For someone who hated gym class in school, I’d developed a surprising affinity for swimming during my first year at university. Entering my second year after the summer break, I stopped by the campus pool, eager to step back into the water.

My return coincided with the end of a major overhaul of the locker rooms. I only had to follow the smell of fresh paint and traces of sawdust. As anticipated, it was much larger. Brand-new lockers and clothes hooks took up an entire wall and additional benches had been installed around the room. Off to the side in an enclave, I saw an expanded bathroom with individual cubicles and urinals, offering a little privacy in the otherwise open-plan area.

The renovation didn’t extend to the pool, which stayed as small as ever. If you wanted a guaranteed solo swim, it was best to be there at 7am. Even an hour later, you often struggled to find a locker and a lane. Because it was the start of term, though, only two guys were there when I arrived at 10am. Helpfully, they were at one end of the locker bank and engrossed in a conversation about supplements, so I went to the other end.

I removed my T-shirt, then immediately questioned myself, like realising I’d absentmindedly driven down a one-way street in the wrong direction.

There was a time when this room would have been entirely inconceivable: an open-plan area where everyone could undress and shower together, regardless of gender. During my lifetime, this idea became less radical, then gradually progressed from fringe acceptance to broader implementation. By the time it became mainstream, my university – already moderately progressive – had knocked down the wall between the former gendered rooms, while even the more traditional institutions were actively considering the same. It amused me how the sanitary bins were placed next to the urinals, as if to hammer home the point.

But I’d briefly forgotten all that, causing my moment of panic. When I relaxed, I unhooked my bra and continued to undress as they chatted away. From that point on, it hardly felt different from changing with other women. Once in my swimsuit, I went into the showers first, then the guys used the ones furthest away from me. I don’t think they were looking at my body, but if they were, it was more subtle than I could detect. When I finished my swim and returned to the showers, there were two different men and another woman, all of us naked and none of us looking at or caring about each other’s genitals.

After my swim, I spoke to Dawn on reception. Naturally, the new facilities were the topic of the day.

‘Some students,’ she said, ‘were threatening to withdraw their memberships, but actually, we’ve only had a handful of cancellations. Even then, we’ve had a load of freshers joining us, so business is pretty much booming at the moment. Do you know,’ she went on, ‘studies show the level of risk in gendered rooms compared to mixed ones is virtually identical, even a bit less in some cases? Of course, I think everyone should just swim naked because if everyone’s going to see your bits anyway, what difference does it make? Maybe I’ll open my own pool, clothing optional, and call it Unisex Utopia.’

I should have learned the previous year not to engage Dawn in conversation when I was desperate to head home. And I was desperate because there was one factor I hadn’t accounted for.

I don’t masturbate regularly. Every so often, the mood strikes me and I’ll maybe have a couple of orgasms, then not again for a week or two. Very occasionally, a fantasy will just appeal to me and I’ll do it more often. But I came home from the pool that first day and gave myself an unparalleled three orgasms, one after the other. I put it down to the novelty of being around naked men and assumed it would wear off after a few visits. It did not.

Much as the renowned Pavlov’s Dog started to salivate when a bell was rung, I began to associate my swimming visits with a wet vagina, totally beyond my control, no matter how much I reminded myself the place was supposed to be a non-sexual environment and only for changing into swimsuits. I even made a point of giving myself an orgasm in my bedroom beforehand. This would satisfy me at the time, yet I was ready for a second one by the time I reached the pool. I was sometimes frustrated that a year of swimming still hadn’t quite shifted my chubbiness, but at least the fat hid my clit, no matter how much of a lady-boner I had.

There was no comfortable place to have that second orgasm in the locker room. Besides, the rules were clear around any sexual activity: there should be none, on pain of a suspension or a ban. This hadn’t changed since the days of the gendered rooms. When I was alone, I would sometimes cut my sessions short to go back home and deal with it, but I would push through whenever I was with my semi-regular swimming buddy.

Matt and I had become friendly at the start of term when we discovered a mutual love of the water. He was a year below me on the same course, but five years above me in age. He’d been working in retail since leaving school and was now returning to education to help him find a more skilled job. Before our first session together, he said matter-of-factly he was a trans man and he didn’t want there to be any surprises. I told him I wasn’t in the habit of staring at others when they were changing.

