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 ï>¿Swim Team Exhibitionist Coach by Nakedmasseur

   SWIM TEAM EXHIBITIONIST COACH CH.  01

   My assistant coach shows off.

   Suzanne was a senior student.  She was Asian and was in our elite
athlete program.  She was a speed swimmer who was often away during the
school year competing provincially or nationally.  She put in many hours
training with her club on a daily basis and had fulfilled her 40 hours of
"community service" requirements to graduate by helping me coach the swim
team the previous season.  It was great to have her there at the pool to
work with her peers and to hop in to the pool to demonstrate the variety of
skills required by our swimmers.

   As her final year started and she reached her 18th birthday, Suzanne
quit her intensive training.  She had had a growth spirt and had gained a
couple of inches on the hips -- and a couple of cup sizes.  Her new,
womanly figure had affected her swimming and she had decided to concentrate
on her studies.

   She was a doll.  And, of course, a highly trained swimmer.  I was able
to hire her as a lifeguard with the understanding that she could help me
with the coaching.  As I also had my aquatic qualifications, it would allow
Suzanne to enter the water to demonstrate various skills and one-on-one
instruction from time to time.  This was a particularly effective way to
teach (and thus coach) and the team loved it.

   Speedos back then were as small as was decent and tight -- for obvious
reasons.  Suzanne had an extensive collection of Speedos from her slimmer
competitive days.  They were expensive and she could still squeeze into
them with not much difficulty.  However, her Speedos struggled to maintain
decency.  They were hard pressed to contain her new curvy and robust
figure, particularly when wet.  It was understood that she was going to be
in the water, so she was OK with that.  on our first day with the team, she
simply wore a sweatshirt and thongs along with her red Speedo.

   The boys all knew Suzanne and were used to her in-water demos from the
previous season.  I wanted them to use flip turns from the start to speed
up their reps, so I had Suzanne in the pool early in the first practice of
the season.  There were a few quick double takes as she pulled her
sweatshirt off over her head and her all together too tight Speedo was on
display.  As she dove flawlessly into the pool and emerged from the water
and stood up, the wet nylon clung to her new curves.  Both her dark pubic
hair and a camel toe were apparent through the red nylon.  Only the gussets
prevented her labia and nipples from being clearly visible.

   She didn't appear to notice and she demonstrated a couple of flip turns,
remaining in the water with the boys as they attempted them on their own.
As she finished up and effortlessly hoisted herself out of the pool and
toweled herself down, she might as well have been spray painted red.  The
Speedo was like a second skin.  She appeared to me like a goddess -- a
Venice for the modern world.  Her Speedo was adequately covering her, but
hid nothing.  With her olive skin tone, a white Speedo would have appeared
transparent.  I wondered if she knew just how exposed she was.  i was
having a tough time hiding my excitement.

   I thought the boys handled it well by managing to keep their tongues
from hanging out, but her demo was spot on.  The team made great progress
right away and both Suzanne and I were happy with their effort and
progress.

   I knew that having Suzanne as a coach was having a positive effect on
the boys.  Boys being boys, they were smitten.  Honestly, so was I.  There
was no doubt that they worked more intensely with her there and her
in-water demos were effective.  The short break from their reps was
appreciated and Suzanne's lithe, womanly body gliding flawlessly through
her flip turns or the proper way to use a pull buoy were mesmerizing.

   I am not proud to tell you the next part of this story because it
reflects poorly on my professionalism.  That very day, at the end of
practice, I began what was going to become a pattern over the rest of the
season.  I was risking both my career and my reputation, but I was weak and
couldn't help myself.

   Suzanne and I took a few minutes in my office going over goals for the
next day's practice.  ii was killing time until the boys cleared out of
their change room.  They did so quickly, anxious to get going after a hard
workout.  I took a quick peak out to make sure that nothing had been left
behind and that the last swimmer had cleared out.

   Both the boys' and the girls' change rooms had doors into the pool
office.  On the inside of each door was a valuable's box : it had an open
mail slot (literally) through which students could deposit wallets, keys,
etc.  into the box to be retrieved after a practice or a pool class.  By
simply lifting the hinged lid on the box, one had a clear view directly
into the change rooms through the slot.

   i had checked out the one into the girls' change room.  The only real
drawback was the limited field of view.  The slot for the girls only
afforded a partial view of the change room.  The box itself prevented one
from being able to place their eyes close enough to the slot to get a more
complete view.  It had a direct line of view to the shower room entrance,
but only three of the more that thirty dressing room cubbies were in it's
line of sight.  What were the chances that Suzanne would choose one of
those when she had the whole place to herself?

   Suzanne answered the question for me.  As we finished up our planning,
she excused herself and left the office.  As she opened the door to her
change room, she lifted the hinged lid to the valuable's box, checked
inside, then failed to close it as she gently pushed the door closed behind
her.  As the box lid was now open, light would be coming through the
valuable's slot and she would have no way of determining whether I was
peeping in on her or not.

   As I did, indeed, peep in on her, she had situated herself in the cubby
directly in front of the slot.  I couldn't have had a clearer view.  It was
hard to imagine that it wasn't deliberate on her part.  This was my last
chance to to save my credibility, my self-respect (my job?) by simply
turning around and going about some legitimate activity or catching up on
my paperwork.

   But that's not what I did, otherwise I wouldn't be telling you about it.
I didn't withdraw and stop spying on Suzanne.  I didn't do the right thing
and stop my lecherous peeping.  I was incredibly turned on by the
wickedness of what I was doing and I wasn't going to stop.

   Suzanne did not disappoint.  It was apparent that she either knew that I
was or at least she hoped that I was watching her.  I fully appreciated the
titillation it gave me to expose myself to others and I hoped that the
thrill was equally gratifying for her.  As she slipped out of her thongs
then pulled her sweatshirt up and over her head, the Speedo was still damp
and was clinging to her skin.  She was in no hurry.  It was particularly
sensuous as both her firm breasts and hips were slowly released from their
confines as she peeled her Speedo off.

   She afforded me a full frontal view of her spectacular breasts (erect
nipples and all) as she peeled down her Speedo.  She skillfully twisted
herself in my direction to reveal her magnificent derriere directly in
front of my eyes.  She as much as said "caught cha" by twerking her cheeks
a couple of times as she shimmied her muscular thighs out of the Speedo and
let it puddle at her feet.

   Wow!  It hadn't been ten minutes since we had finished our discussions
about tomorrow's practice and here she was : on full display in front of my
voyeuristic eyes.  My feelings of guilt didn't prevent me from developing a
raging Hardon -- quite the contrary.

   I watched in fascination as she produced a tube of Nair and proceeded to
smear the cream above and to either side of her vagina and between her
cheeks.  It appeared that she had noticed how visible her pubes had been
earlier and she was going to remove them now, before the next practice. 
She would have to wait 15 minutes before showering in order to give the
cream time to do it's work.  I still hadn't changed for going home yet and
I had a raging erection that was screaming for attention.

