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    Rip Skor
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Boy Story: The Road Taken - 48. At Swim, Two Boys

At Swim, Two Boys

 

After a few days passed, Parker posted a schedule of his swim events on the bulletin board in our dorm room. I studied it with great interest. The first meet was on the Saturday preceding Thanksgiving break. I guess swimming is slotted as a winter sport because it is held indoors, not because it requires snow or ice. I suddenly realized how difficult it must be to keep momentum going for a winter sport when both Thanksgiving and Winter Break occur during the season.

“Hey Parker, are you going to invite your mother to your first meet?” I asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. I keep going back and forth on that one. I was thinking I should. But then what if I suck? Maybe I should get one under my belt before I go inviting people. But then again it is the first one, so it’s kind of special. The team that we’re swimming against has been weak in previous years, so it’s a good way to start the season. Oh… I just don’t know what to do,” he lamented. “What do you think?”

“Well, look at it this way. You didn’t think you were even good enough to be on the team, so I think your mother would appreciate seeing your first time whether you do well or not. The simple fact that you will be swimming on a college team is special enough on its own,” I reasoned.

“Yeah, you might be right. I think I’ll do that. Hmm, I guess you’re good for something,” he joked.

“You mean besides sex?”

“Exactly!”

“You better watch out pal or I’ll take my eight inch dick to where I’m appreciated,” I continued to joke with him.

“No, not that!” he exclaimed wrestling me on the bed. We kissed a few times and then we lay on our right sides as I pulled him into me and held him. I breathed in deeply to enjoy the aroma of his sweet scented hair, and I gently kissed his neck. And then we just melted into one another.

“Matt?” he whispered.

“Mmmm?”

He got up and I rolled onto my back. He kissed me once on the lips, then once on my chest, once on my belly, once on my crotch, and then he grabbed my right foot and began sucking my toes.

I laughed and said, “Out of all of the parts of me you could have put into your mouth, you finally decided on my toes?”

“What’s wrong with that? You have such nice feet,” he affirmed.

Then he started giving me a deep massage on my right foot. Then he said, “Hold on a second. Let me do this right.” He went and got a tube of hand cream from his dresser. He greased his hands and then resumed the foot rub.

“Oh Parker, that feels soooooo good!” And after about 10 minutes, he greased his hands again and began on the left foot.

“Oh, my god. Parker, I’m in heaven!”

After about 20 minutes total on both feet, he said, “There, how was that?”

“Well, I’ve always said you have magic hands. This proves it."

“I thought you said I have a magic butt,” he inquired.

“Well, Parker, I guess you’re just magically delicious!” I declared.

“Ha, ha. So you want to suck my feet now?” he joked

“No thank you. I already ate.”

“Hey, I just remembered. I have a situation we need to discuss,” he began.

“Sure, what is it?”

“Well, last week you fucked me really good on Monday night. It was totally hot, but it left me sore the next day. I had swim practice on Tuesday and every time I kicked my legs, pain shot up from my butthole and I had to stop. The coach wanted to know what was wrong, and I told him I got a charley horse. He had me get out of the pool and try to walk it off.”

“Sounds like we need to be more aware of the treatment of your butt during swim season,” I suggested.

“I agree,” Parker confessed.

“No problem there. We can just do other things,” I began. “Or, if you want, I can bottom during swim season.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not! Why would I?”

“I don’t know. You always seem like you prefer to top,” Parker replied.

“Right, because you said you love to bottom more. And then you said ‘With a dick like yours, you’re built to be a top.’ So I was just giving you what you wanted,” I explained.

“Oh yeah. I guess I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Look, I’m happy to have any sex with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“OK, then suck my toes!” he ordered with a devilish grin while waving his feet in front of my face.

So to prove my point, I grabbed his right ankle and sucked his toes while I realized there would be a lot more douching trips to the library restroom in my future. Nobody wants to fuck a filthy bottom.

In the days to come, I endeavored to get a group together to witness Parker’s first swim. He had made many friends on the floor, so a number of people were interested in being part of the group going to cheer him on. I was quick to get a “yes” from Joe. “Your boy can swim, too? OK, count me in!” And Joe added his new roommate Josh. We pretty much got everyone who met Parker at the dorm fiesta to attend. Joanne and Marlene also had a friend named Sharon who was swimming on the women’s team, so they were acutely interested. As I learned, both men’s and women’s teams swim at the same time and then simply alternate heats. We all decided to cheer for Parker on the men’s team and Sharon on the women’s team when they were swimming.

Parker did end up inviting his mother, but he wasn’t sure if she’d show up because she didn’t like crowds. He told her, “Mom, this isn’t like the hockey or football teams. We generally don’t get crowds at swim meets.”

When the blessed day arrived, we had ten people in the stands. We probably would have had more if there wasn’t a play being performed that day. We had a few thespians on the floor. Nevertheless, our group got there early to claim seats in a prime location. The “seats” were wooden benches in the stands above the pool. Once we were settled, I kept an eye on the door in case Ginny turned up.

