Summer in the band
The ribbons and the accolades spoke for themselves. Three straight Gold medals, three state championship wins, best brass solo performance two of three years. It is often said one person does not make up a great concert band, but one great performer can make a concert band great. In this case, a concert band that was a blend of students from three high schools and a few smaller schools across the Crown of Maine, a place where musical talent never could compete with the bigger schools in Portland, Bangor and Augusta. The wall of the “band hall”, if one could call it that, was lined with the accolades. The best was a write up from the Portland Press Herald that called the Aroostook Combined Regional Concert Band the best performance to hit Maine since the pilgrims. “At the top of the act is a gifted trumpet player, Chris Hill, who can play with the best of them worldwide,” the story went on to say. Oh sure, maybe exaggeration to a limited degree, but there was quite a bit of truth in the assessment.
Chris was a late child, the last of three in his family. One girl and two boys. He was lost when his family came to Maine, especially to the potato harvesting land of Northern Maine. Aroostook is way north, touching the Canadian border. In fact, it is so far up in Maine that Canada tried to claim it as their own land in the 1800’s, touching off a near war between the two countries. The real language of Aroostook is a blend of French, Canadian English and US English mixed in with an accent that makes all of it totally confusing. Not by choice, more by circumstance, Chris was really an only child. Fourteen years separated his older sister from him, so she was long gone and living in DC with her nerdy husband, a computer geek who worked for the NSA or something like that. His older brother of seven years was also his best inspiration., at least while he was around, but by the time they moved to Maine, Mickey was already in college “back home” in North Carolina.
Two things finally made Chris start to like the remote world of Northern Maine. The band was the first, and Chris quickly rose to the top of the local school band and then the regional band. Swimming was second. Chris joined the local swim team. While he loved swimming, he was not quite as good at it as he was music. The top swimming spots were locked down between Zachary and Ryan, to local guys. That did not stop Chris, who balanced swimming with band and the demands trumpet lessons in Orono, the home of Umaine.
Chris was a tall and handsome guy. He was over six feet, thin and muscular with a tight set of abs, muscular legs and a delightful smile. He wasn’t a bulky muscled guy, but he was softly chiseled with definitions that were clear, but not overly done. He had a fantastic smile of gorgeous white teeth, perfectly aligned. His face was soft, sweet and genuine. He was witty, fun and made people laugh. He attracted the eyes of every girl. When he was in his swimsuit he looked beyond stellar. He could well have been a model. Everything about him was handsome, well proportioned. He wore a swimsuit better than any guy on the team. Much to Ryan’s disappointment, Chris was absolutely straight and enjoyed the attention girls gave him, both at band and at the pool. He was fresh, non local opportunity in a region where family ties and small towns make for tightly knit circles. Pictures of Chris in his swim team suit were secretly stashed in the bedrooms, lockers and books of almost every girl in his school. He was cute, hot and they all wanted some action with him.
It was the end of his Senior year in high school when his trumpet instructor asked Chris about his interest in trying out for a group of students who would spend the Summer traveling Europe. He had just turned 18 and was ready for an adventure. The band would play concerts in six different countries, including one in Paris directly under the Eiffel Tower. His teacher, a music professor at the University of Maine would also be one of the band directors. It was a dream come true, except that it would mean he would miss most of Summer swimming season. Still far too great to pass up.
The alarm went off early, way too early for Chris’s roommate, Alexander. Chris quickly shut the alarm off, but not before it woke both of them up. They were in a small dorm room at a college on the outskirts of Boston, the band’s home for the first week. The band would spend long days rehearsing and pulling together before they would begin the European journey. Chris quietly slipped out of his bed, hoping Alex would not be too much more disturbed. Alex laid quietly watching Chris’s handsome male physique crawl from the bed. Chris reached for the tiny blue and gold Speedo swimsuit he had left on the top of his luggage. He slipped it on over his naked, youthful body, tucking his male parts into place inside the tight swimsuit. Chris was still somewhat aroused, a state he often woke up in, but nothing the water would not quickly resolve.
“What are you doing?” Alex asked groggily. He watched through the sliver of light coming under the dorm room door, enough light to allow Alex to see the shadow outline of Chris’s handsome body. Alex and Chris had hit it off well, in part because they had similar gregarious personalities, and because Alex thought Chris was cute. Very cute, in fact. Alex knew this would be a fun seven weeks. He did not know, until now, that Chris was a swimmer or that he’d be wearing tiny little swimsuits.
