Becoming an Enthusiast - All Chapters

[ReservedEnthusiast]

Hello, everybody!

Becoming an Enthusiast became a much longer story than I had originally intended. So, for the sake of easier reading, I am collecting all the chapters and posting them again in this thread. I can guarantee that they are exactly as they appeared originally. There is no difference between the installments here and the previous threads, so don't feel like you might miss a detail or two reading these rather than the other posts. Of course, if I come across a typo or something, I will correct it.

I will also remind you once again that this story is true in its entirety and is not embellished or exaggerated in any way!

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Chapter 01 Part 1
First Exposure

I first saw a speedo when I was about 9 or 10. I was at my grandparents’ community’s swimming pool and it was a 70-ish-year-old man wearing some loose-fitting black Speedo briefs. Being a pre-prepubescent kid, it was obviously the most revolting thing I’d ever seen in my entire life, and I shared that fact with my dad. Dad was actually perfectly fine with it, come to think of it. (I suppose my dad is pro-speedo, even though he’s never worn one in front of me?) Since then, I’ve grown to realize that it actually wasn’t that bad or disgusting at all (shoutout to the mature users on the board!); it was just my immature 9-year-old self.

And then, my two closest childhood friends (a brother and sister, the sister being my age) joined the swim team at a posh country club, so at age 10 I was going to meets and practices with them. I gradually got used to tight-fitting swimwear, but I still didn’t really think much of it then.

But the interest didn’t really start until about 2 years later in middle school when I first started feeling sexual arousal, and then the wonderful world of Google opened up the possibility to see what men’s fashion was out there. While underwear was my first obsession and interest (especially briefs), I soon became fixated with men’s swimwear as it could be very revealing and puts your *ahem* gentleman’s area on display.

Fortunately (I guess?), this was about the time of the 2008 olympics, so the internet was flooded with photos of Tony Azevedo, Michael Phelps, Ryan Lochte, etc. Their sculpted bodies perfectly accentuated by their swim briefs were so attractive to me due to the combination of just oozing attractiveness and desperately wanting to be as sexy as they are. (I had been overweight since first grade and teased for it regularly.) My goodness, they were so hot. Many, many nuts were busted after school looking at photos of fit men in speedos…

High school, though, was where my very minor obsession solidified.

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Chapter 01 Part 2
High School

In high school, I was suddenly exposed to this weird new sport called “water polo” (horses in water, what?). My high school had a great team that regularly competed in state competitions and stuff. I don’t know the specifics of it or how exactly to say what level they were at (I’m sure there are many former/current polo players on here that would know), but basically they were really flippin’ good. So, the water polo team was very visible on campus, especially since they blew the other teams out of the water as far as victories go. They were very open to teasing each other about how good they look in speedos or how pronounced this one guy’s pecs were.

The swim team was also decent. One school day a year every spring, my school would host one of the important swim meets, and a lot of kids on campus nicknamed it the Sausage Fest because of all the young guys running around in speedos. The pool deck wasn’t nearly large enough to contain them all, but it was surrounded by a large tarmac between the pool and the classrooms. At one point, my path from class to class went straight through the hubbub, and all I remember is trying not to be too obvious about looking (thank goodness for darkened sunglasses that hide your eyes!) and my breathing becoming very heavy lol.

But, best of all was the last day of PE sophomore year when one of the water polo players decided to wear a speedo to class since we were all just hanging out in the sun by the pool anyway. He was the definitive water polo hunk, a true Adonis who anyone would be happy to look like: a tanned, muscular body with a pronounced bulge and sun-bleached blond hair. Plus, he didn’t have the largest bulge showing, but it was aesthetically quite pleasing, especially when he sat cross-legged on the pool deck! At the time, I thought he was wearing a team suit, but I just recently figured out that he was actually wearing the Turbo Jamaica** brief whose black, green and gold colors resemble our high school’s colors.

