Chapter 04 Part 02
The Pool
It took a day or two to find the time to go to the pool. I was and am a college student, after all! The first day going out in my suit found me enduring a mixture of excitement and anxiety. I wanted so desperately to be one of the swimmers who slice through the water like a hot knife through butter, but at the same time, I was incredibly embarrassed about my body. So, I donned my Speedo speedo in the privacy of my room and put on my board shorts for the walk down to the rec center. I didn’t bother with the rash guard; that stage had passed. All I slipped on was a tank top just to get me to the pool.
It felt almost like a slow motion scene going from my dorm to the pool. A suspenseful personal soundtrack played in my head. This isn’t a movie, so I can’t compose and insert my own music here. BUT, this is the internet, YouTube exists, and you can open another tab while reading this! So, I suggest you open and play this 1m29s clip in another tab while reading the next few paragraphs:
https://youtu.be/aRDsnJSn9j8 (Mentally, there was more cello, but this is the closest I can come without spending an hour hunting down what I was inwardly hearing.)
In my mind, everyone was staring at me as I walked like they could see the speedo underneath. It was a valid fear, in my defense; the speedo’s tight, unforgiving grip caused a slight but noticeable line in the loose board shorts where the thigh exits the suit. Reaching the rec center, I tensely entered my access code, hesitantly crossed the lobby, and timidly wrapped through the locker room. As the lockers and half-naked guys seemed to close in around me, I unwittingly paused just short of the door to the pool deck, frozen in apprehension with a towel, tank top (How did that remove itself? I didn’t remember taking it off.) and goggles in hand.
Going out in speedos for the first time can be difficult for many people, as I’ve read. The general consensus seems to be that the problem has to do with modesty, how your package gets advertised to everyone. Contrarily, my biggest fear was putting this much of my out-of-shape body on display. The guys weren’t as much of a concern for a few reasons. I could handle whatever the guys thought of my package. I’m not showing any goods that they haven’t seen or don’t have themselves; only, I’m better, uh, *insulated* for the cold winter months. Additionally, they shouldn’t judge me for being out of shape while in a specialized swim suit at the pool if I’m there to exercise and improve myself. It would be like teasing a guy who doesn’t bench as much as you if they’re just starting out compared to your years of experience; they’re a work in progress. Lastly, if I boned up, I thought (hoped) they’d understand. But, it was the girls I was most nervous about. Not being happy with the shape I was in, I didn’t want to show off too much of myself to them. (And, in my defense, having thick thighs makes your bulge look relatively smaller.) As a straight guy, the last thing I wanted to do was detract girls with my body, bulge, or choice of clothing.
“Alright, this is it. There’s no need to panic about it,” I reassured myself. “You’re there to swim, just like every other guy and girl out there in the pool. You’re dressed appropriately, so just go for it.”
My heart raced, probably from the effort of supplying blood to my stomach which was, at the time, attempting to digest the butterflies which had suddenly appeared.
After what felt like half an hour of deliberation, I couldn’t quite bring myself to go straight out on the pool deck in just the speedo. No, no, I would need to warm up to it. Instead of just strutting my stuff from the outright, I wore my board shorts over the speedo itself. I only semi-confidently slithered out of the locker room to the pool, as quickly and unnoticeably as possible, where I was faced with a hoard of sun-soakers and a pool nearly brimming with swimmers. I was suddenly very glad I hadn’t quite had the confidence yet; I’d much rather ease into it with this many witnesses.
I chose a lane as far away from the lifeguard as possible; that way, my brain speculated, they couldn’t easily see how utterly rubbish I was at swimming, nor would they easily notice my speedo. I took a few last deep breaths, put my goggles on, and jumped in. I stripped off the board shorts underwater and so no one could see my suit underneath unless they watch me underwater or follow my laps from a high vantage point.
Time for a new soundtrack piece:
https://youtu.be/Ry4BzonlVlw?t=43s. (Shoutout to the Piano Guys for being 100% amazing!)
It was such a different experience from swimming with board shorts. The suit ended up providing the perfect balance of package display, design interest, ease of motion, and boner management. If anything, the craziness and brightness of the pattern would hide any signs of arousal by distracting the observer from growing contours or shadows. Fortunately, I didn’t develop a major physical reaction to the situation and consequently test my theory. In fact, I remained relatively unaroused for the duration of the swim. The experience of the swim itself was rewarding in and of itself. I could feel the water moving along the contours of my legs. The lack of drag was a relief to my muscles and respiratory system. I felt a million miles per hour quicker, like a pro swimmer. And best of all, I could twist and turn and kick my legs more freely with the lack of fabric restriction.
Later on, though, when I was approaching the end of my workout when I’d have to get out of the pool, I began feeling a stir again. I wasn’t very well positioned in the suit, so as it grew it became sort of like a rudder guiding me through the water. It certainly helped my stability.
When it came time to get out, I put my board shorts back on underwater and found the nearest ladder to climb out. (I wasn’t about to try to roll out of the pool like a beached seal trying to maneuver on land.) I collected my things and left, feeling somewhat accomplished. I’d finally done it! I’d worn and swum in my speedo in public!
This routine of taking my shorts off after getting in the pool went on for a couple months, generally without incident. There were one or two times, though, that I would reach the end of the lane and then would be horrified to see a friend standing there that had somehow recognized me! They had to have noticed my speedo! I would attempt to hold a conversation with them, after restarting my heart, of course. Eventually, they’d go away so I could leave my position as close to the wall as possible so they couldn’t see what I’m wearing, or at least couldn’t get a closer look at how I fit in it!
Eventually, I reached the point where swimming in briefs was somewhat normal to me such that there were no more unwarranted displays of arousal. It just takes time to grow accustomed to the suit. I therefore answered the question I’d asked myself the second time I’d tried on a speedo. “How on Earth do the swimmers hide their constant boners?!” Answer: the hard-ons get less constant as you spend more time in them.
Regardless, after building confidence doing the actual laps in a speedo, I decided that this regular undressing and redressing was getting tiresome, and I still didn’t feel comfortable being seen in the speedos. I needed to be able to wear something that I could be seen in both in and out of the water. Thus my hunt for a jammer began.
Aaaaaaaannnnnnnd…kill the music.