“Sorry, go back to sleep. I am going to do my swim workout.” Chris whispered. He felt bad for waking Alex.
In the dark light Alex could barely make out the swimsuit Chris had slipped on, except that he knew it was a Speedo swimsuit. The suit he watched Chris lay out the night before. Alex had never seen a guy live in a Speedo swimsuit, only on television watching the Olympics. Alex’s school had a swim team, but he never went to see them, despite his inner attraction to cute guys. As he watched Chris, he wanted to flip on the light and see him live, clad in the tiny little blue swimsuit. He could barely make out the dark form of the tight swimsuit against Chris’s body. What he could see told him Chris looked hot.
“Have fun,” Alex said. Alex was totally aroused under the sheets, a situation he would deal with after Chris left.
Chris slipped shorts on over his swimsuit, topped it with a yellow polo shirt, untucked, and grabbed his swim bag. He quietly opened door and slipped out, not even aware that Alex was actually watching him the whole time. The rest of the dorm was quiet as Chris headed off to the campus pool. It was barely six in the morning, breakfast was at 8 and rehearsal at 9. Enough time to get in four or five thousand yards. For whatever reason, Chris was still quite aroused in the swimsuit. He tugged at the front of his shorts as he walked to the pool. He preferred that his near erection would ease before he got there. “The one bad part of swimsuits,” he thought to himself.
Last edited by SwimTeamSpeedo : 11-10-2014 at 12:12 AM.
Part 1 continued
The pool was in a gorgeous building with a full glass side. It was a 25 meter pool with an adjacent dive well. It was by far one of the most amazing pools Chris had seen. He entered the main door, signed in with the cute young lady at the desk, She had long, sweeping blonde hair that looked soft and silky. She was wearing a red guard swimsuit and blue shorts. Her eyes were the prettiest color of blue and her smile made Chris practically melt. He was instantly in love.
“You’re with the band?” she said.
“Yeah,” Chris replied. “But I also swim,” he added almost implying band kids didn’t do such athletic endeavors.
“What do you play?” she asked.
“Trumpet,” Chris answered.
“You must be pretty good, too.” She added. “My name is Sheri, I am usually here in the mornings. How long are you here for?”
“Through Friday, then we fly to Amsterdam,” Chris replied.
“Well, I am sure I will see you around. The guys locker room is through there,” Sheri pointed. “Swimsuits only, as in like Speedos or jammers for guys, no shorts. Hope that is not a problem.”
“No, I wear racing briefs,” Chris replied, with a bashful smile.
“Perfect,” Sheri replied. “Oh, and Chris,” Sheri called out after checking his name on the sign in sheet.
“Yes,” Chris turned just as he started to open the locker door.
“No drowning, okay,” she teased with a smirk. “I really don’t want to work this early.”
“I’ll try not to,” Chris replied with a smile. She was flirting with him, Chris was flattered. In the locker room, he slid off the shorts. He adjusted himself in the tight blue Speedo. He looked in the mirror. His nearly hard anatomy was fully outlined by the tight lycra blend, a direct result of his still very aroused state. He jumped in the shower and rinsed off, which only made the lycra more clingy. All the while, he had Sheri’s cute smile and pretty eyes on his mind, which kept his body stimulated. Giving up on any hope of calming down, he pushed open the door to the pool and walked through. The pool was empty. He was the first swimmer there, not unusual in the Summer when college was out of session. Another cute female guard sat on the guard stand. Chris walked swiftly to the second to last lane, close to the floor to ceiling glass window. He grabbed a kickboard and pull buoys as he walked by.
The cute guard, watched as Chris checked his strings, then jumped into the pool. He was definitely a cute guy. By the look of his tiny Speedo, he surely had the right equipment, and he was very well put together by any girl’s standard. Chris pushed off the wall, his tall lean body gliding just below the surface of the water. If was a wonderful display of the young male body. His tiny blue suit barely visible as his well defined silhouette shimmered in the clear blue pool. The cool water had calmed him, but things in the guard stand were just heating up.
Last edited by SwimTeamSpeedo : 11-10-2014 at 12:15 AM.
Well, you've done it again. You set up the story for all kinds of possibilities, straight and gay roommates for 7 weeks, traveling in Europe no less, the admiration and flirting of a couple of hot women life guarding, and the question of whether Chris will be able to keep up his swimming while traveling. How is an 18 year old from Aroostook County, Maine going to react to the wonders of Amsterdam, Paris, etc.? What's Alex going to do about his attraction to Chris? Will he ever confess his attraction? So many things to consider. And, as always, terrific, natural dialogue. Thanks for starting up again.
