The pool, (t/t, oral)
by einhard
PLEASE NOTE: This story is fiction from beginning to end. The characters don't exist, and the things they do, never happened.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is a sequel to "The yard". You might want to read that first.
The day that I witnessed Joe fucking Billy, I pretty much stayed hard constantly. My cock was raw from all the jerking I did, and my balls ached really bad. I shot my last load of the day at around 2 am that night, and it was pitiful. Two small drops. At least I could sleep afterwards.
Over the following days, I walked around in a sort of trance. I read my books, but didn't remember anything. I ate, watched TV, hung out with a couple of buddies, but nothing much registered. Except my buddies' bodies. It was a constant struggle not to jump them and try to fuck their brains out.
I visited the yard, too, hoping to see more of Joe and Billy, but I was out of luck. I didn't remember ever seeing them before. They had looked like they might be around 17 or 18, but they weren't in my school.
Jerking off, however, was a fresh experience. Before, I had mostly had vague images of myself plugging pussy. I had read straigt pornos and looked at pictures, but not a lot. It was mainly when somebody at school had managed to lay their hands on a magazine and showed it to me, which was no frequent occurrence.
During the last week of vacation, the heat from earlier in the summer returned, and most days I would visit an outdoor pool which was only a twenty minute bike ride away. There, I indulged my fantasies freely, because my hard-on didn't show underwater. And I always made sure I wore baggy shorts, so that I could conceal it when I left the water.
The Thursday of that week was a particularly scorching day, and I set off for the pool early. When I got there, it was practically empty, except for a party of screaming girls. And one guy. I thought I recognized him; he looked a lot like the bass player in a band that sometimes played at dance evenings in a youth club downtown. I like dancing; it's something I can do by myself, even if there are lots of people on the floor. Also, it was my only way of meeting girls. I wasn't considered cool or anything, except that I was known as a good dancer. It was kinda hot, dancing with the chicks, but it was the dancing itself that appealed to me.
Anyway, there was this musician, and I spent most of my time watching him. He was small, shorter than me, completely hairless, except for his head. I guessed he had hair in at least one more place, but I couldn't see that. He looked nice.
Eventually, of course, he noticed me looking at him, and instead of looking away, he fixed my eyes with his. I wasn't sure if it was just my imagination, but it seemed like there was heat travelling from him to me, clear across the length of the pool.
We both swam a few lengths, but didn't approach each other. Not until he left the water and headed for the locker rooms. He sent me a smoldering look, and sort of hesitated a little before he vanished through the door.
My internal debate was brief, and I, too, headed for the lockers. When I got there, he was nowhere in sight. Not in the toilet, either. Maybe the sauna? I didn't think it would be heated; it hadn't been in a couple of years. No money for that. It was still open, though, even if nobdody used it. I glanced surreptitiously through the small window in the door. Sure enough, there he was.
I dumped my trunks in the locker, hurrying to cover myself with the towel I brought. I'm not excessively shy or anything, but my boner was very plain to see. Shaking, I walked towards the sauna, trying to hold the towel away from me without being obvious. Who was I fooling? The sauna was cold, what would I be doing in there if I wasn't after sex with the guy?
He looked at me as I entered, but didn't say anything. He had a towel lying across his lap, too. I sat down opposite him, looking at the floor.
None of us made any sound for a while, apart from breathing. Then I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. He was lifting the towel off. Now what?
Yep, massive erection. And he did have hair around it; a small, blonde bush. I heaved a sigh, and he smiled, standing up. It was dominating the room now, sticking proudly out, only five feet away. His dick, I mean.
Still saying nothing, he walked the two paces over to me, sinking to his knees between my parted legs. I closed my eyes, heaving another sigh. Looking at him again, I saw him smiling widely. He tugged at my towel, and it fell away. I was sitting on it now, my own erection out in the open. He moved one hand towards it, and gently took hold of it at the base. I whimpered once.
The next moment, heat surrounded my cock. He was sucking me! And it felt so good! The heat, the friction, the excitement of where we were; giggling girls just a few feet away. Not to mention there might somebody in the lockerrom...
I wouldn't be able to hold out long. I could feel my balls rising up towards my shaft, and I had that almost thirsty feeling I get in my throat when I'm really excited.
"Ah, dude, you need to....Oh! Aah..."
I felt something warm and slimy hit my feet, and realized the guy was shooting his load. In a panic, I shoved him away from me, and began shooting my own. It landed on the bench opposite, on the floor, in his hair, on his face, his chest, the entire room seemed drenched in my cum.
Once I had recovered enough to open my eyes, I saw the guy was standing up again, smiling at me.
"That was a good one, man. Thanks! I'm Patrick." He stuck out his hand, and I took it.
"Nate", I told him.
"Nice to meet you, Nate. Maybe we could get together again sometime?"
"Sure", I croaked out, still a little dazed.
"Bye!", whispered Patrick, giving me a small peck on the cheek before he left.
I took another minute to breathe and wipe myself down, then, peeking through the little window, I made sure the locker room was empty, got dressed and took myself home. This vacation was turning into an overload. What next?
This story is copyrighted by me, einhard. (c) 2001. All rights reserved.
Any comments? Did you like the story? Hate it? You can mail me at: einhard@excite.com