There may be a couple encounters I missed, but I’ll share them in another thread/storyline as they come to me. The point is, the journey had begun. The speedo love…had awoken. *dramatic music*

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**Previously identified as the Turbo South Africa brief. I have since determined that it was in fact the Turbo Jamaica brief as seen here: (I should add that this is NOT the guy from my school, just a photo I found online.)

[ReservedEnthusiast]

Chapter 02 Part 01
First Try

I will never forget the first time I actually tried one on. Sometime in late middle school or early high school, I was swimsuit shopping at a Sport Chalet (or one of those types of sporting goods stores; they’re all the same to me) with my mom because I needed a new suit, having destroyed the previous one by using it to do manual labor and landscaping for friends. Since we were going to a pool party with church friends, the suit obviously needed to be conservative to say the least, and I hadn’t even THOUGHT about wearing a speedo on its own at this point. Also keep in mind that I was so self-conscious that I regularly wore a rash guard to cover up and contain. (It also had some SPF value, so Mom liked that part!)

But, we found that a lot of suits for sale were board shorts, not lined swimsuits, so they lacked the netting inside which I found very helpful/supportive. So, I had the idea of wearing a speedo underneath as a sort of aquatic underwear and therefore picked out a few Speedo and TYR suits, both briefs and jammers, to try on. After we pulled a large number of suits and board shorts, we found a changing room in the middle of the large, warehouse-like building which resembled a wooden beach shack.

The next few minutes in that changing room were a rush for me. For the first time in my life, I could hold this elusive suit in my hands. Choosing a Speed-brand brief first, I felt the smooth coolness of the fabric, following the seams and gently caressing the nylon fabric. Then, I held it up in front of me and spread out my fingers inside so it would hang like there was an invisible body inside of it. It really wouldn't leave much to the imagination.

I pulled the speedo on first because I’d always been partial to wearing briefs over boxers, and I don’t think “instantly” accurately describes how quickly I became hard! It was like an old episode of Bewitched where they needed to make it look like something magically appeared out of nowhere and there was a noticeable cut in the film: I was normal, and then suddenly rock hard.

They felt amazing, looked amazing, WERE amazing! I couldn’t help but start rubbing a bit, not to reach a climax but to not leave the sexual rush unrecognized and therefore prone to growing beyond control. I suppose it was more of a vigorous readjustment inside the suit more than anything. I looked in the mirror, saw the tent, and then looked down. Because of the direct overhead light in the stall (not a fluorescent bulb but like a halogen one), there was a noticeable shadow on the floor.

With the suit on, I let my hands start traveling along the fabric on my body, following every contour, all the while imagining that I was one of those beautiful specimens of mankind, the swimmers plastered all over the internet as all-American heroes. I felt the slightest wave of emotion start to rush over me: it was the first time I saw myself as even minutely sexy. I saw myself as Michael Phelps (albeit with a little more "insulation" for winter) which was a wonderful feeling for someone who'd been teased about being fat since the first grade.

“How does it fit?” Mom asked from outside, bringing me back to the reality I suddenly found myself in: an aroused, self-conscious teenager in a speedo who was only separated from his mother by an un-lockable changing room door.

“Uuuuhhhhh….” I fumbled for words, “it fits...well?” Oh no, what if she wants to see it?!

“Do you want my opinion?” AUGH!

“UM, NO THANKS, I’M GOOD,” came one of the quickest replies ever made in human history. There was NO WAY I was about to let my mom see my raging boner; considering how shy I was, that was just NOT going to happen, in my book.

