This story is complete fiction. Any similarities between these fictional characters and any living person is purely coincidental.
Hopefully it will be a good read. Please let me know what you think by messaging me at writingaloud07@gmail.com. I absolutely love hot Asian guys, especially muscled ones. And swimmers. Sexy hairless swimmers will always have my attention.
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This story is told from the perspective of Lee.
Lee's Story:
Life is business. My dad believed that your professional life started way before you entered the job market, and that there was far more to it than working hard, getting promotions and making money. It was all about the right upbringing, being around the right people and networking from as early as possible. "Excellence breeds excellence." In order to have the best life, I had to surround myself with like-minded people, those who strove for excellence in every area of their lives. By "like-minded," I knew my dad meant people who shared his opinions, not mine.
My parents met during my mom's year abroad in Korea, where she met my dad at university. He had studied English from a young age, and surprised her when he volunteered to show her around Korea. My mom really had a thing for nature, so my dad took her to hot springs, and the most beautiful parks. These spots were all documented in a series of photos that my mom kept to this day.
"It wasn't love at first sight, but it was pretty close."
It was hard to imagine my dad was a romantic, but my mom fell for him, so I guess he had to have been charming at some point in his life.
Immediately after graduation, my mom moved to Korea to be with my dad. A couple months later, she was pregnant with me.
I was born in a small city about an hour away from Seoul, where I went to kindergarten. My dad was working two jobs: one at a hospital, and another at an English conversation school. He believed that education was the core of one's life, so he was adamant about sending me to a highly recognized Kindergarten. How did an "elite Kindergarten" compare to others? I wasn't sure, but I remembered riding to and from home on the train every day with my mom, telling her about everything that I did. Her face lit up every time I laughed.
Recounting the day's events to my dad was like a business meeting, him asking follow-up questions to test and practice what I had learned as if any of this stuff could determine the rest of my life.
Regardless of the "proper environment," my dad moved us to America after Kindergarten, because he believed I would have more opportunities there.
An all boys' school would put me far ahead of other boys my age. Without the distraction of girls, I wouldn't let any urges interfere with my academics. That didn't make any sense to me, but my dad's logic was final. I attended Winston Bell's Elementary School for Boys, and felt like a trophy that my dad was dying to show off to the other parents.
Play dates were always organized by my dad, and I was warned that I would be punished if I didn't make a good impression. It was infuriating. Having to awkwardly make small talk with kids who I had nothing in common with was hard. In the worst situations, we just resorted to playing video games. Neither one of us had to talk, and we could fake enough enthusiasm about who won and who lost to impress our dads.
I felt trapped. My dad was involved with every last detail of my life. I didn't really have any close friends. How could I when I didn't have a say in who I hung out with? I desperately needed an escape, and in sixth grade, I found one after I joined the swim team.
Admittedly, sitting on the bleachers with seven other boys, all of us wearing nothing but a tight pair of blue and white speedos, made me feel a little awkward. Some of these boys had bodies much more toned than my own, having a bit of muscle that I could only dream about getting. It didn't look like my chances of making the team were so good. Our junior high had a reputation for taking both academics and sports seriously in order to maintain a "healthy balance." Almost all students joined a sports' team when they entered the sixth grade, so the summer after fifth grade, my dad was constantly on my back to pick a sport. The only reason I chose swimming was because of the coach, Zander.
Twenty-one and fresh out of college, Zander had taken the job as swimming teacher and coach at our school. He had been swimming all his life, and made captain of his university's varsity swimming team when he was a junior, succeeding to lead his group to victory at the state championships for two consecutive years. He talked about aiming for the Olympics, and everyone thought he could make it. But in the meantime, they were grateful that he agreed to come work at our school. It made the institution seem that much more prestigious, with an up and coming swimming star serving as coach.
But Zander didn't carry himself like a big shot, nor did he pressure everyone to act like swimming was their life like a lot of other sports' coaches. There was something approachable about him, an energy that drew you to him. If I was going to spend an entire semester participating on a sports' team, I wanted to be with people who made me feel comfortable, and there was no one who put me at ease like Zander.
He had dirty blond hair, blue-green eyes that were lit up when he laughed, and the most perfect body I had ever seen. His chest was like a work of art, every cut in his abs and pecs sculpted in symmetry with every muscle. He had small pink nipples, and there wasn't a hair to mar that amazing build. There wasn't hair anywhere on his body, actually – not on his arms or legs. I don't know why I enjoyed that so much, but I did.
Of course, I wanted to make the team, but it wasn't a high pressure situation. The instant I dived into the water, any thoughts of competition floated away, and I let my body surrender to the gentle current of our outdoor pool.
My dad was going to teach me how to swim, but food poisoning kept him inside and unable to bark orders at me. So, I took some swimming classes at the YMCA. Without the inevitable screaming my dad would have poured on me, I was able to relax. Maybe that was why I enjoyed swimming so much. There were finally memories which my dad had nothing to do with – my time in the pool was only positive, especially with Zander praising my backstroke and butterfly stroke.
