Swimming - Senpai no Shirushi - 1. Chapter 1

Only a few of the younger boys are still swimming as I pull myself up out of the pool. I have a strange realization as I do so.

Even two months ago, when I came to Ogawa High School, I had barely been able to pull myself out of the pool without using the ladder. But my training has improved all parts of my strength and skill, not only swimming but also my power. It seems like a small thing, and a foolish one to be proud of, but I take note of it more as a change than an accomplishment.

I gather around the other boys who have already gotten out and slide into formation with the rest of the first years. I would sometimes stand beside my senpai at times like this, but he has already left the pool, and is talking to Coach Kimura just off the pool deck. They are undoubtedly discussing our upcoming meet against a neighboring school this weekend.

They must be, as it is all anyone has been discussing for weeks. Even among the younger boys such as myself who will only be swimming as an exhibition it has been an exciting topic of conversation.

Exhibition or not, it will be the first swim meet of our high school careers, and we have all put forth our best efforts to prepare. When I joined the team during the summer I knew I would be putting in a lot of time with club activities, but I was still shocked by the extra practices, weight training, and everything else we have been doing to make ourselves ready.

Not that I would ever let on that I was surprised. I saw several of the younger boys complain about the amount of work we have been doing, and their reputations on the team have suffered as a result. While it will not jeopardize their standing in the long run, I felt that putting on a brave face of determination would be better. I feel it is what Senpai would do.

A whistle takes me from my thoughts and I see Kimura-sensei approaching, along with Uotate-senpai and a few of the other older boys who were involved in their conference. By the time they have arrived the few remaining swimmers have followed me out of the pool and the thirty or so boys in our swimming club are gathered around our coach.

Kimura-sensei takes a knee in front of us and I try not to smile. Last week I heard a few of the older guys on the team talking about his habit of doing so. They suspect he may have acquired the habit from an American football movie they watched two years ago on a trip to the regional swim meet. It does give him a sort of Western, jocular vibe, and I try not to meet anyone else’s eye in case someone’s shared smile makes it harder for me to contain my own.

“You have all worked very hard this year,” Kimura-sensei says to us, nodding appreciatively. “I have seen progress from our team, and I have no doubt that we are well prepared for our first meet on Saturday. Our starting swimmers are strong, and I am certain you will all represent the school proudly.

“Tomorrow’s practice will commence at the usual time, but I have not assigned any drills for you. You can swim at your own pace and decide how much you need to swim. You should stay loose, but not overtrain yourselves.”

He looks to our cluster of first year students and smiles.

“Even if you are only swimming in the exhibition on Saturday, I want you to perform at the peak of your abilities. While your scores on Saturday will not affect our match result, it is vitally important that I have a chance to see how well each of you perform.”

We all nod back in understanding. Even the best swimmers in our year are untested in Kimura-sensei’s eye. If any of us want to make the competitive roster this year, we will need to prove ourselves when the stakes are low.

“Please ask me if you have any questions before the end of tomorrow’s practice. Eat well and sleep well today and tomorrow. Please work hard in your final training.”

Kimura-sensei finishes his speech there, stands up, and gives three quick bows in a semicircle in front of himself. We all nod our heads in reply, and a few of the older boys reply that they will do their best. Sensei seems pleased, picks up his clipboard, and walks toward his office.

I smile a bit internally at the end of his speech. His offer to answer any questions was not followed by any actual time to do so. You do not ask your coach if you need anything - you ask your senpai.

I am lucky to have my senpai. He is not only a strong swimmer but also a proud teammate and a good teacher. He is a large part of the reason that I have come so far this year. Without his guidance I would not have been able to make such strides. In deed, so much of my progress is thanks to Uotate-senpai.

You do not get to choose your senpai, per se, but from the first day of practice I was hoping that we would be together. He helped me with my kicking motion and from then it was almost an unspoken agreement between us. As the weeks went by it became more and more certain, and now it is beyond a doubt.

I can speak highly of my senpai’s swimming and coaching, but perhaps more than anything, I respect him as a teammate. While many of the other senpais have gone to the locker room to start their showers, leaving the cleanup work to the younger boys on the team, Uotate-senpai walked straight from coach’s speech back to the pool. As we roll in the lane dividers and mop the pool deck, he is with us the entire time, directing and working with us side by side.

Our school does not have its own pool, so we use the local community pool. We need to make sure everything is in order when we are done so we can retain our privileges. From what Kimura-sensei has said we get a good price on our time here, and our excellent care of this space is part of the reason.

It only takes a few minutes to put everything away, but by the time we get into the locker room most of the third and fourth year boys are already done with their showers. They stand at the benches at various stages in the process, some still toweling off.

I feel a bit intimidated by the older boys, so I do not mind that they shower before the rest of us. They are all bigger, taller, stronger, and more developed than we are. They are a testament to the advantage of years. Not only more time to practice and train, but more time to grow and mature as well.

Senpai is no exception to this. As I step into the shower next to him I try not to stare at his body. His muscular arms, thick back, and strong legs. His hard, defined chin is even starting to sprout a bit of hair. Just one more measure of the man I am not yet.

As I continue to watch him out of the corner of my eye, I see Uotate-senpai lean over and pull off his practice Speedo. As it comes down I get an unobstructed loof at the well-defined lines of strength running from his shoulders, across his back, through his glutes, and down into into his legs. There is so much power in his body.

He turns around to rinse his other side and I quickly avert my eyes, but not before getting another view, one that impresses me perhaps most of all. Senpai’s thick member, nestled inside a full bush of hair. It is as strong and powerful looking as the rest of him, and try as I might to move the image of it from my mind, I cannot.

As I strip off my swimsuit and look down at my own body, it is hard to believe I will ever be like that. So strong and capable, manly and complete. Will my skinny legs, thin arms, and hairless chest and stomach ever reach the level of my senpai? I cannot know for sure, but it is sometimes hard to imagine.

I have made progress this year, and I should not forget that. Compared to the start of the season, I am bigger and stronger, and my times are faster in the pool. I am starting to get wisps of hair under my arms, a bit on my legs, and even a little bit down in my groin. It is nothing compared to the young man standing next to me, but it is a start, and all are pieces of the proof of my advancement.

Senpai finishes his shower and sits on the bench, drying off. I have my back to him, but I can tell his eyes are on me. The thought of him looking at my body makes me nervous, but also excited in a way. Is he thinking the same thing that was just running through my mind? Does he think I am progressing nicely? Or is he worried that his kohai will never be anything but a kid?

I make it a point not to flex my muscles or act differently than I normally would. I do not want him to know that I am so affected by his mere gaze. While contemplating my abilities and development is good, I should not pretend to be anything that I am not.

A moment from several weeks ago still runs through my mind, and it reminds me to be honest with myself. My body is the shape it is. It contains the strength that it has. I can swim only as hard and fast as I am able.

We were finishing practice and several of our veteran swimmers were racing. 800 meters of freestyle. Senpai was one of them.

Their arms and legs churned through the water, propelling them at speeds beyond the capabilities of myself or any of the other boys watching from the edge of the pool. It was the first time the older boys had competed against each other like this, and they were all putting in their maximum effort. As they began their final lap we began to cheer for our senpais, and we craned our necks to lean over the water and get a better look at the finish.

They crashed into the final wall and their heads popped up one after the other in a combined chorus of splashing and shouting. It was close between two boys in the lead, but the audience all pointed to the lane of Saato, one of the fastest swimmers on our team.

While all attention was focused in the far lanes with the victors, however, I saw something happen in the two nearest to me. Almost a half a length behind the winning boy, two other swimmers were now reaching the end of the pool. They both emerged from the water and looked up to see that they did not win. They were not even close.

One of the these final two swimmers was a boy named Muromori. He shook his head as he looked at the other swimmers and called out.

“This is bullshit! How did I lose?”

He threw up his arms and frowned, and a few of the other boys looked at him. He was faster than this, he seemed to be telling them, and he should have won. They looked down at him and encouraged him, telling him that he would do better next time, or that we should have a rematch next practice, or that Kimura-sensei already knew that he would be on the team. Kuromori is popular and emotional, and we know that he is a strong swimmer.

