Part 16 - Green
September
***
Trevor leisurely rubbed the bar of soap over his body, killing time. Three weeks into the semester he'd realized that if he lingered for a few extra minutes after practice the swimmers would file in for their turn at the showers. He preferred a more powerful build than a typical swimmer but still found a thrill in waiting and surreptitiously admiring both his fellow wrestlers and the members of the swim team. Two for the price of one.
It had taken him aback as he started the semester that he actually noticed the other guys. Sure, he'd often admired men's bodies in the past, respecting the work and effort they'd poured into forming and sculpting themselves. The events of the summer, though, had changed him fundamentally and after a week or so of fighting it he had decided to just embrace and enjoy this new aspect of himself. So, he admitted to himself that he actually found men attractive now; he'd even begun seeing them in his fantasies as he masturbated furiously in his efforts to sooth the pain of Travis' departure.
He hadn't had sex since that last night with his cousin. His old friends had all left town or elected not to start college, so he was essentially starting a social life from scratch with all the time and frustration that entailed. Melissa had helped him come into his own and made him more confident around women, but the stars hadn't aligned yet and his cock's only true friend remained Rosie Palm and her five fingers.
The trouble Trevor found with his new attraction to men, though, was the instinct to be painfully discreet. Some of them wouldn't react kindly to male admiration, let alone advances and he hadn't figured out how to spot like-minded men around him. If he were honest with himself, his nerves blocked him as well. Though he suspected that he wanted it to change, Travis was the only man he'd ever really had sex with, and he certainly wasn't the proponent in that relationship. He simply had no idea how to go about acting on this new aspect of his sexuality. Was he gay? He rejected that idea. He looked at women with just as much desire as he ever had.
Still, the fact that he could now look at men in that way as well broadened his horizons and he liked it. What was the harm if another guy happened to come along who wanted the same thing?
They had run couple minutes late he realized as several swimmers strode into the shower. Some nude, some choosing to shower in their Speedos, all lean and athletic and defined as they soaped the chlorine from their bodies and hair.
There he was, Trevor noted. Trevor had really spotted him for the first time yesterday. Not as muscular as Travis but more built than his teammates, body smooth and taut, hair tousled and light, that tan line where his Speedo would run if it were there framing trimmed pubes, a tight scrotum, and a delightfully lickable cut dick. Maybe an inch or two taller than Trevor, maybe a year or two older. His poise had been what had really caught Trevor's eye. Affable and smiling readily, he exuded confidence as his deep green eyes scanned the room observantly. The other men moved in some deference to him, as they would to a leader. He took up position directly across the room from Trevor and worked a liberal quantity of shampoo into his scalp.
Trevor felt his heart beat a little faster as that shot of adrenaline hit him. Just like yesterday. He tried to be surreptitious, but he couldn't help glancing over time and again as the other man's body twisted and the suds sagged in waves and rivulets over his skin.
Beautiful. The man could be a model. He had no fat on him, just that crease that ran in a v-shape to his groin. Powerful legs and a round ass. Arms that rippled, biceps that poked out as his elbows bent and his hands slid over his chest.
Trevor's eye had lingered and he suddenly realized that the man's eyes had locked onto him. The man grinned and winked.
Woah. Trevor turned and shut off the water as his face fushed. His cock twitched and expanded in spite of himself and he left the shower quickly, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist. What the hell just happened?
He dried and dressed quickly. Closing the locker, he turned and headed toward the exit. The man rounded the corner directly in front of him. He stopped Trevor with a palm to the chest, leaning in. "Stick around a little longer tomorrow," he said softly before continuing on.
Trevor's head swam as he walked like a zombie from the locker room.
***
"Trevor!" the coach barked as the rest of the team headed toward the locker room. "Stay put, I want to talk to you.
Damn it, Trevor thought. He sat on the bench and waited as the coach conducted some kind of huddle with the team captains. It had not been a comfortable twenty-four hours. He had been on pins and needles the whole time, his mind turbulent with anticipation, excitement, and trepidation. He'd barely slept, tossing and turning, trying to block out the images of the man in the shower. He had done pushups and sit-ups and jumping jacks and eventually jacked off; he finally fell asleep three hours before his alarm clock rang.
