Author's Note: I don't think I need to be telling you that this is fiction, but it is. These characters are awfully like every other character in erotic fiction, and if they happen to resemble fantasies of mine -- well, my fantasies certainly aren't people.
If you want to email me, I'd love to hear from you. I'd even take suggestions of where the story should go. Tell me what you like, what you don't like, what you'd like to see more of. Make friends with me by email. Whatever.
Jesse's head crests the surface of the water, his blonde hair slicked back, and he dives back under for one last stroke before he reaches the poolside, his body arrowed behind him, muscles tired. He's just been doing laps upon laps to prepare for the swim meet that's coming up this weekend, but right now his work out is over, and he's got to get to class.
He pulls himself over the lip of the pool, his upper arms bulging with effort -- he's so tired that even what's normally effortless is tiring. He turns himself around and sits on the edge of the pool, his shoulders hunched over, his thighs almost touching. His dark eyes are out-of-focus, looking downward but not really focusing on anything. If they were focused, he'd be seeing tanned legs covered in faded hairs, not pale but not dark, either. He'd be seeing a Speedo that fit tightly around his legs, covering a package that at the moment is shriveled from the cold and exertion.
Jesse is torn out of his tiredness by his watch beeping -- it's ten o'clock, and he's got to get going. He brings his feet to the floor and stands, feeling just how tired he is. Fortunately, as he quickly jumps into the locker room shower and rinses off, his mind wakes up, even if his body is still worn out. The warm water pouring over his body feels good, and he enjoys the way it slips into the pouch of his swimsuit, which he's always been reluctant to take off while in the shower.
There are a few other guys in the open showers this morning, most of them nude, but Jesse ignores them both for the sake of necessity and speed as he quickly rubs soap over his body, and rinses under the water. He's gotten an erection while he was in the shower before, and that's awkward as all hell. So instead he just pulls the elastic of his swimsuit taught, letting water fall inside his swimsuit, against his penis, which is indeed shrunken in on itself. Jesse isn't going to argue -- better a small package than a hard-on.
He steps out of the shower and walks to his locker, toweling off as he goes. Reflexively, he drops his suit and rubs the towel around his ass, between his legs, and underneath his balls, which are still pulled up close to his body for warmth, hairs standing on end. He wraps the towel around his waist as he pulls out a pair of boxer-briefs, which he slides on, taking off the towel, enjoying the feeling of something dry cupping his balls. He wrings out the Speedo, and wraps it in the towel, putting both in his gym bag. That done, he dresses quickly. He pulls on tight-fitting jeans, from a women's store but that was the style so it was okay, and besides they fit well, although he really needed to wear the boxer-briefs as a result. A non-descript plaid button-down goes over his shoulders, and Jesse's ready to go, grabbing his swim bag and his shoulder bag in his hands and slamming shut the locker.
It's a long walk from the gym where the pool is to the Arts and Sciences buildings, across the engineering campus, and through the gardens, but most people are coming from the opposite direction, so Jesse makes good time. From this point, his morning goes quickly -- the morning exercise always manages to make Jesse feel more awake in the end, despite how difficult it feels at the time. He sits through a lengthy disquisition on neuroplasticity, takes five pages of notes, and eventually finds himself sitting against a stone pillar, overlooking the main quadrangle, half-heartedly attempting to read his abnormal psychology textbook while he eats his two peanut-butter sandwiches he made the night before.
The peanut butter is sticky and dry, since Jesse doesn't much like jam, but he swigs it down with lukewarm bottled water, and dazes off. He's been reading a paragraph for the third time when a voice interrupts him with a cheerful, "Howdy!"
He looks up. Standing before him is a plump young girl, bent forwards to look down at his textbook, her brown hair falling to obscure her face. Her skin's pale, where it protrudes from her flowing sundress. She flips her hair back with a movement of her head to look at him as he takes a moment to answer. "Abnormal psychology, eh?" she asks, not taking any insult from his slow response. "Could put anyone to sleep."
"Yeah," Jesse says, nodding. "How're you doing, Nina?"
She grins at him, and slides down next to him, so her back rests against the column next to his. She rests her bag on her knee, and it falls to the ground. "Alright," she says wearily, the boisterous tone gone. "About to get royally fucked by an econ exam." He grins. "No," she protests, "I'm serious, Jesse. I don't know what I did last night, but none of it was studying."
Jesse's grin changes and becomes lecherous and wide to the point where Nina can't help but smile back. "Okay," she says, "it's not all bad. But Henry isn't going to get me anywhere beyond an orgasm, whereas economics eventually will."
