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raymcc 12-28-2016 03:40 PM

The older lifeguard....
 
There were two sets of lifeguards at our summer job at the public pool. The local high school guys (and girls) - of which I was one...and the 4 or 5 college swimmers on scholarship at a big state university who needed a summer job while staying in training.

Being a lifeguard had lots of social status. You got to be outside in the sun and water all day. Got to just wear a speedo all day (or a speedo under the loose navy blue boxer style nylon trunks with a 'guard' stripe down the side). Younger kids always looked up to you...and there was the inevitable sexual tension of being essentially naked all day. As an 18 yr old (competitive swimmer), I was pretty comfortable in my body - and certainly in a speedo. These were the 'nylon speedo days'. You'd buy it and have to 'break it in'. Nylon suits are 'elastic' like today's lycra. On the plus side, they were paper thin, and unlike Lycra, you could see the outlines. We learned pretty quickly that solid colors (particularly light colors) were more 'telling' than any suit with a pattern. On the 'modest days', I'd wear stripes - or maybe a pattern.

I always found nylon speedos to be erotic. Enough to be covered - but barely - and once you 'broke them in' (wear them enough so they conform to your body), they just slide on and feel like a 'barely there' second skin.

We reported for the beginning of summer season. 12 local high school kids...and joined by 5 guys from the University of Wisconsin varsity swimming team. They arrived in tattered jeans, t shirts, and two had the chlorine bleached hair from hours in the pool.

Two stood out. Brent. 6'3" shaggy blonde hair. Broad shoulders and perfect chest, narrowing down to a 30" waist. He rode a Honda motorcycle, and walked with the lanky loping ease of someone who was super confident. Crystal blue eyes which were usually behind Ray Bans - and his occasional geeky rectangular dark rimmed glasses.

Colin was about the same height, loosly curled black hair, and perfectly green eyes, with more than a few freckles. Colin was quiet - shy actually. and rumor had it he had a 'hometown honey'.

At first, the high school guards didn't interact with the college guys (intimidated mostly), but over time, we'd interact a bit. Guards had a small alcove in the general locker room - no more than 4' x 4' where we could change. Each of us had a locker where we kept our speedos at night, and no one ever bothered to lock their lockers.

Brent had two suits. A very well worn solid maroon, that had faded to a light purple - and fabric that had clearly thinned over time with use. This was his suit of choice. Often worn under his jeans. Occasionally though, he'd wear a black nylon suit. Obviously a size smaller. With a an incredibly small tight ass, coverage wasn't a problem in back, but he had a package that matched his size 12 feet and long fingers. Where as most of us 'tucked' our dicks downward in our speedos, this wasn't an option for Brent in that suit. So up and sideways (and long) it was. He seemed oblivious to what that suit - both suits actually - did to people. Girls couldn't stop checking him out. And guys looked at him with either admiration or wonder. I could only imagine - and fantasized about - the great sex he must be having.

Over time, we got to know each other. Brent was a great swimmer, and during lunch and dinner breaks, (and after his practice), he'd let me jump in the pool and work out with him...and he'd help with my technique. This is when it started. He'd stand close beside me in the waist deep water and take my arms to perfect my stroke. I can remember the electric feeling when his chest, abs or legs would rub against mine. Knowing he was straight (and I had my own girlfriend and with great sex), couldn't quite figure how to understand all that was happening. What I did know was that Brent would thoughtfully offer to coach me a few times a week.

I was intrigued by his motorcycle (and him on the motorcycle). Long legs thrown over that huge seat. Jeans so old that you could see his speedo between the tears, and a t shirt that was almost useless. One day I gut up the courage and asked for a ride. That night after the pool closed, we jumped on his Honda at 9:30. Actually, he jumped on first, and I stupidly stood there until he encouraged me to hop on behind him. 'Ok, so what do I hold on to?'
"Give me your arms" He took both, put them around his torso and said 'lock your fingers to keep yourself steady an sit farther forward in the seat.' I was now against his body. My chest firmly against his back. My hips tightly behind his butt, and my legs squeezed tightly against is thighs and legs.

solarguy 12-28-2016 09:34 PM

Great start!!! Keep it going!! Thanks!

