It's fiction, it's gay themed and if you shouldn't be reading it - because, say, you're under 18 (unlike any of the characters) or you live somewhere that frowns on it - then don't get yourself into trouble by sticking around. Everyone else, welcome aboard. It's been a long time since I wrote anything like this, more from lack of time than from motivation and ideas, but a few delayed flights and some waiting around in airports allowed me the opportunity again. Bit of a slow start, perhaps, but things get more sordid later on; I've also very obviously left things open for a part two, so there'll probably be more (and it'll probably be a whole lot more salacious, too).
Thoughts, comments and general feedback to alexp336@gmail.com - find me a writer who doesn't want to hear from their readers and I'll choke in surprise. Thanks!
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On the Poolboy Payroll - Part One
It was the usual scrabble for the right coins, and I silently cursed myself for never thinking ahead and making sure I had the exact two dollars the gym locker demanded. The membership fee was obviously enough to satisfy them I could use their shiny equipment, but not that I wouldn't monopolise a whole bank of lockers for whatever nefarious deeds their imaginations could come up with. I'd have to think on that one; I obviously wasn't quite as devious, as beyond bringing eight bags and stowing them all, I couldn't think of a single way to misuse them.
"Need some help counting there?" The voice was - obviously, considering the locker room I was in - male, and joking, but my wise-cracking response was cut short when I looked up to see who'd asked me. I knew the guy from previous workouts, though never enough to actually talk to him.
Instead, he was something of an inspiration when it came to where I'd like to be with my fitness in a few years time. Early to mid-twenties, he had not only a few years on my own 18, but a few extra layers of muscle and definition to boot. Narrow, swimmer's waist; broad shoulders and thick - but not obscenely so - arms, his chest was a Mens' Health pictorial of six pack and the rest. Crowing it all was a handsome, youthful face, dark brown hair and engaging eyes. Oh, and a smile - a great smile.
"I can count, I'm just not getting the number I need" I told him, probably blushing as I said it. I'm not saying I'd been staring at him, whenever our gym sessions overlapped, but I'll admit I kept an eye on his routine to see if I could pick up any tips and perhaps take a shortcut to his ripped body from my not-quite-lanky but certainly slimmer physique. Today he was finishing his session as I was hoping - locker pickiness notwithstanding - to start mine, and he had obviously paused mid-changing to talk to me. The pair of dark blue boxer-briefs he was sporting (and nothing else) certainly did the rest of him justice, though I took care not to stare at the European-branded waistband and healthy pouch up front.
"Short a few?" he asked, reaching into his own locker a few doors down and, I could hear, jangling some change. I grimaced.
"Ha, always - blame a junker of a car that seemed like a bargain at the time."
He grinned, giving me the nod of someone who had been there before, perhaps with his own first car. "Always something wanting money, right?" I smiled back. "Car, apartment, girlfriend..."
I could feel myself blush again. "Well, still live with my folks, and no girlfriend. Not right now. I mean, no... no girlfriend."
Let's get this straight, just because I don't have a girlfriend - have never had a girlfriend - it doesn't mean I'm not interested in girls. I mean, they're interesting and all, and pretty sometimes. I'm just waiting until I look as good as I can before I, you know, start playing the field. The girls aren't going anywhere in the meantime, that's what my dad always says.
"Okay, no girlfriend, I get it" he said, holding out his hand with a pair of dollar coins in the palm. I scooped them up and turned to the locker, stuffing my rucksack inside. "I'm Alex, by the way."
"Cooper; thanks for the loan - I'll pay you back."
He shook his head, that broad grin back on his face. "Don't worry about it, I remember being, what, 18? Yeah, always something that could do with another few bucks, right?"
"Right," I smiled, sheepishly. There was a bead of sweat picking up speed down his right pectoral, headed to the chiseled expanse of his abs, and I was trying hard to keep from staring at it. Just as it poised at the curve beneath his nipple, he brushed a hand across, flicking against the hardened nub and rubbing a thumb down, over his stomach and brushing it off against the slightly shiny blue fabric stretched across his hip. I made eye-contact again just in time to see that damned grin and, perhaps, the hint of a wink.
"Look, I have a way you could make a little extra money if you're interested, maybe get that junk-heap back on the road a bit sooner?" He ran a hand through his short, sweat-spiky hair, bicep flexing roundly. Man, I wished I could get my hair to do that: even after a half hour in front of the bathroom mirror with all the styling junk I could afford, it always ended up a messy mop of dark blonde.
"If it pays better than the couple bucks from the news store, I'm interested!" I replied, quickly. Then, a little more cautious, "what exactly would it involve?"
Now the wink was definitely there. "Nothing serious, in fact you're basically getting paid to sit around. Kinda like a lifeguard but you're never gonna get asked to save someone."
"A lifeguard?" I was confused; our town didn't have a pool, and the gym only had a jetspa and a steam room. "Where would that be? I don't have a lifeguard's licence."
"Heh, no, it's a private pool and you don't need a licence. As I said, you're not actually going to be a lifeguard. Think of it as helping set a scene - my friend just needs a couple people to hang out around the pool, make it look well-used, that sort of thing. An afternoon sitting in the sun, you make a hundred-twenty bucks and everyone is happy."
I had to admit, it sounded too good to be true. A full day heaving boxes at the news store round the corner left me thirty bucks better off at the end of my shift, hardly scratching the new fuel pump, gearbox and various other parts my dad's mechanic friend told me my frustration of a car needed.
"Where and when?"
Two days later, sun baking the asphalt and rucksack over my shoulder, the bus dumped me at the end of a long, wide street. I'd had to check online to figure out exactly what route would get me here; my family never really had much cause to end up in the upscale part of town.
It certainly put our neighbourhood to shame, and we weren't exactly living miserably. Lots of trees, no highway noise and big, private walls and sturdy looking gates. If you hated seeing other people and hated other people seeing you, this was definitely the place to have a house. I checked the scrap of paper Alex had torn from a private-training leaflet in the locker room and scrawled the address on; I had a couple houses to walk past before I reached my new employer, but thanks to the well-spaced lots that took more than five minutes.
