Recent Blog: I SPY CAMELTOE ISPYCAMELTOE.COM called out, "this thing does not fit me right." Mrs. M., short for some long eastern European name that had a bunch of consonants and no vowels, was the team mom. In order to be the team mom, she had to be on the pushy side; otherwise she would never have been able to get anything done. So before I knew it, she had walked in the locker room, "Let me see, maybe you just need the next size."
She stopped short once she got an eyeful. It was of no use trying to cover up now, since the damage was done, so I just stood there and said, "See."
She just stood there, gawking for about 10 seconds. Finally she realized what she was doing; blushed, mumbled as quick "Sorry", and made a hasty retreat out of the same door she entered.
For a quick second, I was sort of proud, but then the realization set in that she was one of the women that I would have to face on a daily basis. I began to feel the embarrassment of it all overtake me. I speedily changed back into my trunks, which hid what needed to be hidden very effectively, and walked back out. If I hadn't been embarrassed before, I was now. In the corner Mrs. M. was in a huddle with a group of other women, talking in that hushed voice that women who are telling secrets use, and looking over there shoulder at the locker room door. When they saw me, they stopped, straightened themselves up and separated.
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