ReservedEnthusiast 12-29-2016 01:14 PM

Well done! I look forward to reading more:)

dm106 12-29-2016 01:25 PM

Great job - can't wait to read more. My uncle was on the swim team in those days and wore a nylon suit.

raymcc 12-30-2016 12:47 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by raymcc
There were two sets of lifeguards at our summer job at the public pool. The local high school guys (and girls) - of which I was one...and the 4 or 5 college swimmers on scholarship at a big state university who needed a summer job while staying in training.

Being a lifeguard had lots of social status. You got to be outside in the sun and water all day. Got to just wear a speedo all day (or a speedo under the loose navy blue boxer style nylon trunks with a 'guard' stripe down the side). Younger kids always looked up to you...and there was the inevitable sexual tension of being essentially naked all day. As an 18 yr old (competitive swimmer), I was pretty comfortable in my body - and certainly in a speedo. These were the 'nylon speedo days'. You'd buy it and have to 'break it in'. Nylon suits are 'elastic' like today's lycra. On the plus side, they were paper thin, and unlike Lycra, you could see the outlines. We learned pretty quickly that solid colors (particularly light colors) were more 'telling' than any suit with a pattern. On the 'modest days', I'd wear stripes - or maybe a pattern.

I always found nylon speedos to be erotic. Enough to be covered - but barely - and once you 'broke them in' (wear them enough so they conform to your body), they just slide on and feel like a 'barely there' second skin.

We reported for the beginning of summer season. 12 local high school kids...and joined by 5 guys from the University of Wisconsin varsity swimming team. They arrived in tattered jeans, t shirts, and two had the chlorine bleached hair from hours in the pool.

Two stood out. Brent. 6'3" shaggy blonde hair. Broad shoulders and perfect chest, narrowing down to a 30" waist. He rode a Honda motorcycle, and walked with the lanky loping ease of someone who was super confident. Crystal blue eyes which were usually behind Ray Bans - and his occasional geeky rectangular dark rimmed glasses.

Colin was about the same height, loosly curled black hair, and perfectly green eyes, with more than a few freckles. Colin was quiet - shy actually. and rumor had it he had a 'hometown honey'.

At first, the high school guards didn't interact with the college guys (intimidated mostly), but over time, we'd interact a bit. Guards had a small alcove in the general locker room - no more than 4' x 4' where we could change. Each of us had a locker where we kept our speedos at night, and no one ever bothered to lock their lockers.

Brent had two suits. A very well worn solid maroon, that had faded to a light purple - and fabric that had clearly thinned over time with use. This was his suit of choice. Often worn under his jeans. Occasionally though, he'd wear a black nylon suit. Obviously a size smaller. With a an incredibly small tight ass, coverage wasn't a problem in back, but he had a package that matched his size 12 feet and long fingers. Where as most of us 'tucked' our dicks downward in our speedos, this wasn't an option for Brent in that suit. So up and sideways (and long) it was. He seemed oblivious to what that suit - both suits actually - did to people. Girls couldn't stop checking him out. And guys looked at him with either admiration or wonder. I could only imagine - and fantasized about - the great sex he must be having.

Over time, we got to know each other. Brent was a great swimmer, and during lunch and dinner breaks, (and after his practice), he'd let me jump in the pool and work out with him...and he'd help with my technique. This is when it started. He'd stand close beside me in the waist deep water and take my arms to perfect my stroke. I can remember the electric feeling when his chest, abs or legs would rub against mine. Knowing he was straight (and I had my own girlfriend and with great sex), couldn't quite figure how to understand all that was happening. What I did know was that Brent would thoughtfully offer to coach me a few times a week.

I was intrigued by his motorcycle (and him on the motorcycle). Long legs thrown over that huge seat. Jeans so old that you could see his speedo between the tears, and a t shirt that was almost useless. One day I gut up the courage and asked for a ride. That night after the pool closed, we jumped on his Honda at 9:30. Actually, he jumped on first, and I stupidly stood there until he encouraged me to hop on behind him. 'Ok, so what do I hold on to?'
"Give me your arms" He took both, put them around his torso and said 'lock your fingers to keep yourself steady an sit farther forward in the seat.' I was now against his body. My chest firmly against his back. My hips tightly behind his butt, and my legs squeezed tightly against is thighs and legs.


