This is the follow-up story to a young adult who joined a Master's Swim Team full of older men. If you have not read that, please check it out. This will make more sense that way.
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The Master Swim Team, Volume II
CHAPTER I - BACK TO SCHOOL
For many students, senior year of college is a mixed bag of emotions. They've loved their time at universityÑthey've made the best friends of their young lives, they're passionate about their studies for the first time, and they've finally found their independenceÑbut, as excited as they are about their last year in school, the great big unknown looms larger than ever on the horizon. Where will they be next year? Will they be gainfully employed like the allure of college promised? Will they still be in Bay City? With their friends? Or will all of them scatter like leaves on the wind, blown off to the far corners of the country, alone and truly on their own for the first time in their young lives?
These big questions bounced around in the minds of Dennis's classmates as they returned to campus for their final year of school, but with everything else he had going on, Dennis didn't have any time to really think about any of it. Ever since returning to Bay City University, his days had been filled with two-a-day swim practices, plus weights in the morning, running laps in the evening, and a strict eating regimen that had so far attempted to rectify the indulgences he'd made over the summer. For the two weeks leading up to the start of the semester, Dennis had spent every waking minute of his time worrying about swimming and, unfortunately, nothing was quite the same after his summer on the master swim team.
When Dennis had gone home at the end of the last school year, he had no idea what was waiting for him back in his hometown of Seaside. At best, he had expected a summer full of his dad harping on him for not living up to his full potential, especially in the wake of his sister Maddie's acceptance into grad school. But never in his wildest dreams had he expected someone like John Davies to come waltzing into his life, almost naked in his gratuitously revealing, neon-green speedo. The bear of a man had taken a liking to Dennis and, along with the other members of the master swim teamÑBob, Geoff, Chuck, and Coach HalÑhe had given Dennis a lesson in sexual education that put to shame anything he had learned in high school. And then, just like that, summer had ended.
The team back at school, the BCU Barracudas, was made up of some really nice guys that Dennis was lucky to call friends; but somehow, in Dennis's eyes, the young, lean, college swim team didn't quite excite him the way the older members of the master swim team had. He missed seeing their bodies, be they hairy, round, smooth, a little bit worn and saggy in all the best placesÑall of which were a far cry from the hairless, chiseled bodies of his school mates. He missed the jokes, the charm, the being the center of attention that came with being the young, attractive member of an older men's sex group. But, as much as he missed his older teammates, there was no doubt that, without the old men strutting around in their skimpy bathing suits for distraction, his swimming was back in fine form. Well . . . as much as it could be after two weeks of rigorous training.
Dennis walked out of the recreation center after his morning swim on the first day of class feeling a bit on edge. His body felt both amazing and exhausted from the vigorous exercise he'd been getting on a daily basis. It was a wonderful feeling to be fit in the prime of his life, but now that the first day of classes had arrived, anxiety about the coming semester and his future beyond schoolÑnot to mention where John would fit into said futureÑhad crashed into him like waves on the shore.
This last part had been bothering Dennis subconsciously since he had boarded that train and left John behind. Despite what he had told the old man on their last day together, Dennis wasn't certain what the future held for them. He would have loved for their summer together to continue on endlessly, living out one sexual fantasy after another as if ripped directly out of an erotic novel, but now that he was back at school, staring his future in the face, the truth was he didn't know. He didn't know what next week held for him, much less an entire school year away. Going back to Seaside would be a dream come true, but if Dennis had learned anything over the past few months, it was that the universe had unexpected things in store for himÑthings he could never imagine in his wildest dreams. Only time would tell where his story went; he just hoped John would be there when the universe saw fit to tell him about it.
As he walked through campus, he noticed the university had finally come alive. Students poured out of the matching gothic architecture-styled buildings, passing one another on the way to class; some played frisbee in the quad with friends while others chatted merrily on the steps of a building over a cup of coffee from the campus cafŽ. And best of all, there were guys everywhere!
Dennis had never realized over the summer how nice it was to have not just one person, but a whole team of men, willing to have sex with him and take the edge off whenever he needed it. Ever since returning to BCU, he had hardly had time to sleep, much less jerk one out. It was almost getting to be unbearable.
