th grade, that changed. After the first week of school, the P.E. teacher, who was known simply as "coach" gathered us together at the end of class and informed us that there were a lot of complaints from teachers and other students that the boys coming back from gym class were stinking up the class rooms and that henceforth, showers would be mandatory at the end of class. I don't know if it was true about the complaints, but if it was, it could only have been in regard to those jocks who did more than the compulsory calisthenics at the start of class, because they were the only ones who even worked up a sweat. I remember the jocks were the ones who openly expressed annoyance about the new rule because the shower was going to cut into their game playing time. I was silently dreading the experience of being naked in front of my school mates. I was just on the brink of realizing I was gay at that time, but not completely accepting it. I hated a great many of my school mates and had NO desire to see them naked and most certainly didn't want to show my naked self to any of them. It was hard enough for me to rapidly change into my gym clothes in front of my locker, first changing shirts then pants and never removing underwear. Now I was going to have to be naked with these creeps in a big open shower? Ick! Now, I have learned that there was once a great tradition of males swimming nude in schools and single sex public pools, but this was the early 80's and I'd only ever encountered locker room nudity when a friend's family would take a bunch of us to the local civic center for a swim, which required a shower before entering the pool. On those occasions, I found that I did enjoy taking a quick, discrete peek around the locker room at the exposed dicks and butts of strangers, but pretty much only the grown men, not the other kids. This new gym rule did not forebode anything positive for me. Or so I thought. So when the time came, we all filed back into the locker room at the end of class and the coach came out of his office wheeling a cart that was stacked with cheap thin white towels and we were all instructed to grab one, go stow our gym clothes in our lockers and report to the shower room. A minute later, the 13 or so naked 8th grade boys in my gym class were evenly distributed among the 8 shower heads, four on opposite walls, in the shower room, those arriving latest having to share, everyone just basically looking at the floor and letting a little water cascade over them for a minute then getting out of the way for another boy. I suddenly heard coach's voice and became aware that he'd been standing in the doorway of the shower room the whole time watching us. "Look guys" he said, "you really need to get yourselves clean and fresh smelling so no one can tell you've just been working out. Let me show you." Now coach was a really gorgeous man, the absolute stereotype of a gym teacher, in shorts and a polo type shirt with a whistle hanging from his neck and a clipboard always in his hands, with a firm round butt and super muscular calves, pecs that bulged out from under his shirt and a tapered V shaped waist. He was about 5' 11" with thick sandy blond hair cut short and a thick blond porn stache (though the term hadn't been coined then). He was a no-nonsense man but never mean or bullying. He devoted his teaching energies to the jocks and pretty much ignored us non-jocks, which was fine with everybody. And now, he was going to show a group of 13 year old boys how to shower!
Without a second's hesitation, he set down his clipboard and whistle on a locker room bench and peeled of the polo shirt and kicked off his sneakers, socks and shorts and joined us in the locker room. "Guys, you've got to soap yourselves up!" he said taking a generous glob from the wall dispenser into his hand and rapidly rubbing it all over his lovely and hairy upper body. "Really work it into a lather, on your skin! Get it on your neck, your arms and in particular on your under arms, that's where you really stink!" And he showed us by doing exactly that to himself. Now, here's the part that had me questioning my memory for many years: all the while he was doing this, coach was openly and unabashedly sporting a very impressive, very full erection! Not a burgeoning chubby, not one of those hard-ons that point out, perpendicular to the body, his was at full mast and pointing almost straight up! It was awesome! And almost as fascinating as it's momentary physiological condition, was the fact that the whole area was clearly the subject of some very careful barbering: the scrotum was hairless and the lovely blond pubes surrounding it were buzzed down to a short, fine brush.
I don't know if I was staring or what, but coach looked right at me and barked "C'mon Jeff, you too! Get lathered up! Now!" and I turned to look away and follow his instructions. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him touching his flag pole just enough to move it forward so that it didn't poke him in the belly as he bent down at the waist and began soaping up his legs. "Everybody! Wash up your legs, get your feet! Get some soap in the crack of your butt!" he continued. Then he stood back up straight and said "This is pretty decent soap. You can wash your hair with it, I recommend it." And he did just that. I began looking around at the other boys' faces to see if any of them were noticing the "elephant in the room" that I was noticing. All the boys were staring intently at the wall in front of them with serious, slightly uncomfortable looks on their faces, which I now realize indicated that, yes, of course they'd seen it, but at the time I wasn't sure. "Okay, now, rinse off! Get all the soap off your body and you're good to go. Towel off and get dressed. Shake a tail feather, the bell's going to ring in about 4 minutes and I want everybody out of here by then. Move!" His big cock still fully engorged as he barked out these instructions, I remember it at that moment waving side to side like a metronome. All the while coach acting as if there was nothing unusual happening at all. And we just did as he said. We all dried off and went back to our lockers, dressed and went to our next class. I did notice that the locker room was unusually silent as we dressed, hardly anyone talking. And even though that was the only time coach joined us in the shower, it pretty much set the tone for the whole shower ritual for the rest of the next two years: after gym class we hastily lathered up and rinsed and dried off and dressed. There was never any rough housing or wet towel snapping or any other misery making nonsense in the boys' after gym showers that I've heard of in other men's school experiences. Over the years, I've wanked myself to sleep many a night on that memory! When I go looking at internet porn, I have to save any picture that reminds me of that moment: if the guy has a cock that looks like coach's or if the guy has a face or body that reminds me of him, or it's a picture of a guy in a gym shower with an erection, I save it to my coach folder. About ten years ago, I was back home spending a week visiting my parents when I ran into one of my old class mates in a fast food restaurant. Tom was one of the less obnoxious kids from the place and we sat down and chatted for a few minutes, and since I was no longer the shy, embarrassed 8th grade kid, I said to him, "Tom, you remember when they started making us take showers after gym class?" and he immediately knew where I was going with that and said "Yeah, remember coach S____ and his big old hard on?" I said "Yes! No one ever said anything about it and I wondered if I was crazy or that really happened." "You're not crazy. He apparently did that every year. My little brother said that when coach was giving his class the shower lesson two years later, some nervy kid piped up with 'Hey coach, what's with the boner?' and the coach just snapped back with 'It's a perfectly natural thing! Normal men simply get erections sometimes. It's not always under their control. Now concentrate on getting yourself clean instead of checking out other guys in the shower!' " and we both laughed at the absolute hypocrisy of that! I asked Tom "did he ever get in trouble? Where there ever any other incidents?" Tom said no, that after teaching there for about six or seven years, coach left under good terms to take another job somewhere else and that was the last anyone in town had heard of him. Tom remarked that he may have been a "homo" but remembered that he was married, if that meant anything. I didn't offer my own theory, but it's briefly this: coach wasn't excited by the sight of naked adolescent boys. Coach was an exhibitionist. His yearly shower performance was in a twisted way for him a means of re-asserting his authority to boys who were just at the age where they might begin to challenge it. He was in effect saying "I'm the one with the biggest dick in here, I'm still the boss, in case anyone's wondering." Well coach, wherever you are, thanks for the memory!