Date: Sun, 06 Jan 2002 03:21:17 -0500
From: NewYork Boy <nycanon@hotmail.com>
Subject: Swimming Lessons

All the usual warnings apply to this story--if you are too young or if it is
illegal to read this where you live, don't read this (or at least don't tell
anyone)!

This story is true, but I have changed some details, for reasons that will
become obvious.

This is my first story, so any comments, good or bad, are welcome at
nycanon@hotmail.com.

Enjoy!

When I was younger, my parents made me take swimming lessons at the local
YMCA once a week.  Starting when I was 8 years old, I would go every Monday
for my hour-and-a-half lesson.  Although I didn't like it, I tolerated it--I
guess I didn't really have a choice.  Lessons were boring, but I quickly
became a good swimmer, which gave my parents all the more reason to keep me
in them.  Although they were a staple of my weekly after-school schedule,
swimming lessons were always just another obligation, nothing life-changing
ever happened there.  Nothing, that is, until my third year of lessons, when
I was eleven.

Let me first describe myself as I was back then.  I was pretty much your
average eleven-year-old boy.  I was of exactly average height, but thin--not
scrawny--thin.  Swimming, along with my other various after-school
activities, kept me in shape good shape.  I had (and still have) wavy brown
hair and hazel eyes.  I wasn't pale, necessarily, just light skinned--I had
no waspy pallor, and I tanned very easily, but never burned.  Most
importantly, perhaps, I had no idea that I was gay.  At age eleven, my
hormones were just starting to kick in, and I fantasized about girls, like
all other guys (or so I thought).  I had never masturbated yet, however
(plenty of that would come later).

Back to the story.  I was eleven, and it was the winter of my sixth grade
year.  I arrived at swimming lessons that fateful Monday, and sat in the
reception area outside the locker rooms, watching cartoons, waiting until
4:30 to change for my 5:00 class.  When the time came to change, I went to
the men's locker room, stripped naked (I completely lacked modesty at that
point), and put on a pair of slightly-too-small swimming trunks--I completely
refused to wear Speedos.  It was only 4:45, and feeling a familiar urge, I
headed to the bathroom to relieve my bladder.

When I got there, I sidled up to a urinal, pulled my trunks halfway down my
legs, and let fly.  A few seconds later a man strolled through the doorway
(there was no door between the locker room and the bathroom, just a doorway)
and took a position at the urinal directly to my right (the only other one,
in fact).  I looked up at him.  He was probably only 5'10" or so, but to me
he seemed gigantic.  He looked to be in his early forties, and had a full
head of very gray hair.  He wore thin, wire-rimmed glasses, a pair of
swimming trunks, and shower shoes--nothing more.  He was thin and in
shape--not well built, but a good deal better than many men of his age.  His
chest was covered with a layer of thick gray hair, and his arms and legs
were also quite hairy.

As he and I both peed, I suddenly got the urge to see what his cock looked
like.  I felt very strange, standing and peeing next to another almost-naked
man, and wanting desperately to see his manhood.  I resolved not to turn my
head, but it wasn't easy (their were no partitions between the urinals).

I was just shaking the last drops off, strangely proud for not having
invaded his privacy, when all of a sudden, he began softly moaning.  I
thought this was odd, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see his arm
moving slowly back and forth.  I couldn't stand it, my curiosity was getting
the better of me--I had to look.  Very indiscreetly, I leaned over, turned my
head and saw for the first time a full grown cock.

I was amazed.  It was HUGE (or at least my naive eleven-year-old eyes
thought so).  Thick and veiny, it was in its semi-hard state, crowned by a
big purple head, and surrounded by a great crop of bushy brown pubic hair.
I was mesmerized as he slowly stroked and shook it, not realizing how rude
and obvious my stares were, nor how long I had been looking.

The man cleared his throat, and I jumped, caught.  My head snapped back into
place, looking at the tiled wall in front of me, but the rest of my body
seemed frozen.  I silently prayed that he wouldn't get mad, or hurt me.
What he did surprised me even more.