It was going to be a hard choice narrowing it down. The only obvious cut was a boy named Xavier, who was having trouble staying in the water too long without flailing like a fish. When he accidentally inhaled water up his nose, he spent ten minutes trying to calm down. I felt bad for him, since it was obvious that he was trying his best. At the very least, Zander was almost always at his side, encouraging him to keep trying, and helping him with technique.
So, I was surprised when Zander announced that Xavier had made the team, calling him the "secret weapon." I was happier for him even more than I was for myself. Two other sixth graders made the team, and the other three boys were encouraged to come watch us practice and even join in at any time they wanted. The rest of the team consisted of six seventh graders, and four eighth graders.
When it came to our varying skill levels, Xavier was in a practically in a class all his own, and sometimes the older kids got on him about it, shouting at him to "hurry up." The eighth graders weren't above swearing to make their point. "Move your ass" was the most common phrase they threw at him, until Zander told them to knock it off. Zander always stood up for Xavier, and even though I wasn't as outgoing, I wanted to support him too. The other two sixth graders on the team were best friends from Kindergarten. Since we were both the new kids without any friends on the team, it only seemed natural that we would gravitate towards each other.
And we did. Being around Xavier made me happy. He had a positivity that made it hard not to smile whenever I was around him. Sixth grade was the first time I brought a friend over to my house, so my mom went crazy with the cooking, making a meal that rivaled a Christmas feast in size. It was way too much, and my dad grilled Xavier about everything he could think of: what his parents did for a living, where he intended to go to college, and which profession he was aiming for. Even though Xavier was bubbly around me, he was pretty shy around other people, and I was afraid my parents would scare him off. But he answered every question with a smile, and complimented my mom on every dish. It was incredible.
He told me that he didn't want to let other people get in his head, and that it was important to give his best in everything. That was what Zander said.
Xavier talked a lot about Zander, sometimes working our coach into the conversation when he didn't have anything to do with the subject. And even the mention of Zander never failed to bring a goofy smile to Xavier, like he couldn't contain his excitement from just thinking about him. I didn't think it was weird. Even though I didn't worship Zander, I really enjoyed being around him. Given that Zander was Xavier's biggest fan, it made sense that my friend would feel so strongly about him.
We slept over at each other's houses a lot, more often in my room than his, which surprised me. My dad was a little worried that Xavier wasn't the "right kind of person" I should be hanging around, because he didn't have every detail of his future planned out, but my mom was on my side. She said I looked so much happier when Xavier was around, and not even my dad could deny me a friend.
Xavier and I slept in my bed. There was more than enough room for both of us, and there was an explainable sense of comfort that came from lying next to him, talking about whatever came to our minds. I usually just slept in my underwear, but Xavier was a little more modest. He didn't even like changing in front of me, and definitely hated changing after swimming practice.
Even though he tried to summon every last of confidence he had in the locker room, Xavier always looked deathly uncomfortable showering and changing in front of the other guys. He was quiet, and kept to himself, which made him an easy target for some of the older kids, but they usually got bored after a while. It was never malicious teasing, but the eighth graders liked to think they were the best, and maybe they were. But Xavier was constantly red, afraid to look up for more than a second.
All the guys on the swim team had nice bodies, and they were all hairless. The eighth graders actually had a decent amount of muscle, which only served as another reason for them to show off. They would flex in the locker room with nothing on but their speedos, and sometimes naked. That was when Xavier looked the most uncomfortable, and had to turn around a lot, like he was hiding something. I never brought it up because I didn't want to embarrass him, but the other guys sometimes jeered him on.
"Hey you guys, let's put on a show for Freckles. It'll loosen him up."
That was what they called him, "Freckles." He had a light smattering of freckles across his face, mostly around his nose and cheeks. I never called him that, but the other guys used that nickname all the time.
The older kids circled around Xavier, and were obnoxiously loud, flexing their arms and chests like they were the world's biggest body builders. It was kind of funny, but it was obvious how terrified Xavier was. Luckily, Zander came into the locker room, and broke it up before Xavier died from embarrassment.
"Do you think the guys have it out for me?" he asked me one night. As always, he was wearing a white T-shirt and blue pajama pants, while lying in bed next to me. "They always make fun of me."
"They're just being stupid. They don't mean anything by it."
I wasn't just saying that to make him feel better. As annoying as the eighth graders could be, and even some of the seventh graders, I never thought it was personal. Maybe Xavier was a bit of an outlier, and I probably was too, but for the most part, we were a pretty cohesive team when it came to swimming. When I beat a previous personal record, the older guys cheered for me the same way they did for each other.
"I bet Zander gets into the Olympics. I saw him practicing in the pool at lunch today. You don't think he'll leave the school, do you?"
"I hope not. I don't think I can handle you breaking down."