All of the men he passed made him realize that being confined to the little town of Seaside for the past few months had seriously limited the scope of his exposure to the wide world of men; being back in the big city, however, proved to be more enticing than a kid in a candy shop. There was the middle-aged, balding professor in the bulging tweed suit rushing toward him, the weight of his body shifting as he hurried by; the short and squat grandpa leisurely walking his golden retriever through campus, not giving a damn that his sweatpants were pulled so far above his waist that the crown jewels were on full display; the mustached dad-next-door taking a tour of the university with his daughter, who Dennis caught taking more than one glance at a passing co-ed's busty behind. Even the shirtless cross-country teamÑwho Dennis would normally have had no interest inÑcaught his eye, their floppy dicks bouncing up and down in their incredibly short and revealing shorts.
After a summer discovering himself sexually, Dennis found this new enlightenment both a blessing and a curse. He was torn between wanting to be loyal to John while also wanting to sample a little bit of each guy he passed. It was almost torturous, and with the way it was bottling up inside him, he was almost ready to blow. Given the chance, he would totally fuck the next person he saw!
"Earth to Dennis. Earth to Dennis!" a voice shouted.
Dennis snapped out of his thoughts of John, the swim team, and each and every man he came across, and realized he was already halfway across campus. Sitting on a bench across from the library was a young woman. Her wavy brown hair was longer than it had been when he'd last seen her, passing her shoulders and hanging low over the deep hand-cut V of her vintage Stones tee. She didn't even like The Rolling Stones; she just found the shirt at a thrift shop and dug the giant mouth of a logo. But that was Emily. Cute as a bug, nerdy as all get out, and unapologetically cheap in her fashion choices.
"Emily!" he called out, embracing his friend. His cock jumped at her touch.
"I've been calling you from across the quad. Didn't you hear me?"
"Sorry," he replied, rubbing his head with one hand as he lowered his book over his crotch. "I guess I've just got a lot on my mind."
"Like what?" she asked, cocking her head. "It's the first day of school. What could possibly be wigging you out already?"
Images of John's bulge flashed before his eyes and, for a second, he was lost. "Nothing," he shrugged, saving himself. "How was your summer?"
"Pretty standard, I'd say. My internship at The Complex went well, but it's my third one there. I think I'm a shoo-in for a job come graduation. How were things at your dad's firm?"
Shaking his head, Dennis said, "Not great."
"What?" she asked. "You were so excited for that. What happened?"
"Funding. It didn't come through. My dad's company pulled it at the last second, dropped about a dozen interns, and then I spent the first half of the summer hearing from my dad about how I didn't have an internship. It's almost like he thought his company pulling the rug out from under me was somehow my fault."
Emily looked at him in disbelief, and Dennis knew what was going on in her head. He had needed that internship. Without it, finding a job in accounting after graduation was going to be that much tougher. Places didn't just hire new graduates; everyone needed something to set them apart, something that made them better than the rest of the pool. If he couldn't even swing a summer gig at his dad's firm, what could he possibly hope for come June?
Anxiety about the future washed over him once more.
Lucky for Dennis, Emily was the kind of friend who worried about such things but didn't feel the need to tell him what he already knew. Instead, she pivoted. "Oh . . . so what did you do then?"
"I got a job at the town pool," he said casually, painfully aware that while that sounded cool, it wasn't at all cool for someone going into their senior year of college. "Spent the whole summer yelling at kids to stop running on the deck and fuÑ" He stopped himself short. He had almost added that he had spent the summer fucking his teammates. His much older teammates. Visions of John popped back into his head quicker than he could block them. Then more came of Geoff, and Chuck, and Jim, and Hal, and Bruce, and Cindy, and his dad, and everything else he had done during his summer of sexual awakening. "Fun," he continued nervously, pressing his book more firmly into his crotch. "Having fun, you know, swimming laps and keeping in shape." Sensing he was in the clear, he quickly changed the subject. "Have you seen Miguel yet?"
Emily shook her head. "Not yet. You two are rooming together again this year, right?"
"Don't we always?" Dennis asked.
Before Emily could answer, the bell rang from the chapel located in the center of campus. It was half past the hour. Dennis was late.
"Shit," he said, glancing down at his watch. "I've got Wassermann first thing. You know how he hates it when people are late."
"Go, go," she insisted. "I'll see you later. Dinner tonight in The Village?" she called after him.
"I've got swim," he yelled over his shoulder, "but I'll catch up with you after!"
