[SwimmerAlan]

Morning practice was intense. We had a big meet coming. You could feel the intensity building in our workouts. It was three long hours in the pool.

“I think coach wants to kill us,” Brian gasped after our zillionth sprint. I just wanted to puke, not really but I was sucking in any air I could get. Brian was my best swim team mate. He was so damn good. If I was half as good it would be a lie. He was also a genuine good guy. Secretly I admired him, he rocked a swimsuit better than anyone. The bulge was gorgeous.

“I think I want to blow my cookies,” I replied just as Coach yelled “Go.”

Brian crushed the next sprint, just as we all did on a five second interval. By the time it was all over, each of us was spent. Whatever ego, bulge or strength we had was a shriveled up representation of the strength we were building.

“Good swim, guys,” Coach yelled. “Team meeting in five.”

We swam our warm down lap then climbed from the pool. The girls team had wrapped up just ahead. They all watched as our limply filled swimsuits matched our equally fatigued bodies, one by one emerge from the water.

“That just sucked,” Brian said.

“Yes it did,” I replied as we both pulled our strings free, letting them hang loose out front.

“Team meeting ,” Coach yelled, motioning us over to a forming huddle of lycra wearing guys. Thankfully, the sun felt warm, bringing life back into our bodies and filling out our suits.

————

I really wasn’t paying much attention to what Coach was saying. Something far more interesting had captured my attention. Brian was standing directly in front of me facing me in our circle. We were huddled in a circle around Coach. Fifteen of us, all the guys on the team. I was directly across from Brian. Coach was going over last minute details for the upcoming meet. To be honest, I really wasn’t paying much attention to what Coach was saying. Something far more interesting was capturing my attention. Brian was standing with his hands at his side, starting to fidget. He made a funny grin. That was when I noticed it, I was sure his bulge was getting bigger. He was tucked down, but it was obvious his manhood was pushing out the front of his suit.

“Brian is getting hard,” I thought to myself. I wondered what was turning him on. It was obvious he was struggling to keep calm. He kept looking down at himself, wiggled his legs. Nothing was stopping it. He looked right at me, as if trying to ask “is it noticeable?” It was. I was getting some of my own rise watching Brian struggle with himself.

He tried to adjust, pushing on his bulge with his hand. He tried to be discrete as he worked to adjust his position in the tighter fitting suit. Brian’s full hand was on his bulge. I wasn’t sure what he was trying to do, it looked as if he was trying to massage it, or maybe just push it down. Whatever it was, it was not having the desired effect.

“Any questions?” Coach asked.

Brian gave me this look as if saying “Thank goodness this is over.” It wasn’t, Coach went on to a whole new topic. I thought Brian was going to scream. He pulled his hand away, his suit was bulging so much you could see the entire outline of his anatomy. He wiggled both legs. He slid his hand back over his bulge, holding it there. He rolled his head back. In a flash Brian’s hand went from holding his suit to cupping his bulge. It looked as if his body was flinching. He was frozen, just standing there holding his fully over the front of his suit. His face was flush.

Thankfully Coach wrapped up. Brian bolted to shower.

—- to be continued—-