Pocket Rocket

by Rodder52

 

Swim training at the pool this morning and Grant the new guy is there. Being his usual loudmouth Californian self. Don’t know why he rubs me the wrong way so much. K says I’m jealous but I don’t think so. I beat him by over ten minutes in the last two times out. He wins the swim but that’s his event – I always pick him up early in the bike and after that all he sees is my sweet white ass getting smaller and smaller.

     I do spend a lot of time thinking about him - I suppose it will be even more now.

     It’s obvious his weight routine’s not just for tri – he carries too much muscle bulk on his chest and shoulders and that’s for show. He’s sacrificing minutes just to look good.

     He’s a blonde-haired, body-shaved, short and muscular pocket rocket and he wears these little yellow speedos right up his crack like a lifesaver. Too much. He calls everyone “Dude”.

     This morning I’m watching from the side and he just pisses me off. He gets into the lane and swims so aggressively that everybody clears out. He passes right over the top of people and does these flamboyant tumble turns right in their faces. The young guys and the women just get intimidated and quit.

     I think, “Let’s see how you like it buddy.” I get into the lane, get the goggles on, hitch my speedo right up my bum and wait for him to come back.

     Just as he’s about to turn, I push off and my timing is perfect. He surfaces and my arse is right in his face. I feel his chin brush the back of my thighs. Yes! Eat that baby!

     Now it’s on. I’ve got no time to warm into the session because he’s swimming like a maniac to get over me. I’m going flat out from the get-go.

     He’s this good a swimmer though: by the time we get to the wall he’s pulled up level and we turn together. We surface and breathe on the side facing each other – my right, his left.

     We’re looking right into each other’s eyes. Oh yeah – she’s on all right!

     He’s such a good swimmer – on the next breath I’m looking into his chest, the next, his navel and the third, his cock. He’s got time to give it a little hip thrust. As his body rolls back, I break my stroke and give him a hard stinging slap on his bare buttock. He knows that was no accident but he swims on. I up my rate to stay with him.

     At the end of the second lap I’ve gained a little. I’m avoiding his kicking heels and looking right into his arse cheeks. There’s a bright red weal on the left one.

     I have to admit he’s got a really really nice bum.

     At the turn he flattens out on the tumble while I execute perfectly. I pull away from the wall in front of him. I’m celebrating this small victory when – wham! - a slap on the arse that really stings.

     He swims tucked right in behind me for the entire lap. I feel his right arm slide lightly over the back of my arse and thighs. I know his face is centimetres from my bare buttocks on every stroke. That arse in the face thing was supposed to be an insult.

     I realise I may have bitten off more than I can chew. I issued the challenge and he accepted. I have no choice but to continue. At the end of the lap he easily pulls past me. I swim that lap tucked into the back of his thighs. The smell of him is in my nostrils – chlorine and manliness. I’ve warmed up and swim easily. We’re travelling fast and synchronous.

     We reel off the laps in this way, pushing each other for primary position which we exchange at each turn. There is still a competitive edge to the swim but also a sense of cooperation.

     Around lap twenty a feeling of euphoria kicks in. It always does. But today I’m swimming way faster than ever before and I feel as if I’ve passed through to another plane. I could fly. Now I can easily pull up and swim beside him in the lane. On the breathing stroke our mouths are so close we are breathing each other’s breath. Then we roll our arms and our armpits meet and then, on the next breath, we’re face to face again - chest to chest - belly to belly.

     The strange thing about an endorphin high is the distortion of time. Although everything seems to go in slow motion, time passes very fast. Before I knew it we had done eighty laps and forty minutes. The realisation came to me that someone had to pull up so I fake a turn and stop. Grant continues up the pool, still in perfect form.

     The place is empty. All the cross-trainers have gone and it’s too early for the schoolkids. Even the lifeguards have left us to it. I wonder what they saw.

     As Grant comes slap-slapping back up the pool I experience a moment of doubt – what the hell was that all about anyway? When he reaches me he is exhilarated. He leaps up and chest butts me.

     “Dude that was fucking awesome!” he says. “Best training set I’ve ever done. Thanks dude!”

     He heads off to the showers and I swim a few warm-down laps just to let things settle. When I get to the dressing room he is out of the shower, fully naked and drying himself with this pathetic little athlete’s chamois. He eyes himself constantly in the mirror, giving himself angles and stances. I can’t blame him - he’s got a gorgeous body – completely hairless and a surprising thick, cut cock.

     I strip and give my own cock a tug just to get it looking good.

     I’m emboldened by the intimacy we’ve just shared and stare at him without any reserve. I know he sees me in the mirror and it gives me a thrill. I know he can see I’m hungry for him. My cock starts to swell and I give it another few strokes. He sees this and his eyes widen. I look him in the eye and my lust for him is palpable in the room. He lowers his eyes and I know he is mine.

     He stands unsure as I walk towards him. The top of his head only comes up to my chin so, when I embrace him, his head is nestled against my chest. This inspires a profound tenderness in me. I hold him lightly and explore the expanses of his skin. I stroke his bum. I cup his balls and feel the bounce of his extremely stiff cock. I cradle his face in my hands, look into his eyes and say, “I’m going to fuck you.”

     He is speechless. He leans back in my arms and parts his lips for a kiss.

     This is the guy who annoyed me the shit out of me just two hours ago! Now I want him more than anything in the world.

     He is absolutely quiet, soft and compliant. “Turn around, Lovely,” I say and he is melting. He turns and puts one foot up on the bench, bends and braces against the wall. I spit lube him and whisper loud and sexy in his ear, “You’re beautiful my love. I can’t wait to fuck your arse.”

     He whimpers assent and lets out a little groan as I get my cock in his bum. It takes a while to work him loose but I’m obsessed with kissing him and turn his head so I can crane over his shoulder and lick at the inside of his mouth. All the while I’m massaging his balls and stiff cock.

     When I get a long hard rhythm going in his arse his cock suddenly loses stiffness. What a shock! I’m fucking his arse, caressing his balls. He’s sucking my tongue and bucking back against me and his cock goes slack?

     “Don’t stop!” he says in a loud panicky voice. “Don’t stop!!”.

     Then his cock releases a big spurt of hot cum into my hand. Then another and another. I fuck my cock hard into his arse and wipe the handful of cum over our lips and face. Then I cum and cum as far up hi bum as I can. I lift him from the ground with my final thrust and collapse, spent, on his shoulder. As I go to withdraw my cock, he reaches round and holds me tight.

     “Not yet,” he says.

     We wait and when we’ve gathered our breath he expels my cock from his bum in a rush. Before I know what he’s doing, he spins around, crouches and takes it in his mouth. My cockhead is sensitive and I don’t really want this but I look down and see his face.

     He's in some private heaven.

     His eyes are glazed over.

     I relax and let him have it. He snuffles and grunts as he ardently worships my funky cock.

     When he’s done we just sit for maybe ten minutes until reality comes seeping back into our consciousness.

     He says, “Dude, I’m your boy now. I’ll do anything you want.”

     “Good,” I say, “Don’t call me Dude.”

 

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