Date: Mon, 5 May 2014 03:50:41 +0900
From: K Writing <writingaloud07@gmail.com>
Subject: Tutoring Three Jocks 3: Lee's Chapter

	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.

Please consider making a donation to nifty to keep this amazing site up and
running!

	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?



Again, please send all comments to writingaloud07@gmail.com.

Any hot Asian guys reading this...hats off to you.

And anyone who enjoyed this story, I'd love to hear from you!