College Swimmer and the Twins, Pt. 2
The following fictional story includes sexual acts between young males. If you do not enjoy such stories or it is illegal to read such material in your jurisdiction, please do not continue.
Pulling his sports car into the pool parking lot, Pete noticed he was the first to arrive. As a soon-to-be college senior, he was the oldest guy on the Marlins team. It thus fell to him to give rides to many of the younger guys on the team -- not that he minded. He was genuinely fond of the guys and girls on the team, and they virtually idolized him. Because of his responsibility in getting kids to and from practice, he had a key to the pool, and he let himself into the warm, humid natatorium. The smell of the chlorine hit him full force, bringing more memories to his mind -- memories of those early meets some five years before, when he was just a high school junior. Like his first meet as a Marlin...
The meet on that Saturday went fairly well for the Marlins. Trevor actually won the 500 yard freestyle in his 15 and over age group. Pete swam well -- for a relative novice in the sport -- using his muscles more than finesse to power his way through a 50 yard freestyle in 24.2 seconds -- placing him 24th out of 33 athletes in his age group. He also swam the 100 free, where initial power only gets you so far and technique helps carry you through to the end. Here, Pete's newness to the sport was a distinct disadvantage. He had raced the first 50, hoping the momentum would carry him through the second. But he died -- painfully -- in the second half of the race. Coach Mike had told him to pace himself, and not take it out too fast in the first part of the race. But his mind still had some of the football mentality, which told him go fast and just keep going. His 24.9 first 50 was great, but his 31.4 second fifty was a killer, and his 56.3 total time was second to last for his age group. He wearily dragged himself from the pool and staggered to the warm-down pool, where Mike came over and put a consoling arm around his shoulder. "You forgot what I told you -- pace yourself in the first 50," he said. Pete slowly lifted his eyes to meet Mike's, then said, "I...I didn't forget. I thought I could do it my way -- go fast and just keep going. Now I know why you're the coach. I promise I'll listen next time." Mike smiled, and patted him comfortingly on the shoulder.
Other members of the Marlins team were faring well at the meet. Several girls got into the Top 16, and some of the younger boys did also. Especially domineering were the twins -- Jason and Jeremy -- who won several events in the 9-10 age group. In fact, Jason was the top point scorer in his age group at the meet, and was awarded a beautiful trophy. Both twins had numerous ribbons and medals as well.
Pete won -- well, nothing. No medal, no ribbon., no nothing. The ride home that evening was a quiet one -- Trevor and his folks telling Pete how well he'd done, but Pete was not feeling it. He was disappointed with his swims. He was a football standout in his community, but in swimming, he felt like a failure. Yet on Monday, Coach Mike told him he'd done an outstanding job in his 50, and the team gave him a "Most Improved" award for his efforts at the meet. This cheered him considerably, and made him determined to redouble his efforts in the pool.
The rest of that winter, Pete continued his slow but steady improvement. By late February, it was time for the high school championships. Pete was entered in both the 50 and 100 free events, though he knew he was not in contention for a championship, or even a Top 8 final. But their high school relay team was highly ranked, thanks largely to Trevor and two other fast sprinters on their team -- another senior named Tom, and a junior named JT. Pete was the "weak link" in the group, but was determined to do his best for the other guys.
The night before the championship, JT had invited the guys over to his house for a "shave-down" party. When Pete had asked what that was, the guys just laughed and said, "You'll see. Just bring your Speedo." Arriving at JT's, Pete hadn't been sure what to expect. He found the other three guys there. They had pizza, and watched a cool video of some swimming events at the 2004 Olympics. JT's room was in the basement, and he had his own bathroom there. Trevor turned to Pete and asked if he'd brought his racing suit. "Yeah," Pete replied, "but I'm not sure why." "Go ahead and put it on now," JT said. Pete retreated to JT's room and quickly changed, still unsure of what was up. When he walked back into the den, the other boys were all still dressed, but in shorts and tee shirts, not the jeans they'd had on minutes ago. Trevor walked over, took Pete's arm, and led him into the bathroom. JT followed, saying, "Dude, it's time for us, your teammates, to make you a real swimmer. We are going to shave you down."