******

The stopping, starting, turning, accelerating had me holding him tightly...occasionally he would speed up quickly just to get my reaction - some combination of fear, clutching him closer, and excitement with the wind blowing past my face. It was all very - well, erotic - I had never been this physically close to another guy, let alone a complete stud. Under no other circumstance would I have had my crotch pressed against his back side, an my face and nose pressed against his back and neck, his hair whipping the sides of my face as we sped down the road.

Before I could completely realize it, I had a full on erection, and was suddenly very thankful for my blue and white speedo holding me tight under the loose baggy sweatpants. I found myself terrified he might notice it (feel it from behind, pressing against his Levi's clad tight butt). He shouted back...'enjoying yourself?' - - and I my greatest hope was he had no idea how much. "you need to relax". I wasn't sure what he meant, and then he said - 'here, just put your hands around my belt buckle and grab onto that, it takes less effort'. This was all more than I could handle, knowing both hands were inches above his package.

We headed back to the pool, I hopped off the motorcycle. "now it's time to go for a swim...the pool is closed, I have the keys, and we can do some laps". He whipped off his t shirt, undid his belt buckle, unzipped his jeans and let them tumble to his ankles. He was indeed a physical god. I had to stall a bit to let my hard-on subside, but he kept taunting me to jump in. I dropped my sweats, and without realizing it was sporting a small wet spot on the front of my suit. We jumped in the pool, did a few laps, and he then suggested a few minutes to be spent on kicking technique. I was to lay flat, face down, and he put a hand on each side of my hips. It felt electric. Then he took his right hand, and lay it flat on my lower abdomen, and supported me with that hand, and used the other hand to manipulate my legs to what he considered the perfect flutter kick. I was trying desperately to pay attention, but was too acutely aware of one side of my hips against his, his hand within an inches of my cock, and his long fingers manipulating my feet, calves and thighs.

I could feel more stirring in my speedo and before things got out of hand, said 'I think that's enough for today'. He smiled - smirked actually and said 'you sure that's enough for one day? I was certain he meant nothing sexual by that, but was more confused than not, and didn't want to do anything that would alienate me from this guy I idolized. He planned to swim a few more laps, and I told him it was time to head home, so took off my speedo, hung it over the shower head, showered, and changed back into street clothes and headed home for the night. Tomorrow another day.

*******

Well, it wasn't that simple. I went home, watched some TV and headed to bed. I frequently wore a speedo to sleep in, loving how the nylon felt against the sheets. But where was my blue and white striped suit? Evidently I had left it hanging in the pool locker room shower...hopefully no one ripped it off and it would still be there tomorrow - everyone knew it was mine. Instead, I grabbed an old (now too small) suit. Navy blue with white side panels. It was certainly now too snug to wear outside, but felt particularly great. I lay in bed thinking about the day, and found myself incredibly horny thinking about the motorcycle ride. Laying on my stomach, I was now hard as a rock, with the top several inches of my engorged member sticking out the top of the suit. The more I thought about being on that motorcycle against him, the more my lower abdomen ached. It wasn't long before I was beyond the point of stopping and had to quickly roll on my back, so the warm pulsing stream of cum landed on me instead of making a huge mess in the bed.

raymcc 01-01-2017 01:19 AM

I woke up the next morning, still in my old speedo, but with a fresh erection. My first thought was recollecting a very vivid dream of Brent giving me freestyle stroke technique, but noticing he was brushing against my hips and very clearly - visibly -was enjoying the closeness. I had never seen him naked, but with his old speedo, it wasn't hard to imagine what was under it. His dick was long, with a really pronounced head. Sometimes he had it tucked down, but just as often, it was up and leaning 'left', which gave a perfect view of what appeared to be a set of more than ample sized balls. When He'd sit in the lifeguard chair there were times when the nylon actually had a hard time containing everything - and there was frequently a gap between his suit and his body.

It was time to head off to the pool. I took my old suit just in case my blue and white striped one wasn't still there. Alas, it wasn't, and I was bummed. Not only did I like the suit, but had no interest in shelling out another $15 for a new one.

