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My swim coach was HOT. I mean he was trim and firm, clearly worked out but still had that ‘swimmer build’ and sported a pair of speedos like a God. Green eyes, a soft curl to his hair when it was dry and a mix of dark and light shades throughout. Maybe he had some skin troubles in his youth, but the scars made his face all the more attractive. As a teen, I had so many stroke fantasies about him I can’t remember how many tissue filled wads were his fault!
I graduated and went to college, not really knowing what it was I was doing and ended up with a double major in physio and education. No idea what I was going to do with it and then just put my CV out there. Got a few offers and then, boom… My own school invited me for an interview. Physio, functional movement coach and teacher required – all in one. Teaching PE and swimming and working with the lads to ensure their safety when playing sport.
I was nervous for the post, but got it. I was stoked.
Day one, I got there and there were a lot of my old coaches and teachers. It was a bit weird for a few weeks but fell into a rhythm. Working with the lads, coaching swimming, basketball and rugby. Injury management and educating the lads how not to get injured. It was a great year – but kept mostly to myself.
After the first term, it was winter break. I didn’t have anywhere to go so stayed on campus. Did laps, trained in the gym and generally hung out. It was cold and the best place to be was the pool. Indoor, heated and there was a sauna and steam for the staff, so couldn’t really say no when there was 6ft of snow outside.
I was swimming when I heard the door to the pool slam. After 2 weeks of no one, it came as a shock. I stopped swimming, surfaced and looked around. Things were kinda blurry as I didn’t wear goggles and just saw a figure walking alongside the pool.
Wiping away the chlorine, the figure walked along the pool edge and squat down, holding a hand out to me to haul me out. I gladly obliged and (kinda coolly) anchored my foot on the drain so I came up standing…. Not like landing a salmon and flopping around.
‘Mike?’, a male voice asked
I was a bit astounded and still not quite seeing anything more than an image of a man, but knew that voice.
‘Mr P?’
‘Mike, you’re working here now so you can call me Twiz’
Mr P was his name because it was Paul and his last name was…. I don’t know…. Twizzle or something like that. He used to own pubs and stuff and we all knew his nick name was Twiz, but no one every dared to use it.
‘Um, OK, Twiz… it’s been a few weeks without a sole on campus and I was surprised to hear the door go. School doesn’t start for a few weeks yet. Whatcha doing here?’
‘Um, I was out driving and got caught in the snow. The motor gave out and figured that this was the closest place for refuge. And, it’s warm’.
I looked down at me in a speedo and him in his all his clothes and must have looked a bit shy.
Twiz laughed. ‘Don’t worry, I think I have a spare speedo or two in my office – the warm water will do me good after a hike in the snow…. Anyway – I slipped and fell on my shoulder. It needs warming up’, he said casually as he headed off in the direction of his office and rolling his shoulder.
I got back in the water. Head reeling. My coach was going to come and swim in the pool with me? In speedos? Alone?
I could hardly keep my cock inside my speedo and had to concentrate really hard on my swimming. Just doing laps. Like before. One end to the other….. the firmness subsided. Only just in time as I heard a loud splash and another swimmer entering the water. Mr. P… I mean, Twiz.
I played it cool and kept swimming and he did too. Lazy laps up and down and stopping at the end every so often for some casual conversation. He had a cheeky grin on him – he always did, but maybe that was just me.
It came time to haul myself out. I was tired and sore from the laps and needed a shower. So, like usual, muscle or mind memory sent me on the usual path towards the lad’s locker room. I felt a hand on my shoulder as I headed in that direction and stopped, turned and it was Mr P. Twiz looked at me quizzically.
‘You’re staff now Mike, the staff shower room is this way’, and promptly headed off.
I woke from my revery and wandered tiredly after him. Not really thinking, just doing.
There was a smaller shower room with about 6 nozzles towards the back of the office. And, there was one already working – steam flowing out of the door and misting up the room. I entered and focused around to find my own. Pressing the valve on the wall, it sent a warm jet of water over me and I just stood there, hand on wall for a moment letting it flow over me.
‘You OK?’ I heard.
Twiz.
‘Yeah – maybe just over did it a bit’
He slapped me on the shoulder and said ‘here, try this’ and thrust something in my hand.
Oil?
But not just oil, but Twiz standing there butt naked. BUTT NAKED.
I didn’t know what to do with myself. I figured it best to look at the oil – yes, the oil.
‘Um… oil?’ I said stupidly.
‘Yeah – it’s like supercharged with ginger and chili or something. Does wonders for sore muscles. Where does it hurt?’
‘Um… here….’ Pointing at my pecs. Stupid, stupid move. Nice one Mike. You pointed at your chest in front of a fully naked man. Naked. Man.
The water cut out behind me and I didn’t think about it but reached back and turned it back on. The warm flow spraying over me and then into his eyes.
‘Oh, Mr P. I mean Twiz, I am so sorry’
Twiz cleared his eyes and smirked. ‘It’s OK’ and opened the oil bottle. ‘Here’ he said has he shook some out in his hand and reached forward. Dazed, I just stood there. I allowed him to rub the oil on my chest. Kind of roughly, pushing me back a bit but I kept my footing.
‘Now me’ he said and turned. I got to look at his fine, naked ass but then saw the developing bruise on his left shoulder blade.
‘Owch’ I said as I slowly rubbed on the oil.
‘Yeah, fell pretty bad’ he said ‘what’s it look like?’
‘Hmmmm… kinda bruised’
‘Feeling it up here’ Twiz said and tapped his shoulder, up near his neck.
Twiz grunted a bit as I rubbed the oil in and backed up a bit, and a bit more. His ass was now touching my cock in my speedos.
‘You know you don’t need to wear them in here’ he said.
I gulped and looked down.
‘Here’ he said and turned around. ‘Let me help you’ and reached forward and pulled the top of my speedo open. He reached in and grabbed the string, unknotting it in one deft move. He then just looked at me expectantly. So, keeping eye contact with him, lowered my speedo.
He looked down at my bouncing cock and then again into my eyes with a smirk.
‘Nice’ was all he said.
‘Can you feel the heat of the oil?’ he asked
Suddenly, my chest seemed on fire but was not aware of it until that moment. I figure that he spotted my realization and reached for the shower gel.
‘I guess so eh?’ he said ‘I forgot to tell you, you need to wash it off after a few minutes or else it really burns’ and squirted my chest with some shower gel. Again, he stepped forward and pushed me back against the wall of the shower room, massaging my chest and getting rid of the oil.
As hie did, his cock was swaying to and fro and slapped against my own.
Smirking, without missing a beat in soaping up my chest, he just said ‘oops’ and kept going.
‘Oh c’mon Mike’ Twiz said as the soap suds slipped down my chest and he slowed down washing my chest to washing my abs and then slightly grazed my pubes…. My cock (as was his) was growing. ‘You know this is what you have been waiting for, for a while now eh?’
My head was swimming. I was in heaven. Mr P, now Twiz was about to stroke my cock. Mine was rock hard and his was slapping against it. I was about to cum there and then…. Then he slid his hand down my abs and slipped below my hard cock to my ball sack and just soaped it up for a while.
I tentatively reached out and grabbed his cock. It was as thick as my wrist and uncut. I was memorized, sliding that foreskin up and down while he lightly squeezed my balls……
Email me feasybuddy@yahoo.com, because I just blew my own load writing that!