Date: Sun, 29 Aug 2010 14:55:30 +0100
From: Alex P <alexp336@gmail.com>
Subject: On the Poolboy Payroll 1

It's fiction, it's gay themed and if you shouldn't be reading it -
because, say, you're under 18 (unlike any of the characters) or you
live somewhere that frowns on it - then don't get yourself into
trouble by sticking around. Everyone else, welcome aboard. It's been a
long time since I wrote anything like this, more from lack of time
than from motivation and ideas, but a few delayed flights and some
waiting around in airports allowed me the opportunity again. Bit of a
slow start, perhaps, but things get more sordid later on; I've also
very obviously left things open for a part two, so there'll probably
be more (and it'll probably be a whole lot more salacious, too).

Thoughts, comments and general feedback to alexp336@gmail.com - find
me a writer who doesn't want to hear from their readers and I'll choke
in surprise. Thanks!

===

On the Poolboy Payroll - Part One

***

It was the usual scrabble for the right coins, and I silently cursed
myself for never thinking ahead and making sure I had the exact two
dollars the gym locker demanded.  The membership fee was obviously
enough to satisfy them I could use their shiny equipment, but not that
I wouldn't monopolise a whole bank of lockers for whatever nefarious
deeds their imaginations could come up with.  I'd have to think on
that one; I obviously wasn't quite as devious, as beyond bringing
eight bags and stowing them all, I couldn't think of a single way to
misuse them.

"Need some help counting there?"  The voice was - obviously,
considering the locker room I was in - male, and joking, but my
wise-cracking response was cut short when I looked up to see who'd
asked me.  I knew the guy from previous workouts, though never enough
to actually talk to him.

Instead, he was something of an inspiration when it came to where I'd
like to be with my fitness in a few years time.  Early to
mid-twenties, he had not only a few years on my own 18, but a few
extra layers of muscle and definition to boot.  Narrow, swimmer's
waist; broad shoulders and thick - but not obscenely so - arms, his
chest was a Mens' Health pictorial of six pack and the rest.  Crowing
it all was a handsome, youthful face, dark brown hair and engaging
eyes.  Oh, and a smile - a great smile.

"I can count, I'm just not getting the number I need" I told him,
probably blushing as I said it.  I'm not saying I'd been staring at
him, whenever our gym sessions overlapped, but I'll admit I kept an
eye on his routine to see if I could pick up any tips and perhaps take
a shortcut to his ripped body from my not-quite-lanky but certainly
slimmer physique.  Today he was finishing his session as I was hoping
- locker pickiness notwithstanding - to start mine, and he had
obviously paused mid-changing to talk to me.  The pair of dark blue
boxer-briefs he was sporting (and nothing else) certainly did the rest
of him justice, though I took care not to stare at the
European-branded waistband and healthy pouch up front.

"Short a few?" he asked, reaching into his own locker a few doors down
and, I could hear, jangling some change.  I grimaced.

"Ha, always - blame a junker of a car that seemed like a bargain at the time."

He grinned, giving me the nod of someone who had been there before,
perhaps with his own first car.  "Always something wanting money,
right?"  I smiled back.  "Car, apartment, girlfriend..."

 I could feel myself blush again.  "Well, still live with my folks,
and no girlfriend.  Not right now.  I mean, no... no girlfriend."

Let's get this straight, just because I don't have a girlfriend - have
never had a girlfriend - it doesn't mean I'm not interested in girls.
I mean, they're interesting and all, and pretty sometimes.  I'm just
waiting until I look as good as I can before I, you know, start
playing the field.  The girls aren't going anywhere in the meantime,
that's what my dad always says.

"Okay, no girlfriend, I get it" he said, holding out his hand with a
pair of dollar coins in the palm.  I scooped them up and turned to the
locker, stuffing my rucksack inside.  "I'm Alex, by the way."

"Cooper; thanks for the loan - I'll pay you back."

He shook his head, that broad grin back on his face.  "Don't worry
about it, I remember being, what, 18?  Yeah, always something that
could do with another few bucks, right?"

"Right," I smiled, sheepishly.  There was a bead of sweat picking up
speed down his right pectoral, headed to the chiseled expanse of his
abs, and I was trying hard to keep from staring at it.  Just as it
poised at the curve beneath his nipple, he brushed a hand across,
flicking against the hardened nub and rubbing a thumb down, over his
stomach and brushing it off against the slightly shiny blue fabric
stretched across his hip.  I made eye-contact again just in time to
see that damned grin and, perhaps, the hint of a wink.

"Look, I have a way you could make a little extra money if you're
interested, maybe get that junk-heap back on the road a bit sooner?"
He ran a hand through his short, sweat-spiky hair, bicep flexing
roundly.  Man, I wished I could get my hair to do that: even after a
half hour in front of the bathroom mirror with all the styling junk I
could afford, it always ended up a messy mop of dark blonde.

"If it pays better than the couple bucks from the news store, I'm
interested!" I replied, quickly.  Then, a little more cautious, "what
exactly would it involve?"

Now the wink was definitely there.  "Nothing serious, in fact you're
basically getting paid to sit around.  Kinda like a lifeguard but
you're never gonna get asked to save someone."

"A lifeguard?"  I was confused; our town didn't have a pool, and the
gym only had a jetspa and a steam room.  "Where would that be?  I
don't have a lifeguard's licence."

"Heh, no, it's a private pool and you don't need a licence.  As I
said, you're not actually going to be a lifeguard.  Think of it as
helping set a scene - my friend just needs a couple people to hang out
around the pool, make it look well-used, that sort of thing.  An
afternoon sitting in the sun, you make a hundred-twenty bucks and
everyone is happy."

I had to admit, it sounded too good to be true.  A full day heaving
boxes at the news store round the corner left me thirty bucks better
off at the end of my shift, hardly scratching the new fuel pump,
gearbox and various other parts my dad's mechanic friend told me my
frustration of a car needed.

"Where and when?"

***

Two days later, sun baking the asphalt and rucksack over my shoulder,
the bus dumped me at the end of a long, wide street.  I'd had to check
online to figure out exactly what route would get me here; my family
never really had much cause to end up in the upscale part of town.

It certainly put our neighbourhood to shame, and we weren't exactly
living miserably.  Lots of trees, no highway noise and big, private
walls and sturdy looking gates.  If you hated seeing other people and
hated other people seeing you, this was definitely the place to have a
house.  I checked the scrap of paper Alex had torn from a
private-training leaflet in the locker room and scrawled the address
on; I had a couple houses to walk past before I reached my new
employer, but thanks to the well-spaced lots that took more than five
minutes.