   Both my shorts and briefs were down around my ankles.  As I awkwardly
shuffled over to the sink, my cock in my hand, there was a light knock on
the door.  It wasn't locked, so Suzanne just stepped right into the office,
a small towel draped in front awkwardly to cover her nudity.  She was
leaning forward to keep the towel from smearing the Nair.  She was
ostensibly there to borrow some shampoo but, no doubt, had hoped to catch
me peeping.

   Here I was, about to beat my meat over the sink.  I was caught
red-handed, my shorts around my ankles and my tool throbbing in my hand.  I
felt awkward as she made no attempt to look anywhere else other than at my
exposure, the strong scent of her Nair filling the room.  After an awkward
moment or two, she took the proffered shampoo in one hand, exposing a
breast.  She turned and, with a glance over her shoulder back to me, exited
the office again, through the still open door.  She left it open and
proceeded directly to the shower.  Time to wash off her Nair along with her
unwanted hair.

   If I followed her into the shower, I knew I would be in trouble.  I had
a throbbing cock and I had little doubt I would be sorely tempted by the
goddess that Suzanne was.  But taking things beyond the mutual
exhibitionism / voyeurism that we both seemed to crave, I was afraid of the
consequences of becoming physical with her.  She was, after all, a student
at the school.  Although I was not one of her teachers, she did work for me
-- I had hired her to be our lifeguard and coach.  This was only the first
day of our season!

   What I did do was wrong, but was a step (a small one) short of crossing
the line.  I removed my shirt, kicked off my shorts and briefs and followed
her into the shower.  We were both completely naked and not more than a
meter apart..  Without a word being spoken, we each proceeded to wash
ourselves without touching each other.  I watched as she thoroughly rinsed
herself off and then soap herself up and wash her hair, while at the same
time I did the same.  I masturbated and came with a shuddering orgasm,
streams of cum flying with no attempt on her part to avoid being cream
pied. We were, after all, in the shower and could wash it all down the
drain.

   Of course, we now had some awkwardness between us.  I think we both were
concerned that our professional relationship was compromised but what had
just transpired between us.  We had both let our physical attraction (dare
I say lust on my part?) get the better of us.  I could no more blame her
deliberate exposure to me as the culprit -- I had had every intention of
peeping on her regardless.

   We decided that we should both get dressed and call it a night.  We
agreed to meet the next day during last period here in the office and have
a heart-to-heart about what just happened, before practice.  What we both
knew was that we had a good thing going here with our coaching and that we
did not want to see it end.  We would find a way to make it work.



   SWIM TEAM EXHIBITIONIST COACH CH.  02

   Practice the next day is wilder than the first.

   I had been anxious all day.  Anxious to see Suzanne again (I was in
lust) but also anxious that our cozy professional relationship was about to
end before it really began.  And I was anxious about what the consequences
might be for me professionally if the truth about the day before ever got
out.  I had, after all, been peeping on a student lifeguard, had
masturbated and cream pied her in the shower and been implicit in her
exhibitionism with the swim team.

   On top of it all, I was going to be late for our impromptu meeting.  We
both had the last period free - a "study" for her and "prep" for me --
which would allow us 40 minutes together before each practice. 
Unfortunately, I was hit with an emergency "On Call" at the last minute and
had no way of contacting her to let her know.

   She had a key to the Pool Office so that wasn't the problem.  But I
needed to talk with her before the team showed up to clear the air between
us -- to see where we stood.  I had been stewing for 24 hours about the
potential fallout from my perverted and totally unprofessional behaviour
the day before -- there would have been no way to justify my actions.

   My imagination was getting the better of me and I was envisioning having
to get on my knees to beg her forgiveness and hoping against hope that, not
only could I keep my job, but that we would be able to continue to coach
the team together.  Even though she had been front and center and
participated willingly in my debauchery, she was a student at the school I
taught at and I was her employer (so to speak).  My actions would be
indefensible.  That she was 18 was the only saving grace legally I feared.

   I wasn't able to get to the pool before the final bell rang so, no
doubt, several of the swimmers would already be there, changing for the
practice.  I was not going to have more than a few moments to touch base
with Suzanne, to apologise properly for my unacceptable behaviour and to
make things right with her.  Was she upset with how her plan to catch me
peeping on her had spiraled as it did?

   As I approached the Pool Office from the deck, I was surprised to see
that the office lights were out yet the background music on.  I was
expecting that Suzanne would already be there, but the office appeared
empty.  As I opened the door and hit the light switch, I quickly realized
that she was there, sitting on the wheeled office chair.  She was hunched
over in front of the boy's valuables box, peering into their change room!
She had a dark towel draped over her head and shoulders to prevent any
light from giving her away to the changing swimmers.

   I was both shocked and relieved at the same time!  On the one hand, this
was totally beyond the limits of what would be considered tolerable, let
alone acceptable.  Suzanne was violating the expectation of privacy for our
swimmers in the most egregious way.  I knew that the boys would have been
thrilled and titillated if they were aware of this.  If they had known that
a beautiful peer of theirs was peeping at them, spying from a darkened
room, hoping to catch them unawares, at their most vulnerable.

   I was shocked by Suzanne's behavior here - and incredibly turned on!  It
wasn't a moral shock -- I was guilty of the same shameless voyeurism as she
was - my shock was more surprize than anything else.  She was only 18 and
yet indulging in a shared fetish (perversion?) that I myself felt
incredibly guilty about.  She was as much of a voyeur as I was.  It looked
like neither of us were regretting our own actions from the day before and
that we were both good with keeping each other's secrets to ourselves.

   She had acknowledged my presence by sheepishly lifting her head from her
peeping and lowered the lid, careful not to give herself away to the boys
she had been spying on.  As she disengaged herself from her spying station
and wheeled her chair over in my direction, her unbuttoned blouse dropped
off her shoulders.  Her inadequate demi-cup bra held her tits up and out
invitingly, her erect nipples all but exposed.  I suspected that she had
been tweaking them while watching the team change into their swimsuits. 
She was as much of a pervert as I was.

   I had a flaming Hardon that would be difficult to hide, so I didn't
bother trying.  She was right in front of me, her eyes level with my belt.
She spun the chair around and wordlessly invited me to massage her neck,
seeming to suggest that she might need some work there due to her peeping.
I knew that as soon as I began to knead her shoulders, the scalloped edge
of the bra would slip and release her already erect nipples.  She knew
exactly what she was doing.