It was a joke, but when I looked over and saw the serious expression on his face, I instantly regretted it. But before I could sputter out an apology, he turned onto his side and looked at me. He looked nervous, like he might throw up at any moment.
"Can I tell you something? About Zander?" I nodded. A joke about me already knowing every detail of Zander's life thanks to Zavier popped into my head, but I stayed silent. Clearly, Xavier needed me to listen, and not talk right now. "Do you ever get this weird feeling in your chest? Like it's super tight, and it's kind of hard to breathe? I feel like that all the time around Zander. My heart beats so fast that it feels like he can hear it. I really like him, Lee...I mean, really like him. Like the other guys talk about girls."
I was still silent, unsure if he was done, and trying to process everything he was telling me. Had Xavier just come out? I couldn't say I was particularly surprised. In fact, it made everything make much more sense, especially his discomfort in the locker room, and why he always seem to have a towel wrapped around his waist when the other guys had no issue striping naked.
He was looking at me, waiting for me to say something. I could see he was starting to break out into a sweat. "That's cool."
It wasn't an inspiring tour de force, but Xavier smiled at me all the same, and I felt like I had just pulled him out of the deep end.
A couple hours later, I woke up when I heard something close to my ear. Somewhere between a whine and a moan, it was a sound unlike any other I had ever heard before.
"Zander, hmm..."
Soon there was weight on my body, and a raging hard-on pressed against my crotch. Bombers weren't anything new to me. All of us guys got them in the locker room, sometimes during practice. I could see them when the guys wrestled with one another. Those speedos didn't leave much to the imagination.
It wasn't a big deal. It was probably just the skin-to-skin contact that did it. Aside from some good-natured teasing, nobody really mentioned it. But despite being used to erections, this was the first time I ever felt one pressing against me.
I panicked. Should I wake him up, and deal with the inevitable awkwardness, or let him finish? It was hard to think straight with another guy rutting against me like this.
All of my senses seemed to sharpen to hypersensitivity, while Xavier ground our erections together. I couldn't help but get hard, but with Xavier on top of me, rolling his hips against mine like his life depended on it.
I took fistfuls of his shirt when he moaned Zander's name, my friend's voice hot and wet against my ear. From the way his pace quickened, and his gasps and moans came out in sputters, I could tell that he was close, and I was right there on the edge with him.
Our orgasms were nearly simultaneous. My toes curled and my stomach muscles tightened when I came, hard. It was wet and messy, and I could feel Xavier shuddering against me the whole time, which only made everything more intense.
He was panting in my ear, and I think he may have whispered my name, but I was so far gone that I wasn't really sure of anything.
I didn't tell Xavier about what happened, which made me feel a little guilty, but was there really any need to embarrass both of us? Xavier's desires should have been kept private, except for the ones he wanted to tell me, and then I was all ears.
Under Zander's coaching, our season went pretty well. As the strongest swimmers, the eighth graders got to compete the most, but each one of us would definitely enter at least one race every meet. I wasn't incredible, but I held my own, and when my dad could come to watch me, he looked proud. My mom was at every match, which was a little embarrassing, but I appreciated the support.
I remembered the first time Xavier won a match. He had been improving a lot over the months, thanks to the extra hours he put in. On the weekends, we trained together at the public pool, and he began staying after practice to do private training with Zander.
When we had a match against St. Brandon's School for Boys, Xavier was entered in the one hundred meter dash. His breath control had gotten much better since he first joined, though we were all still unsure if he could do it. Xavier was the most unsure of us all. But Zander assured him that he could do it.
It all happened so fast, but the second Xavier pulled ahead of his opponent, our entire team was screaming our lungs out. The eighth graders were louder than anyone, not yelling at Xavier to hurry the hell up, but showing encouragement.
"You can do it, Freckles!"
And he did do it. We were a huge mess of bodies, hugging him and telling him how incredible he had been. Zander gave him a huge hug, and Xavier looked like he was about to explode form happiness. Unfortunately, I wasn't the only one who noticed.
"Dude, you get any harder and you're gonna rip your speedo in half!"
That was Jared, an eighth grader, the fastest swimmer on the team, and the one who came up with Xavier's nickname. He never thought about stuff before he said it, which wasn't really a bad or a good thing. That was Jared.
And he was pretty good looking, according to Xavier. With his beach bond hair, which he recently cut short, and deep green eyes, he had the most muscle out of all of us. I could see why Xavier thought he was cute, especially when he smiled.
But I wished Jared would have kept his mouth shut about Xavier's boner. I think we had all noticed it after he hugged Zander, but in the excitement of the win, I hoped it wouldn't draw any unwanted attention. Xavier had never been good with that.
And after Jared's comment, his face was on the verge of peeling off from overheating. It didn't help that he was still hard.
"I didn't know you liked dudes, and Zander? That's wild!"
It was then that I noticed Jared was hard too, a noticeable bulge filling out the front of his speedo.