Finally I was at the gate - the side entrance, like Alex had suggested
- and hit the buzzer.  Despite the crappy quality I could tell it was
him who answered.

"Cooper, my man, come on in.  I'll be right round."

The lock screamed and the door tipped open; I stepped through onto a
bush-lined path that curved over to, and around, a wide, low, two
story house far more modern than what you'd expect.  Lots of glass and
steel and white paint - neat stuff, though plenty of glare from the
noon sun.  I started out toward the house, reaching the corner just as
Alex jogged round.

At first glance, I thought he hadn't bothered changing from our
meeting at the gym.  Shirtless, with a baseball cap half-tugged onto
his head and a pair of flip-flops, the bright blue fabric stretched
across his groin certainly looked like the figure-hugging boxer briefs
I'd struggled to avoid staring at the previous day.  After a few
snatched glances, though, I realised they were a Speedo-style
swimsuit, narrow at the sides and then with a full, contoured pouch at
the front.  A pouch that was eye-openingly full, I couldn't help but
miss.

"Cooper!  Good to see you, you found it okay then?"  He reached out
and grabbed my hand, pumping it hard.  There were those biceps again.
And that grin.  "What do you think?"

He gestured around, but I couldn't help but think he was also asking
how I thought he looked.  Feeling the hot blush once again making its
appearance, I made a show of looking at the minimalist house and
gardens.

"Awesome, all awesome man."  I wasn't sure whether his wink was down
to the perceived compliment or my embarrassed reaction.

"Come on round and meet the gang, then we can get you set up and you
can start earning some money!"

I followed as the path curved round the side of the building, trying
not to stare at how the iridescent lycra clung across his high, full
ass.  Trickier said than done, given how his upper thighs and buttocks
flexed with his pace.

"We'll go in and get you introduced to the boss."

Alex led me into what looked like a pool house - I could see the
shimmer of water through the windows on one side and out through the
other.  Inside was the guy I could only assume was the boss, a tall,
thin black guy in his early thirties, talking quickly into a
cellphone.  Alex waved toward him to get his attention; the guy cupped
his hand over the mouthpiece of his phone and jerked his chin as if to
ask "what's up?"

"This is the new guy" Alex explained, "Cooper.  Ready for his first
day on the job."

The black guy looked me up and down, frowning.  "What the fuck is
that?" he hissed quietly, still shielding the phone.

I had dressed for the pool, Alex's comments about lifeguards perhaps
leading my color choice at least.  A pair of mid-length red swimming
shorts and a white vest; flip-flops on my feet and a little gel in my
hair.  I didn't know if I'd actually be swimming or, as Alex had
hinted, just "setting the scene" around the pool area itself, so I
didn't want to make too much effort and end up with a limp wet mop on
top of my head.  All in all I looked set for the beach, or so I'd
thought: my new boss obviously thought otherwise.

"You know he's not going to go for that" the black guy scolded Alex,
"get him changed."  He turned away, back on his call.

Alex beckoned me out, looping an arm around my shoulders and
whispering conspiratorially into my ear.  "Don't worry about Tony, my
friend, he just stresses out.  We'll get you set up okay."

We'd stepped out of the pool house proper and into the smaller
changing rooms, all wooden slat benches and a couple of matching
lockers.  Alex pointed to one for my bag and began rummaging in
another, as I stood awkwardly wondering exactly what had fell short of
meeting Tony's so-far inscrutable standards.

"Now, that red is good on you, so we'll just pick something more
flattering the same color," Alex explained, turning from the locker
with what looked like a scrap of material in his hand.  Spreading it
out - and beaming that almost perpetual grin again - I realised it was
a swimsuit, only one a whole lot more form-fitting than the shorts I
was currently wearing.  Squarecut at the sides, made of shimmering red
nylon, it was frankly something I'd never consider wearing even if it
were underwear, never mind as a swimsuit in public.

"Whoa, that's... small" I stuttered, as Alex waved the suit in my direction.

"Hell yeah, Coop, you know it makes sense.  I've seen you in the gym,
remember, I know you can pull this off.  Miles better than those baggy
things you're wearing, it'll look awesome.  Quit worrying and get
changed!"

He tossed the swimsuit at me, and as I caught it I realised quite how
soft and silky the material was, and how sparkly it was in the halogen
spots of the changing room.  I had to admit, I was curious.  While I
knew I couldn't wear something like Alex seemingly had no qualms about
- his Speedo being practically an order of magnitude more revealing,
and something I was still having trouble not staring at - I couldn't
help wonder how the suit would feel against my skin.  Something told
me it would feel even nicer holding my cock than it did my fingers; I
felt my groin give a little lurch at the thought.

"Okay, if you say so.  Where should I change?"

Alex laughed.  "Dude, we haven't got all day, just get it on and let's
get poolside!"

While I was certainly used to getting changed in a public locker room,
it felt somehow different when it was just another guy and I there,
even if Alex and I had been getting on pretty well up until this
point.  Still, it didn't look like I had much choice, and I hardly
wanted to make a big deal out of it when it obviously wasn't for him,
so I stepped out of my flip-flops and pulled off my vest.

"We'll make a body builder of you yet, my friend" Alex laughed, making
it obvious he was checking out my chest.  I couldn't help but preen a
little at the attention - his own physique was far more advanced.  I
even flexed a muscle or too, mostly jokingly, but quietly hopeful that
he might be approving.  "Dude, showing-off is for the pool, let's get
out there so you can do it properly."

I bit the bullet and hooked my fingers into the elastic waistband of
my shorts; I wasn't wearing anything underneath, relying on the
sewn-in liner to keep things in place.  I'd brought a simple change of
clothes in my bag, just in case I'd actually ended up getting wet.
Resisting the temptation to turn around from Alex's persistent
appraisal, which I felt would look too obviously coy, I swivelled my
hips a little so as not to be fully face-on with him, pushed my shorts
down and stepped out of them.  A flick of my foot kicked them up so I
could grab them and dump them with the rest of my discarded clothes on
the bench.