Giving his dick one more stroke, he turned and fixed his gaze directly at my
little boy cock, two inches long and soft with fear.  For what seemed like
an eternity (but was only a few seconds), he stared at my cock, neither of
us moving.  Then, he looked upward, right into my eyes.

I quickly stuffed my little prick back into my swim trunks and darted out of
the men's room, making a beeline past the showers down the hallway to the
pool.

As I swam my laps that afternoon, I noticed the man sitting in one of the
hot tubs that was right next to and above the lap pool.  He stared at me,
and I did my best not to look back, both scared and excited my the mature
man only yards away from me, and more specifically, by the tool between his
legs.  I would sneak peeks in his direction, but I always looked away
whenever he caught my eye.  I must have given him quite a show, my round
little bubble butt bobbing as I swam, my soaking swim trunks attaching
themselves to my skin when I got out of the pool, leaving nothing to the
imagination.

As I towled myself off in the locker room afterwards, getting ready to
change once again, he reappeared.  Standing in the same row of lockers, a
few yards away, the man was drying off as well, but staring intently at my
wet crotch, barely concealed by my trunks.
I was torn.  I longed to catch another glimpse of his man cock as he
changed, yet my conscience told me it was wrong, and the way he was staring
made me uncomfortable.
I moved to a different row, out of his sight, and peeled off my trunks,
water dripping off of my still-wet balls, and running down my legs.  I
reached down to dry my legs again, and I saw him.  Standing behind me, only
a few feet away, and totally naked--one hand holding his towel, the other
hand around his growing member.

I don't think I've ever gotten dressed so fast in my life.  I was feeling
scared, aroused, and guilty, and I shot out of that locker room like a boy
possessed.  I headed home, feeling queasy and confused.

The week went by incredibly slowly.  All I could think about was the man's
cock--in the shower, at school, eating dinner, doing homework, in my sleep.
I tried to fantasize about the hot girls in my glass, but it was no use.  As
soon as I closed my eyes, that thick, meaty man cock would pop into my head,
and eventually, I just gave up the struggle.  As next weeks swimming lesson
grew nearer, the guilt and discomfort I had originally experienced was
replaced with desire and lust.  The only thing I wanted, the only thing I
could think about, was feeling that man meat--fondling it, wrapping my hands
around it kissing it, even licking it.  I didn't know why, but I was
obsessed with it.  I wanted it.  And I resolved to get it.

I was overcome by a mixture of desire and fear as I got changed at 4:30 on
Monday afternoon.  I had secretly looked around, trying to spot him, but I
couldn't see him.  I changed, hoping my naked body would send him running,
but still he didn't come.  I was crushed.  I played a million seduction
fantasies over in my mind, and now that the time had come, he hadn't
bothered to show up?!  Disappointed, I headed to the bathroom to pee before
class.

As I peed, trying to get over my upset, a familiar form appeared next to me.
As I heard the sound of soft peeing mixed with gentle moaning, my spirits
soared.

I turned and looked at him.  He was there, dick in hand, eyes ravishing my
body, and resting for a while on my little boy cock, which proudly stood at
attention at three inches.  He looked into my eyes, and winked suggestively.
What I did then must have really surprised him.

I fixed my gaze on his cock, semi-hard and throbbing in his hand as he faced
me.  Fighting back fear, I looked into his blue eyes, then down at his cock,
and I licked my lips.

His face went blank with surprise, but his cock told the whole story,
quickly growing to a full seven inches in his hand.

"Follow me," I said (or rather, squeaked, overcome by desire and
apprehension).  Stuffing my stiff boy cock into my swim trunks, I half
walked, half ran out of the bathroom and to the showers, peeking back once
to see him adjusting his not-so-subtle hard on in his trunks as he trailed
behind.

Finally, I got to the shower area.  In this locker room, there were two
kinds of showers.  The first, more public kind were simply showerheads
arranged around a column, where the immodest stood and washed themselves.
The second, more private showers were built into a nearby wall.  With thick
dividing walls, glass doors, and curtains, these showers provided the utmost
in privacy for the shy bathers.