There was a five-minute grace period after the chime before he was truly considered late. Dennis raced up the crisscrossing sidewalks of the quad back in the direction of the recreation center. He had been hoping to get some grub on the front end of campus before class, but his chat with Emily had made that impossible. It was a close call, but thanks in part to all of the laps he'd been running, he was able to slip into his seat just as Professor Wassermann finished writing the second "n" of his name on the chalkboard.
"All right, all right, please be seated," he said sternly, his eagle eyes scanning the classroom. "As the board says, I'm Professor Wassermann and this is Advanced Accounting. If that's not what it says on your schedule, then you're in the wrong place." Everyone looked around to see if anyone moved. Nobody did. "Now," he continued, "some of you have had me before and know that this will not be a fun course. You're expected to hand in your assignments on time, come prepared to learn, and pay attention when I'm talking. If you do those three things, there's no reason we can't learn something this semester."
Dennis had no problem following the first two instructions, but just like when he had had the professor back in his sophomore year for Intro to Accounting, he had a particularly hard time on the third point. Wassermann was in his mid-to-late sixtiesÑmost likely approaching retirementÑand, despite his less-than-welcoming teaching style, the man was rather attractive. He was an austere man, his brow frequently furrowed, as if he had long since tired of dealing with students. He had piercing baby blue eyes that could see anything and everything that happened in his classroomÑsome claimed he could even see out the back of his headÑand atop his crown was a full head of thinning, gray-white hair that wrapped its way around his wide chin in the form of a bushy beard that contrasted his tan skin. He had a strong, sturdy body with broad shoulders and a thick torso. And, much to Dennis's satisfaction, Wassermann had a proclivity for middle-of-the-road suits, which always had the tendency to part and allow his rounded abdomen to bulge forward, wrapped tightly in whatever sleek dress shirt he was wearing that day.
It was almost enough to wipe John and the future clear from Dennis's mind.
Finished with his introduction, Professor Wassermann turned back to the board and quickly scratched out THE EQUITY METHOD in his all cap handwriting before drawing a line underneath. "The Equity Method," he said, turning back to his students. "Who can tell me what it is?"
Any noise in the room immediately ceased as every student did their best to avoid the question. Only one person in the room dared make eye contact with the professor, and it was entirely by accident. In his lust-filled, zoned-out state, Dennis was caught unaware.
"Mr. Matthews," Professor Wassermann called.
Dennis snapped out of his trance and made concentrated eye contact with the old man for the first time. He could feel the warm blood rush to his cheeks as he began to blush. "Yes?"
"The Equity Method," Wassermann repeated, pointing back at the chalkboard. He raised an eyebrow inquisitively.
"Right," Dennis replied. "It's . . . it's a valuation method."
"For?" Wasserman asked in a drawn-out manner.
"For recording profits of a company when they hold significant stake in another institution. The stakeholder company reports the income proportional to the equity they have in the other."
For the slightest of seconds, Dennis thought he caught the tiniest glimpse of a smile forming in the corner of Wassermann's mouth, but it seemed so unlikely, he wouldn't've doubted if it was just his eyes playing tricks on him. "Well done, Mr. Matthews."
The blood drained from Dennis's face, and he let out a sigh of relief as Wassermann turned back to the board and wrote CONSOLIDATION. "Now, who can tell me what the difference is between what Mr. Matthews just taught us and consolidation?"
Dennis didn't wait for the answer. He was actually a pretty bright kid, but his biggest fear in class was being called on. He had lucked out that he was actually prepared this time; other times, his nerves got the best of him, and he wasn't so lucky. With his participation for the day in the books, he retreated internally once more and lost himself in the droning of Wassermann's deep voice.
Before long, class was dismissed, and Dennis found himself walking out of the building and back onto the quad. After an hour-and-a-half of lusting after Professor Wassermann, Dennis's crotch was now actively aching. He needed some relief. Bad!
Looking down at his watch, he saw that it was 11:10. His stomach gave a mighty growl; skipping breakfast had caught up to him. He decided to make a quick stop at the cafŽ in the student center to get a protein smoothie to tide him over, but the line of students also hoping to energize themselves was so long that he had to pass. Instead, he hit up the cafeteria and got the quickest thing possible: a hot dog. It wasn't on Coach Higgins's diet, but it would have to do.
When the food services woman handed him the hot dog, he groaned. It was a full six inches, wonderfully thick and round, and almost the exact shade of John's penis. While he wouldn't normally have wanted a hot dog that color, the erotic image was almost too enticing for his hormones to question. He devoured the beef frank and headed for class.
