Copyright by Marathon Brad, 2026, permission given to Gay Demon to reprint this story. It may not be copied to another website without prior approval from the author.
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A reader from South America trusted me with this story, sharing a deeply personal and passionate connection he once had with an athletic soccer player. He asked me to tell it, not just for him, but so others could feel it as well.
After that day Diego asked me to come and watch him train with the professional team in Cabimas. He found many reasons for us to spend time together and my heart jumped every single time I heard from him.
At the training field he was magnificent. Shirtless in the hot sun, his athletic soccer body glistening with sweat, running drills with a focus that was impossible to ignore. His strong legs drove him forward with explosive speed. His shoulders cut through the air. Every muscle in his lean, trained body worked together perfectly, the product of his dedication and natural athletic gift. He was beautiful.
I sat on the bench and watched him, proud just to be the one he had chosen.
He knew I was watching. Every time he completed a drill, he glanced toward me, just a quick look, just long enough to make sure I was still watching. Then that slow, satisfied smirk. He was performing for me and we both knew it.
I was happy just to be there. Somewhere along the way, he had become my entire world.
After practice we walked back together to Oliver's place and the pool. Oliver was home, but tired from work. He saw us together and smiled and thought nothing of it. His younger cousin and his best friend getting along well.
He had no idea.
Diego took every opportunity when Oliver was not looking to keep his athletic body on display for me, stretching near the pool with long, intentional movements, pulling his shirt off gradually, running his hands through his damp blond hair while his green eyes stayed fixed on mine. He stretched, arms lifting above his head, his blond armpit hair visible, his clean masculine scent drifting toward me, nearly making me drool.
He was definitely "hunting" me. Slowly. Patiently. With the focused confidence of a twenty-year-old who had decided he was going to get exactly what he wanted.
It became a routine. When Diego slipped into the water, I followed.
He worked with me on floating, his hands supporting my back, letting me feel the safety of his grip. I had always loved how Diego smelled. Clean skin, pool water and the heat of his training still lingering on his body. Sometimes when he held me close in the water, I heard him groan with pleasure, a soft sound that he did not bother to hide.
One afternoon he moved close to me in the water, his lips near my ear, his breath on my cheek and neck. My hands trembled as his athletic body pressed into mine from behind, his fingers firm and steady on my back. My chest tightened. My heart pounded so hard I was certain he could hear it.
"You are safe with me, Javier," he whispered.
Those words sent a deep shiver through my entire body. Heat rushed to my face. My knees felt completely weak.
"I feel that," I whispered back.
He moved behind me in the deep end, his body aligning perfectly with mine. One arm slid around my chest, his hand spread wide across my pecs. The other pressed flat and firm against my abs. "You are too stiff," he said. "You need to flow with the water, not fight it."
His chest gave off heat against my back. I could feel the ridges of his abs against me, the soft fabric of his small white thin speedo pressing against my bare skin. His breath was warm on the side of my neck. The clean masculine scent of his body, soap, chlorine and something that felt completely like Diego filled my senses.
And my cock was hard. Visibly, painfully hard in my own speedo. I tried to shift my position, to hide it, but his grip tightened immediately.
“Relax, Javier,” he whispered, his lips near my ear, his voice completely aroused now, his intention clear. His hand on my stomach slid down a bit, his fingers brushing the waistband of my own speedo and the dark pubic hair below. I shuddered hard against him and a moan escaped my lips.
"See?" he said softly. "You are too tense."
I could not speak. All I could do was feel. The aroused heat of his body. The strength of his arms. The pressure of his fingers that told me he knew exactly what he was doing and had known all along.
I wanted him so badly.
Diego tightened his hold and pulled me closer against his frame.
"I am here," he said.
I closed my eyes and let his athletic strength hold me. His arms stayed wrapped around me.
"Trust the water," he whispered.
I did. And I trusted him completely.
We stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, my back to his front, his hands on me, the pool water around us, barely moving. Finally, he released me and glided away through the water. "Again," he commanded.
Later, resting against the pool wall with our shoulders touching, Diego grew quiet. Oliver had come out briefly to check on us, laughed at something, then gone back inside to watch television. He never suspected a thing.
"I wanted you at practice before," Diego said.
I turned toward him.
"You make me feel happy."
Those simple words made my heart beat faster. I did not answer right away. I only stayed close.
From that day on something grew between us.
One evening the three of us swam together. The pool lights glowed soft blue. Oliver joked and laughed for a while, then stretched his arms wide and announced he was finished.
"I am going to bed," Oliver said.
He climbed out of the pool, waved a tired hand at both of us and walked inside.
Diego swam toward me through the blue-lit water and sat beside me on the steps. Our shoulders touched. Neither of us moved.
I still did not fully understand why Diego kept choosing me. He was young and handsome and built like every boy in Cabimas dreamed of. He was a professional soccer player with a body that stopped people in the street. He could have had anyone he wanted.