Finally I was at the gate - the side entrance, like Alex had suggested - and hit the buzzer. Despite the crappy quality I could tell it was him who answered.
"Cooper, my man, come on in. I'll be right round."
The lock screamed and the door tipped open; I stepped through onto a bush-lined path that curved over to, and around, a wide, low, two story house far more modern than what you'd expect. Lots of glass and steel and white paint - neat stuff, though plenty of glare from the noon sun. I started out toward the house, reaching the corner just as Alex jogged round.
At first glance, I thought he hadn't bothered changing from our meeting at the gym. Shirtless, with a baseball cap half-tugged onto his head and a pair of flip-flops, the bright blue fabric stretched across his groin certainly looked like the figure-hugging boxer briefs I'd struggled to avoid staring at the previous day. After a few snatched glances, though, I realised they were a Speedo-style swimsuit, narrow at the sides and then with a full, contoured pouch at the front. A pouch that was eye-openingly full, I couldn't help but miss.
"Cooper! Good to see you, you found it okay then?" He reached out and grabbed my hand, pumping it hard. There were those biceps again. And that grin. "What do you think?"
He gestured around, but I couldn't help but think he was also asking how I thought he looked. Feeling the hot blush once again making its appearance, I made a show of looking at the minimalist house and gardens.
"Awesome, all awesome man." I wasn't sure whether his wink was down to the perceived compliment or my embarrassed reaction.
"Come on round and meet the gang, then we can get you set up and you can start earning some money!"
I followed as the path curved round the side of the building, trying not to stare at how the iridescent lycra clung across his high, full ass. Trickier said than done, given how his upper thighs and buttocks flexed with his pace.
"We'll go in and get you introduced to the boss."
Alex led me into what looked like a pool house - I could see the shimmer of water through the windows on one side and out through the other. Inside was the guy I could only assume was the boss, a tall, thin black guy in his early thirties, talking quickly into a cellphone. Alex waved toward him to get his attention; the guy cupped his hand over the mouthpiece of his phone and jerked his chin as if to ask "what's up?"
"This is the new guy" Alex explained, "Cooper. Ready for his first day on the job."
The black guy looked me up and down, frowning. "What the fuck is that?" he hissed quietly, still shielding the phone.
I had dressed for the pool, Alex's comments about lifeguards perhaps leading my color choice at least. A pair of mid-length red swimming shorts and a white vest; flip-flops on my feet and a little gel in my hair. I didn't know if I'd actually be swimming or, as Alex had hinted, just "setting the scene" around the pool area itself, so I didn't want to make too much effort and end up with a limp wet mop on top of my head. All in all I looked set for the beach, or so I'd thought: my new boss obviously thought otherwise.
"You know he's not going to go for that" the black guy scolded Alex, "get him changed." He turned away, back on his call.
Alex beckoned me out, looping an arm around my shoulders and whispering conspiratorially into my ear. "Don't worry about Tony, my friend, he just stresses out. We'll get you set up okay."
We'd stepped out of the pool house proper and into the smaller changing rooms, all wooden slat benches and a couple of matching lockers. Alex pointed to one for my bag and began rummaging in another, as I stood awkwardly wondering exactly what had fell short of meeting Tony's so-far inscrutable standards.
"Now, that red is good on you, so we'll just pick something more flattering the same color," Alex explained, turning from the locker with what looked like a scrap of material in his hand. Spreading it out - and beaming that almost perpetual grin again - I realised it was a swimsuit, only one a whole lot more form-fitting than the shorts I was currently wearing. Squarecut at the sides, made of shimmering red nylon, it was frankly something I'd never consider wearing even if it were underwear, never mind as a swimsuit in public.
"Whoa, that's... small" I stuttered, as Alex waved the suit in my direction.
"Hell yeah, Coop, you know it makes sense. I've seen you in the gym, remember, I know you can pull this off. Miles better than those baggy things you're wearing, it'll look awesome. Quit worrying and get changed!"
He tossed the swimsuit at me, and as I caught it I realised quite how soft and silky the material was, and how sparkly it was in the halogen spots of the changing room. I had to admit, I was curious. While I knew I couldn't wear something like Alex seemingly had no qualms about - his Speedo being practically an order of magnitude more revealing, and something I was still having trouble not staring at - I couldn't help wonder how the suit would feel against my skin. Something told me it would feel even nicer holding my cock than it did my fingers; I felt my groin give a little lurch at the thought.
"Okay, if you say so. Where should I change?"
Alex laughed. "Dude, we haven't got all day, just get it on and let's get poolside!"
While I was certainly used to getting changed in a public locker room, it felt somehow different when it was just another guy and I there, even if Alex and I had been getting on pretty well up until this point. Still, it didn't look like I had much choice, and I hardly wanted to make a big deal out of it when it obviously wasn't for him, so I stepped out of my flip-flops and pulled off my vest.
"We'll make a body builder of you yet, my friend" Alex laughed, making it obvious he was checking out my chest. I couldn't help but preen a little at the attention - his own physique was far more advanced. I even flexed a muscle or too, mostly jokingly, but quietly hopeful that he might be approving. "Dude, showing-off is for the pool, let's get out there so you can do it properly."
I bit the bullet and hooked my fingers into the elastic waistband of my shorts; I wasn't wearing anything underneath, relying on the sewn-in liner to keep things in place. I'd brought a simple change of clothes in my bag, just in case I'd actually ended up getting wet. Resisting the temptation to turn around from Alex's persistent appraisal, which I felt would look too obviously coy, I swivelled my hips a little so as not to be fully face-on with him, pushed my shorts down and stepped out of them. A flick of my foot kicked them up so I could grab them and dump them with the rest of my discarded clothes on the bench.