The whole scene was surreal. I watched Jared unceremoniously grab the front of Xavier's speedo and grope him harshly. The instinct to run over and stop him was overpowered, or at least I was, by two eighth graders, who had huge grins on their faces. The seventh graders held the other sixth graders, so we all had to watch Jared pull Xavier's swimsuit down, and stroke the hard dick that sprung out.
Zack, one of the boys holding me, was practically humbling my leg as he watched. And he wasn't the only one excited. He was touching my butt, thought I wasn't sure he was even aware that he was doing it. Regardless, his touch combined with the sight of Xavier thrusting into Jared's hand had me wishing I could pull off my own speedo, and free my dick.
It was a mixture of fear and arousal spread across Xavier's face. Everyone was watching him, but I think the attention only turned him on even more. The last time, he had been on top of me, and we were in the dark, but now I was getting the chance to watch him. Now I could see the way his thighs trembled, the way his body undulated in Jared's embrace, how flushed his face was and how pink his lips were.
Xavier's eyes widened and his voice cracked when he came into Jared's hand, a couple ropes of thick seed covering the eighth grader's palm. He couldn't even stand by the time his orgasm subsided, but Jared caught him.
"Freckles really lost it!" He brought his hand to his mouth and tasted Xavier's cum. "Sweet."
That weekend, Jared invited everyone on the team over to hang out, and spend the night. My mom was ecstatic, urging me to bring a gift to Jared's parents, and stressed the "vital points of a sleepover" as being courteous, eating anything the host served, and a bunch of other points that drifted through one ear, and out the other. Middle schoolers didn't do "sleepovers." We weren't kids.
Even my dad was happy for me, and didn't insist on driving me there to meet Jared's parents, and give them the fifth degree. He believed that boys who could dedicate themselves to a sport at such a prestigious school must have been company, and after a reminder that these boys could be valuable allies in my social circle, he let the networking stuff drop, and told me to have a good time. And that's exactly what I did.
I had been worried that we would end up separated by our grades, but we all got along great. Instead of sticking to Xavier like glue, I played ping-pong with Rudy, a seventh grader who always wore a gold chain around his neck. It was a gift from his dad, who got remarried and moved across the country. They didn't get to talk much, but Rudy said the chain was like having his dad with him at all times, and was adamant about only taking it off in the showers, or in the pool. I also had a video game-tournament with Mike and Oliver, two seventh graders, who tended to act immature. They were constantly fooling around during practice, dunking each other in the water, and made it their personal mission to yank down at least one person's speedo. Sometimes they were annoying, but they were also a lot of fun, and their refusal to accept defeat in our racing game had me grinning when I beat them.
After taking them down in the fifth consecutive grand-prix, I decided to look for Xavier. Even though he was coming out of his shell rather quickly, I knew his shy nature could still get the best of him, and I didn't want him sitting alone in a corner somewhere while the rest of us had fun.
My search ended when I heard sucking sounds, and low moans. I tip-toed toward the door. I thought my heart was going to leap out of my chest when I saw Xavier on his knees, one hand buried in the front of his shorts, and his mouth wrapped around the tip of Jared's dick. Standing next to Jared was RJ, which was short for Randy Junior, but he hated being called that. Even though he was a dedicated swimmer, he also love skateboarding, and sometimes slipped into the lingo with words like "sick" and rad." He was never shy about showing off his body in the locker room, a trait which seemed even more pronounced now that he was completely naked.
Xavier alternated between them, sucking on Jared's cockhead, before switching to RJ's. His inexperience was clear, pulling off every couple of seconds to catch his breath, and coughing furiously when his gag reflex was agitated. Still, Jared and RJ both looked they were about to collapse from the pleasure coursing through their bodies, and I had a hard-on uncomfortably tenting the front of my shorts.
Soon, I wasn't the only audience peeking. Zack had snuck up from behind, and shoved his hand down the front of my pants. He used his free hand to cover my mouth from making any noise, which was probably necessary, because as I thrust into his hand, my whole body was shaking. And when he grabbed my balls, I nearly lost it.
It didn't take very long for all of us to pile outside the door, fighting to get a good view, and not make too much noise and alert them of our presence.
"Cumming," Jared said, teeth and eyes clenching as he jerked off over Xavier's face, ropes of cum shooting across Xavier's cheeks and forehead. RJ came almost right after, coating Xavier's face with another fresh load.
After the two eighth graders came, it was like the flood gates had been broken. The whole team forced their way into Jared's bedroom, and shoved their pants and underwear to the ground, masturbating so quickly that it looked like they were racing. Maybe they were, all of them competing to see who could blow his load over Xavier's face. Zack still had his hand down my pants, and was humping me from behind.
The room was filled with various grunts, whimpers, and various voice cracks as everyone popped their nuts all over Xavier, and not just on his face. They came on his chest, his legs, his feet, anywhere. After Xavier had stripped, any inch of his bare skin was fair game. Seeing Xavier dripping with cum, I came in my shorts, Zack jerking me off through the duration of my orgasm while he succumbed to his own.
