SWIMMER-COACH-00 By Larry (Laetuseros@aol.com) Edited by Chipster (chipster071053@yahoo.com)
This story contains graphic sexual acts between male teens and teens and adults. If you are underage or if possession or readership of material that presents sexual relationships between two or more members of the same sex is not to your liking, or illegal where you reside, please pass over this story. This story is the property of the author and may not be distributed without written permission.
Please feel free to contact the author or editor with your thoughts. Both e-mail addresses are listed above and again at the end of the story.
(The Author recommends you read "My Journey" in the Gay/Camping section of The Nifty Archives before continuing on with this story series.)
PRELUDE TO SWIMMER-COACH
For those readers who have been following "My Journey" the first chapter of this continuation of my seventeenth year will be a bit strange. Just read through into chapter two and all will be brought into focus and make sense.
I wrote "Swimmer-Coach" before "My Journey" so when reading this first chapter readers will wonder why I was still so naive about mansex. The reason being that Chipster, my editor and friend, had asked his readers of "Camp Clover" for some first time experiences that he might write into his story.
I wrote what is included in chapter one of "Swimmer-Coach" and he thought it very hot and sexy. He talked me into writing more...and I did it just for him to read. The next thing I knew I was writing out my journey in New Mexico. We put our thoughts together and Chipster encouraged me to write for publication, "My Journey".
I have had several readers ask me to write about how I felt in leaving the ranch and parting from Ken. They knew it was painful, but they asked anyway. After some emails between us, I realized that they had also experienced depression and were really asking to make a comparison.
You wanted to know about that day we left the ranch to see if it was similar to your leaving your boy friend. I think, from what you've written, that our experience was much the same. Ken and me had slipped away from the group and wound up in the hayloft for our last hurrah. He was tender, gentle, but very insistent that we do it every way possible. He kept telling me not to forget each act with, "when you're back in Cleveland and you're laying in bed at night, remember how we did this...it will help keep our love alive!" We crept back to the campsite as the sun was rising. We went to the showers together, all the guys followed under the guise of showering one last time before boarding the train. That was nice! We dressed in fresh uniforms and went for our last big breakfast before loading the bus for the train station.
Ken hugged each of the guys, made them promise to write, not to forget what a great time they had together on the trail, to keep their friendships warm and close. I was the last and he knew I was fighting back the tears. It was a long hug and soft whispers into my ear so no one could hear him. He broke off after sucking my neck leaving a hickey to remember him with. We parted shaking hands as the last crewmember entered the bus. Mr. Glass came over and shook Ken's hand and thanked him for a great time. Wayne hustled me onto the bus and I found a window to wave from as the bus roared off for Raton. My last glimpse of Ken was his waving hand over his head and a cloud of dust rising from the roadway.
I was moody (depressed) and sat quietly, fighting back the tears. I choked out one loud sob, and Carl came over and hugged me. I think he knew it was hard for me. He started talking about things that had happened on the trip. He asked if we would have a reunion a few weeks after returning. Wayne had over heard him and said, "Well of course, you'll all be my guest, your family too! We'll see the movies, and all the snap shots and review the maps, we'll have a great time!" Carl was elated and went back to tell the others. Wayne came over to sit beside me, his hand lightly resting on my thigh, just above my knee. "You will write to Ken!" and looked at me. I nodded, but didn't say a word.
The bus pulled into Raton, and we unloaded it and stood waiting for the train to arrive. The guys hustled me into the stores and the crews fessed up the challenges with buying cokes for everyone. It was a lot of excitement and I joined in the fun and laughing
We boarded the train, and picked seats out. I noticed that my crew stayed together. Carl and Peter sat with me and we played board games and cards together. I was really sullen and I guess not much fun. Carl went off to join others, and I sat with Peter. He was sad too, leaving that stallion with Tim at the Ponil corral. He wasn't sure Tim would follow his instructions. We talked about it, and I glanced out the windows to watch the scenery roll by. Peter curled up next to me and fell asleep. Wayne came by to ask if I was all right. I nodded, "I'm okay" He noticed I had a buddy in Peter. I sighed yeah, and he's a warm body. Wayne laughed and mentioned that we'd be heading for the dining car in about an hour and that I should get the boys rotating into the bathroom to clean up and get ready. Well, that gave me something to do, so I separated myself from Peter and went to schedule my guys into the bathroom, four at a time.
When we got back from the dining car, the porters had made up sleeping berths. Little Peter asked if I wanted him to sleep in my berth, since I wouldn't have Ken to cuddle with. I smiled, and broke out crying. Peter wrapped his arms around me and told me it would be okay. Ken was still at the ranch, I would be writing him, as Peter hustled me into one of the bathroom stalls where the others wouldn't hear me crying. Peter stayed with me till I regained control. I apologized to Peter, saying, " I don't know why I cried."
He looked at me, and very seriously told me, "You love Ken, you miss him, we all know it, its okay. You two were like love birds, where one of you was at, you'd find the other there too!"
Well, that was a revelation to me. I finally acknowledge the fact that I did love Ken, and loved him deeply. And somehow I knew that I would never be able to tell him that face to face and return his love. Yeah, I was in deep depression by the time we arrived in Cleveland.
We arrived back at the Terminal Tower station in Cleveland. (It's not used for intercity trains anymore.) Everyone was greeted by family or friends. Wayne came over and asked where my parents were. I told him they didn't have a car, so I would be taking the Greyhound bus home. He shook his head and walked off.
When I got back home, my mother asked if I had had a nice time. I started telling her about things, but she wasn't listening. She told me to get my things put away and get ready to help fix dinner. Things quickly returned to normal.