The rest of the afternoon passed much the same as the morning had. Dennis attended a Spanish class he needed to count toward his minor, and a Statistics requirement for his major. Both classes were taught by graduate students, neither of which piqued Dennis's interest like WassermannÑor even the hot dogÑdid.
By the time 5:00 pm rolled around, Dennis was tired, hungry, and about ready to explode. He had just enough time to grab a protein bar before heading back up the long path to the recreation center for his evening swim practice, his feet dragging the whole way.
The main floor of the athletic complex at BCU was rather minimal, consisting mainly of a series of walkways that overlook the fitness and weight area below. The place was full mainly with students getting in some evening exercise, but Dennis spotted a few professors and staff members there, as well.
Dennis made his way down two flights of stairs to the locker room level, and then took the winding hallway to the end where the non-sport lockers were. Even though swimming was considered a university sport, the swim team had only a small section in the rec locker room because of their need to be close to the pool. For some reason, the higher ups didn't want a bunch of speedo-clad men wandering the halls to get to the pool.
There were a few other guys there when he arrived, most looking equally as sluggish as he did. Dennis walked over to his locker and said hello to Kai, one of the sophomores on the team, whose locker was nearby. Kai was just removing his underwear. His teammate did nothing for him, but Dennis needed to see another cock. It was not something he had ever had such a strong urge for before John came into his life, but he was a different man now. After getting a good glimpse of Kai's uncut penis, Dennis pulled his shirt over his head, dropped his pants, and slipped into his red practice speedo, before heading for the showers.
It was business as usual at practice, much the same as it had been during their two weeks of intensive training. This time, however, the athletic trainer was there.
"Everybody, listen up," Coach Higgins shouted, holding firmly onto his clipboard.
Like Dennis's swim coach back home, Hal, Coach Higgins was a husky guy. In the body department, he was quite stunning. Maybe a bit more on the stocky side than Hal was, but Dennis didn't have a problem with that. Unlike Hal, however, Coach Higgins was ugly as sin. The man knew very little about swimming, as he was a lifelong hockey player that had grown fat, old, and turned to coaching as a way to keep active in the sport. Too many hits to the face had left him a little swollen in some areas. But what Higgins lacked in swim knowledge, he made up for in strength training, which was why they had been doing so much weightlifting and running.
"Today, we've got the school trainer, Ralf Wexler, here to make sure you're all up-to-date on your physicals. Ralf is going to call you each in one-by-one and give you the once over so that you're cleared to compete in next week's meet. You've all been working hard these past couple weeks, so once you're finished, you're free to go. Anybody have any questions?"
Nobody said anything.
"No? Okay, Cliff, you're up first. The rest of you, your workout is on the board."
A red-headed junior followed Ralf to the trainer's office, while the rest of the team dove into the pool and began practice.
Dennis didn't know how long he had swum before his name was called, but his arms and legs felt like nothing more than pool noodles when he finally heard it. Climbing out of the pool, he looked around and saw that the rest of the team had slowly abandoned him.
"Finally," Coach Higgins said. "You're the last one, Dennis. Here," he said, tossing Dennis a towel. "Go get checked out and then you're free to go. I'll see you first thing in the morning."
Dennis looked from his coach to Ralf. The man was tall, in his late fifties by the looks of it, and had a full head of white hair that stood up as straight and tall as the man himself. He had dark brown eyes that looked at Dennis through big, round glasses, and he wore a pastel green shirt tucked neatly into his khaki pants. Overall, he looked more like a librarian than an athletic trainer. "Right this way," Ralf said.
Gladly, Dennis thought.
Ralf led him back down the long, winding hallway to the other side of the building. His office was located right before the football and the baseball locker rooms, in a little suite that also hosted the athletic director and his secretary. The trainer ushered Dennis inside and then closed the door.
There was a desk in one corner of the office that had folders of all the members of the swim team on it; a row of cabinets on the far side was freshly stocked with any and all supplies needed to treat athletic injuries. In the center of the room, jetting out from the back wall at an angle, was an adjustable table like the ones found in a doctor's office.
"Have a seat, if you will," Ralf instructed, motioning with his hand to a chair against the wall. Dennis did as he was told, completely forgetting he was wearing nothing but his speedo, and Ralf sat down in his own chair. "Dennis, I'm going to ask you a series of questions before we get started. The whole thing should be quick and painless, I promise.
