Chapter 238: The Show Must Go On

That looks like fun, but I better not. People would notice if I started doing triple twisting flips.

Instead of going to try the diving board, I found a chair to watch Helen and the other women that were using that diving board. After she tried a one and a half flip three times, where she opened too soon, I started counting how many seconds it took for her to get to where she opened-up to dive in. She seemed to need about a count of three, but that was me counting. When I spelled out her name as she spun around, it looked like that was a perfect point to where she needed to open to get a straight dive in.

“Helen,” I said as I walked over next her in line. “Once you start your rotation, spell out Helen slowly and then untuck. You are about a quarter of a second too soon.”

A girl behind her asked, “Are you going to let some braindead jock tell you how to dive? Like he could do more than belly-flop.”

Ok. Four and a have reverse summersaults, without tucking, it is.

Since Helen had seen me showing the football coach that he was a moron, she told me that I could jump in line in front of her to show the girl behind us that she doesn’t have as much of a clue as she thought.

I knew the man-in-the-machine placed the physics knowledge in my head as well as the basic understanding of different types of diving boards. I remember adjusting the bounce of the board to roll the bar toward the back of the board. When I got on the three-meter board, I went to the end, checked the bounce, made an adjustment, and checked again. The girl behind Helen told me to hurry up or get off the board. After I did a few calculations in my head, to get the spacing right, I got to the back of the board to go. I crouched a bit and then started the three forward flips down the diving board to land my heels right where I needed them. The bounce put me higher up in the air than I expected, so it was going to be even better than I had thought. Making it look like it was something I could do in my sleep, I did four and a half reverse summersaults. By my guess, I had my body entirely vertical for half of a second before I entered the water. I didn’t consciously do it, but I felt my shield absorbing the force from me entering the water. I couldn’t see for sure, but doubt I made much of a splash.

My dive had Helen, the girl behind her, and others in line staring at the diving board as I climbed out of the pool.

I went over to Helen to ask, “That board threw me up higher than when I used to go to the pool as a kid. My pool at home doesn’t have a diving board, so I haven’t tried diving since I was nine. Did I overrate?”

“Huh? What David?” Helen asked, coming out of her stupor from watching my dive. “Um. I don’t think so, but it is hard to tell as fast as you were spinning. I know I had to look to see if you were in the pool because you barely disturbed the surface of the water. As big as you are, that is hard to do.”

The girl two behind Helen asked, “Do you expect us to believe that you haven’t done any diving since you were nine after that dive? I may be blonde, but you aren’t going to get that past me.”

“Honestly. Except for that dive, I haven’t been on a diving board since I was nine. This woman made a bitchy remark to Helen about her trusting some dumb jock to give her advice about staying tucked a part of a second longer. She implied I could only do a belly flop,” I told them. “I do martial arts. Summersaults are no big deal for me. The rest is just physics. I was worried that I would be hitting the water before I could fully straighten up, but I had more than enough time.”

To the girl behind Helen, I asked, “Did I pass? Should Helen listen to my suggestion or not? I mean, I may have the timing wrong since I would have to ask Helen some personal questions that aren’t things guy are supposed to ask girls.”

“I don’t care if she approves or not, David. I want to try because it is driving me crazy that I come out of the spin too early,” Helen said as she got on the board to make her adjustments.

She over-rotated a slight bit, so her body wasn’t completely vertical as she entered the water, but she did get the one and a half done this time. That earned me a big, wet hug and a kiss in the cheek from her.

I hugged her back as I said, “You started spelling out your name after you were already rotating. I saw your lips moving.”

When it was her turn again, she untucked at the perfect time but went in at a slight angle. She didn’t make a huge splash like the last time. I let them goad into going one more time because the girls in line kept saying I was full of shit about not having done any diving since I was nine. I had seen one of the girls had gone to the end of the board to do some backward spinning summersaults. I watched a guy do the same thing from the one-meter board. In my head, I was seeing how high it was likely to throw me up into the air. I didn’t know how fast I was going to be able to spin as I somersaulted, but what I saw in my head showed how the spin would affect the summersaults, so I decided to give it a try. I knew I had done two and a half summersaults, but it went so fast I don’t know if I had managed to do three or not. I was focused more on having my body straight as I hit the water. My shield did absorb the force again, but I still made a bigger splash than the last time.

I was back over with Helen when one of the swim coaches came over.

“Son, are you a student here? You are the best I have seen diving here in my nineteen years as the diving team coach. Have you tried to make the Olympic team? You could run the board on gold metals,” he asked excitedly.

