Part 11
I return to the office after my lunch break is over and sit down next to Kathy. “Steve told me everything. Thanks for speaking up for me and defending Steve.”
She smiles. “Of course, darlin’. I’ve got your back. People like Ryan have no business bringing in that kind of hateful attitude toward anyone, especially the people I work with.” She lowers her voice. “To tell you the truth, he’s always been a bit of a prick. You even heard how he spoke to me. Well, I about had it with him. It was just going to get worse and worse unless someone did something about it.”
“Well, I really appreciate your doing what you did. Hopefully he learned his lesson.”
She laughs. “We’ll see. There are certainly lots more where he came from.”
* * * * *
When the clock strikes five, Steve and the rest of the lifeguards close the pool, and we get everyone out and on their way home. I say goodbye to Kathy when she leaves.
Once again, just Steve and I are here on our own. He pops back into the office. “Ready to get started?”
“Yep, I just have to change into my swimsuit.” I stand up. “What do you have planned tonight for our lesson?”
“Well, if you’re up for it, we can try swimming freestyle, but in a deeper part of the pool—the same place where we set up the racing lanes. I noticed last time you got a little out of breath when you swam across. That’s totally normal, but the more you swim, the easier it’ll be, and the longer you’ll be able to go.”
I shrug. “I guess that sounds fine.”
“Awesome.” He rummages through his bag and takes out his Speedo. “Well, in that case, I should wear this.”
I follow him out of the office and to the changing room. “Why’s that?”
He holds his swimsuit up. “Well, for one, it’s a lot less baggy than my guard shorts. That makes it much easier to maneuver in the water.”
I start taking off my shirt. “Ah, so it is true what I heard about them.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, they’re not just for show! Wearing baggy shorts like yours can slow you down with all the extra material.”
I look over at him as we finish stripping down and putting on our swimsuits. “Do you think I should get one?”
He stretches out the waistband of his swimsuit with his thumbs and lets go, making a loud snapping sound. “Probably. As I teach you more strokes and we do more swimming across the pool, you’d benefit from wearing one.”
I tie my drawstring. “Hmm. I’ll have to go shopping for one, then.”
We head back out to the pool and walk to the middle of it, where it’s about six feet deep. He points down to the water. “This spot is good. Let’s get in.” We do so, and I hang onto the side while I adjust to the temperature of the water. He goes on, “I know it’s a bit deeper here, but I want you to get used to not being able to touch the bottom. I’ll be right next to you. I won’t go too far ahead of where you are. If you need to stop, just orient yourself upright and tread water, and I’ll get you to the side. OK?”
I nod. “Got it.”
“All right. As soon as you’re ready, kick off the wall and start swimming. I’ll follow right beside you.”
I take a few short breaths, then one deep breath, dip my face under the water, and push myself off the wall and get myself going. I don’t move nearly as fast as Steve does in the water, but I’m learning. As I swim, I keep my eyes open underwater, and every time I look to my left, I see him right beside me, and it’s hard not to focus on the bulge that his cock and balls are making in his Speedo. I don’t feel too scared not being able to touch the bottom, as long as he’s right there and able to help out if needed.
We reach the other side, and I grab onto the wall and take a quick break. He does the same right beside me. “Nice job, Joey. Every time we get to the side, I want you to think about if you have enough energy to make it across again, and if you do, go for it. If you feel like you need to stop at the side of the pool for a bit, do that, too.”
I exhale and take a deep breath. “I think I have enough to get to the other side.”
“All right, well, as soon as you’re ready, let’s go across again.”
I dip down and kick off to get going once more. With Steve now to the right of me, I begin another journey across the pool. Once I get to the other side, feeling like I can go across at least a few more times, I take no break, turn right around, and go across again. The whole time, Steve stays by my side. I guess it’s easy for him to do that, since he races every two weeks.
I’m able to make it across three more times, ending up on the opposite side of the pool from where we started. After finally getting across for the final time, I grab onto the side and try to catch my breath. “I think that’s all I can manage for now.”
He smiles. “That’s fine. The more you practice, the better you’ll be.”
My panting turns into more controlled breathing. “How did I do?”
“You were fine! You’re moving through the water great. Let’s go ahead and hop out whenever you’re ready.”
