Teen Bodybuilder -- Part 2 by Swimmboy4@aol.com

This story contains references to sexual contact between teenaged males. If you do not enjoy such stories, or it is illegal to read such stories in your jurisdiction, please do not continue reading. The following story is a work of fiction.

Teen Bodybuilder -- Part 2

Tyler and I didn't move for quite some time. Our passion spent, we were simply too exhausted to get up off the floor. Tyler rested against me, a dreamy, far-away look on his handsome face. I could smell his hair, his sweat -- his odor was so pleasing to me, so arousing. I could have stayed that way forever. But eventually, he began to stir, and looking at me, said, "Eric, I think we need to sort of clean up in here." "Yes," I said, "I guess you're right." We both stood, and I got some paper towels while he picked up his blue bikini briefs and slowly wiped the sticky fluids from his groin area. I wiped my face and shirt where his seed had spattered me, then cleaned up a few stray spots that had reached the blanket on my bed nearby, and the floor.

Something was wrong. The silence was deafening, and Tyler wouldn't look at me. He'd pulled on a pair of khaki shorts, and kept his head down, eyes downcast. I didn't know what to say, and couldn't imagine what was going through his mind. Was he angry with me? With himself? Was he overcome with emotion and unsure what was next? Was he confused, or scared, or ashamed? Oh God, what had I done?

After straightening the small room, Tyler sat on his bed and finally looked up at me, a sad expression on his face. "Eric, I...I ..um...I am ashamed of what I've done." "No, no, Tyler...it was me. I am to blame. I don't know what came over me. Touching you that way...it was wrong of me. I can't explain why I did that to you. I..I...shouldn't have...", the words of condemnation were tumbling out of my mouth fast and furious. "No Eric, I don't mean that! What we just did was, well, it was amazing, and exciting, overwhelming, and yeah, maybe a little scary. But nothing was your fault! It was me -- all me." His eyes had sparkled for just a moment, remembering our togetherness from minutes ago. But suddenly, he looked sad again. I was confused, but before I could ponder his words further, he continued. `Eric, I am so ashamed of myself -- I did to you what I've done to others since I started bodybuilding. I hate what I've done." His voice was cracking, and I was afraid he would begin sobbing at any moment. He spoke again, saying, "Do you remember what I told you at the beginning of the semester? About how no one was interested in me before my body began to take shape? How my muscles were the only reason people were attracted to me?"

I nodded my head, remembering our walk across campus on his first full day at State U. Looking at me with a serious expression, he went on: "I have felt such a strong connection to you since I met you -- I can't say what it was -- maybe the fact you are a swimmer. I guess I somehow felt closer to you because of my brother being a swimmer. Since he moved to Texas for school, I have missed him so much, you can't imagine. I guess I saw you as a temporary replacement for him. Anyway, when I would work out, I noticed how you would watch me. I started to think you were, well, how can I say this? Maybe I felt you were sort of interested in me." Then, in a whisper, he added, "Or at least in my body." His voice got stronger again as he continued: "And I wanted so much to be your friend -- I needed you to want me, or at least to want to be my friend. And...and...so I retreated back to my usual defenses -- the ones I've used since I started bodybuilding. I used my body to...well, to...well, you see...to try and win you over. I tried to seduce you with the only card I held -- my body. I...I...hoped that if you, well, if you rubbed the oil on my body, it would...well, it would make you want me more." Tyler's head was tilted down, away from where I stood above him, yet I could still discern a single tear running slowly down his cheek, and his body was gently quivering. He concluded his confession with a soft whisper: "I am so sorry, Eric. You deserved so much more from a friend than what I gave you. You said you loved me, but I tricked you into loving me, and I'm so ashamed."

I could hardly swallow, my throat was so constricted with emotion. I slowly sat down on the bed next to him, and firmly placed my arm around his shoulders. And I opened my heart to him as I'd never done to another soul in my life. "Tyler, first thing I want to say to you is that I am sorry -- I...I let my emotions overcome me, and maybe I pushed you more than I should have. To tell you the truth, what I did to you - the way I touched you -- the way I...um...the way I ... well...masturbated you...I have to admit I was motivated by two things." He looked at me, and awaited my next words. "I could tell my massaging the oil onto your body was...arousing you. I could see your cock stretching your bikini. I could hear your moans. I suddenly felt, well, I felt in control of you. Like you were mine, and I wanted that so much." Now, I was blushing -- I could feel my cheeks burning, as I continued. "I find your muscles so awe-inspiring, but intimidating as well. If we were to arm wrestle, what chance would I have? You could lift my entire body with one arm! When I saw your body reacting to my touch, I suddenly realized THERE was one muscle of yours I could control -- could dominate, if only for a few moments. I was overcome with lust, and ...and...I found myself touching you , rubbing you, in ways I'd only touched myself before." I paused, and he glanced shyly up at me. Then he said, "You said there were two reasons?" "The second," I answered, "was that I realized how much pleasure I was giving you. I may have wanted to dominate you, as I said, but not in the way people dominate someone to hurt them -- I only wanted to bring you pleasure. You must know I would NEVER do anything to hurt you." Again, he looked at me and let out a long sigh. "It did feel good -- it felt wonderful." he whispered. "Tyler, let me tell you something. You said your body was the only card you hold. Tyler, I don't know anything about poker, but however many winning hands or suits or royal flushes or whatever there are in that game, your qualities outnumber them all a thousand -- no, a million to one." He looked up at me questioningly, but I had only begun. "Tyler, sometimes you can be the most confounding, confusing guy I've ever known! Let me tell you about the hand of cards the Tyler Bradwell I know holds: He is kind and thoughtful." Tyler looked at me with a puzzled expression. "Oh, you doubt me? Well, let's look at the evidence. Just last week, when that little guy Joey from downstairs was struggling to carry that new TV he bought from the parking lot to our building, who ran out the door to help him, carrying it all the way to his room for him? And Jessica, the girl on the second floor who hurt her ankle, and couldn't manage to get her crutches up the few outside steps -- what did you do? Just picked her up in your arms and brought her inside, crutches and all! Man, she is still talking about that! And Tim or Tom or whatever his name is -- the guy down the hall who arrived on campus in that beat-up old car his family could barely afford for him, and a bunch of the guys were teasing him. While I felt sorry for him, YOU were the one who stood up and said how honored you would be to get a ride sometime! You made him feel like a million bucks! Oh, yeah, and last week at my swim practice, when you dropped by the Rec Center to watch for a few minutes, do you think nobody saw you helping our team manager setting up the exercise mats for us to do our crunches on at the far end of the pool deck? The fast sprinter on our team -- Danny -- he even commented to me `You've got such a cool roommate'. Geez, Tyler, every day you do so many little things to help others. Things that show your true personality. But enough about the kindness crap -- don't want your head to swell too much. Let's go on to caring." Another puzzled expression crossed his face.

