As Miss Williams petted the girl's soft blond head, I could see her friend's hand begin to wander between her wriggling legs and they both giggled.

"Rub my clit, you naughty little guppy", Miss Williams laughed. The swim whores started making out, tongues intertwined, wet and wild, as if they were the only two females in the pool. As I studied their disgraceful water show, it was clear they were the team's number one and number two leaders. It was a good thing the water was heavily chlorinated, otherwise the entire pool would have reeked of pussy. I was becoming more and more disgusted and enraged at their behavior, working up a lot of unique disciplinary ideas in my head that would be tailor made and designed just for them.

"Mmmmm that's it Jen, that's so fuckin good."

I listened and watched intently as the girl squeezed the supple milky white breast with her hand, sucking and tugging at the slippery nipple which fell in and out of her mouth like a juicy pacifier. My fuck buddy Janet hadn't lied about how out of control and twisted these vulnerable beautiful hetero girls had become under the sick tutelage of the lesbian coach. These girls were so naturally beautiful, it was a shame they'd become warped. No wonder the team was in a mess. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two other girls, Monica and Tiffany, who had now doggie paddled over to the shallow recessed area of the pool. Monica was sitting provocatively on the deck. With muscled, athletic legs spread wide open, not caring or noticing that I was peeping, she ground Tiff's face deep and hard into her crotch with one hand while pulling her bright yellow one-piece Olympic swim suit to the side. This action gave her friend's tongue total access to her pussy slit and bulging clit which I could see all the way across the pool. They were both fully aroused and squirming.

"Uh, Tiff, my little slave, lick me baby....make me cum like our lady coach taught us. I'll sleep good tonight if you make me cum baby. "

As I observed the way Monica controlled the girl's bobbing head, it was obvious that Tiffany was her inferior....her "bitch". I ranked all four girls in my mind, as a good coach does. Tiffany on the bottom, Monica in third place Jennifer a solid second, and the lovely but snottiest of the girls, Miss Williams, at the top of the food chain. From a coach's point of view, I despised their deviant activities, wasting their God-given swim talents and ruining their team, all in the perverted pursuit of girl/girl pussy licking and boob sucking. I had to admit, I was extremely stimulated by the girl's sexed up games, and therefore bestowed upon them the nickname "The Fab 4" because they really were good at their lesbian activities. . However, I wasn't going to reveal their fun name until they'd proven to me personally that they'd truly earned it.

I fantasized filming the hot action and posting it on the Internet, perhaps for weirdos who were into water fetishes. I'd watched enough porn to know that poolside settings were always popular - blue shimmering water splashing off tight college girl bodies - but for now, I had a far more pressing mission to accomplish. Head Mistress Janet hadn't hired me to indulge my fantasies or desires.. Not yet, anyway.

"Attention, lay-deeees! Look sharp!"

A manly voice echoed from the depths of the locker room. In the early morning hours, I used my pass key to make a reconnaissance tour of the locker room adjoining the Bristol pool and found to my disgust that it smelled of wet towels and vagina which confirmed my suspicions of the perversions lurking there. It was abundantly clear that a lesbian had sunk her mannish hands deep into the place. It stank of pussy, wet latex and soaked panties that were flung everywhere. The girls were clearly using the area as their personal pussy orgy club. The showers particularly stank of arousal. There wasn't enough soap or chlorine to cover up what was going on within the tiled stalls.

The voice wasn't quite low enough to belong to a man. That's because it belonged to butch dyke Miss Joan Monarch, a former British National backstroking has-been from the 2004 Athens Greece Olympics. In her heyday, she'd been a handsome hottie just like the desirable, fuckable girls she now coached at Bristol. Muscled legs, wide shoulders, slender waist. The perfect swimmer's body. But as she strode into view, I could see her bod had morphed into an ugly caricature of a desirable female. Legs like tree stumps, boxy wide butt, thick waist. Probably the excess male hormones or perhaps bodybuilding steroids coursing through her veins had caught up with her metabolism and she was now more male than female. Only her face retained a degree of beauty, the last remnant of female attraction she had left to seduce the cute swimmers at Bristol. Her attitude smelled of lesbian desperation. I'd seen such types many times during my career and always made it my business to stamp them out like termites before they gained a destructive foothold., particularly on the minds and bodies of budding athletes like these beautiful, promising girls. Yes, this was Coach Monarch. She had a pathetic, over the top personality that made the girls titter, which she intentionally ignored or was too stupid to notice; barking out worthless training commands while standing like Super Woman and showing off her unshaven European bush which she made no effort to hide. The curling dark hairs poked out from the crotch of her old school, slit- up- the- side Nike track shorts. I could see that she wore no panties underneath - a blatant invitation to grope.