Writers note: I meant to post this last time: This is a work of fiction, any similarity to any one in real life is totally coincidental. All characters are of adult age.
“Good swim,” Sheri called out to Chris as he climbed from the pool. She admired how he lifted himself with one arm, his well defined pecs puffed up from his swim. She watched as his tiny blue swimsuit clung to his package, giving her quite the display of his manhood, which still looked great despite the effects of the cool pool water. She had watched many guys get out of he water with hardly a bulge left, but Chris was still well gifted, even wet.
“Yes, thank you for asking,” Chris replied. “I love this pool.” Chris pulled the wet clinging suit from his anatomy and in usual swimmer fashion he tugged out his strings and untied them, letting them hang loose in front of him. Sheri smiled as she watched him, she always thought it was funny that the guys did that little string thing. She thought it was boyishly cute, though.
“Yes, it is a nice pool, we have a pretty good swim team here,” she replied. “Maybe you can come to college here and swim for us.” she added.
“That would be cool,” Chris replied. “Not sure I am good enough for college swimming, though.”
“I think you are, plus you’d improve the looks of the team,” she said as if she was teasing him, but she wasn’t.
“Must be pretty ugly guys on the team, then, if a goof ball like me can make them look better,’ Chris replied.
“So, will I see you here tomorrow?” Sheri asked, still admiring the cute body standing in front of her. Sheri was only one year older, having just finished her freshman year. She was still a college girl in Chris’s eyes. He’d never had a college girl interested.
“Yeah, for sure,” Chris replied. He was plating with his strings with one hand, a nervous release. “Hey, any more lap swimming here at night?” he asked.
“Yeah, at five through nine, and there is recreation swimming from 3 to 5. Bring some of your band friends.”
“Thank you, Sheri,” Chris replied.
“See you around, Chris. And hey, you really should come to college here. You already got a friend.” She winked at him.
Chris smiled as he entered the locker room. He was starting to feel the same arousal he had on his way to the pool, a desire greater than just the a passing urge. He turned on the shower and waited for the water to warm up while he rinsed out his goggles. Once the water was warm, Chris jumped in and lathered up, letting the water rush off his head and ripple down his chest and across his swimsuit front. He slowly slipped the wet swimsuit off, his parts springing out like they had just been released from capture. He was, in fact, totally erect, his manhood standing almost straight upward, every vein defined. It turned out to be a longer shower than usual as Chris made sure he was ready for a long day of sitting and playing trumpet. He needed no distractions, especially not erotic desires coming from his parts.
Chris dried off and grabbed his shorts from his bag. The band hall would be hot, so he was planning to wear a pair of Soccer shorts with a Brasil soccer shirt, a hold over from his interest in the World Cup. As he rummaged through his bag, Chris realized he had failed to pack underwear. “Crap,” he said to himself. He had burnt up two hours at the pool, already late for breakfast, no time to get back to his dorm, grab dry underwear and have time to eat. His only other option was his wet swimsuit under the shorts or he could go commando. Chris tried commando, but quickly realized that the short shorts created too much risk. Finally, he decided to try to dry out the wet swimsuit as much as he could using a wall mounted hand dryer. He slipped on the still damp suit, pulled the shorts over and let his shirt hang over the shorts, which were quickly absorbing the moisture left in the swimsuit. “It will dry soon enough,” he thought to himself.
“I was worried you had drowned or something,” Alex said as Chris sat down with his breakfast. His plate was full, the reward for a great swim session. “How was your swim?” Alex asked as he watched Chris shovel a fork load of eggs into his mouth.
“Awesome,” Chris said. “The pool here is really cool. And I met this really cute lifeguard who wants me to come to college here.”
“Wow, you have had a great morning,” Alex replied. Alex listened intently as Chris filled him in on Sheri and the pool, all the while watching as Chris packed in his extra large breakfast. “Hey, how come your shorts are wet?” Alex finally interjected as a very animated Chris came up for air.
“Oh yeah, stupid me didn’t pack any undies, so I had to put my wet swimsuit back on.” Chris smirked as he said it. “So, it looks like I pee’d myself.”
“Your shorts are like my bathing suits,” Alex replied as the guys got up from the table. “You swimsuit is pretty tiny.”