"Remember at the beginning of school, when they held the fundraiser for hurricane relief in Florida? You were the one who went door to door in this dorm, collecting spare change for the Red Cross. You ended up with , like $90.00 or something. And take the guys who started gathering in our room to watch you work out -- they always pestered you with dumb questions about how to do this, or hold that, or what muscle, or whatever. You never got angry or annoyed, always showing them the correct way to lift, or curl, or squat. You could have tossed them out, but no, you were too nice for that! Now let's see, OK, here's another card you hold -- your enthusiasm for life! The way you take an interest in others, whether helping me with my swim training before walk-on tryouts, or the way you pursue goals -- and I mean hard goals -- you set for yourself. So many people just give up, and accept what life feeds them, but you go after what you want! Hmmm, what about your sense of fun and adventure? When the guys wanted to play some touch football games, with teams from each floor, didn't you commit to play for our 4th floor team, AND the 3rd floor, AND the 5th floor? You didn't want to say no, or hurt anyone's feelings!" Tyler smiled, then began chuckling when he remembered how he'd over-committed himself that day. He'd thought the games were between floors in his dorm and floors in the neighboring building, on different afternoons. When he got to the quad, and guys from both the 3rd and 5th floors in his dorm had simultaneously yelled, "Here he is, our star," it had almost caused a riot!

Squeezing his shoulder harder, I said, "Tyler, what I'm trying to say is this: your body is, well, it's just incredible and powerful and beautiful and amazing. And I won't pretend I'm not attracted to you on, well, a physical level. But you are so much more than some musclehead. You are as honest and kind and down-to-earth as they come, and I can only tell you how truly blessed I feel that you are in my life." Tyler turned to look at me, all sadness gone, a radiant smile on his face. "So," he muttered, "I guess maybe you do like me just a little bit?" This time it was my turn -- I grabbed his thick neck in a lock (such as my smaller arms could muster), and pulling his head down, gave him a noogie he wouldn't soon forget!

A short time later, after we'd talked some more, I was shocked when Tyler, who was seated on the edge of his bed, reached out to me as I walked past him. He clumsily reached for my belt and tried to unhook it. His hands were shaking, and I noticed a sheen of sweat on his forehead as his fingers fumbled and fumbled with the stupid thing. He gazed up at me, saying, "I..um...I wanted to do for you what you did for me. You know, return the favor." But his nerves betrayed him, and the more he fumbled with the belt, the more I realized he perhaps was not quite as ready to pursue a sexual relationship as I had been. I gently took his hands in mine, saying, "Tyler, you don't owe me anything. We don't need to rush into things. Perhaps what happened earlier was too much, too fast. You are so nervous, which means you are not sure about what you're doing. Believe me, Tyler, as much as I want you to touch me, I am more than willing to wait, because I know waiting for you will be worth it." "Really?" he asked . "I...I'm not very experienced...well, actually, I have NO experience with this. I don't want to mess up what we already have." "I don't either," I replied. "OK," he said, "we will wait...for now. But it doesn't seem right that I had all the fun tonight." "Oh, well, in all honesty Tyler, you didn't have ALL the fun! And I might as well confess something to you -- I, well...um...I had more fun than you might think. Seems I got a little too excited when I was...uh...touching you." Tyler got a wicked grin on his face and said, "Are you saying you sort of lost control?" I replied, "Actually, I blew my load in my underwear about ten seconds after I touched your...uh...private parts." Tyler burst out laughing, then gave me a high five.

Later that evening, after we'd continued to bond, it was time for bed. Both of us seemed reluctant to call it a night, yet I had 7 am practice, and Tyler had the competition the following evening. I wasn't sure what to do -- should I suggest we share one bed? Would that be too forward? I had noticed, as bed- time approached, Tyler became more fidgety, a little more nervous. We both grabbed quick showers and returned to the room. "Well, good night Tyler," I said, as I hopped into my bed, wondering what he would do or say. I didn't want to pressure him into anything, so decided to go to my own bed alone. He just stood there, between our beds, in his tight little bikini briefs, looking down at me. Then, he went and sat down on his bed. Then he got up and came over to mine. He gently pulled my blanket down, leaving me virtually exposed, clad in nothing more than the same type of Elance bikini he wore. I held my breath, not knowing what would come next. "Would it be OK, Eric, if we just laid down next to each other -- if we just maybe held each other for a little while?" "Well, sure Tyler," I said. I scooted over against the wall, trying my best to make room for him in the narrow single bed.

"Crack" went my head as it banged into the wall behind me. "Oooh, let me move my arm...", "ow, let me try to turn on my side...", "oh, oh, my hand is caught under you..." For two or three minutes, we tried to make that narrow, single bed do something it was totally not designed for -- hold two young college jocks. The end of our attempt came with a resounding "thunk", as Tyler slid off the bed and onto the floor below, cracking his tailbone hard as he landed. "Tyler, are you OK?" I yelled, peering over the edge of the bed into the semi-darkness below. "Well, I think so," he replied. "I know from reading some stories on the internet that, well, sometimes when two guys share one bed, one or both may end up with a sore ass. But I wasn't expecting this! I think I broke my butt." I burst out laughing, despite my concern for him. If he could make a joke, he couldn't be too badly hurt. "Hey, it was already defective -- I'm sure I saw a big crack in it," I answered dryly. This exchange sent the two of us into hysterical laughter -- so much so that the guy in the room next door pounded on the wall and told us to be quiet. Tyler stood up next to the small bed and said, "I think maybe someone's trying to tell us we'd better not try this!"

But I had an idea. "Let's slide our mattresses down on the floor between our beds. That way, we'll have room -- and nobody will fall and bust his butt!" Tyler agreed, and soon we had prepared a comfortable new bed big enough for the two of us. The room was fairly warm, so one light blanket was sufficient to cover us. We were soon side by side, Tyler on his back with his hands up under his head, me on my side facing him. After a few moments, he snuggled down closer to me, reached out, and cradled me in his massive arms. My head rested on his right arm, and I could feel the huge muscles pop and swell whenever he moved his arm. After some time, he spoke quietly. "Eric, you are right -- I'm not really ready to do..or to try...some of those things I've read about Is it OK if I just sleep here with you, with you close by, where I can hold you, or reach out and touch you sometimes...to know you are here?" "Of course Tyler -- I honestly can't think of anyplace I'd rather be than here next to you," I told him. Suddenly, after just a minute or two of quietly lying beside one another, Tyler jumped up and turned on the lamp on the nightstand above us. Now what, I wondered. Tyler stepped onto my side of the bed and suddenly knelt down, straddling me. His big, muscular body was virtually on top of me, as he placed his knees right next to my thighs and leaned over me. "Eric," he said softly, "is it OK if I...well, if I ..hmmm, I'm not sure how to say this." I gazed up at his handsome face, which bore a puzzled expression. "What I wanted to ask you was if I could, well, sort of explore your body?" "What do you mean?" I asked. "Well, just touch you...feel you...the way you felt me when you massaged me? I've never been this close to another guy...well, except when my brother and I shared a bed sometimes at my uncle's vacation house. Is it OK if I just look at you, and maybe touch you a little bit?" "Sure, Tyler," I answered. The goofy guy then placed his hand next to his mouth and, pretending to be an announcer, began his "exploration."

