When Martin got to the outside of the locker room, he was stopped by a gym teacher.
"You must be that Martin boy the main office just called over about. You're in my class. Just call me coach. We're on a wrestling unit right now, so you need a singlet. You'll have to borrow the one I was just wearing," said the burly but lean and hairy teacher, forcing a slightly sweaty singlet into Martin's hands.
"Yes, uh, thank you sir," said Martin, thrown off by being talked down to by yet another adult today.
The first bell rang, and soon other boys would be headed to the locker room to get ready for Martin's class. This senior gym class had only 18 year olds. He was glad he could stop talking to coach, because whether it was his teenage hormones or something that had been buried deeper, Martin found himself very attracted to coach. He almost couldn't stop trying to get glimpses of the man's meat sword swinging in his short shorts.
In the locker room, Martin finally worked up the courage to strip his clothes (after a couple minutes alone of smelling coach's sweat on the singlet, particularly at the crotch of it. Just then, the rest of the class arrived.
All around Martin, boys with different body types shed their clothes and changed into singlets. some of them wore briefs or jockstraps, and some of them had even been going commando. His hormone driven eyes couldn't help but steal glances, and his erection worsened. A couple guys noticed his boner and chuckled a little to themselves but didn't out him to the whole locker room.
The second bell would ring soon, meaning that they would have to go to the gym when it did. Martin stole away to a bathroom stall, pretending he needed to go, but in truth just letting his boner subside.