“Yeah, Speedos are pretty cool swimsuits, but they are on the tiny side,” Chris replied.
“Yeah, but they do look hot on the right guy, like you,” Alex replied. The comment caught Chris a bit off guard. He had never had a guy call him hot. Chris left the comment hang. Alex had actually never called a guy hot before to his face, either. The comment just slipped out.
“Let’s go do this,” Chris replied. The two guys headed off to the first group rehearsal. They were opposites in so many ways. Chris was lean and athletic, Alex was a die hard musician who didn’t play any sports. Chris was a brass player, Alex played the oboe. Chris was into girls, Alex was just coming to terms with being into guys. Despite all of this, they were forging a deep bond.
Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition was one of Chris’s favorite compositions. The band version was not quite the same as the full orchestra version, but for a trumpet player the solo parts were showcase. The band had received the music weeks before and Chris had worked night and day to perfect the muted trumpet solos as well as the grand opening. There were two great trumpet players in the band, Chris from Maine and some guy names Len from a small town near Allentown, PA. Chris was ready, but he knew it would be a battle for the lead trumpet position, a post that would come down to how perfectly they each played the solo parts of Pictures. It was for exactly this reason that Chris wanted to make sure he had nothing to distract him, not even sexual tension coming from his discovery of Sheri.
Len was equally as tall as Chris, but he had long dark hair, a skinny mustache, and he wore Tight, low cut jeans than hung hardly on his waist. He had a punk style shirt and blank high top tennis shoes. If there was ever a contrast to the clean look of Chris, Len was perfect. There was one common line between them, they both could blow a trumpet exceptionally well. For most of the morning, the two players went back and forth, trading solos and parts at the whim of the director, a tough leader who demanded perfection. He treated the band as through they were a world class symphony. He was the toughest director most of these young men and women had ever seen.
“Chris, Chris, Chris,” the director yelled. “You sound wonderful, but you need to fill the auditorium with sound. Blow it like you mean it.” Alex chuckled at the thought. “Again, not give me some sound!” the relentless director added.
By the end of the morning session, Chris and Len had both had enough. Neither knew what to think about their chances. “We break until 2. Go get lunch and relax.” the rather obnoxious director said to the group.
“You play really well,” Chris offered to Len as they closed up their trumpet cases.
“I know,” replied Len. Nothing else.
“Okay then,” Chris whispered under his breath as Len turned and walked away. If nothing else, Len was certainly arrogant.
Chris tugged at the front of his shorts, pulling the tight Speedo underneath from its grip on his package. He loved wearing his swimsuits, but after a while they started to feel really tight.
“Hey, lets grab lunch and go lay in the sun,” a bunch of the guys from the band suggested, Alex and Chris among them.
“Good idea,” Alex offered. “I just need to go get some shorts on,”
“I am just wearing my boardies,” said Peter, a clarinet player who was, in fact, wearing board shorts and a Polo shirt. He pointed at his shorts as he said it.
“You in?,” Alex asked Chris.
“Yeah, maybe.,” Chris replied.
“You already got a swimsuit on,” Alex added. “Your the most ready of all of us.” Alex was getting hopeful and excited at the image of Chris laying out in his Speedo. He was sure Chris would be the only Speedo guy.
The guys all grabbed the box lunches that had been brought in for them from a local lunch restaurant. They were getting rambunctious at the thought of spending two hours outside. The guys in jeans all headed to their dorms to get shorts or swimsuits. Chris and Patrick stayed back, both guys were already in shorts. “We’ll meet you guys back here,” they all agreed.
“Mr. Hill,” the voice startled Chris and Patrick. It was the director, along with Chris’s instructor from Umaine, who was the brass assistant director.
“Um, yes sir,” Chris replied.
“May we both have a chat with you, privately?” the request followed.
“Sure,” replied Chris. “Patrick, I will try to catch up.”
“We want to talk to you about the solos and about you being lead trumpet,” the director said as they walked to a table.
“This is great news,” Chris’s instructor added.
“You are an exceptionally gifted musician, young man, possibly the best I have seen at your age.” the director complimented Chris. He was a much nicer man in person than he was in front of the band. “Your skill is impressive. By the way, I made the decision on my own so there was no unfair advantage” the director added, a reference to the relationship with his instructor.
“Thank you sir,” replied Chris. “Thank you, both “ he added.
The three chatted for several minutes. As they wrapped up the director said, “I am told you are also quite the swimmer.”
“Well, I am not sure about the quite part, but I do love to swim, second to trumpet,” Chris added.