He had awoken groggy but immediately breathless, his mind instantly recalling the previous day's events. Listless all day, he had paid scant attention in class and just as little attention in practice as his clouded mind went over and over it. His obsession gripped him as much as it had about anything in his life, and even now his tired, sweaty body shook nervously. Nobody had ever had this effect on him before. He didn't understand it. Not even Melissa had made him feel like this, at least not to this extent, and he considered her one of the best things that had ever happened to him. Thinking about it didn't help him understand and as the day wore on a tinge of anger had mixed into the turmoil.
Needless to say, his preoccupation had not gone unnoticed. Evidently, the coach had a mind to tear him a new one. The random thought passed that maybe he'd enjoy having that one fucked.
The coach finished with the captains and called Trevor over. "You weren't with it today."
"Sorry, I didn't get much sleep."
"Tired doesn't cause all the mistakes you made. Look at me." Trevor met his stern gaze. "How many times did you place in high school?"
"I got third last year."
"Right. Third. In a piss-off meet. After four years of wrestling." Trevor's temper simmered; his eyes turned steely. "Let me ask you something. You ever want to be better than mediocre?"
Trevor held his retort in check. He swallowed. "Yes."
"Then you had better start focusing out here. You're not playing in the little leagues anymore. When you screw around like you did today all you do is drag the team down. Either you get serious or you get off the team. Got it?"
Serious? Trevor snapped back in his mind. Who fucking works their ass off in here more than me you mother-fucking two-bit small-time wannabe?
"Yes, sir." Seething, he turned for the locker room. This was that shower guy's fault, he determined. If he hadn't done that to me, hadn't touched me or winked at me or what the fuck ever then this wouldn't have happened.
Most of his team had deserted the shower and moved to drying and dressing. Trevor slammed his fist into the steel of the door of his locker then fiddled at the combination.
"You alright?" One of his teammates. Sophomore. Good guy.
"Yeah, just your standard level one ass-chewing," Trevor replied. He turned on his teammate. "You think I'm screwing around out there?"
The other man laughed as he tugged his shirt down over his torso. "You run rings around most of us at drills. It's pretty impressive."
Trevor felt a little better, but not enough. "That's not an answer."
The other man shrugged. "Look, you make rookie mistakes that you should've figured out in high school. But that's something you can work out if you pay attention. Let me tell you something about Coach." Trevor looked at him. "He picks on the ones with potential. If he's riding your ass, it's because he sees something there. He's trying to motivate you." Trevor stepped out of his singlet as the other man turned away. "Let him."
Hm. Trevor closed the locker and moved toward the shower, shampoo in hand, somewhat mollified but still angry. I'm not giving that damn swimmer the time of day. It's his fault, he thought as he stepped into the steamy room. I don't fucking need motivation. What I fucking need is to get laid. He grinned in spite of himself.
The suds from his hair splashed onto the floor as the swim team filed in, boisterous as ever. Amazingly, he'd actually calmed down, actually forgotten for a minute under the pounding heat of the water the nervousness he'd felt all day. It hit him harder than ever. Adrenaline seared through him and his heart pounded. I'm not going to look, he thought. I'm still pissed at him.
There he was. The man's eyes met his with a knowing smile as he walked to the shower directly across, soap in hand. Trevor's anger vaporized and he started shaking.
He couldn't keep his eyes off the man. And the man knew it. The swimmer showed off in a way that only somebody paying attention would notice. Instead of just rubbing soap over his arm, he flexed his bicep as he did so; instead of simply wiping the lather over his stomach, he twisted enough to reach his waist on the opposite side and flexed his abs and his ass. The man tortured Trevor and Trevor knew that he reveled in it. Trevor couldn't stop watching and he struggled furiously to keep his hard-on under control, with limited success.
Half a dozen of the swimmer's teammates still splashed in the shower. He looked directly at Trevor with a mischievous smirk and let the soap slide out of his hand with a dull plop. "He dropped the soap!" taunted a couple of swimmers. The man grinned and bent over, asshole pointed straight at Trevor; he lingered a second, just long enough to give Trevor a good eyeful as he twitched his anus.
