Let me start out by saying I love Perth. It's a beautiful little town in a gorgeous part
of upstate Main with wonderful people. It's a picture postcard place which would be
extremely popular with tourists if everyone there didn't have a tacit agreement to do
whatever it took to discourage tourism. I grew up there, and loved almost everything about
it. The one thing which I didn't love, was that in the clannish, small-town environment,
everyone knew everyone else's business.
You knew who was an alcoholic, who had trouble paying the bills, who committed adultery.
You know that Mr. Anderson liked to walk around naked in his front window and show his
wiener to passersby. You knew not to let your kids near old Mr. Foster. You knew Samantha
Brewster was a slut. You knew Miles Brewbaker had light fingers. You knew Billy Conroy was
a lousy excuse for a mechanic.
Nobody, however, knew very much about me, Danny Flannagan, except that I was a sports
nut, and that I didn't pay nearly as much attention to the boys as the boys paid to me.
See, my father was and is the mayor. In a small town, once you're the mayor, unless you
tick people off a lot, you're pretty much mayor for life. My dad took his job seriously,
part-time though it was. And when he wasn't the mayor, he was running the bottling plant
which bottled spring water. So again, he was a very respectable man, and he expected his
family to maintain his image.
I don't mean he was stern about it, really. Dad's a good guy. But I think we have all
always been aware that anything we do would reflect upon him, and so been extra careful.
That had always been hard on me, because, you see, I'm a slut at heart. I don't know
when I first developed an interest in sex, but earlier, I think, than most girls. And it
was accompanied by the fearlessness I have always had when it came to exploration and
experimentation.
As a little girl, I was a tomboy. I explored town, and then beyond it. I was always
exploring my way up the rivers and over the mountains, and also wild about sports. I was
never afraid of anything. When I hit puberty, nothing much changed in that regard, except
that now I had this interest in sex too. And puberty was kind to me. I'd always been a
pretty girl. Puberty and adolescence gave me the kind of body boys and men look long and
lovingly at.
So basically, I could have my pick. I could explore sex to my heart's content. Except,
of course, that I couldn't. Whatever I did risked becoming public knowledge, which not
only meant getting back to my parents and grandparents and uncles and aunts and brothers,
but spreading all around school and then all around town. Yikes!
So I put my energy into sports instead, and explored even further afield, climbing and
swimming and riding everywhere.
But no matter how I drove myself, sex was a simmering need within me that never quite
went away. I thought about it constantly, read about it obsessively, and explored it with
the only person I could trust to keep things quiet – me. I masturbated every night without
fail, and every morning without fail. I masturbated every evening in the shower, and
sometimes, off alone in the woods and fields.
I developed a lot of fantasies, and I used a lot of toys, from hair brushes to bottles,
to cucumbers and hand showers. But as far as actual real cocks, there was none of that
through high school. Almost. In my senior year my family went to Hawaii on holiday. I
managed to meat a cute boy, get him alone, and lose my official virginity – finally. In
fact, we fucked like rabbits every possible opportunity, and since he had to work, I found
another cute boy and we fucked like rabbits when the first one wasn't available.
All of which is to explain that when I had the opportunity to go to university I wanted
to go as far from my home town as I could get, and a volleyball scholarship was my ticket.
Truth is, I don't even like volleyball all that much. But I'm really good at it. I'm very
fast, very athletic, have really quick instincts. I can do backwards somersaults in
mid-air. I'm a pretty good gymnast, in fact. But I had no hope of getting anywhere with it
because I'm too big, and too heavy.
I don't mean I'm overweight or anything. But you can't be a gymnast and have a woman's
body. You've seen them, they look like little girls. I'm five foot eight and a half. Also,
I have breasts. They're not super huge, but they're there. As for my weight. I weigh more
than most of my friends, because while there isn't much fat on me, there's a lot of muscle
beneath the surface. I'm not one of those bulgy veined weightlifter steroid cases but I'm
strong for a woman, with well-developed muscles in just about every part of my body.
That's worked well for my boobs, by the way. Like I said, they're not big, but the
muscles in my chest are strong and so my breasts are very, very firm, almost springy, you
know. Like, if I run my hands down across my breasts, and kind of push them down, and let
my hands go they bounce up again like they're on springs, my small pink nipples actually
looking like they're pointing up a bit when they're hard.
