The Pool Boy – A Late Christmas Present
Introduction:
I can hardly believe that it happened again at the local pool. Some of the most erotic moments in my slightly sordid past have been at swimming pools. There must be something in the water.
Today though, it’s was particularly quiet, between Christmas and New Year and there are just 2 of us in the pool. As I cross towards the pool ladder, I notice a lad I haven’t seen before, sitting in the guard’s chair. He must be new because he doesn’t have the official pool outfit of red top and black shorts. Instead, he wears an orange T-shirt and a pair of blue nylon football shorts.
He’s quite young too; he can’t be much over 18, with a baby-soft face and floppy brown hair. I know, I should be ashamed of myself, a much older guy ogling a guy young enough to be his son, grandson even, but I can’t help it! Anyway, he’s sitting on the high stool at the shallow end, near the ladder, so as I walk towards him, I get a good look, you know, up and down, the way you do, my glance lingering momentarily on the folds of dark blue nylon between his legs.
He sees me of course and it even seems, in my warped imagination, that his glance goes down for a moment, in the direction of my own swim shorts.
I like my Andrew Christian mesh shorts for swimming because they’re loose around the groin and the mesh lets the water pass through easily. What’s more, they have no modesty pouch inside and as I swim, I love the feeling of the water around my completely free cock and balls. The double layer of mesh is usually sufficient to avoid embarrassing any old ladies but the pale coloured shorts do tend to be more revealing than the darker colours, especially when wet.
Today I am wearing the yellow shorts and, like the considerate swimmer that I am, I have showered first, so when I see this new lad, this 18 year-old, look down at me briefly, I get to wondering of he has seen more than I think is usually visible. Either that or he’s thinking to himself, “God, look at him! What does that bloke think he looks like in those stupid shorts?”
As I swim up and down the pool, I am spurred-on by the promise of another look at him each time I come back towards the shallow end. From the water, I get a nice long view up at him as he sits on his stool with his leg crossed, his bare foot resting on his other knee; and I catch fleeting glimpses up one leg of his dark blue shorts, where the soft white skin of his bare leg disappears towards the darkness of his groin……
On one of my approaches, he is playing with one of the long poles with a safety hook on the end. There’s an electric fan on the wall high above him and he uses it to reach the switch. As the lad twists around and stretches back on his stool to extend his reach, my heart skips a beat as his T-shirt pulls up and reveals his milky-white bare tummy. I am fascinated and puzzled; with all that near-nakedness in the pool, how is it that the revealing of a boy’s bare tummy in this way can seem so……..arousing?
A while later, one of the regular guys, his relief, comes along and “Orange T-shirt” gets down off his stool and walks barefooted down the pool to the other guard-station for his next 20 minutes duty, while the guy there now goes off for his break. Today though, the other high stool is out of action and they are using an ordinary plastic chair at the side of the pool. “Orange T-shirt” sits down. He’s still carrying the pole.
As I swim down the pool towards the deep-end, he’s sitting on the chair, legs apart, close to the edge, so I have an even better view of him, his delicate fingers idly playing with that pole, now upright in his hands between his legs. As I make my turn and come back past him, I can’t help smiling to myself at the subconscious implications and I quietly chide myself for wondering if he has masturbated this morning yet. “Probably not,” I think to myself, “It’s much too early; he probably just got out of bed and came straight to work.” But as I turn my head in the water to look at him, he sees me; our eyes meet and I realise that I have been “spotted”.
On my next approach towards the deep-end, he’s watching me at first but then he casts his gaze away more vacantly and yawns widely, stretching his arms in the air and his legs straight out in front of him towards the water. This has the effect of revealing his naked tummy again while also pulling tight the material across the front of his blue shorts, emphasizing the bulge that lies within them.
As I approach my turn at the deep-end and pass him again, he’s sitting with his legs stretched out in front and his feet almost at the pool’s edge, his hands resting in his lap; over that bulge of blue nylon. As I swim back past him, he absently squeezes his bulge with the fingers of one hand. But then I think to myself, “Surely he knows I can see him.”
On the next approach, he feigns a yawn again and stretches but this time he brings one hand down inside the waist of his shorts and adjusts himself. We all know what happens early in the morning, when a guy yawns and stretches……. My stomach leaps into my throat and I can feel my heart thumping hard in my chest at the thought of his hand having just touched his erect tool, now more comfortably repositioned to one side in his shorts.
I swim back towards the shallow end and calm down a little but I can feel my own erect cock inside my shorts as it pushes against the mesh of my shorts and that just gets me more aroused.