That was it. Trevor popped a boner almost before he could turn his back to the last of the swim team. His face flushed; he could only hope none of them noticed. He glanced over his shoulder at his tormentor, who had a great view of Trevor's erect profile; the man smiled and grabbed his balls. Trevor, mortified but flattered by the attention, mouthed 'Bastard' at the swimmer; the other man’s smile broadened as he ran the soap across his chest yet again.
Trevor breathed a sigh of relief as the rest of the swimmers filed out; none seemed to notice this little drama between the two who remained.
The swimmer turned toward Trevor and rubbed his semi-hard dick. Wary of anyone entering the shower, Trevor kept his back toward the entrance as he soaped up his own cock, showing off in return, flexing his abs, playing with his balls as he watched the other man's cock grow.
The man's sexiness struck him again, his body quintessentially masculine - not in the burly sense but in the sense of perfect form. Trim, corded, and powerful but without overstated strength; clearly swimming was not the swimmer's only means of fitness. He moved easily, confidently, with an almost cat-like quality that betrayed agility and balance. It suddenly dawned on Trevor the power of physical attraction multiplied by the psychological; this man held both for him, and the wrestler finally began to see why he felt so drawn.
They masturbated slowly, watching each other; they appreciated the other's beauty for minutes as the din of boisterous athletes and slamming lockers faded. The swimmer caught Trevor's eye. He pointed to himself. -I- He formed his fingers into an 'O' and pumped his hand against his open mouth. -suck- He pointed at Trevor. 'you.' Trevor's head swam again and his lips parted in a goofy rictus. The swimmer turned off his shower and beckoned Trevor to follow.
Around the corner a large closet sunk into the tile wall; shelves from floor to ceiling filled with stacks of neatly folded towels lined two and a half walls. Against the fourth crouched a large rolling hamper where the day's students had tossed their used towels; the damp terry almost reached the top.
The door opened inward, a wedge holding it against the wall. The swimmer tossed Trevor a fresh towel and closed the door, jamming the wedge underneath it. He turned with a sardonic smile. "Now we've got some privacy. Feel better?" His voice rumbled in a mild baritone; somehow, Trevor had expected a lisp.
Trevor laughed. "Yeah, I do."
"Good. I'm Brandon."
"Trevor."
"Are you gay?"
That seemed kind of forward. It set Trevor back; he knew he wasn't, but he'd never been asked the question and he hadn't thought how he might respond. "Uh, not really."
"Not really? Just kind of?" Brandon prodded.
"I mean, I like girls..."
"So, you're straight?"
"Well..." Trevor was dumbfounded. Why? Why don't I know this? Haven't I figured it out yet?
Brandon laughed. "You'll figure it out. What I need to know now is if you want a blowjob."
Trevor grinned. Finally, a question he could answer! "Yes."
"Whew," Brandon said in mock relief as he grabbed a brace of towels from a shelf. "Glad we got that figured out." He dropped the towels to the floor at Trevor's feet and knelt on them. He eagerly gripped Trevor's shaft and admired his erection, sliding his foreskin back. "Nice cock," he said.
Trevor grinned, flattered again. Nice cock, and I'm drooling all over myself, he thought. Ridiculous. I'm like a teenager. "Thanks."
Brandon kissed the head and tickled the rim with his tongue; he grabbed Trevor's balls and gently plucked at them as his lips enveloped Trevor's shaft. He set a perfect rhythm - not too fast, not too slow, just the right speed to build that electrical pleasure without overwhelming. Melissa had given great head. Travis had given fantastic head. This was even better, Trevor realized as his eyes rolled back and he opened his mouth in a soft moan. "Oh, damn..." he breathed.
The minutes passed in delight as Brandon serviced Trevor. The swimmer alternated between sucking and jacking as his mouth played with Trevor's balls. He slid his other hand across Trevor's thigh or gripped his ass or snaked it onto Trevor's stomach. Trevor noted the cool as the swimmer's saliva evaporated from his scrotum; he noted the warmth as the swimmer's breath played over his skin.
"So, Trevor," Brandon said, looking up at him with a smirk, his hand stroking steadily. "What'll it take for me to get this thing up my ass?"
Trevor grinned. "I think we could do that."
Brandon stood. "Good." He nimbly scaled up the shelves until he could reach the back of the top one. He pulled down a baggie of condoms and a tube of lubricant.
Trevor chuckled. "You're prepared."