So anyway, yes, I'm limber and athletic, but no way could I ever go to university on a
gymnast scholarship. Volleyball was different. Sure I'm short, compared to a lot of the
other women, but I'm good. I'm quick, I can jump high, and I can spike the ball with the
best of them.
So anyway, I make the tearful farewells, travel two thousand miles to settle in my
little dorm room on the third floor of the Angela Simms building, and meet my two
roommates. They were both on the volleyball team. Katy Sullivan was tall, blonde and
pretty, but with a big of a square jaw. Cassidy Grant was tall and blonde and pretty. Both
of them were kind of skinny and a bit flat chested.
They didn't look at all alike, btw, other than superficially. Cassidy had really short
hair while Angela's was kept shoulder length, like mine and in a pony tail much of the
time. They were both a year my senior in school and on the team, and they seemed to act a
bit like that made them special or something.
Before school even started for the year we went out to the gym for our first team
meeting and practice. It was a little dismaying, at first. There were a dozen girls on the
team and only two of us were under six feet tall. I got a lot of suspicious looks from the
other girls, who maybe thought I would drag down their chances. And now I recalled the
same doubt in Cassidy and Angela's eyes.
Also, the coach, Mrs. Caldwell, gave a speech which included reminding us that we were
all on the volleyball team, and that anything we did reflected on the rest, and we would
have to answer for it if we made them look bad. Right away I was thinking, shit, just like
at home!
Then we started playing, and it soon became evident to me that, lack of height or not, I
was the best pure athlete on that freaking team. Rookie or not, I was a better server,
too, and that seemed to irritate some of the older girls for some reason. Mostly, though,
it gained me more respect, and there were a lot fewer doubting glances turned my way.
After practice, some of the girls were panting and dragging their asses, but honestly, I
didn't think it was any big deal. Yeah, it was a workout, but I had no difficulty. We went
off to the showers, and that was my first eye-opener. The showers at school in Perth were
not communal. There was a shower room, and in it were like toilet stalls. The toilet
stalls had one half where you showered, and the other half where you dried off and
dressed.
This was just an open area with shower stalls spouting from the walls, and also from
poles in the center of the floor. Everyone crowded in and showered together. It was, like
I said, an eye opener. I'd never been around that much nudity before, female or not. And
they were all pretty darned good bodies. I mean, you didn't get on the volleyball team if
you were fat or flabby.
Had I ever considered sex with a girl? Sure. I’m not gay, but I would have tried it had
there been a way of doing so without any chance of word getting out. Like I said, I'd try
almost anything, and beneath my casual tomboy exterior was a raging slut who was
frustrated at her inability to exercise her hunger for wild, nasty sex.
But having sex with a girl would have been even more dangerous than doing it with a guy,
and with fewer rewards. Namely, I loved penetration. Some girls masturbate without it,
just rubbing their clits. I never masturbate without penetration. It really gets me off to
have something long and hard and thick sliding into me. It just makes my insides quiver
and twist and throb like crazy. So doing it with girls wasn't nearly as interesting as
with guys.
I couldn't help carefully and casually scanning the bodies around me, comparing and
contrasting. And you know what, I had the best body. I mean, Zoe had nicer tits, I think,
because hers were bigger and rounder, but still firm. Karen had a nicer ass, it was just
amazingly perfect. Beth had incredible legs that went on for-fucking ever. Wow. Charlotte
had such a firm belly, her abs could have been in an advertisement.
But my breasts were almost best, not as big as some, but perfectly round and firm and
nicely proportioned to my slender frame. My belly is firm, my ass really tight, my legs
very nicely sculpted. On top of that, while I wasn't blonde and wasn't tall – well, as
tall as them – I was as pretty as any girl there. And frankly, my shoulder length brown
hair is lush and soft and easy to manage as it flows down around my shoulders. I wouldn't
trade it for blonde – especially as most of them were dye jobs.
So anyway, there I was naked and soapy around a bunch of other naked soapy girls. Well,
to begin with, any time I'm naked, I’m horny. That's just the way it is for me. Naked and
soapy makes it a certainty. And being naked and soapy where other people can see me – well
let's just say I realized right then and there just how darkly exciting that was. It was
like, well, you're taught all your life never to let people see you naked, and yet, there
I was with a dozen people seeing me naked!
My nipples were rock-hard. Which embarrassed me, because, I mean, I didn't want everyone
thinking I was some kind of dyke, you know! So I kind of tried to hide them as much as I
could, and hurry up with my washing up. And then the fucking coach comes into the room and
talks with one of the girls, and then walks over to me. I swear!
