My Days as a Swim Coach Pt. 01

Shortly after I graduated college, with a degree in Sports Coaching and Development, I got hired as a physical education coach at a prestigious local University. Although I initially got hired to run the girls' basketball program, shortly after I arrived the girls' swim coach, Mr. Garcia, got fired for inappropriate behavior.

The head of the athletics department asked me if I had any interest in taking the position of Head Coach of the girls' swim team. As a young, impressionable college graduate, I decided to go wherever the school needed me, particularly as the basketball program had an experienced assistant coach, ready and willing to step into the void. I was already a competent swimmer, and had passed the background checks required to work with young adults. Securing the necessary swim credentials was a simple case of taking a forty-hour course, and the school agreed to pay my salary while I got certified. I also met with a vocational counselor, whose job was to advise me of the pitfalls of the job, many of which I hadn't considered prior to accepting the position.

"I have to be brutally honest, Oscar," he began, "these girls are a handful. The environment in which we coach swimming presents some unique challenges for young male coaches. I just want you to know what to expect."

I gave him a quizzical look, as it appeared that the years of trying to protect young college guys from their base instincts, had made him quite jaded.

"What do you mean, unique challenges?" I asked innocently.

"Well," he began hesitantly, "between you and I, and completely off the record, the swimming pool is almost the perfect environment for sexual attraction to rear its ugly head. You are going to be surrounded by young, nubile, athletic girls, wearing only bathing suits. The job of coaching swimming, by nature, requires a certain amount of hands-on instruction, and you will be alone for most of the time with your young charges. To complicate matters, you will also be wearing only a speedo, which telegraphs your intentions, to put it delicately."

"Excuse me?" I stammered, unsure where this was going. "Telegraph my intentions? What on earth does that mean?"

"Well," my vocational advisor continued, "once again off the record, any remote indication of sexual interest will be immediately noticed by these young women. And, believe me, they will be looking."

"I am their teacher," I objected, raising my voice slightly at the mere suggestion of impropriety.

"I know that your intentions are probably good," he assured me. "However, even though your predecessor was fired for his actions, the four coaches prior to him quit under the extreme sexual provocation. In fact, it was their collective assessment that the girls conspired to get them erect, and even have some kind of points-based incentive system to do so."

"Points-based system," I repeated incredulously. "What on earth?"

"When you put a group of eighteen year old girls together, you should expect a certain amount of flirtation," he continued, "However, these girls took it to the next level. Most of them are sexually active, and to try and get a college-age guy hard is fun and games for them. However, for most of the guys it was just too much, and they ended up quitting, before they did something stupid."

"And the guy that got fired?" I asked tentatively, "what did he do?"

"He fucked up royally," my advisor informed me, "although under the circumstances I probably would have done the same," he admitted. "Erica and Jessica ended up breaking him after less than a month."

"Erica and Jessica?" I asked, in an attempt to learn who to be wary of.

"The twins," my advisor said, as if somebody should have already warned me about them. "Identical twins, just turned eighteen and the ringleaders of the swim team. Be careful around them. They have ruined more than one man's career."

"What will happen to the guy that got fired?" I asked, trying to gauge the ramifications of getting caught with my hand in the proverbial cookie jar.

"Fortunately, he pleaded guilty, which saved us the embarrassment of a trial, at least," he said quietly.

"Were the girls underage?" I asked. "I thought that the swim team were all at least eighteen."

"No, thank God," he said emphatically. "They were above the age of consent, but it is against the law for a teacher to have a sexual relationship with a student. He got sentenced to four years in prison, just last week, and will have to register as a sex offender for the rest of his life."

"The severity of the sentence seems incompatible with the crime," I remarked naively, "especially if both parties were consenting adults, over the age of eighteen."

"All parties," he corrected me solemnly, "not both. Mr. Garcia fucked Erica and Jessica."

A few minutes later, still in shock, I left the advisor's office vowing to have zero physical contact with any of the girls. His parting words to me, offered once again "off the record," gave me no solace.

"I would suggest that you jerk off right before every coaching session," he advised me, with a straight face.

