Date: Sat, 21 Aug 2010 02:06:55 -0400
From: Jason <sterling.jason (at) gmail (dot) com>
Subject: Scot's Seduction - Chapter 3

Bisexual   adult/youth  MF bM  MM

Scot's Seduction
Part 3 of 7

By Jason Sterling
(sterling.jason (at) gmail.com



Before I left the apartment the next morning I told
Scot to be sure to be home that evening because we
were going to go to the Gym after we ate and do a
dip in the pool and he could work out on some of the
bodybuilding equipment they had.  Scot reminded me
that he had packed his backpack with only a few
items and a bathing suit was not with him here in
my place.  I told him to not worry about having a
suit because where we were going he didn't need one.


I brought some carryout sushi home with me from one
of my favorite Japanese stores on the way home and
even though Scot wasn't too thrilled eating a meal
he described as "what I would use as bait to catch
me some real fish", he ate it more to please me than
anything else.  After eating I told him we were
going to the 'Y' about ten blocks away and we would
walk there, allowing our food time to digest.  I
told him the only thing he needed to bring was a
jockstrap, a pair of cotton shorts and a change of
socks.  The Nikes he was wearing were fine, but he
needed them to not be the ones he walked there in.
The people at the YMCA frowned on using the same
foot apparel in the workout rooms as the ones we
normally used on the street.


The formidable old building that housed my local 'Y'
had been constructed in the twenties, back when a
place like that was considered more of a men's club
where women were excluded, business deals were cut
and an 'old boy' network prevailed.  The rich, brown
solid wood front desk, beautifully ornate, was the
centerpiece around which all the other adjoining
rooms were modeled.  Reading and lounging areas were
crowded with overstuffed furniture, thick Persian
rugs and a lived-in, musky smell abounded.  I got
Scot registered as a guest and I took him down the
long steps leading to the locker rooms and the pool.
The farther down we went the stronger was the smell
of chlorine wafting up from the "Natatorium" as the
signs on the walls said along with an arrow pointing
downward.  The smell of the disinfectant happily
covered the aroma produced by three quarters of a
century of male sweat and body odor that had
permeated these walls.


I had a regular locker tucked in the back corner
with my own combination lock protecting a few
sweat soaked items and found more than enough space
for Scot to hang his few things.  We both stripped
and I led us to a shower area where a big notice on
wall proclaimed, "Showers Are Mandatory Before
Entering The Pool Area."  Scot shrugged and said
it seemed like a waste of time, but we both soaped
down and rinsed before we stepped into a foot bath
that blocked our way to the pool.  I just explained
that these people had a 'thing' about not spreading
athlete's foot fungus around.  Scot retorted,
"Where's the place to dip my dong?  I'm more likely
to spread clap around this joint than foot itch."


When we stepped into the pool area I had my first
real good opportunity to see this beautiful, young
creature in full glory.  He manfully walked over to
the edge of the water, stuck his foot in to test its
temperature and walked confidently to the back end
of the room to use the springboard at the deep part
of the floridly mosaiced tank.  On his walk to the
board I noticed quite a few glances from the other
swimmers watching this lithe, graceful lad as he
strode with inner self-awareness around the side of
the pool.  He seemed to relish in the fact that his
youthful beauty could turn heads.  Other than being
shy or bashful around a group of naked men, Scot was
enjoying being looked at.  The slow and deliberate
walk he took to the end of the springboard and the
few practice bounces he made once there were only
his way of flaunting his physique.  Then in one
graceful bound he dove off the board and slipped
into the water as smooth as a hot knife cutting
butter.  This kid sure turned out to be a drama
queen.


Scot didn't spend much time actually in the water.
He constantly climbed out and sauntered a different
way each time back to the diving board.  He also
made a game of seeing how far he could swim under
water after each dive before he had to surface for
a breath of air.  As a tease he singled out only the
more attractive men in the pool and swam through
their legs, if they hung down in the water, on his
show of being able to hold his breath longer than
most people could do.  This side of his personality
was something new to me about him.  He wasn't the
shy, inept, naive teen that he first appeared to be.
He was looking for the spotlight, not hiding from
it.  After I did my usual twenty laps of the pool I
climbed out and told Scot that I was going into the
steam room and he could join me later or I could
show him the workout facilities now if he wanted.
He chose going with me.