After a few seconds, I start pulling myself out of the water, and Steve follows. I turn to him. “So now that I can make it across a few times, what’s next?”
“Well, at this point, once my students can make it across without having to stop to take a break in the middle, I like moving them into deeper waters.”
“The deep end?”
“Yep. It’s a survival thing.” He points down at the pool floor. “See, here you’ve got nice little black lines to guide you to the other side and keep you on track. In the deep end, and out in open water—no such lines. So I like to have my students jump off the diving board into the deep end, float back up to the top, get themselves oriented, and swim to the edge.”
I can feel my heart start to beat faster. “That sounds kind of scary.”
“Everything sounds a bit scary before you actually do it, then it’s not so bad.”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
He chuckles. “If you don’t feel ready to, I’m not going to push you off the diving board or anything, so we’ll do it whenever you feel ready, never earlier.”
“Good. That makes me feel more in control.”
“You
are in control, Joey.” He checks the clock up on the wall. “Maybe we’ll save that for the next lesson. For now, we should get going.”
We walk back to the showers, rinse off, and get dressed in our street clothes. We step outside, the door closing and locking behind us. I turn to him. “I’ll text you tomorrow once I’m off work before I head over.”
“Awesome! That can’t come soon enough. Hopefully I won’t have died from boredom by then.”
I laugh. “I think you’ll be fine.”
Our time together comes to an end once again as we head to our respective cars and drive home. I’m really starting to enjoy our lessons and spending more time with him overall, and I’m excited to hang out with him some more after work tomorrow.
* * * * *
I get home from work the next day around mid-afternoon and shower off all the grit and grime from my job. I get dressed and text Steve,
Ready for me to head over? Seconds later, he texts back,
Sure bud, drop by anytime. Minutes later I get in my car and drive over to his apartment and park in one of the visitor spots. After locating his building, I walk up to his front door and knock.
He opens the door, wearing a black tank top and gray sweatpants. “Hey, bud! Find the place OK?”
“Yeah, it wasn’t too hard to find.”
He steps back. “Awesome. Come on in.” I do so, and he closes the door behind me. “My place isn’t much to write home about. Nothing too fancy, just a one-bedroom apartment.”
“Hey, at least your air conditioner works.” I turn around and see the poster of Michael Phelps next to the front door and chuckle a bit. “I forgot about that poster!”
He laughs. “What can I say? He’s my idol.”
I turn back around. “With all those medals draped around his neck, I can see why!”
He shakes his head and smiles sheepishly, slightly embarrassed. “You want something to drink?”
“Whatcha got?”
We start walking to the kitchen, and he rattles off a few choices. “Water, of course, lemonade, Coke…” We reach the kitchen, which is sparsely furnished with just a tall dining table and two barstools across from one another, along with the usual appliances, of course. He opens the fridge and shifts some stuff around. “Oh, and beer.”
I peer into his fridge. “Ooh, you’ve got the good stuff.”
He chuckles. “You want a beer?”
“Sure, why not? I don’t care if it’s a bit early, I’m done with work for the day.”
He grabs one and twists the cap off with his hand, then hands it to me. “Here you go, bud.”
“Thanks.” I take a swig. “Damn, this is good!”
He smiles. “Well, if you think so, I should have one, too.” He bends over and grabs another one, closes the fridge, then pops off the cap and takes a sip, letting out a satisfying
ahh.
I lean my elbow on the counter. “I’m glad to see that you haven’t died of boredom.”
He throws his head back and smiles. “I
almost did! I honestly had no idea how much time I was pouring into work and training at the pool.”
I shrug. “Well, sometimes it’s good to take a break every now and then.”
“Yeah. I’m just happy to get things back to normal tomorrow.” We both take another swig of our beers, then he continues, “So, what do you want to do? Watch a movie? Play a game?”
“What do you have in the way of games?”
“I got the new Nintendo system. We can do some Mario Kart.”
“I haven’t played in a while, but back in the day, I kicked lots of ass and left my friends in the dust.”
He cocks his head to the side but maintains eye contact, raising his eyebrows. “Is that a challenge?”
“You’re damn right!”
“Sweet! Been looking for someone to play against.” We move back to the living room and set our beers on the coffee table. He turns on the TV and grabs two game controllers, handing one to me, and we sit on the couch, him to the left. “Now, I know you haven’t played in a while, so do you want me to go easy on you?”