"Wasn't too hard, was it dude" Alex smiled. I wasn't exactly an exhibitionist, but I had to admit it didn't feel as weird as it could've. Thankfully I'd kept from properly boning up earlier, but my cock was a little thicker than it would regularly be. I guess I'm halfway between a grower and a shower, usually: about six or seven inches when I'm hard, and then a couple inches shorter the rest of the time. Dirty blond pubes like my hair but, beyond that - and a smudge under each arm - I'm naturally pretty smooth. It was a hot day - the beads of sweat that continued to drip down Alex's chest were evidence of that - and my balls were hanging pretty low; a decent handful if I'm in the mood to grab a hold of them. Alex made no attempt to hide his checking out my equipment, and just like I'd shied away from turning my back on him before, I didn't want to look too keen to get the swimsuit on and my cock covered up like some bashful kid. Not that I expected the suit to do much in the way of covering.
"Decent, my friend, decent" Alex told me, "now get suited up - you'll have plenty of time to swing that thing later." He chuckled and I joined in, though I wasn't completely sure what exactly the joke was.
The Speedo certainly lived up my hurried expectations: it felt totally different to anything I was used to having hug my balls! The stretchy nylon whisped against my hips, the waistband sitting low and just above the line of my pubes. Meanwhile the squared-off leg openings cut across my thighs from the base of my crotch. Certainly more coverage than Alex's skimpy choice, but - as I adjusted my cock to lay across to the left, and tugged my balls up front - equally revealing in its own way. Seeing I'd done arranging my bits and was peering down to see just how much of a show I was making of myself, Alex grabbed my shoulders and spun me round to face a full-length wall mirror behind me.
"Fucking hot, dude, total score" he praised, and I was tempted to agree. While I lacked his etched abs and slab pectorals, my narrow waist neatly tapered down into the suit and its spartan coverage not only helped my thighs look fuller but my shoulders broader too. I flicked my fingers through my hair, spiking it up again at the front. There. Just right.
"Now you're posing again" Alex chided, laughing at me. "Let's get you out there."
Guiding me by the shoulder, he led me round the corner of the changing room and out to the pool, a long curved lozenge of clear blue water. Sun loungers dotted the tiled surround, while a bar area sat underneath a couple of potted palm trees at one end. Tony had obviously taken his conversation outside; still on the phone, he again covered the microphone and nodded shortly in our direction, mouthing "better".
We were, I realised, not the only people outside. Two of the sun loungers were occupied, each with a youth I guesstimated roughly my age. One black, one asian, they each were soaking up rays and wearing nothing other than swimsuits and sunglasses.
"Brad, Cat!" Alex called out; the two boys sat up on their elbows. "Come meet our new guy." The black guy stood, stretched lithely - his arms high above his head, twined like a cat - and began to pad round the pool toward us; the asian kid was closer and quicker, jumping up from the lounger and stepping over to where Alex and I stood.
"Cooper, this is Cat" - the asian guy held out his hand, and I shook it - "and this is Brad." The black kid joined us and reached out his own hand.
"Welcome aboard" he told me, very obviously running his gaze from my eyes down my torso, down to my feet, and then back up again. "I see they've got you in uniform."
It felt like permission to, if not stare, then at least check out their swimsuits a little more closely than you might feel comfortable doing at the pool. Brad was wearing a squarecut like mine, only electric-blue rather than red, and with a dipped waistband at the front that exposed the razored stubble of his pubes. It did a good job of directing your eyes to what packed out the front, too: the very obvious curve of his cock bowing out and down, hugging the two sizeable nuggets of his balls. Overall, his build was good - certainly better than mine, though falling short of Alex's gym-honed physique. A rippled six-pack, decently curved thighs and wide, rounded shoulders. Honey-brown eyes, a reasonably slim nose and thick, full lips completed the package.
As for Cat, the Asian youth was significantly thinner than any of the rest of us, with a dramatically tapered waist that looked several inches narrower than my own 29-inches. Low on his hips rested the narrow waistband of a racing swimsuit, cream and maroon, with the number 45 just offset from the pouch and so little material involved he was practically naked. Everything Cat had - and you know the parts I'm talking about - was pushed together into one hefty bulge up front.
Mischievous eyes, thinnish lips and a button nose rounded out a grinning, cheeky face.
"I hope you're up to be worked hard?" he asked me in a somewhat accented voice, hands on hips. "I can certainly see what Alex spotted in you."
I grinned back, abashed. "Doesn't seem like I needed much in the way of skills, to be honest, just sitting around a pool as background." Cat frowned slightly, then grinned again.
"Yeah, something like that. Thing is, sometimes what's in the background grabs your attention, and then you have to step up and deliver."
I was getting confused, and seeing as how I hadn't been all that certain beforehand that didn't exactly leave me on top form.
"I'll certainly try" I told him, honestly, glancing over to where Brad stood with a knowing smile on his lips. "And the cash is a good incentive!"
"Ha!" Brad laughed, sharing a look with Alex and Cat. "Yeah, the money always opens plenty of doors."
I was saved - or at least my uncertainty distracted - when Tony strode quickly out of the main house and toward us.
"Right, guys, get moving. He's on his way."
Cat and Brad moved back to their respective sun-loungers, each draping themselves over the wooden benches as if nothing more pressing than catching a tan on their minds. Alex gently pushed me toward another lounger further round the edge of the pool, closer to the door of the pool house.
"Sit here; he's going to want to see you first."
I didn't have enough time to ask exactly who "he" was; seemingly my new boss, even though I'd thought Tony had that role. Instead I concentrated on sitting as casually as possible, trying to remember every catalog and advert pose I'd ever seen, and drape my body into as close a facsimile as I could. As a result, I probably looked more uncomfortable and out-of-place than if I'd simply dropped down onto the lounger and thought about something else entirely. Sitting forward, with my elbows resting on my knees, and I ended up hunch-backed. Leaning back, propped up on my forearms, and it looked like I was doing everything possible to draw attention to my crotch and the skimpy red swimsuit that barely covered it. Any pose in-between felt even more forced and artificial. I could feel my blush returning, was horrified to think it might be spreading across my shoulders and chest. How could sitting - something we do multiple times every day - be so difficult? Visions of losing what would probably be the easiest job I'd ever be asked to do flooded my head; if I'd bothered actually telling anyone about my new employment, they'd only laugh me out of town when they heard I couldn't actually manage such a simple task.
