The pool supervisor at the local college had allowed me swimming privileges on campus even though I was not a student there. I had explained to him that I was fed up with the YMCA, where there were too many bratty children, belligerent women, and degenerate guys to justify the name Young Men's Christian Association. The kind supervisor, a muscular stud with dark hair and eyes, understood my plight, and allowed me to pay a small fee per semester to use the pool. Of course, my main interest was to use the locker room and shower amenities, and to enjoy watching all the other guys, particularly the swim team members, diving team participants, and water polo players, in the pool.
I happened to be in the pool one afternoon as the diving team rushed in. After all jumping into the water, they got back out and lined up on the deck behind the diving board ladder. There were twelve of them, but the last few were behind a partition (basically a tall wooden screen about six feet wide) which stood on the middle of the deck and hid some pool supplies. The pool supervisor saw me and said that I could join the group if I wished. Before he finished speaking, I was out of the water and behind the partition.
Each diver was to perform two dives in a row before taking has place at the end of the line. For the others, this meant a lot of waiting, but that turned out to be a good thing.
I entered the line behind Gino, a pumped-up powerhouse of Italian descent whose dark black curls were as provocative as the top of his butt cleavage and the upper ridges of his muscular buttocks, which showed out from where his light blue transluscent Speedo had slipped down during his earlier playful entry into the pool. Always the athletic stud, Gino was a swimmer and water polo player as well as a diver.