We all skinny dipped in the pool to clean off, the guys quickly falling into their pattern of horsing around. Xavier and I got cleaned up, and toweled off while the rest of the guys took their time.
"I liked it," he admitted with a sheepish smile. As long as he didn't feel obligated, I was okay with whatever Xavier wanted to do.
The bond between our team continued to strengthen, and our rankings in swim meets continued to rise. Xavier really was the secret weapon Zander had predicted, but not because he evolved into a super swimming threat, but because he brought us all together. There were a couple more repeats of that night, though I never made Xavier suck my dick. I knew he enjoyed messing around with the guys, but I also knew more than anything, he wanted to be with Zander. We both knew it was impossible, but what kind of friend would I have been if I didn't give him hope that maybe something would happen someday?
After the eighth graders graduated, things fell apart for the swim team. Xavier and I entered the seventh grade, but Zander had moved back to his hometown after some "family emergencies." He left during the summer, so we never had a chance to find out the real reason, or a chance to say goodbye. Xavier was heartbroken, so much so that he quit the swim team. We still hung out, but we didn't see each other as much now that we didn't have practice together. And some of the seventh graders jumped ship after Zander left. So I mostly hung out with Zack, who grabbed my butt a lot.
But there were no more big sleepovers, or team bonding rituals. It wasn't as fun anymore, but I never quit. That freeing feeling of letting the water take over my worries never faded.
Peterson Prep School was an all boys' school, where all the students wore uniforms: a white button-down shirt, matching navy blue jacket, tie and slacks, and black shoes. That didn't bother me too much, but the fact that my dad arranged for me to enter this school without allowing me to look at any other schools made me resentful. And he knew exactly how to capitalize on that feeling, constantly reminding me that he was spending a lot of money, and I was being ungrateful. As far as I was concerned, it was just another exercise in his power trip, and what other choice did I have?
I was a high school student now, not some kid who didn't have an ounce of freedom. Now, it was about complying to my dad's wishes, but doing so in a way that made me happy, or doing so before he could beat me to the punch. Knowing that my dad wanted me to join a club right after at the beginning of my freshman year, I stopped by the AAA table at the clubs' fair.
Honestly, I had never really given my ancestral history that much thought. Sometimes, we went to Korea during the summer on vacation, but I never really spent time wondering what it meant to be half Korean and half white. I didn't actively ignore my Korean heritage, but it just never really phased me. So a club dedicated to Asian Americans wasn't the most intriguing thing to me, but Calvin, the president called out to me.
He looked way too handsome to be real, like he was a member from an Asian idol group. With his jet black hair, and smile and dazzling smile, he had a certain aura about him that made me stop and take notice. I had just been walking aimlessly past all the booths, listening to overexcited upperclassmen shout out about how awesome their club was, but Calvin just stood there, chatting with the other AAA members, who were all pretty handsome as well. It was like he didn't care who stopped by the booth, which made it feel all the more special when his eyes met mine, and he smiled at me.
"Hi there. Would you be interested in joining AAA?"
Rather than fill me in on a club agenda filled with boring meetings and discussions about racial identity that were sure to make my head hurt, Calvin let Jessie, a junior and vice-president of the club, man the booth, while he walked with me around campus.
He was really friendly, walking with his arm around my shoulders and looking me in the eyes when I said something. Calvin told me about the school, which rooms in the library had the best ventilation, and the nearby cafes that had the best vanilla cake. This guy was eloquent, but approachable, and carried himself with boundless confidence. My dad would have gone crazy over him.
Thirty minutes had passed by the time we returned back to the booth, where all the guys greeted me with warm smiles. I didn't hesitate in signing up.
I was pretty sure that clubs weren't allowed to turn away members, which was why I was both nervous and surprised when Calvin informed me that AAA was initiating a test to see if I would fit in with the group. He let me know that there were three other boys being considered, and that all of us probably wouldn't make it. But he also told me that he had a good feeling about me, and not to worry.
Honestly, I was tempted to boycott the whole thing. This was a high school club. Was there really any need for exclusivity? But I had already told my parents about it, and my dad wouldn't understand sticking up for what seemed right. He would tell me that sometimes being part of a group meant putting your own feelings aside in order to better yourself. So I spent an hour and a half getting ready, and arrived at Calvin's house ten minutes early—not too early to look like I was trying too hard, but early enough to know I took punctuality seriously.
"Lee, good to see you," Calvin said, putting his hand on my shoulder. He kept it there as he walked me through the foyer, and into the living room.
Calvin's house was huge, a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, which was painted blue and white, and was clearly Roman influenced. The attention to detail was incredible, which could be said for all the rooms in the house, at least the ones I saw. Complementing the décor sounded like the proper thing to do, but maybe that was best saved for when his parents were around. Just knowing that thought passed through my mind would have made my mom ecstatic.