"Wasn't too hard, was it dude" Alex smiled.  I wasn't exactly an
exhibitionist, but I had to admit it didn't feel as weird as it
could've.  Thankfully I'd kept from properly boning up earlier, but my
cock was a little thicker than it would regularly be.  I guess I'm
halfway between a grower and a shower, usually: about six or seven
inches when I'm hard, and then a couple inches shorter the rest of the
time.  Dirty blond pubes like my hair but, beyond that - and a smudge
under each arm - I'm naturally pretty smooth.  It was a hot day - the
beads of sweat that continued to drip down Alex's chest were evidence
of that - and my balls were hanging pretty low; a decent handful if
I'm in the mood to grab a hold of them.  Alex made no attempt to hide
his checking out my equipment, and just like I'd shied away from
turning my back on him before, I didn't want to look too keen to get
the swimsuit on and my cock covered up like some bashful kid.  Not
that I expected the suit to do much in the way of covering.

"Decent, my friend, decent" Alex told me, "now get suited up - you'll
have plenty of time to swing that thing later."  He chuckled and I
joined in, though I wasn't completely sure what exactly the joke was.

The Speedo certainly lived up my hurried expectations: it felt totally
different to anything I was used to having hug my balls!  The stretchy
nylon whisped against my hips, the waistband sitting low and just
above the line of my pubes.  Meanwhile the squared-off leg openings
cut across my thighs from the base of my crotch.  Certainly more
coverage than Alex's skimpy choice, but - as I adjusted my cock to lay
across to the left, and tugged my balls up front - equally revealing
in its own way.  Seeing I'd done arranging my bits and was peering
down to see just how much of a show I was making of myself, Alex
grabbed my shoulders and spun me round to face a full-length wall
mirror behind me.

"Fucking hot, dude, total score" he praised, and I was tempted to
agree.  While I lacked his etched abs and slab pectorals, my narrow
waist neatly tapered down into the suit and its spartan coverage not
only helped my thighs look fuller but my shoulders broader too.  I
flicked my fingers through my hair, spiking it up again at the front.
There.  Just right.

"Now you're posing again" Alex chided, laughing at me.  "Let's get you
out there."

Guiding me by the shoulder, he led me round the corner of the changing
room and out to the pool, a long curved lozenge of clear blue water.
Sun loungers dotted the tiled surround, while a bar area sat
underneath a couple of potted palm trees at one end.  Tony had
obviously taken his conversation outside; still on the phone, he again
covered the microphone and nodded shortly in our direction, mouthing
"better".

We were, I realised, not the only people outside.  Two of the sun
loungers were occupied, each with a youth I guesstimated roughly my
age.  One black, one asian, they each were soaking up rays and wearing
nothing other than swimsuits and sunglasses.

"Brad, Cat!" Alex called out; the two boys sat up on their elbows.
"Come meet our new guy."  The black guy stood, stretched lithely - his
arms high above his head, twined like a cat - and began to pad round
the pool toward us; the asian kid was closer and quicker, jumping up
from the lounger and stepping over to where Alex and I stood.

"Cooper, this is Cat" - the asian guy held out his hand, and I shook
it - "and this is Brad."  The black kid joined us and reached out his
own hand.

"Welcome aboard" he told me, very obviously running his gaze from my
eyes down my torso, down to my feet, and then back up again.  "I see
they've got you in uniform."

It felt like permission to, if not stare, then at least check out
their swimsuits a little more closely than you might feel comfortable
doing at the pool.  Brad was wearing a squarecut like mine, only
electric-blue rather than red, and with a dipped waistband at the
front that exposed the razored stubble of his pubes.  It did a good
job of directing your eyes to what packed out the front, too: the very
obvious curve of his cock bowing out and down, hugging the two
sizeable nuggets of his balls.  Overall, his build was good -
certainly better than mine, though falling short of Alex's gym-honed
physique.  A rippled six-pack, decently curved thighs and wide,
rounded shoulders.  Honey-brown eyes, a reasonably slim nose and
thick, full lips completed the package.

As for Cat, the Asian youth was significantly thinner than any of the
rest of us, with a dramatically tapered waist that looked several
inches narrower than my own 29-inches.  Low on his hips rested the
narrow waistband of a racing swimsuit, cream and maroon, with the
number 45 just offset from the pouch and so little material involved
he was practically naked.  Everything Cat had - and you know the parts
I'm talking about - was pushed together into one hefty bulge up front.
 Mischievous eyes, thinnish lips and a button nose rounded out a
grinning, cheeky face.

"I hope you're up to be worked hard?" he asked me in a somewhat
accented voice, hands on hips.  "I can certainly see what Alex spotted
in you."

I grinned back, abashed.  "Doesn't seem like I needed much in the way
of skills, to be honest, just sitting around a pool as background."
Cat frowned slightly, then grinned again.

"Yeah, something like that.  Thing is, sometimes what's in the
background grabs your attention, and then you have to step up and
deliver."

I was getting confused, and seeing as how I hadn't been all that
certain beforehand that didn't exactly leave me on top form.

"I'll certainly try" I told him, honestly, glancing over to where Brad
stood with a knowing smile on his lips.  "And the cash is a good
incentive!"

"Ha!" Brad laughed, sharing a look with Alex and Cat.  "Yeah, the
money always opens plenty of doors."

I was saved - or at least my uncertainty distracted - when Tony strode
quickly out of the main house and toward us.

"Right, guys, get moving.  He's on his way."

Cat and Brad moved back to their respective sun-loungers, each draping
themselves over the wooden benches as if nothing more pressing than
catching a tan on their minds.  Alex gently pushed me toward another
lounger further round the edge of the pool, closer to the door of the
pool house.

"Sit here; he's going to want to see you first."

I didn't have enough time to ask exactly who "he" was; seemingly my
new boss, even though I'd thought Tony had that role.  Instead I
concentrated on sitting as casually as possible, trying to remember
every catalog and advert pose I'd ever seen, and drape my body into as
close a facsimile as I could.  As a result, I probably looked more
uncomfortable and out-of-place than if I'd simply dropped down onto
the lounger and thought about something else entirely.  Sitting
forward, with my elbows resting on my knees, and I ended up
hunch-backed.  Leaning back, propped up on my forearms, and it looked
like I was doing everything possible to draw attention to my crotch
and the skimpy red swimsuit that barely covered it.  Any pose
in-between felt even more forced and artificial.  I could feel my
blush returning, was horrified to think it might be spreading across
my shoulders and chest.  How could sitting - something we do multiple
times every day - be so difficult?  Visions of losing what would
probably be the easiest job I'd ever be asked to do flooded my head;
if I'd bothered actually telling anyone about my new employment,
they'd only laugh me out of town when they heard I couldn't actually
manage such a simple task.

