The Chronicles of Lars

The Chronicles of Lars Ch. 01

His passion for travel and adventure takes flight

This is the first in a series about the coming of age for a young man from Minnesota and how it ignites a lifelong craving for travel and adventure. All characters are over the age of 18 years old

***

My name is Lars and I have a few confessions to make but I'll get to all that. I grew up in a big family in a small town in northern Minnesota. The summers were short and the winters brutal but we were always outside playing sports of all kinds regardless of the season or weather. I was an up and coming speed skater and showed good promise at the junior national level until some idiot lost control during a race and collided with me, slicing a tendon in my leg and putting my budding career on ice for good.

As part of my physical therapy to regain strength and flexibility, I soon found myself in the swimming pool four days a week doing various exercises, swimming laps and even playing some water polo. It was during this time that I discovered a few things about myself. Even though I was in middle school, I'd decided I wanted to go to college and become a physical therapist. I was also taken by water sports in general because I enjoyed looking at all the guys in their tight little Speedos.

I was especially attracted to the divers with their muscular legs and cut bodies. I would watch as they executed what I thought were perfect dives as they sliced through the water's surface and then would emerge from the pool dripping wet, their junk sometimes quite visible through their translucent suits. Seeing them always seemed to give me a woody.

I used to secretly rummage through my older sister's room to borrow some silk panties when I discovered her not-so-hidden vibrator. That little hummer was about nine inches long and plenty thick. When she wasn't around, I learned to take it in my mouth and suck on it. I even tried it in my butt, and after a while, I found that I was pretty good at taking the full length of it in both places. I'm pretty sure I knew I was gay even then, although I certainly wasn't

out

in any sense since that was strictly taboo in the town where I came from.

The first time I tasted another guy's dick was in high school. My brother had brought one of his Nordic ski teammates home from college to stay with us for the summer so they could train together during their off season. Sven was a handsome and powerfully built Swede whose legs looked like they were carved from marble and belonged on a statue in a Greek temple. When they weren't running long distances, he would hang around the house wearing very tight gym shorts that always seemed to be accentuating an impressive bulge inside.

In the evenings around dusk when the insects weren't so pesky, Sven would often leave the house and disappear into the thick woods around our property to go for walks by himself. He said the forest reminded him of the land where he was from and it was a way for him to clear his head and think about home. I thought he was just really homesick but I soon discovered another reason for his solitary sojourns.

One night I decided to follow him as he left on one of his walks. About a half mile down the trail the woods opened into a broad meadow and one of the many small lakes in the area. I knew the place well because that's where me and my friends would go exploring and skinny-dip on hot summer days when I was a kid. It's also the first place I ever saw another kid's pecker, but I digress.

There was an old weathered picnic table by the lake that had been there for as long as I could remember. It was maybe twenty yards from the edge of the woods where I was discretely crouched behind some trees as I watched him sit down on the bench. After a couple of minutes, he started rubbing his crotch. I stared wide-eyed as he moved the side of shorts aside and his big dick and balls fell out. He started slowly stroking his shaft and before long, my own dick was hard so I unzipped my shorts and fished it out and started beating off as he continued to pump his meat.

In those days I had no self-control and before I knew it, I was spurting my jizz into my hand and onto the leaves around me. Then I lost my balance and fell backwards as I was cumming and that's when my world changed forever. My little clandestine orgasm had barely subsided as I lay there flat on my back looking up at the darkening sky through the trees. I was trying not to breathe and praying that he hadn't heard me when suddenly Sven stepped forward until he was hovering over me and staring down at me.

Then he spoke in his thick Swedish accent.

"May I ask vat you are doing out here following me?"

Then he saw my shrinking dick in my sticky little hand.

"Never mind, I can see za reason now," he said before I could respond. "Here, I help you up," he added as he reached down.

I instinctively reached up with my right hand and before I could pull it back, he had clasped his big hand around my gooey mitt and pulled me to my feet. As we let go, he brought his glistening hand up and looked at his cum-covered fingers as if it were a bloody hand from a horror movie. I stared, mortified.