Pete rubbed his hand across the peach-fuzz he had on his chin and told the guys he'd just shaved that morning. The guys chuckled when they realized poor Pete had no concept of "shaving down." "Dude," said JT, "we are going to shave your whole body -- arms, legs, tummy, chest -- maybe even your balls if you've got any hair down there." The look of shock on Pete's face was priceless -- he gulped audibly, and slowly tried to edge away from his teammates, thinking they had gone mad. But the boys gently guided him back into the bathroom, then into the shower, explaining the whole concept of a swimmer's shave-down as they went. Within moments, Pete felt warm, soapy water being rubbed and splashed onto his skin, his small Speedo becoming soaked almost instantly. Quickly, shave cream was spread across his chest and tummy, and the three boys had razors which they expertly wielded across his body, scraping away his small accumulation of upper body hair, even the tiny patch he'd proudly grown between his heavy, muscular pecs! Then, on to his rippled abs, and -- could it be? -- his precious treasure trail leading from his navel down, down into the top of his small swim suit. His bulky, muscular arms were quickly stripped of their dusting of hair, then it was time for his legs.
So far, the shaving had been precise, methodical, with the three boys taking turns wielding razors and the can of foam. Now, Trevor applied the foam to Pete's legs, one at a time. JT placed his left hand on Pete's right thigh, then began gliding the blade along the bulging quadriceps, then back along Pete's taut hamstring region. JT was kneeling in the shower in front of Pete, his face only inches from Peter's groin. Pete could feel JT's warm breath as it blew across his thigh, JT breathing rhythmically as he swiped away the hairs. Pete suddenly became aware of how erotic the scene was -- his teammate kneeling before him, his mouth so close to Pete's swelling male bulge, as he ran his fingertips along the teen's muscular thigh feeling for stray hairs. JT's fingertips seemed to tease Pete's thigh, and Pete found himself becoming aroused by his friend's gentle touch -- really more of a caress. Trevor, meanwhile, was beginning to work on the other leg, and soon poor Peter found himself with two youths kneeling before him, two sets of hands rubbing his sensitive thighs, then his calves, spreading the shaving cream, stroking the blades across his flesh. And with each passing moment, he found himself growing more erect, his penis stiffening in the small, tight swimsuit, causing it to bulge and tent outward awkwardly, obscenely, directly in front of the faces of his two teammates.
Tom now shocked Peter as he quietly hooked his fingers under the waistband of Pete's suit and began to tug it downward -- one, then two inches, until much of his pubic hair was exposed to the boys' view. None of them had commented on his now throbbing hard-on, though he had seen them glancing at it from time to time, small smiles then playing across their lips. Tom's lowering of the front of his suit provided just enough slack in his suit to allow his cock to suddenly and unexpectedly shift position, and begin to point straight out. Peeking downward, Pete reddened in embarrassment to see his shaft, crowned by his large, bulbous knob, jutting at a ninety degree angle away from his crotch, pointing right toward JT's cheek! Tom softly said, "I needed to lower the front of your suit, Pete, so I could trim your pubic hair. Your racing suit is so brief that some of your pubes will be exposed to public view if you don't trim your bush. Pete nodded and blinked a few times, muttering, "Oh, um, OK," as Tom worked the foam into his light brown pubes, then began to remove the top portion of his dick's fluffy crown.
Pete was now shivering, quivering with sexual tension and arousal. While one boy was working his pubic region, the two others continued their ministrations on his thighs. He could even feel their fingers brushing against his scrotum as they brought the razors along his inner thighs. JT looked up at Pete and winked, nodded toward his obvious erection, and said, "Look at his stiff prick, guys. I think Pete's really enjoying his first shave down!" Pete wanted to die of shame. To be seen in such a state of sexual excitement, his cock so vulnerable, so erect and horny -- well, it was just an outrage. Pete tried his hardest to "will" his erection away, but to no avail. Again and again, fingers brushed his nutsac, jostling his already supercharged teen testicles, while Tom continued to finger and toy with his golden pubes. And then it happened -- whether accidentally or on purpose, Pete couldn't say. JT's forearm brushed, or more precisely, rubbed along his shaft, the thin suit fabric offering him no protection from the stimulation. Pete, already pushed to the edge by the provocative scene being played out on his body, emitted a gasp at the tormenting sensation. JT glanced at Trevor, kneeling beside him, then up at Pete's face. He smiled, then let his arm once again rub and jostle the hard shaft now quivering within the confines of the small Speedo. Pete grunted again. "I think he's ready, guys," Trevor whispered. And with that, razors were quickly put aside, and six hands began to fondle, stroke, tease and grab young Pete in places and ways the young swimmer had never imagined.