What with my increasing paranoia, I missed my "real" boss' entrance to
the pool area.  Catching sight, I immediately felt underdressed.
Young - late twenties perhaps - white and medium height, slim in a
pair of dark blue jeans and a black shirt with rolled-up sleeves.
Barefoot, sunglasses on and messy dark hair on top; he dumped a laptop
bag onto a patio table and walked over to me.  Wide lips with a
pronounced Cupid's bow spread out into a grin.

"Looking as uncomfortable as you do, you have to be the new guy."

It was a statement, not a question, but I still felt the need to answer him.

"Yes, um, sir, I'm Cooper.  Thanks for the chance, I mean, the
opportunity...  Sorry, I'm not totally sure what I'm meant to be doing
yet!"  Yes, that was certainly the well-crafted, eloquent introduction
I had wanted to make to my new employer.

He cocked an eyebrow at me, almost as if unsure whether I was joking
or not.  Then, bizarrely, reached out and tweaked a tuft of my messy
hair, just behind my fringe at the front.

"Yeah," he smiled again, apparently convinced, "you'll do fine.  Good
to have you onboard, Cooper, you're looking good."

Then Tony was back, holding out another cellphone and muttering about
who was on the line, and Alex was giving me a double thumbs-up from
across the pool.  I was beginning to think my anxieties were all
unfounded, when...

"Cooper, take a dip in the pool why don't you."

I looked around to Alex again, questioning, but before I could shrug
at him in confusion he called out "sure, Simon, good idea; Coop, how
about we take a swim, right?"  I guessed this was to be the first task
in my new job - well, second if you considered the "uniform" - so
padded over to the edge of the clear blue pool and dived in.

Don't get me wrong, I love swimming.  When I was trying to shed the
last of the puppy fat, I'd hit the swim lanes; since then, I'd been
focusing more on weights to put some definition onto my frame.  Still,
I was happily at home in the water.  What was new was the swimsuit:
usually I wore swimming shorts, it never occurred to me to go skimpier
than those, and the cool outdoor water was very noticeable in the
tight, clinging Speedo.  I could feel the ripples and eddies rush past
me, sliding down my torso and across my groin and ass, the sensation
almost like bubbles rushing up between your legs in a spa.  I surfaced
in time to see Alex scythe into the water, an enviable dive to go with
his enviable physique, saw his legs kick out to propel him over to me.

The water splashed me in the face as his head popped up, both of us
treading water.  "Nice dive, new boy" he complimented me, glancing
poolside as he said it.  I followed his look, just in time to see
Simon smirk his approval before turning away to Tony and the proffered
phone.  "Si likes his guys to look good in the water, not just in the
outfits.  You got bonus points already."

I had more than a few questions, and now seemed as good a time as ever
- or, at least, an opportunity with Alex on his own in which to ask
them.  "Who exactly is Simon, and why does he want guys?"

Alex squinted at me, his expression a little like Simon's had been
before, as if trying to figure out if I was playing dumb or really was
asking.

"Simon is just a dude, a rich dude, hence this place.  He wants guys
around because he likes the way it looks - like, he's dressing the
scene with stuff that looks hot."

"He thinks guys look hot?"  I guess I was a little more naive than
even I'd given myself credit for.

"Yeah, genius, he thinks guys look hot.  He thinks I look hot, he
thinks Cat and Brad look hot, and I reckon it's a pretty solid
assumption that he thinks you look hot too."

I think my eyes must've bugged a little at that last part.  Alex frowned.

"Look, Coop, this is just a job - but if you're not comfortable then
you quit and walk out, right?  No carburettor is worth feeling unhappy
over, right?"

The mention of just one of the various replacement parts my bust-up
car required brought me back down to earth; in my mind's eye I could
see a $120 price tag hanging from it, the promise of a single day's
employment taking me one step closer to mobility and freedom.  All of
a sudden, getting hung up on someone wanting me around simply because
they thought I looked okay seemed a pretty childish reaction.  I mean,
hadn't I felt good when Alex was watching me get changed earlier, when
he'd seemed so impressed at seeing me naked?  People saw me in the gym
locker room all the time - I was there often enough - so why not get
paid for the privilege of doing nothing different?  Sure, the swimsuit
might not be my first outfit of choice but, as I again noticed the
current of the water brushing against the nylon second-skin, there
were certainly worse things I could be asked to wear.  The dorky
uniform at a fast food joint, for one.

The thought of a MacDonalds' yellow visor and 'would you like fries
with that?' made my mind up for me.  "No, no," I told Alex, "it's all
good.  Just a bit of a surprise, that's all.  Does that mean Simon is,
y'know...?"

"What, gay?"  Alex shook his wet hair, water flicking out across the
surface of the pool.  "Yeah, he's gay.  And with a taste for them
young and hot."

"You think I'm hot?" I scoffed at him.  Alex pushed me in the chest
playfully, fingertips against my pecs and grazing my nipples.

"Sure, you're hot... why else do you think I picked you?  Now stop
fishing for complements and let's do a couple of laps."

He took off across the pool, arms curving up and over in a
textbook-perfect front crawl.  I could feel the points where his
fingers had pressed into me, had to blink chlorine water from my eyes.
 Today was turning into a mighty unexpected first day at work,
certainly, but right now I had my honour as a swimmer to uphold.

***

Twenty laps later, it wasn't so much honour as respiration that was
worrying me.  It'd been a while since I'd done lengths, and I was
beginning to think I'd spent too much time concentrating on muscles
and not enough on general fitness.  The fact that Alex kept
"accidentally" knocking me sideways in the lane, either with an arm or
flailing leg, didn't help, and nor did occasionally seeing Simon
standing poolside watching us battle for pole position.  I found
myself wondering what my ass looked like from his perspective, only
abandoning such theories when Alex pulled a few body-lengths ahead and
I had to focus to catch up.  It was no small relief when I realised
he'd stopped rather than flipped to swim back the other way; our
impromptu race was obviously over.

"And here was me thinking you were a swimmer" Alex teased; I brought a
tired arm round to splash him.

"You only told me I had to come here and look pretty, you never said
anything about competing!" I replied, attempting to grin and pant at
the same time.  He stuck out a tongue at me, a surprisingly childish
act that made him look several years younger.  I could see, again,
what Simon might see in him.