Sven brought it closer to his face and in the gloaming, he suddenly took a long swipe at the palm of his hand with his tongue and tasted my seed as I watched him with what I'm sure was an astonished look on my face.

"Mm, not bad."

Then he licked the rest of his hand and fingers clean of my boy juice. When he finished, he turned back towards the lake and started walking back to the picnic table.

He looked back over his shoulder and told me in a way that was not a suggestion, "Come, we go sit."

I obediently followed him as I zipped up and wiped my own hand on the pant leg of my shorts.

We both sat on the same side of the bench facing outward toward the water for some time before he spoke again. I had half expected him to deny what I had seen but his intentions were different.

"You obviously liked vat you ver seeing ven you ver spying on me, yes?" he said in a low tone looking at me.

I could only nod in response as I lowered my head and stared at the grass below.

Then he lightly rapped me on the arm with the back of his hand and smiled.

"Hey, dats nothing to be embarrassed about. It ess perfectly natural and besides, all guys do it."

What he did next shocked me.

"Here, I show you," he said as he moved his shorts aside and pulled his still half-hard prick and balls out again.

I stared down, mesmerized, as he took it in his hand and started stroking it again. It was the first time I had ever seen what I now know was an uncut penis and I marveled at how the head of his cock appeared then disappeared into the foreskin as he jerked his shaft up and down. His penis was thick and curved upward and his balls looked heavy, nestled in a patch of blond fur. As he fisted his cock, little droplets of moisture formed around the head and lubricated the shaft as it slid in and out of the skin in concert with his motion.

I sat transfixed as he continued sliding the rod through his hand, the veins in his forearm as prominent as those twisted around his engorged meat stick as it glistened in the twilight of the evening. Without invitation, I reached my hand out and wrapped it around the upper few inches of his cock and we both began jerking in unison as it rocketed through my fingers. He eventually let go and I had full control of the throbbing tube and began pumping faster even though I could barely wrap my hand around its girth.

Gripping his shaft right below the angry purple head, my fingers quickly grew slippery as I pumped the organ up and down as more of his pre-cum coated my fingers. Sven's breathing grew heavier and more labored as he grunted with each downward movement of my hand and I figured he was getting close. I could feel his cum churning in the channel of his urethra when he suddenly arched his back and thrust his hips upward off the bench. All movement came to a momentary halt as he groaned loudly and the first shot of cum gurgled from the head and covered my fingers.

Without warning, I went to my knees in front of him as the next shot came out with higher velocity and splashed onto the front of my tee-shirt. I aimed his cock at my face and felt a volley of his cum hit me across the bridge of my nose. I kept pumping and he kept shooting as globs of his thick, viscous semen glazed my face. I managed to open my mouth to catch the last of it on my tongue and tasted another guy's cum for the very first time. The first sensation I had was that some sort of sweet nectar had just coated my taste buds. Finally, Sven settled back down on the bench as I coaxed the last few drops from his cockhead.

I took his spent cock in my mouth and sucked and licked up the goo that had coated his rod then I slid the foreskin back and bathed and cleaned his cockhead with my tongue. I had no idea what I was doing but I think I was guided by natural instincts of how to pleasure a man. I scooped the jizz that was dripping down my face and sucked my fingers clean as he watched me with bewilderment.

It was another minute before he spoke again.

"Was dat your first time?"

"Uh huh," was my only reply as I continued licking my fingers as I looked into his blue eyes.

He covered his spent dick back up and stood up in front of me.

"C'mon, vee should get back before your parents send out a search party," he said with a laugh as he reached down and pulled me up off my knees.

As I stood erect, he surprised me when his arm went around the back of my neck and he pulled me into him and kissed me fully on the mouth, his tongue forcing its way between my lips. Although I had never kissed another person in such a way before, my tongue intuitively intertwined with his as he savored the taste of his cum from my mouth. As quickly as he kissed me he then broke it off and turned and began walking up the trail back towards the house.

