I had never learned to swim. I decided in my late twenties to learn at least some basics, so I signed up for a one-time basic swimming lesson for one evening at the local center. I guess most people swam and worked out early in the morning or right after work; because, by seven o'clock, the place was pretty much deserted. My class had only three older ladies and myself in it.
Our instructor was to be Harry Wolfe. And when, I first read it in the brochure I seriously though his name was some kind of joke. The class information stated he worked at the local college as a coach for the swim team and as an instructor of sports therapy.
The evening of the class, I walked in and the ladies were already in the pool, talking loudly about their upcoming trip together to Cancun. I could feel their eyes on me.
"Well, aren't you a pretty one," one of them said loudly as I pulled off my t-shirt.
"Mildred!" one of the others squealed. "We can't take you nowhere."
"Jackie, I ain't got the time nor the energy to be shy. I'm too old to be quiet," Mildred responded before splashing water at Jackie.
The third one, Rhonda, just laughed in the background.
I laughed and introduced myself. I struck up a conversation with them. We were having fun, and then Mildred turned her head.
"Well, damn," she said softly.
The rest of us turned as the door to the pool closed shut with an echoing bang behind our instructor. My mouth dropped, as did the ladies'.
Harry Wolfe was well over six-feet tall with a muscular v-shaped torso. His chest muscles were thickly-rounded and covered in curly brown hair. His arms and legs were almost as hairy as his chest. He had a head of close-cropped wavy brown hair and a big toothy smile. We were all in lust. I was glad I was half-hidden under the water of the pool.
"I'm your instructor, Harry Wolfe," he said to us all. Then he growled really loud and laughed. "It's okay, ladies, I don't bite," he said joking to the giggling ladies and then he looked at me. "Well...not much." He looked at me a few seconds too long with his devastatingly bright green eyes.
He started right into the lesson. We did a few introductory exercises that got us to move away from the safety of the pool's edge. Then Harry showed us how to float. He joked with us and we were all having a good time. We learned enough that we could swim to shore if we fell into water or at the very least, just float or tread water. After the lesson, the women got out of the pool and headed to the changing room. I was a bit slower.
At the ladder, I turned to look back at Harry. He had swum out to the deep end, climbed out, and was on the diving board. His swimming trunks were plastered against his thick hairy thighs. Even after his time in the cool water, there wasn't any disappointment in the area of his crotch. He saw me checking him out; he pulled at the waistband of his trunks and he grinned before diving into the pool.
In seconds, he resurfaced near me in an explosion of water. He wiped the water from his face and ran his fingers through his hair.
"Soon, you'll be able to do that," he said, smiling and winking at me.
"As long as I can doggy-paddle and float, I'll be completely happy," I replied shyly.