The other boy, however, did not say anything when he saw where he had placed. He nodded once to himself, almost imperceptibly, and then began to stretch his arms against one of the lane dividers. It was a seemingly unimportant reaction, and vastly overshadowed by Kuromori’s outburst.

But I understood what the other boy was saying without words or outward display, because the other boy was Uotate-senpai.

He swam as hard as he could in the race, and he had been beaten. It was not anyone’s fault that he had lost, and he was not displeased with his performance. He was simply not as fast as the other boys. He had trained, prepared, strove, and lost.

While I know that Senpai is not one of the fastest freestyle swimmers on the team, I also know that he did not resign himself to losing. He swam as fast as he could, doing everything in his power to win.

But now that he had lost, he fully accepted responsibility for doing so. The results were true, and he was not the fastest.

And that is what I try to keep in mind when I shower next to Senpai. He is bigger, stronger, faster, and more developed than I am. But I can only try to meet or surpass him. I can try as hard as I can, and I can (and should) pour every part of myself into my training. But if I still fail to do so, and if I fail to measure up in my own or his eyes, than I need to accept that it is the way of things.

I turn back to see if Uotate-senpai is still behind me on the bench, but he is gone, rustling through his locker a few meters away. Perhaps I had just imagined his eyes on me earlier, sizing me up as I had done myself. It is hard not to be self-conscious about such things when you practice with someone above you.

After one additional rinse to clean my body of the chlorine from the pool, I turn off the water and move toward my locker to grab my towel. Most of the other boys are finishing their showers as well, and many of them are talking and joking with each other, sharing their thoughts on how everyone would do at our meet this weekend.

As I have come to expect, however, our area is quiet. It is rare that Senpai and I talk after practice while we are showering or getting dressed. Senpai is not unfriendly or anything like that, he is perhaps just more reflective and brooding than some of the other boys on the team. Since he usually helps us break down the pool after practice, he is naturally compared to the younger members of the team, which makes him seem even quieter.

I finish drying off and getting dressed, noticing that Senpai is waiting for me. He must want to talk about something, but is hoping to have my full attention. It is most likely about the meet this weekend. Senpai has always advised me well, and I am excited for whatever he has to tell me.

Uotate-senpai nods to the bench next to him and I have a seat. We are close enough that our legs are touching a little bit, and I am surprised when senpai reaches over to me and puts his arm on my shoulder. He gives it a light squeeze and I feel my cheeks start to heat up at the familiarity of his touch.

“Tanaka-kun,” he starts, looking directly into my face, something common when speaking down to one’s kohai. “You are doing very well.”

My cheeks have entered a state of molten magma. While Senpai is always kind to me, it uncommon to hear such a direct compliment from him.

I lower my eyes and wave my free hand in front of me.

“No,” I say, “I am trying very hard but I am not a strong swimmer.”

I do believe that I am making strides, but it is proper for me to deflect the compliment. My statement is true regardless, I am still not a strong swimming, certainly not when compared to Senpai or the other older boys on the team.

Senpai smiles and it reassures me, makes me feel less nervous.

“I am not the only one who thinks so,” he says, “Sensei and some of the other senpais agree. You are developing very nicely.”

I return his smile, in spite of myself. I cannot pretend to not be happy to hear news like this, and this praise is more in line with what I truly believe about myself.

“I am progressing because of you.”

He gives my shoulder another squeeze and then drops his arm. He reaches into his bag, sitting at his feet, and pulls out a small envelope, the sort I might get at the New Year from my grandmother.

“There is one more thing we will need to do before the meet on Saturday,” he says, pressing the envelope into my hand. My intuition was correct, and I can feel a few heavy coins inside the package.

“Get everything on the list before you come to practice tomorrow. If you have any extra, you can buy an eclair for yourself.”

He knows that eclairs are my favorite kind of sweet, so if I was not already excited to help Senpai in picking up these items, I certainly am now.

“Hai!” I say, with the intonation of a soldier. “ I will bring everything that you need. Even if there is not enough-”

Before I can finish, he laughs. “There will be enough,” he says, with a smile.

“Where can I go to get everything?” I ask. “Should I go right now or wait until tomorrow?”

Senpai thinks for a brief second and furrows his brow.

“Go tomorrow on your way to practice,” he says. “Any sort of yakkyoku should work in the city, and it will only take about five minutes to find everything.”

I nod in understanding. “There is a drug store near my house.”

He stands up and grabs his bag. He bows lightly to me and I return the gesture, but deeper and more seriously. He laughs.

Sometimes I try and do everything right around Senpai, and usually, like now, he just thinks it is amusing. My textbook language and deferential bows probably seem a little bit funny to him, and I am glad no one else is in the locker room near us to witness it. It may be silly, but I know that Senpai is a serious person, and he appreciates it, even if it makes him chuckle.

We exchange our goodbyes and Senpai leaves to catch his train. He lives farther out in the country than I do, and if he misses his train immediately after practice, he will have to take a local train the whole way back home. Even now he is probably cutting it close and I gently scold myself for holding him up at the end of practice with all my questions.

As I make my way out of the gymnasium and walk to my bus stop, I find myself wondering what could possibly be on the list that he gave me. Could it be some sort of training supplies? Perhaps something that all team members get before their first meet. A badge, headband, or something like that. Although I have not seen any of the older boys with anything that fits the description, perhaps it is only a tradition for the first year swimmers.

I get onto my bus and tell myself that I will not look at the envelope until tomorrow morning. The curiosity is eating my alive, but Uotate-senpai told me not to buy everything until tomorrow.

Is it a surprise? Is it something that I can only get tomorrow and simply will not help me tonight if I have it?

I am quite sure that there are two five hundred yen coins in the envelope. If I factor in a few common items from a drug store and enough to get an eclair - exactly one hundred thirty-one yen, then I imagine they will be small things, items that cost around two hundred yen each. But that does not rule out much in the store I am planning to go to. A toothbrush? A sports drink? What else would make sense?

My whole ten minute bus ride is a back and forth of me holding the envelope in my hand and forcing myself to not open it. My obedience eventually wins out, as I convince myself that if I open the envelope now, I might lose the money inside. While I could easily afford the cost myself out of my pocket money, Senpai gave me what he gave me for a reason. I need to respect his wishes and use exactly what he gave me.

At home it is better, but never far from my thoughts. I am still brimming with curiosity about Senpai’s ominous instructions. By the time I finish dinner with my family and go back to my room, the urge to open the envelope has dissipated a little, but while I am prepared to be strong of will, the envelope is all I can think about.

I kept it in my pocket all through dinner and found my left hand often wandering down to feel its shape and make sure it was still there. My parents clearly could see that something was distracting me, and it took several repeated questions for me to focus enough on their normal inquiries into my day.

In my room, I pull off my clothing and get immediately into my sleeping clothes. Even though I have one more full day until our meet, I want to get to bed early and be well-rested. Even though I am only swimming in a exhibition, I am determined to prove true the words that Uotate-senpai spoke earlier today.

As I roll out my futon, my eyes drift to some of my omamori, sitting neatly on a shelf above my mattress. I look at them for a few minutes, and try to decide which one I want to put under my pillow.

I have the typical good-luck charms that every boy and girl in Japan has, but I have a few that are a bit different, and I decide that one of those will do the trick. The one I pick out is a rabbit and a shark, and I cannot help but smile as I think of it.

My brother gave it to me a few months ago when I joined the swimming club, and he said that it would bring me good luck in all my swim meets. I was very excited when he gave it to me. He is older than I am, and started university this fall. He does not usually make an effort to connect with me, but I thought that maybe he was growing more sentimental as he was getting ready to go to college several hours away in Tokyo.

He is my brother however, and the omamori was anything but a simple swimming charm.

I slept with it under my pillow every night for the first few weeks of swimming practice, and even brought it to practice once to show the other boys in my class. It was too special for me to keep on a keychain or anything like that, but I was eager to show it off to some of my friends.

As the boys were looking at it, I quickly learned that none had ever seen one like it before. I fielded the inevitable questions about how a rabbit and a shark could be a swimming charm, as only one of them can swim. I was just in the middle of telling everyone my tale, as relayed to me by my brother, when I heard someone laughing behind me.