The other three freshmen and potential future members were Brendan, Chase, and Takuya. Brendan was extremely confident, maybe even a little cocky. He chatted with the upperclassmen like they were old friends, and took sips of the red wine Calvin and some of the older kids were drinking. I did take a sip when Calvin led us in a cheer, because it seemed rude not to. But I had no interest in alcohol, unlike Brendan, who couldn't get enough of the stuff.
Chase was a lot like me, on the quieter side, seeming to try to take everything in. The juniors really seemed to like him, and he seemed a little embarrassed by all the attention. He was wearing a white sweater, and unconsciously tugged on the sleeves while he was talking. I liked him.
Takuya was Japanese, and had lived in Osaka until he was ten, when he moved to America. He was pretty good at English, though sometimes he slipped into Japanese. And it took him a little while to answer questions sometimes, whether that was because he was thinking of what to say, or how to say it, I wasn't completely sure. He arrived wearing white button-down shirt with the top few buttons undone, which made me wonder if he always dressed like that, or if he specifically chose to unbutton his shirt for this occasion.
"As members of AAA, we believe in presenting the best image possible," Calvin said. "And in order to do that, we have to act as one. We saw something special in the four of you, and think with a little training, you will be able to maintain our rhythm in public and in private."
He nodded towards David and Matt, the only two sophomores in the club. We were all sitting around in the living room, circled around the red and gold trimmed carpet, where David and Matt stood and embraced each other. I gripped the leather couch when they started making out, my mind filled with flashbacks to my middle school swim team.
Chase was clearly just as caught off guard as I was, his eyes so wide that they looked like they were about to pop out of his head. But he didn't look away. His focus on the two sophomores was unbreakable. Similarly, Takuya looked like he didn't know what was going on. Had he ever seen two guys kiss before? Although David and Matt had passed "kissing" a couple minutes ago, and were now practically "tongue-fucking." Matt's hands were firmly grabbing David's butt, and they didn't seem to be going anywhere else for a while.
Brendan was still downing red wine while he watched, hand massaging his crotch, which Calvin took notice of. He smiled.
Once the "demonstration" was over, us four freshmen were paired off: Brendan and I, Chase and Takuya. Everything was happening so fast, but before I could register any of it, Brendan's lips were on my own, and he was shoving his tongue down my throat. He definitely wasn't wasting any time, which I was honestly a little glad for, because as weird as it was to be doing this in front of a group of guys that I didn't even know, I was having my first kiss, and it was hot.
As the minutes passed, I became more proactive in the kiss, rolling my tongue around Brendan's. My eyes rolled to the back of my head when he started sucking on my tongue. Where on Earth did he learn all these tricks? It was clear that he had vast experience, but I was more than willing to go along for the ride.
A quick look to my left showed me Chase straddling Takuya, who had lost his shirt. Chase was sucking on his nipples, butt raised high in the ear, grabbing all the upperclassmen's attention. I could see why they were so entranced by it. I was pretty turned on from watching it sway back and forth myself.
But my attention quickly shifted when Brendan pulled down my pants, and sucked me off. I groaned and thrust into his mouth, trying to control my hips, but they seemed to be moving on their own. I didn't know what I was being judged on, whether coming too quick would make them take points off their mental evaluations, but when Brendan sucked on my balls, I lost it, coming all over his face with an orgasm so strong that my entire body shook.
I was accepted into the group, and so was Chase. Takuya didn't pass for not getting engaged enough with everything going on, and Brendan was too much of a loose cannon. As a freshman, he would be at the bottom of the pack, and he was more of a take-charge kind of guy. There were no hard feelings, though, and he said "hey" whenever we passed each other in the halls.
That weekend, Chase and I were invited to Calvin's house again, but this time, only Calvin and Jessie were there. After what had happened the last time, I knew what to expect, and my dick was throbbing in my briefs in response.
"You're really cute," Calvin said. He stroked my cheek, before leaning down to kiss me. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and stood on the tips of my toes to make our heights a little more even.
Luckily, Jessie was a little shorter, so Chase had no problem accepting his kisses while they pressed their bodies together.
Unlike Brendan, who went straight for the action, Calvin was slow, methodical. With every article of clothing that he stripped from my body, he left a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses along my bare skin. Soon, I was naked, and my dick was so hard that it was starting to hurt.
Calvin's body was incredible covered in clothes, but when he stood in front of me, completely naked, I felt like a little boy. He was a senior while I was just a freshman, but he had the kind of body that would be adored by the masses. I couldn't help but chuckle to myself when the thought of him being on a Calvin Klein underwear box came into my head, the irony of the name connection giving me a little relief from the heat that was coursing through my cheeks.
He had the right amount of muscles: enough to be bulging and eye-catching, but not so many that he looked like some body-builder hopped up on steroids. Having been on the swim team, I was used to seeing naked bodies, but we were just middle schoolers back then. The eighth graders were just starting to build some muscle, and they had strong calf muscles from swimming so frequently, but none of us had been in the same league as Calvin. None of us had even been three leagues down from him.