   We didn't have time for this and I said as much.  Neither Suzanne or I
had changed for practice yet.  The boys were due on the deck in less than
ten minutes, so she wordlessly stood up and slipped past me, her blouse
fallen off her shoulders.  She entered the girls' change room, left the
door wide open, allowing me to watch her undress as I did the same.  I did
watch her.  Shamelessly.  I watched her as she removed her blouse
completely, exposing her inadequate bra before dropping it too to the
bench. Her skirt followed as she shimmied her hips to allow it to slip to
the floor.  Her panties soon followed.  She made no effort to hide her
nakedness, her newly bald labia on display, glistening with her recent
excitement.

   As she began stepping into her Speedo I gasped out loud in alarm.  Her
aquatic club trained in the mornings at our pool and I recognised her
Speedo as one of her club's team suits from early the previous season. 
They had had to stop wearing them during their first meet of the season. 
The suits were beautiful and looked great, but were ill-conceived for
competitive swimming.  They were totally transparent when wet.

   The team colours were red and white.  They had designed a white suit
with five strategically placed red maple leaves -- the men's with three. 
Although the red appliques were opaque, the suit itself was not.  Speedo
had offered the club new experimental suits made with Lycra replacing the
denser nylon they had been using for years.  Lycra was incredibly stretchy
and the womens' swimsuits had to be "stepped into" and pulled and stretched
into place.  Skin tight and lightweight, they were meant to set a new
standard in competitive swimwear.  Instead, they were indecent when wet.

   The team was swimming their warm up laps for their first meet of the
season when one of the officials noticed just how transparent their new
Lycra Speedos were.  Instead of looking sharp and distinctive, the whole
team had to change swimsuits before the heats.  The embarrassment for the
team was acute.  This was the swimsuit Suzanne intended to wear in practice
today.  I was horrified and told her I couldn't let her in the water if she
wore that Speedo, but she wouldn't be dissuaded, putting it on anyways.

   As concerned as I was about what Suzanne was wearing, I realized that
the shorts that I had just changed into could not hide my erection.  She
had slipped into her thongs and a cropped sweatshirt and was heading out
onto the deck to open the change room door to let the swimmers out.  In a
huff, she commented that I had to do something about my own predicament and
worry less about her.

   She was right.  I couldn't be on the deck in this state and scrambled
for a solution.  I ended up hiding behind a filing cabinet to take care of
business.  It didn't take me very long to beat my meat and the towel I had
handy allowed me to prevent making a mess.  I felt ashamed of myself and
wondered how I could have let myself get into such a state.  Masturbating
in the office while the team was on the deck -- WTF!

   As my cock was now in a more presentable state, I pulled up my shorts
and stepped onto the deck.  I was alarmed to see everyone in the pool --
including Suzanne.  The lifeguard should not have been in the pool without
another qualified instructor on the deck.  That would be me!

   As the team swam their initial warm up laps, Suzanne had defiantly
joined them.  As much as this alarmed me, I couldn't help but admire how
easy it was for her to outpace all of them and just how flawless her
strokes were.  Several of the boys had paused in their reps and were
watching her, their goggles giving them a clear view from under the
surface. Suzanne being in the pool was nothing new for them -- I had no
doubt that it was her transparent Speedo that had caught their attention.

   As she finished her last lap, she stood up in the shallow end and, as I
had feared, was on full display for all to see.  It looked like she was
wearing pasties.  The suit itself had all but disappeared -- only the white
piping at the edges were evident.  The two isolated red maple leaves on
each of her magnificent breasts were doing a poor job of hiding anything --
the physical details of her nipples and areoles were clearly outlined
through the taught material.  As she leaned her head back to squeeze water
from her ponytail, her breasts were thrust forward, emphasizing their
incredible dimensions.

   The Speedo was too small, purchase when Suzanne was a slim and svelte
teenager, not the curvy and shapely woman that she was now.  As she hoisted
herself out of the water as she was wont to do, the swimsuit appeared to be
straining to contain those curves and the boys were spellbound.  The red
appliques on her cheeks were cute but did nothing to hide them.  The valley
between them was clearly visible, her muscular glutes a sight to behold. 
As she towelled herself off before putting her sweatshirt back on, she was
discretely twerking them in alternating contractions, apparently "unaware"
of the effect this was having on the young men raptly watching her every
move.

   The larger maple leaf applique in the front did no better a job at
hiding her camel toe than did the others.  It too was stretched taught. 
The Nair from yesterday's shower had done it's job and no pubic hair was
the least bit evident - her clearly outlined labia hard to ignore.  The
sweatshirt didn't help much.  It was cropped and covered her torso but
ended at the waist, her nether regions still on full display.

   As the practice progressed and the swimmers continued their laps,
Suzanne would stop individuals and offer one-on-one instructions.  She
would get their attention and then stop them at the end of the pool. 
Crouching down, her crotch would be no more than a couple of feet from the
swimmer's rapt attention, they were getting a close up, personalized view
of her camel toe.  It was difficult to tell if they were hearing a word she
said.

   When the practice ended and the team was filing into the change room, I
told Suzanne that I had to speak with them before they left.  If they were
telling their friends about her unique coaching and her less than modest
attire while doing so, there was a good chance that a staff member or admin
would hear about it and that would jeopardize our jobs as coaches.

   I opened the box and distributed their valuables, but left the lid open
as I closed the door.  I wanted Suzanne to be able to hear what I was
saying to them as they were changing.  I knew that Suzanne was back at her
post, using the opportunity to peep through the slot again.  I reminded the
team that having her here was a unique opportunity to benefit from her
skill in the water.  And her knowledge.  Yes, her Speedos were showing more
than they should.  But her heart was in the right place and she it mortify
her if she knew just how much we could see.  There was a bit of muttering
going on, but in the end, we all agreed that we could not share this with
anyone outside of this room, that it needed to be kept between us.  We
agreed that I should say nothing to Suzanne about her exposure, "hoping"
that she would notice on her own to avoid embarrassment.  I was sure
Suzanne appreciated the way I handled it.

   When I returned to the office, Suzanne had finished her peeping and was
in the process of peeling off her Speedo.  She really was shameless.  She
had no sooner removed it and was nude again when the phone rang.  This was
unusual and she grabbed the receiver before I had a chance to.  It turned
out it was Suzanne's mother and she wanted to talk to me.  I had never met
Mrs.  Z__, but she wanted to meet me!

   Suzanne normally took the bus home -- would I be kind enough to drive
her home?  I had NO idea where this was coming from and the naked Suzanne
could offer no insight.  I suggested that I would meet her a couple of
blocks from the school -- I was concerned about appearance.  The optics
were seldom good when a female student was seen in a male teacher's
vehicle. She understood that.

   It was awkward to watch her get dressed, but watch her I did.  When she
was dressed and left the office, I followed five minutes later, giving her
a chance to walk to our agreed upon rendezvous before picking her up.  When
we were seated together and on our way, I again asked why her mom wanted to
meet me, but she denied knowing why.



   SWIM TEAM EXHIBITIONIST COACH CH.  03

   I meet my assistant's mother.