I turned around and was surprised to see Kimura-sensei peering over my shoulder and chuckling. My face went red immediately, but Sensei’s eyes were only happy. He was not being mean spirited, simply having a good-natured laugh.

“What?” I asked him. “Is the story wrong?”

He smiled again and began to tell me the real story of the White Hare of Inaba.

“One day a proud and cunning hare was preparing to travel. He found that he needed to cross the ocean to reach the city of Inaba. He, being a hare, had no means to cross the water.”

Even with only that information, I was feeling very doubtful that my omamori would do much for me in the way of swimming.

“The hare found a shark on the coast, and made a boast to him. ‘My people, the hares,’ he said, ‘are much more plentiful than yours. I want to prove it to you, but I have never seen all the sharks of the ocean gather in one place to be counted. Gather all your family in a straight line so that I might walk across your backs and count you all.’

“The sharks accepted his challenge and lined up all the way from the island to the mainland. The rabbit quickly hopped along all the sharks, but as he approached his goal, he could not help himself.

“‘You foolish sharks!’ he cried out. ‘I have tricked you. I did not want to count you, just to walk across your backs.’

“He spoke too soon however, and the last shark in the line reached up and bit him. It took all his hair off, so only muscle and sinew were left.”

He completed his story and laughed again.

“Not much of a swimmer, the hare.”

I did not know what to say. My brother’s version had been much more fortuitous for the hare, and even the shark had not been his enemy. It was less elegant of a story however, and unlike most folk tales, there had not been a lesson taught to one of the characters through hardship.

Hearing Sensei’s version, I had no doubt whatsoever which was the more accurate of the two. At this realization, it suddenly sounded more like my brother was wishing that I might have my skin removed in a pool accident.

“But sharks can swim,” Kimura-sensei added, seeing my downfallen face. “And no one ever told you if you need to be a rabbit or a shark. Perhaps you can choose.”

I could not help but smile at this, and decided at that exact moment that regardless of my brother’s intention, I would keep using the omamori. In a way it was a perfect gift from him. Maybe there was even some aspect of a kind meaning to be found somewhere in the story, and either way I could interpret it however I liked.

As I reach down to my pillow tonight, however, a different idea crosses my mind. There will be plenty of other times I can use the White Hare of Inaba.

Instead, I pick up Uotate-senpai’s envelope and tuck it under my pillow. With a smile, I am asleep almost the instant I lie down.

-------    ------- -------    -------

I have been nervous all day. Unable to focus, unable to concentrate on my school work, and without a doubt unable to take my mind off the small bag sitting in my locker.

I left for school an extra fifteen minutes early and went to the drug store, just as Uotate-senpai had instructed. When I got inside, I opened the envelope he gave me and emptied its contents into my hand.

As I had guessed, there were two 500 yen coins in my palm, and a small, folded list. I placed the envelope and the money back into my pocket, then carefully unfolded the paper.

If anyone had been watching me, they would have undoubtedly seen my cheeks turn red. The list was not anything I had expected. It was only a few basic items, but somehow they made me feel a little bit strange and embarrassed.

Maybe it was just a weird club thing to have to go buy them. Maybe it was something Uotate-senpai needs but he wanted to include me as some part of a ritual or tradition for swimmers.

And those were the pleasant guesses and reasons that were running through my mind. My cousin is in the basketball club at his high school and he told me some of the things they did to first years. Some of the things were weird and even demeaning. I do not think Kimura-sensei would allow anything like that in our club, or that Senpai would partake, but it did nothing to stop my imagination from running wild.

When the final school bell finally rings, I am glad, because I simply cannot wait anymore. I walk quickly to my locker, grab my swimming bag, and go straight to the pool. Sometimes I would stop to talk to my friends or see if I can rustle up a snack from our cafeteria before I leave school, but today is not the day. I need to get to practice immediately and see what is happening.

But once I get to practice, there is no mention of the list or the items I bought. I am one of the first people at practice, and as I roll out our lane dividers with some of the other club members, no one says anything.

I talk with some of the other first years as we work and try to get them talking without being too direct, but none of them mention anything. Either they did not have to do what I did this morning, or they are sworn to secrecy by their own senpais.

When Uotate-senpai arrives, he simply says hello as he always does and then goes to change in the locker room. Kimura-sensei is the same way, and I am left to complete today’s practice with no answers.

Thankfully, practice is short. Some of the older boys who will be competing tomorrow only swim for fifteen or twenty minutes, and Senpai leaves the pool to stretch shortly after that. I swim at an easy pace and take a lot of breaks, so I swim for a bit longer, but do not tire myself out or expend too much energy.

As the last few swimmers are leaving the pool, I make my way to the ladder and begin to pull myself out. I am just reaching the top step of the ladder when Kimura-sensei calls out to me.

“Tanaka,” he says, “you look like you are not fully extending your left leg when you swim today. Are you injured?”

I flex my leg but do not feel any pain.

“I do not feel any injury,” I say, “but I was swimming more slowly than usual and perhaps my form was a bit off.”

Sensei nods and thinks for a moment.

“Uotate and I both noticed as we watched you swim your last few laps. It is probably because you are swimming slow, but I would like to get this corrected before tomorrow’s meet. Are you too tired to swim a few more laps?”

As I will not technically be competing tomorrow, I do not believe I actually have a choice in this. I nod my head to Sensei and drop back into the water.

As I do, I notice that someone is right behind me. It is Uotate-senpai. I did not even notice him enter the pool, but he and Sensei must have already discussed helping me with a few more laps.

“Thank you for doing this extra work,” Sensei says to us, then walks off toward the locker room, where I am sure he has another great football-inspired speech planned for the rest of the team.

Senpai nods to Sensei and then turns to me.

“We just want to make sure that your last lap today is done with the best form. Lie on your stomach like you are going to swim.”

I push a few feet away from the wall and float on my stomach. As I do, I feel Senpai’s hands grab around my hips, holding me in place.

“Take a few slow strokes,” he says.

I stretch my body forward and pull back with my hands while Senpai holds me in place. His grip on my hips is powerful and steady, and I feel strangely protected as I swim.

“Take a few breaths in stride,” he instructs.

I take a breath and swim a few more strokes, then take another. As soon as I finish my second breath, Senpai pulls my hips backwards and I stop paddling and stand up.

“You are not extending your left leg back after you breathe,” he says. “Think about stretching your body as far as you can each time, and focus on starting from that position after each breath.”

I nod and start swimming again, and again Senpai has his strong hands locked onto my hip bones. I swim a few strokes, then turn up to breathe. As soon as I am done I make sure to pull my legs back and my arms forward as far as I can. I repeat the cycle three more times before Senpai again pulls me back and I lift up my head.

“How was that?” I ask.

“Very good,” Senpai replies. “Now take two more laps, slowly, accentuating that same form you demonstrated. After two slow laps, if I have not stopped you, take one more at full speed.”

“Hai.”

I kick off the wall and start my first lap. After two or three breaths I do not even need to concentrate on my form any more. I am not sure why I was not extending my leg earlier, but this feels like my regular stroke, and I know that I will swim like this tomorrow.

I finish a lap and Uotate-senpai does not stop me, so I keep swimming, slowly but not quite as deliberately as before. Sensei was right to have me take the extra few minutes before the end of practice. Bad habits are hard to break, and it will be good to finish practice on the right foot.

For my third lap I kick up to my normal training speed and everything still feels right. Senpai is a good teacher for me, and I am grateful for the extra time and attention today.

When I finish my third lap I pull off my goggles to see Senpai nodding with approval from the side of the pool.

“You looked good,” he says, “and even better when you were swimming at speed.”

“Thank you for your help,” I tell him. “I know I can do well tomorrow.”

Senpai smiles at me and reaches his hand down to help me out of the pool. The strength of his grip reminds me on the feeling when his hands were on my hips during our training. So strong and sure, the power and certainty of them almost seems to radiate into my body.

“I told everyone that I would clean up the pool. Can you help me?”

