Date: Fri, 24 Apr 2015 14:09:17 -0400
From: Andrew Phillips <andrewphil69@gmail.com>
Subject: Andy & Sean (Part 12)

[Author's Note:  My muse has returned.  He says I should continue.  So I'll
return to the saga of Andy and Sean and others in their lives, and the
others in the lives of those others: a great network of humanity driven by
urges with which each member is born, not always of his choosing, though
free will requires that choices be made all the time.

For earlier episodes of this continuing story search in nifty.org for "Andy
and Sean" or "He and I"

I would appreciate any feedback and suggestions from you, my readers.  I
aim to please you, so don't be shy.  Email me at andrewphil69@gmail.com.
Thanks, Drew.]



Part 12 – A hot summer begins (same as Part 16 in "He and I" in Adult Youth)

Andy and Sean (aka He and I), after falling in love and finally fulfilling
their lust for each other in the most explicit ways during a wild and long
weekend in nearby Springfield have come home to a summer of swimming,
family life, work, and the challenges of continuing their relationship, not
to mention their mutual sex.  The day after returning, Tuesday morning,
they risked having those carnal pleasures in the middle of jogging.  After
which they realized the potential for major, unwanted consequences.  New
persons are about to enter their lives which only makes their lives more
complex, and pleasurable.  That's where we pick up on each of their
narratives:

Andy (Me):

On Tuesday afternoon I returned the call my mother told me I had gotten
from Chad, my future roommate. He had heard about the swim meet coming and
offered me a place to stay on Saturday night, if I were to come the day
before the meet.  I said it would depend on how I was going to get there.

On Wednesday I put my mind to how to earn some money this summer.  Hugh
Jones, who owned a landscaping firm, Green Pastures, in town, had asked
whether I wanted a job over the summer.  It paid $10/hour and I could work
30 hours a week.  I could do better waiting tables at the Yellow Submarine,
but I thought the physical outside work would help keep me in shape.  So I
had decided to take him up on it.  It would begin next Monday.

On Thursday I showed up for our swim team practice. There were 10 swimmers
and 2 divers and, of course, Sean Allcock our coach (and my lover).  Sean
and I were determined to keep our "relationship" a well kept secret.  The
swimmers were 18 to 21 years of age, either in college, or like myself,
about to begin.  Many were or would be swimming for their colleges, so
staying fit and in practice was a very serious matter.  I looked over the
lot, many of whom had swum for my high school.  We would not only do pool
laps, but we'd run several miles on the nearby track and put in an hour a
day in weight training as well.

While the divers practiced their own stuff elsewhere they had to be on call
if we were down a man in a race.  So we all practiced together. They may
not be very fast but you never know when one opponent would be disqualified
and we could pick up a point for coming in third in a 4 person race.

My new perspective made me keenly aware of the potential pleasures that I
could give and receive from having sex with another person of the same sex.
So I looked over the almost dozen teammates with that in mind, always in
mind.  They all wore the briefest of swimsuits, leaving little to the
imagination.  Many were pretty hairless, naturally, like myself, or by body
shaving.  Shaving not only removes the drag of hair on your chest or
arms/legs but, I'm told, it might produce, as a result of removing the dead
skin cells, an enhanced experience of slicing through the water.  Anyway,
many swimmers do it.  A few even shaved their heads.  Of course there was
no point in shaving what was in their swimsuits, evidenced when we showered
after practice.

But in surveying this group of lean, muscled swimmers I could tell much
more about them through eye contact than looks.  Of the group two guys,
Tommy and Tim, held eye contact with me a little longer than I would have
expected.  The two were as different as day and night, but there was
something about their response that gave me a funny feeling.  Was I
developing my gaydar?  Perhaps one or both were gay?  I didn't know at the
time, but I was sure I could find a way to test my hypotheses.  One test
came sooner than I imagined.

The practice went well.  The meet was set for the upcoming Sunday in
Springfield.  Sean said he was going over the day before, on Saturday, and
wanted to know if I wanted a ride there.  I told him about Chad's offer to
put me up.  I could see his disappointment about such an arrangement, but
he said he was happy to take me.  I think he remembered our memorable trip
back on Monday.  I surely did, and was determined to give him that mobile
bonus again.