   When we arrived at Suzanne's home, I was suitably impressed.  It was set
back from the road in a well-to-do neighborhood with a circular driveway
leading to the front door.  It was flanked to either side by large picture
windows, the drapes wide open.  That seemed a bit unusual as it was
starting to get dark, dusk having settled in by now.

   Suzanne directed me to park on a large apron to the side of the three
car garage.  One of the doors was open and a convertible Jag was visible.
As we approached the front door and more of the interior became visible, I
could see the profile of a Beamer as well.  The Z__'s were obviously not
hurting.  The front door opened as we stepped up onto the front porch and
Suzanne's mother was there to greet us.

   I hadn't bothered to change from my gym shorts after practice and had
only changed my shirt.  I would have considered dressing up a bit if I had
known the sight that would be here to greet me -- it left me breathless!

   She was a beautiful woman, (in her early 40's as I found out), but could
have passed for Suzanne's older sister.  What seemed incredibly bold (and
hot!) to me, was that she was wearing a beige, full length silk gown that
both hugged and revealed her features in the most alluring of ways.  It was
split up both sides by lace bordered panels -- all the way up the outside
of hips past the pelvis.  It was apparent that she was completely nude
underneath as the sitting room light illuminating her from behind left
little to the imagination.  The garter belt, flesh toned stockings and high
heel were the perfect compliment to her elegant attire.

   Her muscular thighs and calves and obviously firm breasts made it clear
where Suzanne inherited her own womanly figure from.  Mrs.  Z___ didn't
have the tone that her daughter had from her years of training, but there
was little to criticize in her physique.  A milf right out of the pages of
Penthouse!

   I put my hand out as Suzanne introduced us.  As she grasped my hand in a
firm grip, Mrs.  Z___ leaned in and her perky nipples were evident through
the lacy bodice.  I could feel them pressing into my chest as she tilted
her head up and kissed my cheeks three times, alternating between left and
right.  The third was a prolonged one (at least three seconds) and I was a
bit dumbfounded.  I had never been greeted in such a manner and I found it
incredibly erotic.  Was that her intent?  Even Suzanne seemed a bit
befuddled, judging by the expression on her face.

   As this charming creature gracefully turned and led us toward the
sitting room, I was mesmerized by her elegance and the flirty way that she
was twerking her muscular cheeks as we followed her.  Twerking was not easy
to do while walking, particularly while in heels.  It had to be deliberate
on her part and it was incredibly sensuous.  The silk covering her glutes
flowed with the deliberate undulating contractions and I was developing an
erection - it was impossible to ignore Mrs.  Z___'s perfect derriere.

   Suzanne excused herself and headed up the elegant stairway to the second
floor leaving us alone while her mother and I entered the sitting room.  I
guessed this was it -- her opportunity to discuss with me whatever it was
that was on her mind with Suzanne out of the picture for the moment.  She
led me over to a well-stocked bar in the corner and offered me a drink.  I
was nervous and not sure where this was going.  She could sense that and
told me to relax as she placed her hand on my forearm.  The effect was
electric and my erection surged with new vigor, threatening to escape the
cuff of my gym shorts.

   As she poured us our drinks, I was admiring the way her gown accentuated
her curves.  There was just enough nudity and coverage to make for an
incredibly sexy image.  My height gave me a clear view down her exposed
cleavage and she made no effort to prevent me from doing so.  As she handed
me my drink, she gestured to a comfortable chair for me to sit in, opposite
the sofa that she was headed to.  She then proceeded to drape herself on
the sofa, twisting to the side and lifting her legs as she made herself
comfortable.  It didn't appear contrived as she bent her knee
provocatively, a generous view of her thigh exposed in profile as the gown
fell away to the side.  However, the most titillating aspect of all was
that she was mirroring the pose of a life-sized portrait directly above her
that I had just noticed.  A nude portrait of herself on this very sofa!

   I was somewhat tongue-tied with this, but she was gracious in her
demeanor and was doing her best to make me feel comfortable as we bantered
a bit with some small talk.  However, she was obviously enjoying my self
consciousness as my eyes kept drifting up to the erect nipples on the
painting, which appeared to project out from the canvas, directly at me. 
The artist was obviously a talented one as the likeness was uncanny.  The
portrait projected a free-spirited image, one that exuded a sexiness and
self confidence that could not and would not be ignored.

   As we talked, she made subtle adjustments to her pose, revealing just a
bit more with each shift in her position.  She appeared well practiced at
how to play this for all that it was worth, the revealing lacy bodice
gradually exposing more and more of her cleavage as we continued our
light-hearted conversation.  Her obviously erect nipples were evident and
it wasn't the least bit cold in here.  I only hoped that I would not have
to stand up any time soon.

   That hope was quickly dashed as Suzanne entered through the open door. I
stood up as I had been taught to do when a woman entered the room and
Suzanne let out an audible gasp.  I had learned a long time ago that using
my hands to try and hide an erection was a futile gesture -- one that only
drew attention to an already awkward state of affairs.  I was rock hard and
realized as I stood there that my embarrassing state was on full display
for the two of them, but I was determined to play it cool, to try and
pretend that there wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

   Suzanne had returned to join us dressed exactly as her mother was.  A
long beige silk gown split high at the sides with a garter belt, stockings
and high heels.  Mrs.  Z___ also stood up as she entered the room and the
two of them were side by side, apparently admiring each other.  No doubt,
this was for my benefit.  Mother and daughter made an incredibly sexy
pairing, near-identical images of each other.  Mrs.  Z___ gently touched
Suzanne's arm and whispered something in her ear.  Suzanne appeared to be a
bit reluctant, but nodded her head slightly and then excused herself.  Mrs.
Z___ and I were alone again.

   With a sweep of her arm, she indicated that I should sit back down as I
had remained rooted to the spot, my thoughts in a jumble.  It was probably
a good idea to take a seat as my shorts were tented with my developing
Hardon.  As I sat down, I adjusted my shorts to allow my glans to peek out
of the cuff, pulling my white briefs to the side.  As she prepared us
another round, she was in profile and the light behind her effectively
illuminated her curves and again, emphasized that she was, indeed, naked
underneath.

   As I stammered out a lame compliment about the two cars I saw in the
garage, Mrs.  Z___ ("call her Jenny") stated that Mr.  Z___ was out of the
country on business and would not be returning until the next week.  She
must have noticed my relaxing at that as a sly smile formed on her lips,
her rosy red lipstick oozed both glamour and sophistication.  She was a
goddess.

   As she handed me my new drink and again crossed over to the sofa to sit
across from me, a sense of calm settled onto me.  I had been nervous about
why Suzanne's mother had wanted to meet me, but whatever the reason was, it
was apparent that there was nothing to be too concerned about.  My vivid
imagination had construed a myriad of possibilities, none of which were
even close to what had materialized.  Had I worried needlessly?