I look around and see that we are the last two in the pool today. We begin to put away our equipment, and it feels good to work like this, hand in hand with someone I so respect and admire.

With only the two of us cleaning up, it takes almost fifteen minutes before we are finished, and by the time we are walking to the locker room there are only a few boys left. I say goodbye to a few of my friends as they are leaving and go to my usual shower area with Senpai just behind me.

I feel a rush of excitement as I realize that Senpai will be showering next to me again today. I am always impressed with his body, and I relish any opportunity I have to sneak a few glances at it. It is inspiring in a way, to see what I one day might become.

In the next instant, several things happen at once.

I am just setting down my bag on the bench closest to the showers, when I see Takahashi-senpai step away from his shower. Takahashi is one of the fittest boys on the team, so I cannot fight the urge to look at him as he turns toward me. And while I notice all the things I usually do - his strong shoulders, rippling chest, well-defined abdominal muscles - I also notice something far more interesting.

His body is completely shaved.

From his legs, to his armpits, and most noticeably his groin, there is no hair on Takahasi’s body, where yesterday it was abundant.

And that is when I suddenly understand what Uotate-senpai had me get at the store.

The list was short and simple:

- 2 disposable razors

- 2 small bars soap

- 1 can shaving cream

- 1 jar talc powder

Now it makes sense.

“Do you see why I had you get buy those things?”

Senpai must have seen the realization on my face when I saw Takahashi.

“Everyone on the team shaves before the matches. It helps us go faster.”

I think about Senpai and his body, and I cannot imagine him shaving it. It is one of the most distinctive features of him, part of what makes him seem so manly to me. The hair on his strong legs, the handful of strands on his broad chest, and the thick mound above his thick, powerful penis.

“Even you?” I ask. I have only seen him during periods of training, and never while matches are going on.

“Even me,” he responds. “But only for a match. Some of the older guys do it all the time, and several of the younger ones do not need to.”

He looks at me up and down before continuing.

“I noticed you yesterday in the shower. You are developing a lot, and you will need to shave. Your legs are starting to grow hair, and even…”

Senpai trail off but points down in the vicinity of my groin and I feel it twitch.

“Wait,” I say, as the reality of what is going to happen dawns on me. “We are going to do it right here? Right now?”

I can feel my face getting hot and Senpai laughs.

“My senpai helped me the first time I did it, and he showed me how. I will help you.”

I gulp down the lump that is sitting in my throat. Of course I want Senpai to show me. Spending time with him and learning from him is one of my favorite things. But in such a public place. This could be embarrassing.

“Do not worry,” Senpai says, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Takahashi is the last one still at practice. And because we ended early today no other clubs will come in for at least an hour. We will have time to do this without anyone else.”

Senpai squeezes my shoulder before continuing.

“We will have privacy.”

Again, it seems like Senpai is reading my mind. The whole situation is a little confusing and scary, but Uotate-senpai has never led me wrong. I like him and I trust him, and I know he will not do anything that would hurt me.

I nod.

Senpai smiles at me.

“We will start with a nice, hot shower.”

Uotate-senpai turns on both of our showers to allow the water to heat fully before we get in. I pull my Speedo off and set it on the bench next to my bag and towel. I turn to the shower and stand, stark naked, watching the steam rise off the almost scalding hot water.

And as I stand there, naked in the locker room with only my senpai, I realize that I have never felt more self conscious about my body.

I look down at myself. My skinny chest, thin legs, and sparse hair across my legs and groin make me feel like a child next to Uotate-senpai. I look over at him and cannot help but be amazed, as I always am.

I catch a glimpse just as he drops out of his practice suit and steps forward to join me in front of the shower.

His foot thrusts forwards and I can see the muscles of his leg flex and contort. Even the minuscule movement of a single footstep tells of the hours of training behind the size, shape, and tone of the musculature beneath the skin.

His thick member swings slightly with the movement, handing just in front of two full, gently hanging balls, ringed by a rich semicircle of coarse, dark hair. The muscles of his stomach flex and shift faintly in time with the extension of his leg.

And he steps with pride. The sureness of his step betrays the confidence of his skill and seniority. The movement of a leader, a young man that I am proud to follow.

All of this compared to me.

My body, so young and just barely beginning to show the signs of training and discipline. There is a man standing next to me, and I am merely a boy.

“Ready?” he asks.

He catches my eye before I pull it away from his body, but nothing in his gaze is reproachful. Instead he smiles somewhat knowingly.

I feel my cheeks get hot but do not truly feel embarrassed. It is only natural that I would look at his body, and his expression tells me that he understands this. His is the goal, the epitome, a sort of perfection that I can strive for as I train and develop. Why would I not take a moment to look it over and take it in?

And he said it himself. He was looking at me yesterday. His eyes were taking in the dimensions and aspects of my body, assessing, and in a sense, enjoying what they saw. It is part of our bond as senpai and kohai, that we should honestly evaluate each other, and in doing so push each other to work harder and perform with more intensity and passion.

I step forward with a renewed confidence into the shower. Senpai will not lead me wrongly.

The water is hot.

It burns my skin for a few seconds, but I will myself to stay under the water. It is hotter than I ever take a shower after a usual swimming practice. After a bit of time I adjust to the heat of the water and it starts to feel good. I close my eyes and step fully under the spigot, letting the water run over my face. Hot as it is, I like it.

I slowly become aware that Uotate has stepped close to me. Even without opening my eyes I can feel the closeness of his presence. I move my head out of the spray and turn to him.

“First,” he says, “you will need to wash yourself very well. It is easier to shave clean skin.”

He reaches down and touches my thigh with his fingertips, feeling some of the hair that has sprouted there in the last year. It is not much, but I am somewhat proud of it in a strange way.

“Make sure you get your legs.”

His fingers move upward and run across my stomach and chest. As they slide over my hip, I feel my chinchin jump slightly. I realize my heart is beating rapidly, and I am sure Senpai can feel it as his hand pauses on my chest. The sensation of his touch almost feel tingly, like a tiny bit of electricity is passing from his fingers into my body.

“I do not think you will need to do your chest,” he says, “but I will.” His gaze and hand drop back to my waist. “And you will certainly need to do here.”

He does not touch me, but when his fingers drop near my groin, I know I feel it twitch again. He is only centimeters away, and something inside me yearns for him to reach out and complete the connection. Perhaps it is merely the hot water and the excitement of what we are about to do, but I only want to be closer to Senpai.

He steps back under his own shower and grabs a bar of soap from where he set them earlier. He hands it over to me, and once again as our hands make contact I feel a small jolt of electric energy pass between us.

I step slightly to the side of the cascade of water coming from my shower and cover myself with a thick lather of soap. I start with my face and neck, and work my way down. I cover my arms and shoulders, then my chest and stomach.

Next I work my way up from the ground, washing my feet, calves, shins, over my knees, and up to my thighs. The sparse hair on my legs will be easy to shave, although I have never done it before. I am sure that Senpai will show me how.

Last of all, I move up to my groin. As I do so, I start to worry that I may be getting a little bit aroused. The more my soapy hands slide over it, the more certain I am that it is getting harder. I begin to worry what Senpai will think if I get fully hard while we are here together.

It does happen from time to time in the showers, as is unavoidable when you are with twenty teenage boys every single day after practice, but no one speaks of it. It is seen as natural, and nothing to be ashamed of, but nothing to be discussed or shown off.

But here and now, it is just the two of us. Something like that would be so obvious, and given the intimacy of the moment, it would probably be impossible to avoid mentioning it. I know that Senpai would not do anything to make me feel bad, but I do not want to create an awkward situation for him.

I look over at Uotate-senpai to try and gauge what he might be thinking, and immediately regret doing so. He is at the same stage in his washing process as I am, and only a short glance reveals that he is experiencing the same reactions in his body that I am. While this assuages my fears of being awkward by getting half hard in the showers with him, it does nothing to stem the flow of blood that rushes into my penis.

I turn around to face away from him, now worried that I will become fully hard. I try to erase the image from my mind, but it is not possible. Senpai’s penis, already thick and manly as it is, has swollen to a greater size and length. Now it is clearly bigger than mine, and perhaps even the biggest I have seen on the team. Even only being part of the way hard, it is so powerful and impressive, hanging fatly in front of his full, round balls.