After swimming laps I decided to run a couple of miles on the nearby
track.  Tommy Olsen was also running some laps.  Tommy was among the
tallest members of the team, a bit over 6 foot.  He was handsome, broad
shouldered, blond with a buzz cut.  He had a friendly face with a slightly
lopsided boyish smile.  Shy and very polite, he always addressed the coach
as "sir."  It was no surprise that he came from a military family, his
father a recently retired non-commissioned officer in the Marines.  Tommy
was in my high school class, arriving the same time as Coach Allcock, at
the beginning of his junior year.  Those "military brats" really moved
around a lot.  Most usually made friends quickly, but Tommy was quite shy.
Once he joined the swim team I got to know him a bit, but he tended to keep
to himself.

Anyway, as I joined Tommy on the track we nodded to each other and ran in
tandem.  Then Tommy started to pick up the pace and I kept up.  He then
again sped ahead, looking back at me with that friendly, off center smile
of his.  I caught up and we were going at quite a pace until he suddenly
balked, holding his right calf and shouting out in pain.  Apparently he had
gotten a cramp.  We stopped as he limped about, trying to work it out.  I
told him to sit down with his legs in front of him and I would push the top
of his right foot toward him.  That helped a bit.  Then I suggested a
massage of that calf muscle might help.  He agreed and I could feel the
knot is his well-defined calf muscle as I kneaded it.  He leaned back and
closed his eyes as I ministered to his problem.  In a minute or so I
suspected that I was not only relieving his pain but giving him pleasure as
that cute smile spread over his face.  "That feels great," he said.  I took
this opportunity to rub his leg a bit higher, my fingers stroking the
inside of his knee, a site that I found an especially erotic one in
myself.  He suddenly looked up at me and gave me a penetrating glance, the
smile replaced with an open mouthed gasp, but, luckily, no frown.  We held
that eye contact for a long time continuing as I offered my hand to lift
him up.  And once up he held my hand a bit longer than necessary.  Now I
knew.  And I think he knew.  And he knew I knew.  He smiled and quietly
said, "Thanks."

Sean (He):

Well, back to the routines of home.  I couldn't get my mind off the
spontaneous sex Andy and I had Tuesday morning jogging.  I relived the way
he made sure his cock was sufficiently lubricated before entering me, and
the ecstasy to which I was sent as he repeatedly penetrated me, bareback!
That internal massage my prostate received from him was only matched by the
total body contact he gave me as he reached around and jacked me off.  How
thoughtful.  I loved the way I could feel his muscled chest and abs on my
back and bum, while his hand stroked my erection.   How wonderfully erotic!

Wednesday morning, I was dying to return the favor, but with no immediate
opportunity I combined my vivid memory with the help of my left hand (since
I jack off with my left hand) while penetrating my anus with my right
middle finger, to bring me to an orgasm while showering the next morning.
I watched my loads of jism hit the side of the stall and slowly and
viscously run down.  It wasn't the same by a long shot but it wasn't so bad
either.

I didn't see Andy again till Thursday's team practice.  He was clearly
keeping his distance, as did I.  Our fear of revealing our special
relationship might even have appeared to be a mutual antipathy.  All
business.

But I think Andy was a bit more adventurous with others than I as he looked
over his teammates.  And they at him.  There was no doubt that he was the
handsomest man there.  Others may have had equal physiques, but he had the
most lovable face and attractive smile.  But, clearly I was biased.  And a
little jealous.

I had fantasized the last two days that we might could repeat the last
weekend we had in Springfield, so decided to drive to Springfield a day
earlier for our Sunday meet.  At the end of practice I mentioned my travel
plans, hoping.  He mentioned that a guy named Chad, his future roommate and
a diver for the Springfield team, had invited him to stay with him on
Saturday night IF he came early, so he would take me up on my offer.  It
was too late for me to back out of it.  And in any case my memories of that
very memorable trip back home on Monday prevented me from trying to.  Any
time with Andy, alone, would be worth it.  So I said I'd pick up at 4 on
Saturday afternoon.