Tom stood next to Pete and began to gently flick and rub his hardened nipples, while JT, kneeling before him, grabbed his rock-hard shaft and began to firmly rub his throbbing dick, sliding the flimsy lycra material up and down the underside of Pete's cock, causing the former football stud to gasp and groan as his body responded to the sexual stimulation. Trevor continued to brush his fingers teasingly along Pete's thighs, his touch serving to heighten their victim's sexual arousal. Pete felt as though he would go into shock -- it was one thing for himself and Trevor to `mess around' the way they did back a couple of months ago -- hell, that was just guys being guys! And besides, it was just the two of them then -- who would have known? But this -- this was a totally new experience -- like something from a weird "gay" movie, thought Pete, as his mind reeled. He couldn't believe that three of his teammates were here with him, each one blatantly fondling him, touching him in ways he would never have imagined . Well, OK, he had maybe imagined it, but never believed it could really happen! Three of his new buds just working him over, driving him into a sexual frenzy. "Damn," he thought, "this would NEVER happen with my buddies on the football team." Then he remembered -- the whispered insinuations about an incident at a lakeside cabin last year -- the snide comments about their star quarterback and a couple of their tight ends -- Pete had thought the whole thing a sick joke. Now, he wasn't so sure...
Glancing down, Pete saw JT's hand sliding up and down his turgid dick, while JT looked up at him, smiling. Trevor was also staring into his eyes, his look affectionate, concerned. Pete tried to speak. "Wha...what are...you...guys...why are...why..." But he couldn't complete the statement, his breath now coming in short gasps. A new sensation -- his dick tip burning as his sex fluids began leaking from his overstimulated organ. Pete knew he couldn't hold out much longer -- he simply HAD to have a sexual release, there was no way to stop it now. He felt his balls tighten, as his cock hardened still further, stretching and straining against the suit's thin fabric as surge after surge of pre-orgasmic fluid now poured from his tip, creating a large darker wet spot on the damp blue fabric. "Please, JT, JT...stop...or...I'll..." But that was all he managed to say before his entire body quivered and spasmed, and his cock began to shoot what seemed like gallons of hot, thick boycum into the small racing brief.. Again, and again, and again, in rapid succession, his tormented dick spewed a volcano of viscous seed into that suit, some of it now soaking through the dampened cloth, clinging to the outside of the suit in clumps of sticky white.
Pete was so overcome with the sheer power of his ejaculation that he felt his knees begin to buckle beneath him. The other boys, fearing he might fall, helped to steady him as he sank to his knees. As his sexual crescendo began to wane, Pete looked down at his cum-stained suit, suddenly feeling ashamed, embarrassed. He felt like a little boy -- a kid who had wet himself, who had no control over his own "little wee-wee." He was humiliated, and dumbfounded about why his teammates had done this to him, or how he had allowed it to happen at all. His mind was spinning, trying to think up an excuse, or to place blame, or to curse at the others, or to apologize -- but what happened next was so unexpected and so unique, Pete found he didn't need to say a single word.
The three boys helped him to stand, then Tom kneeled in front of Pete and began to tug the small suit downward, carefully slipping it over the youth's still-hard penis, then sliding it down his thighs and calves to the floor. Pete now stood before them, totally naked and exposed, his hard cock beginning to soften, yet still oozing drops of ejaculate from the tip. JT let out a soft whistle when he saw Peter's dick. "Whew, what a big boy," he said admiringly. The others nodded, as JT continued. "I guess Tiffany was right, Pete -- you are hung like a horse. I overheard my sister, who is a friend of Tiffany's, talking with some of her dumb friends -- she said half the girls in school know all about "Mr. Big" from Tiffany." Pete blushed, but at the same time felt proud that his `manhood' was so well admired. Tom tapped Pete's feet, urging him to lift one, then the other, as he slipped the suit off, then scooped it into his hands. Still kneeling before Pete, he held the cum-stained swimsuit up toward Pete's chest. The soiled crotch of the suit was exposed, the aroma of fresh boyseed filling the air. Still kneeling, Tom began to speak.
"Peter, during this, your first season, you have been as one with us -- practicing, training, competing, struggling. You have been unafraid to wear the garment of your chosen sport -- the Speedo. You have swum in near-naked glory. The bulge in your suit has proclaimed you to be a male. Tonight, the semen you have spilled into this suit proclaims to all present that you indeed possess the functioning equipment that makes a male a man. You are a man among men. Welcome, brave one, to the brotherhood." And at that, Tom stood, dipped his index finger into the gooey spooge resting in the suit's crotch, and wiped a dollop of Pete's sperm onto the new member's pecs, just at the spot where Pete's heart was hammering in his chest. Then JT and Trevor stepped forward, also dipping fingers and spreading cum onto Pete's chest. The solemnity was quickly replaced by back-slapping and handshakes, as the three boys welcomed Pete into the `brotherhood.' A few more ribald comments were exchanged about the new member's more than adequate package, then Tom handed the cum-filled suit to Pete, and told him to turn on the shower to rinse off any remaining shaving cream, and to wash out the suit so it would be ready for the meet tomorrow.