“I can wash your back if you like.”

I gasp at the sound of Uotate’s voice right behind me. I imagine his cock only half a meter away from me and approaching closer with every moment. If he washes my back it will be right there, almost touching me…

Senpai’s hand comes to rest lightly on my shoulder, and he begins to work the soap onto my skin. I force myself to continue breathing. He is so close to me.

I look down and see that I am fully hard now, my cock sticking straight out and throbbing lightly in time with the beating of my heart. It is nowhere near as large as Senpai’s, but the twelve centimeters are nothing I will be able to hide when I turn around.

Senpai’s hands are slowly working their way downward. They pass over my shoulder blades, then across the middle, and finally into the small of my back. He works in rhythmic, circular motions, fully covering my rear half with soap. They stop just short of my butt, only just making contact with the top of each cheek.

“It is done,” says Senpai. “Go ahead and rinse off.”

I feel another wave of nervous energy course through my body. When I turn into the shower to rinse my back, my erection will be on full display for Senpai to see. So instead, I simply step into the shower sideways, figuring that there will be enough water to complete my rinse without exposing myself to embarrassment.

“Rinse your whole back,” says Senpai.

I do not turn away from the shower, but keep standing where I am.

“You still have soap on your back,” he repeats. “Finish rinsing and then you can help wash mine.”

I hesitate for another moment, but I can tell that I have no other option. I need to turn to face away from the flow of water. I push my hands over my erection, pushing it down and covering it as best I can, then turn ninety degrees.

“Good. Now you can wash my back.”

Senpai is facing me, and he must see my predicament. I keep my hands in place and wait for him to turn away from me. I turn to look at him and his hand is outstretched toward me, handing me the soap. If I take it from him I will have no way to hide my shame. I turn back to face the row of lockers in front of me.

“Here,” he says, thrusting it closer to me. “Take the soap so you can wash my back.”

I do not budge, and Senpai turns his head slightly to the side, a habit he has when he is trying to understand something.

“Please, take it.”

Slowly and carefully, I remove one of my hands and hold it toward him, the other hand still shielding his view from my groin as best I can. As I release, I feel my penis spring up, almost slapping against my stomach. It is so hard right now, I do not think there is anything I can do to hide my arousal.

But Uotate-senpai does not hand me the soap. Instead, he takes a small step toward me.

“I see,” he says lightly. “You got hard while you were washing.”

I jerk my hand back down to cover up, but my penis is even harder than before, and it is even more difficult to push it down out of sight.

“Wait,” Senpai says, placing a hand on my arm, “you do not need to hide it.”

My breath catches in my throat and I cannot tell if my heart is pounding harder inside my head or in my chinchin.

With Senpai lightly pulling me, I release my grip and move my hands away, revealing what has to be the hardest erection I have ever had. It must be some combination of the hot water, the intensity of the situation, and the fact that Senpai is standing, himself half hard, just a few centimeters away from me.

“Wow,” he says, “you are very hard.”

I nod slightly and turn to look at him, sure that my cheeks must be the color of a maple leaf in the autumn.

Senpai is smiling, calmly and reassuringly. He does not look mad or embarrassed, or even worse - ashamed of me.

“Tanaka-kun,” he asks, “do you ever masturbate?”

I slowly shake my head.

“No, but I have heard about it.”

I know what it is, but I have not done it. Many of the boys at school talk about it, and I know it has something to do with touching your penis until it gets hard, and then making some sort of pee come out when it feels good.

I do not know the specifics, but I do know that my understanding of it is rudimentary at best, so I do not share any of this with Senpai.

“Sometimes it can be good to do it,” he says. “It can be hard to focus when you are like this. And it may be hard for us to shave.”

I nod in understanding. He is right. It will not be easy to focus or shave in my current state.

But as I look down at my inkei, I am not sure how to begin. I do not know what to do.

“Let me show you how.”

I take a moment to reflect on how strange this situation is. My senpai is naked with me in the showers, and showing me not only how to shave my body appropriately for our swim meet, but also how to masturbate.

It is strange, but I like it. This is exactly what it means to have a senpai. Someone who can show you the things you do not know, and help you advance, both in matters of the swimming team, and other matters. I am happy that Senpai is showing me.

Uotate-senpai turns to me and reaches his right hand to his own penis, still thickly swollen but nowhere near the state of my own.

“First you need to get hard. And to do that, you just think of something sexy and start touching yourself, like this.”

Senpai begins running his hand back and forth along his shaft, slowly but purposefully. As he does so, I am in awe as I watch his penis get harder and bigger, eventually filling his hand and then some.

I feel a tingle in my own rock hard member as I watch him, noticing that he is looking at me the whole time he is stroking. Even at his direction to think of something sexy, Senpai is one hundred percent focused on me.

“After it is hard, take your hand and stroke it back and forth, like this.”

He is now moving up and down along his length, rhythmically moving back and forth in a practiced motion.

I reach down to my own throbbing rod and try to imitate him. It feels good, but strange. Every time I get to the bottom of my stroke I can feel the pressure pulling hard on the tip.

“You might need to pull back the skin at the end,” says Senpai. “Watch me and I can show you.”

He comes to the tip and then seems to pull a little bit harder. As he pushes down I see his foreskin slide down farther and farther, until finally the bright red head of his penis comes free. He slides his hand back up and covers it again, then repeats the motion.

I keep stroking lightly as I look back at Senpai’s amazing member, completely mesmerized at the manly, flared head of his penis being rhythmically revealed and hidden with the motion of his hand. The lines defining it are so strong, so powerful looking. I wish I could have a closer look.

“Are you able to do it?” Senpai asks, snapping me out of my brief hypnosis.

I look back down at myself and try to imitate his motion. I start at the tip and try to pull down harder, but it feels strange. I have never pulled the foreskin down while I am hard, especially while I am this hard, and I think it might hurt if I try it. It feels tight, like it will not go even if I pull more firmly.

I look back up at Senpai and shake my head. I feel my penis twitch hard seeing his eyes locked on my dick as I move my hand back and forth. I want to do this for him, but I am not sure that I can.

Senpai moves closer to me and then hesitates, as though he is not sure what to do next. I meet his eyes and give a slight nod. I trust him. He is my senpai. I know that he is going to do the right thing to teach me how to do this.

“Let me help you.”

The change of verb is striking. He has said several times that he will show me. But now he has said that he will help me. He will take action to assist me. It is hard to explain why this is so impactful to me, but I feel an instant change in the situation. Senpai is going to do something to me, to help me.

“Keep going,” he says.

I continue to stroke lightly up and down, while Senpai steps behind me. I feel his penis touch the small of my back as he steps into the space behind my body. His arm comes around me and he slides his hand along my forearm until it passes my wrist and comes to rest on top of my hand, slowly moving along in the same rhythm as my own.

“Grip it a little lighter,” he says, “and let your hand slide along with it.”

I loosen my grip and let the skin on my penis slip through my grip a bit as I move my hand. It feels better than it did before, almost like it extends the duration of each stroke, and prolongs the good sensations each time.

But it also feels good, in a strange way, that Senpai’s hand is with mine. His hand is larger, and I can barely feel his hand directly touching my penis around the edges of my own. It feels different, but I like it. It adds a sort of confidence to the motion and feelings as I masturbate.

“Now grip a little harder at the top as you start to pull down. Then start doing the same at the bottom. But release your grip each time, and move lightly between the two each time you do it.”

With Senpai’s hand guiding me, I start adding force each time I pull down. Once I have that, we start adding a bit of force each time I start to pull up.

Each time I do it I can feel that same pressure on my foreskin pulling over the crown of my karikubi. But it feels different this time. It is not a painful sensation, just a little bit of pressure each time. And the pressure kind of feels good.

It gets stronger and stronger, until suddenly my foreskin pulls down, uncovering the soft, fleshy tip of my penis. The hot water, along with the movement of my hand makes the tip burn for a second, as it is so sensitive. But then we pull upward from the base of my penis with some force, and it covers it up again.