I headed to the lockers, and was startled to see Brent in there suiting up. It was like an electric jolt seeing him naked. His dick was longer (and thicker) than I had imagined...and his ass, impossibly small and tight. I tried not to look - or at least make it obvious I was looking.

I dropped my jeans to reveal my blue nylon suit with the white side panels, and Brent said 'whoa, what have we here...new suit?' "Well, I evidently left my other suit here last night, and it's not in the showers where I left it and not in my locker, so this is 'plan B'. "Nice" he said and nodded with a smirk. (why the smirk?)

The day went as it normally did, but around 3 he asked if I wanted to say over the dinner break and work on technique. My 'yes' had nothing to do with technique, but everything to do with being with this guy I idolized - - and had come to terms with my attraction to him. Most important however was for him never to sense it and ruin everything.

At 5:15, I heard the snap and felt the sting of a wet towel against my ass. Typical swimmers locker room antic. "c'mon bunky, time to hit the pool'
I jumped in fast and felt the sting of the chlorined water against the now forming welt on my butt. "paybacks are hell" I had the audacity to warn him.
"O really, I can't wait to imagine that" he replied. We hit the pool and I had this odd sense of deja vu. There he was behind me. Leaning over my back with his broad shoulders, moving my arms guided by his. Was it my imagination, or was his crotch firmly pressed against my crack. I'll admit to deliberately being slow to get the technique so he didn't move too soon. I was sure it wasn't my imagination. Either that was his hip bone or his dick that was firmly pressed against me. In waist deep water, it wasn't going to be difficult to find out. I quickly turned around, looked down, and sure enough, his dick was fully erect, held only in that suit by a tightly tied drawstring.

dm106 01-01-2017 04:49 AM

Totally awesome, Ray!

raymcc 01-02-2017 03:25 AM

The top several inches of his boner were above the water line, and being just inches away, it was impossible to ignore. I glanced at it (a bit overwhelmed by its size) and quickly looked away. "Surprised?" he asked. "By what" "you know what". Me: "Well I get a hard on 20 times a day and pretty much anything can trigger it, so I guess it's all normal." His response with a bit of a smirk: "well, if you say so." So now I'm hugely confused. Let's be clear. He is a major stud. Girls fall over him, and if the rumors are true, several of the young girls have had their first full on experience with him. He is certainly not gay. Of course, the close activity has had me a bit in the same boat. Fortunately my dick is pointed down, so he cannot see a thing. "OK, then, time to hop out and finish our lifeguarding for the day"...which we did until 9:15 when the pool closed. We were in the locker room getting ready to leave when he put his hand on my shoulder and said 'maybe it's time for you to learn how to drive the motorcycle.' My head started spinning. Excitement - have never done it before. The idea of him seated and pressed up against my back seemed thrilling. So I threw on my sweatpants over my speedo as did he, we put on our sneakers and a t-shirt and headed to his cycle. I hopped on, he followed suit, and scooted up directly behind me. Seems either he became excited again - or it never went away. He leaned forward, draping his arms over mine to show me how to control the throttle, breaks, and how to shift.

We headed out of the parking lot, his arms wrapped around my abdomen, fingers interlaced to lock his arms around me, with his hands just below my navel. It was thrilling, but I was going cautiously slowly. Each time he encouraged more speed, his hands and thighs gripped me tighter. I could feel stirring in my speedo. After a few miles, he suggested we head down a dirt side road. I was starting to get more comfortable, as was he, his left hand dropping lower in my lap. I could feel his left hand cup my hard on. "Seems you're enjoying yourself" he offered. "uhh, yeah, must be all this motion". But rather than remove his hand, he clenched my dick, and with his other hand, reached down and gently squeezed my nuts. OK, this is no longer my imagination. This is deliberate.