Jesse looks at her quizzically. "Henry? What about--"
"Yeah," she laughs. "David is past-tense, now. Henry's the one I told you about a while back."
"Yeah, exactly. I've told you about how fucking amazing climbers are, right?"
"Yeah, yeah," grinned Jesse. "They sound a lot like swimmers."
Nina laughs. "Trim bodies without too much muscle?"
"Well, no," says Jesse, "but close-shaven can be just as hot."
"Loose harness that pulls tight around your crotch?"
"Well, can you say Speedo?"
"I can," says Nina. "Speedo." She draws out the word, and Jesse laughs. "What about good taste in music and books and clothing?"
"Fine," says Jesse, "you win there. But I get to see a lot more of swimmers' bodies than you do of climbers'." He takes a bite out of his sandwich, and then amends his comment with his mouth full -- "well, of most climbers, besides Henry." He sighs, softly, and swallows.
Nina catches the sigh, of course, and says to him, "How long has it been, Jess?"
He puts her off. "Since what?"
"Since you had any sort of sexual contact with anyone?"
"Fair enough," he says. "There was one time three months ago, but the last time I actually dated someone was, oh, a year-and-a-half ago."
"We're in college!" exclaims Nina. "There's something wrong here. And you're the kind of guy anyone would want to date. Really, there's definitely something wrong if you're going so long without any dick." Jesse laughs, but Nina isn't finished. "More importantly, what's this about three months ago? I definitely didn't hear about this."
"Nothing," mutters Jesse, taking another bite of his sandwich and turning softly red under his tan. His hair is too short to fall in front of his face, or it would.
"No," protests Nina, her voice teasing. "You can't bring something like that up and then pretend it didn't happen. Who was it? Did you meet some guy online? Or was it someone from school? Do I know him?"
Jesse looks at her, considering, and then says, "Are you going to bug me until I tell you?"
Nina nods, expectant.
Jesse falls silent for a moment. He shakes his head, though, and says to her, "So how about I come climbing with you some time soon? I'll get to meet Henry, see your hot guys. You'll get to laugh at how bad I am at something."
"For once," sighs Nina. "Yeah, sounds good. And I'll find out eventually who it was, Jesse. I'll call you soon."
"Okay," says Jesse as she stands up. "And it was Brad."
She looks at him, her eyebrows raised. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah." He turns back to his book as she stares at him, and then says, "It was really hot, Nina, but he's straight. And good luck on your exam."
She wiggles her eyebrows at him, and walks away, and now he definitely can't concentrate on his book, although that's nothing to do with her and everything to do with Brad.
The shower was warm and that's all Jesse was thinking about, when there was a knock on the door, a frantic knock, and his roommate Bradley's voice came over the sound of the water: "Jesse?"
"Yeah?" Jesse asked, wringing out his washcloth, almost finished with his shower. "I'm almost done."
"I really need to piss, Jesse. Do you mind if I sneak in and piss while you're in the shower?"
Jesse tipped his head back in the water. It felt wonderful on his head. He pulled on his dick, feeling it lengthen slightly with his touch, and pulled back the foreskin one last time, the water cascading against his hand. He shook his head and answered, "No, Brad." He bent down to shut off the faucet, and added, "but I'm seriously almost done."
He swore he hadn't heard the door open or Brad walk in, so when he pulled back the curtain it was something of a shock to see Bradley standing there, his dick peeking out from his underwear, almost ready to urinate. Bradley stared at him, at least as shocked. Without meaning to, Brad's gaze traveled downwards -- down between Jesse's pecs that he'd seen so often around the apartment or at practice, down the treasure trail of dark hairs that bristled past his belly button, to the thick dick hanging past his balls. Without meaning to, Bradley gulped and looked back at Jesse's face. He tried to urinate, but he couldn't. His muscles had contracted, and to his embarrassment, his penis started to harden.
Jesse watched the feelings on Brad's face: surprise, then arousal, then embarrassment, and he just... stood there. He knew the rules of the game: he was supposed to make a joke, and grab the towel. Or, if he was feeling risky, he was supposed to say something suave, or even something lame like, "Do you want to touch it?" Instead he just stood there, dripping, his left hand still on the bath curtain. And Bradley stood at the toilet, barely a foot away, as if he was going to piss, staring at Jesse.