After that bizarre meeting I contemplated going back to the head of the athletic department and seeking a reassignment. However, the more I thought about it, the more that it appeared that this request would have made me look bad. Weak-willed at best, seemingly unable to control my urges, and a pervert at worst. For this reason I decided to accept the challenge, and I put my energy into trying to find out why this job was so fraught with danger.

Two weeks later, having attained the required credential, I was officially the Head Coach of the swim team. The first meeting was one of introductions, and me laying out my expectations for the girls, so we assembled in the classroom, in regular clothes.

As the girls entered the room excitedly, looking like something out of a Tommy Hilfiger catalog photoshoot, I felt my cock twitch in my jeans, a bad omen for things to come. As an international athletic program, we attracted students from all over the world, and I detected several different languages being spoken. However, once the girls were seated, it was the two identical twins that addressed the room, speaking in perfect English but with a beautiful East European accent. I think I narrowed down their country of origin to Latvia or Estonia, but as I struggled to figure out exactly where they were from, one of them began to speak in fluent Czech.

I didn't know much about the Czech Republic, but I understood a few words of the native tongue as, embarrassing as it was to admit, most of my favorite porn-stars were from there. As I watched the more dominant young girl take control of the room, switching effortlessly between Czech, English and Spanish, I observed the way that the rest of the class deferred to her. Her identical twin interjected occasionally, using the same beautifully accented English, and as I took in their physical appearance, I felt my cock stiffen, and involuntarily form an erection, that must have been visible in my skinny jeans.

I let them control the dialogue for way too long, until finally I stood, and holding my clipboard strategically in front of my crotch, I cleared my throat, to indicate that I was ready to speak.

"I would like to introduce our next victim, sorry, swim coach, Oscar," the beautiful teenager announced, to a round of giggles from the room.

The fact that she had usurped my authority, and made the introduction herself was disturbing enough. However, as a teacher I was expecting the courtesy of being addressed as Mr. Lopez, or Coach Lopez, and for her to have called me by my first name, was presumptuous, to say the least. In truth, it had unnerved me, and I was a little flustered as I started to speak.

"Thank you," I said to the young girl, the tone of my voice such that I was enquiring her name.

"You are welcome, Oscar," she said sweetly, repeating the informal salutation that she had used previously. "Erica," she added quietly. "My name is Erica."

You could sense the tension in the room. Erica had laid down the first challenge to my authority, by addressing me by my first name, an all-too familiar greeting for our first meeting. The class waited with baited breath to see if I was going to correct her, but the moment passed, and the first round went to the teenage Czech girl. It also set the precedent for the rest of the introductions, as her identical twin rose to her feet, and with the same air of confidence, greeted me.

"Hi, Oscar, I am Jessica," she said demurely, her affected innocence striking a chord within me, and causing my nuts to twitch with desire.

I had never met identical twins before, and in all honesty, the only time I have ever seen such a pair, was in porn movies. Although the genre was relatively new, its popularity had exploded over the last few years, evolving rapidly from the relatively tame Playboy photoshoot of the Bentley Twins, Sandy and Mandy, to the more recent movies depicting two identical girls performing all kinds of perverted acts, often on much older men. Twins porn was one of my favorite genres, and as I admired Erica and Jessica from a distance, I couldn't stop thinking about the two of them blowing me.

They were incredibly beautiful young women, tall, with long limbs, that was common among swimmers. They looked virtually indistinguishable from each other, with their long blonde hair and their striking blue eyes. In fact, dressed as they were identically, in pink pleated mini-skirts and matching crop-tops, I struggled to tell them apart. Finally, after checking them out for several seconds, in search of some easily identifiable clue by which to distinguish them, I noticed that Erica's hair was in a ponytail, and Jessica was wearing hers in a more girlish style of pigtails.

The introductions were almost halfway around the room by now, as each young girl stood briefly, stated their name and, following in the footsteps of the twins repeated the greeting.

"Hi Oscar, nice to meet you."

