There’s no doubt that fourteen-year-old Jeff Douglas was asking for it. He was before his time in discovering he was more into men than woman and was dying to explore his sexuality. And his interest in sex went to older men--not old men, but guys he saw at the gym he sometimes went to with his Uncle Brad--guys that were always in the gym, always working out, and getting themselves all muscled up. Jeff’s fantasies were to be complete submissives to muscled-up guys who wanted to completely dominate him--not humiliate him but lay him out and take him totally. Uncle Brad liked guys too, and Jeff saw him interact with some of these muscle guys at the gym when they went there. He saw Uncle Brad exchanging special looks with these guys sometime and Jeff wanted to get these looks too. Sometimes he did. He certainly got them from the guy who sometimes was at the public pool he went to.
Jeff picked up some other things from Uncle Brad too. He had a stash of magazines in his apartment that Jeff liked to look at and imagine himself in and there were some videos Jeff watched when Jeff was sitting with Uncle Brad’s dog, Rex, while Uncle Brad was off somewhere--sometimes with a guy from the gym. Jeff knew it was guys from the gym, because he would go to the apartment window when Uncle Brad left and Jeff would see who was driving one of the convertibles Uncle Brad got into.
Magazines and videos weren’t the only things Jeff found in Uncle Brad’s apartment. He found toys too. The magazines and videos showed him what they were for and how to use them, and, being an inquisitive teenager, Jeff gave some of them a try. Uncle Brad had a collection of dildos, and Jeff had tried those out. He found that they turned him on. He was only beginning to feel the effects of being turned on--and completing--and he was even more turned on by all of that.
Yep, he’d already decided he wanted to be a man’s boy.
Jeff wanted to be like Uncle Brad and get what Uncle Brad was getting.
So, when the guy at the public pool paid attention to him and gave him those special looks--especially one guy--Jeff gave them the looks back. He saw it as just experimenting and teasing, but he didn’t fool himself about the possibility it would go further. The man who watched him, in particular, most was a real stud in Jeff’s eyes. At first it was just from across the pool. Jeff was part of the swim team at the pool. He’d started with his scout troop and earning a swimming badge by learning the various strokes. Some of the scouts stayed with the pool, though, and joined its swim team. Jeff did.
Then he noticed that on swim team practice mornings there were some men who came to the pool at the same time. They mostly lounged on recliners across the pool from where the team swimmers were gathered, and they’d watch the kids and talk among themselves. Occasionally they’d dive in the pool but then get right back out and return to their lounge beds. They didn’t come close to the kids; they just ogled them.
One man, in particular, was always watching Jeff. It was hard for Jeff not to know that he was being watched. The guy was older, in Jeff’s eyes. Maybe in his late twenties or early thirties. He was in good condition. No fat on him. He was dark haired and complexioned--tanned, like he spent a lot of time out in the sun. His chest and arms bulged with muscle. He must work in some sort of job and exercised his muscles a lot, Jeff thought. His stomach was flat and his thighs were muscular too. He wore tight Speedo swim trunks, so Jeff got a good idea about what he’d learned to look for in those magazines and videos Uncle Jeff had. He bulged there like most of the guys in the magazine did.
And he was always looking at Jeff--his eyes having the same searching, needy look that Jeff saw go between Uncle Brad and some of the guys at the gym--the guys who came and picked Uncle Brad up while Jeff was sitting with Rex and not bringing him back for several hours.
The man made his intentions clear one day when Jeff stayed after swim team practice to work on his backstroke and ended up going into the locker room after everyone else had cleared out. As he moved into the locker room, he saw the man rise from his lounge bed and saunter in his direction. Jeff was in the communal shower when the man came in to. He was naked and in half erection. Jeff well knew what an erection on a man was and what a man did with it. For some time he’d been aching to have a man do it with him, and so Jeff had an erection too when the man was in the shower, soaping up, and smiling at Jeff.