“It is why you have that lung power, young man,” said the director. “The good news is, I am a swimmer, too. I know where every lap pool is on our entire trip. We must go work out as we travel.”
“That would be great sir,” Chris replied.
“Now, go have fun. I will announce this to the band after lunch, so please do not tell anyone. I need to talk to Len, too.”
“Yes, sir,” Chris replied. With that he ran off to catch up with the guys. He so badly wanted to tell Sheri, too. He would honor his word.
Last edited by SwimTeamSpeedo : 11-11-2014 at 10:11 PM.
Another wonderful chapter. You've answered at least 2 questions I raised - Chris will be able to find pools to swim laps, and Alex seems like he's on his way to telling Chris about his sexual orientation. The dialogue works so well to convey the mood of the characters and contributes to the fleshing out (no pun intended!) of the personalities of these characters. Keep them coming.
Chris woke up just ahead of the alarm, glad that he did not wake Alex, who appeared to be sound asleep. Just as he had done before, Chris quietly slipped from the bed and switched from his boxer briefs to the swimsuit he had laid out the night before. This time he chose one of his favorite Turbo brand swimsuits, a white background with California Republic displayed on the back side and a small picture on the front. It was one of Chris’s favorite suits, especially since California seemed like such a far away place for a young guy from Maine. The suit fit really snug, and it was cut much more narrow than his Speedo and Nike brand suits, also sitting lower on the hips. With all the white, it was double lined, as most water polo suits are. There really was something about the fit that Chris liked, both the way it looked and the way it felt. He tied the strings tightly, careful not to knot them. He had been knotted into his swimsuits before, nothing like thinking you will never get your swimsuit off. He once had to wear a swimsuit almost all day because he could not get the know out of it. He used a study hall to free himself. Chris smiled to himself as he thought about that.
“Hey, you going swimming again?” Alex mumbled sleepily.
“Sorry, did I wake you?”
“It’s okay, I wanted to see what you were going to wear swimming today.” Alex mumbled, not fully aware of what he was saying. “I saw that white swimsuit laying there last night.”
“Yeah, it is one of my favorites,” Chris replied.
“Let me see it on,” Alex asked. “Turn on the lamp.”
Chris felt weird about showing off a swimsuit to another guy, but he went along with it. He reached over and turned on the lamp. He stood out from the desk so Alex could see him. Chris was really packed into the suit, which held his equipment out front and forward, making a prominent display of manly bulge. The material outlined the sides of his anatomy as his part tucked downward, curving down to between his legs. Chris was more well equipped than average, and that advantage showed in his tight swimsuits, especially Turbo suits.
“Awesome,” Alex replied. “You look great,” he added with a smile. Chris flinched a little at the compliment, not sure how to respond. Was Alex gay or just a nice guy, Chris thought to himself.
“Thanks, man,” Chris replied. “Now, go back to sleep. See you at breakfast.”
“Have fun with that lifeguard,” Alex said as he rolled over. Chris quietly closed the door behind himself, leaving Alex to wrestle once again with the urges of attraction erupting between his legs.
“Hey Sheri,” Chris said as he reached the pool entrance. Chris had on a pair of Nylon running shorts over his Turbo swimsuit. His bulge was clearly visible, even through the looser nylon material. Sheri immediately noticed how his manhood was filling out the shorts, not to mention how he would fill out whatever swimsuit he had on. She smiled back at him, eyes on his crotch mostly.
“Hi Chris. I was hoping you’d be here. I need a nice looking guy swimmer to wake me up.” Sheri replied. “I need a hot guy in a Speedo to look at.”
“Ha, you are sweet and funny,” Chris replied. He could feel his body responding to her.
“Hey, what is your phone number, I wanted to text you yesterday to see how practice was going?” Sheri asked him.
“Oh, cool. It is 207-555-1111. Text me so I can get yours,” Chris replied. “See you at the pool,”
“Oh hey, Chris,” Sheri called out. Chris stopped and looked. “Only tight Speedo suits are allowed today,” she smiled, clearly flirting with him. Chris blushed.
“On no,” he replied. “No Speedo today, but it is tight,” He replied with a smirk. By the time he finished, his suit was more than just tight, it was barely holding him in.
Chris swam a long distance work out, swimming for almost two miles, followed by some extra technique drills. After a little over 90 minutes in the water, he decided it was time to get ready for breakfast and band. The director said it was going to be a long day. “Come prepared to play your very best,” he had told the band. He was tough, but Chris also knew he was really a nice guy, too.