I scoff. “Hell no. I might be a little rusty, but I’ll get my groove back, you’ll see.”
His tone turns sarcastic. “Yeah, we’ll see all right.” He starts up the game and chooses to play in two-player mode. “Which character are you going to pick?”
“Whoa, there’s a lot more here than in the last one I played.” I think for a few seconds. “Guess I’ll pick Donkey Kong. What about you?”
“I always go with Wario. Since he’s a heavy character, he has a higher top speed.”
“Guess it’s a good thing I picked
Damien Kyle then, huh?”
“Yep.” We move on to choose our vehicles, with me picking a standard kart and him picking a racing bike. He continues, “Now, how fast should we go?”
I open my eyes wide. “Is that 200 CC?”
He looks over at me. “Wow, it
has been a long time since you’ve played.”
“I told you.”
He chuckles and turns his attention back to the TV. “OK, we’ll go with 150 CC.”
Soon, the first race begins, and the interactions between us drop off as we concentrate on driving our animated characters around the racetrack. He’s the first to pass the finish line, while I come in fifth.
He gently squeezes my shoulder. “Not bad.”
“Psh. We’re just getting started.”
The second race is a bit better. He still comes in first, but I at least come in third. For the next race, I get even better, finishing in second.
He takes a swig of his beer. “Ready for the last race?”
“You know I am.”
The last race begins, and it’s off to a great start. I’m in the lead for about the first half, then get passed by him. I’m trailing just behind for most of the third lap, then get a red shell item, throw it at him, and make him spin out. “Bitch!” he shouts, and I follow with sadistic laughter. I take the lead once more right as the finish line comes into view, and finally edge out a win.
I put my controller down and wait until he crosses the finish line, coming in second. He turns and looks at me, and I shrug. “What?”
His sneer turns into a smile. “Good job on that last race, bud.”
I give my best smug expression. “Thanks!”
“But I still won overall.”
I don’t need to look at the results to know that. “Want to do another one?”
“Of course, you know it!”
He picks his controller back up. “OK, you pick the cup this time.”
I choose the Banana Cup, which has a few of the tracks I remember playing in the older game, and we play our next four races. I do better this time, finishing second overall, but he still comes in first. I slap my knee. “Damn, I thought I had you that time.”
“You’re getting closer! You have me worried.”
“Good! Just where I want you.”
He chuckles. “I’m feeling a little hungry. How about you?”
I rub my stomach. “Yeah, it’s been a while since lunch.”
He taps a finger on his chin a few times. “I have a pizza in the freezer. Want to play another round while it heats up?”
“Yeah, that’s a great idea.”
He gets up. “Cool, I’ll be right back.” He runs off to the kitchen, and I hear him open and close the freezer door, then start preheating the oven. He comes back, and I swear he’s freeballing since the outline of his dick is very obvious. He sits down on the couch and picks his controller back up. “All right, we should be able to get through two races by the time the oven preheats.”
“Let’s not waste time, then!”
“All right, time to step it up.” He chooses one of the later, harder cups. These courses are for sure more difficult than the ones we just played. We both fall off the course a few times and get hit more often by the other players’ items. We don’t even come in first place on the first two courses. Just as we finish the second one, the oven beeps, indicating it’s done preheating. He gets up and runs to the kitchen to put the pizza in the oven, then runs back, picks up his controller, and starts the third race. We start doing better as we finish out the rest of the cup. The results pop up on the screen, and I end up taking first and beating him by one point. His eyes widen in surprise. “Damn, that was close!”
I take a congratulatory swig of my beer, finishing it off. “Didn’t think I’d inch ahead of you, did you?”
He shrugs. “Well, I always knew it was possible. Nicely done!” He turns off the game console and TV, and we move to the kitchen. I sit on one of the barstools while he peers into the oven. “Pizza’s still got a few minutes left. Want another beer?”
“Yes, please!”
He takes two more beers from the fridge—one for me, and one for him—and pops the caps off, handing one to me. “Congratulations on your win.” We clink bottles and I thank him as we take swigs from our freshly-opened bottles. He speaks up again, “So how’s it like being back home in Savannah?”