After a quick rinse, mostly to get rid of the smell
of the chlorine on my body, Scot put on his sneakers
and shorts and followed me to the fitness training
area and I introduced him to a few of the regulars
who seemed to spend all their free time lifting
weights and trying to get themselves pumped up to be
what I considered to be ugly and muscle-bound.
I pointed out to Scot where I'd be and clad only in
the Y supplied towel went off the the sweat soaked
wooden planks that protected ones bare ass from the
heat of the room.  Several other inhabitants were
in there either sitting high up in the top tiers of
the various levels or prone, half sleeping on the
lower and cooler locations, but all of us enveloped
in a cloudy haze of live steam that was denser than
a natural fog one could encounter on a fall evening.
The only light in the room was a sealed, glass
protected bulb halfway up the wall next to the door.
It cast a glow only around the entrance.  If one was
toward the back of the room it was practically dark
there.


One by one guys came and went, but after awhile
there were only two of us still sweating in the
room.  The other denizen was a fellow whose name I
never knew but was familiar enough to me to know he
was into feet in a fetish sort of way.  When it was
obvious we were alone, the foot guy hung his towel
over the protective glass enclosure of the light
making it nearly as dark as a cloudy night would be
if we were out in the country.  He sat on the lowest
level of the steam room and knelt before me kissing
my feet in an obsequious manner testing whether or
not I would object and walk away or let him proceed.
I let him caress and massage my feet to his heart's
content which only encouraged him to delve deeper in
his exploration of my pedal extremities.


Soon he was sucking my toes individually and licking
out the supposed crud between them, all the while
having a look of intense pleasure on his face as if
he was lost in an orgasmic dream.  I momentarily
awakened him from his reverie by saying, "You know,
I charge for this!  I want the same attention paid
to this cock of mine after you're done getting your
kicks by sucking my tootsies."  The foot fetishist
looked up at my opened towel exposing my cock being
slowly pumped with my right hand and said, "I just
want you to know I'm not a fag.  But I'll do what
you want only because you've given me so much
pleasure fondling these two lovely feet."  With that
he moved up one tier so his face was level with my
open and exposed groin area and reluctantly put the
tip of my penis in his mouth.  After several minutes
of very shallow sucking where his lips hardly ever
went further than a few inches into his mouth, I
reached to grasp the back of his head and force a
deeper insertion.  After a bit of gagging and trying
to pull back from the enforced penetration my sucker
finally gave in and allowed me to use his throat as
a substitute cunt, which it was.


My reluctant fellator tried to pull away when I shot
a load in his throat, but my hand behind his head
prevented him from withdrawing.  When I was sure
that he was done with his repayment obligation I
released him and he went over to the side of the
room and spit and sputtered as much cum out of his
mouth as he could cough up.  Just then Scot came in
the door and said that he was done with all the
exercises he was going to do and would meet me by
the locker after one final dip in the pool.  I told
him to come sit down for a few minutes because there
was a fellow I wanted him to meet.


I turned to the foot guy and said, "This young man
is my nephew Scot and I wanted him to share in the
wonderful experience you have given me this evening.
I'll leave you two alone now, to get acquainted, and
I hope you please him as much as you did me."  With
that I left.  As I was going out the door of the
steam room I looked back and saw the foot guy with a
big grin on his face walking to where Scot was
seated and I heard him say, "Hello.  My name is
Bill.  Do you mind of I look at your feet?  I may be
able to relieve any problems you may have caused by
shoes that don't fit properly."


I went back to the showers and soaped myself down,
not only to wipe off the sweat but to clean up the
possible spit left on my now wrinkled cock by Bill
when he was paying for his fetish fantasy.  Just the
thought of where this guy's mouth had been before he
he sucked up all the 'toe jam' from god-knows-who
before he worked on me turned my stomach.  The same
things went through my mind when I've allowed my
asshole to be licked by some queer and he wants to
kiss me after the rim job.  No Way!


I was still drying out and partially dressed when
Scot returned to the lockers.  He had a big grin on
his face.  "Where did you ever get to know a guy
like that?  I've never had my toes sucked on before,
but it was something I won't forget."  I did my best
to explain to this kid that life is an infinite
number of experiences, all to be sampled at least
once.  Some are educational, pleasurable or are
downright disgusting, but until you've at least
tried them you'll never know how varied and
interesting life can be.  This was the subject that
we talked about on the long walk back to my
apartment.


I may not have realized it at the time, but I was
laying the foundation for a seduction of this
youthful beauty however much I knew how morally
wrong this would be, let alone the legal aspects of
corrupting an underage minor.



End of Part 3

Comments and/or suggestions always welcomed