What with my increasing paranoia, I missed my "real" boss' entrance to the pool area. Catching sight, I immediately felt underdressed. Young - late twenties perhaps - white and medium height, slim in a pair of dark blue jeans and a black shirt with rolled-up sleeves. Barefoot, sunglasses on and messy dark hair on top; he dumped a laptop bag onto a patio table and walked over to me. Wide lips with a pronounced Cupid's bow spread out into a grin.
"Looking as uncomfortable as you do, you have to be the new guy."
It was a statement, not a question, but I still felt the need to answer him.
"Yes, um, sir, I'm Cooper. Thanks for the chance, I mean, the opportunity... Sorry, I'm not totally sure what I'm meant to be doing yet!" Yes, that was certainly the well-crafted, eloquent introduction I had wanted to make to my new employer.
He cocked an eyebrow at me, almost as if unsure whether I was joking or not. Then, bizarrely, reached out and tweaked a tuft of my messy hair, just behind my fringe at the front.
"Yeah," he smiled again, apparently convinced, "you'll do fine. Good to have you onboard, Cooper, you're looking good."
Then Tony was back, holding out another cellphone and muttering about who was on the line, and Alex was giving me a double thumbs-up from across the pool. I was beginning to think my anxieties were all unfounded, when...
"Cooper, take a dip in the pool why don't you."
I looked around to Alex again, questioning, but before I could shrug at him in confusion he called out "sure, Simon, good idea; Coop, how about we take a swim, right?" I guessed this was to be the first task in my new job - well, second if you considered the "uniform" - so padded over to the edge of the clear blue pool and dived in.
Don't get me wrong, I love swimming. When I was trying to shed the last of the puppy fat, I'd hit the swim lanes; since then, I'd been focusing more on weights to put some definition onto my frame. Still, I was happily at home in the water. What was new was the swimsuit: usually I wore swimming shorts, it never occurred to me to go skimpier than those, and the cool outdoor water was very noticeable in the tight, clinging Speedo. I could feel the ripples and eddies rush past me, sliding down my torso and across my groin and ass, the sensation almost like bubbles rushing up between your legs in a spa. I surfaced in time to see Alex scythe into the water, an enviable dive to go with his enviable physique, saw his legs kick out to propel him over to me.
The water splashed me in the face as his head popped up, both of us treading water. "Nice dive, new boy" he complimented me, glancing poolside as he said it. I followed his look, just in time to see Simon smirk his approval before turning away to Tony and the proffered phone. "Si likes his guys to look good in the water, not just in the outfits. You got bonus points already."
I had more than a few questions, and now seemed as good a time as ever - or, at least, an opportunity with Alex on his own in which to ask them. "Who exactly is Simon, and why does he want guys?"
Alex squinted at me, his expression a little like Simon's had been before, as if trying to figure out if I was playing dumb or really was asking.
"Simon is just a dude, a rich dude, hence this place. He wants guys around because he likes the way it looks - like, he's dressing the scene with stuff that looks hot."
"He thinks guys look hot?" I guess I was a little more naive than even I'd given myself credit for.
"Yeah, genius, he thinks guys look hot. He thinks I look hot, he thinks Cat and Brad look hot, and I reckon it's a pretty solid assumption that he thinks you look hot too."
I think my eyes must've bugged a little at that last part. Alex frowned.
"Look, Coop, this is just a job - but if you're not comfortable then you quit and walk out, right? No carburettor is worth feeling unhappy over, right?"
The mention of just one of the various replacement parts my bust-up car required brought me back down to earth; in my mind's eye I could see a $120 price tag hanging from it, the promise of a single day's employment taking me one step closer to mobility and freedom. All of a sudden, getting hung up on someone wanting me around simply because they thought I looked okay seemed a pretty childish reaction. I mean, hadn't I felt good when Alex was watching me get changed earlier, when he'd seemed so impressed at seeing me naked? People saw me in the gym locker room all the time - I was there often enough - so why not get paid for the privilege of doing nothing different? Sure, the swimsuit might not be my first outfit of choice but, as I again noticed the current of the water brushing against the nylon second-skin, there were certainly worse things I could be asked to wear. The dorky uniform at a fast food joint, for one.
The thought of a MacDonalds' yellow visor and 'would you like fries with that?' made my mind up for me. "No, no," I told Alex, "it's all good. Just a bit of a surprise, that's all. Does that mean Simon is, y'know...?"
"What, gay?" Alex shook his wet hair, water flicking out across the surface of the pool. "Yeah, he's gay. And with a taste for them young and hot."
"You think I'm hot?" I scoffed at him. Alex pushed me in the chest playfully, fingertips against my pecs and grazing my nipples.
"Sure, you're hot... why else do you think I picked you? Now stop fishing for complements and let's do a couple of laps."
He took off across the pool, arms curving up and over in a textbook-perfect front crawl. I could feel the points where his fingers had pressed into me, had to blink chlorine water from my eyes.
Today was turning into a mighty unexpected first day at work, certainly, but right now I had my honour as a swimmer to uphold.
Twenty laps later, it wasn't so much honour as respiration that was worrying me. It'd been a while since I'd done lengths, and I was beginning to think I'd spent too much time concentrating on muscles and not enough on general fitness. The fact that Alex kept "accidentally" knocking me sideways in the lane, either with an arm or flailing leg, didn't help, and nor did occasionally seeing Simon standing poolside watching us battle for pole position. I found myself wondering what my ass looked like from his perspective, only abandoning such theories when Alex pulled a few body-lengths ahead and I had to focus to catch up. It was no small relief when I realised he'd stopped rather than flipped to swim back the other way; our impromptu race was obviously over.
"And here was me thinking you were a swimmer" Alex teased; I brought a tired arm round to splash him.
"You only told me I had to come here and look pretty, you never said anything about competing!" I replied, attempting to grin and pant at the same time. He stuck out a tongue at me, a surprisingly childish act that made him look several years younger. I could see, again, what Simon might see in him.