There was only one other man in the showers when I (or we, I should say)
arrived.  It was a fat old man, standing under a public shower and facing
away from us as he busily soaped his ass crack.  As soon as my man arrived
behind me, I slipped into one of the private showers, motioning with my head
for him to join me, lest the fat old guy hear and become suspicious.  I
closed the door and the curtain so that no one could see in, and waited.

The suspense nearly killed my as I stood there, all of the past week's
fantasies playing out in my mind.  After about a minute, the shower door
opened just enough for the man of my thoughts and dreams to slip in.

I stood to face him, but froze.  By boy cock strained against the fabric of
my trunks, and the prominent bulge in the man's trunks revealed a similar
state of arousal.  Yet, I couldn't move.  Now that my fantasies were
becoming realities, I was too scared to act on them.  Luckily, he made the
first move.

Getting down on his knees before me, he put his warm hands on my shoulders,
leaned forward and gently kissed me on the lips.  In his hands, I melted.
He stopped kissing me, and I smiled at him before leaning forward and
kissing him on the lips, passionately.

Softly, his tongue slipped between my lips, past my teeth, and into my hot
little mouth.  Eagerly it probed and darted, and I discovered a sensation
that I love to this day.  Licking and sucking on his tongue with my own, we
passionately, hungrily French kissed for another few minutes, until he
pulled me closer and I felt his hard on press against my thigh, hot and
throbbing through the our the thin fabric the separated us.  I stopped
kissing him, and he stood up.

I couldn't wait any longer.  It was like Christmas morning for me and I had
to unwrap my present.  Frantically, I untied the drawstring of his trunks,
and when he saw what I wanted, he helped me, pulling them down to his
ankles.

There it was, staring me in the face.  Sitting on top of his full, hairy
balls, his meaty throbbing man cock jutted out at me, a drop of precum
oozing from the slit on the large, purple head.

I must have stared for a while, because soon he whispered to me, "touch it."
I didn't neet to be told twice.  Wrapping both my hands around his pole, I
was struck my how hot and how hard it has to my touch.

"Stroke it," he whispered.  "Like this."  Putting his big hands around mine,
he began to slowly jerk off.  Soon, I was doing it by myself, and I loved
it.  I loved the feel of it, the smell of it, I loved everything about this
man's cock.  And judging by his reaction, he loved how I handled it.  With
his eyes closed and his head back, he moaned softly as I continued to slowly
beat his throbbing meat.

"Kiss it," he whispered to me.  "Lick it, take it in your mouth--down your
throat.  Oh, yeah, that's it, ohhh, ohhhhh. . . ."  He obviously liked it as
I eagerly complied with his demands, licking up and down the bottom of his
shaft, and putting the head in my mouth, twirling my little tongue around
it.  The sensation was unbelievable--I had a cock, a grown man's cock, in my
own mouth, and I loved it more than anything.  It was so wrong, but it felt
so good, I couldn't have cared less.  I was hooked.

Soon his cock began to grow even stiffer in my mouth, and his soft moans
turned to quick breaths.  I had no idea what he meant when he whispered
"Ohh, I'm coming, ohhh, yeah, ohhh, ohhhhhhh...," but I soon found out.

The first volley of his salty sweet man juice flooded my little mouth, and I
had no choice but to swallow it down.  He quickly pulled out of my mouth,
and shot after shot of his thick cream hit my face, coating my nose, running
down my soft cheeks, and resting on my lips.

He pulled up his trunks, while I stood there, stunned but euphoric.  It took
me a second to remember that what was all over my face and coating my throat
was called semen (I had already started sex ed.).  After he tied his trunks,
the man bent down and kissed my passionately on the mouth, before quickly
pulling his tongue out.  I tried to kiss him back, but instead he started
licking his cum off my face, sending waves of pleasure through my body and
chills down my spine.

When my face was clean, he kissed me one more time, ruffled my hair
affectionately, and whispered in my ear "You're a natural cocksucker, kid.
I'll see you next week."  And with a wink, he stepped out of the shower and
left.

I never did make it to my lesson that day, but you can bet I was back the
next week!

If you want to read more (because believe me there was more), email me at
nycanon@hotmail.com.  Hope to hear from you :)