With a smile, after looking at Helen to see if I should say something, I told the coach, “No, I’m not a student here. Helen’s roommate is chaperoning my college visit to talk with various professors to see if I could test out of some classes I would need to complete to get a degree from here. The school board back home is made of jerks. They are trying to tell me I must take two more years of high school after I passed all their tests. Oh. I couldn’t have tried out for the last Olympics, because I wasn’t fourteen, yet. Plus, this is the first time I have dived since I was nine.”

Oh yeah. There is that look of disbelief. Hey there, Mr. Baseball coach. What are you doing here?

Helen had walked with the diving coach toward where Naomi was sitting watching me dive. Before the swim coach could tell me that I was full of shit, and probably beg me to join their diving team, the baseball coach butted in.

“Don’t even bother thinking about what could be, Paul,” the baseball coach told him. “This kid must be the son of a god somewhere. He dropped Graves with a football to the gut from around seventy yards out. If I had a radar gun, I would say he is throwing over a hundred miles an hour easily. Unless he manages to find a way to show up the school board where he lives, he will be starting his junior year in high school in the fall. At least the president won his bet with Graves about how much this kid can lift. He hit the bar’s max of twenty-five hundred pounds. A played told me that it looked like he was bench pressing bags of feathers. As good as his natural sports talent is, David isn’t here for sports. This kid is smart. Do you know old-man Parker in foreign languages? He told the language arts department that they needed to give him a master’s in Foreign Language. He knows languages better than anyone, including Parker, in the department.”

Naomi interrupted their fun, saying that I had to leave early in the morning to go to the next university to do my face to face interview with their staff in the morning. It had already been a long day. Before they could even make an argument, she told them that it was her responsibility to be my chaperone, and she was serious about it. She felt like she had failed in insisting that I not be doing more than coming to work out today as we planned. I didn’t need that level of attention. We didn’t want the school board hearing about what I was doing.

Helen had to practice for another half an hour, but she would join us back at their apartment. Tawny was still missing in action, so it was Carol, Naomi, and I was heading back to their place, or so I thought.

“Tawny has been quietly telling women that you are fifteen, and Naomi is responsible for chaperoning you. There are still somethings on your schedule that require you to be somewhere at a specific time. We don’t have time to go back to the apartment for Naomi and you to both shower before having to leave,” Carol explained. “While the university did a lot to keep it quiet, there were a lot of accusations about some men in the swimming locker room forced to do sexual acts with other males. No one was able to point to specific males involved, or so that is what the school has told us. She told each woman that it would cause the school to get a major black eye if some degenerate raped a fifteen-year-old in the men’s locker room while he was on a campus tour. She got them to agreed that as long the three of us kept you from perving on the others, and they agreed they were cool with it, then you could come into the women’s changing room to shower.”

Naomi joked, “It probably didn’t hurt that she told them your dick looked about seven inches when it is limp and around nine when hard, not that they would see it hard.”

Yeah, right, your plan sounds fishy to me. There isn’t anyone here that could rape me in the women’s or men’s locker rooms unless I let them.

As we walked toward the changing area, Naomi told me that Tawny had run back to the apartment to raid my bag to get some clothes for me since I only had with me what I had on. She mentioned that she was very impressed that I have an ample supply of custom-sized rubbers in my bag. Most guys my age would say there weren’t any around to fit a dick the length of mine or some other shit to not have to wear one.

Tawny had done a masterful job of talking to the women that were in the changing room. There were rows of lockers, and she had secured some close to the showers, but far enough away from where anyone would notice me when I was getting undressed or dressed, or me them. They had four communal shower areas that had eight showerheads each. Every shower area had a small semi-transparent door centered in the doorframe with open spaces at the top and bottom. You could see from mid-thigh down and the shoulders up for an average height woman. I saw a few tall women were showering that had their breasts visible above the top of the door.

We all stripped like we didn’t seem to care that I was in a women’s changing room. I pulled my towel around my waist and followed Naomi to the shower area, the farthest one away from the others. Tawny was shyly trying to wash me all over as I washed Naomi’s hair. I washed Tawny’s hair and then soaped up the rest of her when we started to get a bit of an audience. Once I was sure that they were there to perv on me, I started striking some silly poses. Seeing their interest in my dick, I did a few that bordered on being sexual. Carol saw what was going to happen, not that I would have minded fucking the seven horny virgins in the group of women gawking, so she aimed a showerhead at the group as she turned the water to cold.

Tawny told them, “He isn’t getting raped in the women’s locker room either girls. Even if he was more than willing, he is only fifteen, and we don’t have time for him to learn about sex right now.”

I should be offended, or at least defend myself, but I’m staying quiet. Tawny’s words worked better than cold water.