And his dick. Fully hard, his dick looked to be about six and a half inches, way bigger than any of the ones I had ever seen or touched. When he closed the distance between us again, and pressed our dicks together, wrapping his big hand around both shafts, I groaned and thrust against him. My hips were out of control again. He was circumcised, and had a huge mushroom shaped tip, the perfect helmet-head. I held onto his biceps to steady myself, sighing when those hard muscles flexed beneath my palms.
"Suck me," he whispered, his tongue sliding up along the curve of my ear.
The thought of having that huge cock in my mouth was both intimidating and exciting. I didn't have any experience, and I wanted to do a good job. But when I looked up and Calvin stroked my hair, my desire to please outweighed my heavy nerves.
Chase was sucking Jessie off, who has his legs spread wide, and was moaning the younger boy's name like it was a mantra. And I had been there the first time Xavier blew someone a couple years ago. Maybe experience wasn't the deciding factor in a good performance. What was it then? Because I had plenty of that.
Sitting on my knees between Calvin's legs, I wrapped both hands around the senior's shaft. A little pre-cum was trailing from the slit. I pressed my thumb against the head, gently rolling it around the flared head, listening to the low moans that were flowing from Calvin's mouth. Holding the hard dick and his heavy balls, I marveled at Calvin's size, before remembering Calvin wanted my mouth, not my hand.
I was only able to take about half of the length in my mouth before my gag reflex was agitated, but my tongue was running over every inch it could get to. It was obvious that Calvin was fighting back the urge to wildly thrust into my mouth without abandon, so I tried bobbing my head between his legs to simulate the sensation.
"God," Calvin moaned.
Looking up, I saw all of Calvin's muscles, not a single hair marring that smooth skin. Was this how Xavier felt when he looked at Zander? My heartbeat was on constant acceleration, and my eyes tried to absorb every muscle, every cut of his abs, every vein along his arms, and burn it into my memory. Was he going to come in my mouth? The thought of his thick seed gushing down my throat, so much cum shooting from that dick that it came overflowing from my lips, and down my chin, had me so worked up that I couldn't help but reach down and grab my dick to give it a few rough strokes.
My jaw was getting sore, which Calvin seemed to sense, because he slowly withdrew from my mouth. A high-pitched whimper caught my attention. Chase was bent over the couch, Jessie's hands spreading those firm round globes, and licking along his entrance. Gross.
How could Jessie voluntarily put his tongue in such a dirty place? Even if it was well cleaned, and I had no doubt that Chase was down there, it was the idea of licking and sucking a spot that was more often than not used for something so disgusting that freaked me out. But all of those worries fleeted when Calvin guided me into the same position, and began rimming me.
In such a short amount of time, I was learning so much about my body. With Calvin's tongue sinking a little deeper into my hole, I gripped the couch and spread my legs wider, keening for him to do more. I wasn't sure who initiated it, or whether or not the upperclassmen guided us to do it, but Chase and I were kissing, whining into each other's mouths as Jessie and Calvin tongued our tight holes.
Calvin's fingers were completely different than his tongue, first one, and then two stretching me open. His moves were full of confidence, full of assurance, his slender digits pushing my inner walls apart through a scissoring motion, and rolling in concentric circles. It was like stars were bursting across my eyes when he pressed against that spot deep inside me, one that had my body trembling and my dick on the verge of shooting cum all over Calvin's couch. But before I lost it, he pulled his fingers out.
Lying on my back on the red carpet, I winced as I felt Calvin press into me. Being filled this completely was an indescribable sensation. It was a little painful because Calvin was so big, but not entirely uncomfortable. It just took some getting used to, and Calvin was willing to wait, rubbing my stomach, and licking my ears. I really liked when he did that, though feeling his tongue, so wet and heavy inside my ear was still a little weird.
I wasn't sure whether or not seeing Chase ride Jessie on the couch had anything to do with it, but I wanted Calvin to move inside me too. There was no competition anymore. Both of us had made it into AAA, but I wanted to at least keep up with Chase, and of course there was the dizzying sensation of Calvin looking at me, his eyes radiating pure warmth.
Every muscle in my body seemed to tense together, all centering at the tightness of my hole. But the more he thrust into me, the looser I became, the better it felt. And when he hit that spot against me, with more force than he had been able to get with his fingers, my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I was his.
He was pounding my hole, his balls slapping against my butt cheeks, while he sucked on my neck. There was definitely a mark on my neck. I could feel it. And he was licking it. I didn't know how I was going to explain to my parents why I had a hickie on my neck. At that moment, Calvin was the only thing in my universe, every thrust of his dick pushing me a little further into the deep end of ecstasy.
When Calvin came inside me, my toes curled and my mouth hung open. His cum was so warm, and there was so much of it. I could feel it gushing from my hole, his dick still hard and buried to the hilt inside me. But even hotter than feeling torrents of his seed plunge through my insides, was watching him lose control. All of his muscles, which were glimmering with sweat, tensed up and I could see the veins in his neck throb as he pounded my butt with sharp, quick thrusts. The usual perfect way he carried himself was momentarily completely forgotten as he surrendered to the basic instinct, the need to come.