"Out!"
I pulled myself over to the ladder, and began to haul my aching body out of the water. As soon as my head cleared the edge I could see that Simon was watching me, the reflective gaze of his sunglasses showing a tiny facsimile of myself. I wondered what I looked like to him, with my teenager's body and unruly hair. Water trickled down my torso; I stretched my arms up to the top of the handbars, flexing my biceps a little as I did so. I could feel the Speedos sagging low on my hips, sodden and clinging. Almost of its own accord, my cock gave a lurch - at the attention, perhaps, or the strange sensation of hugging wet nylon, maybe both. Either way, I knew I was chubbing up slightly, not a full erection, no, but a similar fluffed-out response as when Alex had watched me adjust myself in the changing room earlier.
The sunglasses meant I couldn't tell whether he was looking at my face, my chest, or my crotch as it came into view above the edge of the pool. Something told me it was probably the latter. I hadn't had a huge amount to do with gay people - not that I had a problem with them, it's just that, as far as I knew, I didn't have any gay friends or family. Having had a sheltered, though not religious upbringing, I couldn't really remember my parents saying anything about gays either way. It was just one other thing that went without mention, like jerking off or getting girls pregnant.
Simon half licked his lips, the tiniest gesture, and right then I felt very much on show. Like, perhaps, how a girl might feel at a nightclub, when her revealing dress suddenly feels far lower cut when the attention starts in earnest. Only I wasn't a girl - I was an 18 year old guy, a man in many ways, being checked out by another guy whose pool I had been swimming in, whose swimsuit I was wearing, and who was paying me to be here, on show, for his entertainment.
It was a shocking sensation, but also an illicit one, exciting; I had never looked at a guy and been attracted to him - thought he was attractive, sure, but the two were different, surely - but being so obviously appreciated for my looks touched some dormant exhibitionist streak in me. As I stepped over the top of the ladder to stand by the side of the pool, I resisted the urge to scamper away to the clutches of the nearest towel, and instead made myself stay. Legs slightly spread, arms down and held slightly away from my sides, head a little lowered but still looking up to make eye contact with Simon - if, indeed, my face was where his eyes were fixated. Rivulets of water ran off me, the sun beginning to warm as it licked across my shoulders. With each breath my stomach tensed, the bows of my ab muscles defining and relaxing.
He was smiling at me, obviously in approval, and the expression pushed me further on. I reached down with my right hand and cupped the bulge of my half-hard cock through the swimsuit, the whispy nylon feeling slick against my fingers. I could feel the firm ridge of the head under my thumb, throbbing slightly at the attention, curled my fingers under the heft of the shaft and very obviously adjusted myself. Simon nodded slowly, just slightly.
A high-pitched wolf whistle broke my reverie, and I snapped my head around to the side. Cat and Brad had moved to the same sun lounger, Brad laying out flat on a white towel - his toned black flesh bright and distinct against the fluffy white - while Cat sat astride his lap, facing down toward his feet, gently rubbing up and down his legs. Brad's hands were at Cat's waist, stroking up the Asian youth's torso and then back down again, dipping to the front and across the tiny racing suit, before making the journey up his body again. His expression was relatively blank, perhaps a little challenging, as if waiting to see what my reaction to their public display of affection might be; Cat's was far more open - he'd obviously been the one to whistle at me - with an open-mouthed grin on his face as he took in the show I had been putting on for Simon.
Their intimacy surprised me. I mean, I knew Simon was gay - Alex had just confirmed it - but I hadn't extended the thought out to consider that anyone else here might be too. Both guys looked supremely comfortable with the contact, Cat's strokes as languid and relaxed as a masseur's, while Brad's had a loving tenderness to them, a playfulness that only got baser when he was pushing his hands across the smooth curves of Cat's thighs and across his crotch. I wondered whether Cat was hard, and then realised I could see that for myself - his suit was stretched out in a way that looked almost painful, the scant material only ever designed for minimal coverage not a healthy teen erection. I then found myself wondering what Brad's hands running across my own suit might feel like, the touch of another boy against my cock and balls.
Without thinking, I'd begun gently squeezing my dick, shaping the wet nylon around the shaft and feeling it grow in my hand. I don't know if it was the casual show Cat and Brad were putting on, or the thought of another person touching me, but the mixture of attention and the unusual situation was battering through my usual reticence and leaving me feeling freer than I could ever remember being before.
A hand on my shoulder part-shocked me from my absent-minded staring, as Alex drew himself out of the pool behind me. I could feel the heat from his body against my back, feel his breath on my shoulder as he leaned forward to talk to me quietly.
"You're putting on a good show, dude, you're a natural."
I didn't know quite what to say - a natural what, show-off? - so I said nothing, only smiled in gratitude. His other hand gripped my other shoulder, and I could feel his thumbs gently massaging my neck and down to my shoulder-blades. It felt amazing. My head lolled back and to the right, exposing my neck, and Alex worked up with his hand until his thumb was tracing a curve all the way up to underneath my chin. Meanwhile, his right hand had moved down, under my arm, and was cradling my side, his long fingers stretching up across my pectoral and grazing against my nipple.
"There's only one tense muscle Simon's interested in, Coop" he whispered, and I had to grin; we both knew exactly what our employer wanted hard. He was certainly getting his way, too: my hand was still half-wrapped around my cock, now all but erect, and held lengthways by the nylon across to my hip. Occasionally I used my little finger to graze the full bulge of my balls where they'd drawn up underneath. Alex's hand, meanwhile, continued its path across my chest, first cupping my pec and squeezing gently, before running down to strum at my abs. "You trust me, don't you Coop?"
Right then, half my blood in my dick, waves of pleasure radiating out from where he massaged my neck and the flutter of his hand on my seldom-touched stomach, I would likely have said yes to anything. My family wasn't tactile, there was no girlfriend on the scene, and the end result was that I had been starved of human contact - physical contact. Someone else's hands on my body. At this point it didn't matter that the hands were another guy's, in fact that it was Alex - who I admired both for his body and his easy-going personality - felt all the more of a compliment. I didn't trust my voice, so merely murmured my agreement to his question.