"We have Exhibit A", he intoned, "one Eric Donnelly, a male, 18 years of age, about six feet in height, perhaps 170 pounds. Hair light brown and rather shaggy, very stylish. But perhaps a little bleached by pool chemicals." As he said this, he ran his fingers through my hair softly, almost lovingly. "His face is rather handsome -- brown eyes, with slight dimples when he smiles." (At this, I had to smile myself). "His ears are perhaps slightly larger than most, but not unattractive. Strong neck, and a very lean, somewhat muscular torso." He now moved his right hand down onto my chest, gently touching my pectoral muscles, then smoothly rubbing along my abdomen. Back to my chest, where he gently prodded my rapidly hardening nipples. "Nice, strong chest, and the beginnings of a nice six-pack -- if our subject were to eliminate potato chips and chocolate chip cookies from his diet, his abs would be awesome!" "But I'd be dead of starvation," I interjected. Ignoring me, he continued, now caressing and then squeezing my arms. "Very well developed biceps and triceps -- much larger than your average collegiate male, and powerful forearms, no doubt built up by those funny flat things he sometimes swims with in his hands." "They're called paddles, Tyler, as I told you a week or so ago," I informed him. He smiled, then, while on his knees, did a double bicep pose, his cannonball arms popping out to enormous proportions. "Yeah, nice arms, but nothing like his roommate's," he crowed, while flexing and preening. My heart skipped a beat at this vision of masculine power towering above me. Then he took my right hand in his, saying, "Nice hands, very strong, and..um..very talented." I had to smile at this comment, remembering where my hands had been a short time earlier. His touching and probing had aroused me shamelessly, and my dick was stirring under the thin fabric of my small briefs, snaking toward my left hip, trapped by the waistband. I was a little embarrassed to be reacting so strongly to his exploration, but simply could not help it. Tyler was flushed, his cheeks pink with blush, enjoying his first time "exploring" a body other than his own. He shocked me when he reached down and quickly pulled the bikini waistband up, allowing my hard shaft to spring up toward my navel. He glanced down into my briefs, and commented quickly: "One male organ, nothing exceptional here." He gingerly used his fingertips to push my member back down inside the briefs and let the waistband snap back into place. I was crushed by his cold remark until he began snickering at his little joke! Proceeding further south, he squeezed and fondled my thighs, then my calves. "The subject has well developed lower limbs...in fact, his legs are very strong and attractive. Feet are rather large and well shaped." Here, he gently tickled my soles -- the only ticklish place I had, causing me to convulse with laughter for a couple seconds. Tyler completed his exam with the proclamation that, "All in all, an exceptionally fine, handsome specimen of the male gender." Then he completely stunned me by quickly bending down, and fleetingly pressing his soft lips to mine. We barely touched for a split second, yet I could feel his tenderness down to my very soul.

And with that, he reached up, snapped off the lamp, and slipped down next to me on his side of the bed. He placed his heavy, muscle-laden arm across my chest and pulled me closer. Then, he dropped his arm down by his side, and grabbed my hand in his. "Good night, Eric," he said quietly. "Good night, Ty," I responded. We settled into comfortable positions touching each other, hand in hand. I felt such contentment, such warmth. It was all so dream-like, so perfect...

But what was that light? It was so warm, and Tyler breathed softly near my ear. It was so wonderful. I turned to look at him...lying beside me on his back, his big, strong muscles at rest, a sweet look of innocence on his face. I could see him so clearly...the room seemed so light...his white bikini swelling where his large cock strained against the material...maybe it's morning? Yes, that's it -- Tyler and I both sporting morning wood, our full bladders pressing our prostates, urging our erections to their full length. Funny how a little sip of water at bedtime can cause...water...water? THE POOL! I sprang up on the mattress and saw the clock: 6:58. I had exactly two minutes to make it across campus for 7 am swim practice! Jumping up, I scared the hell out of poor Tyler, who mumbled, "What...what's the matter?" "I forgot to set the alarm last night -- I'm SO late for practice", I said as I dashed to throw on some shorts and a shirt. "Wait," Tyler said, now awake. "Your underwear!" "Oh, yeah," I said, remembering how I always put on briefs to go to practice. The bikinis were for in our room -- as I'd told Tyler, in the locker room, it was boxers, boxers, and more boxers, with maybe a pair or two of tighty-whities or boxer-briefs on the freshmen like myself. But bikini briefs? No way -- not around those guys. The same guys who strutted the pool deck in the skimpiest Speedos, Finals, TYR and Nike suits available, downsizing two sizes to squeeze into suits that exposed major crack and often a few tufts of stray pubes, well they wouldn't be caught dead in something as revealing as bikini briefs! Couldn't figure that one out to save me! But off came my bikinis, and on went some briefs. In moments, I was out the door, on my bike, heading for the pool. I ran into the Rec Center about a quarter after, hurried to my locker, and grabbed the first practice suit I found -- a somewhat worn, navy-blue Speedo. I put it on in a flash and ran up the hallway, bursting through the swinging door onto the pool deck, and flying into Coach Wilson, almost knocking him flat! He scowled at me, then looked perfunctorily at his watch. Then he scowled again as I meekly said, "Sorry coach -- I forgot to set my alarm. I'll stay late and make up what I missed. "Well, alright Donnelly," he said, "just make sure it doesn't happen again." I leapt into the cool water and began doing laps with my teammates. I'd only missed a few 100s of drop/add drills, where you alternate strokes every 25 yards. The rest of the practice was uneventful, with the usual ribbing, boasting and taunting that is a natural part of any gathering of young, healthy males in their prime. The women's team was upstairs in the weight room this morning, so the men had the pool to themselves. We swam a hard practice -- the hardest of the season so far, and I was proud that I could hold the pace, though it was a struggle for me compared to most of my teammates. I enjoyed the rhythm of swimming endlessly up and down the lanes -- watching the strong male bodies that had flip-turned ahead of me glide past me heading in the other direction. I could recognize most of the guys by the suits they wore -- sprinter Danny always in a small, tight dark green Nike suit. Pete, a big, powerful senior, was usually sporting a light blue nylon Speedo, with enough room in front to allow his ample maleness room to move. Many of the guys wore baggy drag suits, and I recognized most of them by the color suit they wore. I secretly enjoyed passing each guy in turn, often eyeing their male packages as they moved past me. Timmy, a foreign student and swimmer from Australia, was my favorite -- he wore a ridiculously small suit made by a company called Aussiebum -- his suit was blue and yellow, extremely brief, and fit his hard body like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. He'd been a surf lifesaver on a Sydney area beach since age 16, and had the muscles and eternal tan to prove it. He was only two years older than I, yet seemed so mature and worldly, and completely intriguing. Around 9, coach dismissed us, but I stayed to complete the yards I'd missed, which only took a few minutes.