"Out!"

I pulled myself over to the ladder, and began to haul my aching body
out of the water.  As soon as my head cleared the edge I could see
that Simon was watching me, the reflective gaze of his sunglasses
showing a tiny facsimile of myself.  I wondered what I looked like to
him, with my teenager's body and unruly hair.  Water trickled down my
torso; I stretched my arms up to the top of the handbars, flexing my
biceps a little as I did so.  I could feel the Speedos sagging low on
my hips, sodden and clinging.  Almost of its own accord, my cock gave
a lurch - at the attention, perhaps, or the strange sensation of
hugging wet nylon, maybe both.  Either way, I knew I was chubbing up
slightly, not a full erection, no, but a similar fluffed-out response
as when Alex had watched me adjust myself in the changing room
earlier.

The sunglasses meant I couldn't tell whether he was looking at my
face, my chest, or my crotch as it came into view above the edge of
the pool.  Something told me it was probably the latter.  I hadn't had
a huge amount to do with gay people - not that I had a problem with
them, it's just that, as far as I knew, I didn't have any gay friends
or family.  Having had a sheltered, though not religious upbringing, I
couldn't really remember my parents saying anything about gays either
way.  It was just one other thing that went without mention, like
jerking off or getting girls pregnant.

Simon half licked his lips, the tiniest gesture, and right then I felt
very much on show.  Like, perhaps, how a girl might feel at a
nightclub, when her revealing dress suddenly feels far lower cut when
the attention starts in earnest.  Only I wasn't a girl - I was an 18
year old guy, a man in many ways, being checked out by another guy
whose pool I had been swimming in, whose swimsuit I was wearing, and
who was paying me to be here, on show, for his entertainment.

It was a shocking sensation, but also an illicit one, exciting; I had
never looked at a guy and been attracted to him - thought he was
attractive, sure, but the two were different, surely - but being so
obviously appreciated for my looks touched some dormant exhibitionist
streak in me.  As I stepped over the top of the ladder to stand by the
side of the pool, I resisted the urge to scamper away to the clutches
of the nearest towel, and instead made myself stay.  Legs slightly
spread, arms down and held slightly away from my sides, head a little
lowered but still looking up to make eye contact with Simon - if,
indeed, my face was where his eyes were fixated.  Rivulets of water
ran off me, the sun beginning to warm as it licked across my
shoulders.  With each breath my stomach tensed, the bows of my ab
muscles defining and relaxing.

He was smiling at me, obviously in approval, and the expression pushed
me further on.  I reached down with my right hand and cupped the bulge
of my half-hard cock through the swimsuit, the whispy nylon feeling
slick against my fingers.  I could feel the firm ridge of the head
under my thumb, throbbing slightly at the attention, curled my fingers
under the heft of the shaft and very obviously adjusted myself.  Simon
nodded slowly, just slightly.

A high-pitched wolf whistle broke my reverie, and I snapped my head
around to the side.  Cat and Brad had moved to the same sun lounger,
Brad laying out flat on a white towel - his toned black flesh bright
and distinct against the fluffy white - while Cat sat astride his lap,
facing down toward his feet, gently rubbing up and down his legs.
Brad's hands were at Cat's waist, stroking up the Asian youth's torso
and then back down again, dipping to the front and across the tiny
racing suit, before making the journey up his body again.  His
expression was relatively blank, perhaps a little challenging, as if
waiting to see what my reaction to their public display of affection
might be; Cat's was far more open - he'd obviously been the one to
whistle at me - with an open-mouthed grin on his face as he took in
the show I had been putting on for Simon.

Their intimacy surprised me.  I mean, I knew Simon was gay - Alex had
just confirmed it - but I hadn't extended the thought out to consider
that anyone else here might be too.  Both guys looked supremely
comfortable with the contact, Cat's strokes as languid and relaxed as
a masseur's, while Brad's had a loving tenderness to them, a
playfulness that only got baser when he was pushing his hands across
the smooth curves of Cat's thighs and across his crotch.  I wondered
whether Cat was hard, and then realised I could see that for myself -
his suit was stretched out in a way that looked almost painful, the
scant material only ever designed for minimal coverage not a healthy
teen erection.  I then found myself wondering what Brad's hands
running across my own suit might feel like, the touch of another boy
against my cock and balls.

Without thinking, I'd begun gently squeezing my dick, shaping the wet
nylon around the shaft and feeling it grow in my hand.  I don't know
if it was the casual show Cat and Brad were putting on, or the thought
of another person touching me, but the mixture of attention and the
unusual situation was battering through my usual reticence and leaving
me feeling freer than I could ever remember being before.

A hand on my shoulder part-shocked me from my absent-minded staring,
as Alex drew himself out of the pool behind me.  I could feel the heat
from his body against my back, feel his breath on my shoulder as he
leaned forward to talk to me quietly.

"You're putting on a good show, dude, you're a natural."

I didn't know quite what to say - a natural what, show-off? - so I
said nothing, only smiled in gratitude.  His other hand gripped my
other shoulder, and I could feel his thumbs gently massaging my neck
and down to my shoulder-blades.  It felt amazing.  My head lolled back
and to the right, exposing my neck, and Alex worked up with his hand
until his thumb was tracing a curve all the way up to underneath my
chin.  Meanwhile, his right hand had moved down, under my arm, and was
cradling my side, his long fingers stretching up across my pectoral
and grazing against my nipple.

"There's only one tense muscle Simon's interested in, Coop" he
whispered, and I had to grin; we both knew exactly what our employer
wanted hard.  He was certainly getting his way, too: my hand was still
half-wrapped around my cock, now all but erect, and held lengthways by
the nylon across to my hip.  Occasionally I used my little finger to
graze the full bulge of my balls where they'd drawn up underneath.
Alex's hand, meanwhile, continued its path across my chest, first
cupping my pec and squeezing gently, before running down to strum at
my abs.  "You trust me, don't you Coop?"

Right then, half my blood in my dick, waves of pleasure radiating out
from where he massaged my neck and the flutter of his hand on my
seldom-touched stomach, I would likely have said yes to anything.  My
family wasn't tactile, there was no girlfriend on the scene, and the
end result was that I had been starved of human contact - physical
contact.  Someone else's hands on my body.  At this point it didn't
matter that the hands were another guy's, in fact that it was Alex -
who I admired both for his body and his easy-going personality - felt
all the more of a compliment.  I didn't trust my voice, so merely
murmured my agreement to his question.