Most of the women left. As I was washing Carol’s hair, I saw that we had four of the virgin women here to shower with us. They did peek at my dick from time to time. Helen popped in as Tawny, Carol and Naomi were washing all over again to get the smell of chlorine off their bodies. Without any sexual implications whatsoever, I offered to scrub the four newcomer’s backs and do their hair if they wanted. All four did. One got brave enough to say that if I washed her front, she would wash my dick.

“Thanks, but I don’t need any hot women playing with my dick. It is likely to give me hard and then light my short fuse,” I told her. “That doesn’t mean I won’t wash your front if you still want.”

She did but didn’t have a poof or washcloth. Before she even knew it, I had lathered up my hands with her body wash. Starting at her neck, I cleaned every inch of her from her neck down, including her pussy and butthole. I rinsed just as thoroughly as I had washed her. I then moved to the other three women showering with us to do the same for them.

“Wow! I thought Tawny was only trying to let us slip a guy in here for us to get it on with,” one of the virgin women said as I washed another one’s hair. “Sponge baths in the hospital are more arousing than the way you washed me, even between my legs. What a day! The first time I let any guy touch my body, I find one with a long dick, build like Adonis, and he touched me everywhere, twice. Would you rub in the prescription lotion I have to use to keep my skin from drying out because of the chlorine?”

Naomi nodded but said the woman had to go to where our clothes were. As a joke, she said that I had to stay naked because Tawny said I could be trusted, and people knew her word was gold.

Sounds good to me.

I began to rub the lotion on this woman when I saw that her orgasm energy was off the charts. I pulled out her orgasm energy while I worked the cream into her skin as women watched me closely. I got the sides of her shaved mound, but that was all. It needed to soak in for a few minutes, so I sat behind her on the bench to play with her hair. We were talking about nothing important as my hands worked in her hair. Somehow, I subconsciously picked up a vibe that let me know what to do with her hair to make her look amazing without being over the top enough to cause the wrong people to notice her.

While waiting on Naomi and her roommates to finish showering, and come to the lockers to get dressed, I walked around the different women offering to put lotion on the backs of women rubbing some on themselves, help the ones that were trying to braid their wet hair, and then showed some that they didn’t have a clue about bras. Four of the women I saw fighting on bras had ones a cup size too small or band sizes at least four inches too small. The place in my head showed that each had clean sports bras in their bags, so I got them out, took the wrong sized bra away, and then got the sports bra on them. Finding each of their phones, I pulled up a name-brand bra site where I selected the exact cup size, style, and band size. With their permission, I had them pull the sports bra up to show their breasts and took a picture. I connected to a web address that took that picture, and all the ones they had made themselves, to use to show them I knew what I was doing about bras. They saw a side-by-side image of their bare breasts inside the bra they had tried to fight on, and the one I had told them was the right size. They were too transfixed on rotating the three-hundred sixty degrees view of their bodies, which happened to have their naked bodies from their knees to their neck, to check out how their breasts looked in the two bras.

“David, right?” asked a woman coming over naked from the waist up. “Damn boy, you’ve grown a lot! You weren’t a hunk like you are now the last time I let you see my bare breasts. I wanted to thank you so much for telling my mom to piss off and let a boy fit me with a bra. I’ve never had any bras as comfortable as the five-dollar ones I bought at the outlet store where you were working. If I didn’t know that you were still a few months from being sixteen, I would thank you in a way I’m sure we would both enjoy. At least I now know how you look naked for real. No more guessing as I get myself off as I wait to find the right man to get my cherry.”

She did give me a big hug and whispered that if I wanted to have some fun that she lived in an apartment down the hall from Naomi.

I found all four women dressed and waiting for me when I got back to our lockers. With each of them having little brothers, they delighted in dressing me and then brushing out my hair.

When did my hair grow long enough to touch my shoulders again?

Once dressed, and we left the women’s locker room by a side entrance, I found that we had to be on time for dinner. The girls said we could walk there in about half an hour or get an Uber. They were surprised that I not only had my driver’s license, but I had a roomy rental car to boot. Naomi insisted that I didn’t get into an accident under her watch, so she drove us to dinner. It was at a much better restaurant than they had been planning on since the University president had told her to take me somewhere very expensive to have me remember them university fondly.

“Argh, I hate how they treat people here that don’t look a certain way. We can wait an hour to see if they will let us eat here or go somewhere else,” Naomi said, angrily.

I asked her to let me check something and texted Elena. It was a long shot, but given the attitude of the snot maître de, I figured it fit the way many of her father’s restaurants treated people. She shot me back a text to expect to be called by name and taken to the VIP table. We would have an expensive bottle of vintage wine with each family-style course, versus us ordering our own.