As I prepared to exit the pool, I was surprised to see four of the seniors suddenly jump into the water near me, still wearing their suits. "Hey, Sport," Pete called to me. "Where are you heading?" "Well, I finished the yards I missed, so I'm done," I answered. "Well, let's just see about that." I realized the four older guys had surrounded me, and were acting a little nervous and frisky. Pete said, "You were late, and we don't take to kindly to upstart freshman scrubs coming into practice any ol' time they like. Looks like we need to teach you some respect! Get him, boys!" And just like that, they were on me. I had no chance to escape, as I well knew, so my struggles were feebler than they could have been. They pulled me under, pushed me around, all the while laughing and splashing me. Suddenly, Pete, the strongest, wrapped his arms around me and held me nearly half-way out of the water, saying, "Better take a real deep breath, scrub!" I knew the wisdom of those words, and did as instructed, just in time for him to completely flip me upside down and plunge me headfirst under the surface. Down I went, and felt many hands holding my legs straight up out of the water. Strong, tough hands were probing my abs, squeezing my sides, trying to gain a handhold on my lithe body. I was shocked to feel someone's -- or maybe a couple guys' -- hands furtively groping and squeezing my crotch area, then was even more astounded to feel my suit stripped down -- or should I say up -- my legs, leaving me naked and upside down. While they continued to hold me under, I saw Pete's light blue suit looming larger and larger. Before I knew it, he was grinding his groin into my face, mashing his semi-hard organ against my mouth and cheeks. I could swear he was thrusting it at me, time and time again, as I tried to push against his thighs to get away. Suddenly, I was free, and spinning back toward the surface for air. Away from me swam the seniors, gleefully backstroking toward the side of the pool, playfully tossing my suit back and forth, laughing and whooping it up. I tried to swim after them, but they were already on the deck and hurrying through the swinging door, carrying their trophy - my little Navy blue Speedo -- with them.

Now what was I to do? I started to hop out and run after them, then realized my naked condition. Worse yet, I could see someone standing outside the glass windows near the door to the Rec Center lobby, staring into the pool area. Then, I saw a few members of the girl's team heading across the lobby toward the pool entrance. It was now or never -- I pulled myself up on the deck, covered my groin with my hands, and scurried toward the door. Rushing past the window, I was surprised to recognize Jimmy, our dorm mate, as the guy staring into the pool -- staring at me. His jaw had dropped nearly to the floor when he saw me naked, and he stood there, transfixed. But I didn't stop -- I flew to the door to the locker room hallway -- and it wouldn't budge. Pete was on the other side blocking it -- I could see him through the small window. "Pete, let me in," I begged. But he just laughed and said "Say the magic word." "Please, please," I cried, as I heard faint giggles and saw a few of the girls now standing next to Jimmy, laughing and pointing at my bare ass. I was helpless, weakly shoving against a door that would not move. "Please, Pete, please," I said again. "I don't know the magic word." "Sure you do," he said, swinging my suit on his finger on the other side of the window. With one hand over my crotch, I shoved futilely against the door. "Come on, Pete, please let me in." Behind me, the crowd at the window was growing, and a couple girls were opening the door to enter the pool, giggling as they came. One said, "Oooh, nice tan line," as she plainly saw by naked white ass framed by the lingering summer tan I'd obtained on my summer swim team. The situation was so embarrassing, yet oddly erotic -- I could see Jimmy still staring at me, rooted where he stood. I could not believe my male organ was lengthening, hardening as I stood naked and pleading. Pete taunted me: "Come on, say the word -- you think about it every fifteen seconds!" I almost blurted out "Tyler", but thought again, and meekly said, "Sex?" "Bingo!" Pete shouted, opening the door for me as I stumbled through. Glancing down at my hard shaft swaying before me, Pete grinned and said, "Looks like you enjoyed our little game." Then he handed me my suit, took another long glance at my turgid cock, and stepped aside to allow me to walk ahead of him. He followed behind me, and I could feel his eyes hungrily eyeing my naked ass while I rushed the few steps into the locker room without bothering to don the suit. My other tormentors were almost dressed, and teased me about my "initiation", while furtively stealing glances at my still-hard penis, which would not go down despite my mental commands.

I dressed quickly, and followed the guys outside, leaving Pete alone and still in his Speedo by his locker. Andrew, a friendly guy I truly liked, turned to me and said, "You aren't too mad, are you? It's been a tradition that scrubs get stripped the first time they are late to practice." "No, I'm not mad, I guess," I responded, "I'm just really embarrassed." "Heck, you don't have anything to be embarrassed about," he said almost admiringly, then smiled at me and walked away.

Walking back across campus, Timmy suddenly came running up next to me. "Eric, I just heard what they did to you. I'm really sorry about that, but it did happen to me two years ago!" I always enjoyed talking with Timmy -- I loved his Aussie accent, and his smiling personality was a magnet for both girls and guys. "Well, I guess no harm was done," I responded. "Just a bruised ego, maybe." He said, "I've told the guys to stop that -- someday, someone is going to tell the Athletic Department, and our team will be in trouble for hazing." "I won't tell anyone, Timmy -- I would never be the one to bring sanctions down on us," I answered. "You're a good mate, Eric," he said, punching me lightly in the shoulder. Then he walked away.

When I got back to the dorm, Tyler was up and studying his math. He struggled mightily with math, and had barely passed the first quiz. I was better at the subject, and offered to help him. We sat side-by-side on his bed -- me in gym shorts and tee-shirt, Tyler in the same small, split-up-the-side shorts he'd worn on our first campus walk. He looked so GOOD in those shorts -- his bulging legs so large they forced the split apart where he sat, revealing a tantalizing peek at the sidebands of his small white bikini briefs. Being heavier than I, Tyler's body pushed his side of the bed farther down, causing me to slide into him. The feel of his strong thigh pressed against mine was so erotic, so sexual, that I was soon sporting a hard-on. "Geez, doesn't this thing take a rest?" I thought. Glancing down, I could see my own shorts had ridden up, and my bare thigh was pressing against the bikini he wore. This seemed so erotic , and a wave of desire swept over me. My shorts hid my condition for the most part -- at least Tyler never commented on it. We worked for over half an hour on some sample problems, the stubby pencil clenched in Tyler's meaty hands as he wrote and scratched out the problems on a paper resting on his book in his lap. The room was growing warm, and Tyler -- who would break into a testosterone-laden sweat almost instantly, was soon overpowering me with his manly scent - urging my rock-hard shaft to ever-greater lengths. But Tyler was so serious, so studious, that I just couldn't break the mood. He was soon grasping the formulae, and knocked out two problems very quickly. "I think I am getting the hang of this," he said jubilantly, smiling broadly at me. "You've got it Ty," I said. He grinned and said simply, "I like it when you call me Ty. My brother always calls me that."