I shrug. “Not much has changed, really, in the past six years. It’s been all right so far. I lost touch with just about everybody after I moved away, but luckily I reconnected with a buddy of mine who let me crash on his couch for a little bit until I got my own place. At least there was that one bright moment in the whole getting-laid-off-and-having-to-move-back-home situation.”
“Yikes, that must’ve been rough.”
“It wasn’t too bad. The couch was pretty comfortable, actually.”
He laughs. “No, I mean getting laid off.”
“Yeah, rough’s one way of putting it. That’s actually part of why I want to open my own business. I’m tired of not being in real control of my own future, you know?”
The oven beeps, and he walks over to it and takes out the pizza. “I know what you mean. Luckily with my guarding job, I’ve moved up quite a bit and am making decent money, but there’s always the chance something could happen, and I’d be out of the job.” He takes a pizza slicer from the drawer and cuts the pizza into eight slices. He grabs two plates, handing me one, and we each serve ourselves, taking just two slices each for now, and sitting back down on the couch in the living room.
I take a bite into the pizza. “Damn, this is delicious!”
He smiles after swallowing his first bite. “It is, isn’t it? I only get the best frozen pizza.”
I shake my head. “I never knew it could taste this good.” I take a few more bites, then continue, “So, other than the lifeguard job, how have you been faring over these past six years?”
“Oh, pretty good, nothing too special. Trips with family and such, and lots of spring break and Labor Day trips with friends.”
“Friends like Ryan?”
“Yeah, at the time, but that’ll probably never happen again.”
“You know, I remember you saying after the meet last Saturday that Ryan and the rest of the group made fun of you when you first started hanging out with them.”
“That’s right.”
“Why would you hang out with guys like that if they made fun of you at first?”
He shrugs. “I just wanted to fit in, you know? I was into sports, just like them, and we all swam, ran track, and did other stuff together, so we already had things in common. Eventually they stopped making fun of me and moved on to other people, and I was
in. I guess I had paid my price to get in, so I didn’t want to just throw that away. Does that make sense?”
I tilt my head. “Well, when you put it that way, yeah, it kinda does. But what in the hell did they make fun of you for?”
He looks away and starts blushing. “Oh, that…”
“What?”
“You don’t want to hear about that.”
“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad.”
He hesitates for a second. “Want some more pizza?” I nod, and we get up and head to the kitchen to serve ourselves the remaining slices of pizza. I sit on the barstool while he remains standing by the oven. He takes a bite, then speaks up again, “They made fun of me for being uncircumcised.”
I drop the slice of pizza I’m holding onto the plate and look at him in disbelief, and try to feign ignorance. “You’re uncut?”
He scoffs and shakes his head. “Come on, Joey, don’t play dumb. I know you’ve checked it out when we’ve showered after swimming.”
I narrow my eyes. “How can you be so sure that I did?”
“Well, Ryan and the gang made fun of me for it back then, so at least one of
them had to have gotten a glance, and they’re all straight—supposedly—so I
know you’ve given it a gander. I’m not stupid.”
I shrug. “Ugh, I guess you got me there.” I take another bite of pizza. “Still, though, that’s an extremely stupid thing to make fun of you for.”
“It didn’t matter
what they made fun of me for, it just had to be something different between me and them. Just like with you being gay. That was a difference between you and them. And they took advantage of that.”
“Fuck, you hung around some huge assholes in high school.”
He rolls his eyes. “Tell me about it.”
“So, can I ask you a, uh, personal question?”
He moves his eyes down to his crotch, then back up at me. “About my dick?”
I feel myself beginning to blush, but push past the uncomfortableness. “Why is it uncut? Like, what were the reasons?”
“Well, my parents elected to skip the circumcision because they believed that, in this modern day-and-age, there’s no real medical reason to just routinely get it done. It’s really that simple. It helps that one of them is a urologist, too, because from what I heard, the delivery doctors really pushed for it, until they heard the arguments against it.”
“Awesome! Luckily your dad knew enough about dicks to talk them straight.”
“Actually, my mom’s the urologist.”
I move my head back in surprise. “Oh. Sorry.”
He chuckles. “It still made things a bit awkward with Dad, though. He had to be the one to teach me how to keep it clean and take care of it, and it was a bit of a challenge for him since he has no foreskin.”