I quickly fell in beside him and we walked quietly for a few minutes before I broke the silence.

"Sven?"

"Yes Lars?"

"Can I join you on your evening walks for now on?"

In the gleaming moonlight, he didn't reply but he suddenly broke into a broad smile and that told me everything I needed to know.

That summer was magical for me and was a series of firsts for me. I learned how to suck his cock and perfected the art of deepthroating and taking him all the way down to until the hairs at the base of his shaft tickled my nostrils. I could open my throat and take his massive loads that way but I found I much preferred to taste his cum as he laid the thick ropes along my tongue.

Before the summer was out, he was spreading me wide on the picnic table and feeding the length of his uncircumcised meat into my ass. I was like his own personal bottomless smorgasbord and he took me as often as he wanted. He sucked me off a few times but I much preferred the feeling of his Swedish meatballs bouncing off of me as he slammed his wonderfully curved piece of steel deep into my butt, filling me with his delectable sauce.

I also learned the metric system for the first time. Twenty centimeters was the exact length of his wonderful dick (I know because I measured it) and my openings became finely calibrated instruments for his exclusive use the rest of the summer. Even though his was my first, that gorgeous cock became my gold standard and I actually created my own rating system that I still use to this day to code my hook-ups.

It's a simple alphanumeric code composed of 5 values:

Length: in inches (rounded up or down to nearest inch)

Circumcision Status:

c

ut or

u

ncut meat

Girth:

t

hick/fat boy or

s

kinny/slim

Ejaculate Volume:

b

ig shooter or

s

mall loads

Qualitative Grade: 1-5 stars to judge overall performance

So, for example, I gave Sven's dick an

8utb5

rating. Decoded, it's an 8.3", uncut, thick, big shooting 5-star cock. As for me, I give myself a 5css5. 

Anyway, after my brother and Sven went back to college, I only saw Sven a few more times at ski events before he left for good and returned to Sweden to join their national ski team. It'd be another six years before I hooked up with him again as my travels took me around Europe. But that story's for another time.

I continued working on strengthening my damaged leg and once it had healed enough, the diving team let me join their club despite the fact I had no experience. It didn't hurt that they were short on members, but they also knew of my athletic ability through my brothers and from my speed skating successes. It wasn't long before I was able to catch up with their ability and then with some halfway decent coaching, I was able to establish myself as the top platform and springboard diver in the club.

Along the way, my body began to evolve from being a short, skinny-as-a-rail prepubescent teen to a six-foot high schooler with muscular legs and ass, toned eight-pack abs and well-defined shoulders and arms. By the time I was a senior, I was the top diver in this part of the state and was considering Division I scholarship offers from half a dozen colleges. It was also about that time that I decided to go as far away as possible after I got busted sucking off a guy at a diving meet.

This one's a short story. After a meet at some high school, I went into the locker room and used their community shower to wash the chlorine off my body. As I stood under the warm water in my suit, a much taller guy walked in and turned on the shower head about six feet away from me and quickly peeled his Speedo down his long legs.

I tried to be discrete as I watched him bend down and pull the suit from around his feet. His delicious ass cheeks parted slightly as he stooped and I got a brief peek at his pretty anal bud. He stood up and with his face to the stream coming from the shower head, I saw his semi-hard cock droop in a long arch down towards the tiled floor. It looked delicious and I felt my own modest little dick start to get hard.

He looked over and caught me dead to rights staring at his private parts. To make matters better, my own erection was quite apparent in my skimpy wet suit.

"What the fuck are you looking at? You a faggot or something?" he asked in an accusing tone.

I never bothered to take my eyes off his prick and just nodded my head.

I watched as he took his slender rod in his hand and started jerking it and bringing it fully erect.

"You wanna suck it fag?"

I nodded again. When he turned towards me still stroking his meat, I knew I didn't need a gilded invitation so I moved over and got on my knees in front of him and took the length of his cock into my mouth in one fell swoop. He wasn't huge and I was able to take him all the way in with no problem. He put his hands on the side of my head and started bucking his hips as he fucked my mouth like a piston.