The rest of the day was taken up with studying, napping, and a quick trip to the library. Late in the afternoon, Tyler said he needed to start getting ready for the Hot Bod contest. Stripping to his skimpy briefs, he set up his weight bench and did some hard reps. Then some crunches, flexes, squats, etc. One or two of the dorm guys came by to wish him luck, but none stayed to intrude on his "psych" time. Then he stopped his workout and went to a drawer to retrieve a razor. Holding the razor in his hand, he looked at me and asked, "Eric, could you help me shave a little?" I walked over to him and took his chin in my hand, turning his face side to side. "Dude," I said, "you look fine. This little peach fuzz won't distract anyone looking at your muscles." "Um...no," he said, "I meant help me trim my ...uh...pubes a little. My posing suit is rather low-cut, and it exposes the top of my bush. I need to trim down there a little."

I was frozen where I stood, speechless, not sure I'd understood his request. He repeated his statement about needing to trim his pubic hair, and I nearly fainted then and there. He must have seen the shock on my face, and stammered, "I mean, I...uh...guess I can do it myself. It's just that last summer my brother helped me shave down for the contest I entered, so I thought maybe you'd help me." He looked sort of embarrassed, and seemed confused by my stunned silence. I finally found my voice -- more a squeak -- and said, "Tyler, you need me to help shave your body? Your...your pubic area?" "Yes," he answered, "but I don't want to bother you with it -- I can do it myself." I guess he thought I was somehow repulsed or disgusted, but that was certainly not the case at all. "Ty...Tyler," I said, "of course I'll help you. I will be glad to do it for you." He looked questioningly at me, then said, "It's just that my brother is a swimmer -- he said all the guys on his team shave their bodies before a big meet. Since you're a swimmer, Eric, I figured you could help me. Last summer, for the contest, I really didn't have much body hair -- just a little on my legs. But my brother pointed out that my pubic hair was sprouting above the low waistband of my posing suit, so he showed me how to trim there, and he helped me do it."

"Oh, Tyler," I said, blushing furiously, "I will gladly shave you anywhere you want me to. It's just that...um...well, this is so damn hot! When I was about 14, there were two older guys on my summer swim team -- Chris and David. Twin brothers, I think 18, or maybe 17. Anyway, they were the big studs on our team -- both were ranked Top 16 in the nation in backstroke for their age group. One day before a meet, I was changing in the locker room and heard them laughing in the shower. I looked in -- they were shaving their legs. I just hid and stared at them -- rubbing shaving foam on each other, helping each other slide the blade across their chests, abs, everywhere. I...well...I got so excited, I just ...well, sort of had an accident in my Speedo." Now Tyler looked surprised, and said, "You mean you find shaving a guy's body sexy? Shit, you are a horny perv! Man, you get hot and bothered over everything! But what is sexy about it -- I don't get it," he asked. "Just lie down on your bed," I told him, as I took the razor and got a small towel and can of shaving foam. He stretched out, lying there in his tiny little virgin white briefs, with his hands under his head. I knelt beside the bed, and began to run my fingers along his abs, finding very few wispy hairs beyond his small treasure trail, but generating a few giggles from my ticklish roomie. "No, lower," he said, "down at my pubes." Then he raised his butt and slipped the bikini partway down his hips. His entire pubic bush was exposed, but his flaccid cock remained hidden, except the top one inch, pointed down into his briefs. I examined his groin closely, and said, "I can see your dimple." "What dimple?" he asked. "The little dimple at the very top of your cock, where it joins your body. There is a little dimple right there that can be seen when your dick is facing south, dude." He had never noticed this before, so I got a small mirror and held it so he could see. He grinned and nodded, then said, "But you still haven't told me what is sexy about shaving a guy?"

"I just think it is so incredibly sexy, Tyler, for a few reasons." As I spoke, I admired his trim, muscular form. He had the hard, flat lower abdomen you see on perfect male physiques. Some of the more cut, muscular swimmers I had known had such builds. When they wore skimpy, daringly low-cut racing suits, their lower abdomens were so flat and taut that their pubic bones slightly forced their suits outward at the center, just above their cocks. This would leave a tantalizing gap along the two front sides of their suits where the tight fabric did not touch their skin. Sometimes I would stand close to them and slyly peak downward, sometimes catching a glimpse of pubes or pale, shaved skin. On Tyler's abdomen, I could even see the veins where they ran vertically down from his abs toward either side of his groin area. I absent-mindedly stroked him there -- caressing along the region of his inguinal ligaments - causing him to shudder with giggles, but also to moan audibly. At first he teased me, slowly writhing his hips on the bed, groaning softly, sexily, while peeking at me through half-closed eyes, pretending (or was he?) that I was turning him on. I was totally aroused, and soon noticed a hardening of Tyler's male member, until he exclaimed, "Please, Eric, I...I have to stay focused on the contest. No playing today!" I reluctantly shook off my desire, stopped my caressing, and squirted a small patch of foam along the top of his bush and rubbed it into the short, soft, curly hairs. I was surprised -- my pubes were rather wiry and stiff, while his were far softer, fluffier. I spoke again, saying, "After I saw David and Chris, I started fantasizing about shaving a guy -- his chest, his arms, legs, and yeah, even his pubes. I guess the fact that you are stripping him -- exposing his skin -- removing the furry covering -- leaving him totally bare and raw and naked -- I find that so hot. And for you to ask me to trim your pubes -- man, Ty, it's like you are trusting me to remove the hair that every guy is so proud to grow! As though you are saying to me, `Strip me completely. Expose me. Make me bare. Remove my first and proudest sign of manhood -- my pubic hair. Return me to my boyhood.' And the fact that here I am, about two or three inches from your prized possession -- your cock -- and you trust me to be so close with this sharp blade, knowing that I would never hurt you. Just trusting me, so completely. I find this so extremely hot, so damn, fuckin' sexy. I guess that sounds pretty weird to you, huh?"

"It's just some hair, dude," he said, smiling. "Didn't mean to get you all excited!" Though he seemed to laugh it off, I could tell by his quickened breathing and semi-hard shaft that he, too, had begun to share my lustful, even perverted fascination with applying razor to young male flesh. I smiled, and got to work, slowly trimming and removing hairs along the top of his bush, down as far as he specified I should go. He was left with a small but proud patch of golden hairs, forming a small golden crown just above his cock root. Then I got a small pair of scissors and delicately trimmed the remaining hair, making it short and neat, much to his amusement. As I was finishing up, he asked me bluntly (as he couldn't see from his prone position), "Eric, are you on the bone right now?" "Tyler," I replied, "I'm hard as a rock, and leaking like Niagara Falls!" He burst out laughing, stood up, yanked up his bikini, and swatted me on the top of my head! "You're a real perv, dude!" he said, laughing again.