I was softly sobbing my grief in bed that night. My younger brother came over and asked what was hurting me, where did it hurt. I told him to get back into his own bed and leave me alone. I guess everyone knew something was wrong, but I kept telling them it was nothing, just a let down from the trip excitement. I think I wrote to Ken every other day, expressing my missing him and expressing my love and wanting to know when he'd be leaving the ranch from home, and when would he phone. Days went by and then I received a postcard from Ken. It pictured the ranch, and he scrawled just a few lines, ending with "All my love, Ken"
Wayne invited us all over to his home in Shaker Heights. We had a wonderful reunion and everyone had made several copies of the best photos and were taking orders for other shots. We had a catered luncheon and everyone joked about the barbecued beef, or was it buffalo, the caterer wouldn't tell. When it got dark, the movies were shown. Peter's parents came over and thanked me profusely for helping Peter. They were amazed at his growth in just a month. If they only knew what that kid had done on the trail. Whew! His father was so proud of his now definitely masculine son.
After the reunion party at Advisor Wayne Glass' home, I was more dejected than ever before. I was entering deep depression. I had received a letter from the high school, asking that I get a complete physical exam prior to coming back to school...if I still intended to participate in the sports program. I had at the end of my junior year, expressed a desire to be on the swim team.
I made an appointment with our family physician, Dr. Vogel. I arrived and Mary, the doctor's nurse, took me to an exam room and told me to remove all my clothing and put on a surgical gown. The doctor would be in shortly.
I stripped off my shoes, t-shirt, jeans, and briefs. I slipped the gown on and hopped up on the exam table and waited for Doc Vogel. He came in and shook my hand and asked if I was worried. I told him, "No, why do you ask?" He proceeded to take my blood pressure, checked my ears and eyes, listened to my lungs and heart with the stethoscope as he told me my mother had called and said that I had been moody since returning from my camping trip.
He told me to get off the exam table and remove the gown. I stood naked in front of him as he brought over his stool and sat down facing me. He reached out and with both hands grasp my scrotum and spread it between his fingers. He rolled the testicles between his thumb and forefinger. "I'm checking your testicles for any lumps. If I found any it would indicate you had testicular cancer and we'd have to address that. I'm going to check for a hernia also, so turn your head and cough as I press my finger into you."
"Well, that seems okay. Just one more thing and we will be finished. I want you to turn around and lean on the exam table, then spread your legs apart and for God's sake relax! What are you nervous about?" I heard him snap the latex glove and then felt the cold application of lubricate to my anus.
"Hmmm. Your anus is unusually red. Have you been putting something into your rectum?" I stuttered that I had heard about prostate massage for health and had tried that to seek relief and squirmed as he worked his fingers deep into my orifice. I gasped as he found my prostate and started massaging it. "How does that feel?" he asked.
"Feels wonderful!" I yelped as he pushed on my nut.
He chuckled and smiling told me that he thought it would feel real good. He then cautioned me against using any sharp objects, to trim my fingernails short, to use a lot of lubricant like KY jelly or Vaseline. His hand pushed against one buttock and his two fingers were stroking in and out of my ass. I guess I was humming with pleasure and wiggling my butt.
"I think I know what your problem is and why you are so moody. Do you want to talk it over with me? It won't go any farther than this room; I won't discuss it with your mother. You have been having sex with another boy, right?" and he sat looking at me as my penis started extending itself.
"Er, ah, yes it was a guy at camp. He told me it would help me relax and..and..." I broke into tears and started sobbing. Doc put an arm around my waist and pulled me to him. I proceeded to tell him the whole story and how I felt so guilty and lonely now that I was back and no one could know my secret. He told me to get back on the exam table and we talked for an hour as I expressed my guilty feelings.
"Well, first Larry, you have done nothing wrong. Young boys experiment with first themselves and then others. Mother nature has a way with us when we grow into puberty and those hormones start changing our bodies. Your friend was right, masturbation does relieve some of the stress feelings, but so does exercise. I'm sure you will feel better once you go out and participate in sports. I'm signing your participation slip. You can participate in any sport you want. You're a fit specimen for your age. If you get depressed again, please come in and we'll talk some more. You must love this boy very much>"
"Yeah, I do. I also know I'll never see him again and that is what hurts. I feel like such a fool." I started dressing as Doc talked to me about handling those feelings I was having. He told me he was sure I would meet someone to love, male or female when I returned to school.
So taking Doc Vogel's advise, I started to get more active in Scouting and volunteering at the local park. Being busy and receiving a few postcards and two letters from Ken helped. I slowly put my sexual desires back into the recesses of my mind and slowly returned to the happy, naive teenager I was before the New Mexico trip. I made up my mind that no one would ever find out about our sexcapades.
Some of my readers will wonder why I told my swim coach that I was a virgin, knowing what when on with Ken. I had made up my mind never to let anyone know about Ken and what we had done together at the ranch. So verbally I was a virgin, but in my mind I knew differently. I was quite adept at hiding my sexual talents, those talents and techniques that Ken had so thoroughly taught me. I was only fooling myself. After the session with my swimming coach as told in Chapter One of "Swimmer-Coach" all those deep desires returned. Masturbation would no longer satisfy my lust for now I had the Coach to work my frustrations to release the pent up testosterone.
So now readers, you know the rest of the story and can continue reading about what my life was as a seventeen year old in his final year at high school. Enjoy, and feel free to send any comments to either me at [www.Laetuseros@aol.com] or to my friend and editor [Chipster071053@yahoo.com]