Despite this, he proudly talked me through his body. ‘I don’t have much of a beard, but plenty of chest hair. Here,’ he pointed below his nipples, ‘that’s where the breast tissue was removed. Happy trail right down here, and finally, the penis I grew myself.’

Since he was pointing, I allowed myself a look. It was easily three times as big as my clit.

‘It’s still tiny,’ he went on, ‘but that’s the magic of testosterone.’ When he pulled up his tight Lycra swim shorts, it formed a cute bulge. ‘Still wish I was eight inches and could shoot cum, though.’

And this just added to the complex and vivid go-to fantasies I’d developed.

One of my favourites involved the university swimming society. After our meetings, we would all shower off together and change back into our clothes without any fuss. But in my fantasy, I imagined everyone thoroughly soaping each other up. I was always among them, and I was sure to imagine Matt with the penis of his dreams. After that, team members would pair up. In some versions of my fantasy, the boys wouldn’t quite finish the job with each girl, but instead take a turn with another one. In other versions, there was more male-on-male action, but rarely female-on-female as it simply didn’t do much for me. In every case, there would be a lot of fluids left from everyone.

Back in the real world, I’d also found a boyfriend around the start of second year, but our meeting had nothing to do with swimming.

One night I was in a student bar and Aidan was performing a stand-up comedy set. During his routine, he told us he’d recently moved to the area. He kept mispronouncing its name and I was drunk enough by then to give me the confidence to heckle him with the correct pronunciation. He came over afterwards and I nearly ran away, expecting him to go mad for my interruption. He instead apologised for his error, bought me a drink and we hit it off from there.

We had a lot in common, but he needed some persuasion to come to the pool, telling me it wasn’t his strong suit. I initially didn’t believe him. He was a gardener by trade with a body that was almost naturally hairless and I assumed the muscles built up from mowing lawns and trimming trees would serve him well. But after Dawn registered him as a non-student and talked his ear off about the best times to visit, we both ended up staying in the side lane reserved for less capable swimmers. It was awkward for me to slow down to his pace, even when he was trying his hardest to keep up.

However, he excelled at one activity. We’d started having sex not long after we met. It helped to take the edge off my recent horniness more effectively than masturbating. He said he’d generally been with men and I was his first woman for a while, then he told me something I didn’t know about all-male sex. ‘So there’s a kind of divide with a lot of men; tops and bottoms, we call them. So the ones who prefer giving anal are tops, and bottoms prefer receiving.’

‘I always thought you just decided at the time. Like I’ll sometimes decide to go face-down for a change, but not always. What do you prefer? When you’re with men, I mean.’

‘Being queer means a lot of admin.’ That was a line straight from his routine. ‘I lean towards topping but I don’t mind bottoming. Trouble is I always seem to attract guys who only top, so I hardly ever have a chance.’

‘Why do you like topping?’

‘Nice and tight.’

These conversations did nothing to dampen my sex drive. The more I learnt about my boyfriend’s boyfriends, the more I wanted to learn. There was only one downside: none of my friends had dated a bi guy before, so I couldn’t compare notes with anyone, but I filled them in on the best parts.

I didn’t tell Aidan about my fantasies involving the swimming team, but I did confess I was curious about making use of the locker room for sneaky sex. I thought he would be like most guys and jump at the chance. Instead, he had a grand plan to make it on TV with his comedy. He said he didn’t want to risk being caught and having the media finding out what he’d done.

I tried a few different persuasive strategies, but he only seriously considered one of them. If he agreed to have sex in the locker room, I would let him do it anally. Weighing up the temptation of my offer against the odds of being caught, he finally said yes.

I made it out to be a big deal for me. I didn’t mention at that stage how I also enjoyed it occasionally with my previous boyfriends. I would reveal this afterwards.

We picked a Sunday morning, just a few minutes after the pool opened. Another receptionist was on duty, with a badge reading ‘Gabby’. I hadn’t seen her before, but at least we weren’t delayed with Dawn’s chatter.