After a light dinner, we headed to the auditorium, arriving about one-half hour before show time. About 12 or 15 guys were there in various stages of undress, most just standing and laughing nervously, a few rubbing oil on their hard bodies. Tyler had donned his small yellow posing strap in the dorm, then put shorts on over it. Backstage, when he took off his shirt, three of the contestants hooted and whistled, and decided to drop out then and there! Dropping his shorts, he was now clad only in the very small, revealing posing strap. It bulged noticeably at the front, where his sex organ was comfortably snuggled. At this show, four more guys announced they were dropping out. Only nine guys -- most well-built in their board shorts, gym shorts, and a couple Speedos, remained. I began to smooth the glistening oil on his muscular form, rubbing it firmly into his exposed skin. No erection "popped up" now -- this was all serious, and Tyler was focused as he turned to and fro for me. I must confess that touching his incredible body -- massaging the oil into his taut skin, made me instantly aroused. I was simply not accustomed to touching a body such as this -- pure muscle, bulging with power and strength -- the epitome of male perfection. Glancing around the room, I noticed most of the other competitors had stopped their flexing and posing, and watched us with looks of awe, and even desire, on their faces. A couple of the dudes showed definite tents in the front of their shorts, as Tyler's raw sexual energy overpowered them. The girls competition was already taking place, and we could hear raucous catcalls and comments from many guys in the audience of maybe 150 people, about 2/3 male. The girls in their little bikinis had worked the audience into a frenzy, so when it was time for the men's show, no one was certain what the crowd's reaction would be. The organizers had decided to have the guys pose in reverse alphabetical order, so Tyler was last. One by one, the young college studs paraded onto the stage, flexing and clowning for their friends. One dude, in a Speedo, had a huge cheering section -- his entire fraternity house was there to cheer him on loudly, and, as it turned out, drunkenly. One obnoxious frat boy in a Delta Gamma shirt kept yelling at his brother, "Take it off! Strip off that Speedo! Show us what you've got!" Finally it was Tyler's turn -- he walked resolutely onto the stage -- and you could have heard a pin drop. The audience had never seen a physique this developed, in the living flesh. Tyler worked his lats, showed the crowd his obliques and super-cut abs, did his bicep pose, and what started as a smattering of stunned applause soon turned into a crescendo of cheers and hollers. The other contestants smiled down at the floor sheepishly, as Tyler captured the audience, heart and soul. In the second and third rows back from the stage, I could see Jimmy and several of our other dorm mates -- Tyler's group of admirers who had spent so much time in our dorm room during his workouts -- standing and cheering for their friend and icon. Even Jessica and some of her friends were there, screaming for Tyler. Everyone was cheering for him -- well, almost everyone. A couple of the drunk frat boys made catcalls and hissing sounds, yelling curses and snide remarks at Tyler. But they were drowned out by the cheers, and Tyler won the competition hands-down.

Tyler could not stop smiling, just grinning ear-to-ear as we walked across the dark campus after the show. "Oh man, that was fun, Eric. Thanks for getting me to do this." Before I could respond, three shadows moved toward us from behind a tall hedge. It was the drunken frat boy in his Delta Gamma tee-shirt and two of his buddies. I sensed trouble, but we were already hemmed against the side of a building, with no place to run. The drunk was saying, "So, you think you're hot shit? You should never have beat our frat brother -- no dorm rats EVER beat a frat boy at anything!" His speech was slightly slurred, and he kept poking his finger into Tyler's chest. Then he squeezed Tyler's hard pec and nipple through his skin-tight shirt, exclaiming, "Fuck, you've got bigger tits than a girl! I think you're a fuckin' faggot, parading around in that itsy-bitsy yellow thong." Tyler remained still, but even in the dim light I could see his eyes burning. I tried for appeasement: "Look, your frat brother was awesome! He had a lot of fans in the audience." Drunkenly glancing at me, he looked me up and down, while I stood there in my Swimming Team tee-shirt. "Who the fuck are you, swimmy boy? I'll bet I know. Your this dude's bitch!" He shoved me in the chest, repeating, "Yeah, you're his bit.." WHAM! Tyler's clenched fist flew into drunk boy's face, sending him sprawling backwards on the grass. His two buddies started to make a move, but eyeing Tyler's huge, power-packed arms, they instead stepped back, saying nothing. Tyler and I made a quick exit and hurried to our dorm, not speaking until we were inside. The incident had unnerved me, and I was shaking gently as we sat on the bed. Tyler wrapped his arm around my shoulders, comforting me without words. When he spoke, he simply said, "He can talk about me all he wants. But I won't let him talk about you, Eric." I smiled at him, and said, "I guess you're my knight in shining arm...uh, knight in a yellow posing strap!"

It was still fairly early, so we both went down to the common area with some of our friends to watch a video. Someone had picked up "Leeches" -- a horror movie about some guys on a swim team who were taking steroids. Some of the `roid enhanced swimmers were bitten by leeches, which began growing to enormous sizes, attacking the college campus. The plot and dialogue were sort of lame, but I did enjoy catching a flick with some Speedo-clad guys. During and after the movie, I saw Jimmy, but he seemed to be avoiding me. I finally cornered him, and thanked him for coming to the contest to support Tyler. He smiled and nodded, but would barely look at me. Then I remembered seeing him at the pool window that morning -- he was embarrassed for seeing me naked! That had to be it! So I said, "Jimmy, I saw you at the pool this morning. Do you come by to watch our practices often?" "Well, yeah, sometimes," he answered shyly. "Dude," I said, "if you're so interested in our team, maybe you should talk to our coach about becoming our team manager." "What's that?" he asked. "It's someone who helps our team with stuff -- like setting up equipment, straightening our locker room, mixing Gatorade for us, working at our home meets. Stuff like that. And I think they pay for your textbooks -- not a scholarship, but it helps."

Jimmy looked at me excitedly and said, "Do you guys really need someone to help out? I would love to do that!" I answered, "Sure. I'll mention you to Coach Wilson on Monday morning." Jimmy was smiling now. "Thanks, Eric. That would be great! I really admire you...uh...your team, and all the hard work they do. I would be thrilled to be a part of that -- even just a little part."