Chris hoisted himself out of the pool as Sheri watched. She almost drooled on herself at the sight of Chris in the tiny, sheer white suit with the California Republic emblem. Despite it being double lined with thick white lycra material, Chris had not noticed that in the right light, the suit had a slight bit of sheerness. Enough that Sheri was getting a bit more than a look at the lycra encased bulge and the outline of Chris’s anatomy. It was not obscene, just enough that you could tell something was under the material. Chris did not really look that closely at himself, and the pool at home was much darker, more of a grey light than the bright fluorescent.
“Wow,” Sheri said. “You look sensational in that swimsuit.” She wasn’t kidding. He really did.
“Thanks,” Chris replied as he did his little string pull.
“Some of the guys on swim team here wear Turbo suits, they are really cool. None of them have that one, though.” Sheri added.
“I really like this one, it is a favorite,” Chris answered. “Is it weird for a guy to have a favorite?”
“Well, not at all. It is my favorite, too. Wearing white is pretty daring for a guy, too.” Sheri replied. As they talked, Chris felt himself getting hard, not just a little hard, he felt a full on spontaneous boner erupting. He glanced down and could see that his bulge was now very prominent. Being positioned down, he looked like he had stuffed a banana in his swimsuit, the detail of his erect state visible in the protrusions of the tight lycra material.
“This is the only white suit I have,” Chris added, trying to be calm. He didn’t want to run off and miss a chance to chat with Sheri, but he also was hoping she did not notice he was bulging like a wild man. She had noticed, but she said nothing. She enjoyed knowing she could make his body respond. Being a swimmer herself, she had seen her share of guys with boners in their Speedos. It just happens. She kind of felt bad for them when it did.
“So how long is band today,” Sheri questioned as she watched Chris place his hand strategically in front of himself, holding the loose strings between two fingers.
“Most of the day,” Chris replied. The two chatted for several minutes, the whole time Chris was getting more and more aroused as he watched Sheri. Her smile was infectious, and her eyes were wonderful. She might be the most pretty girl he had ever seen. He could feel himself responding to her in ways he could not describe. He felt his manly parts surging with desire. Chris needed to get to the locker room.
“Hey, we get a lunch break at noon, want to have lunch together?” Chris finally asked, his legs spread a bit as he flexed his muscled legs against the tide of desire he was feeling.
“That would be sweet,” she replied. She smiled at him. She knew he was really turned on. “Have fun at practice,” she added as she reached out and touched his shoulder. That about sent Chris over the edge.
“See you later,” Chris said as he headed off to the locker room. He wasn’t a moment too soon. Chris had never had an explosion in his swimsuit before, but he knew he was really close. The pressure building in his groin was intense. Too close.
“Oh crap,’ Chris said to himself as he entered the locker room. He could feel himself getting more excited. He quickly striped himself out of the suit seconds before the inevitable happened. “What the ….” Chris thought to himself. He never realized he could get so excited over a girl that he could make himself do what he just did all by itself. Thankfully, he was alone. Chris had never had sex with a girl, in fact, he had not done much more than kissing. He wondered what it must feel like to really want to go that far, he guessed that it probably would feel like what just happened. He stepped in the hot shower and let himself absorb what had just happened.
Alex laid in bed after Chris had left, he could not get the thought of Chris out of his mind. “How am I ever going to stay with such a hot guy for seven weeks and not go crazy over him,” Alex wondered to himself. “How many of those swimsuits does he have,” Alex‘s thoughts continued. His mind raced with all sorts of fantasies. He just wanted to get up and rummage through Chris’s luggage and see what other suits he had. “But you would be mad if he did that to you,” Alex thought. His rational side won out and he stayed out of the luggage, as tempting as it was.
Alex finally got up and got ready to go get a shower. As he was putting on shorts and a shirt, he saw the blue and yellow Speedo from yesterday hanging over a hangar in Chris’s wardrobe closet. Chris had washed it out in the sink last night and left it to dry. Alex reached in and grabbed the hangar. He pulled the suit off. Alex had never held a swimsuit so tiny, he was almost getting aroused just holding it. He pulled the label out of the back seam so he could read it. Size 28. “Wow, he has a tiny waist,” Alex thought. “I would have never guessed his waist was so small with the size of his chest, and the size of his -----,” Alex’s thoughts wandered. Alex held the suit up to his own waist and fantasized what it would look like on. The suit looked so tiny and revealing.