"I always keep these in here." He looked at Trevor. "You have no idea how many of the guys around here are perfectly happy to fuck a dude as long as nobody else knows about it." He tore open an appropriately-sized condom and reached down, working it expertly over Trevor's shaft; he lubed it with equal aplomb. Almost professionally, he turned and leaned, gripping the edge of the hamper.
Trevor grinned. Brandon was so nonchalant about it. "So you just want me to fuck you?"
"Naw, I thought we could play a game of Scrabble first."
Trevor laughed. Sarcastic. He liked that. He sidled up behind Brandon and aimed his cockhead; he pressed, burying it until his hips pressed against Brandon's ass. Brandon pushed back against him; he wiggled his waist with a sigh of contentment. "Ah, yeah, that's a nice cock."
Trevor rested his hands on Brandon's waist and established a gentle rhythm. The feel of the swimmer's asshole around his cock, the texture of the man's skin in his hands and against his thighs, the manly grunts, they reminded Trevor of the summer, of all those times he'd fucked Travis; he smiled and increased the pace to the sound of Brandon's approving moan.
After a moment, Brandon turned his head. "I like it hard." Trevor grinned in response and tore into him, their bodies slapping together with each thrust, Trevor's hands finding their way to Brandon's shoulders.
Brandon moved forward as they fucked; soon, his face pressed into the dirty towels as Trevor leaned over his back, pushing him down. "Oh, yeah," he chanted as Trevor grunted, his face contorted in that particular pleasure-pain of anal ravaging, his voice muffled by the cotton terry.
After a few moments, Brandon clambered into the hamper and laid on his back, lifting his legs invitingly. Trevor followed, crouching down and angling into the swimmer's body as Brandon's hand found his flopping cock. The pounding pushed Brandon further; within minutes his head had fallen into a corner and his ass rose into the air as Trevor followed him and rammed his cock home in a pile drive, their breathing ragged and their grunts manly and mingling.
Suddenly Trevor froze as someone worked at the handle of the door. "Hey!" came a voice with a thick Asian accent, "Open door!"
"Who is that?" Trevor almost choked.
Brandon laughed. "He's here for the towels." He raised his voice. "I told you last time, if I'm busy in here, you have to come back later!"
"Dirty boys! Do dirty things at home! I try to make living!"
Trevor choked, struggling not to bust up. "Mop the floor then!" Brandon called. "We'll be done in a few minutes."
They heard a stream of obvious obscenity in some foreign language and they laughed. "He told you," said Trevor.
"Yeah, he did." Trevor's cock had slid out; Brandon gripped it and guided it back into his waiting asshole. "Fuck, yeah," he breathed as Trevor resumed his aggressive pace and Brandon's hand slid across his own shaft.
In moments, that familiar fire built in Trevor's groin. "I'm cumming."
"On my balls," directed Brandon. Obliging, Trevor withdrew and tore the condom off his cock; he almost didn't make it in time. Before the rubber had hit the floor, his first spurt of cum landed on Brandon's thigh. He managed to aim it in time for the rest and his load hosed out, the result of his pent-up sexual frustration. The relief swept sweet and deep as semen drained from his body. It dribbled off Brandon's balls and oozed up his abs; Brandon recovered what he could with his spare hand and applied it to his cock, using the fresh lube to work over the head. His stomach tightened and he grunted. Trevor watched his face; their eyes met as the cum splashed onto Brandon's neck and chin. Filled with pleasure and release, yes, but those green eyes still retained their control, their calm, their confidence as they drilled into Trevor; they drew Trevor in, intrigued and enthralled him and they connected in a way that could almost be described as mentally orgasmic, feeding off the intensity that each found in the other.
Finally, the connection broke as Brandon unfolded himself and heaved his body up out of the corner of the hamper. He swung his legs over the side and Trevor joined him on the cool tile as he grabbed one of the used towels and wiped the cum from himself. "You know," Brandon said as he tossed the towel back into the hamper and turned to look at Trevor with that confident gaze. “Most of the guys I do this with want to pretend it never happened. Is that what you want?”
Trevor raised his eyebrows. The thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “No.”
“Good, let’s get our phone numbers from each other.”
They wrapped fresh towels around their waists and smiled as they walked into the locker room under the withering glower of the middle-aged Asian janitor leaning on his mop.