I easily took every inch he had to offer, my gag reflex not even remotely coming into play as he picked up speed sliding his tool in and out of my gullet. Then all at once, he pushed in as deep as he could and grunted and then began shooting his hot load. It slid off the back and sides of my tongue as his sweet semen overflowed my mouth and began spilling from the corners of my lips. There was no savoring it for later as the water cascading from the shower head washed it off my face and wastefully sent it down the drain.

"Oh shit!" he gasped as I felt his body stiffen. Pulling his still-hard dick from my mouth, he quickly reached down, grabbed his suit and bolted out of the shower. I later gave No Name Diver a 6csb2 score - that last number since he came a little too quickly for my preference.

I turned my head around to see my diving coach standing there slack-jawed at the entrance to the shower rubbing his dick through his khakis. Coach took me that day. He stuffed his stubby, fat little sausage inside, pumped about a dozen times until I felt him unload in my bowels. He left as quickly as he came, leaving me on my hands and knees on the shower floor, the cum dripping from my boy pussy.

Coach (an overly generous 5ctl1) drove the team home in a van and kept glancing at me in the rear-view mirror. I couldn't quite tell if his look was one of smugness or perhaps one of fear. Regardless, we never repeated the episode and it was never mentioned between us. Although I wasn't outed at the time, I knew that my days as a gay teenager living in my small town were numbered.

As I neared graduation from high school, I was hooked on giving head, I started acquiring a taste for cum and I was getting more comfortable with feeling another guy's dick in my ass. I accepted a scholarship at one of the Midwest Power Five conference schools and was soon moving into the athletic dorms on campus and rooming with a couple of other freshmen in the program. It didn't hurt that at least half the guys on the team were also gay.

I adjusted to college life quickly and my diving took a huge step forward and I rapidly moved up the ladder and after the first two years, I was ranked in the top five divers in the conference. I relished traveling to meets at other colleges around the region and to national invitational events throughout the country. Having rarely previously traveled outside my home state, I liked meeting new people and it opened my eyes to a much larger world and I embraced the experience. But that's not all I embraced.

As part of my major to become a Physical Therapist, I was required to put in hours as a student trainer for one of the various athletic programs on campus. I really wanted to be a trainer for the men's gymnastics team (they were the cutest) but their winter sport season clashed with mine so I started supporting the football and lacrosse teams when I wasn't going to classes or diving practice. It's funny, both sports have their share of guys always trying to strut their masculinity and act like manly men but at the end of the day, I found that most of them liked having their nobs polished and they weren't too particular whether it was by a guy or a girl.

I became an expert at taping and wrapping ankles before games and the athletes would come to my station wearing maybe a half tee and a jock strap and want their ankles done. As I taped, some guys would make lewd comments and pull their jock strap aside to expose their cock and balls to me. Sometimes I would egg them on by licking my lips and they would return the favor by stroking their cocks in front of me if no one else was nearby.

These days that would probably earn them a major sexual harassment accusation but I actually enjoyed every bit of it. I'd get to see all shapes, sizes and colors of hard and soft and cut and uncut penises. And I got pretty good at spotting the steroid users with their shriveled nut sacks and other tell-tale signs.

These same guys would come back after the game to get their tape cut off, only this time they were filthy and grimy and drenched in sweat. I always got turned on by the smell of their perspiration and it never failed to get me aroused as I thought about running my tongue up and down their soaked shafts and balls and rimming their hot dirty holes.

In addition to taping, I was also sought after by the athletes for massages to help loosen their sore and aching muscles. I knew I was good at it by the moans and groans I got from the deep-tissue rubs I gave on the training table. In fact, I was so popular, some of the athletes would text me and ask me to come to their dorm rooms to provide treatment. Well, it doesn't take a genius to figure out where things went from there and I found that I could deliver a man relief and pleasure with much more than just my strong hands.