In response, his massaging thumb was replaced with all four of his
fingers cupping my neck, cradling the base of my skull and gently
holding me still.  Meanwhile the hand on my abs continued south,
Alex's fingertips brushing softly against the sensitive band of skin
just above the waistband of my Speedo.  I shivered delightedly at the
touch.  Only a moment, and then he was moving again, across the wet
material and - pushing aside my own hand, my arm dropping to my side -
reached around to take hold of my cock.

I gasped, my body juddering.  It was the first hand other than my own
to touch me there, beyond my time as a baby at least, and the
sensations were overwhelming.  Foreign and yet perfectly natural
somehow.  Alex squeezed the flare of the cut head, as I'd been doing,
before running his fingers back along the length of my shaft.  He
dipped down to cup my balls, as if weighing them in his hand, his
thumb pressing carefully on the horizontal bone pushing against the
fabric.

"That feel good, Coop?"

All I could do was nod, my voice had disappeared - as had any
recognition of the scene around me, of the other eyes watching my
arousal.  Alex stepped closer to me, and I could feel his chest up
against my back, the wet skin slipping and sticking where it touched.
Firmness pressed against my ass, which I dimly registered must be his
own cock in his narrow suit; I couldn't tell whether it was hard or
soft, and with 99% of my attention centred in my groin I didn't really
give it much consideration.  Alex's hand left my neck - my head lolled
back against his shoulder - and moved across my chest, fingers finding
and pinching at my nipples, drawing out the buds to their full
hardness as his other hand kneaded at my dick.  There were feelings
coursing through me I'd never felt before.

Sure, I'd touched myself while I was jerking off - and sure, I jerked
off often enough - but when it came to the feel of your own hands
versus the unpredictable touch of another person, there was really no
comparison.  Just as the pleasure from one teased nipple started to
feel too much, he'd move on to the other, or down to pinch at my abs,
or even - maybe the most incredible feeling so far - reaching down so
that both hands were over my Speedo, one heaving my balls and the
other pulling languidly at the top half of my cock.

"I want to get you out of this suit, Coop.  I want to make you feel
good without anything in the way, and I want these people to see how
fucking hot you look.  That sound good to you, dude?"

It wasn't much of a decision, not really.  Where only a short time ago
I'd been self-conscious to stand naked in front of Alex alone, now the
thought of exposing myself to several more - and doing so with a full
erection, no less, being worked over by another guy - seemed the
obvious path to take.  I murmured my agreement, and felt Alex's thumbs
dipping into the waistband of my swimsuit, peeling the nylon down my
hips.  Without thinking I squeezed my eyes shut, as if that would make
me any less visible, but that was my only meagre resistance.

He guided the suit down, pulling it out to stretch over my cock, and
then giving it a final push to shift partway down my spread thighs.
My dick sprang out, free at last of the elastic confines, angled close
to 45-degrees from my body and the deep red head throbbing with
excitement.  For a moment Alex kept his fingers away, as if giving our
audience - my audience - an opportunity to see what I'd been hiding,
before his hands moved in again and gripped me, for the first time
skin-on-skin.

The feel of his touch against my bare cock was like electricity;
clichéd, yeah, but true.  One hand encircled the full, plump
thickness, while the other scooted fingers between my spread legs and
cradled my balls in his palm, fingertips rubbing at the hardened flesh
between my ass and my scrotum.

"You've got such a fucking amazing cock" he purred into my ear, quiet
enough so that only I could hear him.  "It feels awesome in my hand, I
love how wide it is, and I love the fucking big, swollen head of it.
Do you know you're oozing precum, Coop?  I'm stroking your dick and
there's big gobs of precum dripping out the head and all down my hand.
 Do you shave your balls, Coop?  They feel so smooth and soft, I just
want to keep tugging on them, and playing with them.  Everyone here is
watching me play with your big, fat cock and your big, juicy balls,
and they all want to be where I am."

I groaned, a clotted noise from the base of my throat, part animal
growl and part desperation.

"Look at them, Coop.  Dude, open your eyes and look at them.  They're
all looking at you, and they reckon you're fucking amazing."

I couldn't not do it; Alex's hands might have had my junk, but his
voice seemed to have a direct wire straight into the exhibitionist
part of my brain, the bit of my subconscious I hadn't even known was
buried in there.  Opening my eyes, I saw Simon sitting forward on his
chair, sunglasses off and held limply in one hand, gaze fixed on Alex
and I as my 18 year old cock was publicly milked.

Off to the side, Cat and Brad were also staring.  The Asian teen had
shifted forward, on his hands and knees above Brad's legs, his
micro-coverage swimsuit tugged down off his ass to sit just beneath
his smooth, curved cheeks.  His black friend's hand was busy fondling
the freshly exposed flesh; I couldn't see exactly what he was doing,
but I could imagine.  Fingers digging between Cat's legs to rub at his
dick, tug on his balls and then play across the cheeks themselves.
Was Brad finger-fucking Cat right now, dipping his long black digits
into the slender teen's tight ass?

The thought made my knees half-buckle, and Alex gripped my torso with
his strong, tanned arms, keeping me upright.  "Let's take this to the
lounger, yeah?" he whispered to me; I nodded mutely.  The closest
bench was a couple of paces away, and he propelled me forward toward
it.  I could feel his bulging swimsuit pushing against my bare ass, my
own Speedo a red tangle around my upper thighs.  All the time he kept
his hand on my cock, his fingers playing across the bulging underside,
his thumb occasionally sweeping across the sensitive, swollen head,
smearing the oily precum around.

He sat astride the lounger, legs spread wide, and pulled me down to
sit between them.  I automatically draped myself back against his
chest, his wet warmth radiating against me, my legs spread obscenely
broad with my feet flat on the smooth patio tiles.  Swimsuit forgotten
as it tangled around my left foot.  I could see, as though I was
watching from some third-party vantage point, it left me blatantly
open and exposed, my cock and balls centre stage to the show that
Alex's ever-teasing, ever-stroking hands were putting on for the guys
around us.