As the boys retreated into the den, Peter turned on the shower and was soon under the warm spray. He quickly washed his own body, carefully cleansing his private parts, then rinsed the suit, using a gentle soap to clean it thoroughly. His mind was still spinning, but at least he now understood that this had been his initiation to the team, and it pleased him that he had been so warmly welcomed. He no longer felt like an outsider -- a football jock who'd switched sports on a whim -- now, he felt like one of the team. A swimmer. And that thought made him smile.
He dried hurriedly and threw on his shorts and shirt to return to the party. He realized the other three boys had yet to shave down, and he was eager to see what else might take place. Returning to the den, he found all three in their Speedos, ready to shave down for the meet. They crowded into the bathroom and began the ritual. By and large, each was shaving his own body, occasionally asking his buddy for help in reaching a difficult spot. But there seemed to be nothing overtly sexual in their behavior -- for these `pros', it was business as usual. Chatter about school, a new video game, or the new movie at the Cineplex filled the room. Talk quickly moved on to girls, with JT and Tom bragging about snatching a feel of tits at so-and-so's party, or what they would do with this one or that one for a night at the local motel. Trevor smiled and nodded excitedly, but contributed little to the conversation, instead glancing shyly at Pete as he joined in the shaving, helping Tom with his upper back and neck. Pete soon realized his initiation had been just that -- an initiation, not some sort of prelude to a night of sexual exploration. Certainly, the blatant masturbation he had endured had a strong homosexual element -- what else could you call it when three teen males purposefully brought a fourth male to a sexual climax? Yet, no one, except possibly Trevor, seemed to attach any deeper meaning to the events that had just occurred. And Peter quickly realized that the special secret, or bond, he and Trevor shared, was best left unannounced to the others.
With the shaving completed, the boys listened to some tunes and then settled in for the night. JT slept in his bed, with the three guests in sleeping bags on the floor in his room. The next morning, the boys drove to the state championships in a nearby city. They didn't win the 4x100 free relay, but they did come in 4th -- the highest finish ever for their school team. And, though Pete's splits were the slowest of the group -- as expected -- he still did quite well, and the other three slapped him on the back and praised him for his swim.
Peter found himself remembering those days as he began his warm-up stretches that early morning at the pool. "I can't believe that was five years ago -- it seems like last week," he thought, as he stretched his muscular quads and hamstrings on the exercise mat. He smiled ruefully to himself, as he thought back to those crazy days in high school. As a senior the following year, his times had dropped dramatically, and he'd placed Top 8 at States then in both the 50 and 100 freestyles. He remembered the pre-race shave-down that year, and how young Kevin -- a quick 9th grader who was barely 14 at the time, had been panic-stricken when Pete and a couple others had given him his "initiation" to the team. Poor Kevin! Pete could still hear his adolescent voice cracking as he said, "I think I have to pee. I REALLY have to pee, guys!" just before he experienced what turned out to be the first ejaculation of his young life! Seems the kid was a late bloomer, so to speak, and had only experienced a handful of weak, confused wet dreams -- never a full-blown, earth-shattering, meat-beating jerk-off before! As he `peed' into his Speedo, he'd glanced inside the crotch, only to see something totally unfamiliar. When the scared, shaken kid looked into his teammates' eyes to say, "I...I don't think it's pee -- it's something else, but I don't know what," Peter had realized how truly naïve the fatherless little guy really was. Kevin was being raised by an elderly aunt since his parents had died tragically in a car accident when he was a child. With no male figure in his life, he'd had nobody to explain those `weird feelings' he'd been recently enduring. Pete and the others had given him a quick lesson in the changes his young body was experiencing -- a lesson that eased his fears, and filled him with a million questions! "Damn, did any of us get any sleep that night?" Pete wondered, smiling to himself, as he slipped into the cool pool to begin his laps.
As he finished his first 300 yard warm-up set, he heard the door to the building creak open, and Pete was stunned when he saw who had entered the natatorium. It was the twins -- Jason and Jeremy -- those fun-loving rascals who used to beg him to throw them in the pool, and who used to play-wrestle him on the grassy areas outside the pool building. But it had been almost a year -- well, ten months, anyway, since he'd seen them. And they sure as hell weren't kids anymore.