   It was like the flood gates opened up on true confessions.  An adult
version of Truth or Dare.  She seemed to have some things she wanted to get
off her chest as she opened up to me about Suzanne and some of her own
suppressed and forbidden desires.  There was a sense of openness that had
developed between us in that moment and an electric pulse seemed to float
in the air.  We both had salacious secrets that we had never shared with
others and we were anxious to do so now.

   Jenny started by thanking me for not only hiring Suzanne for the job
that she knew she was going to love, but for making her feel appreciated.
She told me that Suzanne had shared our experiences from the day before -
her first day of coaching with me.  She related that her daughter had
developed an exhibitionist streak recently and that she needed to have
someone to look after her - to keep her out of trouble.  She went on that
she herself had the "bug" as she put it, but that as a stay-at-home
housewife, she had developed her own outlets for showing off.

   She went on that there was little that could match the exhilaration of
being spied on ("peeped") and she was constantly looking for ways to show
off, particularly if her captive audience was unaware that she knew that
they were watching her.  She confessed that just talking about it now was
having a profound effect on her -- she seldom had the opportunity to
discuss her exhibitionism with anyone, let alone a handsome young kindred
spirit.

   She went on that she seldom, if ever, pulled the drapes unless Mr.  Z___
was at home.  His frequent business trips abroad left her with plenty of
time on her hands to amuse herself.  She knew of at least two neighbors who
were peeping on her on a regular basis ...

   Suzanne had shared with her my peeping from the previous day after
practice and the fact that I had joined her in the shower and that I had
cream pied her while masturbating.  It had got Jenny's juices flowing to
hear the re-telling and she had decided then and there that she wanted to,
no had to meet me.  Suzanne wasn't sure that it was a great idea, but her
mother had insisted and so here we were.

   Jenny asked how old I was while volunteering that she was 42.  There was
a sixteen year difference in our ages and consequently an eight year
difference between Suzanne and I.  Mr.  Z___ was 57 and had lost interest
in trying to keep Jenny satisfied, but did appreciate having a trophy wife
on his arm for his business interests.  Jenny was a master at discreet nip
slips or up skirt views for his business associates and clients at social
gatherings and he knew that his wife's willingness to do so was a real
asset.  He just wasn't aware of just how much she loved doing it - showing
off.  When he was not at home, Jenny had the freedom to do as she pleased
with a generous allowance and credit cards to cover her expenses.

   She seldom slept with her husband anymore (they had separate bedrooms)
and she missed intimate physical contact.  The thrill of her exhibitionism
was exhilarating, but left her somewhat wanting.  When she got her juices
flowing, a finger often just didn't cut it.  She had a collection of dildos
and other "marital aids" that she thoroughly enjoyed using, but she missed
the skillful use of a tongue on her clit or rimming her and having her
nipples sucked on or nibbled.  They were sensitive and breast play often
resulted in orgasm.  Penetration?  Absolutely!  She missed being fucked.

   Jenny knew exactly what effect such talk would have on my state of
arousal.  And it did.  My erection was rock hard.  As the glans hadvpoked
itself past my briefs and out of the cuff of my shorts I made no attempt to
hide it.  I leaned back in the chair and pulled the cuff of my shorts up,
adjusting my position to allow me to free the shaft.  I closed my eyes and
began to slowly stroke myself, using my free hand to alternately tweak my
nipple through my shirt.  As I listening to Jenny's verbal chronicle while
she watched me stroking myself, I allowed my imagination to paint a vivid
picture.

   Jenny stood, the spaghetti straps holding her gown in place dropping off
of her shoulders.  The only thing preventing it from dropping to the floor
at her feet were her breasts, holding her gown up in defiance of gravity.
As she stepped towards me, the gown did in fact drop and puddle around her
heels.  She approached and stood in from of me, her shaved pussy dripping
with her anticipation, framed by her stockings and lacy garter belt.  I
lifted my butt and slid my shorts and briefs down, letting them drop around
my ankles to be kicked aside.  I couldn't get my shirt off fast enough!

   My erection was in all it's glory, the glistening glans bobbing with my
racing pulse.  I look up into her eyes as she leaned in, parting her knees
to straddle my thighs.  I let go of my cock as I reached up with both hands
to cradle her magnificent breasts.  As I took first one and then the other
of her hard but pliable nipples between my lips, she tilted her head back
and let out a soft but prolonged sigh which then developed into a moan as I
rolled each nipple between my incisors to increase the sensation.

   Moments later, she was vigorously massaging the underside of my shaft
with her cunt.  As she drew herself closer in her straddle, my shaft was
riding up and down between her labia, my glans still free.  By twerked her
butt cheeks, she was able to increase or decrease the tempo and control
just how much stimulation her clit was receiving.  I knew I would explode
at any moment.

   As I glanced over Jenny's shoulder, who was thrashing about in the
throws of her approaching climax, I saw Suzanne standing in the doorway,
watching raptly, her mouth slightly open.  It was enough to put me over the
top and I exploded in an intense orgasm, my spunk cumming in streams,
soaking our torsos in a white, sticky mess.  Jenny's own orgasm followed
quickly, her juices soaking the seat of the chair.  She collapsed into my
arms and hung there as we both recovered, our breathing in harmony.

   As she slowly disengaged herself and stood up, my cum was a sticky mess
on both of us.  I used my discarded shirt to wipe up the of it, my
semi-erect cock still dripping.  As Jenny excused herself and left the room
to clean up, Suzanne, looking elegant in her magnificent gown, stepped over
and dropped to her knees in front of me.  She tentatively took my still
sensitive cock and (unbelievably) began licking and gently sucking, anxious
to get every last vestige of her mother's and my combined spunk off of my
glistening tool.  Wow!

   When she took my balls between her lips and gently massaged them with
her tongue, her mother returned to the room.  As she picked up her gown
from where it was lying on the floor, I reached down and gently disengaged
my testicles from Suzanne's mouth.  My cock was again at half mast, and
brushed her cheek as I guided Suzanne back up onto her feet.  As she stood
up, I tugged at the straps on her gown, resulting in it dropping to the
floor.

   Mother and daughter were now a pair of goddesses before me.  Both sans
gowns, but still in their garter belts, stockings and heels.  My erection
continued to harden, but I was in no shape to use it -- I needed some time
to recover.  But I was willing (more than willing!) to continue with the
two of them, I just needed a respite.  Jenny told us both that she had
turned on the hot tub, suggesting that might be our next little adventure
where we could continue to exchange our war stories and fantasies.

   I thought it sounded like a great idea and so did Suzanne.  I was
completely naked of course, my full-mast erection proudly on display.  I
watched them both as they removed their remaining garments and soon all
three of us were naked.  Jenny produced three robes (I assumed the one she
gave me was Mr.  Z___'s) which we donned.  Jenny and I grabbed our drinks
from the sitting room and the three of us headed out onto the back deck.