We already wore our swimming gear under our clothes, so it was a simple matter of placing our outer layers in the lockers. I could already see his erection underneath his tight shorts and the sight of that made me even wetter. As expected, the place was ours, but we still went to the bathroom enclave for extra privacy. Nobody could see us in there, but we would be able to hear anyone in the main locker room.

Aidan pulled down the bottom part of my two-piece swimsuit and applied lubricant from a new bottle. I could tell he’d done this before, using as much as would fit on one finger, gently bending me over the sinks and loosening me up. When he lubricated another finger and tried to insert it, the pleasure I felt started to turn to pain. There was absolutely nothing wrong with his technique, plus I’d taken thick penises before. It might have been because I was nervous about being caught or because I hadn’t had anal for a long time. I didn’t cry out too loudly, but he still asked whether he should stop. I told him to keep going.

When we were both satisfied I was loose enough, the pleasure came flooding back as he thrust his penis into me. I moved one hand to my clit and began furiously masturbating. It didn’t take long for me to finish, but I kept as quiet as possible. At around the same time, I felt Aidan shoot the first of his spunk inside me, and we heard the locker room door opening.

He withdrew and we both snapped our swimsuits back into place. I hoped mine would trap his fluid inside me until I could reach the shower. Just as we straightened ourselves out, in walked Dawn. She was only taken aback for a couple of seconds.

‘Oh hi, I wasn’t expecting anyone. I’m not working as such, I thought I’d come down and supervise Gabby. She only joined last week and she’s picking it up, but whoever designed the system was obsessed with tabs. You’ve got a tab for the client details, then you need to open a separate tab for membership details, then another one to put in all the notes. They’re not even colour-coded; it’s a nightmare. And what are you two up to?’

For a second, I thought she’d seen or heard what we’d just done.

‘Later on,’ she clarified, unprompted, ‘obviously you’re swimming just now.’

‘Oh, um, not much today,’ I said. ‘Aidan had a gig last night. It ran over by nearly an hour, so we’re a bit tired.’

‘Aidan. I’m Dawn, I’m on reception.’

‘I know,’ he said, ‘we’ve met a few times now.’

‘Oops. I see so many people, it’s hard to keep track.’ As she spoke, she moved to one of the cubicles and pulled down her jogging bottoms, keeping the door open. ‘Forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on and all that.’ Both of us looked away as best as we could, but not before seeing her shaved vulva and protruding clit.

‘Shower,’ I interjected with more urgency than I intended, not just on account of the unexpected display, but because some of Aidan’s semen was dripping out of me.

‘Have a good swim,’ she added, as her stream hit the water.

We hurried our way to the showers and washed off as much of our fluids as possible. Fortunately, we’d planned to swim anyway so nobody would ask why our visit was so short. As my boyfriend snapped his swim shorts back into place, I saw his penis hardening again, probably a reaction to seeing Dawn half-naked. I was tempted to make a joke, but I decided against it. Besides, my clit was still solid under my layers of fat. If Aidan had been capable, we would have had sex again.

Once we’d gone a few lengths of the pool, I saw Dawn waving at us from the side. She met us at one end. Keeping her voice unusually low, she asked. ‘Did you leave a bottle of lube on the sink?’

‘Um…’ I started.

‘Don’t worry about it. Mixed changing or not, it happens all the time. I’ve put it in my locker. Come up and see me before you leave.’

‘Um, thanks.’

‘Just don’t get caught by anyone but me. I hate suspending members. I can never find the right system tab.’

Aidan and I barely had time to speak to each other about what happened. Matt left the locker room just as Dawn entered.

‘What are you doing here?’ I asked.

‘Am I not allowed to come without you?’ He climbed into the pool beside us. ‘I’m kidding. I’m working this afternoon.’

‘Working? I thought you gave that up.’

‘I’ve gone back part-time. Turns out I needed more cash than I thought. I’m already behind.’

‘You haven’t met Aidan, have you?’

‘I’ve definitely not met you,’ said Aidan, ‘unlike Dawn.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ said Matt. The boys shook hands. I spotted them holding each other’s gaze a little longer than I expected, and in that moment, I wondered whether they found each other attractive. With the water up to chest height, it was difficult to tell whether either of them had given the other an erection. I had no objections, though, as I’d found myself fantasising about Matt when I masturbated. I pondered how to turn fantasy into reality.