Off The Deep End
Chapter 7

Copyright © 2015-2023 Kim Little

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 7 - I was one of the top swimmers in our squad, until a new student named Nao beat me. Ordinarily I wouldn't have minded if someone else on the same team was better than me, but Nao was a girl.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   School   White Male   White Female   Oriental Female   First   Slow  

I later pieced together what happened from gossip, hearsay and the retellings of people who claimed to have witnessed ‘The Event’. Of course, even if half the people who swore they had been there were, then the grandstands around the pool would have collapsed from the sheer weight of the audience. Even if most of it turned out to be bullshit, it was still a big deal, particularly in the social microcosm of the school and the swim team.

After training finished, if there was time after the lane markers were put away, we usually had a ‘free swim’ until the water polo team arrived. Ostensibly this was to be used for ‘cooling down’, but really it was a free-for-all in the pool; younger students dunking each other and playing grab-ass, whilst older students swam lazily and chatted, and yet others entertained a more mature (and explicit) view on what constituted grab-ass.

On this day, apparently, after the ropes had been put away and people were milling around in the water, Josh had been retelling his tales from earlier in the day to the junior male squad members, but with more explicit detail. Nao had been seen to swim up to him from behind and tap him on the shoulder. He turned to see who it was.

“Joshie,” Nao purred. “Can I have a moment?”

“Sure thing, sweetie,” he simpered. As he followed her away, he looked back over his shoulder and gave what he thought was a subtle look to his ‘boys’, arching his eyebrows suggestively and biting his lower lip.

Nao and Josh were not really within earshot of anybody else in the expanse of the pool – it was eight lanes wide after all – although they were certainly not without an audience, particularly one of hushed awe from the quarter Josh had just vacated. The pair bobbed in the shoulder-height water, close to each other, his hands clasping her hips. She looked at him through half closed eyes and put her hands on his shoulders. He looked around, noticing that the only member of the coaching staff remaining was sitting at the lifeguard stand, busy copying out lap times into the training log. Josh gestured with his eyes. She raised her eyebrows and he nodded.

Nao traced her hands down his chest, outlining the firm pectoral muscles as she did so. Her fingertips brushed against hard abdominals above the line of his speedo. Her eyes flicked up again to meet his, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly as she ran her fingertips along the waistband. He nodded, almost imperceptibly. She moved in closer as her hands dipped below the elastic and drawstring. Josh’s breath caught in his throat, and, with a barely perceptible shiver, his shoulders stiffened slightly as skin made contact with skin.

A satisfied smirk began to cross his face but was rapidly replaced by a pained look that became more desperate in the following minutes. Those looking on would later relate that the muscles and tendons in Nao’s upper arms, just visible above waterline, gradually became more pronounced, just as they did in the weight room on an arm day during chest curls. Nao said something that wasn’t audible to the onlookers, but the expression on her face whilst she spoke was described in a variety of terms: intense, merciless, incensed, furious, ferocious, apocalyptic, murderous.

With a choking sound Josh tried to move away, but Nao pulled him back firmly by the vice-like grip she had on him, laying her forehead against his so he was looking directly, unavoidably into her eyes. He was, apparently, progressing from suddenly pale through to a decidedly green cast as she spoke softly but emphatically whilst staring into his eyes. She questioned and he nodded weakly. She questioned again and he nodded again, rapidly this time. She questioned a third time with an underscoring jerk of her right arm. He nodded, wide-eyed and urgently as his face moved from green to bright tomato red. She pushed back from him, and he began sucking in stilted gasps of air as he hunched in the water, bent almost double.

The water polo team arrived, and the coach blew the whistle to clear the water, bellowing as Josh took his time limply dog-paddling his way to the ladder and gingerly climbing out. He scuttled off, bowlegged and bent over like an old man, and locked himself in a toilet cubicle in the locker room.

Josh didn’t swim for eight weeks. Officially the reason the coaches were given was ‘severe muscle strain’, but the word that filtered back to the gossip chain through Josh’s older sister Claire, was that he was lucky not to have suffered a full testicular rupture. The tear to his groin adductor only took four weeks to heal, but his pride took a lot longer. Apparently when he had gotten home and collapsed on the couch, curled up and clutching his lower abdomen, his mother had decided that he was suffering appendicitis or a hernia or something and rushed him to the emergency room. His father had gotten the full story out of Josh after the doctors had made the diagnosis of severely bruised testicles and a torn groin muscle. His father had been concerned that Josh had been involved in a fight and had threatened him with all kinds of sanctions unless he came clean about who was involved.

Josh had admitted reluctantly (although the painkillers might have loosened his tongue) who was responsible, but it was sister Claire who had provided the explanation as to what Nao’s motivation was. She also filled in the blanks for their parents as to why Josh never had more than one or two dates in a row with the same girl, and as to what his reputation really was. She’d later rolled her eyes as she described how oblivious her parents had been to his antics. His dad had suggested Josh was lucky to get away with just some bruising and a torn muscle. His horrified mother had grounded him for six weeks, and by the time Josh had recovered and returned to school he was a complete social pariah.

Everybody had heard about the incident in the pool and even though nobody had actually heard what Nao had whispered to him whilst she was doing her best to turn him into a eunuch, the general consensus was that it probably had something to do with his lack of discretion and propensity for spreading foul rumour. Nao was such a nice girl that people decided that she was worthy of the benefit of the doubt and Josh had got what was coming to him. More than a few girls were heard to wistfully wish that they had been confident enough to do something like Nao had done.

 
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