I was lost in my own thoughts, trying to formulate a plan to keep my desires to myself, to not telegraph my intentions, as the advisor had succinctly put it. Had that lucky bastard Garcia actually fucked both of the twins? Had it been multiple times? Had he ever enjoyed them together?

The words, "Hello. Oscar. Hello," broke me from my train of thought, and as I snapped out of my trance, Erica was addressing me.

"Oscar," she said cheerfully, "where do you want us now?"

"Well, ladies," I said trying to gather my composure, the clipboard strategically placed over my genitals surely attracting some attention, by now.

"Introductions are enough for today. I have some paperwork to attend to, so let's meet first thing in the morning by the pool, say 9am."

"You need to take the roster, first," Erica informed me. "The swim program and the water-volleyball program take a head-count four times a day, to ensure no-one is missing," she added helpfully. "Did you write down everyone's names when we introduced ourselves?"

I wanted to tell her that I had been too busy fantasizing about her and her identical twin sucking me off, to have remembered to take the head-count, but instead I merely stammered that I did not.

"Let me help you," she offered sweetly, rising from her chair and walking slowly towards me.

As she approached my position, standing in front of my desk, it was her perfume that I inhaled first. It was an intoxicating scent, extremely feminine but also very expensive smelling. I took in a deep breath, and to my embarrassment, Erica noticed.

"Armani Prive Rose," she said matter of factly. "Do you like it on me, Oscar?"

While I thought that the smell was heavenly, I couldn't be drawn into this conversation with her, particularly in front of twenty or more witnesses, so I ignored her question, and subtly checked her out.

I couldn't help but notice that her shoelaces, her bobby-sox, her wristbands and the ribbons in her hair were all the identical shade, an ultra-feminine pale pink. She was on me before I had a chance to digest quite how alluringly she was dressed, and to my horror, she extended her beautifully manicured hand and grabbed my clipboard.

"I need a sheet of A4 paper," she said, as she removed my protective shield from my hand, with a huge smile on her youthful face.

I am sure my clumsy attempt to conceal my erection didn't go unnoticed by the girls assembled in that room. I felt my face redden in shame, and I heard a couple of them giggle as I turned my back hurriedly to them. I slinked awkwardly into my chair, a look of bewilderment on my face, as I took a seat behind my desk. As Erica took the roster, I sat there willing my erection to go away. However, as the precocious young blonde stood with her back to me as she took down the names of those in attendance, all I could think about was bending her over the desk, hiking up her pink pleated skirt, and getting balls-deep inside that little vixen.

When she was done with her little mind-fuck, my cock was rock-hard, and I could feel a wet spot in my jeans. Erica approached my desk, and stood about four feet in front of it with her arm outstretched.

"Roster complete, Oscar," she said with a devilish smile, her distance from the desk requiring me to stand and take the clipboard from her.

"Thank you, Erica," I stammered uncomfortably. "Can you please leave the clipboard by the door on your way out?"

With that the class was over, and the young women filed out chatting excitedly, as they processed how Erica had played me on my first day. After they left, I sat at my desk for about twenty minutes trying to compose myself. My erection was throbbing in my jeans, and I had leaked a copious amount of pre-cum into my underwear, as I struggled to contain my desire for the twins. When my erection finally subsided, I stood up from behind my desk, grabbed my backpack and the clipboard, and headed out for the safety of my car.

As a recent college grad, encumbered with school debt, my housing options were fairly limited. The school had some faculty housing on campus, but it was very crowded, and full of restrictions, encompassing everything from a curfew, to a ban on alcohol consumption. For this reason, I decided to rent a place just off-campus, but my limited budget forced me to rent a room in a large house full of college students. There were seven rooms in the house, and while it didn't deteriorate into a full-blown frat house, there were enough people around at all times, to ensure that it was a known place to party.

Young college kids of both sexes flowed freely through the place, and even though I never had a lock on my door, my privacy was respected. I got invited anytime there was anything going on, as the kids viewed me as one of the gang, especially because I was only three years older than most of them. For the most part, I kept myself to myself, choosing to jerk off in my room before and after work, in an attempt to maintain control of my raging libido.