So why me?
I finally asked him. "Why do you invite me everywhere?"
Diego stared at the water for a long moment.
"I like you," he said simply.
He turned toward me.
"I do not know how to do this," I said quietly.
Diego placed his warm hand over mine in the water.
"You do not have to know," he said. "Just stay."
We swam together after that. At the far wall he stopped very close to me and lifted his hand, touching my cheek with his fingers. I closed my eyes.
"You like that?" he whispered, his warm lips close to my ear, his tongue tracing the edge softly. "You like how I touch you?"
"Yes," I breathed. "God, yes, Diego."
He moaned low against my ear, a satisfied sound that told me he had been waiting for those words for a long time. "I knew it," he said. "I see how you look at me all the time. You want more."
It was not a question. I reached back and found his hip, the firm athletic curve of his beautiful, perfect ass, and pulled his body tighter against mine. I could feel the hard, insistent press of his thick cock against my back, young and urgent.
"Tell me,” he said.
"I want you," I whispered. "I want you to fuck me."
He reached inside my speedo, his hand sliding down my cleft until his fingers found my hole, slick and probing, one thick finger, then two, pressing and circling and entering me. The stretch was a deep, full pressure that made my legs shake and a long moan pour from my lips into the night air.
"Hold onto the edge," he instructed.
I gripped the concrete with both hands. Behind me Diego took his time. The large, swollen head of his cock pressed firmly against my entrance but not yet pushing in. He held it there. Teasing. Patient. The focus of a twenty-year-old who had decided he was going to savor every single second of this. I pushed back against him instinctively.
"Ask me," he said quietly.
"Please," I breathed. "Diego. Please."
He pushed forward in one long, deep stroke, burying his hard young erection completely inside me.
The moaning sound I made was loud and I did not care. He was enormous and the stretch was extraordinary, the pleasure almost overwhelming.
"You are so tight, Javier," he groaned against my shoulder blade. A sound of pure young satisfaction. He held himself buried inside me, letting my body adjust, his hands firm and steady on my hips. His lips found the back of my neck. Warm, open, his breath heavy against my wet skin. Then he began to move.
He started fucking me slowly, withdrawing almost completely before thrusting back in with a deep, grinding roll of his soccer hips. The water cushioned us, making every movement smooth and dreamlike. But the force of his young, trained body was absolutely real. The strength in his athletic thighs driving into me was overwhelming and impossible to resist.
He picked up his pace, his hips meeting my body with wet, pulsing force that echoed across the quiet pool. One hand braced on the pool edge beside mine while the other reached around and found my cock, stroking me in perfect time with every thrust. The rhythm between us felt perfect. The desperate intensity of a young athlete giving me everything he had. I loved that he was using my body for his pleasure.
"You feel that?" he grunted, his hot breath against my neck. "You feel how good we fit together?"
I could only moan. A continuous, broken sound of yes, yes, yes that I was no longer trying to hold back. The rest of the world had simply stopped. The firm grip of his hand on my cock, the deep pleasure of his body fucking mine, the warmth of his chest against my back.
His rhythm became urgent and demanding. His thrusts became shorter and harder and deeper. His teeth grazed my shoulder. His lips pressed against the side of my neck. The hungry, unstoppable passion of a twenty-year-old who had wanted this for weeks and was finally, fully taking it.
"I want to feel you release your cum as I fuck you," he breathed against my ear. Low and rough and full of need. "I want to feel every single second of it."
"I am going to," I gasped.
"Cum for me," he said.
It was the only command I needed.
My orgasm tore through me. I shook against his athletic body, my back arching, a cry leaving my throat as thick white ropes of cum spilled over his fist and into the pool, pulsing in long streams. The deep clenching of my hole around his cock sent him over the edge immediately. With a deep, gruff shout he drove into me one final time and held. His entire young athletic frame shuddered, his beautiful twenty-year-old body completely undone. Thick white cum flooded into me in urgent, pulsing waves.
I felt every single surge. Every thick, creamy jet of his passionate release filling me. It felt like Diego was claiming me completely. Something far deeper than just a physical act.
We stayed locked together, breathing hard, neither of us able to move. I could still feel him inside me. Warm and present. His chest rising and falling hard against my back.
Then he turned me in his arms and kissed me. Deep and warm and tender. Our hearts pounding hard against each other.
The pool water moved softly around us while the night air touched our skin. Diego held me close near the edge of the pool, his forehead resting against mine like he did not want the moment to end. Standing there under the quiet night sky, I did not want it to end either.
I was in love with a young, athletic soccer player.
Author is Brad
My email is [email protected], I would love to hear your thoughts.
I love getting men excited, whether it is through my writing, watching me grind out reps in skin-tight gear at the gym, showing off online, or moving my body on a stage.
I will stay hard for you in every way that matters.
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