raymcc 01-02-2017 08:50 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by raymcc
The top several inches of his boner were above the water line, and being just inches away, it was impossible to ignore. I glanced at it (a bit overwhelmed by its size) and quickly looked away. "Surprised?" he asked. "By what" "you know what". Me: "Well I get a hard on 20 times a day and pretty much anything can trigger it, so I guess it's all normal." His response with a bit of a smirk: "well, if you say so." So now I'm hugely confused. Let's be clear. He is a major stud. Girls fall over him, and if the rumors are true, several of the young girls have had their first full on experience with him. He is certainly not gay. Of course, the close activity has had me a bit in the same boat. Fortunately my dick is pointed down, so he cannot see a thing. "OK, then, time to hop out and finish our lifeguarding for the day"...which we did until 9:15 when the pool closed. We were in the locker room getting ready to leave when he put his hand on my shoulder and said 'maybe it's time for you to learn how to drive the motorcycle.' My head started spinning. Excitement - have never done it before. The idea of him seated and pressed up against my back seemed thrilling. So I threw on my sweatpants over my speedo as did he, we put on our sneakers and a t-shirt and headed to his cycle. I hopped on, he followed suit, and scooted up directly behind me. Seems either he became excited again - or it never went away. He leaned forward, draping his arms over mine to show me how to control the throttle, breaks, and how to shift.

We headed out of the parking lot, his arms wrapped around my abdomen, fingers interlaced to lock his arms around me, with his hands just below my navel. It was thrilling, but I was going cautiously slowly. Each time he encouraged more speed, his hands and thighs gripped me tighter. I could feel stirring in my speedo. After a few miles, he suggested we head down a dirt side road. I was starting to get more comfortable, as was he, his left hand dropping lower in my lap. I could feel his left hand cup my hard on. "Seems you're enjoying yourself" he offered. "uhh, yeah, must be all this motion". But rather than remove his hand, he clenched my dick, and with his other hand, reached down and gently squeezed my nuts. OK, this is no longer my imagination. This is deliberate.

His left hand dropped down and gently cupped my nuts. He gently rolled his fingers around each one which instantly made my sack throb. He took his finger nail and gently rubbed the edge against the nylon. If he doesn't stop this, I'm going to cum quickly. With his right hand, it was a solid squeeze of my member. "you're having a hard staying inside this little suit my friend...it's entirely up to you, you're an adult...if you want, I'll undo the drawstring.' With that, he dropped his thumb inside my suit, flipped out the drawstring, and pulled on the end. My dick was still compressed in the suit, but now the top few inches were poking out, and he lost no time rubbing it with his thumb. "Oh" i warned, a large blob of precum surfacing. "thanks for the lube" he offered, and proceeded to use it to entirely lube my dick. My head was spinning. Wait. I know he's not gay, what's happening? "We can stop at anytime." "Uhh, no, don't stop, but I'm having a hard figuring out what's happening given that you get more chicks than an army of guys." "let's just go with it" he offered. with that, he pulled the nylon suit down to the base of my dick and started stroking me from top to bottom, still gently squeezing my balls. It wasn't long before I gave him the warning. He pushed my dick to the side, pulled the suit up , and continued stroking me until my suit was cum filled. "Did you enjoy?" he offered. "That was crazy." We pulled over to the side of the dark road and both dismounted the bike. I had to know...'did you enjoy that as much as I did?" "well, maybe not quite as much, but a lot" He dropped his sweat pants and to my shock, there was my swimsuit, barely covering him. "I have a thing for Speedos...hope you don't mind". But to make it up to you, here's my old one for you to wear. I took it and put it in my pocket. He looked amazing in my suit. No 18 yr old body in it, but a 21 yr old, whose dick and balls stretched the fabric to its maximum tolerance. There was something massively erotic about his body - his balls and dick inside my suit. "you can have your suit back, any time you want". "I'm willing to wait' I offered. We got back on the bike, me with the smell and moisture of cum in my suit. Him behind me with what felt like a not at all subsided hard on. As we rode back to the pool, I could feel him gently humping my ass through our sweatsuits and suits. Then it started to happen. I could feel his inhale and exhale speeding up against my back. His legs started to clench my thighs. The rhythm of his movements sped up, and without a warning, his open mouth bit into my shoulder as his body shuddered. I just kept driving not knowing what to do - or what would happen next. We got back to the swimming pool parking lot. "Well, I best be getting home." I offered. I looked at him, and there was a large wet ring in the front of his sweatpants. "Uhh, sorry about what I did to your suit' he offered. I laughed. "o trust me, that suit has been soaked in my cum many times." The end of a crazy day

a speedo minded guy 01-03-2017 09:14 PM

Loving this story!. Nice presentation. I hope you continue


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