The next time I get towards the deep-end, he watches me as I approach, his hands still across his groin. He casually glances around and then, without warning, one hand nonchalantly slides to the open leg of his shorts and he pulls the material upwards towards his groin, as if to scratch an itch in his inner thigh. The effect is to reveal to me, in direct line-of-sight, the white mesh bulge inside his blue nylon shorts. “My God!” I say to myself, “He’s deliberately provoking me – but just how far is this little tart prepared to go?”
By the time I reach the shallow end again, I am still shaking as I climb out of the pool and head for the showers, which are opposite the entrance to the men’s toilets. The showers are communal and unisex, so I have to keep my shorts on. “Just as well!” I think to myself. Then it happens.
He appears around the corner, his shift finished, and he stands momentarily at the entrance to the men’s toilets, as he glances at me in the shower, checking to see if I have seen him. I have. I am alone. He goes into the men’s toilet.
My heart is thumping into my chest and I am unsure what to do. I am a regular here. They know me. I decide to wait a moment or two and see if he comes out but he doesn’t. The automatic shower cuts off.
Year ago, sailors would tell stories of men lured to their doom by sirens of the sea, mermaids. This boy’s no mermaid but the thought goes through my head that he is luring me to my doom just the same. And just like those bewitched sailors could not resist the siren’s call, I can’t resist the temptation now – and I go into the men’s toilet.
He’s still standing at the urinal, his hands in front of him and his shorts slightly pulled down. There are 3 urinals and he is at the one in the middle. He’s been there way long enough to do a pee, so it’s now obvious what he’s up to. I stand alongside him and take out my own semi-erect cock. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t pee at this moment; all the muscles in that part of my body are preparing for something else entirely! But that’s irrelevant now, as I stand there, allowing him to see me. I turn my head to look at him and below the end of the orange T-shirt, I catch a tantalizing glimpse of his penis, its pale pink flesh partly concealed by his hands. I can’t tell if he’s got an erection or not; the glimpse is too short and he’s concealing too much. But he’s also looking down at me; and then he lifts his gaze and looks me in the eyes; his own are dark brown and deeply dilated.
Suddenly, he puts is tool away and walks off. But he walks into one of the open cubicles, still in view, and he turns to face me. His eyes dart towards the entrance, as if checking that the coast is clear. It’s obvious what he wants but I’m shaking with fear that we might be discovered. But the endorphins now pumping through my bloodstream have me on a high and I’m more reckless. I follow him into the cubicle and lock the door.
Kneeling in front of him, I slide his shorts down to his feet and his semi-erect young manhood is at last revealed, as it flops forward inches from my face, pink and warm and fleshy. I steady myself by putting both my hands on the soft cheeks of his exposed buttocks. His skin feels like velvet to the touch and I want to stroke him and enjoy him but he has more urgent needs and he thrusts his cock in my face. I want to enjoy this young man and, knowing how desperate he is for the relief I can give him makes me more aroused too, as I now have him “in my power”! Meanwhile, in the background, I can hear only distant sounds from pool outside.
As I take his warm, gently throbbing tool in my hand, I drink-in the view of his pale bare legs and his hairless tummy, descending to a thick bush of dark brown curls, a few small blemishes in his left groin and his perfectly proportioned testicles, decorated with a few tiny hairs and now bunched and compact, as his organ now fills and hardens in front of my lips. His balls twitch and roll in their soft-skinned sack, as I gently pull back the skin of his uncircumcised weapon, now so hard and erect that it wants to point upwards at 45 degrees and I have to hold it down to the level of my mouth.
With one hand, I hold his organ against the side of my face as I stroke and squeeze the soft flesh of his firm, smooth buttocks with my other hand and I nuzzle my face into his groin, inhaling the aroma, an almost forgotten mixture of smells, a young man’s smells: soft musk and sweet sweat, but also soap and talcum powder I detect, as my nose explores the thick nest of hair and my tongue begins to lick those soft, exposed balls. As I do this, I feel him inhale deeply and the grip of his hands on my shoulders tightens. He’s enjoying it. I briefly wonder who last did this to him – or if indeed, perhaps this is an as-yet unfulfilled fantasy?
But I haven’t much time to waste enjoying this too much. His swollen penis throbs in front of me, the dark pinkness of its head in marked contrast to its pale-skinned shaft, now firm and hard. His organ is quite large for a smallish young man, easily 7 and-a-half inches but it is nicely proportioned and not too thick, so I take the head between my lips and run my tongue softly around the sensitive glans, as I hear him first inhale deeply and then let out a soft sigh of pleasure.
