Tales Told Out Of School. 3. On Being A Man In A Girls' School.

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An Enlightening Accident.

Steve let them both into the Annex before the grounds around them were flooded with girls, curious about them going together into this mysterious building that was always locked, and was out of bounds to them.

Margaret saw that the windows had all been recently cleaned, and could smell the faint whiff of chlorine even as she entered the building, and sensed the increased humidity. She could hear various pumps operating to circulate the water, and others probably associated with heating it. It would be a real plus for the school to be able to boast of a heated swimming pool to attract new pupils to go along with the tennis courts and playing fields, and bicycle and ski trails.

She saw Steve flip a nob to lock the door behind them and to stop any other girls from coming in after them to find out what they were doing, and then went into the small office by the front door and switched on all of the lights. Margaret could see piles of towels ready to hand out, and cubby holes of swim caps, and where personal valuables could be left.

She was no longer as tongue-tied or as shy as she had been earlier. “You were army, weren’t you?” He nodded, as she continued to speak.

“My father’s, army. He’s always getting posted somewhere, so my life for the last few years has been a succession of boarding schools. It’s a thankless life. My kids will never go to boarding school.”

“Mine, either.” He blurted that out before he had even thought about it. She looked at him. Was he married? Did he have children? He didn’t wear a ring. “When I get any, but I’d have to be married first.” He looked at her as he said that, seeming to want her to know that he was not married. She blushed, having been caught expressing a transparent personal interest in him.

She was not sure why that knowledge comforted her, but it did.

“I suffered the same problem with boarding schools.” He led the way through the office doors and into the pool area, bypassing the change rooms.

Everyone else had to walk along the glass-fronted corridor to get to the swimming pool and to go through the change rooms first, or head up the stairs to the observation area overlooking the pool. It already felt warm.

“How long did it take to fill?”

“A few days. I started heating it yesterday and it’s almost there.” He dropped to his knee, reached down and felt the water temperature, noting that it was bearable.

Margaret had been looking up at the observation area at that same moment, not seeing what he was doing and she nudged into him.

With him already leaning over he could do nothing once she nudged him off balance.

“Damn!”

She grabbed for his arm as he threw it out to try and recover his balance, and her fingers got snagged into his shirt cuff. She was pulled off balance too.

Before she knew it, both of them were in the pool. They threshed around for a few seconds at the shock of it before finding their feet.

He was chuckling and he shouldn’t have been. She was not sure she should laugh. It was the shallow end.

“Yes, I would say it is warm enough. What a thing to have happen. Are you alright?” He expected her to give him hell for dragging her in with him.

Margaret was spluttering, but soon recovered her composure and began to laugh too. She had expected him to take into her, for sending him off balance.

“I hadn’t planned on swimming quite so soon or with all of my clothes on.” He laughed and blew water off his nose end as he smoothed his hair back down.

They both found their feet and waded in the waist deep water to the side.

He could see that her blouse was clinging to her body, and hid little of her now that it was wet, showing that she was indeed well developed. She didn’t seem to notice, but he did. Her nipples were hard again. Were they always that way?

Steve put his hands on the side of the pool and lifted himself out in one smooth action as water poured out of his clothes. He turned around and helped Margaret, taking both of her hands into his, sliding his hands down under her arms and lifting her bodily out of the water, straightening his legs and lifting her as though she weighed nothing, to stand beside him.

She knew that he must be very strong to have done that so effortlessly with an extra twenty-pounds of water in her clothes, but she'd already found that out when she'd stumbled earlier.

She was not sure what would happen now. “So what do we do? Where can we get dried? I can’t go back to the school looking like this, and not with all of the classes emptying.”

Steve pointed. “I’ve got it covered. The change rooms. There is a washer and a dryer in there. I think we baptized the pool, don’t you? Or it baptized us.” He looked at her and smiled. “I think I shall try to believe that you pushed me into the pool by accident.” He was making light of it, but with more humor.

“It was an accident. I was looking at the observation area when you stopped and leaned over to test the water.”

“I know. I’m joking.” They walked over to the changing rooms with Steve holding her elbow. They were leaving a trail of water behind them and noisily sloshing water with each step. Margaret’s hair was a tangled and wet mess. She was not sure where it would go from here. Did he expect them both to disrobe together? And what about after that?

“You go ahead. I’ll go back to the office and grab a load of towels and a couple of robes.” He turned back to the office.

When he entered the change area, she had already put the lights on, and was sitting on a bench, getting rid of her shoes. He dropped a few towels beside her and helped her undo the knots on her shoes. Her hands were trembling. She looked almost ready to cry. He didn’t understand that, and looked up at her.

“What’s the matter?”

Her lip trembled, but she soon recovered. “The shock of it, I suppose.” That, and many other unexpected things, and the way he was looking at her and smiling.

...Or, she was worried about him and what he intended for her.

“Yes, I suppose it would have that effect. I expect you’re concerned too, about me and this situation, but you don’t need to be. You are safe.”

She nodded. “So what do we do?” She was leaving it up to him, and not sure she could believe him about her being safe.

He looked around.

“We don’t have much choice. Some of the showers work. We will need to get the chlorine out of our clothes and hair under a warm shower—the water’s hot by now—then get our outer-clothes into the washer with some detergent in a warm wash, though I have nothing that might shrink (unlike her skirt, maybe), and then get them dry in the dryer, or pat them dry in towels.”

She listened. He said outer-clothes, so that was a relief. They would not be naked together. That would be unthinkable, but interesting. Perhaps.

“Your skirt might need to be patted dry with it being wool, and then the pleats can be brought back with an iron. There’s an ironing board and an iron over there. I can stuff some wash-cloths into our shoes to get them dry and stop them being damaged and I know that there is polish upstairs for your shoes if they need it, and some leather treatment for my boots. We’ll likely leave here looking much more clean and tidy than we came in. That will be sure to raise suspicions.” He seemed to know what to do, but suspicions about what? He had a twinkle in his eyes as he said that, still joking with her.

He saw her uncertainty.

“What I am saying is that we shower just as we are, and then strip down to our underclothes (if you are comfortable with that), and you can do the rest, under a robe, and then we drop our underwear into the washer to join the other clothes. Although”—he hesitated, realizing that she might not be comfortable with what he was suggesting—“if you’d rather see to yourself and be alone, I can leave you here to do all of that for yourself once I get the showers started, and come back in half an hour when you're finished. I can get dry and changed upstairs.”

She looked at him. “No. You don’t need to do that. You shouldn’t stay wet like that. I think I can trust you. You did tell Mrs. Waring that you and I would be over here.”

He grinned sheepishly. “I tried to, but she wasn’t in the office, so we are on our own. Will that be a problem for you?” He looked at her for a few seconds as she weighed that admission. She made up her own mind. Now or never. Do or die! She was also getting cold.

"Just as well she doesn't know, though she might miss us both." She barely hesitated after saying that. “I’ll let you start the showers. At least it’s private, and the rest of the school doesn’t need to know that we fell into the pool. We might never live that one down.” Was she actually saying this and laughing about it?

He felt relieved that she was able to deal with it so well as he stooped to undo his own boots and peeled them off, followed by his socks, which he put with hers and then wrung them all out over a drain. Then wash-cloths. He picked up a handful of them and began to stuff them into her shoes, with others into his boots.

“That’s the spirit. What they don’t know, can’t harm either of us.”

She followed him, and watched what he did. She would follow his lead, but would not let anything go beyond a certain point, whatever that point was, but it was a good start.

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