I was eighteen lean and fit, but wanted to be fitter. I wanted boys to look at me, boys, men, any male of an age I could have sex with. Even if they couldn't, I wanted them to wish they could. So I spent the first couple of hours each morning jogging to the local swimming pool to tone me up and keep me fit and in shape. I used to wake up every morning with a boner, a raging hard-on that yearned

for my attention. But I restrained myself because I hungered for the high

that extra surge of testostorome running through me it would give. I 'd

swing my legs out of bed, go to the toilet, then brush my teeth. I wanted

my breath fresh and minty, my mouth pleasing to taste. Next I 'd throw my

towel n speedos into my backpack along with roll-on and aftershave, throw

on a pair of shorts and vest, sox and running shoes then set off on my jog,

whatever the weather. I loved the jog, especially those I met on the way. I was often up and

out before dawn. In the dark the world was all mine, or at least that's

what it felt like. Mine and those I met. Those would be the milkmen,

postmen, paperboys, dog walkers and other early risers. Not a lot but

enough to know I wasn't the only one up. Nothing happened with them

except the stirrings of hope, expectations and fantisies they evoked in

me as I made my way to the pool. I often wondered if they ever noticed my

boner. It wouldn't have been difficult because I was more often than not

running commando, with no underwear. I 'd work up quite a sweat running,

so the last thing I wanted was friction burns for elasticated edges.

Once I had arrived at the pool I was straight in and running up the

stairs to the main changing rooms. The changing rooms no longer had

cubicles. They kept getting vandalised. So we changed in one huge open

dormitory lined with benches. My eyes were like organ stops at the

slightest sight of nakedness. Another part of me was likewise, only more

raging, more pulsating. If I loved seeing the nakedness of others I assumed they may secretly think likewise towards me. I had no idea of

anyone's sexual tendencies, only my own. But my theory has always been,

even if someone is straight, they must at least be interested in

another's nakedness, especially if the nakedness fit and firm like an

artist's sculpture.

There was one young male there though, a couple of years or more older

than me, who I 'd had my eyes on for a few weeks. He was one of my main

insensitives for getting up in the early hours and keeping this fitness

regime unbroken. I found myself dreaming about him, having fantasies

about him and wanking over mental images of him. He was slim and rippled

with muscular edges and outlines. His back was V shaped with broad

powerful shoulders narrowing down to a small but firm looking bubble

butt. His skin looked velvety smooth as if made of suede. His colour was

even and brown as if he were poured into a chocolate mould. His hair was

fuzzy and ragged. His eyes large and dark. But the best thing about his

eyes were when they looked at me! I yearned to known what he thought when

he looked at me. Did he feel the same towards me as I felt towards him?

If he had made a move on me I would have melted to his every whim. Did he

want to or was he hoping I 'd make the first move? This was an area where I doubted gays would be tolerated, so I was scared to make any obvious indication to my intent and hopes. Instead I just had to settle for the

innocent flaunting that I couldn't resist.

My speedos I 've had since I was 13 or 14, so strictly speaking they were

too small. I liked that because they tucked my package up better, giving

me that firm rounded look, and they never quite covered the tops of my

pubes or the top of the smile my bum gave. I loved the idea that other

men could look at me even if they were the type that would never want to

touch, at least I could give them something to look at lol. If anyone

didn't like it they never let on. Either way I just acted the innocent

one just there for a swim.

At that hour of the morning it was lane swimming only and was never

really full. Maybe ten people at the most. Mostly men before their office

duties beckoned them to work and just a few women. The men ranged from

late teens to elderly. The women tended to be mainly elderly. But that

didn't bother me. It wasn't the women I was interested in lol. I 'd walk out to the pool holding me towel in front of me, so that if I looked offensive to anyone's eyes I was well protected. I was never aware

of growling eyes but I 'd often notice the odd raised eye-brow accompanied

with a sly smile. It was never long though before I was in the water

breat-stroking my lengths. I 've always been a strong swimmer but never

great. One length at a time was enough for me before I 'd make my return

journey to the other end. The rest gave me time to evaluate who was

around and who's attention I 'd like to grab lol. I 'd often home in on

someone and do a length behind them, watching their rear view closely.

Then I 'd head off before them in the hope they'd follow with eyes fixed

on my view. If I saw they had goggles I 'd always have a hard-on. Must be

great to see clearly what's going on under the water-line.

So there I was pumping my all up and down the swimming pool when suddenly I noticed my coloured companion next to me. He must have got in behind me at some point without me noticing. He wore goggles. My heart pounded and

he said hello.

He smiled at me with a sexy wink and started another length. He was a

power swimmer taking his excercise very seriously. He had a great style.

If a dolphin had arms he would have swam as that dolphin would. My cock

was busting to get out of me speedos. I tried to follow him in his wake

but he was way too fast. I was barely half way by the time he had reached

the end. My only consolation was that he would put his head under water

as I tried to complete the length. Was he looking at me, I hoped.

Eventually the pool started to empty so that it could be prepared for the

school sessions. I tried to be last but eventually gave in because of the

beginnings of cramp in my legs. So I got out with only my fantasy and

other finishing off their stints. By then my eyes were stinging too

because of the chlorine, so as usual I made straight for the showers. I was there alone soaking myself and frothing up a good layer of shower gel over me. Of course I kept me speedos on but I washed inside of them

too as thoroughly as if I weren't wearing them. But my hard-on was harder

than usual and I found myself working on it too much. My washing became a

wank and I was in a world of my own thinking what might have been. I was

well horned up. Then I was aware he was next to me again. OMG he might

have seen me wanking. I turned away embarrassed and hoping he hadn't

spotted what I was up to. But he had.

As I let the soap rinse from me I felt his arms rubbing my shoulders. He

was soaping them again. It felt good and I relaxed and my bulge got

harder still. Then I felt his breath on the back of my neck. His lips

againt my skin. His teeth against my ear-lobe. His hands working down

around my stomach. His hard-on against my butt. I groaned but all I heard

from him was a gentle shhhh. A hand slipped into my already untied

speedos and wrapped around my aching shaft. I instantly felt an escape of

pre-cum. My knees wanted to buckle. I felt myself being gently pushed up

towards and against the tyles. I was waiting to feel his cock pushing

into my rear. I felt powerless but in heaven and I wanted this moment to

continue for ever. However, the other chap, the last from the pool,

suddenly appeared. He said nothing, but my colleague just stopped and

left. Shit, shit shit I thought. I hate intruders. Couldn't he see we

were busy. But then again this wasn't a gay world and I was lucky he

didn't kick a stink. I finished rinsing and returned to the changing

room. By then my man had gone. I never saw him again. I guess some dreams

just aren't meant to happen. I continued my routine daily for a few months after that, still flirting

for attention from whoever I could and still getting the winks and

smiles. Eventually the habit broke and I stopped going too. But instead I found soho which quickly captured my attention. At soho dreams and fantasies often came to fruition, so although my encounter at the

swimming pool was lost, I 've more than made up for it since, but each of

those are another and steamier chapter.



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