I look at him confused. “What is it you have to do special to keep it clean?”
“It’s not too difficult.” He finishes off the last bite of his pizza, then reaches back and sets his empty plate on the counter behind him, brushes his hand against his sweatpants to wipe off the crumbs from the pizza, and, to my surprise, yanks down the waistband of his sweatpants, revealing his uncut cock, plus the fact that he hasn’t been wearing underwear this whole time. He grabs the tip of his foreskin and gently tugs on it. “This little flap of skin is the only real difference between your dick and mine.” He pulls it back until the head of his penis is exposed. “Just gotta do that each time in the shower and wash it clean. It usually never gets dirty though if you do it regularly.” He slides his foreskin back down, covering the head, then brings the waistband of his sweatpants back up to where it was just seconds ago.
I drop my plate on my lap to cover my growing boner and hope it’s not too obvious. After I get past the shock of seeing him unexpectedly whip out his dick right in front of me—an occurrence I am absolutely not complaining about—I gather the ability to speak. “Are you happy with the decision your parents made?”
“Other than Ryan and the gang making fun of me for it, I have no complaints. They were just jealous, anyway. And all of the girls I’ve been with haven’t ever had a problem with it.”
I shake my head. “That’s crazy. I’ve been with a lot of guys—well, not a lot, but you know what I mean—and not one of them has been uncut.”
“It’s unusual for guys in this country to still have their foreskin. It’s a lot more common everywhere else.”
“Why do we do it here, then?”
“Tradition. Lots of guys here are cut, so when they have sons, they just keep the tradition going.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s so dumb—even if what you say is the case, that most of the time it’s not medically necessary, it’s dumb for people to keep the cycle going.” I shake my head. “I wish my parents didn’t decide to whack off part of my penis.”
“Hey, be happy with what you have. It’s impossible to get it put back on, anyway.”
I smile. “Yeah, you’re right.” I take another bite of my pizza. “How did you come to know all this stuff?”
He chuckles. “I know
a lot about dicks, a lot more than I care to let on sometimes. I blame my mother.” We both laugh.
I finish eating, stand up, and put my plate in the sink. “Thanks for the pizza. It was good!”
“No problem, bud. I’m glad you liked it.”
I stretch my arms. “I should probably get going. I have to take care of some things at home, then be up bright and early for work tomorrow.”
“All right, it’s been fun. Thanks for coming over.”
“Thanks for having me! We should do this again sometime.”
“Totally. I’m down for that.”
“All right, Steve, see you later.”
It’s dark outside as he opens the door and we say goodbye to one another. I step out and start walking to my car. I twist around and give him a wave.
As soon as I get in my car, I close my eyes and picture Steve pulling down the waistband of his sweatpants and playing with the foreskin of his dick just as I witnessed him do minutes ago. I open my eyes and glance down at my crotch as my dick grows bigger and bigger. I definitely can’t drive home like this.
I unbuckle my belt, unbutton and unzip my jeans, and slide them down along with my boxers just low enough so my dick springs right up to attention. I spit into my hand and begin working my meat, then close my eyes again and imagine Steve standing in the kitchen, sweatpants pushed down to his ankles, wearing that black tank top, and fondling his foreskin, tugging at it and pulling it back, and I imagine what his dick looks like when it’s fully erect. Gosh, I wonder how it would feel to have one just like his.
A person knocks at the window and I react quickly, pulling my shirt over my boner. It’s late enough, and this parking lot isn’t very well-lit, so hopefully whoever’s there didn’t see much of anything. I glance up and make out that the person is actually Steve. I put my key into the ignition and roll down the window. He reaches inside, my wallet in his hand. “You forgot this.”
I breathe a sigh of relief as I take my wallet from him. “Oh good, wouldn’t want to get pulled over without having that. Thanks.”
“No problem, bud. Drive safely, and see you back at the pool.”
I roll the window back up as he walks back to his apartment. My heart’s racing so much from the shock of almost getting caught that my boner has completely deflated. Oh well, one way or another, I guess I was able to take care of it. I button my pants back up, then start the engine and drive home, heading to bed as soon as I get there, too tired to continue what I started and what was interrupted back at Steve’s.