“Danielle,” she said.
“Uhm, yes, coach?” I gulped.
The showers operate by hand. I guess to save money. You have a lever, and you pull it
down, and the water pours down. The lever, however, doesn't stay down. It springs back up
again, and the water only keeps pouring for like ten seconds. Then you have to pull down
on the lever again if you want more. This is actually no big deal. You can get wet, then
the water turns itself off as you soap up. Then when you're ready to rinse off, you pull
the lever again. Easy.
So anyway, I had already soaped up, and had just started to rinse off when the coach
came over. I stepped back a bit from the water, but then it stopped.
“You did really well out there,” she said. “I have to admit I was surprised. But I
shouldn't have been. You lived up to advance billing. I'm going to put in as a right
hitter to start, but you're very athletic and I'm going to work you in as a libero. We've
never had a rookie libero before but I think you can do it.”
“Thanks Coach!” I said, gratified.
Of course, I was still feeling really, REALLY awkward having her standing there talking
to me while I was COMPLETELY NAKED. I was partly soapy, water and soap trickling down my
body as she talked to me, and believe me, I had never in my life had a conversation with
someone naked – other than the two guys I had had sex with.
Liberos, by the way, were the girls with the best passing and defensive skills on a
team. I knew that with my height I'd never get to play by the net, not at this level, but
libero was a really key player, so I felt flattered.
“You've never played at this level, though,” she said. “So we're going to work you in
easy, get you some experience.”
I nodded uncomfortably. I mean, I didn't want to act like a shy farm girl and cover my
body up. That would have had everyone snickering and pointing. So I did my best to stand
as natural as I could – naked – while every part of me kept screaming to cover myself. I
did actually wind up casually gripping my left bicep with my right arm, which sort of hid
my breasts behind my arm.
The coach talked about how much I'd have to study the playbook and rules, because things
were a lot stricter and more unforgiving here, and I was one of only two rookies on the
team so would have to be prepared for anything, especially if I was to become a libero.
Finally, she turned and left, and I breathed a sigh of relief, for I could finally rinse
off and get some freaking clothes on. Most of the other girls had already finished. So I
pulled the lever and the water poured down on me. I turned my face to it, letting the
water pour over me, soaking and rinsing me off, and the last girl – except me, left.
Okay, no big deal. I pulled the lever again, rinsing off nice, then a third time, and
then ran my hands through my hair to pull out the worst of the water and reached for my
towel.
Except it wasn't there. I looked around and saw nothing but empty hooks. One of the
bitches had taken my towel! I was indignant, but didn't think anything of it. Either it
was a prank or a mistake. Not a big deal, except now I had to go into the locker room
dripping wet and naked, which again made my pussy kind of throb a bit. More public
nudity!
I walked to the entrance and pulled at the door. It was locked.
Here's the set-up. There are two locker rooms which lead to that shower. One is for men,
the other for women. Naturally, only one is unlocked at any one time. When a women's team
practice, the guy's door is locked. And vice versa. Well, the door to the locker room I
had come from wouldn't open. I was stuck there in an empty room naked and dripping wet. I
wasn't sure if this was an accident, a prank, or some kind of rookie initiation.
I tried the other door, and it opened. That got my heart pounding. Did that mean there
was going to be a men’s team heading in here soon? Shit! What the fuck! I pounded on the
other door and yelled but no one came. I could either stay there or try something else. So
I opened the other door and peered out. Still dripping wet, I eased out into the other
locker room, hoping to find at least a towel or something to cover myself.
There was nothing. All the lockers were empty. The only thing this room led to was a
door to the corridor. I went to it and peered through anxiously. There didn't seem to be
anyone in sight. It was a narrow corridor which led to the gym. It also had the doors to
the locker rooms, the supply and equipment rooms, the first aid room and the coaches
offices in it.
I went back and tried the door to the girls shower again but it was still locked. I came
back in, watched the corridor, then decided to risk the dash up it to the women’s locker
room. I was sure now that one or more of them had set me up, but had no way of knowing
which. Heart pounding, I braced myself, and then dashed out into the corridor. Naked! I
scurried up it to the women’s locker room and yanked on the door.
It wouldn't open! Do you fucking believe it!?
I pound on it but there was no sound. My head jerked from side to side, then I darted
back to the men’s locker room – and IT wouldn't open!
I was stuck out in the hall naked!
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