Later that evening, Tyler and I again placed our mattresses on the floor and prepared for bed. Once we were comfortable, and Tyler was quietly lying beside me, he surprised me by saying, "I need to apologize to that guy tomorrow." "What guy?" I asked. "The one I hit. I've never struck someone in anger before, Eric, and to be honest, I feel terrible about it. I'm going over to the Delta Gamma House tomorrow to say how sorry I am." His confession was so simple -- so honest and pure -- I couldn't help but feel a sense of warm pride in him. He then cradled me in his strong arms, and we drifted off to sleep.

Sunday morning arrived with warm showers, but the sky cleared by noon. Tyler announced he was leaving for the frat house, and I told him I was going with him. "I'm afraid they may not understand the reason for your visit, Ty, and some of them may jump you or something. I don't know how much help I can be -- I've never been in a real fight in my life -- but I will not let you go there alone" I told him. So we left together, walking the few blocks to the frat house in a residential area just off-campus. A few of the brothers were tossing a football on the front lawn, but stopped and eyed us suspiciously when we arrived. "What do you want?" one asked in an unpleasant tone. Tyler spoke up, looking the older boy in the eye. "I came to apologize to one of your brothers about something that happened last night." The frat guy was taken aback by this honest statement, and said, "Oh, um, come with me. I think I know who you are looking for."

We went into the house, where a number of frat guys gathered around us. Suddenly, the kid Tyler hit appeared at the top of the stairs and eyed us warily. His face was bruised and swollen, and he came down the stairs slowly. "What the hell do you want?" he said. He stepped back quickly when Tyler extended his right hand. Then Tyler said, "I came here to apologize to you. I also wanted to make sure you were OK. I...um...I am truly sorry for hitting you last night. I lost my temper and hit you, and that was wrong." His hand remained outstretched, but the other youth ignored it at first. But slowly, his expression softened, and he muttered, "Well, I was pretty drunk last night. I...I think I said some things I shouldn't have. I accept your apology, and hope the two of you will accept mine." The two shook hands, and within moments, the chill was gone, and the frat guys were slapping us on the back, congratulating Tyler on his Hot Bod win, and the guy Ty had punched even invited us back for a barbecue the following weekend. Tyler simply had a way about him -- his kindness and decency always shone through, and his very presence was so overpowering, no one could help but like him -- to feel drawn to him. We left the frat house a few minutes later, having made the acquaintance of most of the fraternity. Their contestant from last night even arranged to meet with Tyler at the gym the following week for some pointers on weightlifting and bodybuilding. I was so proud of Tyler -- he proved himself once again to be a man of honor and dignity, and I felt a little giddy walking next to him back to the dorm.

Around dinnertime, Tyler asked if I was going to the cafeteria. "Nope", I said, "and neither are you! I'm taking you out to dinner. Did you think I forgot today was your 18th birthday?" A big smile spread across his handsome face. "Oh man, my Mom called me earlier to wish me Happy Birthday, but I didn't think you would remember!" "Tyler -- you are 18 today, dude. We have to celebrate!" I told him. We went to one of the chain restaurants in town -- one within walking distance, and had some great food and conversation. The young waitress was flirting shamelessly with both Tyler and me the entire evening. "Ty," I said, "I think she wants to get into your pants!" He turned red, then chuckled and said, "No, dude, she wants to get into yours!" "Oh, I know," I said, "she wants to do a three-way with both of us!" Tyler blushed furiously, then whispered, "Man, I wonder what that would be like? You know, to be with a girl and another guy -- or with two girls at the same time. It seems like that would be really hot."

We left the restaurant and went back to our room. Tyler seemed genuinely happy and content, saying how much he had enjoyed the weekend, the Hot Bod contest, and our dinner together. He stripped off his shirt and sat on our mattresses, leaning against his bed, smiling at me and talking in a low voice. I smiled back, admiring his fine physique, his muscles and skin glowing in the light from our nightstand lamp. Reaching under my bed, I pulled a clumsily wrapped gift out of its hiding place and gave it to him. He was surprised, then tore the paper happily away like a kid at Christmas, saying, "You shouldn't have, Eric." Then he stopped cold and held my gift in his lap, a soft smile on his lips. It was a copy of the famous bodybuilding book "Pumping Iron". I'd found it in a used bookstore near campus a week or so earlier, and knew it was just right for him. He lovingly opened the cover and turned a few pages, saying quietly, "Eric, I don't know what to say. I saw this once in our town library -- but was too embarrassed to check it out. Now you have given me my own copy. I don't know what to say...how to thank you." He looked up at me with an expression of tenderness and devotion, then set the book aside, stood up, and came to where I stood near the door. He walked up to me and wrapped his huge arms around my smaller body, pulling me into him, holding me tightly. My head was on his shoulder, and he whispered to me, "Yes, I think I do know how to thank you."

He pulled back, grabbed my hand, and led me to our bed. He gently reached out and began to unbutton my Oxford shirt, then pulled it off my shoulders and down my arms. He didn't throw it aside as I expected -- instead, he walked to the closet and placed it on a hanger. Then, he came back and told me to sit on the bed. I did as he instructed, unsure what was happening, but eager to find out. He untied my sneakers, and slipped them and my socks off, placing them under my bed. Then, he unhooked my belt and lowered my khaki pants, gently lifting each leg to remove them. These, too, he placed on a hanger in the closet, after removing my wallet and keys and placing them on the table by the lamp. Now I stood in just my briefs, the ones with the little FTL symbol strategically spaced around the waistband. Removing his own shoes, socks and pants, he was quickly down to his small bikini. He lowered himself to the mattress, then reached up, took my hand, and gently pulled me down next to him. "My hands are shaking," he said softly, "but it's not from fear or uncertainty, Eric. It's from excitement. I think I'm ready to...to...return the favor you showed me the other night." I was speechless, in awe of his gentle ways and soft touches. I stretched out on the mattress, afraid to breathe for fear I would awaken and find this all to be a dream. He lay down beside me, but on his side, his head propped on his left hand, while his right began to explore my body. He traced his fingers along my cheek, under my chin, and along my neck. He reached down, took my hands in his one at a time, and stretched my arms above my head. Then he shocked and thrilled me when he leaned over and softly nuzzled my neck and shoulders, softly kissing me there. I was shocked to feel his tongue flicking along my skin, cooling and exciting me at the same time. He licked my neck, then made me groan aloud as his tongue found my armpit and slowly licked me there. I had never felt anything like this before, and my body alternately tensed and relaxed with each new sensation. Moving his head upward, he kissed my cheek, my forehead, the tip of my nose, my eyes -- anywhere he could. Then, his lips found mine -- and he licked them tenderly, then kissed them firmly, his tongue slowly, almost shyly, entering my open mouth.