I go back and forth with Senpai a few more times, and it feels better and better. The head is so sensitive, but alternating between covering and uncovering is creating a burning sensation in my loins that is making me dizzy.

“Senpai,” I whisper, “I feel…”

He laughs a little and starts moving our hands faster.

“You are getting close.”

“Close to what-” I start to ask, but suddenly I feel the burning sensation spread through my body.

It starts in the tip of my penis and spreads back into it, down the shaft, into the base, and then into my testicles. My penis gets harder and harder, as though it is going to burst.

The sensation pushes back from there into my butt and stomach, an intensely pleasurable burning, erasing any thoughts from my mind except those of pleasure.

I cry out as the burning reaches a climax and then suddenly stops, leaving a numbing afterglow of tingling in most of my body in its absence. Then my penis twitches back to life, jerking hard in my hand six times before stopping.

Senpai holds me the whole time, tightening his grip slightly as he feels my body stiffen. It feels good to be in his arms, and it is good that he had a hold on me, as I may have fallen down if he had not.

“What happened?” I ask breathlessly when I can find the clarity to form a sentence.

“You came,” he says.”

“Came?”

Senpai releases me and turns me around so I am facing him.

“You masturbated until you came, and now your penis will get soft again.”

He looks down, and I see that he is right. With each beat of my heart I can see it deflating back to its usual state.

“See?” he says, reaching down and touching his fingers to the tip of my member. “You made it come out.”

He holds his fingertips in front of me and I see something pale and sticky-looking on his fingers.

“What is it?” I ask. I want to reach out and touch some, but it feels dirty.

“It is your cum,” he says. “You only made a little now. But the more you grow up, the more you will make.”

“Cum,” I repeat, tasting the word in my mouth. I have heard of something like this, but I did not know how it all fit together. You masturbate until you are hard, then you start to feel good, then you can make cum. And now I have done it.

“Do you make a lot of cum?” I ask.

Senpai laughs. “Sometimes,” he says. “It is a little different every time. I make more than you, but I am older.”

I look down at Senpai and see that he is still hard.

“Did you make any this time?” I ask.

Senpai shakes his head.

“I was helping you.”

Looking at Senpai’s penis, I wish I could watch it come. He is so much more mature than I am. So much bigger, thicker, manlier. I imagine he makes a lot of cum.

“Are you going to?” I ask.

Senpai returns a look I have seen many times. It is a look he uses when he is trying to teach me something, or show me a technique at swimming practice. I would call it his ‘Senpai Look.’

“Don’t you want to feel good?” I ask.

His look intensifies.

“We need to get you shaved for the meet tomorrow,” he says.

He is right. That is the whole reason we are here. Senpai is going to show me how to shave for our swim meet. This, while it felt good, was only part of that process. I got hard, and to help alleviate that, Senpai showed me how to masturbate. Now we can proceed.

As usual, Uotate-senpai was right. It is already helping me focus better.

The nervous, sexual haze that had clouded my mind for the last ten minutes or so seems to be clearing, and I am ready to get back to the task at hand. I was intoxicated by the heat of the showers, the excitement of trying something new, and the closeness of Senpai. But now it is fading.

“Turn off the water.”

I shut it off as commanded and when I turn around Senpai has pulled out the shaving cream and one of the razors from the bag I brought. I step toward him and he holds up his hand, motioning me to stop where I am.

Uotate-senpai steps in front of me, then kneels down. He puts his hand on my shin and feels the light coating of hair on my wet leg.

“We will need to shave this,” he says.

Senpai dispenses a large amount of shaving cream onto his hand, and then begins to rub it onto my leg. He starts at the bottom, and continues all the way up to nearly my hip, where a few hairs have just recently started to sprout. Once he finishes one leg, he repeats the process with the other.

“Once you have applied the shaving cream,” he says, ‘then you lightly use the razor, slowly and carefully.”

He holds the razor up to my hip and pulls it down through the shaving cream. It feels strange on my body. I can feel the razor scraping against my skin but it does not hurt or feel bad. Almost like an especially wide fingernail is being dragged slowly across my skin.

As Senpai shaves down I can see where the shaving cream has been removed, and the few hairs that had previously been in that spot are gone. After taking a few more strokes with the razor and clearing the top half of my thigh, Senpai stops and holds up the razor.

“After some time, the hair will be in the razor and it will not shave well anymore.”

I look down and see a few hairs jutting out of the layer of shaving cream on the razor blade.

“You simply dip the blade into some water to clean it off.

Senpai dips the razor into a cup of water next to my feet and flicks it through the liquid a few times. When he pulls it out, he holds it up for me to look at again. The twin blades of the razor are clean and free of hair, just like he said.

“I will finish this leg, and then you can do the other,” says Senpai.

After a few minutes he hands me the razor then sits back on the floor, giving me a bit of space to work but watching me closely as I begin.

It is different shaving myself, but it only takes a small bit of practice before I am comfortable. I start moving faster, getting the top half of my leg done in no time.

“Let the shaving cream guide you,” he says as I start to move down onto my knee, “and once you have shaved it all off, you know that you are done.”

I am moving almost as fast as Senpai did when he was shaving me. Senpai was right. It is not that difficult to do. You just follow the shaving cream and continue working your way down.

“Itai!” I cry out.

I see a small speck of blood on the edge of my knee cap.

“You need to be careful,” says Senpai. “If you move too quickly you can nick yourself with the razor.”

He looks up at me.

“Is is not a deep cut, but it may bleed a little bit, and it will hurt for a second.”

I look at the cut and already the pain is fading. It was so sharp at first, but it does not look very deep.

“Be more careful as you continue,” says Senpai, grabbing my hand that is holding the razor to guide it back to my leg.

I feel strange now holding the razor in my hand, just seconds after cutting myself. I have lost the confidence that I had earlier, and now I know that I can cut myself if I am not cautious.

“Just go slowly,” he says.

I put the razor back to my skin and nothing happens. I move it slightly and get only the sensation of scraping the shaving cream off my leg like before.

I shave a section and move past my knee. It is ok. I just need to be careful and work slowly.

I finish my leg, rinse off the razor and see that the small cut on my knee has stopped bleeding. Only a drop or two had come out at all.

“Good work,” says Senpai. “Turn around so I can make sure you got everything.

I turn my back to him and he takes the razor from me. I feel it move along one small portion of my leg, near the back of my knee.

“You are done with your legs. There is only one spot left.”

I feel my stomach clench as I think about that one last area. The handful of hairs just above the base of my penis are the last ones left on my body.

I was somewhat proud of them over the last few months as they have started to grow, the first visible sign that I am truly becoming a man. I was one of the first boys in my year to have them, at least of the ones I had seen in gym class and at swimming club. Now, however, I need to shave them off.

I turn back to face Uotate-senpai and he is holding out the razor and shaving cream expectantly. I dispense a small amount of cream onto my finger and rub it lightly over my pubic area. After I have made a thick, even application, I take the razor.

I move it toward my body but stop before it makes contact. In my vision past my groin I can see my leg and the small spot of blood, coagulated on the skin. The images come together, and my hand freezes.

“I…”

Senpai looks up at me with a questioning look.

“What is the matter?” he asks.

What if my hand slips while I am shaving? Getting a small cut on my leg is one thing, but this close to my penis, it is very different.

Answering his question without words, I hold the razor out to Senpai. He has done this before, and I trust him more than I even trust myself in this case.

He smiles knowingly and takes the razor from me.

“It can be scary to use a razor here,” he says, “but you will do fine if you try.”

I shake my head.

“Please, Senpai.”

He nods and moves in closely toward my groin.

The movement returns many of the sensations and feeling from earlier. Senpai is only centimeters away from my penis, and he is about to shave my pubic hair. It is so close and intimate. A young man that I admire and respect is coming this close to me.

I feel the blood returning to my groin as Senpai puts a hand on my thigh to steady himself. The razor connects with my skin at the edge of the shaving cream, just below my belly button, and moves slowly downward. He moves a few centimeters to the side and moves down again.

He finishes the upper arc, only leaving the shaving cream immediately next to and on the very base of my penis. My penis, which is steadily inflating back to most of its peak size. There is no hiding it, Senpai is only centimeters away, and I am in full view.

