Shower Prude

"Why's that?" she asked with that almost coy tone she often used.

The other coach cleared his throat and said, "The league bylaws require athletes to shower before entering a pool and again at the end of the meet. They are trying to reduce outside contaminants in the pool, and the high chlorine levels instituted after the pink-eye epidemic two years ago means players should wash after to avoid chemical burns from prolonged exposure."

"Chemical burns? Really?" Mrs. Rush asked.

"Well, think about it," he said. "They sit in wet suits for a couple of hours during the meet. Then they wear the wet suits home for however long that takes. Do it every day, and they exceed the health standard for chlorine exposure."

"I see," Mrs. Rush conceded. She raised her voice and said, "You hear that boys? Shower before you leave the locker room from now on."

Everybody groaned, and I felt ill. Mrs. Rush and the other coach strolled back out to the pool through the shower again. They were engrossed in conversation, but I caught her glancing down more than once.

~~~~~ ~~~~~

I showered in my suit after every practice. The other guys showered nude and teased me about my modesty. "What you got that we haven't seen?" someone asked.

"My cock," I answered. "Have you seen MY cock?" When the joker stayed silent, I added, "Well then," and turned off my shower head. As I walked out of the shower to use a urinal, I looked over and foolishly said, "Besides, Mrs. Rush couldn't handle seeing what I've got."

The other guys all groaned and made animal noises. I thought it was all in jest until Mrs. Rush stepped into the shower from the pool deck. The guys in the shower performed nonchalant pirouettes to face the walls with their backs to the intruder. Someone said, "Hey Coach Rush, Josh says you can't handle seeing what he's got in his suit."

She laughed and said, "what suit? I think he practiced nude for a couple of weeks, and from what I remember, I would have needed a magnifying glass to see anything."

The guys all laughed and groaned. I reprised my starring role as boiled lobster.

~~~~~ ~~~~~

The next meet was at a school four hours away by bus. I earned the most points for the men's team, and we actually won the meet. The girls lost in a squeaker. Mrs. Rush acted like she won the lottery and wanted to celebrate. Unfortunately, the other school had the visiting team use the women's locker room and the home team use the men's. Each team let one gender shower and change before admitting the other gender.

Mrs. Rush sent the girls in first. She came back out after a while and told us it was our turn. Once inside, I found it hard to breathe for a moment. The women were dressed and sitting around the lockers. The showers were separate and not readily viewable from the lockers, but I'm not sure the other guys would have minded even if the women had a great view.

I showered in my suit as always. The guys who finished before me walked out to the locker area wearing towels. I assumed they would dress modestly with the towels foiling any peepers. When I walked into the locker area in my suit, Mrs. Rush said, "You can't ride home four hours on the bus wearing that suit. Go back in the shower and take it off."

I sighed and shrugged my shoulders and searched my mind for any excuse for not complying. I told myself I could wrap myself in a towel and peel off the suit in seconds. I tried, but the speedo was so tight I needed both hands to wriggle out of it. The towel dropped to my feet as I struggled. I heard giggling and looked up. Half a dozen feminine heads leaned around the corner to look at me. One said, "That's what Mrs. Rush can't handle seeing," in a skeptical voice. Giggles turned into laughs and I turned into a lobster.

Mrs. Rush shooed the girls away shaking her head in a rueful gesture I interpreted as her saying I got what I deserved. I didn't want to go back to the locker area even shielded within my towel. I shivered even though I wasn't cold standing in the steamy lingering heat of the shower. When I nerved myself up and joined the others with my head held high, Mrs. Rush paused in her team spirit congratulations speech to look at me and ask, "What were you doing in there for so long?" After a long pause when I felt every eye in the room on me, she said, "Did the girls get you excited? Well, I suppose that's one way to celebrate a win."

A few people uttered half hearted laughs. Mrs. Rush smiled and added, "I'll give my top scorer a certain leeway on shower etiquette, but I hope you cleaned up any mess you left."

Half the people in the room groaned, "Ewwwww."

