Do naked sportsmen usually feel uncomfortable when female sports reporters interview them inside the locker room? Hi, my name is Allyson and my job as a journalist is to go into men’s locker rooms after games to interview the players. Most men are completely naked in that testosterone-fuelled environment. But I am supposed to be professional about it. Professional or not, I enjoy seeing naked, muscular guys showering! I find it exciting! Some women sportswriters have admitted to me when I asked them that when they are in the presence of nude male athletes that are physical specimens, they do often observe their entire physiques...it is only natural. If while in the locker rooms a female reporter, female press agent or camerawoman is found to be viewing a naked male athlete below the waist, I think it should be met with acceptance and understanding. Women sportswriters in these situations should be allowed to glance at the genitals or butts of these nude athletes without fear they will be accused of being sex fiends. So do naked sportsmen feel uncomfortable when female sports reporters interview them inside the locker room when they step out of the shower? I did ask that question from a few. Let's face it; the interest of a woman in viewing a naked man's attributes is a form of compliment to the man. Athletes that accept my presence, and even provide an environment that encourages me to enjoy viewing all aspects of their naked male body is very positive. Some even told me they get aroused sometimes from being naked and interviewed by a fully clothed woman. They can tell when I am turned on by what is on display in front of me. And I can vouch to that, judging from the semi-erection some athletes get while I interview them. I make an effort to pretend that I don’t notice. But neither of us are fooled by this little comedy. And when the players ask me what it is like being a woman reporter in a locker room full of naked men. I tell them we are just like any other woman, only braver. Some change room facilities provide less of an opportunity for modesty than others. In our college locker room for instance showers are wide open and fully visible from the dressing area surrounding the lockers. Hence, I can readily view unobstructed the men as they bathe soaping the most intimate parts of their body. I know what you want to ask me. How I felt the first time I went in. And have I ever gone out with athletes I interviewed naked in locker rooms? I can answer the second question quite readily. I have my own rules: Don’t date players. Don’t fall in love with one. Our college never had a female reporter go into the men change room. The controversy about admitting women in the locker room began the semester before when women rights groups on campus demanded that women be admitted. The university naturally denied the request at first. There was a lot of attention on campus on that issue. Finally the women won the right for female reporters to walk into men’s change rooms after games and interview athletes, naked or not. And I was the first to test the waters. My heart was pounding, my mouth dry as parchment as I walked in the men’s locker room for the first time. I didn’t know what to expect or how to dress. So I came to work on that famous first time wearing a sweat shirt, jeans and sandals. Nothing provocative or outlining my feminine curves. What I couldn’t anticipate though was my reaction when I would encounter a naked athlete for the first time, especially if he was an incredible looking guy, muscular and well endowed. Well you know what I mean. After the game I quickly walked into the men’s change room right after the team got off the basketball court. I wanted to get my scoop and leave before the men had time to undress and get in the shower. Instead I walked in and found myself among 30 young muscular guys completely naked and with incredible butts showering, drying themselves, putting on deodorant or just walking around naked. I thought I was either going to die of embarrassment or the guys would swarm me. Neither happened to me. Naturally some men wrapped themselves in towels. Most didn’t. I boldly walked up to the captain of the team as he stepped out of the shower. One look at this naked hunk and I lost it. WOW!!! I blurted inadvertently taking a full view of his nudity from top to bottom. I could feel a surge of emotions that were a mixture of embarrassment and sexual arousal. I don’t remember the interview. But all I remember is that I went home that evening my stomach churning. I couldn’t sleep. All I could think of was about him. And then I found myself fantasizing. You can imagine how I relieved my pent-up sexual angst that night. Next day at work everyone wanted to know what happened. I replied that we were all very professional. But I blushed terribly, and that gave me away to everyone. . I have to confess I was waiting impatiently for the next game to get into that shower room again to meet with him again. After an excruciating wait for the game to end I rushed in the change room. And there he was. He stood completely naked before me, just as I had fantasized him every night since our first meeting. He was stepping out of the shower when I walked up to him. He must have noticed my utter confusion and turmoil raging inside me. It was a mixture of sexual arousal, and guilt at putting my emotions so obviously on display. “I thought you were supposed to be professional about your job as a reporter right?” He said. I burst into tears. He came to my rescue. “Would it help if I wrapped myself in a towel?” and smiled at me encouragingly. ‘Oh no, don’t bother ... I don’t mind” Really sister? That’s not what I read in your face. As the interview went on I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Was he getting semi erect I wonder glancing at him? I blushed and pretended to avoid looking at him below the belt line. But how could I? There were many other interviews. Sometimes I walked right into the shower area as all the men were soaping themselves. They pretended it was perfectly natural for a clothed woman to be there interviewing them as they showered. After all that’s what the courts said: we women had to have full access to the players just as the male reporters. And I should act as professionally as I could possibly. Undeniably I was falling in love or in lust whichever you prefer with one of them. Deep inside I knew I was really only there for one thing. I couldn’t care less about football or basketball or even interviewing the other players. I had to give the others also equal time not to be accused or actually found out about my feelings. Things did not progress for a while although I hoped they would. We were stuck at me interviewing him, and he completely naked answering my questions. Now you may wonder why the hell didn’t you make the first move? Do you imagine the awkwardness and embarrassment of asking a man standing naked in front of you to go for drinks? How does that sound to you: “So was it a good idea do you think to start Reggie in the line-up in the second half? And by the way would you like to go for a drink?” I thought if I dressed sexy wearing a tight leather skirt while in the locker rooms having conversation