Then, to my horror, I realized that the stall door didn’t go all the way to the floor!!! If anyone even glanced towards my stall which was freestanding in the middle of the store, they could easily see the shadow of what was going on inside! I doubt anyone looked in, but the thought that Mom might’ve seen the bulge or the quick chicken-choking still haunts me to this day…

After a couple very stressful minutes, the arousal started to fade to a more manageable level. I then struggled to pull on the jammer which was much more difficult because of how much stretchy fabric there is to get into place. (Side note: Honestly, if you wear jammers for the modesty, I don’t really think it’s worth the effort of putting it on lol. I can’t imagine what it’s like to put on one of those full-body racing suits!) After managing to get myself under control, I looked in the mirror again and discovered no sign of a bulge whatsoever, soft or hard. Again, Mom asked to see it. I decided that it was better to show a mom no bulge at all rather than a boner, so I conceded and opened the door. I don’t really remember what conversation went down at this point; I was so focused on not letting my still-semi-hard member “refill.” Without further incident, I rushed back inside as I felt the sensation starting to return and got back into normal clothes as quickly as possible.

We ended up not buying anything at Dick's...uh, Sport Chalet...Authority...Goods store (again, can't remember which one it was) because none of the shorts fit my *generously* proportioned hips. I had to settle for some crap net-lined suit at Walmart because they made them big enough for me. But, I remembered where the brief suits and changing room were in that store for future reference.

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Chapter 02 Part 02
Return

It wasn’t until a couple years later in junior year of high school when I had my chance to go back alone. I was fully licensed to drive by then and Mom was out of town, so I had use of the car for a weekend without having to answer that unavoidable “Where are you going?” question. After church that Sunday, I returned to Dick’s Sports Chalet Sporting Authority (whatever) to the sporting goods store, immediately found the Speedo and TYR suits, and went back to the changing room. I couldn’t afford to buy one myself (and besides, I wouldn’t dare lest my mom found them in my things; she wasn’t nosy, but it was only a matter of time before she’d come across it - more on that later ). However, I could at least try them on again. This time, though, I found a random long shirt to hang on the inside of the door that would drape down to the floor and cover the huge gap for more privacy.

Yet again, it was a rush with instant arousal. This time, though, I was curious as to how to hide the arousal should I buy them and wear them in public. After all, all of those horny teenagers, college students, and men had to be able to hide a boner SOMEhow. So, I tried putting the old fella in different positions to see what was most subtle. With the extremely tight-fitting suit, though, it was almost impossible to hide! “How on earth do they do it???” I wondered to myself. It felt like trying to stuff a highly-sprung Jack in the Box back into the box! I soon determined, though, that my most discreet positioning (without a full-on Ken doll effect) was slightly up but to the right.

After 20 minutes or so, I finally decided that I had to each lunch because it felt like my stomach was starting to digest itself. So, I put the suits back and went home. It goes without saying that the self enjoyment that evening was incredible just thinking about how the speedo had felt!

[ReservedEnthusiast]

Chapter 03 Part 01
Freshman Year Begins

It was freshman year of college, a time of self-expansion and soul-searching. I was in a very small dorm room with 2 other guys, so personal space was extremely limited. But, I tend to be introverted and they were both pretty extroverted (or at least were more social than I), so I often had the room to myself unless (1) one of them was playing World of Legends or whatever it is (I’m not a gamer) or (2) the other was watching Netflix. Every once in a long while, they’d do homework.

We were all pretty modest. No one ever hung around naked or anything, and no one ever rubbed one out in front of each other (though my inner horny self kinda wanted to; I had fantasized about that a bit before coming to college, but that’s a story for another time, if at all ). The extent of their immodesty was sleeping in their underwear which was almost always boxers. Even then, they’d dress the second they got out of bed. The most I ever saw, therefore, was some morning wood from the Netflix watcher which he didn’t do much to hide.

Personally, I always slept in shorts and a shirt in addition to a pair of trunks or boxer briefs. They each had a top bunk, but I had the single bottom bunk across from the desks underneath the opposite bed, so I felt more exposed and I’m not much of what you’d call an “exhibitionist.” To further reaffirm my shyness, sometimes they’d come in with a random friend after I was already in bed, and whether I’m conscious or not, I’d rather not be exposed. I also found myself refraining from buying briefs, my favorite style of underwear, because I didn’t want them to see me in it while I was dressing or undressing.