I guess it was inevitable that the twins would find out where I lived. Unless I had rented an apartment ten or fifteen miles away from the campus, enough college kids circulated through the campus dorms and the off-campus student houses, that eventually you knew where everybody lived. When I got home one night after a particularly challenging day in the pool, I smelled Erica immediately. Well, not her, but her intoxicating perfume, Prive Rose or whatever the fuck it was called. She had apparently been in my room that day, as I was at school attending to my young charges. A cursory look around my accommodation confirmed that nothing was missing or out of place, so I didn't think much more of it.

However, as bedtime rolled around, and I was getting ready to climb into bed and jerk off before I fell asleep, it was Erica and Jessica that my thoughts turned to. As I counted down the days that I had survived the relentless sexual attentions of the twins, I wondered how the hell it had taken them a whole month to break down Mr. Garcia. I was jerking off four or five times a day, and was still occasionally hard in their presence. I grabbed my lube from my bedside table, in anticipation of my last beat-off session of the day.

As I pulled back the covers of my bed, I noticed a tiny pair of pink silky panties and a Manila envelope, lying on top of my sheets. The panties were definitely the source of the scent that was permeating my room, and I reflexively picked them up to sniff them. Apparently, Erica had spilled her Prive Rose all over her panties, when she attempted to scent them, such was the strength of the aroma. I closed my eyes as I inhaled the fragrance, visions of Erica immediately flooding my mind. The crotch of the panties was soaked with Erica's vaginal secretions, a sure sign that she had recently masturbated in them.

I picked up the Manila envelope next, wondering what it could possibly contain. Once I unsealed the envelope, I slowly withdrew the contents, revealing a glossy eleven by fourteen inch photo of the twins. Provocatively posed, the photo highlighted their natural beauty, and while I would have maybe appreciated something a little more hardcore, the picture of the two of them licking a popsicle, was titillating, if not highly inappropriate.

The photo bore both of their signatures, but not in a way that could incriminate them. Rather than sign the photo, they had both kissed it, leaving their distinctive, slightly different shades of pink lipglosses across the bottom of the photo. There was a small inscription on the bottom of the glossy picture, written in block letters, in an attempt to retain their anonymity.

In retrospect, I should have turned the photograph and the scented panties in to the Athletics Department Head, thus establishing motive on the part of the girls, but also signaling my intent to remain virtuous, regardless of the sexual provocation. However, as I read the words that the twins had written on it, "something to think about when you beat off, Coach," relinquishing ownership of the photo became an unlikely option. In fact, as it transpired, their words were a seemingly prophetic notion.

As if on autopilot, I laid the picture on my bedsheets, and started to remove my underwear, the tent in them signaling my true intentions, which were far from virtuous. I placed the scented panties off to one side of the picture, and as I started to imagine quite how Erica had transferred so much of her vaginal secretions to the crotch of the panties, I jerked off, ejaculating a few moments later.

I ended up blowing a copious load across the glossy eleven by fourteen photo, my semen splattering across the headshot of the twins as they shared a popsicle. I experienced a brief pang of guilt as I looked down at the picture, their angelic faces peeking through my milky-white fluid. Then I remembered that they were eighteen years of age, fully complicit in my prolonged sexual harassment, and well deserving of a facial, even if it was simulated. I kicked the photo on to the floor, stuffed the scented panties under my pillow, and dozed off shortly afterwards.

In the morning, as I went to put the glossy photo back in the Manila envelope, my base urges overcame me, and I ended up masturbating furiously at the picture of the twins, blowing my second load all over the pink silky panties. My impromptu jerk-off session made me run a few minutes late, and I ended up kicking the jizz-stained photo and panties under my bed, my intent being to deal with them later.

I ended up going home on my lunch break, the lure of that irresistible photo driving me to go and jerk-off on it once again. To my horror, when I looked under my bed, the photo and the panties were gone. I knew that we had a weekly maid service for our shared house, but she wasn't supposed to go into our individual rooms, and I thought she normally serviced our building on Monday mornings. Also, why would she be snooping around under our beds? That didn't make any sense.