Senpai looks up at me, without a trace of reproach in his eyes.

“I need to-”

“Please, go ahead.”

He nods to me and then returns his attention to the area just below my waist. He removes his hand from my hip and places it onto my penis.

A surge of blood causes it to twitch at the contact, and it gets harder.

Senpai takes the first stroke with the razor, down the last bit of my pubic area and carefully onto the first bit of my member. He repeats the motion a few times, moving to the right as he goes. As he reaches the far right side, he gently pulls my penis to the left, exposing the side of the base so he can shave it.

At this point he is more directing than holding my penis, as I am fully erect in his hand. He repeats the process on the left side, then releases me, standing fully at attention just in front of his face.

I expect him to step away, but instead he reaches forward and slips his fingers under my scrotum, pulling forward with his fingertips before letting go.

“You do not need to shave down there yet,” he says, “but perhaps soon.”

I swallow hard and step back from Senpai. I do not mind him touching me like that. In fact, it is odd to say that I feel the opposite. But even so, his fingertips brushing against the bottom of my testicles was almost more than I could handle. I felt some of the same tingling that I felt earlier, just before I came.

“Rinse yourself and we can check to make sure you are all done.”

I step back into the shower and within seconds the remaining shaving cream is washed completely off my body. I turn around in the shower one more time just to be sure and then I step out for my final inspection.

Senpai has taken out the other razor and refilled his cup of water. He is ready to begin, but sets down his items, steps in front of me, and kneels down.

He runs a hand up and down one of my legs and then the other. The skin feels extra sensitive, and his touch sends interesting sensations through my body as he moves his hands.

And then he runs his finger across my pubic area, barely touching my erection as they move by. The sensations are even stronger there, but I try not to think about it.

“You are all done,” Senpai says as he stands up. “You are ready for the meet tomorrow.”

I nod deeply.

“Thank you for always helping me,” I say.

Senpai smiles proudly at me and looks me up and down. I notice that his glance lingers a half a moment longer than it needs to on the area just below my waist.

“You have a lot of energy,” says Uotate-senpai. His tone is one of pride. “I was like that too when my Senpai showed me how to do this.”

His comment washes over me and I feel a wave a gratitude along with it. Senpai always knows what to say to make me feel comfortable when I am self conscious. Whether it is about my swimming, training, or how I am feeling about some part of our team dynamics.

And now twice I have gotten hard while we are in the shower together, and Senpai has responded only with acceptance and understanding, never doing anything to make me embarrassed or to scold me. And now, there is ownership in his voice. A sense that he is proud of me, in all aspects of what we are doing together.

I feel my cheeks getting hot again, and my eyes feel watery. I am glad I am in the shower again, or perhaps he might notice that I am becoming overwhelmed with my feelings.

How have I gotten so lucky to have such a perfect Senpai?

And how can I show him my gratitude?

“Please let me help Senpai.”

He looks hard at me, frowning slightly. He seems to be contemplating my sudden outburst. After all he has shown me, I do not expect any reproach, but perhaps he does not understand what I mean.

“Let me help Senpai like he helped me. Let me help shave Senpai.”

After another moment of thought, his expression warms.

“Are you sure?” he asks. “You are ready to dry yourself and go home. You do not need to stay.”

I nod my head. I want to help Senpai.

He hands me the shaving cream and the razor, and I grab one in each hand.

“It will be a bit harder, since I have more hair. You should start with my legs, but carefully.”

I nod and kneel down in front of Senpai’s naked body.

I have never been this close to him before. Perhaps physically our bodies have been this close, but the context is quite different. I am merely a handspan away from Senpai’s wet, naked body, and he has invited me to shave him. To touch his body and assist him with something very familiar, and very personal.

I spray a large dollop of shaving cream into my hand then set down the can and the razor. I spread the cream between my hands, then reach up to Senpai’s right legs, and begin applying it to his skin.

As I push down his leg I feel the ropes of thick, solid muscle beneath his skin, the product of years of diligent training. I move along his quadriceps over his knee, then down his shin, letting my fingertips trace the shape of his lean, hard calves as I go.

I cannot help but compare the size and shape of Senpai’s leg muscles against my own as I feel them. The muscles are so defined, so dense, and so powerful. I let my hands linger as I finish, savoring the impressive feeling.

I pick up the razor and press ti to his skin just below his hip, just as he did for me. I take a deep breath and try to focus. I nicked my leg when I was shaving, and I must not be so careless when working on Senpai. I take another second to steady my nerves.

A light pressure on my shoulder causes me to look up. Senpai nods down to me and removes his hand. I am ready to begin.

I am surprised how much easier it is to wield a razor on someone else’s body. Uotate-senpai was correct in that he has more hair on his legs than I do, which makes for more pauses to clean the razor. But I am at a better angle shaving Senpai’s legs than my own, and I can see so much more as I am closer and directly in front of my target. After only a few strokes of the blade I am more confident than I was before.

I make short work of his leg, and besides the remnants of shaving cream, it looks to be completely smooth, front and back. I put more lather into my hand, and within a few minutes I have finished the other leg as well. Now, all that remains is…

I have been willing myself not to look at it.

From the moment I kneeled down, I have been close to it. Just in front of my face, I would only need to reach out to touch it.

And there it is.

Senpai’s cock.

I have always been impressed with it, and have often stolen glances during showers, or while it is snugly encased in his swimsuit at practice. But I have never been this close to it, and certainly not while it is fully uncovered and without a need for averting, or at least pretending to avert my gaze.

But now, it is here, directly in front of me.

And it is bigger than usual. It is not fully hard, but it is more swollen and plumper than usual, still somewhat aroused from earlier.

While I was able to relieve my erection, Senpai was not. And while I have gotten fully hard again, Senpai is still in a state of semi arousal, and I can only imagine that it is drawing on his attention, the longer he goes without relief.

I am not only able to look at it, but I am about to touch it, just like he touched mine. I will need to move it out of the way when I shave around the base, and I am simply not sure if I am ready.

But as I am only moments away from doing so, I realize that I have always wanted to. While I have accepted in my conscious thoughts that I admire it, and am fascinated by it, I have always wanted more. To feel it in my hands, to experience that which I find most manly, and most impressive about Senpai’s body and physique.

It is time.

I squeeze a small amount of shaving cream into my hand and create a lather. I reach out and barely touch my fingertips into the dense bush of black hair just about Senpai’s groin.

It moves.

As my fingers make contact, I see Senpai’s thick rope of a penis twitch slightly.

I begin to massage the shaving cream into his pubic hair, but I cannot take my eyes from his member. I can see it pulse with the beating of Senpai’s heart, and the motion is mesmerizing. I can feel the same thing happening in my own body and for a brief half of a second, the two rhythms become one.

My concentration breaks and I remind myself to focus on the task at hand. I need to finish shaving Senpai.

I place my hand on his upper thigh to steady myself, just like he did. I bring up the razor, slowly and carefully. I shave the first line.

The razor almost instantly stops, caught in the hair I am trying to shave through. I clean off the head and try again. I remove a little more hair and repeat the process. Senpai was correct, I will need to be careful and take my time with this part.

I shave around the outside border of Senpai’s pubic hair, leaving only a tight semicircle of black hair remaining, fully covered in a layer of shaving cream.

This is the pivotal moment.

To continue, I will need to move Senpai’s penis out of the way as I go, pulling it to the opposite side so I can easily reach the hair all the way to the base. I will need to touch his penis.

I think about everything that has happened today. Most importantly I think about how Senpai has guided me, calmly and supportively, through the entire process. He has never rebuked me, or made me feel foolish for not knowing what to do, or for asking questions that must seem simple for other people.

He has been with me the whole way, offering nothing but his genuine, caring assistance.

And now I can repay, at least in part, some of what he did for me. He did not hesitate to touch me when he was shaving me, and I can do the same for him. It is beyond what I am comfortable doing, but it is something I want to do, and want to be confident enough to do.

And so I reach out with my left hand, and grab Uotate-senpai’s penis.

It is hot to the touch, and feels soft but solid at the same time. It is every bit as thick and weighty as it looks, and I instantly compare it my own as I get a feel for it.