"First off," he continued, "you look to be in prime physical condition, as your teammates all are. Higgins may not know much about swimming, but he sure is capable of getting you boys in shape."
"You've got that right," Dennis replied. "Though I do miss the ability to move my arms." He made an effort to raise them, but they did little more than flop at his sides.
"Ha," Ralf laughed. "That will remedy itself in time. Do you have anything bothering you with your body?"
"Besides the arms?"
"Yes, besides the arms."
Dennis shook his head. "Not really."
"Any past or present medical condition that may interfere with your ability to swim?"
"Not that I know of."
Ralf checked a box on a form and jotted a quick note.
"Okay," he said. He grabbed a little hammer and quickly knocked Dennis in the knee. Dennis's leg kicked out. "Reflexes are good."
After checking another box, he rolled his chair over to Dennis and quickly took his vitals, first by using the blood pressure cuff, then by pressing the cold diaphragm of the stethoscope to Dennis's bare chest. Dennis winced from the cold.
"Sorry about that," he said genuinely enough. "I always forget it's not very pleasant against bare skin. And speaking about not very pleasant, this is going to be a bit bright." He shone a flashlight in Dennis's eyes and quickly checked the dilation of his pupils. "All good. Turn your head all the way to the left."
Dennis did as he was told, turning his head as far as it would go to the left.
"Okay, now to the right."
Dennis did the same, but his head didn't go quite as far.
"Are you a one-sided or two-sided breather, Dennis?"
"One," he responded.
"Left-side?"
"Yes."
"Okay, can you stand up for me?"
Dennis stood up next to Ralf so that his belly button was eye-level with the older man. "And now for everyone's favorite part," Ralf joked. "I'll make it as quick as possible, I promise. If you would drop your suit, please, I'll do a quick check for hernias."
Oh God, Dennis thought, his mind panicking at what would happen if he freed his dick from its spandex prison in front of the older man. The terror was almost enough to keep an erection at bay, but he felt a tiny jolt course through his veins and into his crotch just as he closed his eyes and pulled down the red brief.
Ralf brought his hand up under Dennis's scrotum and said, "Turn your head and cough."
Dennis turned as far as he could to the left and coughed, his dick growing a bit with the touch of Ralf's hand under his balls. The trainer pretended not to notice, but Dennis knew deep down there was no way he hadn't.
Before it could get any worse, Ralf pulled the suit back up, once again trapping Dennis's penis inside, and said, "Very good."
"That's it?"
"For that part, yes. I am a bit concerned about your neck, though. You really should be breathing on both sides. It's actually much better for balance if you try and do everything in your life with both sides. I for one, try and alternate which hand I use to brush my teeth. It's not an easy thing to do, but a little effort goes a long way."
"I'll try, I guess," Dennis said, his dick slowly shrinking back to its normal state.
"That's all I ask," Ralf said. He glanced up at the clock. "Now, I know I said I'd make this quick, but if you've got a little extra time, I can work on that right side a bit and make an adjustment for you."
Dennis thought about meeting up with Emily. It was already approaching 7:00 pm. Then he thought about how he had already had one close call with Ralf that was saved only by the trainer's professionalism. It wouldn't do him any good to ruin that good luck now. But, as much as all signs pointed toward him cutting off the meeting and hitting the showers, somehow that message got scrambled in-between his brain and his mouth. "If you think it will help," he said.
"Excellent," Ralf said with a smile. "Hop up on the table on your front, and I'll check a few things."
Dennis climbed on the table and lay face-down.
Ralf approached the side of the table near Dennis's head. "Let me know if this hurts." He put some lotion on his hand and began rubbing the muscle on the side of Dennis's neck. Pain he didn't know he had shot up the side of Dennis's neck and caused his shoulders to scrunch up. "Didn't know that was there, did you? You're tighter than I thought," Ralf said, and continued rubbing the sore spot. Then, feeling Dennis tighten again as he found a particularly tight spot, he said, "Good, now push into that pain and try and let yourself relax. Feel the tension dissolve."
Dennis pushed his muscle back against the trainer's hand and felt a significant increase in pain; but, after several seconds, he noticed it all dissipate. As Ralf continued to rub both sides of his neck, Dennis found himself relaxing more and more. And when Ralf moved away from Dennis's neck and down his arms, rubbing the weak and limp limbs, Dennis didn't say a word. Instead, he just lay there, feeling the old man's hands on his body, relishing in the wave of relaxation coming over him.