The swim meet was to start at 2:00 and, until then, swimmers from both teams were allowed to swim warm-up laps. At about 1:45, I spotted Ginny and Helen entering through the main door. That was a surprise. I stood up and waved until Helen spotted me and they made their way over to our area. As I quickly cleared some bench space for them, I announced, “Heads up everyone! Parker’s mother and aunt will be joining us!” When they made it over, I hugged them both.

Helen whispered, “Don’t worry. We’ll be cool.” The prospect of being accidentally outed by either Helen or Ginny in front of all of our friends hadn’t occurred to me. Good thing it occurred to them.

I introduced them to the group, and everyone was telling them how much they loved Parker. Ginny and Helen became instant celebrities, and I could tell they were pleased. Ginny brought along a small photo album filled with pictures of Parker from year one to 17. “I hope to add to it today,” she said pulling out a small camera. “I’ve been there for all of his other firsts,” she added.

Well, the photo album became the topic of conversation as it made the rounds. Two girls from the floor, Kim and Sandy, were making a fuss over the pictures. “Oh my god! Look at this one. He’s so cute!” one of them said over the picture of an 8-year-old blond boy mugging for the camera and wearing an oversized football jersey and a backwards baseball cap.

“Oh, that was the year he went trick-or-treating as a rapper. I don’t think everyone picked up on it at first…and then he’d start rapping.”

“How was he?” one of them called out.

“He was a like a pint-sized M&M,” Ginny replied.

As I looked through the album, I wasn’t sure how to feel. There were all these photos of this cute little blond boy in a baseball uniform, boy on a horse, boy at the beach, excited boy at Xmas, etc. I found it mentally complicated to reconcile these innocent, carefree Norman Rockwell images of the cute blond boy versus the blond boy lying nude on a bed begging me to fuck him. Then of course there was the full frontal baby picture revealing to all that Parker was indeed uncircumcised.

In the U.S., it is quite common for a woman to go through her entire dating years with many suitors and never encounter a foreskin. This photo might be the only foreskin they ever see, so I think there was a degree of veiled curiosity.

Joe was sitting to my left, Ginny was on my right, and Helen was sitting next to Ginny. Ginny leaned into me and asked, “So where is he?”

“I don’t know. I was asking myself the same thing. He has to be down there somewhere,” I assured her.

It wasn’t until Parker’s name went up on the board before the 100 meter backstroke that I looked at lane 4 and there he was. No one had recognized him because he was wearing a swim cap. Some male swimmers would shave their heads or go with crew cuts, but those with more hair had to wear swim caps. Of course all of the women swimmers had caps on as well.

When Parker was getting ready for the 100 meter, I started getting really nervous. My adrenaline was flowing and I wasn’t even the one swimming. As the swimmers were standing around the starting blocks, I was sizing up the competition. Most of the guys were bigger than Parker. Do more muscles equal more speed? But Parker is lighter and skinnier, so less drag in the water might equalize things. It was hard to predict having never watched a swimming competition before.

The swimmers took their places. Since it was the backstroke, they start in the pool with their backs first as they hang from the starting blocks. It was a 100 meter heat and each time across the pool is 25 meters, so it was to be four pool lengths. The ready buzzer sounded and then the go buzzer and they were off. Then the stands opened up, “Alright Parker! C’mon Parker! Parker, Parker, Parker!”

It was a tremendous reception compared to everyone else who didn’t have their own cheering section. I just remember thinking, “Gee, I hope he swims well.”

The swimmers were pretty bunched up through the first 50 meters. Then there were three out in front and Parker was one of them. In the final lap, it looked like Parker suddenly had a jet pack on. Our cheering section was going crazy. I was yelling, Ginny was yelling, Helen was yelling. Then it was pure insanity when Parker won the race! We were all jumping up and down high-fiving and hugging each other. I had to discretely wipe the tears out of my eyes. Ginny and I looked at each other stunned. Did this just happen? “Parker just fucking won!” Helen called out. “Excuse my French!” Fortunately, Helen’s well-chosen profanity was buried in the overall din.

As I watched Parker, the race ended and he had no idea he won. Then his teammate in the next lane tapped him on the shoulder and pointed at the scoreboard. Parker looked at the board for a couple of seconds and then threw a fist in the air and yelled. We couldn’t hear it over the commotion, but now we knew that he knew. His teammate swam over and hugged him. Then they climbed out of the pool.

“That little shit,” Ginny declared. “Good for him!” I couldn’t have said it more eloquently.

Parker went to the pool side and took off the cap. He looked up to the stands with a big smile on his face and waved. Alas the day was still young. Parker’s next race would be the 200 meter backstroke—the same thing, but double the distance. But that wasn’t going to be for a few more heats.