It is unlike mine, because it is a man’s penis. Fully grown and erotic, potent and powerful.

And as I hold it in my hand, shaving carefully along the opposite side of its base, I feel it growing.

It starts slowly at first, but I begin to notice it swelling even further, and beginning to straighten in my hand.

I do not find it odd. Mine did the same thing as Senpai was shaving me. And it has seemed to be on the verge for the last few moments, ever since he showed me how to touch myself. It must have a lot of tension built up inside it, demanding release, even more so than my own.

By the time I have finished with my razor, it is fully erect. But unlike last time it was fully erect, it is also in my hand.

I like the way it feels, and I do not want to stop holding it, even though my task is complete. It makes me feel powerful just like Senpai as I hold it. It is like we are sharing it, and sharing the manliness that is emanating from it.

I suddenly remember what Senpai did when he was shaving me, and I reach my free hand down underneath his erection, letting my fingertips gently graze the underside of his testicles. But unlike when he did it, I feel a few coarse hairs underneath.

“Senpai.”

My voice comes out in a croak, strained at the nervousness I feel at what I am doing, and what I am about to say.

“We will need to shave down here.”

I look up at him, and our eyes meet. My face only centimeters away from his erect penis, looking up into his eyes.

He nods.

His expression has changed a bit. He does not have the look he usually does. He looks a bit different, a bit flushed, as though he might be out of breath.

I believe I know that feeling as well. I felt it too, earlier. It is hard to focus when you have a erection like this.

I take a final bit of shaving cream onto my hand and gently rub it into the sensitive skin of his scrotum. I take my time, moving slowly and cautiously. Above, his penis throbs lightly in time with the beating of his heart.

I take the razor and carefully lift his penis upward toward his tight stomach, to fully expose his sack. With a gentle stroke of the razor, I remove the hair from a section of the skin.

Senpai shudders lightly from the contact, but not as if he is in pain. More as if a light jolt of electricity has gone through his body.

Again, it is something I felt earlier, so I know how Senpai must be feeling. I continue.

It only takes a moment more, but when I am finished, I am confident that Senpai is completely hairless. Just as he did earlier, I bid him to rinse in the shower.

“Please rinse yourself,” I say. “And I will make sure that nothing was missed.

He steps back into the water for a moment, and I set aside the razor and shaving cream, but remain on my knees. I am almost sure that I will not be needing them again.

When he returns, I make a ring around his ankle with my hands, just as he did to me. As I slide up his leg, my hands cannot maintain their connection, as his legs are thicker than mine. I reach his upper thigh, and satisfied with one leg I check the other in the same fashion.

Then I move on to the final area. Senpai’s erection has not subsided, and I wonder if it is harder to have it recede after being made hard for the second time.

As I run my hands lightly over his smooth, clean skin, I admire the way it stands up, away from his body, so forcefully jutting toward my face. It looks even bigger without hair, and I find my mind filled again with the images of what it must look like to see it come. It must be incredible to see, something so impressive doing something so masculine.

While Senpai stopped after feeling my pubis, I let my hands continue. He had more hair than me, and I want to make sure that I fully completed my work. I run my hand along the length of his shaft, letting the fingertips check for any last remaining hairs. I do not feel any.

After that, I slide one hand down to his innou, and feel that as well. While shaving Senpai did diminish some of the grown up look that he had, his skin feels so soft and smooth. It feels good in my hands.

I do not remove my hands. I simply let them stay where they are, resting firmly on Senpai’s incredible penis, and big, full balls.

I want to see him come.

“Senpai,” I say again, just as I did before when I asked to shave him, “I will make you feel good.”

When I look up at him this time, I see even more of the look I saw earlier. Less confident, less like an elder, teaching me. More breathless, more flushed.

He does not answer, but I move my hand lightly up and down, in a slow, deliberate imitation of the motion he showed me to masturbate. He does not answer, but I feel his penis throb heavily in my hand.

While it would be easier to stand behind him like he did for me, I want to be closer. I want to see him up close.

And I am close. My face is only ten centimeters away from the tip of his penis, sticking out directly toward me. I want to be right here, exactly where I am.

I slide my hand up to the end of his steely rod, and then slide it back. The skin moves with my hand, and pulls his head free of his foreskin, much more easily than my own did.

If his member looked manly and erotic earlier, it looks one hundred times that now. The well defined ridges of his hard head flare out magnificently. He is truly a man, and his perfect penis is the incontrovertible proof of that.

As I see his head emerge, I feel the need to be closer. I am seeing Senpai so clearly and deeply with my eyes, but I want to experience it more. I want to be even closer than that. To make Senpai feel good, and to strengthen the bond between us, to fully appreciate Senpai’s sexual potency.

And something comes over me. It tells me what to do. And I listen to this voice, or force that rises inside me. I am not sure how the idea comes to me, but before I know what I am doing, I do it.

I lean forward, open my mouth, and wrap my lips around the head of Senpai’s cock.

It fills my mouth, so completely and perfectly. It fills the whole thing, and sits heavily on my lips and tongue. The ridges and shape of the head rest on my tongue, and complete the sensation I felt when I saw it. I am truly experiencing the masculine power of Senpai.

And it is apparent that he is feeling something as well.

I continue to run my hand up and down his length as I let the end of his penis sit in my mouth. I imagine it must feel good, as I feel it twitch a few times against my lips as I do so.

“Move back and forth.”

Looking up, I see that Senpai’s eyes are closed. He moans lightly, and I am intrigued by the duality of him in this moment. He seems weak to my ministrations, breathing hard, flushed, and sighing weakly. But it is only more manly that he does so. It is a strange sharing of power. I am weakening him, but it is only because of his power over me that I can do so.

“Use you mouth to move back and forth.”

I understand what he means now. I match the timing of my hand with my mouth, and start to move back and forth like he said. Slowly at first, but after a short time I find myself moving faster, and taking a greater range of motion, getting deeper along his shaft before pulling off almost all the way and starting the process again.

And the harder I start to move, and the more of Senpai I feel slide into my mouth, the more I like it. I am closer to him, and making him feel good. I like that I am doing something for Senpai, and like that he is feeling as good as he made me feel earlier.

I am feeling good too. I reach down with my other hand and begin stroking my own rock hard penis, moving in the same rhythm. I am even harder than I was earlier, and almost immediately I begin to feel the tingling sensation rise through my loins and start to spread into the rest of my body.

And as I feel my own sensations take over my body with a wave of unstoppable pleasure, Senpai places his hand on the hand of my head and pulls me forward.

He plunges deeper into my mouth than he has been, and I feel the swollen head of his penis hit the back of my throat. As it does, I feel it swell, the entire thing getting fatter and firmer against my lips and tongue.

He is coming.

While I briefly think about letting him do so exactly where he is, I still want to see it. I love everything about Senpai’s big, thick cock, and I want to see it come.

I pull my head away just in time. Within a half second, a thick, ropey jet of his liquid comes shooting out, straight across my lips and chin.

I watch in awe as he shoots a second string, even bigger than the first. Then another, and another.

It is even better than I imagined. The ultimate way that Senpai is older and more mature than I am. His rich, virile load spurting out across my mouth and chin, then onto my chest, and eventually onto the floor of the locker room.

My own penis is doing the same in my hand, to a lesser degree. But I can tell it is more, and harder than the first time. Even so, it is nothing compared to Uotate-senpai.

As we finish together, Senpai steps back and leans against the wall of the shower. The water washes over him and I am again struck by the perfection of his well-built body. It looks even better with his breath coming in ragged spurts. His eyes are still closed, so I take one last good look at him, committing this to memory. I will see him naked many more times, but perhaps never quite like this.

I stand up and move toward him.

“Did I-”

I stop my question as he opens his eyes. They pierce into me.

“Yes.”

He pulls me into himself, embracing me. Our bodies press against each other, lubricated by the hot water of the shower.

“You made Senpai feel very good.”

It feels nice. Our bodies this close, our smooth skin feeling every contour and muscle of each other’s bodies. We are closer than ever before.

Me and Senpai.

Our training together has been good for us.