Date: Sat, 21 Aug 2010 02:06:55 -0400 From: Jason Subject: Scot's Seduction - Chapter 3 Bisexual adult/youth MF bM MM Scot's Seduction Part 3 of 7 By Jason Sterling (sterling.jason (at) gmail.com Before I left the apartment the next morning I told Scot to be sure to be home that evening because we were going to go to the Gym after we ate and do a dip in the pool and he could work out on some of the bodybuilding equipment they had. Scot reminded me that he had packed his backpack with only a few items and a bathing suit was not with him here in my place. I told him to not worry about having a suit because where we were going he didn't need one. I brought some carryout sushi home with me from one of my favorite Japanese stores on the way home and even though Scot wasn't too thrilled eating a meal he described as "what I would use as bait to catch me some real fish", he ate it more to please me than anything else. After eating I told him we were going to the 'Y' about ten blocks away and we would walk there, allowing our food time to digest. I told him the only thing he needed to bring was a jockstrap, a pair of cotton shorts and a change of socks. The Nikes he was wearing were fine, but he needed them to not be the ones he walked there in. The people at the YMCA frowned on using the same foot apparel in the workout rooms as the ones we normally used on the street. The formidable old building that housed my local 'Y' had been constructed in the twenties, back when a place like that was considered more of a men's club where women were excluded, business deals were cut and an 'old boy' network prevailed. The rich, brown solid wood front desk, beautifully ornate, was the centerpiece around which all the other adjoining rooms were modeled. Reading and lounging areas were crowded with overstuffed furniture, thick Persian rugs and a lived-in, musky smell abounded. I got Scot registered as a guest and I took him down the long steps leading to the locker rooms and the pool. The farther down we went the stronger was the smell of chlorine wafting up from the "Natatorium" as the signs on the walls said along with an arrow pointing downward. The smell of the disinfectant happily covered the aroma produced by three quarters of a century of male sweat and body odor that had permeated these walls. I had a regular locker tucked in the back corner with my own combination lock protecting a few sweat soaked items and found more than enough space for Scot to hang his few things. We both stripped and I led us to a shower area where a big notice on wall proclaimed, "Showers Are Mandatory Before Entering The Pool Area." Scot shrugged and said it seemed like a waste of time, but we both soaped down and rinsed before we stepped into a foot bath that blocked our way to the pool. I just explained that these people had a 'thing' about not spreading athlete's foot fungus around. Scot retorted, "Where's the place to dip my dong? I'm more likely to spread clap around this joint than foot itch." When we stepped into the pool area I had my first real good opportunity to see this beautiful, young creature in full glory. He manfully walked over to the edge of the water, stuck his foot in to test its temperature and walked confidently to the back end of the room to use the springboard at the deep part of the floridly mosaiced tank. On his walk to the board I noticed quite a few glances from the other swimmers watching this lithe, graceful lad as he strode with inner self-awareness around the side of the pool. He seemed to relish in the fact that his youthful beauty could turn heads. Other than being shy or bashful around a group of naked men, Scot was enjoying being looked at. The slow and deliberate walk he took to the end of the springboard and the few practice bounces he made once there were only his way of flaunting his physique. Then in one graceful bound he dove off the board and slipped into the water as smooth as a hot knife cutting butter. This kid sure turned out to be a drama queen. Scot didn't spend much time actually in the water. He constantly climbed out and sauntered a different way each time back to the diving board. He also made a game of seeing how far he could swim under water after each dive before he had to surface for a breath of air. As a tease he singled out only the more attractive men in the pool and swam through their legs, if they hung down in the water, on his show of being able to hold his breath longer than most people could do. This side of his personality was something new to me about him. He wasn't the shy, inept, naive teen that he first appeared to be. He was looking for the spotlight, not hiding from it. After I did my usual twenty laps of the pool I climbed out and told Scot that I was going into the steam room and he could join me later or I could show him the workout facilities now if he wanted. He chose going with me. After a quick rinse, mostly to get rid of the smell of the chlorine on my body, Scot put on his sneakers and shorts and followed me to the fitness training area and I introduced him to a few of the regulars who seemed to spend all their free time lifting weights and trying to get