I wanted to die. I pulled my sweatpants up under my towel while Mrs. Rush resumed her speech. I didn't have any underwear with me because I wore my suit under my sweatpants for the ride to the meet. I felt exposed and floppy even after I pulled a shirt over my head and tossed my towel and wet suit in my gym bag.

We didn't get home until after midnight. It was a long lonely ride sitting in a row by myself. Natalie and one of her girlfriends sat in the seats across the aisle from me on the way to the meet, but I felt like a pariah for the return trip. It may have all been in my head. Maybe my teammates didn't treat me differently, but it felt like it to me. It felt like they all thought I was a pervert.

~~~~~ ~~~~~

The next day after practice, I walked in the shower, and one of the guys said, "Whoa, buddy. Wait for me to get out of here before YOU shower." The three or four naked guys in the shower all laughed.

I know I overreacted, but I skipped the next practice and wrote an email to Mrs. Rush saying I quit the team. She replied saying I couldn't quit the team because I was her highest scorer and I'd let everybody down. I said I was too humiliated to set foot in the locker room again, that I felt singled out and victimized by her, and as an aside, I mentioned that I didn't think it was right for a female coach to be in the men's locker room.

I didn't hear anything for a couple of days, and when I did, it was a knock on my dorm room door. A pretty blonde girl I didn't know said she was from the school paper and wanted to interview me about why I quit the dive team. I told her I didn't want to talk about it, but she batted her eyelids and made me feel like a heel for denying her my story.

"I'm uncomfortable when Mrs. Rush comes in the men's locker room. I see her glancing at my nude teammates while they shower. After the last meet, she kept the entire women's team in the locker room while the men showered and changed. She ordered me to take off my bathing suit, and didn't stop several girls from peeking on me in the shower. When I was reluctant to dress in front of the entire women's team, she joked in front of everybody suggesting I stayed in the shower too long because I was doing something nasty in there."

"What did she think you were doing?" The pretty reporter showed a winning smile.

"You'll have to ask her that. I was just trying to preserve some tiny amount of modesty."

The reporter wrote some notes on her smart phone. She asked, "Anything else?"

I knew I shouldn't have talked to the reporter, and I knew I shouldn't say any more, but I let my mouth run. "I don't think it's right or fair that women reporters go in men's locker rooms, but male reporters are almost never allowed in women's locker rooms. The same is true for coaches. Would a male coach go in the women's locker room while the women were showering?"

She didn't say anything, so I continued. "Women's privacy is respected, but men's privacy is trumped by equal employment opportunity concerns." I didn't know what I was talking about. I was a fool.

The reporter looked into my eyes. I looked into hers. I saw something frightening. I saw the look of a reporter with good story. She turned to leave but asked, "One more thing. Is it true you're the top scorer on the team, and they can't win without you?"

I said, "I scored the most at the last meet, but the whole team is strong. They'll do fine without me."

~~~~~ ~~~~~

Both the men's and women's teams lost at the next meet. The school newspaper ran a story about how the team was weakened without their top scorer. The article quoted me several times. I felt like an asshole. The article ended with a couple of questions. One was, "Should Coach Rush keep her job?" The other was, "If a male coach is hired to replace her, should he be allowed in the women's locker room?"

Half the campus talked about the article. The newspaper sold so many copies that they had a second printing. A group of unpleasant girls formed an almost twenty-four hour a day protest outside my dorm room door. They jeered at me and followed me to the bathroom. There was only one bathroom on my floor. It was supposedly a men's floor, but the bathroom door didn't say "men's". It had no sign at all. Several times, the protesters followed me into the bathroom. I started using toilet stalls even if I only needed to pee. The showers were individual stalls, but I didn't feel comfortable showering with protesters heckling me from two feet away on the other side of a thin partition.

I called the reporter and updated her on my status. I told her about women following me into the bathroom. I said something like, "This campus has turned into a hostile environment. I'm not sure I'll come back."