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Side rant: Looking back, I shouldn’t really have felt embarrassed about whether I was seen in a certain type of underwear, and if you share these feelings too, I encourage you to get over it and just buy your favorite type of underwear. Your underwear is there to offer YOU support and comfort, so wear whatever makes you feel supported and comfortable; don’t conform to what your roommates prefer. They probably won’t care as much as you think they will, if they even notice at all. Additionally, I think it’s high time we get over the fact that we do all have family jewels as guys and they may end up showing in briefs more than they would in boxers. (Of course, if you go for the much more exhibitionistic options such as string bikinis or shear underwear, then you may need to consider your roommate’s feelings before hanging out in those around your room. It’s the polite thing to do.)

Plus, nothing matches the self-confidence you feel when walking around throughout the day while wearing your favorite skivvies underneath! My current favorites are the Calvin Klein black briefs with that wide metallic red waistband.

Anyway…

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The Netflix watcher swam in high school so he still had his suit, albeit a jammer, and I did see him once or twice in it. He had pretty nicely sculpted legs and butt because our uni’s campus is very hilly and required a lot of walking. I seem to remember once asking why he didn’t wear briefs and I believe he said something about being shy. Boy, we sure were a reserved bunch, huh?

However, I was friends with another guy who lived in the dorm room next door. He was on the football team and was therefore very fit but not overly muscular. This guy was just ripped enough for him to show evidence of definition no matter what he wears. He was much less reserved than my roommates and I were and didn’t mind walking down the hallway to the showers in just his underwear.

Oh, what a beautiful sight to behold he was! His body was attractive in a Chris Pratt sort of way; you know, some body hair and a lot of muscle, but it wasn’t so defined that it was intimidating or unrealistic. It was the kind of body that elicits a reaction like Agent Carter’s in Captain America after Steve Rogers comes out of Howard Stark’s machine: you just want to reach out and touch it, but of course, in the real world, you refrain and merely admire. He had broad shoulders, a flat stomach, round pecs, developed thighs and calves, and a pert bottom that displayed magnificently as he walked down the hall in nothing but his white Polo Ralph Lauren boxer briefs! Even his voice is attractive, just deep enough to catch your attention but not an indiscernible baritone. To this day, he is still my workout inspiration (well, one of them ) because he is exactly what I could look like since we have almost identical builds/body types, both having heritage from Poland and all. I see exactly who I could be in him.

I ran into him in the corridor one time when he was coming back from his post-practice shower (in just a towel, no less, with the subtlest hint of a bulge in front!). After somewhat awkwardly managing to compliment his body, I finally gathered enough courage at this point to talk to him about his fitness and physique and how I aspire to have the same. He stood there, basically naked, talking to me about his workout routines and meal plans for the football team. All the while, I had an excuse to ogle his body because he was telling me about how he trains what muscle, so naturally I would glance to that part of the body to see what he was talking about.

We became good friends because he was a very humble guy, not a stereotypically conceited jock, and was happy to guide me and even give me a reusable water bottle to use at the gym. To help me get on my way, he even typed out his workout routine for me and went to work out with me a couple times to train me. I still follow his general plan to this day!

After spending a few months with my roommates and training with this friend, I resolved to improve my body once and for all and to start swimming for the cardio portion of my friend’s workout routine. But, the last straw wouldn’t be plucked away until I first decided to swim instead of play racquetball against myself for cardio.

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Chapter 03 Part 02
The Last Straw

Our campus recently opened a brand new, absolutely stunning recreation center which has been ranked amongst the most beautiful in the nation. It has multiple racquetball courts, an indoor track, countless basketball courts, more weightlifting and machinery space than you could possibly hope to use, and a huge pool deck with beach volleyball courts, a leisure pool, and an olympic pool.

