I even hated being seen in the showers by the usual middle-aged ladies. Now these tall, confident, young women were stripping off as if it was nothing. I saw with dread that they all had shaved pubic hair. I scanned over their thin strips, even some completely bare labia.
More aware than ever of my small, non-swimmers body, I fumbled off my clothes and then my panties too. I followed them into the shower and quickly wet my body and hair. It was hard not to look at their terrific forms -- their strong shoulders and full busts, firm backsides.
My own nipples had gone minuscule with nerves. I was trying to keep my hands looking casual but clasped in front of my black hair, as I waited in the changing room for the girl fetching my new swimsuit. I was the last one left naked.
The woman smiled as she handed over the folded navy nylon. The rest of the girls were smiling too. I started to pull it on, and by the time I had it over my wet body, the swim team had exited and I was alone.
I adjusted the shoulders and crotch of my new uniform, and realised what all the smirking had been about. It was a swimsuit fit for one of them, not my petite frame. Being tight material, it wasn't absurdly loose, but it would certainly make me look funny. As I scurried along to the pool, following the girls, I made sure the shoulder straps wouldn't suddenly leave me topless.
Even the guys were grinning at me, craning to get a look, as we all lined up for the coach. Everyone must be in on it, I thought. Maybe this was an initiation thing... But I knew deep down that they simply didn't want me there. Well, I was about to show them what I could do.
The coach gave us five minutes to warm up. I had perfected my short dive. I launched myself into the air, body fixing straight before I slipped into the water, arms at my side. I could feel the suit being pulled off but couldn't stop the dive. I swam deeper for protection, bringing my knees up, hand grappling to find the material. It wasn't at my chest. I searched lower, getting frantic.
At the touch of bare stomach I would have screamed if I hadn't been underwater. At my pubic hair, I felt faint. The suit back over my hips, I looked around. People were floating near me. I twisted to try and hide my chest. Then I surfaced as quickly as possible and started on my lengths of the pool.
They had seen that my suit had come down to my thighs but could they have made out any details of my chest or bottom. Had they noticed the dark patch of my hair. My face was burning, but I convinced myself I didn't care if they had seen glimpses of my skin underwater.
As I reached the other side of the pool though, getting ready to flip round so I could push off for the return, I realised that my shoulder straps had come right off. My tits were about to pop out. I had to slow to fix myself at every return.
The coach eventually shouted that time was up, and we all moved back to the deeper end of the pool. At the side, I simultaneously pulled myself out and remembered the loose suit. My mouth opened wide as I realised I was topless.
Several guys were looking at my white, plump breasts, my pink hard nipples. I adjusted the suit underwater then clambered out more carefully. I was really blushing now. It was obvious they were trying not to snigger in front of the coach, who had decided to ignore the mishap.
The coach had finished talking before I had managed to take in that he'd started. Then everyone was suddenly in pairs and going into the water in groups to do an exercise. My, unfortunately male, partner and I climbed into the pool. Through nervousness I ended up agreeing to go first.
Like I'd watched the others do, I sunk down until I was submerged, and propelled myself upside-down. The guy, underwater now too, took each of my ankles. I began to kick, like I was cycling, slow with the resistance of the water and his weight.
From my angle I couldn't really tell what he was seeing, but I knew that I could see him pretty clearly at that distance. I tried to keep my legs close together, but they would separate easily and he wouldn't correct them.
I gave a signal to rise, needing a break. Fixing the crotch of my suit back, I felt hair and the soft bulge of a bare lip. The material was so loose in the water, dislodging so easily. I noticed the straps of my shoulders too, and replaced these.
We went down again. He was working me even harder. It was impossible to spend any effort trying to cover. I'd never been in a team or group, so hadn't done exercises like this before.
Surfacing for another break, I corrected my shoulders then moved a hand to my crotch. He might have even seen the slit of my labia, I thought. There was a hot feeling in my chest. Shame and dread. I stroked a finger along the indented line.
Well, if he was going to see, there was nothing I could do about that. But I wasn't about to let him humiliate me too. That was one thing I could control. My stomach wriggling with nerves and my face burning, but with the heat in my chest gone, I yanked the crotch of my suit fully to the side.
Before we could go below for our third round, the coach shouted for us to switch. I was confused, half relieved, and covered myself. I didn't want him to see me looking at his tight shorts, but caught a few memorable glances as I peddled his legs.
For the first race, doing a front crawl, we were put into groups. The top came down my chest so quickly it was pointless correcting it before the end of every length. But at the end, it was essential -- my kick from the wall turned my body straight and upward for a moment as I twisted round.
Starting to fall behind, I grew angry that these girls were getting away with this. I was better than any of them. Even with this handicap I could still beat them. I pushed my body, gliding across the water, perfect form.
I reached the next length before the others, put an arm across my nipples, and completed my turn. Now I was passing the competing women in the other direction, and I ignored my chest flashing up from the water as I powered to the other side.
When I had finally finished and climbed out, the coach took me aside, saying that I was doing great but did I want to continue, that he had noticed there was a problem with my swimsuit. I was embarrassed, but felt proud and strong from winning the race.
They had all probably seen flashes of my nipples as I swam. So what did I care if they saw again. Besides, my tits were so modest. It wasn't like they were big attention-grabbing things, flopping in every direction. Determined to show these girls that they couldn't push me around, I said I would finish the session.
I was put into a group of four women, including the one who had given me the swimsuit. I ignored their sniggering, knowing that if they were concentrating on shaming me this would put me at an advantage.