Another article quoted me, and then I got a call from the Dean of Student Affairs. Apparently, my words meant something sinister to him because he asked if I had hired a lawyer and if I planned to sue the university. I said I didn't plan to sue anybody and made an excuse to hang up..

The next call was from Mrs. Rush. I could tell she had been crying. She might have been drunk. She said something about how I was ungrateful and stabbed her in the back after all she had done for me.

Natalie walked up to me where I was eating in the cafeteria with a few friends from my English class. She said, "I thought you were a nice guy. It just goes to show - you can't tell a book from its cover. Grow up, asshole."

I got an email from one of the dive girls I didn't know well. She asked me to meet her in the common recreation area of her dorm across campus. When I arrived, she led me into a side room where half a dozen girls glared at me. They pulled up their tops exposing their breasts and one said, "There! Does that make you happy? Are we all even now?"

They put their shirts back down, and I turned to leave, but instead, I sat on the couch. I put my head in my hands, and I said, "I'm sorry. I don't know what they're doing to Mrs. Rush, but I didn't ask for any of it. I just wanted a little privacy. Is that so bad? How would you like a male coach traipsing through your shower every day?"

"Why don't you?" one of the girls asked.

"What do you mean?" I whined.

"Why don't you traipse through the women's shower if it's such a big deal? We wouldn't stop you."

"Yeah, right." I said. "Besides, two wrongs don't make a right. As much as I'd like to see more of you, I still don't want to be exposed to you."

"Are you some kind of prude? What's the matter with you?" The girl who said it wrinkled her face as if I smelled bad.

"Seriously?" I asked. "None of you mind being seen naked by random men? None of you would feel violated? None of you would feel threatened?"

When nobody answered within a few seconds, I stood and left. I felt terrible. I walked around campus collecting my thoughts, and then I walked to Mrs. Rush's office. I got there an hour before the evening practice was scheduled to start. She looked terrible as if she hadn't slept.

I knocked on her open door and said, "I'm sorry."

She looked at me for a long time. I asked, "So what has happened?"

"I kept my job, but it's only because everyone on the men's team signed a letter and sent it to the dean. It said they wanted me to stay as their coach, and I was welcome in their locker room any time."

"They really did that?" Of course they did. It was a stupid question. I said, "I'm sorry."

She looked at me. I couldn't read the expression on her face. I asked, "Why did you keep the girls in the locker room? Why did you humiliate me in front of everybody?"

"It was a joke," she said without much conviction.

"Can I come back to the team?"

"Why?" she asked.

"I feel like an asshole. I feel like I let everybody down. I feel like I'm the only one who is shy and doesn't want to be ogled."

"I never thought you felt ogled. I didn't mean to make you so uncomfortable."

"Why did you let the girls peek at me in the shower?"

"I didn't 'let' them. It's not like they consulted me first. I made them leave you alone when I saw what they were doing. I still didn't think it was a big deal. You're college students. Girls will be girls - and all that."

"How many times has the excuse been 'boys will be boys' when a girl was the victim?"

"Grow up. You're not a victim. If anything, the girls were complimenting you."

"Like construction workers compliment women walking by. Except, I was nude, and they were laughing instead of catcalling. Which is worse?"

"I'm not sure I want you back on the team," Mrs. Rush said with a dark tone.

"I understand," I turned to leave.

She said, "What would make it right? Do you want me to stay out of the men's locker room from now on?"

"I thought you didn't want me back."

"I want to be fair," she claimed.

"I don't know," I whined. "I really don't. I don't know what to say. Part of me says you've seen everything I've got already and there isn't any more harm. Another part of me really does feel violated."