My mouth sinks slowly lower over the shaft of his 7 and-a-half inch meat, as I inhale again his body scents, his youthful pheromones filling my nostrils. It’s been a while since I “deep-throated” a guy, especially one so young, and I am a little out of practice but after all, it’s a bit like riding a bike; past practice quickly comes back to you! And I am determined to go all the way, especially as he is now getting eager, pushing urgently into my throat, as I suck and slurp willingly, my tongue circling his shaft, flicking back and forth along the sensitive underside of his tool.
As I grasp his firm young buttocks with both hands, I run my fingers into the crack of his bum and find it, just like his balls, hairless and smooth. I spread my fingers and pull his cheeks apart, teasing my longest fingers into that holiest of sweet spots, his anus. He lets out a murmur of disapproval but with his tumescent tool still down my throat, there isn’t much he can do, unless he pulls away. And he doesn’t want to do that. So as I tickle and play around his bum-hole with my fingers, I look up and see him biting his lower lip. His eyes are closed as he twists his head around and around in pleasure. Quickly I moisten my fingers with some of the copious dribble and juices now running down my chin and I return to that sweet spot between his buttocks, gently inserting the tip of my finger into that tightly-closed entrance.
He whispers, “No, don’t,” and tries to wriggle from my grasp but he is too bound up in the moment and he soon realizes that he quite likes the sensation; perhaps it is something new to him. He gives a stifled squeak as my finger disappears inside his hole and pushes deeper. I shift slightly to one side, still cock-in-mouth, so that I can bring my other hand around to the front, to clutch and tickle at his testicles, now soaked in a mixture of my spittle and his own sweat, while the finger of my right hand pushes ever deeper into his “inner sanctum”.
“Jesus!” I heard him whisper, “Oh fuck, oh fuck!” he urges, his two hands now clasped about my head, as I sink lower over his shaft and finally reach “home base”, with my nose buried once again in the tight brown bush of his groin.
With my left hand clutching his ball-sack, now hard and tight against his groin, my fingers extend underneath and feel his perineum throbbing in muscular rhythm to the throbs of pleasure in his swollen tool in my mouth. Meanwhile, the longest finger of my other hand pushes deep inside his anus, at last locating that tell-tale hardness of his prostate gland. Twisting my hand around, I am able to gently rub and press it, as I feel his body tense and squirm in my hands and he moves into the final phase of his ecstasy.
“Oh God; oh fuck!” he whispers urgently, “I’m cumming!” he almost weeps in pleasure. He doesn’t need to tell me; I can tell! His cock is still buried deep in my throat and he desperately wants to thrust in and out but he can’t because my hand is gripping his buttocks and my finger is stimulating his prostate in a way he has clearly never felt before. He is shaking and gritting his teeth now and breathing heavily, trying not to make a noise, as I apply the last gentle movement necessary to the underside of his hard, swollen penis head in my throat and I feel the tell-tale throbbing from his perineum muscles, as the finger of my right hand feels the first wave of man-fluid erupting from his prostate on its path toward the outside world.
Everything usually seems instantaneous when we are in the grip of orgasm but in this case, this young man’s orgasm is in MY grip and with my finger massaging his prostate, my other hand clutching his balls and feeling his perineum, while his engorged organ is rammed into my throat, it’s as if the whole process goes into slow-motion in front of me. The throbbing inside his anus begins a split-second before I feel that first wave of fluid surge along his perineum muscle and into his cock, followed by throbbing wave after wave of man-juice, as his uncontrolled ejaculations burst up his shaft. Shuddering in ecstasy, his jets of creamy, salty cum fire repeatedly down the back of my throat, as wave after wave of his youthful semen erupts through his body and into mine, and I swallow every drop, until eventually I have to pull back to take a breath.
At last, I let go my hold of him and I watch his face wince, as I allow his body to gently push my finger from its secret home. As it finally emerges, he exhales sharply and blows his cheeks in relief.
Suddenly it’s all over. As I get up from my knees, he quickly reaches down and pulls his shorts up, carefully tucking his still semi-erect cock discretely back inside their white mesh interior. But as I stand in front of him, he briefly looks at me and I catch a satisfied smirk at the edges of his beautiful mouth. Before he knows what’s happening, I grab his face and kiss him softly on the lips and smile at him. He is momentarily stunned but I have to let him know there’s affection, even in raw sex. Then he’s gone and I’m left to ponder the consequences of the last few minutes and with a throbbing erection in my still wet Andrew Christian mesh shorts; an erection that is dribbling pre-cum all down my exposed thigh…….
I haven’t seen him since that morning, so what he was doing there, goodness only knows.