   SWIM TEAM EXHIBITIONIST COACH CH.  04

   Mother and Daughter bare all in the hot tub.

   As the three of us exited through the kitchen out onto the back deck,
preparing for our dip in the hot tub, Jenny suggested that there was a good
chance that at least one of their neighbors would be spying on us -
probably both.  She told me that she made a habit of "putting on a show" on
a irregular basis (dependent on whether Mr.  Z___ was home or not) for
anyone who might be watching.  She had no doubt that both of her neighbors
peeped on her constantly and she operated based on the assumption that they
were watching at any time.  Mother and daughter had seldom bathed together
until tonight.

   Jenny was bubbling with excitement and was in a confessional mood.  She
outlined that she never started the night showing off in the nude - at
least to start with.  She knew that she had an incredible body for a woman
her age (any age for that matter) but was aware that voyeurs would quickly
tire of the routine of seeing her naked all of the time.  She had a number
of swimsuits and skintight bodysuits that she would wear from one night to
the next if her husband was away and she was using the hot tub.

   The pretense that she was unaware of her audience made it all the more
exciting for that audience.  She knew both of her peeping neighbors
personally and liked them.  They were both professional gentlemen that
would be mortified if they knew that she was aware of their peeping.  For
her, it was the nature of the tease that she enjoyed the most.  By wearing
swimwear that left something to the imagination (even if it was very
little), they were less likely to get bored with the same old - same old.
They would be constantly intrigued by what she might or might not be
wearing from night to night -- never disappointed and never completely
satisfied.  This was the first time that she and Suzanne would be in the
hot tub with a man other than Mr.  Z___.

   As I removed my robe and prepared to step into the hot tub, both mother
and daughter were taking their time -- helping each other as they slowly
removed their robes, making sure to emphasize their magnificent breasts and
bald pussies.  At first, I thought they were doing this sensual tease for
my benefit, but then it dawned on me -- they were doing this for their
audience.

   It was a large and obviously very expensive hot tub.  It had a variety
of seats (six in all) and a built-in lounge.  There were at least a dozen
underwater lights that changed colors or provide more or less illumination
as desired.  The myriad of adjustable jets at varying heights obviously
provided a whole slate of therapeutic options.

   As I gave them a hand to assist them into the tub, I again marveled at
the circumstances that led me to this night.  They both crossed over and
sat down in two seats that were facing out -- facing away from the house
and towards their two neighbors overlooking the back lawn.  Their seats
were shallow ones, resulting in their breasts floating just above the
surface, their erect nipples clearly visible above the bubbling water.  Two
pairs of perfect pear shaped breasts side-by-side.

   As I stepped into the very warm water, I contemplated situating myself
on my knees between the two of them for easy access to those magnificent
orbs.  But before I had a chance to do so, they both suggested that I take
the lounge opposite from where they were.  Caught in mid-step, I awkwardly
stumbled back and slid into the molded bench, reclining as I did so.

   I could see why they had recommended it.  Not only did the jets in the
bed of the lounge offer an alternating, pulsating massage up and down my
spine, but there was a slow flowing, undulating jet located between my
thighs, just above the knees.  As I settled in and made myself comfortable,
this jet was revolving slowly, alternating between tickling my thighs and
the underside of my shaft and glans with it's pulsating flow.  I was able
to control the pressure with a simple twist of the jet opening.

   Any kind of flexing of my naked glutes resulted in a varying of where
the jet would catch me.  My semi-erect cock began to stiffen up again, the
delicious feeling of warm water flowing over it's length unique.  I
realized then and there that I was living the dream -- luxuriating in a hot
tub with two gorgeous women with me, waiting for me to recover sufficiently
to give them the attention they both craved.

   From the get go, both Jenny and Suzanne were taking advantage of the
"therapy" that the jets in their chosen seats were providing for them. 
Jenny was obviously a seasoned pro here and her subtle adjustments in her
positioning was making the most of the steady flow of water over her
exposed labia.  As the sensations of the steady stimulation were having
their desired effect, she settled back into her seat with her eyes half
closed and a smile on her face, letting the jets work their magic.

   Suzanne was a little less subtle - she was writhing in her seat.  The
adjustable jet between her thighs was pulsing in an alternating stream of
varying pressure and flow and she was having a difficult time containing
herself.  As she squirmed around to get the full effect of the water play,
I could see that she was slowly being overwhelmed by the sensual pleasure
that was radiating from her stimulated clit.  She began to play roughly
with her erect nipples, twisting and tweaking them as she arched her back
and let out a series of short, barely audible gasps as a climax slowly
escalated and overpowered her restraint.

   As she came, she let out a long exhalation of breath and bucked several
times, her arched body exposing her breasts completely to anyone who might
be watching.  Quite the show.  As she settled back into her seat, her back
was now relaxed and she slowly recovered, her breathing returning back to
normal.  She had to shut down the offending jet as her sensitive clit
needed a break from the continuous stimulation.

   Jenny had earlier shared some of her desires and fantasies with me -- it
was now time for Suzanne to share her story - to outline her own more
recent introduction to both exhibitionism and voyeurism.  As she had
recovered from her climax, she told us that she had felt the first
stirrings of wanting to show off as her breasts began to fill out.  She had
turned 18 and she found it exciting as she began to fill out her Speedos
and her teammates began to tease her.  Feigning annoyance, she found that
she was actually craving their attention.

   She knew her mother had developed her figure early on and Suzanne was
impatient to develop the curves and breasts that were on constant display
at home.  It was not just her mother's flaunting of her assets in revealing
gowns and stockings and the sexy outfits she wore out in public, but with
the life-size, full nude portrait that she had had commissioned.  It had
been hung in the sitting room above the fireplace for all to see.  Her
mother was not shy and Suzanne began to realize that neither was she.

   The Z___'s were well off and her parents were generous and lavish with
their gifts on her 18th birthday.  Her figure had continued to fill out and
her breasts were growing, so her mother had taken her to have a bra
fitting. They were expensive and made of the finest materials and she loved
the sexy way they made her feel when she wore them.  She had had two made :
both identical, demi-cup platforms for her C-cup boobs with a lacy,
scalloped edge.  The transparent, beige material was a perfect match to her
skin tone.

   She soon discovered that, under her clothes, the bras all but
disappeared.  And her breasts continued to grow.  Within a few months, they
were D-cups and the scallop edging no longer hid her nipples as her
swelling tits strained the confines of her two fitted bras whose cups were
now a tad too small.  She was constantly having to make adjustments if she
wanted to keep her nipples hidden under her blouses.  She found that she
just stopped wanting to keep them hidden.  By tucking the scalloped edging
in under her boobs, her breasts were out there.  And so were her nipples.