In response, his massaging thumb was replaced with all four of his fingers cupping my neck, cradling the base of my skull and gently holding me still. Meanwhile the hand on my abs continued south, Alex's fingertips brushing softly against the sensitive band of skin just above the waistband of my Speedo. I shivered delightedly at the touch. Only a moment, and then he was moving again, across the wet material and - pushing aside my own hand, my arm dropping to my side - reached around to take hold of my cock.
I gasped, my body juddering. It was the first hand other than my own to touch me there, beyond my time as a baby at least, and the sensations were overwhelming. Foreign and yet perfectly natural somehow. Alex squeezed the flare of the cut head, as I'd been doing, before running his fingers back along the length of my shaft. He dipped down to cup my balls, as if weighing them in his hand, his thumb pressing carefully on the horizontal bone pushing against the fabric.
"That feel good, Coop?"
All I could do was nod, my voice had disappeared - as had any recognition of the scene around me, of the other eyes watching my arousal. Alex stepped closer to me, and I could feel his chest up against my back, the wet skin slipping and sticking where it touched. Firmness pressed against my ass, which I dimly registered must be his own cock in his narrow suit; I couldn't tell whether it was hard or soft, and with 99% of my attention centred in my groin I didn't really give it much consideration. Alex's hand left my neck - my head lolled back against his shoulder - and moved across my chest, fingers finding and pinching at my nipples, drawing out the buds to their full hardness as his other hand kneaded at my dick. There were feelings coursing through me I'd never felt before.
Sure, I'd touched myself while I was jerking off - and sure, I jerked off often enough - but when it came to the feel of your own hands versus the unpredictable touch of another person, there was really no comparison. Just as the pleasure from one teased nipple started to feel too much, he'd move on to the other, or down to pinch at my abs, or even - maybe the most incredible feeling so far - reaching down so that both hands were over my Speedo, one heaving my balls and the other pulling languidly at the top half of my cock.
"I want to get you out of this suit, Coop. I want to make you feel good without anything in the way, and I want these people to see how fucking hot you look. That sound good to you, dude?"
It wasn't much of a decision, not really. Where only a short time ago I'd been self-conscious to stand naked in front of Alex alone, now the thought of exposing myself to several more - and doing so with a full erection, no less, being worked over by another guy - seemed the obvious path to take. I murmured my agreement, and felt Alex's thumbs dipping into the waistband of my swimsuit, peeling the nylon down my hips. Without thinking I squeezed my eyes shut, as if that would make me any less visible, but that was my only meagre resistance.
He guided the suit down, pulling it out to stretch over my cock, and then giving it a final push to shift partway down my spread thighs. My dick sprang out, free at last of the elastic confines, angled close to 45-degrees from my body and the deep red head throbbing with excitement. For a moment Alex kept his fingers away, as if giving our audience - my audience - an opportunity to see what I'd been hiding, before his hands moved in again and gripped me, for the first time skin-on-skin.
The feel of his touch against my bare cock was like electricity; clichéd, yeah, but true. One hand encircled the full, plump thickness, while the other scooted fingers between my spread legs and cradled my balls in his palm, fingertips rubbing at the hardened flesh between my ass and my scrotum.
"You've got such a fucking amazing cock" he purred into my ear, quiet enough so that only I could hear him. "It feels awesome in my hand, I love how wide it is, and I love the fucking big, swollen head of it. Do you know you're oozing precum, Coop? I'm stroking your dick and there's big gobs of precum dripping out the head and all down my hand.
Do you shave your balls, Coop? They feel so smooth and soft, I just want to keep tugging on them, and playing with them. Everyone here is watching me play with your big, fat cock and your big, juicy balls, and they all want to be where I am."
I groaned, a clotted noise from the base of my throat, part animal growl and part desperation.
"Look at them, Coop. Dude, open your eyes and look at them. They're all looking at you, and they reckon you're fucking amazing."
I couldn't not do it; Alex's hands might have had my junk, but his voice seemed to have a direct wire straight into the exhibitionist part of my brain, the bit of my subconscious I hadn't even known was buried in there. Opening my eyes, I saw Simon sitting forward on his chair, sunglasses off and held limply in one hand, gaze fixed on Alex and I as my 18 year old cock was publicly milked.
Off to the side, Cat and Brad were also staring. The Asian teen had shifted forward, on his hands and knees above Brad's legs, his micro-coverage swimsuit tugged down off his ass to sit just beneath his smooth, curved cheeks. His black friend's hand was busy fondling the freshly exposed flesh; I couldn't see exactly what he was doing, but I could imagine. Fingers digging between Cat's legs to rub at his dick, tug on his balls and then play across the cheeks themselves. Was Brad finger-fucking Cat right now, dipping his long black digits into the slender teen's tight ass?
The thought made my knees half-buckle, and Alex gripped my torso with his strong, tanned arms, keeping me upright. "Let's take this to the lounger, yeah?" he whispered to me; I nodded mutely. The closest bench was a couple of paces away, and he propelled me forward toward it. I could feel his bulging swimsuit pushing against my bare ass, my own Speedo a red tangle around my upper thighs. All the time he kept his hand on my cock, his fingers playing across the bulging underside, his thumb occasionally sweeping across the sensitive, swollen head, smearing the oily precum around.
He sat astride the lounger, legs spread wide, and pulled me down to sit between them. I automatically draped myself back against his chest, his wet warmth radiating against me, my legs spread obscenely broad with my feet flat on the smooth patio tiles. Swimsuit forgotten as it tangled around my left foot. I could see, as though I was watching from some third-party vantage point, it left me blatantly open and exposed, my cock and balls centre stage to the show that Alex's ever-teasing, ever-stroking hands were putting on for the guys around us.
