fantastic body. It was reassuring to her that it hadn’t been a fluke thing. She marched straight to him.
“I want what happened up here to remain a secret,” Cindy said in her best no-nonsense voice.
“Sure, Sis,” Jimmy nodded. “I won’t tell a soul.”
“And I want you to stop spending so much time at the pool…” Cindy began.
“But, I’ve got to!” Jimmy interrupted, aghast at her orders. “I’ve got to win the State championship! And if I make a good showing, I might have a chance at an Olympic spot in a few years.”
“Hey, I didn’t know,” Cindy said. “Okay. But just go there for practice. No more of this fucking around. I don’t want you to knock up some stupid kid that ain’t on the pill, you understand?”
Jimmy nodded. Gee, didn’t she know I was a virgin until last night? Jimmy asked himself. Obviously not.
Cindy nodded to herself. “Okay. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes. Pretend nothing’s changed between us. Eat after I’ve gone to work, as usual. And don’t fuck around with the maids, you hear?”
“Yeah, Sis,” Jimmy nodded. “I hear.”
Cindy jerked her head in a sharp nod, turned on her heel, and walked from the room. She still had doubts about that story about the pool. But those trophies had to come from somewhere. Perhaps it’s just as well, she thought. If he’s really practicing, he’ll be my lover exclusively.
Cindy didn’t take into account the powerful needs of a growing boy.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jimmy hit the water with a splash. The coolness swept over him as he pulled himself along with his strong arms, thrusting his body through the water with practiced ease. He quickly settled down into the rhythm he’d use for the next ten to fifteen minutes. He was just doing one of the intermediate races, and not one of the long ones that were his specialty. He glanced to his left, trying to catch a glimpse of his teammates racing along with him. Jimmy hoped he could do much better this time around than the last race he’d swum for practice. The State tournament was coming along shortly, and his form was suffering somewhat from the exertions from the night before. His young body was in top shape, and it was only in the mental areas of concentration that he suffered.
He approached the first turn, and brought his mind down on the problem of maneuvering his body through the rigors of bringing about a smooth transition. He made it smoothly, and his mind finally cleared of the disturbing images of his sister standing naked before him, her tits and bush burning into his eyes. His mind was now concentrating upon the race, the water, the position he was in, and the calls from the coach on the side of the pool telling them the times and how they were doing. Jimmy noted in the far corner of his mind that the coach was no longer riding him like he had during the first part of the practice. The race wore on.
Coach Robert Finderson nodded to himself as he watched the five swimmers clit through the water of the Olympic-sized pool. He had been curious at Jimmy’s lack of concentration, but he was glad now the young boy was getting into the rhythm of the swim. Bob had high hope for the boy. Bob knew Jimmy was a natural, and with his natural stamina, amazing for one so young, he knew the boy had a good chance at getting the gold medal at the upcoming State tournament.
The afternoon sun beat down upon all those in the pool as the race was reaching its final lap. Bob saw Jimmy picking up the pace, using his superior stamina to push the other swimmers to the ultimate limit of their abilities. Bob knew from the way the swimmers hit the last turn that Jimmy would win easily, and he smiled to himself. Jimmy was sure making up for his earlier lapses in concentration. Bob grinned. He liked having State champions listed on his record.
Bob Finderson was a tall young man who had been teaching swimming at Marketville High School for the last three years. He had black hair, brown eyes, and a dark tan from his many hours at poolside. His face was handsome, and there were girls writing him mash notes all the time. He knew he was popular with the boys, too. The understood him and respected him. He was young enough so he could identify with them, and yet old enough to be the boss when it came right down to it. His wife was a math teacher, and she was a knockout. The Findersons had brought a touch of class to the school system.
The swimmers finally reached the last five yards of the race, and Bob rushed over to the end of the pool. He watched as Jimmy easily beat the other swimmers, and as the young boy gripped the edge of the pool, looking at the others coming in, he grinned.
Jimmy was tired and aching, but it was a feeling he’d come to know well in his many years of training. He had started out because he’d loved the water, and now he knew he was old enough to realize he perhaps had a future in the events. He would be peaking out just as the State tournament came into being, and he could win three or perhaps four medals if he did well. He was proud of his prowess, even though it was a pure strain on him. He wasn’t ready yet for the big time, but he knew that in a few, more years, he’d be able to compete in the NCAA championships.
“Good show, Jimmy,” Bob smiled from the edge of the pool. “Now, get out of the water, and go take a shower. I want to talk to you. Go sit in my office.”
Jimmy nodded, and pulled his lean, tanned, muscular body from the clasping grip of the water.
He walked, dripping water all along the way, to the I shower. He was glad the owner of the pool let the school use it for practice every afternoon. The school pool was fine, but it was slightly shorter than Olympic-size, and it could throw a swimmer off if he practiced too much in it. So three days a week, the owner of the pool allowed the boys to use it. The other two days were for the girls’ swimming team.
After a brisk shower, and a change of clothing, Jimmy walked to Coach Finderson’s office. Jimmy was glad practice was over for the day. He was anxious to get on with his affairs. He had to study for an algebra test tomorrow, and wait for Cindy to come home. He was really looking forward to that.
Bob Finderson walked into the office and sat down at the desk. “Well, Jimmy, what was the matter out there?”
“I don’t know, Coach,” Jimmy said. “I just couldn’t seem to concentrate.”
“Why?” Bob asked. He knew something was on the young boy’s mind. He knew enough to wait. It’d come out eventually.
“I don’t know, Coach,” Jimmy stammered. He couldn’t get the picture of his delectable sister out of his mind. He could feel his prick start to swell in his old faded jeans. He was embarrassed, and he blushed.
“Ahhhhh,” Bob smiled. “So it’s a girl. What happened, you get your first piece of ass?”
Jimmy’s ears flushed a bright, lobster red, and he nodded, grinning sheepishly.
“Fine,” Bob nodded. “I was worried that it was school work or something. Okay, I won’t tell you to stop, because I know better. Just keep your bedroom thoughts in the bedroom, okay? And concentrate on swimming when you’re in the pool. That’s all I ask.”
“Sure thing, Coach,” Jimmy smiled.
Cindy stared at the mass of papers on her desk, and sighed. She reached out and picked up her coffee cup, and took a sip of the scalding liquid. It jerked her awake as the fluid burned her tongue. She checked over the designs she would be revealing in the International Showing in a few weeks. She knew the designs were all first rate, and they represented the culmination of many years of hard work. And now her nerves were giving her trouble. She wondered about that. She brushed some of her hair from her face, and tried to concentrate. She’d have to be certain the models she used would accent her patterns to the fullest.
A knock on the door disturbed her thoughts. She rubbed two of her fingers across her creased forehead. She put down the coffee cup, and sighed again. She was used to interruptions. It was one of the things she had to put up with.
“Come in,” Cindy said loudly, hoping her irritation showed.
Chiffon Swanlion flowed into the room. She was the top model in Cindy’s operation, and one of the top three models in the country. She was a temperamental and a star. She had high cheekbones, a slim, girlish figure, and was tall. Her blonde hair was thick and her perfectly made-up face was enough to send most fashion photographers scrambling for their cameras.
“What can I do for you, Chiffon?” Cindy asked, holding her irritation inside. She was, tense, but she had enough business sense to know she needed Chiffon for the showing in a few weeks.
