Date: Mon, 17 Dec 2001 05:07:11 -0800 (PST)
From: einhardno <einhardno@yahoo.com>
Subject: Nate, pt. 2: "The pool"

The pool, (t/t, oral)

by einhard

PLEASE NOTE: This story is fiction from beginning to
end. The characters don't exist, and the things they
do, never happened.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is a sequel to "The yard".
You might want to read that first.


The day that I witnessed Joe fucking Billy, I pretty
much stayed hard constantly. My cock was raw from all
the jerking I did, and my balls ached really bad. I
shot my last load of the day at around 2 am that
night, and it was pitiful. Two small drops. At least I
could sleep afterwards.

Over the following days, I walked around in a sort of
trance. I read my books, but didn't remember anything.
I ate, watched TV, hung out with a couple of buddies,
but nothing much registered. Except my buddies'
bodies. It was a constant struggle not to jump them
and try to fuck their brains out.

I visited the yard, too, hoping to see more of Joe and
Billy, but I was out of luck. I didn't remember ever
seeing them before. They had looked like they might be
around 17 or 18, but they weren't in my school.

Jerking off, however, was a fresh experience. Before,
I had mostly had vague images of myself plugging
pussy. I had read straigt pornos and looked at
pictures, but not a lot. It was mainly when somebody
at school had managed to lay their hands on a magazine
and showed it to me, which was no frequent occurrence.

During the last week of vacation, the heat from
earlier in the summer returned, and most days I would
visit an outdoor pool which was only a twenty minute
bike ride away. There, I indulged my fantasies freely,
because my hard-on didn't show underwater. And I
always made sure I wore baggy shorts, so that I could
conceal it when I left the water.

The Thursday of that week was a particularly scorching
day, and I set off for the pool early. When I got
there, it was practically empty, except for a party of
screaming girls. And one guy. I thought I recognized
him; he looked a lot like the bass player in a band
that sometimes played at dance evenings in a youth
club downtown. I like dancing; it's something I can do
by myself, even if there are lots of people on the
floor. Also, it was my only way of meeting girls. I
wasn't considered cool or anything, except that I was
known as a good dancer. It was kinda hot, dancing with
the chicks, but it was the dancing itself that
appealed to me.

Anyway, there was this musician, and I spent most of
my time watching him. He was small, shorter than me,
completely hairless, except for his head. I guessed he
had hair in at least one more place, but I couldn't
see that. He looked nice.

Eventually, of course, he noticed me looking at him,
and instead of looking away, he fixed my eyes with
his. I wasn't sure if it was just my imagination, but
it seemed like there was heat travelling from him to
me, clear across the length of the pool.

We both swam a few lengths, but didn't approach each
other. Not until he left the water and headed for the
locker rooms. He sent me a smoldering look, and sort
of hesitated a little before he vanished through the
door.

My internal debate was brief, and I, too, headed for
the lockers. When I got there, he was nowhere in
sight. Not in the toilet, either. Maybe the sauna? I
didn't think it would be heated; it hadn't been in a
couple of years. No money for that. It was still open,
though, even if nobdody used it. I glanced
surreptitiously through the small window in the door.
Sure enough, there he was.

I dumped my trunks in the locker, hurrying to cover
myself with the towel I brought. I'm not excessively
shy or anything, but my boner was very plain to see.
Shaking, I walked towards the sauna, trying to hold
the towel away from me without being obvious. Who was
I fooling? The sauna was cold, what would I be doing
in there if I wasn't after sex with the guy?

He looked at me as I entered, but didn't say anything.
He had a towel lying across his lap, too. I sat down
opposite him, looking at the floor.

None of us made any sound for a while, apart from
breathing. Then I saw movement out of the corner of my
eye. He was lifting the towel off. Now what?

Yep, massive erection. And he did have hair around it;
a small, blonde bush. I heaved a sigh, and he smiled,
standing up. It was dominating the room now, sticking
proudly out, only five feet away. His dick, I mean.

Still saying nothing, he walked the two paces over to
me, sinking to his knees between my parted legs. I
closed my eyes, heaving another sigh. Looking at him
again, I saw him smiling widely. He tugged at my
towel, and it fell away. I was sitting on it now, my
own erection out in the open. He moved one hand
towards it, and gently took hold of it at the base. I
whimpered once.

The next moment, heat surrounded my cock. He was
sucking me! And it felt so good! The heat, the
friction, the excitement of where we were; giggling
girls just a few feet away. Not to mention there might
somebody in the lockerrom...

I wouldn't be able to hold out long. I could feel my
balls rising up towards my shaft, and I had that
almost thirsty feeling I get in my throat when I'm
really excited.

"Ah, dude, you need to....Oh! Aah..."

I felt something warm and slimy hit my feet, and
realized the guy was shooting his load. In a panic, I
shoved him away from me, and began shooting my own. It
landed on the bench opposite, on the floor, in his
hair, on his face, his chest, the entire room seemed
drenched in my cum.

Once I had recovered enough to open my eyes, I saw the
guy was standing up again, smiling at me.

"That was a good one, man. Thanks! I'm Patrick." He
stuck out his hand, and I took it.

"Nate", I told him.

"Nice to meet you, Nate. Maybe we could get together
again sometime?"

"Sure", I croaked out, still a little dazed.

"Bye!", whispered Patrick, giving me a small peck on
the cheek before he left.

I took another minute to breathe and wipe myself down,
then, peeking through the little window, I made sure
the locker room was empty, got dressed and took myself
home. This vacation was turning into an overload. What
next?


This story is copyrighted by me, einhard. (c) 2001.
All rights reserved.

Any comments? Did you like the story? Hate it? You can
mail me at: einhard@excite.com