Afterward, Chase and I came. Jessie and Calvin watched while the two of us kissed and rutted against each other in the middle of the living room. It was just like David and Matt had done a couple nights before, but I had my two fingers deep inside Chase's butt, and he was sucking on my tongue like he was trying to take it off. I came so hard that I thought I was going to black out.
That was how the rest of freshman year went, AAA meetings usually nothing more than the ten of us members hanging out, and chatting about whatever while we ate lunch together. Calvin was always extremely affectionate with me, and we would kiss in the private corners of campus. Chase and Jessie were like that too, at least from what Jessie told me. I felt a sense of camaraderie with him, and without realizing it, we became best friends.
We studied together in the library in a corner along the back shelves where nobody really went, and we were prone to long kisses, and a little groping. It seemed too natural not to happen. We were naked around each other so often, and studied each other's techniques when we were in AAA. Both of us had made out with, and got fucked by every member, though I was with Calvin more than anybody else, and Chase with Jessie.
Calvin graduated and got into his first choice of college, which I knew he would. It wasn't like we were dating or anything, but I was pretty broken up about it. As always, Calvin didn't miss a beat, and after his graduation party, which had way too many drunken seniors for my liking, he let me stay over. I slept in his bed, and we cuddled. And then we made love, me pushing my dick between his legs. That was the only time I was ever on top, and I actually liked bottoming better, but in those moments when I was thrusting into him, I felt a connection that couldn't be replicated.
We didn't talk much after he graduated, and though it bothered me at first, I got over it. After all, he was in college now, and was doing his own thing. What would he want to do with a kid like me?
Besides, I had swimming to keep me busy, and Chase and I continued to grow even closer once our class schedules aligned more closely. I really liked his parents, who were super open about everything. Chase's dad took both of us camping during the summers, trips which my dad always refused because he was too swamped with work to take any time off. I knew that was just an excuse, and that he didn't want to go anywhere without technology, but I didn't mind. I had the chance to be out in nature without him breathing down my neck. Those days, Chase and I hiked and swam, and it felt like the rest of the world ceased to exist.
We snuck off to go skinny dipping after Chase's dad fell asleep, and he caught us once when he was on his way back from a midnight trip to the bathroom, but he just smiled and told us not to stay up too late. I was mortified, but Chase's kiss took the edge off.
Going back home after those trips felt like returning to the stifling routine of reality. I dreaded having to spend the rest of my summer doing part-time jobs for my dad and his clients, meeting their sons, who were more interested in sneaking booze from their liquor cabinets than anything else. When I was in the wild, I felt free, a feeling I didn't really get to experience until I went to college.
It wasn't like I let loose and took every opportunity to party until my brain cells evaporated. I wasn't really interested in having that college experience, but I did go to the first few parties, and had a couple beers. My roommate was super straight-laced, so he never went with me, but we got along all right. We had a Shakespeare themed English together, so when there was nothing else to talk about, that class became our common ground.
By that point, Calvin and I had completely lost touch. And Xavier and I were Facebook friends, but, contrary to what everyone thought in high school, that didn't count for much. Aside from liking each other's photos and status updates, we didn't have any actual communication. I wondered if he ever managed to get in contact with Zander again, or if he had a boyfriend, but those questions seemed way too personal for where we stood now. From his profile picture, with his hair shaved on the sides, and eyebrow piercing, it looked like he outgrew his shyness. Good for him.
College was doing me good too. For the first few months, my mom called me every weekend, and gave my dad the phone so we could chat a little, though those conversations were always super stiff.
How are your classes? That translated to how are your grades?
How are your friends? That translated to are you hanging around the right kind of people?
Are you having fun? That translated to you're not being irresponsible, are you?
That pressure to perform well followed me into college, but, aside from math, I was able to handle my classes pretty well. I wasn't working hard just to impress my dad, but because it was important to me. I wanted to do well for me. So it was extremely difficult to have my math class stand in the way of an otherwise pretty fair ride in academics.
Joining the swim team was a great distraction, and the guys were great, but when they wanted to hang out, I had to decline half the time so I could work on getting my grades up for math. They didn't really take studying seriously, and didn't understand why I would even bother, which made meeting Colby a huge relief.
It felt like I had an ally, someone who understood my math-based frustrations. Plus, he was really easy to talk to. He was more like a buddy than a friend, and when he revealed that he was gay, it felt like our connection deepened beyond belief. This was different kind of friendship than it had been with Xavier or Chase. I felt something more when we fooled around together. We didn't even touch each other, but feeling his eyes on me while I worked my cock in a steady rhythm was one of the hottest experiences of my life. It was even hotter than messing around with Trevor and Dylan.
What was the feeling pressing against my chest when I watched him kiss Trevor? Jealousy?
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