[SwimTeamSpeedo]

Allen knew exactly the suit he wanted to wear to the club picnic. He stood in the outdoor shower washing the salty sweat from his body, letting the cool water rinse over him. As he imagined the new swimsuit, he grew hard, really hard inside the swimsuit he had worn at practice and rode home in. He rubbed along and over his bulge, enjoying the sensation of making himself more excited. He was amazed that even after all the athletic endeavors so far he actually had any energy left. It didn't tale long before he brought himself all the way, a small but intense thrust of release as he shot across the small stall of the outdoor shower. He let the water calm him as he slipped himself back into the swimsuit.

"Hey Jake, want to ride over to the lake together?" Allen texted as he got ready for the afternoon of fun. He ripped open the package holding his brand new Funky Trunks Stroke Rate brief, a crazy colorful two inch side cut that he had just received, along with two other new suits.

"Cool, I will be over shortly," came Jake's reply. "Ricky is coming with us." He added. Jake and Ricky were still wearing the suits they had on at practice, which would stay on them for the festivities at Coach's house. Jake's Sporti Flags brief was still tight and small, but Jake felt great in it, and it showed him well. Ricky was in a colorful print water polo style suit from Q swim, with narrow sides and a low cut that barely covered him. It was one of his new favorites.

Stormy hiked back down Haystack. He was still all alone. His face brightened when the selfie from AJ came through. AJ was 5'10", muscular, dark spiked hair and deep eyes. He was rocking a red and blue Speedo print jammer, showing an impressive bulge of masculinity. The image stirred the arousal Stormy had suppressed with his emotional breakdown. Stormy shot back his own selfie. Back to his Miata, Stormy raced off.

Ashland, an older golden retriever, was in his glory. Coach Ryan's dog loved when the swim team came over. He got lots of attention, ate hand outs galore, and played ball nonstop. Ashland was also a hit with the ladies on the team, and naturally attracted the guys interested in chatting with the ladies. About half the guys wore swim briefs, while the rest were in boardies or shorts, some over briefs and some commando, it was not hard to figure out who was what way. The girls were like minded, about half in the full piece swimsuits, while others, including Lizzie wore more revealing suits. In Lizzie's case a white string bikini that would test the tightness of Jake's suit. Coach Ryan wore a CaRioCa Ventania low cut brief, his usual very colorful look. The suit fit him well and gave a nice masculine display.

The entire team, a few past alumni, and some family and friends were at the annual picnic, except for Stormy and on other member. The lake was warm for northern Maine, about 68 degrees. A light breeze created some gentle ripples on the water. The lake presented its own enticement. The testosterone in the guys took over as they looked at the swim out to the island and back.

"So how fat out is the island?" Devon asked, a handsome blonde haired guy in board shorts. A really good swimmer, albeit not fast. Devon tried hard and loved being on the team.

"Half mile," guessed Ricky. He rubbed his bulge as he said it. The masculine challenge battling his fear of open water.

"Coach says a mile or so," Allen chimed in. "Plus a half mile around the back side of the island."

"That is a long swim," said Lizzie, her hand rubbed Jake's nice, tight butt. Jake was semi hard, as his bulge showed. He grew harder.

By the end of the banter, six guys and two girls were in. The plan was in place to swim to a sandy beach on the far side of the island, regroup and swim back. Time was on the honor system. "Winner gets a date with anyone on the team," one of the Speedo wearing guys called out, creating quite a laugh.

Ricky bowed out, under the guise of being the one willing to sacrifice and follow in a kayak. "Just in case," Ricky said, hiding his fear of open water. Keith, a cute guy in board shorts, offered to follow in a second Kayak. Coach was going to stay further back in the 26 foot pontoon boat, just in case they all needed help. The swimmers launched from the dock, diving into the cool water of the lake, already ten feet deep. The depth would reach 125 feet, their kicks churning up colder water as they swam. The bottom would disappear once the depth passed 25 or so feet. They were on their own.

----

AJ had moved on. He loved Stormy, but knew that it was over the day that big moving van pulled away. He would never forget Stormy, but as the pragmatic one, AJ also knew life was always moving forward. He had already met Donnie, a cute runner who could rock AJ as much or better than he rocked his silky running shorts. What Donnie's runner frame lacked in bulk, he made up for in the packaging between his legs. Donnie was an uncut jewel, a sexual machine, with a kind heart. He was Stormy's replacement. It was time AJ put Stormy in the right perspective, gently but firmly. Young love was that way. Hours ago, swim suit erotic pictures turned to life lessons. At 18, things moved fast.

"You need to give your new team a chance," AJ said in reply to Stormy's ranting text of how much his new team and new life sucked. "They sound like they are trying."

"What are you saying?" Stormy asked.

"You gotta stop being a hard ass, make friends, move on."

Stormy stared at the text. It was not what he was expecting. Was AJ saying it was over? Stormy sat in the drivers seat of the flashy red sports car in a parking lot overlooking Eagle Lake, a long expansive lake just south of Fort Kent.

"I am moving on," came the next note from AJ. A jolt that rocked Stormy to the core. Stormy did not reply. He started the car and sped out of the lot, leaving a cloud of gravel dust. He held his jammer covered crotch with his right hand as he raced south on Route 11, tears streaming down his face, anger raged in his body. He was gay, alone and lost in a world he so badly wanted to reject.