   Truth was, she really didn't need to wear a bra.  Her years of training
hadn't stopped and her curves had the tone of the trained athlete that she
was.  She could more than pass the pencil test.  Her breasts were taught
and firm, the nipples curving up and pointed to the ceiling.  Her hip had
the sensual curves of her mother, but the musculature was well defined and
undulated as she moved about.

   She had also discovered her mother's Stay Erect cream.  By applying it
to her nipples before leaving the house for school or before practice, she
found the effect lasted for hours.  She kept a tube of it in her locker to
reapply as needed, but it wasn't usually necessary.  Her nipples were dark
and stood out like pencil erasers and were patently obvious under her tops.
Decency required that she wear pasties to keep from poking someone's eye
out.

   She was often catching her teachers looking down her blouse or V-neck
sweater (men and women alike) and she went out of her way to make sure that
they were rewarded for their peeping.  She had the down blouse refined to
an art and thrilled at knowing that adults she knew and respected were
mesmerized by her breasts.  She loved the peeping of her fellow students as
well, but it was the teachers whose attention she most craved.

   The Stay Erect cream had another benefit.  She loved the tingling
sensation on her nipples that it produced and the sensitivity of her erect
nipples had a secondary effect on her clitoris.  As they were stimulated by
friction with her tops or the occasional discreet tweak, the thrill
radiated to her clit.  She had had to learn how to disguise the micro
orgasms that she was able to produce more or less at will.

   Her first time being able to expose herself completely began with recent
experiences with her club coach, a gentlemen that I knew and whose story I
was familiar with.  Suzanne had known him since she had started swimming at
the age of twelve and had a great deal of respect for him.  She would have
considered him her mentor if she had known what that meant at the time.

   As Suzanne was sharing her tell-all with us, Jenny had become a bit
impatient.  She sidled over from her seat to a spot beside me, on her
knees. Those beautiful breasts were within inches of my hungry eyes, her
erect nipples just above the water level, no doubt intentionally.  She
boldly used her hands to gently caress my thighs as my glans bounced around
in the oscillating flow of the rotating jet.  She let my cock brush against
her forearms randomly until it was stiff enough to grasp in one hand, using
just her fingers to gently direct it in and out of the current from the
jet, her stroking not the least bit hurried.

   She grasped my nearest nipple and was tweaking and manipulating it
between her index finger and her thumb.  At first she played with it
gently, but then more roughly as my cock twitched and stiffened in reaction
to her forceful pinches and Suzanne's confessions.  She did this while
continuing the slow tease, the almost non-existent rhythm that was slowly,
ever so slowly, building up the tension that was growing as she skillfully
manipulated my cock into and out of the current of the oscillating jet.

   Suzanne seemed unfazed by what her mother was up to with me at the
moment and continued with her recollections.  But as she did so, she was
absently playing with her own nipples, squeezing and caressing them with
both of her index fingers and thumbs, pulling them forcefully out and away
from her firm and shapely breasts.  Whether it was her intention or not,
watching her do this was adding to my pleasure from her mother's subtle
manipulations.

   Suzanne went on that with her coach's close and sometimes personal
attention, she had risen through the Age Group rankings to a level of
excellence.  She had, however, hit a wall when she reached puberty and her
figure began to fill out.  When she turned 17 and was now an open swimmer,
her times stagnated and her ranking diminished with the increased
competition.  Frustrated, she had continued with the intense training but
quit competing in the more competitive, out-of-town meets.  Instead, she
had joined her coach on the deck and was working as his assistant.  She
often found herself in the water, demonstrating the skills that she had
perfected through years of training.

   As her 18th birthday came and went, she found that her mentor was
becoming too "familiar" with her.  She had begun to feel uncomfortable with
the sometimes personal and inappropriate compliments he directed her way.
Then, one day after practice, she had noticed him peeping at her through
the valuables box slot as she was changing.  She wasn't really shocked but
(after some initial anger and disappointment) had ended up finding his
peeping exhilarating.  She did not confront him about it.

   Instead, she found she was thrilled that she could expose herself like
this to her mentor and get away with it.  From the start, totally exposing
herself to him turned her on!  Knowing that he was watching her inspired
her to make the most of each opportunity.  She made sure that she situated
herself in the cubby directly across from his vantage point to allow him
his unobstructed peeping.  She went out of her way to put on a show on a
daily basis without giving away that she was on to him.  She began to
realize what a thrill she experienced by showing off and it had encouraged
her to push the envelope in class as well.

   Several weeks later, her mentor was caught peeping on the female Age
Group swimmers and had been summarily dismissed.  Suzanne was devastated
and ashamed, having come to believe that his peeping had been exclusively
for her.  She now suspected that he had been peeping on her and her
teammates for a lot longer than she was aware of.  She had come to realize
that she loved to coach, but that she would have to curb her wanton
impulses to expose herself.  That was until she had started to work with
me. My own debauchery was apparent to her from our brief time together last
season and she jumped into her new job coaching with me with both feet.

   At this point, I was beginning to lose my concentration.  Jenny was now
chewing on my nipple and I was squirming, having a difficult time paying
attention to what Suzanne was sharing with us.  Jenny had found a way to
float her hand just above my erection, directing the jet's current in just
the right way to keep the stimulation consistent without direct physical
contact.  It was like a hand job without the hand.

   There was a huskiness in Suzanne's voice as she went on, a dreamy look
on her beautiful face.  She was tugging on her nipples vigorously as she
continued to relate that today had been the first day that she had peeped
on the men in their change room.  Jenny perked up on hearing this and began
to pay closer attention - this was the first that she had heard of her
daughter describe her voyeurism.  She needed to listen to this and her
attention was diverted from playing with my cock.  I told her I needed a
break anyways, so she moved back to her seat, spreading her legs again for
the jet's stream to pick up where she had left off.  Her eyes took on the
hooded look of a woman in the throes of ecstasy.

   Suzanne continued that she had recently become fascinated by penises. 
Many women didn't think that penises were, or could be, attractive.  But
Suzanne thought otherwise - or at least erect ones.  She had been
disappointed with her first peeping into the men's change room -- training
in cool water DID have a diminishing effect on their intimate anatomy.  But
two of her classmates did possess massive (or at least long) schlongs --
even when flaccid.  That made up for her otherwise disappointing peeping.

   She was much more pleased with her in-water coaching.  As much as the
boys enjoyed her exposure in her transparent Speedo, their own Speedos
didn't hide much either.  She had goggles of her own and could see the
effect her indecency had on her observers as they stood in the water,
watching her demonstrations.  It was her fervent hope that she was the
subject of their masturbatory fantasies and dreams at night.  Being the
center of attention to these young men was incredibly exciting!

