With the onset of puberty, hair stated to grow on my body which had previously been completely bald. As I got older, hair grew around my groin and armpits and eventually on my chest. But it didn't stop there it grew everywhere. Ever since I was 13, I'd always liked the way the hair looked and felt, especially when I played with myself. I'd pound my prick with one hand and let the other trail over my tight frame, ruffling the long hairs, each and every one of which seemed to be attached to its own private nerve ending. I loved my hairy body. In my freshman year at college, I qualified for our school's swim team and was pretty fast, but not fast enough. At our last meet I was beat by some jerk by only three tenths of a second. Bummer! My coach had been a champion swimmer when he was younger, so when I got out of the pool, I asked him for pointers on how to better my time. He looked at my dripping body and at the hair plastered against it. He gave me a lecture on streamlining my silhouette and least resistance in the water and finally said that my body hair would have to go. I didn't want to loose my fuzzy carpet so made some kind of lame excuse, saying that I couldn't shave my own back. Then he said that he used to shave his buddies and they him so he had lots of experience and would gladly shave me. I wanted to win the big school meet, so agreed. But I was petrified, at the same time. Every time I saw coach in his Speedos, I popped a boner. I did this every time I was near him. I didn't know what was going to happen when I would be with him, naked. I was brought out of my daydreaming when coach said to hit the showers and not to dry off when I was done. Once in the shower, I looked at my body. My bush was soaked and my ball hairs were stuck together in points, funneling the water in silvery streams that ran down the insides of my thighs and splattered down on the rust-stained floor. I grabbed the soap and began washing myself. I ran the bar over my thick-muscled chest, across my tits, then down my belly to my crotch. My soapy fingers instinctively curled around the cylinder of flesh hanging between my legs and I started jerking off. I did it partly because I thought it might keep me from springing a rod when coach came in to shave me, but mostly I did it just because it felt so good, I couldn't resist. I stroked my soapy dick until I splattered my youthful juices all over the tile wall before me. I flicked the last drops of cum off my knob with a fingertip and saw some that had caught in the hairs of my calves. I turned the spray on them and thought that that wouldn't happen again for a while. I turned off the water and called out to the coach to let him know that I was ready. He came into the room wearing only a pair of gray gym shorts. He was a total fox. He asked if I was ready and I answered as much as I would ever be. He said to relax and it'll be a piece of cake. I saw the can of shaving cream in his left hand and a straight razor in his right. When he saw me flinch at the sight of the razor, he told me that he had a lot of practice with it and not to worry. He told me to trust him, stand still and not to fidget. Then I spread my legs and cupped my balls in my hands and pulled them up to my stomach. He knelt in front of me, spread lather in his hand and coated a leg from ankle to crotch. He deftly glided the razor up and down my leg. As the blade made a swipe, I could see globs of lather studded with hair wash down the drain. He did the other leg. He told me to turn around and he proceeded to do the same to the back of my legs. Then he told me to lean forward on the tile wall while he did my ass. It was bad enough when he shaved the backs of my thighs, but when he lathered my ass checks and told me to hold them open while he lathered up my crack, that was it, I lost it completely. I popped a hard-on that wouldn't stay down as much as I wished it to go away. After my cheeks and crack were completely hairless, coach told me to turn around so he could do my front. I hesitated and said that would not be necessary. He said that he had seen my cock hang down when he started to shave but not when he finished so he knew that I had a hard-on. He told me not to be ashamed and that it was perfectly natural. I slowly turned around. My dick almost poked him in the eye as I did. He didn't react only backed away a little and proceed to divest me of my pubic bush. When my crotch area was clean, he told me to jut out my groin so that he could shave my balls. He said that he would stretch the skin and make the process go smoother. He used the same care as he rid my balls of their fuzz, but having him soap and then shave my balls in his hand, started my juices flowing. Even after rinsing me off, precum dribbled out of my slit. Without batting an eye, coach leaned forward and licked off the droplets. Then he told me to go to the other room and lay on the table. He smeared lotion over my shaved areas saying that it would help soothe and prevent a rash. He oiled my back and then told me to flip over. I lay on my back with my dick sticking in the air like a flag pole. Coach said he had special treatment for my more sensitive areas. He lowered his mouth over my raging dick and gave me the best blow job I ever had thus far in my young life. Oh yeah, I did win the meet the next day; not only win it but I set a league record. Coach and I became inseparable. I always went to him when I needed advice on swimming techniques. I had a regular appointment with my barber to keep the hair on my head trimmed and also with the coach to keep my body trimmed and smooth. What a guy won't do to improve his sport's skills!!!!!!