The Pool

All the time I was in the pool, pushing through the water, I was thinking about the guy in the next lane. We'd glanced at each other in the locker room, but nothing more. I didn't normally look at guys, but ever since I'd been coming to the pool, I found myself drawn more and more to their bodies. The hardness, the wetness. Something had shifted inside me, something had stirred. I got out of the water when he did, trying not to be obvious about it. I just wanted to watch him towel off. Maybe I would think about him later. Damn, where had that thought come from?

There were spare cubicles, but we towelled dry next to each other. He was toned, tanned, and not at all shy about his body. His cock was just there. Clean shaven, pink, smooth. Thoughts followed that I couldn't contain. What did it taste like? Smell like? How much cum would leak out if you licked it? What would it taste like on your tongue? There was a bead of water running down its length. Could I get the whole thing in my mouth? Jesus. I had stopped breathing, only then did I realise I'd been staring, and he'd noticed.

He didn't comment, just looked at me for a moment, and then stroked himself, just one slow tug, up the length. My hand followed the movement. He grinned. I looked around, we were alone, but I could hear talking in the distance, splashing from the pool. He continued to stroke and I just watched. My mouth opened, I felt foolish. I looked up at him, I didn't know what to do. He smirked, then walked over to an empty cubicle and walked in. He left the door open.

For a moment, the world stood still.

My heart was going crazy, but this was something new, exciting, I didn't know how to stop myself. I followed him in and closed the door. My towel was on the floor somewhere, but I was dizzy, I didn't care. His was at his feet. I watched as he put his hand to his mouth, licked it, and then took a saliva-slick palm down to his cock. He stroked faster, leaning backwards, his eyes closed slightly, enjoying it. After a moment he stopped, his breath had been increasing- sexiest fucking sound I thought I'd ever heard- but now he looked at me. He pointed to the floor. I got to my knees, scared, nervous. Was I really doing this? He smelled so fresh, so clean. There was spit around his cock, and water dripping in beads from his legs and arms. I looked up at him, dazed, I needed a push.

"Lick it," he whispered. So I did.

My tongue went up and down the shaft, slowly at first, then quicker. What a taste, so odd, so sweet and good. I put it in my mouth and sucked. I felt myself get hard. He grabbed my hair and started to slowly fuck my mouth. I knelt there and took it, delirious. The small cubicle was hot, all I could hear were his low urgent grunts. I had wanked about this moment, played the silly little fantasy through over and over, never knowing if I would really want it, but I did. He knew that better than I did. I opened my mouth wider and started to bob my head in motion with him.

"Yessss!" he hissed.

I closed my eyes and revelled in him. The beads of water falling from his chest onto my nose, the hardening meat in my mouth, the crazed excited little tugs in my hair. How had there never been anything as sexy, as filthy, as this? I just wanted to please him, nothing else mattered. Just abandoning myself to this, felt so good, so liberating... My mind started to race. Where was he going to cum? In my mouth? Would I gag? I should swallow it, I couldn't let someone find it on the floor... The more I thought about how I was going to have to swallow his cum, the harder and harder I got.

"Oh fuck..." He pushed me away. He was close. He stared down at me and stroked my face, an oddly tender moment in something that had been almost wordless, almost animal. "You want me to suck you?" he whispered. He wasn't being selfish, but I didn't care. I shook my head and opened my mouth. He looked startled for a moment, then grinned widely. I stuck my tongue out for him to lay his cock on, then I started sucking again. He let me lead now. He made me pass up his towel, and when I glanced up I saw he was biting into it, making muffled moans. Oh fuck.

I started jerking myself quickly, while my head bobbed faster and faster. In the background I could hear doors opening and closing, passing voices, chatter. Someone was opening a locker, two men were talking about parking, about football. I had been like them once, and I had always been staring at the cubicles, wishing I could be doing something risky like this. I stopped wanking and used both hands to clutch his buttocks, pawing at him, pulling him closer. I was sucking with long deep strokes. Mindless. Breathless. He was shifting his weight, almost on tiptoes. I knew he was on the edge. I paused to lick some sweat and some pool water from his hips. I wanted his flavour, his taste. I went back to his cock and took him slow. His hands grabbed my hair and he thrust into my mouth, cumming suddenly. Thick, warm, it shot into the back of my mouth and I swallowed it all. The flavour was pure sex. Sweat and flesh, sweet and taboo. Like nothing I'd imagined, but so much more.

I could feel the meat pulsing in my mouth. He was biting into his towel, gasping, shaking. I took my time to recover, breathing carefully as he shook and spasmed. I licked his cock clean, then spit on it and licked it clean again. He stroked my hair. We stayed like this for a moment, then he pulled me up and kissed me. I don't know what I must have tasted like, but he smiled again, he reached down for my cock. "You don't have to," I muttered, but he scowled.

"I want to." He spit into his palm then stroked me. He went faster and faster, toying with me, teasing me, then he grabbed my arse and stroked my anus with his fingertips. I grabbed the towel from him and bit into it as I came, shuddering. He caught it all in a cupped hand, played with it, then licked it clean.

We leaned against the wall for a while, panting. Then we left our small cubicle, and I found my towel on the floor. We didn't speak, I don't think either of us knew what to say. We exchanged smiles, numbers, and then went our ways.

I could still taste him. New. Fresh. Clean. No more fantasies, no more looking at cubicles. I'd had a taste, a real taste, and there would be no going back.

Just down.