Looking down the flat, heaving expanse of my smooth, toned chest and stomach, I watched as he milked my dick, running his fist thumb-first down the veined length of it, palming across the insanely sensitive and throbbing glans - fatter than I could ever remember seeing it, an angry red colour with livid purple around the flared edges - and then back down, all the time tugging at my nuts. First separating them out with his thumb, rolling each tenderly around - or, at least, as much as my tightening nut-sack would allow - and then cupping them both together, squeezing them deliciously and sending waves of heady pleasure up and down my spine.
I watched as, across from us, Brad sat up behind Cat, placing the flat of his hand between the Asian teen's shoulder blades and pushing until his cheek was pressed against the bench and his back arched into the air. From my new vantage point I could now see everything I'd only imagined at before; Brad reached between his friend's thighs, into the confines of the swimsuit and pulled Cat's hard cock back and out, hooking it against the twisted lycra that stretched between his legs, and leaving the full underside of the shaft exposed. Then he dipped down, his head level with Cat's ass, and began to run his tongue from the tip of Cat's leaking dick, up, across the Asian's tight balls, and then up to his asshole. Cat's head jerked up in pleasure, eyes screwed up and mouth an almost perfect 'O', but his trapped cock meant he was locked in position and helpless to fight - as if he'd want to - Brad's teasing, persistent licks.
"Hot, aren't they Coop" Alex hissed into my ear, now squeezing the head of my dick between thumb and forefinger, watching over my shoulder as more gobs of glistening precum oozed out of the pouting slit. "Has anyone ever licked your ass, dude? I hope so, because you've got a fucking fine ass, it's just begging for some attention. Do you finger-fuck yourself, Coop, when you jerk off?" He ran a thumbnail down across my glans, and I winced. "Do you think about another guy fucking you in the ass?"
"I'm... I'm not gay" I stuttered, aware of how ridiculous that sounded given Alex's hands on my body and the live sex show I was watching mere feet away, that was adding so hugely to my arousal. And yet, in my head, I wasn't gay; at least, it wasn't something I'd ever considered before. Yes, I'd checked guys out at the gym - guys like Alex, with hard, tight bodies and workout clothes seemingly designed to get them stares - but that was just healthy, athletic competition, wasn't it? I wanted to see how my body compared to theirs, not because I wanted it pressed up against me.
But now I did have one of those bodies up against me, and it was perhaps the one I had "compared" most often. I couldn't argue against the fact that what we were doing - or what I was allowing to be done to me - was pretty gay no matter how you looked at it. And even if you said I'd been coerced, that my pent-up teenage horniness had been taken advantage of by an older guy very much aware of his charms, that didn't explain how much I wanted it to carry on, how amazing it felt and - most damningly to my self-denial - how right it all felt. I didn't know if I was gay (and thinking it through while a guy ran his fingers around my clenching, pulsing asshole, rubbing my own precum into the twitching muscle, didn't seem like quite the right time) but I knew I didn't want Alex to stop.
Cat obviously had no such qualms about his sexuality, and I could see Brad was already pushing two fingers into the boy's ass. At the same time he was rubbing his own crotch, tugging at his obviously hard dick through the shiny blue material. The low-cut waistband had pulled down to expose his pubes and, as he played with himself, sometimes the root of his thick black cock. Occasionally he would grab the shaft fully and pull it out, against the swimsuit, and I could see the pronounced ridge of his glans outlined. Glancing up, we made eye contact; he smirked and gave his cock a shake before forcefully ramming both fingers knuckle-deep into Cat's ass. The teen gasped and tried to spread his legs further, hamstrung by the tight microsuit around his thighs.
The scene - and Alex's touch - were pushing me toward the edge. The tip of his finger had begun to tease just gently into my ass, little more than a light press inwards, but it only added to the feel that my whole groin was electrified. I was panting as he fisted my cock, the veins running down the shaft angrily visible whenever his cock-drool lubed hand left them momentarily exposed.
"Flip him over." Simon's voice was quiet, but forceful; the voice of someone used to being obeyed. The hand Alex had been using to play with my ass disappeared, and I felt his arm snake around my body: using that, and his grip on my dick almost as a pivot, he twisted me on the lounger so that my legs were back where he had been leaning, raised higher than my torso and bent at the knee over the edge of the headrest.
"He likes to be in control, and he likes to see boys getting off." Alex was back to whispering at me, and I mentally clung to his calm, reassuring voice. His hand still rubbed around my dick, the hoop of his thumb and forefinger twisting around just under the head. "I promise, Coop, I'm gonna make you feel fucking amazing. Just go with it, don't fight it, and you're going to have the best cum of your life, okay?"
I couldn't quite bring myself to agree, not out loud, but I locked eyes with him and he seemed to realise that was my assent. With Alex to the side of me, I could once again see the ripped chest that had been pressed up against my back. Reaching out, I pushed the palm of my hand against his pecs, feeling the tautness of the muscles there and the point of his erect nipple. He smiled, not the knowing, over-sexed grin Brad had flashed at me, while he punched his fingers into Cat's ass, but an open, trusting expression that squeezed out any lasting barriers to my compliance.
"Now, we're going to move you up on this, so I can really make you feel good, okay dude?" I smiled back, as he tugged me - and the towel I was spread on - back on the lounger until my shoulders were hunched and my legs flailed in the air. Alex stood between my legs, looking down at me. I felt utterly exposed: from his vantage point he could see not only my hard dick and tight balls, but my precum-lubed asshole as well. As I shifted my legs, trying to find a way to comfortably keep them elevated, I knew I was also flaunting myself to him.
He reached out to grip my cock again, my nuts nuzzling up against his wrist. I could see the thick tube of his own erection, straining against the dark blue swimsuit and impressively, embarrassingly long as it snaked across to his hip. I knew then that I wanted to see it, to take it out from behind the lycra and hold it in both hands. I didn't quite know where I would go from there - just play with it, like a child with a new toy, or pull it close until it was inside my mouth? - but my palms were itching for the feel of it.
Instead, Alex pulled my dick out away from my body with one hand, stretching the joining skin taut where it met my groin, and swiped his other fingers across the head, gathering up the pearls of natural lube there. "I'm going to fuck your ass with my fingers now," he said, voice at normal volume; there could be nobody around the pool who hadn't heard his intent. "And while I do it, I'm going to jerk you off until you cum all across your face."
