The Shower Time Monitors

 We lived for a short time in a small town that had only three schools: elementary, intermediate, and high. That year I was at the intermediate campus, which was for grades 6-9. There were only two coaches for the whole school system, one male and one female. They ran all the sports teams and all the PE classes.When I was in seventh grade our PE class was last period, very end of the day. Which was also when the high school teams began their practice. The male coach supervised us getting changed at the beginning of PE and then he hustled over to the high school group to run the drills. The female coach directed our PE activities. But then came time to undress and shower, which (no matter how far "equality" has come) the female coach could not command that role.

So three ninth-grade boys were selected by the two coaches to supervise us seventh graders at the end of the period. Those boys joined in with our class in whatever work-outs the lady coach assigned us. So the "big" boys needed showers also, in addition to keeping order in the shower room.

At the same time we seventh graders were stripping and lathering up, the three ninth grade dudes did exactly the same thing, right in front of us, no pretense of modesty. They undressed with us, showered with us, and put their street clothes back-on with us.

A few comments have been posted here about the difference in development between boys of various ages. We were seventh graders, most of us were around 12. The shower room monitors were ninth graders, 14 or 15. I guarantee we got an eye-full. The bigger boys walked casually through the locker room in total nudity. They showered in front of us and walked naked to their lockers. They stood around naked while talking.

We knew they did it on purpose to show off their goods. Now, being ninth graders, their junk was not fully man-size grown yet. But they let all of us see what they did have. And we all looked! We talked about their crotches in whispered conversations. They had hair - half-grown patches of pubes, but still it was hair. They had baggy balls - genuine cojones, not little marble bags. Their dicks were an inch or so longer than ours and bigger around. Their pricks kind of swung back and forth when the boys walked. Instead of a spritely wiggle that ours did as we scampered from the showers to our lockers.

 We also learned a whole new vocabulary, and a way of talking that was never heard at home sort of like an insult, but gobs funnier. It was Big Guys Speak....something in-between accusation and approval to us littler dudes.

And what we heard was "Hey, shorty! Did you get your nuts off last night? Don't wait too long between jerks or you'll get blue balls!"

"Hey You, Green plaid boxers! Wanna try on one of the high school cheerleaders tonight? I'll put in a good word for you....... when I'm finished with her."

"Hey Kid, drying your butt! I need a good blow job! Are you open for business?"

"Clifford! Quit rubbing the front of your shorts. Your firecracker might go off and we'd have to drag you back to the showers and clean you up."

 Besides joshing us they played off each other like a trio of comedians: "Watch out for Randy, here. He's horny today. Needs a volunteer to help him shoot a good load. Anybody got a warm hand?"

To which Randy would answer, "Shut your nasty mouth. You can suck me later."

"You lil' dudes ain't seen nothing yet. Wait till Deshaun does a hula dance with a boner going!"

"Well, that would be most any time 'cuz I've always got a boner!"

We loved it. They put on a real show for us. Not only that, but we learned something new every day and couldn't wait to have a private conversation and secret jerk with our besties.

Anonymous