“Just put it on,” Alex’s devil side urged him. “But it is not yours,” his good guy side responded. His mind played point - counter point until he was almost dizzy. The whole time he looked at the swimsuit against his groin. “But, I am just a 30 waist, so it is not that much smaller,” Alex finally rationalized. With that he slipped off his shorts and slipped his right foot through the leg opening of the tiny blue swimsuit, followed by his left leg. His body was growing as he pulled the suit up. Finally, he pulled the suit over his almost erect manhood and tried to tuck himself into the tiny little lycra hold. Alex was not as big as Chris in the equipment area, but the suit sure felt snug.
Alex stood back and admired himself in the mirror. His flabby, but not fat belly hung ever so slightly over the top waistband, clearly he was not as well defined as Chris. Still, he thought the suit looked sexy on him, and the fit was like getting a constant massage of a sensual nature. “How do swimmers wear these and not shoot their rocks off,” Alex wondered, almost chuckling at his own thought. Alex felt himself with his hands, rubbing down his chest and across his body, he played with his senses as he stroked every aspect of his anatomy from the outside of the suit. Alex admired how the suit clung to him. His male parts never looked so good, not even in the few pair of silky underwear he bought secretly at the mall. He was taking himself to a self induced sensual place as he enjoyed the lycra giving him sensations he had never felt before.
Alex turned just as the door knob turned and the door to the dorm room swung open.
“Holy crap, ever think of knocking first,” Alex blurted out.
“What are you doing?!” came the jolting reply.
Alex was frozen in place, totally naked but for the narrow two inch blue and gold band of lycra that wrapped around his waist, his hand resting on his bulging anatomy. He was fully engaged in his own act of self pleasure, and his state of erotic desire showed clearly in the tight wrap of the swimsuit. “I, um, was just, um, trying it on,” came the sheepish, stammering reply. Alex was so close to finishing the job, close enough that he could feel the rumbles of the first pulsations building in his testicles. They were still there. A rush of agitation took over, “what the hell, man, you should have knocked!” he finally raged back.
“I was just coming to see if you were ready for breakfast. If you were going to jack off, you really should have locked the door!” came Patrick’s reply. “I mean, I am sorry, but I never expected you’d be yanking yourself. What the heck are you wearing?”
The urges in Alex’s loins were fading, relegated to a little trickle of fluid that was now soaking through the lycra material and a few minor eruptions of what was going to be a fantastic explosion. “It’s Chris’s swimsuit, don’t you say a f---ing word. He is swimming and he left this hanging, so I tried it on.” Alex answered. They both paused. “You ever wear one of these, dude they are like, I don’t know. I just don’t get how swimmers don’t always have erections in them. I mean they fit so tight.”
“Alex, you better go get showered and wash that thing up. If I were Chris I’d be really mad if I knew you were screwing with my stuff.” Patrick replied. “It is bad enough you tried it on, but…”
“You think I’m weird, right?” Alex cut Patrick off, now feeling totally embarrassed and ashamed at the same time.
“Think, nah, I know you are weird.” Patrick replied, breaking into a smile. “Go finish your hand job in the shower, jerk boy. Then let’s meet at my room and get breakfast. You’ll probably need the energy after playing with yourself.” Patrick laughed as he said it. “It is only the first few days and this is already turning out to be a crazy experience,” Patrick thought to himself. He also pictured Chris in his mind. “Damn, he’d look hot in that swimsuit,” Patrick further imagined to himself. A smile came over him.
“Hey Turbo, where u want to meet for lunch?” came the text message on Chris’s cell phone. It was from Sheri. “I have break at noon for an hour, how about at the food court? U got time?”
Chris smiled as he read it. “Sounds x lent,” he replied. “No Turbo, board shorts 4 lunch,” he teased back in reply.
“Oh well, ok” she texted back.
Practice was going really well, except that Len was not talking to Chris, in fact he was not talking to anyone. He was mad, and he made that real clear. He was also getting mean. Rumor of the brass guys was that he was going to drop out. Some of them hoped it was more than just rumor. Just as the band broke for lunch Len gave Chris his biggest slam of the morning. “You know swimmer boy, you are not as good a musician as you think. And you swim like a brick, too. I’m telling the director that you were texting during rehearsal. You’ll learn not to mess with me.”