What struck Jeff as particularly arousing was the guy’s tan lines. He was deeply tanned everywhere but what his Speedo covered. Being light skinned there made that area pronounced, and what it pronounced was a plump butt, a trimmed groin, with curly pubic hair, and a big cock, with meaty, low-hanging, hairy balls. Jeff found that sexier than if the guy had been a dark tan color all over.
“Hi,” the man said. “Have been watching you swimming. You got style, kid.”
“Um, thanks,” Jeff said.
“You’ve been watching me too.”
Jeff didn’t answer. He just looked sheepish and gave a little smile. He didn’t even think to turn from the man or hide the fact that he was erect too. The man certainly was huge erect, Jeff thought--like a lot of the guys in Uncle Brad’s magazine stash.
“I think you kind’a like me--the way I look. The cut of my body. You seen a prick this size before? You got a nice one too.”
“Uh, thanks,” was all Jeff could say. But he was staring at the man’s cock, which was in full erection. The man was holding it, pretending to soap it up to clean it, but he didn’t have to hold it that long to clean it. “You know what it means when a guy is hard like this?” the man asked. He was holding the erection and pointing it at Jeff. He wasn’t embarrassed about that at all.
“Um, I think so,” Jeff answered.
“It means someone turns him on. You and me are the only ones here, so I think you know what that means. You’re hard too. You know that means you’re interested too. You can see that I’m interested. You interested, kid? Are you maybe a little bit excited about us being here, together, naked?”
“Yes,” Jeff mumbled.
“I didn’t hear you. Did you say yes?”
“Yes,” Jeff said, louder.
“I wonder how old you are to be able to get hard like that. How old are you, kid?”
“Fourteen,” Jeff answered.
“Nice. Young enough to be innocent and tight but old enough to be thinking thoughts men have. You can touch mine if I can touch yours. You ever touched a man’s prick before?”
The man reached out and took Jeff’s hand, pulling the boy a bit closer to him. Jeff yielded to him. He moved Jeff’s hand to where it was cupping the man’s cock. When Jeff didn’t pull away--didn’t actively take a grip but didn’t pull away, just gave a low moan--the man reached over and encased Jeff’s cock with one of his hand. Jeff immediately went harder and began to tremble. The man gave a low laugh.
“So, here we are, feeling each other up,” the man said. “We’re both hard. You got any ideas, kid? I got a few ideas.”
Just then they heard whistling from someone entering the locker room, though, so, instinctively, the man released Jeff’s cock and turned away, soaping himself up again and rinsing off as another man entered the shower.
Jeff heard the word “Later” being hissed before the other guy got into the shower room.
Jeff had turned away too and stood under the shower, willing his cock to deflate, which, after a minute it was doing enough to allow him to grab for his towel and exit the shower. The man was already gone from the shower stall and wasn’t evident in the locker room either. Jeff dried off and dressed and exited the locker room.
A hand grabbed him and pulled him around the corner to the back of the locker room, in a narrow space between the locker room wall and a boxwood hedge.
It was the man who had fondled Jeff in the locker room shower. He pulled Jeff to him and locked his lips on Jeff’s. He had an arm around Jeff’s waist, holding him in place, and his other hand went to Jeff’s crotch, squeezing Jeff’s cock through the material of his shorts. Jeff yielded to the man in the possessive kiss and moaned.
Again, voices were heard. The man released Jeff, muttered, “Later” again, and disappeared around the other side of the locker room.
Jeff held for a few minutes, calming himself down, reveling in the experience. He was scared, yes, but exhilarated as well and full of “finally” feelings. How to let the man know that he wasn’t put off, that he was still interested?
After pulling himself together, Jeff came back around the side of the locker room building. He slowly walked back to the pool, walking down the side of the pool that the men watchers gathered. The man--his man--was back on his lounge bed. He was wearing his Speedo, but as Jeff approached he could now see that front of the Speedo was tented. The man was still thinking about him and what they’d done. And the man was staring at him. Jeff sauntered by the men, turning his head at the last second to give “the man”--his man--a slight smile. At the end of the pool, he sauntered back and then toward the gate to the parking lot.
.... There is more of this story ...