At the time, I still just had a pair of unlined Quicksilver board shorts which I’d used to replace the ones I’d gotten at Walmart (see previous “Becoming an Enthusiast” story), so I decided to wear those to swim laps. When I first went, I expected most people to just be in board shorts, even for swimming, because I know how shy college guys are when it comes to putting that part of their body on display (kind of ironic, considering how quick they are to show off the rest of their bodies).

Now, in one sense I was correct: every bro hanging out and tanning on the pool deck was in board shorts. But, I soon realized that I was the only one who’d come to exercise who was not in a speedo or jammer! I thought I would feel out of place in a speedo, but it was shockingly just the opposite! It was the oddest awkward situation I’d been in, where I was the one who was out of place BECAUSE of my modesty. I found myself rushing to get in the water BECAUSE of the shorts. I felt like everyone was staring at how stupid I looked.

In hind sight, of course, it’s a good sign that it was the opposite of what I’d expected. And, I should have known better since it seems like almost every single friend of mine at school (and the student body as a whole) used to be a swimmer or water polo player! It makes me wish I’d pursued doing it myself in high school. I love being in the pool, and I love the camaraderie between swim mates.

Anyway, wearing board shorts combined with the fact that I hadn’t swum laps for exercise in years resulted in me swimming only 2 laps. There was so much drag on the suit, and they were clumsy to swim in! Regardless of opinions about whether you can acceptably leisure swim and hang out in speedos, board shorts are just stupid for swimming laps. Why on earth would anyone do that unless they were a pro swimmer that needed the extra drag for a better workout?!

I decided that stopping my workout then was a better alternative to drowning. There was no questioning the fact that I’d reached the last straw using board shorts to swim. The first thing I did after FURIOUSLY storming back to my dorm that afternoon was start googling speedo brands and styles. But that’s for the next installment.

[ReservedEnthusiast]

Chapter 04 Part 01
The Speedo Speedo

I began my research right away after nearly drowning to death swimming laps in my board shorts. I didn’t know where to start, really. So, I decided to start with Speedo, the most tried and true speedo brand out there. I didn’t like TYR’s styles as much. And at this point, I’d never even heard of the other brands out there like Arena or Turbo. The only reason I knew TYR and Speedo were because of those weekly ads that come in the mail from sports stores like Big 5. Heaven forbid my roommates walk in now when I have photos of speedo-clad men and close-ups of their crotches spread all over my computer screen!

I elected to skip the jammer stage and get a pair of briefs. I went on Speedo’s website and found a size 38 suit (the closest to my size that I could find) on sale and bought it. It was probably one of the strangest choices of model for a super-shy swimmer: the Home of the Fast Kelly Green model in Kelly Green because it matches my school colors a bit.

Gratuitous photo of Ryan Lochte modeling the same suit in grey with his dog for the Sexiest Man Alive shoot:



The next couple days were fraught with anxious waiting and vigorous pleasuring thinking of what it would be like once I have my own speedo. Would the fabric feel the same as the one in high school? Would I be disappointed? Would it be too revealing for Modest Me to wear in public? Would it hide a boner by distracting the other swimmers with its ridiculously bombastic pattern? Would it make me look like the least endowed man on Earth if it's too tight? Well, it decently displays Phelps and Lochte, so hopefully it'll work for me. What would my roommates think if they saw me with a flamboyant speedo? At least it was in my school colors so I could say it was to show school spirit or pride… :/

A few days later, I’d almost completely forgotten about it thanks to the stress of my classes. Like usual, the first thing I did when I get back to my dorm is check my mailbox. There was a small slip of paper inside: the package notice! It had arrived! I practically skidded around the corner running to the front desk to pick it up.

My friend working there gets the package out for me. Oh, no, what if it has Speedo plastered all over the box?! They’ll see how small the package is and realize it can’t possibly be board shorts! I suppose it could be goggles or something too. Oh, ok, thank goodness it’s just plain white. No embarrassment there. I retreated quickly to my room, locked the door, and savagely tore the package open.