Until his next race came up, Parker stood by the pool with the assistant coach and a couple of other swimmers from his team. I’m looking at Parker standing there wearing nothing but a Speedo with his mop of dirty blond hair, still dry courtesy of the swim cap. I thought to myself, “Shit, that boy is…standing there nearly naked. And he's fucking hot!” If I’m checking out all his body parts, it’s OK. But he is on display to everyone in the stands. Who knows who could be sitting there in the stands catching an eyeful to replay later in a more intimate setting. There has to be something illegal about a teenage boy standing like that in public. Hell, I was getting turned on and I’d seen it all before…well OK, a bit more than just seeing. Again the dichotomy emerged: the innocent, unaware boy displaying a body that was built for sex.

I made it a point later on to persuade him to wear his warm up suit bottoms like some of the other swimmers while he is hanging around the pool in public. “It’s a safety issue,” I said.

“Safety? From what?” he asked.

“From molesters!” I replied.

“Molesters? Like who?”

“Like me for starters,” I joked.

He laughed but ultimately accepted my advice.

Getting back to the competition, Parker was swimming the 200 backstroke against one of the captains of his team, Mike, a backstroke specialist. At the last two laps, the two of them were neck and neck way ahead of the rest of the pack. Again we were all cheering for Parker to be victorious. Mike pulled ahead and beat Parker by two strokes. But in swimming, you get points for second place too, so it was actually a win for the team. The two of them were hugging in the pool with their fists in the air for finishing one and two. Pretty good for a kid who wasn‘t sure if he was good enough.

When they got out of the pool, the university photographer took a photo of them with their arms around each other’s shoulders. It apparently was a big deal because, Mike, had just set a pool record for the 200 and Parker (although not a record time) wasn’t far behind. As they walked by, they both waved to us as we cheered for the two of them.

Parker’s third and final heat of the day was as the backstroker of the B Relay Team. There were four relay teams from our school—Teams A through D. The custom is that A is the best team and then it goes in succession. Obviously, Mike was the backstroker for the A team. Fortunately, the A and B teams from our university did not face each other because they were the two anchor teams for separate relays. The A and C teams swam together and the B and D teams swam together vs. the other school’s relay teams.

As soon as I heard who was facing who in the relays, I said to nobody in particular, “Parker’s team is going to win their relay.” The other college was clearly overmatched all day, so this was almost a given. As his team came in first in their relay heat, there was once again pandemonium, mostly from us, in the stands. When the dust cleared, Parker had two firsts and a second in his first swim meet.

After his big day, Ginny wanted to take some photos of Parker in his warm-up suit to memorialize the moment. I signaled him from the stands, and he told us to meet him at the side entrance after the meet. Ginny, Helen, Joe, Marlene, Joanne, and I stuck around to congratulate Parker while his mom was getting ready to take some photos. We waited at the side entrance as he instructed.

Parker emerged and hugged his mother first, then over to Aunt Helen, then he went to shake Joe’s hand, but Joe grabbed him and gave him a bro hug and said, “Gee, I didn’t know we had a swimming star in our midst. You were awesome, man!” Then Parker gave me a big hug and kissed me on the lips.

“Geez, get a room you two!” Joe kidded. “Oh silly me, you already have a room.”

When Parker pulled his lips off mine, I pointed to the right by tilting my head. Parker looked over and there was Joanne and Marlene watching with curiosity. Parker looked at them then back at me. I stared at him blankly. “Aw, shit,” I heard him say under his breath. “Hey, we’re together in case you didn’t know,” Parker said turning to the girls and pointing at both of us.

“No we didn’t, but it’s cool with us,” Joanne said.

“Yeah totally,” Marlene agreed.

OK, if I could choose anyone on campus to tell aside from Joe, it would be Joanne and Marlene. They would frequently be labeled as lesbians by those who didn’t know any better, but they always took it in stride. When someone would tease her about being a lesbian, Joanne would say, “Really? Oh, I’ll be sure to tell my boyfriend.” So I knew they would be cool about me and Parker.

“We just keep it on the QT, so we don’t catch shit from big stupid rednecks,” I explained.

“What he means to say is to keep it to yourselves, you know?” Joe interceded.

“Oh sure, no problem!”

“Yeah, that’s fine!”

I looked over to Ginny and she nodded her approval.

“Well, are we going to get some pizza or what?” Parker asked. “I’m starving!”

X

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© 2014 Rip Skor
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Way to go, Parker! What a debut! And now the secret is seeping out. I guess it's only a matter of time, but they better start preparing.

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Hmm,i realy hope this is not heading to Parker getting a little distracted by his hugging team mate and causing a rift.I do believe i have already stated my total disgust with ANY form of cheating whatsoever.

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On 12/23/2016 08:45 AM, bubby1234 said:

Hmm,i realy hope this is not heading to Parker getting a little distracted by his hugging team mate and causing a rift.I do believe i have already stated my total disgust with ANY form of cheating whatsoever.

In many team sports, especially swimming, a lot of hugging goes on between team members. In baseball, you may get a pat on the fanny from a base coach when you get a nice hit. In wrestling, two guys basically molest each other for 15 minutes. If any of these scenarios can be construed as "cheating," then you are not well acquainted with team sports.

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Ah that kiss was to me, a warning sign as in the future that could lead to much worse... This chapter was great, really enjoyed reading about the swim meet.

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