Looking down the flat, heaving expanse of my smooth, toned chest and
stomach, I watched as he milked my dick, running his fist thumb-first
down the veined length of it, palming across the insanely sensitive
and throbbing glans - fatter than I could ever remember seeing it, an
angry red colour with livid purple around the flared edges - and then
back down, all the time tugging at my nuts.  First separating them out
with his thumb, rolling each tenderly around - or, at least, as much
as my tightening nut-sack would allow - and then cupping them both
together, squeezing them deliciously and sending waves of heady
pleasure up and down my spine.

I watched as, across from us, Brad sat up behind Cat, placing the flat
of his hand between the Asian teen's shoulder blades and pushing until
his cheek was pressed against the bench and his back arched into the
air.  From my new vantage point I could now see everything I'd only
imagined at before; Brad reached between his friend's thighs, into the
confines of the swimsuit and pulled Cat's hard cock back and out,
hooking it against the twisted lycra that stretched between his legs,
and leaving the full underside of the shaft exposed.  Then he dipped
down, his head level with Cat's ass, and began to run his tongue from
the tip of Cat's leaking dick, up, across the Asian's tight balls, and
then up to his asshole.  Cat's head jerked up in pleasure, eyes
screwed up and mouth an almost perfect 'O', but his trapped cock meant
he was locked in position and helpless to fight - as if he'd want to -
Brad's teasing, persistent licks.

"Hot, aren't they Coop" Alex hissed into my ear, now squeezing the
head of my dick between thumb and forefinger, watching over my
shoulder as more gobs of glistening precum oozed out of the pouting
slit.  "Has anyone ever licked your ass, dude?  I hope so, because
you've got a fucking fine ass, it's just begging for some attention.
Do you finger-fuck yourself, Coop, when you jerk off?"  He ran a
thumbnail down across my glans, and I winced.  "Do you think about
another guy fucking you in the ass?"

"I'm... I'm not gay" I stuttered, aware of how ridiculous that sounded
given Alex's hands on my body and the live sex show I was watching
mere feet away, that was adding so hugely to my arousal.  And yet, in
my head, I wasn't gay; at least, it wasn't something I'd ever
considered before.  Yes, I'd checked guys out at the gym - guys like
Alex, with hard, tight bodies and workout clothes seemingly designed
to get them stares - but that was just healthy, athletic competition,
wasn't it?  I wanted to see how my body compared to theirs, not
because I wanted it pressed up against me.

But now I did have one of those bodies up against me, and it was
perhaps the one I had "compared" most often.  I couldn't argue against
the fact that what we were doing - or what I was allowing to be done
to me - was pretty gay no matter how you looked at it.  And even if
you said I'd been coerced, that my pent-up teenage horniness had been
taken advantage of by an older guy very much aware of his charms, that
didn't explain how much I wanted it to carry on, how amazing it felt
and - most damningly to my self-denial - how right it all felt.  I
didn't know if I was gay (and thinking it through while a guy ran his
fingers around my clenching, pulsing asshole, rubbing my own precum
into the twitching muscle, didn't seem like quite the right time) but
I knew I didn't want Alex to stop.

Cat obviously had no such qualms about his sexuality, and I could see
Brad was already pushing two fingers into the boy's ass.  At the same
time he was rubbing his own crotch, tugging at his obviously hard dick
through the shiny blue material.  The low-cut waistband had pulled
down to expose his pubes and, as he played with himself, sometimes the
root of his thick black cock.  Occasionally he would grab the shaft
fully and pull it out, against the swimsuit, and I could see the
pronounced ridge of his glans outlined.  Glancing up, we made eye
contact; he smirked and gave his cock a shake before forcefully
ramming both fingers knuckle-deep into Cat's ass.  The teen gasped and
tried to spread his legs further, hamstrung by the tight microsuit
around his thighs.

The scene - and Alex's touch - were pushing me toward the edge.  The
tip of his finger had begun to tease just gently into my ass, little
more than a light press inwards, but it only added to the feel that my
whole groin was electrified.  I was panting as he fisted my cock, the
veins running down the shaft angrily visible whenever his cock-drool
lubed hand left them momentarily exposed.

"Flip him over."  Simon's voice was quiet, but forceful; the voice of
someone used to being obeyed.  The hand Alex had been using to play
with my ass disappeared, and I felt his arm snake around my body:
using that, and his grip on my dick almost as a pivot, he twisted me
on the lounger so that my legs were back where he had been leaning,
raised higher than my torso and bent at the knee over the edge of the
headrest.

"He likes to be in control, and he likes to see boys getting off."
Alex was back to whispering at me, and I mentally clung to his calm,
reassuring voice.  His hand still rubbed around my dick, the hoop of
his thumb and forefinger twisting around just under the head.  "I
promise, Coop, I'm gonna make you feel fucking amazing.  Just go with
it, don't fight it, and you're going to have the best cum of your
life, okay?"

I couldn't quite bring myself to agree, not out loud, but I locked
eyes with him and he seemed to realise that was my assent.  With Alex
to the side of me, I could once again see the ripped chest that had
been pressed up against my back.  Reaching out, I pushed the palm of
my hand against his pecs, feeling the tautness of the muscles there
and the point of his erect nipple.  He smiled, not the knowing,
over-sexed grin Brad had flashed at me, while he punched his fingers
into Cat's ass, but an open, trusting expression that squeezed out any
lasting barriers to my compliance.

"Now, we're going to move you up on this, so I can really make you
feel good, okay dude?"  I smiled back, as he tugged me - and the towel
I was spread on - back on the lounger until my shoulders were hunched
and my legs flailed in the air.  Alex stood between my legs, looking
down at me.  I felt utterly exposed: from his vantage point he could
see not only my hard dick and tight balls, but my precum-lubed asshole
as well.  As I shifted my legs, trying to find a way to comfortably
keep them elevated, I knew I was also flaunting myself to him.

He reached out to grip my cock again, my nuts nuzzling up against his
wrist.  I could see the thick tube of his own erection, straining
against the dark blue swimsuit and impressively, embarrassingly long
as it snaked across to his hip.  I knew then that I wanted to see it,
to take it out from behind the lycra and hold it in both hands.  I
didn't quite know where I would go from there - just play with it,
like a child with a new toy, or pull it close until it was inside my
mouth? - but my palms were itching for the feel of it.

Instead, Alex pulled my dick out away from my body with one hand,
stretching the joining skin taut where it met my groin, and swiped his
other fingers across the head, gathering up the pearls of natural lube
there.  "I'm going to fuck your ass with my fingers now," he said,
voice at normal volume; there could be nobody around the pool who
hadn't heard his intent.  "And while I do it, I'm going to jerk you
off until you cum all across your face."