Oh, god, it’s small.

Actually, it’s smaller than most of my underwear! Did I order a swimsuit or a bandana???

I take it out of the box and feel the suit in my hands. It’s different than before, a different fabric blend, perhaps. It may be small compared to my board shorts, but at least it has wide 3” sides. The wild colors are printed in the fabric itself, but the black and grey stars are actually a little textured, so they have the slightest dimensionality to them. The Speedo logo is heat-transferred on the side.

Wai-WAIT A SECOND. There’s a gigantic star front and center, right where my manhood will be housed which practically shouts, “HEY! CHECK OUT THIS GUY IN HIS BANANA HAMMOCK. HIS DICK IS RIGHT THERE.” It’s an advertisement for goods I don’t want to sell! Why the heck did I order this suit?!

I look inside. The suit seems to have no structure to it. It’s just two patches of fabric stitched together. It’s fully lined with a black nylon-Lycra blend. Good, that’ll help conceal better. I can’t stop feeling it in my hands. I even lift it up to smell the fabric. Huh. Smells just like…fabric. Ok, not sure what I expected there.

Time to try it on.

I double check that the door is locked. That way, I’d have a few seconds’ warning if one of the roomies comes back. Golly, what a rush! My own speedo, finally! (I really needed like a size 40 to be more comfortable, but being a fashion-conscious designs student, I couldn’t bear the appearance of the other suits that came in my size. No imagination!) Alright, this takes a bit more effort than I expected. Oh my, this is small. The resulting arousal isn’t quite as immediate or untamable as when I’d first worn them before, but this time, it’s special. I could do whatever I want with or in this suit, because it was mine. I could even rub one out if I want!

But, reality check: I didn’t have my own room. I couldn’t wear or relax in it for very long because there’s no telling when one of my roommates might walk in. And I certainly couldn’t have a wank. Nonetheless, my enthusiasm was realized! The only thing that remained…was swimming in it……

[ReservedEnthusiast]

Chapter 04 Part 02
The Pool

It took a day or two to find the time to go to the pool. I was and am a college student, after all! The first day going out in my suit found me enduring a mixture of excitement and anxiety. I wanted so desperately to be one of the swimmers who slice through the water like a hot knife through butter, but at the same time, I was incredibly embarrassed about my body. So, I donned my Speedo speedo in the privacy of my room and put on my board shorts for the walk down to the rec center. I didn’t bother with the rash guard; that stage had passed. All I slipped on was a tank top just to get me to the pool.

It felt almost like a slow motion scene going from my dorm to the pool. A suspenseful personal soundtrack played in my head. This isn’t a movie, so I can’t compose and insert my own music here. BUT, this is the internet, YouTube exists, and you can open another tab while reading this! So, I suggest you open and play this 1m29s clip in another tab while reading the next few paragraphs: https://youtu.be/aRDsnJSn9j8 (Mentally, there was more cello, but this is the closest I can come without spending an hour hunting down what I was inwardly hearing.)

In my mind, everyone was staring at me as I walked like they could see the speedo underneath. It was a valid fear, in my defense; the speedo’s tight, unforgiving grip caused a slight but noticeable line in the loose board shorts where the thigh exits the suit. Reaching the rec center, I tensely entered my access code, hesitantly crossed the lobby, and timidly wrapped through the locker room. As the lockers and half-naked guys seemed to close in around me, I unwittingly paused just short of the door to the pool deck, frozen in apprehension with a towel, tank top (How did that remove itself? I didn’t remember taking it off.) and goggles in hand.