   Suzanne told us that she was still a virgin.  This was good news to her
mother who had every confidence that it was true but it was somewhat
surprising to me.  She was a highly sexualized woman, but she was still a
teenager who loved clandestine attention more than anything else.  She
assured us that she was careful and never put herself into situations where
she didn't feel safe.  RisquÃ(C), but always safe.  She loved the feeling
of being overtly "out there" without having to worry about the jealous
reactions of a boyfriend or the actions of an aggressive voyeur.

   Suzanne had always been well liked by her teammates and her peers at
school -- even the mean girls liked her.  Her developing curves had given
her self confidence a boost and her normally placid and self-effacing
nature had been now been replaced by a confidence that screamed at the
outside world to be noticed.  She was a favorite at pool parties because of
the always revealing Speedos or bikinis that she chose to wear.  She found
that her female friends enjoyed the shows as much as the males because her
physique was incredible.

   Suzanne neither drank or smoked dope at the frequent weekend parties
that she was always invited to.  Her exhibitionism was not induced by a
clouded mind or a drunken state.  She was clear-headed and proud when she
showcased her magnificent assets and allowed others to admire her -- she
craved their attention and got high from the exhilaration of being on
display.

   She was always the first one to join in or to suggest a game of strip
poker.  Unlike some of the others who were drunk or stoned and might refuse
to expose themselves as they lost a final hand, Suzanne never backed out of
her obligations and was often the first one naked.  The men would often
play poorly to quickly shed their clothes because Suzanne was always
appreciative of their boners and would allow anyone who wanted to cop a
feel or tweak an exposed nipple.  However, she did not allow their
enthusiasm to cross the invisible line that she had established and she
never made out with anyone at these parties.  Her sobriety allowed her to
maintain control and so none of her girlfriends were put out by an
inadvertent kiss or grope by a boyfriend of theirs that went too far.  It
just didn't happen.

   Suzanne and some of her teammates began to take her example to the
extreme.  They would often wander around someone's home buck naked, having
decided not to get dressed again after a game or a swim was completed.  For
Suzanne it came naturally from her desire to be ogled and admired -- the
others usually need the artificial courage of drink or pot.  She was seen
as a leader and her openness and exhibitionist nature was an inspiration to
those around her.

   It was for this reason that Suzanne was not burdened with a "reputation"
or overt jealousy on the parts of others.  The excitement she got from her
two perverse vices far outweighed the actual pleasure she got from sex with
her two previous boyfriends.  She had found them immature and, for the most
part, jealous of the attention she received from others.  She still
considered herself a virgin as she had not allowed either of her boyfriends
vaginal sex.  They had both been pouty about it, but she did let them suck
on her nipples (which she loved!) for long stretches of time and would then
"reward" them with titty fucks when they were on their own.

   Her fascination with penises was satisfied by giving them oral
gratification in a 69.  They had both been well endowed and she loved the
challenge of accommodating their girth orally, but she was strict about
them being the bottom as she did not want her throat to be impaled by an
excited reaction on their part.  She would not swallow, loving it when they
came all over her tits.  But, for the most part, she bored easily when she
was not on display for others and neither relationship lasted for more than
a month.

   The breakups were heart rending.  Suzanne was a warm-hearted woman and
she genuinely felt for them (she wanted everyone in her life to be happy),
but she came to realize that exclusive relationships were not what she was
looking for -- at least at this stage of her life.  She had managed to
remain friends with her heart broken ex's, letting them cop a feel from
time to time, but she would be turning 19 soon and graduating high school.
She was looking forward to the rest of the swim season and the summer to
follow and she didn't want to miss out.  She was always looking for
opportunities to be able to expose herself and having immature and jealous
partners her own age only got in the way.

   Mother and daughter were close and when Suzanne had shared her
frustrations with Jenny, she had understood how her daughter was feeling.
Jenny had experience similar feelings in her own life as she had matured
and struggled with her own exhibitionist impulses in her late teens.  She
too had had jealous boyfriends who just couldn't get their heads around a
girlfriend who was constantly showing off to others.  It wasn't until she
had met Mr.  Z___ when she was 22 and who enjoyed the fruits of the
attention that his future wife received that she had finally been able to
give her exhibitionist impulses full reign within a relationship.

   The two of them (mother and daughter) had recently decided that Suzanne
needed a mentor, a supervisor of her wanton impulses in order to keep her
out of trouble.  Someone with exhibitionist and voyeuristic tendencies
themselves and who would understand her insatiable need to expose herself.
Suzanne had told her mother about catching me peeping on her after our
first practice (was that just yesterday?) and Jenny had determined that she
wanted to meet me -- to see if I could fulfill that role for her daughter.
Could she and I be the role models Suzanne needed in her life?  To work as
a team in guiding her through this exhibitionist journey of hers?

   Jenny and I were enjoying our jet stream massages and she had a quiet
orgasm as her daughter was finishing with her confessions.  Mine soon
followed (a mind blowing experience) and it was time for us to get out and
cool down.  I stood up and offered them both a hand as they stood and
stepped onto the deck -- glorious in their nudity.  As the three of us
lounged and enjoyed the warmth of the night, the two goddesses used this
last opportunity to display themselves for their invisible audience for the
last time this evening.  We helped each other into our robes, dried our
feet and prepared to re-enter the house through the kitchen doors.

   Jenny had pointed out earlier the massage table set up in the gazebo
next to the hot tub.  She told me that there was another one set up in the
house, overlooking the back deck.  She went on that Mr.  Z___ regularly
scheduled therapy with an attractive Japanese masseuse when he was at home.
He had purchased two massage tables that were always set up and he made a
point of scheduling his appointments when both Jenny and Suzanne were going
to be out of the house.  She suspected that his treatments involved more
than just shiatsu, but she never asked, more than happy to allow him an
outlet for his needs.

   When it was my turn to share with the two of them, I asked Jenny if she
had ever hired a masseur of her own to come to the house while her husband
was away.  To use the massage tables that he had so conveniently provided.
She answered no, that she had been concerned that Mr.  Z___ would see any
charges that showed up on her credit card account.  But now that I had
mentioned it...

   I expressed some surprise at that -- that a beautiful woman like her
with so much time on her hands...

   I let her know that I had some experience in massage and that I was
quite good at it.  That as part of my undergrad studies, I had taken two
full semester courses in it's study.  It had been a hands-on program where
my classmates and I would exchange massage with each other.  There was a
practical aspect to it as most of us were athletes and could help out with
each others' aches and strains.  There was nothing to compare to massaging
a muscular, highly trained swimmer or runner but manipulating their tight
muscles was hard work.  I wasn't certified, but knew what I was doing.

   I saw that I had piqued the interest of both of them.  I pointed out
that I would be happy to massage them in full view of their audience and
that I wouldn't have any qualms about doing so in the nude if that was what
they wanted.  All I asked in return was for them to fulfill a fantasy of my
own.