themselves pumped up to be what I considered to be ugly and muscle-bound. I pointed out to Scot where I'd be and clad only in the Y supplied towel went off the the sweat soaked wooden planks that protected ones bare ass from the heat of the room. Several other inhabitants were in there either sitting high up in the top tiers of the various levels or prone, half sleeping on the lower and cooler locations, but all of us enveloped in a cloudy haze of live steam that was denser than a natural fog one could encounter on a fall evening. The only light in the room was a sealed, glass protected bulb halfway up the wall next to the door. It cast a glow only around the entrance. If one was toward the back of the room it was practically dark there. One by one guys came and went, but after awhile there were only two of us still sweating in the room. The other denizen was a fellow whose name I never knew but was familiar enough to me to know he was into feet in a fetish sort of way. When it was obvious we were alone, the foot guy hung his towel over the protective glass enclosure of the light making it nearly as dark as a cloudy night would be if we were out in the country. He sat on the lowest level of the steam room and knelt before me kissing my feet in an obsequious manner testing whether or not I would object and walk away or let him proceed. I let him caress and massage my feet to his heart's content which only encouraged him to delve deeper in his exploration of my pedal extremities. Soon he was sucking my toes individually and licking out the supposed crud between them, all the while having a look of intense pleasure on his face as if he was lost in an orgasmic dream. I momentarily awakened him from his reverie by saying, "You know, I charge for this! I want the same attention paid to this cock of mine after you're done getting your kicks by sucking my tootsies." The foot fetishist looked up at my opened towel exposing my cock being slowly pumped with my right hand and said, "I just want you to know I'm not a fag. But I'll do what you want only because you've given me so much pleasure fondling these two lovely feet." With that he moved up one tier so his face was level with my open and exposed groin area and reluctantly put the tip of my penis in his mouth. After several minutes of very shallow sucking where his lips hardly ever went further than a few inches into his mouth, I reached to grasp the back of his head and force a deeper insertion. After a bit of gagging and trying to pull back from the enforced penetration my sucker finally gave in and allowed me to use his throat as a substitute cunt, which it was. My reluctant fellator tried to pull away when I shot a load in his throat, but my hand behind his head prevented him from withdrawing. When I was sure that he was done with his repayment obligation I released him and he went over to the side of the room and spit and sputtered as much cum out of his mouth as he could cough up. Just then Scot came in the door and said that he was done with all the exercises he was going to do and would meet me by the locker after one final dip in the pool. I told him to come sit down for a few minutes because there was a fellow I wanted him to meet. I turned to the foot guy and said, "This young man is my nephew Scot and I wanted him to share in the wonderful experience you have given me this evening. I'll leave you two alone now, to get acquainted, and I hope you please him as much as you did me." With that I left. As I was going out the door of the steam room I looked back and saw the foot guy with a big grin on his face walking to where Scot was seated and I heard him say, "Hello. My name is Bill. Do you mind of I look at your feet? I may be able to relieve any problems you may have caused by shoes that don't fit properly." I went back to the showers and soaped myself down, not only to wipe off the sweat but to clean up the possible spit left on my now wrinkled cock by Bill when he was paying for his fetish fantasy. Just the thought of where this guy's mouth had been before he he sucked up all the 'toe jam' from god-knows-who before he worked on me turned my stomach. The same things went through my mind when I've allowed my asshole to be licked by some queer and he wants to kiss me after the rim job. No Way! I was still drying out and partially dressed when Scot returned to the lockers. He had a big grin on his face. "Where did you ever get to know a guy like that? I've never had my toes sucked on before, but it was something I won't forget." I did my best to explain to this kid that life is an infinite number of experiences, all to be sampled at least once. Some are educational, pleasurable or are downright disgusting, but until you've at least tried them you'll never know how varied and interesting life can be. This was the subject that we talked about on the long walk back to my apartment. I may not have realized it at the time, but I was laying the foundation for a seduction of this youthful beauty however much I knew how morally wrong this would be, let alone the legal aspects of corrupting an underage minor. End of Part 3 Comments and/or suggestions always welcomed