Going out in speedos for the first time can be difficult for many people, as I’ve read. The general consensus seems to be that the problem has to do with modesty, how your package gets advertised to everyone. Contrarily, my biggest fear was putting this much of my out-of-shape body on display. The guys weren’t as much of a concern for a few reasons. I could handle whatever the guys thought of my package. I’m not showing any goods that they haven’t seen or don’t have themselves; only, I’m better, uh, *insulated* for the cold winter months. Additionally, they shouldn’t judge me for being out of shape while in a specialized swim suit at the pool if I’m there to exercise and improve myself. It would be like teasing a guy who doesn’t bench as much as you if they’re just starting out compared to your years of experience; they’re a work in progress. Lastly, if I boned up, I thought (hoped) they’d understand. But, it was the girls I was most nervous about. Not being happy with the shape I was in, I didn’t want to show off too much of myself to them. (And, in my defense, having thick thighs makes your bulge look relatively smaller.) As a straight guy, the last thing I wanted to do was detract girls with my body, bulge, or choice of clothing.

“Alright, this is it. There’s no need to panic about it,” I reassured myself. “You’re there to swim, just like every other guy and girl out there in the pool. You’re dressed appropriately, so just go for it.”

My heart raced, probably from the effort of supplying blood to my stomach which was, at the time, attempting to digest the butterflies which had suddenly appeared.

After what felt like half an hour of deliberation, I couldn’t quite bring myself to go straight out on the pool deck in just the speedo. No, no, I would need to warm up to it. Instead of just strutting my stuff from the outright, I wore my board shorts over the speedo itself. I only semi-confidently slithered out of the locker room to the pool, as quickly and unnoticeably as possible, where I was faced with a hoard of sun-soakers and a pool nearly brimming with swimmers. I was suddenly very glad I hadn’t quite had the confidence yet; I’d much rather ease into it with this many witnesses.

I chose a lane as far away from the lifeguard as possible; that way, my brain speculated, they couldn’t easily see how utterly rubbish I was at swimming, nor would they easily notice my speedo. I took a few last deep breaths, put my goggles on, and jumped in. I stripped off the board shorts underwater and so no one could see my suit underneath unless they watch me underwater or follow my laps from a high vantage point.

Time for a new soundtrack piece: https://youtu.be/Ry4BzonlVlw?t=43s. (Shoutout to the Piano Guys for being 100% amazing!)

It was such a different experience from swimming with board shorts. The suit ended up providing the perfect balance of package display, design interest, ease of motion, and boner management. If anything, the craziness and brightness of the pattern would hide any signs of arousal by distracting the observer from growing contours or shadows. Fortunately, I didn’t develop a major physical reaction to the situation and consequently test my theory. In fact, I remained relatively unaroused for the duration of the swim. The experience of the swim itself was rewarding in and of itself. I could feel the water moving along the contours of my legs. The lack of drag was a relief to my muscles and respiratory system. I felt a million miles per hour quicker, like a pro swimmer. And best of all, I could twist and turn and kick my legs more freely with the lack of fabric restriction.

Later on, though, when I was approaching the end of my workout when I’d have to get out of the pool, I began feeling a stir again. I wasn’t very well positioned in the suit, so as it grew it became sort of like a rudder guiding me through the water. It certainly helped my stability.

When it came time to get out, I put my board shorts back on underwater and found the nearest ladder to climb out. (I wasn’t about to try to roll out of the pool like a beached seal trying to maneuver on land.) I collected my things and left, feeling somewhat accomplished. I’d finally done it! I’d worn and swum in my speedo in public!

This routine of taking my shorts off after getting in the pool went on for a couple months, generally without incident. There were one or two times, though, that I would reach the end of the lane and then would be horrified to see a friend standing there that had somehow recognized me! They had to have noticed my speedo! I would attempt to hold a conversation with them, after restarting my heart, of course. Eventually, they’d go away so I could leave my position as close to the wall as possible so they couldn’t see what I’m wearing, or at least couldn’t get a closer look at how I fit in it!

Eventually, I reached the point where swimming in briefs was somewhat normal to me such that there were no more unwarranted displays of arousal. It just takes time to grow accustomed to the suit. I therefore answered the question I’d asked myself the second time I’d tried on a speedo. “How on Earth do the swimmers hide their constant boners?!” Answer: the hard-ons get less constant as you spend more time in them.

