The Only Diver at Meadows

Authors note: This is my 2nd attempt at writing so, any and all feedback is extremely welcome! Thanks for reading! Also every Character in this story is 18 years of age.

For the rest of the bus ride, I sat alone in a heightened state of panic and uncertainty. I was completely aware of my rapid heartbeat, warped thoughts, and general fight or flight feeling. Yet, I was utterly unable to process any of it. What had just happened? Why did Oscar do that? And most alarming for me, why was I still so aroused? My cock was just as hard as it had been thirty mins ago, throbbing through two layers of clothing. It was more than just erect, It was somehow bigger than it had ever been. I thought back to my first ever sexual experience with my now ex-girlfriend. The anxiety had made it difficult to get it up. Yet now, anxiety and fear were leading to the opposite reaction. These questions were interrupted by our arrival at the meet. As I got up, I adjusted myself, leaving the top half of my dick comically sticking out of my speedo, jutting under my sweatshirt. At least this way, it was hidden and not bulging through my pants.

The combination of the cold air, a new environment, and the tight banding of my speedo as we walked through school hallways to the pool were enough to finally calm my member. Now with the familiar smell of chlorine washing over me, whatever panic I had been feeling actually started to fade. Oscar had just been messing with me. There wasn't anything to it. In fact, he probably didn't even know what he was touching. I bet it felt like a thigh.

Immediately after these thoughts passed out of my mind, I knew they were bullshit; he had purposely stoked my cock, but I pushed this idea away. Everything is excellent, and it's all fine. Let's just focus on swimming. I quickly glanced around my teammates looking for Oscar, but he had already separated to join the other divers. With him out of the picture, I was finally able to shove whatever remaining feelings I had about that bus trip to the back of my mind and focus on the meet.

I ended up with a decent standing by powering through whatever thoughts crossed my mind by simply swimming harder--even setting some personal best's. I didn't see Oscar at all for the rest of the meet. In fact, it would be weeks before we interacted again. While I saw him from a distance several times around the pool, the closest I had been to him was in the showers. There's a weird mood in the locker room after practice, just a bunch of guys talking to each other with varying degrees of dress. Your either someone who takes their suit off, or you're someone who keeps it on. I had always fallen under the latter. I didn't feel super comfortable in my own skin, so why expose more of it. Even with the nudity, showering was usually a relaxing break signaling the end of practice. But since that bus trip, I had run into an issue.

If I took a long enough shower, usually at the tail end of my own, Oscar would walk in It was an open layout, just a bunch of shower heads sticking out of the wall in a tiled room, no kind of modesty curtains. Usually full of naked dudes, and nothing about it had ever even remotely got me going. Yet every time Oscar walked in, I could feel my cock begin to swell.

This was in part due to the trauma of our bus ride but also due to Oscar himself. He was showered in a suit the same as me, and his pitch-black speedo was a stark contrast to his pale skin. He was also was built differently from the rest of us. Thinner, angular, more elegant, he almost had a feminine quality to his build. His narrow shoulder tapered down to an even slimmer waist before expanding for a butt I wasn't ready for. I had never looked down at a man like that before, and the first time I noticed during a backward glance, I almost immediately become wholly engorged. His ass curved out of his waist, thoroughly filling out his suit and spilling through the holes for his leg. After witnessing this for the first time, I had to awkwardly rush out of the showers, running to a bathroom stall hiding my shame in my hands.

Why am I getting hard in a room full of naked men? What is happening to me? Yet only Oscar had this kind of impact on me, so I continued to steal glances at him in the shower, get aroused, and then panic. All while making sure to never put myself in a situation where I actually had to talk to him. On top of this there was one last thing I had started to notice in my constant staring. The front of his speedo looked extremely extremely packed.

At first, I thought it was just his smaller stature combined with the tightness of the fabric and his ample ass. But as my eyes were drawn to his crotch, again and again, I began to suspect he was huge.

There was something in there well beyond just rivaling my own size. The divers wore smaller speedos with no legs, so all of his equipment was stuck in that bulging front pouch. How had no one noticed this before? Why was the talk of the school not on the possible anaconda living in Oscar Campbell's pants? Once or twice, I thought he caught me staring at him. When I rose to meet his eyes, I found them elsewhere, oblivious to my gaze.

All of this came to a head one week before our last meet. I was swimming laps after practice alone in the pool. It had been a particularly rough day. Some drama with friends was starting to affect my schoolwork, and the added pressure of the upcoming meet was racing through my mind. I touched the wall and raised my head out of the water, pulling off my goggles, and there crouched down right on the edge of the pool was Oscar.

I could faintly hear him saying something, but my mind was focused entirely on the massive bulge just a few inches away from my face. With his legs spread in this position, the fabric was pulled tight across his sex. There was no question now Oscar must have been part horse. I could see a coke-can-sized slab of meat draped down over his balls and tucked under them.

This is why I had such a hard time gauging his size; it looked like most of its length was curled down past his proportionally sized balls and up into his ass crack. Just then it twitched, a ripple running down its whole length and then out of sight past the curve of his buttocks. I could see precisely how thick his python was, but the tucking made it impossible to determine the length.

"Do you hear me" this time, Oscar's words got through my ears and into my brain?

"I'm sorry what," I replied while trying to pull my eyes away from the outline of his massive cock.

"Coach wanted me to tell you to close up. He had to go," he said, while pointing to the door. I finally averted my eyes from his crotch and looked towards his finger to the south end of the pool where Couch Wilfred was walking through the exit door.

"Oh, ok," I replied and immediately dove underwater. My mind was full of butterflies; I didn't know what to do with myself. I kicked off the wall and started another lap, though I felt considerable drag thanks to my own erection. Once I returned to the north end of the pool, I stuck my head out looked around. Oscar was gone, and I was alone.

I pulled myself out of the water and again adjusted my swimsuit to better hide my rigid cock. Thinking of how much room I had to work down there compared to Oscar. I slowly worked my way into the locker room and glanced around, silence. Judging the coast clear, I walked into the shower to see them empty as well. Finally calm, I was unsure of why I was even sneaky in the first place. Then the girthy monster between Oscar's legs flashed through my mind. Shaking my head, partially hoping it would remove my newest memory, I walked up to a showerhead and turned it on.

Just as I started washing the chlorine out of my hair, I heard movement behind me. Turning, I saw Oscar walk in from the bathroom side and over to the shower head just a space away from mine; turning it on, he shifts towards me and asks, "Hey dude, you ready for the last meet?" Blood rushes to my crotch and face as I open my mouth to try and answer.

To be continued...