I tilted my head, checking my audience.  Simon was still perched,
unmoving, on the edge of his chair, while Tony had moved to lean in
the doorway, arms crossed and watching Alex and I with an appraising
look.  Cat's had flipped over onto his back, and Brad was now crouched
above him, his mouth hungrily devouring the Asian teenager's dick as
he braced himself with one arm and thrust the other hand into his
suit, obviously beating off.  I looked back to Alex, who gave me a
million-dollar grin and began massaging my clenching ass ring with
fingers covered with my own precum.

Slowly, just as before, his fingertips pushed into me, his fist all
the time rubbing up and down my tingling shaft.  Soon he had a full
finger into me, causing me to buck and twist against the invading
digit.  "Dude, so fucking tight" he muttered, almost to himself.  Then
it was a second finger, circling my hole initially before pushing
through the resistance and burying deep inside me.  Two-fingers full
and I could feel the excitement mounting, the alien sensation causing
my balls to churn.  A long, sticky thread of prespunk spooled out from
the head of my dick, wavering with each stroke of Alex's hand, until
it striped across my face, a narrow streak from chin to upper-cheek.

"Lick your lips" Alex commanded, and I did it, tasting the cloying
saltiness.  I was eye to eye with my cock, my ass radiating full
feelings of near-overwhelming pleasure, and I knew I couldn't last out
much longer.  "Remember, Coop, all over your face.  Don't you turn
away from it."

I groaned, whimpered almost, and he sped up his strokes, stretching
the skin of my dick until it was shiny and taut, putting real power
behind his fingers as he dug them deeper inside me.  I could feel the
tips nudging against my prostate - I'd done enough highschool biology
to know about that tight nut in a guy's ass - making me see stars with
each brush.  My jaw dropped, breaths heaving, stomach clenching, the
tendons in my legs jerking, until he grazed across the head of my cock
with his thumb and tipped me over the edge.

My ass clenched down, hard, on his fingers, the sensitive walls
twitching and shuddering, as a hard blast of cum jetted from my gaping
piss-slit and battered across my face.  I reflexively screwed up my
eyes, feeling a second shot and a third burst against my nose, cheeks
and chin.  It felt like my nuts were being sucked up my dick along
with them, almost painful in release.  Opening my eyes, I was just in
time to see another pulse of cream flop down onto me, followed by a
long string joining the tip of my glans to my face.  I realised some
of it had ended up in my mouth, rapidly being joined by saliva as the
foreign, salty juice surprised my tongue.  Too frightened to close my
mouth, lest I accidentally swallow, it instead lolled open, my whole
face flaunting its cream coating to Alex and the other guys around me.

"Suck it down."  Simon's voice broke me from my reverie; I'd pretty
much known he'd want me to drink down my dick spit, but it shocked me
all the same to hear it said out loud.  I glanced up at Alex, grinning
broadly again, his fingers pulling slowly from my ass; he nodded
gently, encouragingly.

I closed my mouth, forced myself to swallow, feeling the thick,
jelly-like syrup slide down my throat.  It was salty, and bleachy, and
I felt light headed at the knowledge of what I'd done.  Then Alex's
fingers were brushing at my face, smearing the lengths of cum up and
toward my mouth, and I instinctively opened up and let him dip them
inside.

"Lick it off my fingers, Coop" he instructed, and I did it, did it
without thinking first - played my tongue around each of his digits to
lap away the remnants of my own cream.  He nodded again to me,
approvingly.  "Good show, my man, a fucking good show."

***

Fifteen minutes later I had showered in the pool house, alone among
the rows of showerheads, Speedo back up around my waist and my cock
still tingling from Alex's persistence.  I felt detached, as if what
had happened had all been some online video, briefly clicked on and
then away.  I padded out, still dripping as I pulled my vest on, my
rucksack hanging from my hand.

"Good to see you, Cooper," Simon said to me, walking across the patio
toward the wet bar.  It was as though we'd simply hung out for an
afternoon, joked about the sports on TV, rather than him instructing
me as I drank down my own spunk in front of a crowd of strangers.
"Hope you stop by again soon."

And then he was gone, and Tony was handing me an envelope - open, with
twenty dollar bills stacked inside - and Alex was guiding me by the
shoulder back toward the corner of the glistening, shiny house, back
to the gate and the normal world outside.

"Oh, Cooper."  Simon called out, and Alex and I looked back.  "How did
you get here?"

"Um, I caught the bus" I replied.

"Alex, loan him some keys will you" and that was it, he busied himself
with a mini-fridge stacked high with bottles.

"Guess you made a good impression" Alex joked, as we walked past the
path to the side gate and round to the garage.  It was open, a row of
various cars lined up.  Normally I'd be paying attention to the sort
of exotica on show, but I was still feeling overwhelmed and the tingle
in my ass was reminding me that something out of the ordinary had gone
on.  Meanwhile, Alex's apparent reluctance to put on any clothes bar
his swimsuit left me glancing down at the less-erect but still well
packed bulge of his groin.

"Here, take these."  He handed me a set of car keys, plipping the
remote as I took them; a bright red MINI convertible flashed its
blinkers in response.  "It's a Cooper - seems kinda appropriate,
right?"

I could only meet his grin with a dazed look - they wanted me to borrow a car?

"Look, drive safe and I'll see you in the gym, okay?"  Alex patted me
on the shoulder again, ruffled my hair.  "Don't stress out, Coop, it's
all good.  Thanks for a great afternoon."  He made a show of tugging
down on his crotch, just lightly stretching things out there, but the
message was still clear enough.

As I sat on the road outside, air conditioning whistling round my ears
and the top down, only the steering wheel in my hands let me know that
it hadn't all been some strange wet dream.  I had a feeling I might
wake up with regrets the next morning, but I knew - and I was excited
- that I'd see Alex at the gym sometime very soon.  It suddenly struck
me that, no matter my reaction to what had happened, I would have to
come back, if only to drop off the car.  I was guessing that Simon
would probably let me keep the swimsuit.

===

Okay, so that's part one. I did say it was a slowish start, but I hope
there was enough filth later on to make reading it worthwhile. As I
said, would love to hear comments and feedback (or just photos of you
in your swimsuit - hey, you can't blame a guy for trying!) at
alexp336@gmail.com. Should I write a part two?