I tilted my head, checking my audience. Simon was still perched, unmoving, on the edge of his chair, while Tony had moved to lean in the doorway, arms crossed and watching Alex and I with an appraising look. Cat's had flipped over onto his back, and Brad was now crouched above him, his mouth hungrily devouring the Asian teenager's dick as he braced himself with one arm and thrust the other hand into his suit, obviously beating off. I looked back to Alex, who gave me a million-dollar grin and began massaging my clenching ass ring with fingers covered with my own precum.
Slowly, just as before, his fingertips pushed into me, his fist all the time rubbing up and down my tingling shaft. Soon he had a full finger into me, causing me to buck and twist against the invading digit. "Dude, so fucking tight" he muttered, almost to himself. Then it was a second finger, circling my hole initially before pushing through the resistance and burying deep inside me. Two-fingers full and I could feel the excitement mounting, the alien sensation causing my balls to churn. A long, sticky thread of prespunk spooled out from the head of my dick, wavering with each stroke of Alex's hand, until it striped across my face, a narrow streak from chin to upper-cheek.
"Lick your lips" Alex commanded, and I did it, tasting the cloying saltiness. I was eye to eye with my cock, my ass radiating full feelings of near-overwhelming pleasure, and I knew I couldn't last out much longer. "Remember, Coop, all over your face. Don't you turn away from it."
I groaned, whimpered almost, and he sped up his strokes, stretching the skin of my dick until it was shiny and taut, putting real power behind his fingers as he dug them deeper inside me. I could feel the tips nudging against my prostate - I'd done enough highschool biology to know about that tight nut in a guy's ass - making me see stars with each brush. My jaw dropped, breaths heaving, stomach clenching, the tendons in my legs jerking, until he grazed across the head of my cock with his thumb and tipped me over the edge.
My ass clenched down, hard, on his fingers, the sensitive walls twitching and shuddering, as a hard blast of cum jetted from my gaping piss-slit and battered across my face. I reflexively screwed up my eyes, feeling a second shot and a third burst against my nose, cheeks and chin. It felt like my nuts were being sucked up my dick along with them, almost painful in release. Opening my eyes, I was just in time to see another pulse of cream flop down onto me, followed by a long string joining the tip of my glans to my face. I realised some of it had ended up in my mouth, rapidly being joined by saliva as the foreign, salty juice surprised my tongue. Too frightened to close my mouth, lest I accidentally swallow, it instead lolled open, my whole face flaunting its cream coating to Alex and the other guys around me.
"Suck it down." Simon's voice broke me from my reverie; I'd pretty much known he'd want me to drink down my dick spit, but it shocked me all the same to hear it said out loud. I glanced up at Alex, grinning broadly again, his fingers pulling slowly from my ass; he nodded gently, encouragingly.
I closed my mouth, forced myself to swallow, feeling the thick, jelly-like syrup slide down my throat. It was salty, and bleachy, and I felt light headed at the knowledge of what I'd done. Then Alex's fingers were brushing at my face, smearing the lengths of cum up and toward my mouth, and I instinctively opened up and let him dip them inside.
"Lick it off my fingers, Coop" he instructed, and I did it, did it without thinking first - played my tongue around each of his digits to lap away the remnants of my own cream. He nodded again to me, approvingly. "Good show, my man, a fucking good show."
Fifteen minutes later I had showered in the pool house, alone among the rows of showerheads, Speedo back up around my waist and my cock still tingling from Alex's persistence. I felt detached, as if what had happened had all been some online video, briefly clicked on and then away. I padded out, still dripping as I pulled my vest on, my rucksack hanging from my hand.
"Good to see you, Cooper," Simon said to me, walking across the patio toward the wet bar. It was as though we'd simply hung out for an afternoon, joked about the sports on TV, rather than him instructing me as I drank down my own spunk in front of a crowd of strangers. "Hope you stop by again soon."
And then he was gone, and Tony was handing me an envelope - open, with twenty dollar bills stacked inside - and Alex was guiding me by the shoulder back toward the corner of the glistening, shiny house, back to the gate and the normal world outside.
"Oh, Cooper." Simon called out, and Alex and I looked back. "How did you get here?"
"Um, I caught the bus" I replied.
"Alex, loan him some keys will you" and that was it, he busied himself with a mini-fridge stacked high with bottles.
"Guess you made a good impression" Alex joked, as we walked past the path to the side gate and round to the garage. It was open, a row of various cars lined up. Normally I'd be paying attention to the sort of exotica on show, but I was still feeling overwhelmed and the tingle in my ass was reminding me that something out of the ordinary had gone on. Meanwhile, Alex's apparent reluctance to put on any clothes bar his swimsuit left me glancing down at the less-erect but still well packed bulge of his groin.
"Here, take these." He handed me a set of car keys, plipping the remote as I took them; a bright red MINI convertible flashed its blinkers in response. "It's a Cooper - seems kinda appropriate, right?"
I could only meet his grin with a dazed look - they wanted me to borrow a car?
"Look, drive safe and I'll see you in the gym, okay?" Alex patted me on the shoulder again, ruffled my hair. "Don't stress out, Coop, it's all good. Thanks for a great afternoon." He made a show of tugging down on his crotch, just lightly stretching things out there, but the message was still clear enough.
As I sat on the road outside, air conditioning whistling round my ears and the top down, only the steering wheel in my hands let me know that it hadn't all been some strange wet dream. I had a feeling I might wake up with regrets the next morning, but I knew - and I was excited - that I'd see Alex at the gym sometime very soon. It suddenly struck me that, no matter my reaction to what had happened, I would have to come back, if only to drop off the car. I was guessing that Simon would probably let me keep the swimsuit.
===
Okay, so that's part one. I did say it was a slowish start, but I hope there was enough filth later on to make reading it worthwhile. As I said, would love to hear comments and feedback (or just photos of you in your swimsuit - hey, you can't blame a guy for trying!) at alexp336@gmail.com. Should I write a part two?