“Thanks Len, appreciate it,” Chris replied. The best way to deal with a petty jerk was to ignore him. As much as Chris wanted to haul off and deck the guy, and he could have sent the jerk flying, he decided to hold back the urge. Len was dumbfounded. He did not know what to say next. Finally, red faced, Len turned and walked away. Chris secretly flipped him a hand gesture.
“There is my cute swimmer,” Sheri called out to Chris as he approached her at the college food court. Summer session was in, but the crowd was light. She grabbed him by the hips and gave him a big hug, pulling him into her. He smiled as she looked at him. “You are cute, even in clothes,“ she added.
“You are cute always,” Chris replied. They held hands and contemplated lunch, taking in the options. The two finally opted for Quiznos, Chris got a meatball sub, she had smoked turkey. They both threw in a big chocolate chip cookie. As they ate, sitting side by side, she rested her hand on his leg, rubbing the material of his board shorts. She knew exactly how to tease desire into his male body. She was being very successful. She was also filling with desire.
“I wish we could hang out all afternoon,” he finally said. He could feel that his shorts would be bulged when he stood, but he didn’t care. He was enjoying her company, in multiple ways. She sat quietly as he told her about Len. Her hand riding up his leg, she loved how muscular his upper leg felt. She wanted to go further, but thought best to stay a few inches away from his man parts.
“What a jerk,” she responded. “You should have just knocked him on the floor.”
“No, why get tossed from the trip over a dweeb like him.” Chris replied. “He’s a spoiled blowhard.” She laughed at the description. “Let’s change the subject.” Chris added directly. He had no desire to rehash Len. More important, he would not let Len’s bad attitude ruin his hour with the cutest girl he had ever seen. He wanted her to feel more of him, he wanted more of her.
“So, you’ve never told me where you are from?” Sheri asked with the most precious smile.
“Don’t get too excited,” Chris started his reply. “I am from Aroostook county Maine, or as the locals call it, ‘the county.’ You ever heard of it. Way up top of Maine. Like six people live there.” Chris was only partly kidding.
“No way!,” Sheri replied. “I am from Millinocket, not as far north, but yeah, I know where you live. Potato land,” she replied. “My dad goes hunting up there, every year. Wow, so cool, you are a Maine guy. I knew there was something about you I really liked,” she teased. The cute couple volleyed Maine stories for the next twenty minutes.
“So, how did you get to here?” Chris asked.
“Oh, you know, had to come see the big city. I love it here. The college is great, I love the city.” She was excited. “You really need to come to college here,” Sheri added. “I need a way north Maine guy to show these people the way life should be.” she mocked Maine’s tourism theme.
‘Sheri, I got to get back," Chris broke the conversation. "See if I get tossed out for texting,” he laughed. “Will you be at the pool tomorrow?”
“If you are coming in your cute swimsuit, I wouldn’t miss it,” she replied. “Oh, hey, wait,” she added as they stood and started to part ways. “I got something for you,” she was reaching in her pocketbook. As she pulled out the item, she continued “I asked our swim team coach if he could get me one of these,” she handed Chris a team swimsuit from the college swim team. “It’s last year’s team swimsuit. I hope you like it.”
Chris held it up. “It’s cool,” he said. He fidgeted to see the size, trying to be discrete, Sheri noticed, she does not miss a thing.
“I kind of guessed your size, hope I was close,” she added.
“How did you know, you got it exactly, size 28. Most think I am like 30 or 32,” Chris replied.
“Well, I see you at the pool. You are so fit and well built. I knew your waist was smaller than your height and size would appear. I called my brother and he said you were probably 28, maybe 26 in a Speedo.” she replied.
“He is really smart. I am 28 and for swim meets I wear a 26.” Chris replied. “Thank you so much.,” he grabbed Sheri and pulled her close. “You are really sweet.”
“I am glad you like it. Coach wants to meet you, too,” she added.
They two held each other close, their faces drawing in. Suddenly they were embraced in a full on, deep and passionate kiss. Chris’s board shorts tented with his arousal, but he did not care. Neither did she, as she felt him touching her with his groin. He was hard and she loved it.
“Go play well,” she whispered as they broke apart. His erect state was obvious, She enjoyed it, but said nothing. With his hand he tried to press it down, but failed. Neither cared.
“I’ll wear it tomorrow,” Chris said as they headed off, holding up the burgundy and gold custom made suit. It really was an awesome swimsuit. Chris smiled as he pictured himself in it.
Last edited by SwimTeamSpeedo : 11-17-2014 at 12:27 AM.
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