Regardless, after building confidence doing the actual laps in a speedo, I decided that this regular undressing and redressing was getting tiresome, and I still didn’t feel comfortable being seen in the speedos. I needed to be able to wear something that I could be seen in both in and out of the water. Thus my hunt for a jammer began.

Aaaaaaaannnnnnnd…kill the music.

[ReservedEnthusiast]

Chapter 05 Part 01
The Jammer

Well, I’d done it. I’d worn a speedo in public…sort of…and I could keep my urges under control. But, I of course want to be able to get in and out of the pool without undressing and re-dressing, so after a summer- and autumn-long hiatus from swimming (thanks to travel and then an incredibly stressful fall at school, but that’s another story which I don’t need to share), I started to look for an affordable jammer to wear instead. It was just about halfway through sophomore year at uni and I was living in an apartment on campus with 3 other guys, so I had a room to myself to wear swimwear if I want and relax completely alone.

I decided to stick with Speedo because, again, Speedo and TYR were the only brands I know and I’m not a huge fan of TYR’s designs. After all, Speedo was tried and true so I knew I could trust it without having to consult other guys or friends for advice. I decided to go with the X Plaid Spliced Jammer in blue because (1) I LOVE blue and (2) the design down the side of the jammer looked super cool. It arrived and I began going to the pool again after a long break. I also invested in some mirrored Speedo goggles (I can sometimes suffer from crippling brand loyalty, if you haven't noticed) to wear because the clear (Speedo again) goggles I’d bought before were too bright to look through on a sunny day.

Here’s the suit from the front:



This time, I wore my suit straight from the locker room to the water. It was just tight enough to give me a similar sensation as the briefs, that precious combination of display, athleticism, and support. Though, with jammers you feel the comforting extra coverage. Consequently, a couple of weeks saw any reservations I had melt away. Pretty soon, I was confident enough to not just go straight to a lane but to go find a chaise lounge as well! I was still very conscious of how overweight I was, but I figured the dark-colored jammer offered enough cover and containment to walk on the pool deck even without a rash guard. I also found myself spending more time tanning by the pool after I swim because I am desperately white, like printer-paper white, underneath my clothes. (Don’t worry, I use sunscreen and I don’t spend too much time out there!)

That first jammer lasted from January until August. Yes, that’s a shockingly long time for a suit to last with regular use, but that’s because I wasn’t regularly using it until May or June. It was at the point where I could start seeing through the suit if I looked inside of it before putting it on. So, I decided to buy a new one before any accidental reveals à la Nathan Adrian happened. I'm sure you've seen the photos before, but here they are in case you haven't and are too lazy to go hunting them down:





Apparently, it happens to him on a regular basis. Anyway...

For my second jammer I had to settle for a Speedo Solid Jammer in navy because it was the only one in my size and my price range at the time. Unsurprisingly, I ended up returning it to Speedo almost instantly and buying the Rapid Splice Xtra Life Lycra Jammer in black/blue on Amazon instead; I couldn’t bear the oppressive simplicity of the styling of the solid jammer.

This is the suit:



This time, I asked my roommate for his opinion on how they fit, him being a former polo player as well. And good news: these jammers were the same size as my previous ones, but they were too loose! I’d lost weight! Woohoo! I’ve never been more happy to exchange an item of clothing.

I owe a lot to my jammers. You know, we criticize jammers for their modesty and difficulty to get on, myself included, but it helped me transition to having the confidence to wear a skintight swimsuit where others could see me. Them allowing me to reduce the blinding whiteness of my upper body also made me feel less self-conscious about taking my shirt off when I went to the beach with my housemates. They also helped me finally feel comfortable in my own skin…well, with the anonymity of the pool deck, anyway. Although, as I was about to find out, I wasn’t as alone at the pool as I’d hoped. Soon, friends started appearing left and right.

To be continued…