After some time, when Dennis was feeling nice and relaxed, Ralf tapped him on the side and said, "Flip over and I'll do an adjustment."
Dennis was in such as state of relaxation that he turned over without even realizing he was sporting a massive erection that was extremely visible through his red speedo.
"Oh," uttered Ralf, noticing the bulge. "Someone's feeling relaxed."
"Huh?" Dennis said, looking up at the trainer. Ralf subtly nodded down Dennis's body. Dennis followed Ralf's gaze down to his crotch, where he noticed for the first time how hard he was. "Shit," he said, covering himself up. "I'm so sorry. I didn't meanÑ"
Ralf laughed. "Don't be. It happens all the time. Besides, it's quite flattering when an old man like me has such an effect on a young guy like you."
"So I'm told," Dennis muttered. He didn't know what else to say.
"Relax," Ralf told him, and he pulled Dennis's hand away, exposing the erection once more. "All of us get them. In fact, I even know a thing or two about dealing with them. If you want, I can take care of that for you," he offered.
For as horny as he was and as attractive as he thought Ralf to be, Dennis`s first thought was of John. Should I be doing this? he wondered. The old man's goofy grin came to mind, and it was as if Dennis could see right into his blue eyes. It made him miss John more than he already did. But they had had this conversation. John didn't want Dennis to pass up any opportunities he might have just because of some fat, old man in the suburbs. "You've still got to live your life," he had told him.
The embarrassment of getting caught with an erection by the school trainer disappeared and, with a smile, Dennis gave Ralf a nod. Ralf took a few steps over to the door and twisted the lock. Grinning, he said, "Why don't you remove that speedo."
As Dennis maneuvered his way out of the speedo, Ralf pulled his shirt out from his pants and unbuttoned it. He tore it from his body, revealing a pale torso that was thin because of his height, but with just enough padding to fill him out. What little chest hair there was had turned an off-white, as if it had started its life a shade of red. Unbuckling his pants, he dropped them to the ground to reveal thin pastel green briefs that matched his shirt.
"Do you always match your underwear to your shirt?" Dennis asked, looking on in wonder. The moment had finally come.
"Not always, but my wife certainly enjoys it when I do."
"You have a wife?" Dennis asked, as Ralf dropped the briefs and revealed a five-inch, flaccid, uncut cock. His pubes were the same faded red as his chest.
"I do," Ralf replied. "But it's hard to resist a good looking, young guy every now and then when there's just so many of you around. And you swimmers are the best of the lot."
Both men now fully naked, Ralf walked back over to the table and wrapped his hand around Dennis's cock. His own cock was beginning to grow now, and his foreskin was receding. "Why don't you lay back down, and we'll finish the massage," he said.
"Front or back?" Dennis asked.
Ralf cocked his head to the side as if he were intrigued by the possibilities. "I had only planned to suck you off, but if you're up for more . . ."
Dennis shrugged his shoulders, letting himself get fully absorbed into this fantasy scenario. "Hey, you're the doctor . . ."
"The front it is."
Flipping over, Dennis pressed his hard cock against the massage table and placed his face in the hole at the top. He could hear Ralf doing something in the background, but he wasn't sure what. After a few moments, Ralf came back with a bottle of oil and something else that Dennis couldn't make out.
Ralf climbed up on top of the table, straddling Dennis, and positioned himself so that his erect cock was laying just on top of Dennis's ass cheeksÑan image of that juicy hot dog from lunch popped into Dennis's mind. Ralf then leaned forward, his own hot dog smushing evenly between Dennis's buns, and extended his arms up to Dennis's shoulders. His hands pinched the shoulders and began rubbing them, slowly massaging out Dennis's sore muscles.
After several minutes of that, he stopped for a second and then said, "Sorry in advance for this." Before Dennis had a chance to question what it was, he felt a cool liquid drizzle down the length of his crack, followed a few seconds later by the "thwack" of Ralf's cock slapping back into its place.
Resuming the massage, Ralf reached forward once more and began rubbing Dennis's neck and shoulders. He poked, he prodded, he pinched, he jabbed, and as he did so, his cock slid up and down the length of Dennis's crack. Sitting taller, Ralf then slowly inched his way down Dennis's sides, rubbing his arms and ribs as he gently gyrated his hips back and forth. Dennis could feel the old man growing harder still, his cock pressing as deep into Dennis as it could in a parallel fashion.