Finally Jesse broke the embarrassed gaze, probably only moments after it began, and his glance flickered down to Brad's cock, well past half-mast now in Brad's hand. As if it saw him looking at it, the penis jumped upwards, as a surge of blood flooded into the swollen tissues. Jesse really didn't know what to say. Water dripped down him -- beaded at his fingertips, at the tip of his dick, on his chin. To avoid meeting Brad's gaze, Jesse looked Brad over -- not as a swimmer, but as a man.
Brad's cock, as it rose, was beautiful, Jesse thought. The head was circumcised, and it seemed broader than Jesse's own. The cock was quickly approaching seven inches in length, but the shaft remained thin, much like its owner. It sprung from a bush of black hairs, which were otherwise the only hairs on Brad's body -- he shaved regularly, to gain the edge in the water. Brad's ass was tight in the flimsy briefs he was wearing, and his smooth legs were slim and muscular in calf and thigh. Above his waist, Brad was lean, more than anything else. He had cut abdominal muscles, and his chest didn't bulge at all, but spoke of coiled muscles. His hair was brown, and shorn tightly, and his eyes were brown as well, but looking at them meant Jesse was caught in his glance, again.
It was Brad who made the first move, of course. Jesse was much too shy, much too aware of the fact that he was the gay guy on the swim team, who lived with two straight guys. And besides, Brad was the one with the hard-on. There were no words spoken -- Brad just reached out slowly, and grabbed Jesse's dick, and somehow it broke the spell that had kept Jesse from becoming erect. Jesse's cock swelled, quickly, blood rushing until it had reached its full length, and to his surprise Brad gasped in awe, and squeezed slowly. Jesse moaned, and put his hand on Brad's shoulder to steady himself.
They looked at each other, and Brad stepped into the shower with Jesse, pulling his briefs down over his dick and leaving them on the floor. They turned the water back on, and Jesse let Brad take the lead, doing no more than taking Brad's dick in his own hand, feeling it throb at his touch. Brad rubbed Jesse's cock, slick still with water. He slid Jesse's foreskin back and then up again, rubbing the sensitive cock-head. He was clearly awed by the feel of Jesse's erection, and the way it slid against his hand. He liked the way the foreskin slid over it, leaving Jesse shuddering next to him.
Jesse rubbed Brad's cock, slowly, feeling the ridge of the head under the calluses of his palm, and gripped more tightly. He longed to rub Brad's chest, to kiss Brad's wet lips, but Brad's eyes were closed, his face down-turned. They faced each other in the shower, and under the thunder of the water on his back, Jesse could hear Brad moaning, softly. He stroked more slowly, reached his other hand underneath Brad's dick, and rolled Brad's balls in his hand, gently squeezing them. Brad moaned, and tightened his grip on Jesse.
With the hand not on Jesse's dick, Brad was squeezing Jesse's arm, tightly, as if Jesse was holding him up. Finally, Jesse heard and felt Brad's breath deepening and quickening, his moans becoming slightly louder. In response, Brad's hand was moving more quickly up and down Jesse's cock, sliding along his foreskin and sensuously rubbing Jesse's lower shaft. Brad's hand had loosened its grip, and was slipping over Jesse's shoulder, sliding against his skin.
Jesse took his lower hand and brought it up to squeeze Brad's nipple, feeling his own breath grow ragged. He groaned, and just as he was about to come he felt Brad's cock swell, and they both came together, with no more noise than grunts that were more animal than human. Brad's cock shot thick streams of cum that splashed against his face, first, and then as the force slowed, they landed on his hand holding Jesse's cock. Jesse, in turn, was shooting his load upwards, the first shot landing on his chest and the rest along the fine hairs of his stomach. Long after Jesse's orgasm was through, it seemed like Brad was still coming, each spasm of his cock sending a rope of cum to either land on his own arm, or to run down the side of his cock.
They stood there for a few moments in their awkward embrace -- holding each other's dicks as they subsided into flaccidity, each with a hand on the other's shoulders, and then they rinsed off and toweled dry, all without speaking. Bradley pissed into the toilet, pulled on his briefs, and left the bathroom. Jesse followed a few minutes later.
It hasn't happened again. All it had spawned were weeks' worth of masturbatory fantasies, and now this reverie.
Jesse looks up from his book. His cock is hard, snaking down the side of his leg and completely visible in his jeans. He looks at his watch, and stuffs the last quarter of his sandwich into his mouth, tossing the book into his backpack and the empty sandwich bag into the trash. He walks quickly, holding his bag over his crotch. He has a class in five minutes. And hot climbers to seduce.
That's it. If you liked it, or if you didn't, send me an email -- avatar_of_truth at yahoo dot com. Any thoughts are great.