As new as this was for Tyler, it was equally new for me. I had never felt such passion, such desire, such need. My heart was pounding, almost as though it wanted to break out of my chest and fly away. Small gasps of pleasure escaped my lips between kisses. His hands were now all over me, tenderly stroking my abs, my sides and my chest. He found my nipples -- already growing hard with arousal -- and squeezed and gently twisted them, then began flicking them and scraping them with his thumbnails. Immediately, they rose to full hardness -- two small points of delicious pleasure. He moved down and kissed them, then began to suck one, then the other, coating my chest with his warm saliva as he licked and nibbled on my pecs and aching nubs. How long this continued I don't know, for my mind was reeling with happiness it had never known. Eventually, he moved further south, probing his tongue into my belly button, making me giggle in spite of myself. Then he found my treasure trail. He licked, then began to nibble at the sparse hairs leading from my navel into my briefs. Down, down he went, until his teeth met the waistband of my FTLs. Then, using his tongue like a magic wand, he slipped it under the waistband and raised the elastic enough to get his teeth into it.

I think the shock and elation of what was happening to my upper body had kept the blood away from my lower half, but now it came rushing like a wave into my groin, filling my shaft with power and strength. My cock became hard in seconds as I saw his blond head below my navel, his teeth tugging at my briefs. I raised my hips, thinking he would pull the briefs down. Instead, he slipped his hand under me, and began to squeeze my ass through the thin cotton material, kneading and teasing my globes. I finally lowered my hips, then raised my legs by bringing my heels up to my ass. Tyler shocked me by placing his finger right along my ass crack and rubbing me there, slowly tracing his index finger along the crack, pushing against my quivering rosebud. Though my briefs were still on, I could feel him gently prodding there -- teasing and poking me in that private place where I'd never been touched before. He rubbed my perineum -- that sensitive spot between my testicles and ass -- and drove me nearly wild with lust. He continued to rub and tease me there -- oh, he must have realized how touching me there aroused me -- and I found my body going into sexual overdrive, my aching nuts churning in their sac. Suddenly, he yanked my briefs down over my ass, then pushed my legs flat and pulled the white underwear down my thighs.

My dick was solid as steel, and I could feel a drizzle of dampness seeping from my cock tip as my arousal grew. Tyler whispered to me, "You leak a lot,", then proceeded to place his tongue along my lower abdomen and lick the sticky fluid from my skin, even burrowing his tongue into my pubic hair in search of the sweet nectar of my youth. "Oh, ...oh," I moaned uncontrollably, as my desire continued to build. Tyler placed his right hand under my testicles, and began to feel them and caress them through the wrinkled sac that held them. He continued to fondle and grope my testicular sac for quite some time, as though memorizing its size and shape through his strong hands. He would place one gonad between his fingers and gently squeeze and tickle it, then do the same to the other. Then, while my untouched cock arched toward my navel, he placed his mouth on my nutsac, kissing and licking at the soft skin. Then, he very carefully sucked one, then both my testicles into his mouth, and I could feel his tongue swirling around my sac, probing at it, playing with it. Then, my inner thighs -- he released my testicles, leaving them to pump and jump in their bag while he began to lick my inner thighs, and along the crease where my legs joined my pubic area. Oh, I was so sensitive there...so...so sensitive. I began to writhe helplessly, groaning with need and lust, his tongue sending me to new heights of arousal.

My cock continued to drool my love syrup, and the fluid ponded on my lower abdomen wherever it leaked out. I glanced down and Tyler was looking up at me, a sly smile on his lips. I was stunned by what was happening -- Tyler, who had been so hesitant and unsure about what we had done two nights before, now seemed like a man on a mission. Nothing would stop him from taking me to the very limits of passion. And then, it happened. He reached toward my hard shaft and wrapped his left hand around it, hefting it, squeezing its firmness, then allowing it to rest on his palm. He roughly grazed his thumb across my sensitive glans, rubbing the swollen purple head of my cock as only I myself had ever done before. Then, while holding my fuckstick in his left hand, he used the fingers on his right hand to trace along its length -- rubbing it, caressing it, tracing along my circumcision scar, examining every inch of it. He grazed the glans with his thumb again, smearing it with the fluid oozing from the tip, then let his fingers dance along the underside, flicking and teasing the ridge of my seminal duct, then rubbing the sides, then back to the flared head -- always touching, feeling, stroking. I clenched and unclenched my fists, trying desperately to control the building orgasm, but it was little use. Tyler had a look of wonderment on his face, and I could tell that he too was totally aroused -- his large cock, trapped in the skimpy briefs, was leaking furiously, soaking the front of his bikini where his cocktip struggled to break free from its cotton prison. He then lowered his head, and placed his tongue on the undershaft of my cock, right at the base. Then, slowly and deliberately, he ran his tongue up the sensitive underside of my shaft, right along my seminal duct. I had never given or received oral sex, and I was swept away with desire and pure emotion as this handsome bodybuilder began to lick the most private, intimate part of my body. He stopped when he reached my flared, purple cockhead, then simply engulfed the end of my throbbing dick in his warm, wet mouth. My shaft twitched violently, but he didn't let go. I could hardly breathe, and had to gasp for short gulps of air. And still, his lips stayed on me, moving slowly up and down my penis while his tongue licked and lapped my shaft like a giant lollypop. I clenched my fists again -- I tried to control my body -- but it was no use. Tyler now controlled me -- my very manhood was in his mouth, my hard shaft being driven into ecstasy by his lips and tongue. I had no experience in this -- it was all so overwhelming to me, and I lost control. With a giant shudder, my body convulsed one time, and my cock erupted. I tried to warn him, saying, "Ty...Ty... you'd ..better...look...out", but that was all I could say before the eruption occurred. My aching, rock-hard shaft began to spew its seed harder than ever before, filling his mouth before he pulled back and allowed it to shoot futilely into the air. My spunk was dripping down his chin, and also shooting across my abs, landing on my chest, pooling in my navel, and simply covering my lower body in a warm, sticky goo. "Tyler..I'm..sorry. I tried to...to...warn you."

But he was smiling, and licking his lips, and ...tasting my sexual fluid for the first time. He seemed to relish the flavor of my seed, savoring it on his tongue. Scooping some off my abs with his finger, he sniffed the dripping digit, then licked it clean. Scooping another batch, he placed his finger at my lips, and I hungrily devoured my own semen, licking his finger clean while he grinned and laughed.

That night, Tyler drained me of the very essence of my maleness. I had given myself to him as I had to no other, and he had accepted my gift with tenderness and love. It was his birthday, and I'd treated him to dinner and given him a book. Yet he told me quietly in the afterglow of my ejaculation, "Eric, you have given me the greatest present I ever imagined. You have given me yourself. And, oh, what a beautiful gift that is. I love you, Eric -- your smile, your body, your very soul. I love everything about you." I smiled up at him, then grabbed his shoulder and pulled him down next to me. I rolled on top of him, his muscular body easily supporting my weight. I placed my head on his powerful, heaving chest, and whispered to him. "Lie here with me, Tyler," I said, "and hold me in your strong, safe arms. You mean everything to me, and I want us to stay here like this. Forever."