Once Ralf's hands had worked their way all the way back down to Dennis's butt, he grabbed the boy's bubble butt and pulled the cheeks apart, getting his first good glimpse of that tight, college hole. He let go of the cheeks and let them slam shut. Then, with his left hand, he spread the ass once more, and with his right, he grabbed his erect dick and dragged it the length of Dennis's ass, putting pressure on the hole as it passed over it.
Dennis felt his sphincter tighten as the foreign cock made its presence known. With each pass, it toyed with him, taunting and teasing his ass, but never taking the plunge. The act had a dizzying effect on Dennis, as he wanted it more than anything else in that moment.
By the time Ralf finally gave in and slid his cock fully inside Dennis, the hole was so ready for action, it devoured Ralf whole. "Whoa," Ralf moaned, amazed at how easily Dennis took him in. Dennis didn't say anything in response, he just squeezed tightly against Ralf's prick and forced him out. "Two can play at that game," Ralf said, and he shoved his rod back inside. He pulled out and shoved in again, establishing his dominance, and then leaned forward and placed his hands on Dennis's shoulders again. As he fucked, he rubbed them more, giving Dennis an all-around massage that took the young man all the way to the edge.
He had never been fucked in such a manner, face down, his hard cock rubbing against a firm surface. With every thrust deeper into his own ass, Dennis jerked forward, his own cock stroked by his own weight. It was both relaxing and rough; playful and rowdy. And before Dennis knew it, the weight of the world, the anxieties that had plagued him throughout the day, the worries of the future, the longing for John, and the desires for all those men, dissipated from within him, leaving nothing but a cloudy white mess on the maroon table.
Having finished himself, he pushed back against Ralf and took an active role in his fucking. In an effort to take back control, Ralf fell on Dennis, pushing him back against the table, and grabbed his wrists, holding him down. He grunted as he drove his cock into Dennis, getting harder with each and every thrust until he spewed his own load in the young man.
They lay there like that for a minute or two, each man spent, breathing heavily, covered in sweat. When it was time, Ralf rolled off of Dennis, planting his feet firmly on the ground, and stepped across the room to grab Dennis's towel. "Someone's had some practice at that," Ralf said, eyeing Dennis suspiciously. He handed over the towel and then began removing the condom from his dick, the end of which was sagging from Ralf's load. "Most guys that come through here are too tight to take me right away. You swallowed me up in one go."
Dennis reached behind himself and wiped the oil off his backside. His thoughts returned to his teammates back home. "I've got a whole team of guys like you back home."
"Really?" Ralf asked, intrigued.
"Let's just say, master swim teams are a bit more fun than college swim teams."
"I'll take the college boys, if it's all the same to you," Ralf replied.
"Something for everyone, I guess."
"Yes, yes. Something for everyone . . ." he trailed off, his mind lost in the action he'd just had.
Dennis walked out of the recreation center after his evening swim on the first day of class feeling good. He didn't have any clarification about what his year was going to be like; he didn't know what the future held or whether John and he would ever make it in the end; he didn't have any more answers than he did that morning. What he did know, however, was that everything was going to be all right.
The university was quiet at that time of night. A cool breeze blew past him, and he paused to look up at the night sky. The stars were bright.
His phone rang.
"Hello," he said.
"Hey, kid," John answered.
Hearing John's voice again after the long day soothed Dennis inside, and he felt a ripple of warmth course through him.
"You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice," Dennis expressed.
"First day that bad, eh?"
"It was just a bit much," Dennis admitted.
John laughed. "Too many guys for you to handle? You know you don't have to fuck them all in one day."
"It was just the one," said Dennis. The thought to hide what had happened with the trainer never crossed his mind.
"Really?" John asked excitedly. "Tell me all about it."
Dennis smiled at the old man's enthusiasm and continued his walk back to his dorm. "Well, would you believe me if I said it all started with a hot dog?"
To be continued . . .
Hello, everyone. For those of you still sticking with this story, thank you. I know I've taken a bit of a break, but hopefully I'll be able to get more of this out in a timely manner. With Dennis back at school, this part of the story will be a bit different than the first, but I promise all of the characters you know and love will return. I hope you enjoy.