"Come to tonight's practice," she said.

~~~~~ ~~~~~

Practice went like all the others except that not many people talked to me. Afterward, I collected my towel from my bag and headed toward the shower with my suit still on. The door from the pool deck opened, and a stream of girls walked in as if it was nothing. They carried their gym bags, and they started taking off their clothes. Soon, every shower head was occupied. Half were occupied by naked girls. More girls loitered undressed outside the shower as they waited for a head to become available. Soon, most of the guys waited naked as well.

Not all the dive team girls were there. Natalie wasn't. I found myself waiting for a shower head, and I was the only person in the room wearing a stitch of clothing. When a guy turned off his shower head and walked towards the waiting crowd, some of the girls made catcall whistles. The guy bowed, and pushed his way through the milling sea of flesh. "After you," A short girl said while gesturing me to take the open spot.

I couldn't think with all the beautiful breasts and toned bodies around me. I reluctantly took my spot and turned on the water.

"Really?" the girl at the next shower head over said. "After all this, you're going to keep your suit on?"

I don't know what I was thinking. I wasn't thinking. I wriggled out of my suit. I don't remember much about the moment, but I distinctly remember the sensation of my penis flopping free from the suit.

"There. Is that so bad?" The girl next to me said. Three of the waiting girls walked up to me and hugged me mashing their bare breasts against me. I trembled, and looked at my feet, but what I saw made my breath catch. One of the girls had pierced her clitoral hood with a little gold ring that had a ball on it. I don't know how I didn't notice when she was waiting for the shower, and I don't know how I didn't see its outline through her bathing suit during practices.

When the girls released me, everyone looked at my stout four and a half inch erection. One of the girls said, "Oh look. He likes me." Everybody laughed. Even I laughed.

There was no reason to stay in the shower, so I bent to pick up my speedo and walked out to grab my towel. I think some of the girls deliberately assured that my raging stiff cock brushed against them. Somebody said, "Oh no. This is a hostile environment," and everybody laughed again.

~~~~~ ~~~~~

The girls never showered with the guys again. Mrs. Rush made a dramatic point of shouting in to ask if everyone was decent before she entered the shower. Some of the guys started saying, "Yeah - all fine," while they were still naked. Mrs. Rush leered at their goodies whenever that happened.

The men's team won several meets with my help, and Mrs. Rush kept her job for the next year. I occasionally heard people whispering about the shower pervert with the tiny penis. It hurt me more than I admitted to anyone. Natalie seemed polite with me at practices and meets. I knew I had blown any chance with her.

~~~~~ Author's Note ~~~~~

A female judge ruled in 1978 that female reporters could not be barred from men's locker rooms unless male reporters were similarly banned. Up to a third of all sports reporters are now women. Female reporters and camera women are routinely in professional sports locker rooms. At most older stadiums and almost all minor league facilities, showers are communal and often open for view from anywhere in the locker room. Candid videos of nude male athletes have circulated among certain fans for decades.

Think about the ridiculous uproar about Janet Jackson's split second wardrobe malfunction and the fines payed by the TV network. In contrast, CSN showed the Cubs mascot naked on live TV without any repercussion other than editorials about how the man's penis was shown "... for nearly 10 seconds of live TV on Tuesday night after someone at CSN Mid-Atlantic apparently decided to have a little fun."

Poor video editing resulted in a FOX affiliate station airing a glimpse of the admittedly spectacular penis revealed by Minnesota player, Visanthe Shiancoe, in the Vikings' locker room after a game.

For your Internet searching fun, look up "Kristen Davis, a 19 year-old journalism student writing for the Arizona Wildcat, discusses what it is like having a naked athlete's dick in front of her notebook in full view during a sports interview," and, "An 18 year-old girl discusses how she was given a press pass and what it is like interviewing naked male athletes," and, "Salon Magazine discusses numerous issues and encounters between female reporters and nude athletes."

Our culture perceives men as lascivious and predatory. A woman's modesty is an asset, and she has a natural right to preserve her modesty. In many cases, male modesty is considered irrelevant. A man in the women's shower is a threat, but a woman in the men's shower is not. It may be because of the relative biologic costs women face as compared to men when copulations occur. It may be because women are "less visual." It may be because "women's work" includes intimate caregiving tasks so they've seen it all before. It may be because macho men are expected to want to show their assets (think of the infamous unsolicited penis pictures women receive).