with other naked athletes, and flirting with them I was hoping that he would make a move now that he got my message that it wasn’t all about business. No, that didn’t work either. I decided to start going every morning to the college gym at 5:00 am. And that’s because he was there working out too. He recognized me the first time and gave me wink. Then the professional ice that kept us apart in the locker room between us melted and we started chatting, and in between sets we joked and laughed. We even went out for breakfast and coffee. But that was it …again. And I was tired of going home to work out alone my sexual frustrations. I would have preferred a thousand times that he would be there with me sharing my bed. Things turned around quite by accident when I made the acquaintance of Sky. She was that young woman next to me on the Stairmaster that I chatted with while exercising. I soon found out that Sky was a stripper. She invited me to come to her club to watch her, just for some fun. This is how it works. She wears nothing more than a G-string while on stage doing her routine on the pole. Afterwards she circulates among the tables offering herself to customers who get to slide their money between her cupped breasts or in the crack of her butt. Once in a while someone asked her into the VIP lounge for a private show and lap dance. I have no idea what goes on in there. All I know is that she sometimes removed her G-string if the customer was willing to pay. Sky asked me if I would dare to get on stage and stripping. I took her up on it. She taught me some moves. My first time on stage with nothing more than a G-string in full view of these men and some women too was the most erotic moment I had ever experienced. I even got to enjoy it, and came back often just for the sexual excitement of being nearly naked on stage. Surprisingly there are quite a few women who go to strip clubs. Sky walked up to me once and whispered that this woman wanted to take both of us into the VIP lounge. This would be a new experience for me. I had ever done it with another woman. I must have looked shocked because Sky took one look at me and said: “It’s no big deal really, you’ll see. Don’t worry.” I can do that I thought. It beats having to lap dance on some greasy sweaty man. I even got to enjoy it once Sky became more erotic touching me and our client. We got in the VIP lounge all three of us. The client, a middle aged woman but still stunning insisted we both removed our G-strings and she was ready to pay the extra. Sky took her off in a very manner of fact way, and I complied too, a bit bewildered at the unexpected turn of events wondering what came next. I am embarrassed to admit that after we got into it all three of us I began to get aroused and even reached an orgasm soon afterwards that left me breathless. Sky whispered: “Go girl!” seeing me getting off touching myself and our client. Well, one night he walked in with a couple of his friends. Thank god I was not stripping that evening. I just about died of embarrassment when I saw him. I thought should I try to leave before he sees me? My self-preservation instinct told me I should hide. It was too late. He smiled and came over: “Do you come often to strip joints?” Imagine how I felt when he asked me this. Did he think I was Lesbian, Oh No! Wrong message! But I am not about to tell you that I also stripped besides watching naked men in shower rooms, and by the way would you like to come back Wednesday night and see me strip? I replied that I was doing a story for my newspaper. We seemed to both enjoy this moment of conversation and obviously neither of us were about to end it. He asked me to join him and his friends. “So you’re the reporter who gets to go in the shower with the boys!” asked one ‘No” I defended myself. “I am the reporter who gets off interviewing naked men while they shower.” Then an idea began to sprout in my head. Sky was to entice him into the VIP lounge, where I would be waiting. She would blindfold him as part of the excitement of the experience. She would sit him down on the couch ready for me. And she would leave quietly. I walked in and whispered to him: ‘don’t be so nervous. We’ll have some fun.” I was more nervous than him if the truth be told. I was about to live my fantasies with him. I removed my dress and sat between his legs all the while moving my pelvis against his. Usually Sky tells her customers before she starts the rules of the house: “Now you touch my privates and my boys will pick you and throw you out in a heartbeat. I will take your hands and let you touch me. If I feel you getting hard I’ll jerk you off with the crack of my ass until you cum. So let’s get started and have some fun.” But this time she didn’t read the riot act. I looked at her inquisitively. She motioned to me that I was free to set my own rules. And I didn’t set any. Things began to get steamy. I took his hands and placed them on my breasts. Then I ran them over my entire body and down my thighs. When I reached my G-string, I helped him to remove it. I felt my insides were burning with intense arousal. I kissed him long and passionately, too passionately because when we stopped to catch our breath he said: “Who are you, you are not Sky, you can’t be Sky!” I placed my index finger on his lips: “Shush just enjoy the moment of having a beautiful naked woman in your arms.” “I have to see who you are. I just have too. Take my blindfold off.” I closed my eyes thinking this was going to be a big mistake. I should stick to my original plans. “Don’t remove the blindfold. Walk away once you made love to him. ” That was the plan. He should never know to whom he made love. This was to be my secret. Otherwise how could I ever be able to look at him straight in the eyes in that change room again? “Girl I thought to myself, you are about to break your own rule: never mix love and business.” The blindfold came off. “Allyson? I don’t believe it. I never thought in my wildest dreams…” “Are you disappointed?” I asked apprehensively. And I waited an eternity for his reply.” Please god! Make him say or do something, anything. Could he not just reach for me and take me?” I closed my eyes not wanting to suffer the humiliation. Tears began rolling down my cheeks as I started to cry quietly. I put back my dress on and just as I was about to walk away he became unfrozen and reached over to take me. We were both standing in front of a full length mirror. He was behind me. I took his arms and folded them around my waist. He buried his head in my hair and said: “Can I touch you?” I replied: “do you need to ask?” He passed his hands under my dress and caressed me from my waist down the length of my thighs. He touched me in my most intimate places as I savoured this moment. I was completely naked under my dress. He lifted it up to my waist slowly and sensually exposing my entirely naked body. Once the dress came off he turned me around and we kissed, a long searing hot kiss. I took his hands again and ran them softly down my entire body and between my thighs. “Thank you” I whispered gratefully. I kneeled down to unbutton his pants. We spoke only a few words from that moment on the rest of that night. What a night!