Monday evening, 9:45
When I moved to Montreal three years ago from Winnipeg, I chose the South West district of the city because of the George-Vanier sports complex and its amazing pool. I retired from competitive swimming after the London Olympic Games and went back to College to finish my MBA. After that, I went to work for Scotia Bank and ... when the opportunity to transfer to Montreal reared its head, I jumped at the chance.
Anyway, ever since I’m been coming to this pool, I’ve had plenty of eye candy and plenty of frustrating – and sometimes embarrassing – hard-ons, but I’ve seen very little action. Sure a few hot guys have given me great fantasy jerk-off material, but I kept thinking, ‘Wow! Wouldn’t it be great if they had a pool like this in the Gay Village instead of those disgusting bathhouses they call saunas? Shit! If I was straight I’d have so much pussy, my head would spin, but cock? Damn, am I the only gay man West of Peel Street?’
When I spotted Deimos, I literally gasped. I didn’t know his name yet – and maybe I’m giving too much away by revealing it now, but hey, why would I be talking about him if there wasn’t a point, right? – but I certainly knew that he was one of the best looking guys I’d ever seen. And in my previous line of activity, you can bet I’ve seen plenty. I didn’t know where Deimos had come from, but there he was, making his way up the high-dive ladder as I completed a lap at the other end of the pool. I wiped the water out of my eyes a second time to make sure they could drink in his breathtaking beauty. I guessed almost instantly that he was Greek and thought, ‘Oh come on! What a cliché! A Greek god making his way to the summit of Mount Olympus? Sure! His name is probably Adonis, right?’ I chuckled to myself, but still couldn’t take my eyes off that amazing chiseled body, those incredible abs, rugged shoulders, cut biceps and strong legs coming out of a dark purple Speedo that just seemed to be overflowing with manpower.
My heart sped up and butterflies started flying around my taut belly as he reached the plank and walked to the end of it. The only thing I could think about as he got closer to the edge was how much I longed to see his ass in that tight swimsuit ... and how amazing his back muscles would look – and dared I dream, feel – since his front was just mouth-watering perfection. As he reached the end of the board and I saw him curl his toes around the edge, he got up on the balls of his feet and I thought, ‘What are you doing, dude? You’re too close to the edge to do that. You better have a hell of a good sense of balance if you don’t want to fall over into the pool and make a fool of yourself.’ But not only did he maintain perfect balance, he even managed to hook both of his index fingers under the Speedo’s fabric on either sides of his crotch to adjust his swimsuit.
That’s when our eyes met for the first time.
I suddenly felt as if I was staring at him inappropriately, as if I was some kind of sick voyeur prying through the window of his bathroom as he showered. ‘Idiot!’ I told myself. ‘He’s on display! He’s at the top of a diving board at a public pool and there are about... ‘ I looked around quickly, scanning the whole place. ‘ ... two other people here.’ When my eyes went back to his, he gave me a coy smile and slowly came back down on his heels. He took a step back and pulled his Speedo away from his crotch with one hand and reached inside with his other hand, adjusting that generous package without taking his eyes off mine.
I wondered if he was getting hard because that bulge certainly looked impressive from where I was standing but I really couldn’t tell.
My own cock twitched in my red Maple Leaf Speedos which, I thought, were luckily still underwater as I was in the shallow end of the pool.
When he took his hand back out of his swimsuit, even though I was very far away, I could see that he had stretched out his cock and had made it point to his right hip. He was getting hard ... or was already there! He looked at me and I gulped, doing everything in my power not to lick my lips like a cheesy 1980s porn film model.
He stretched a little, maybe just showing off his muscles for me, and then wound up for his dive. It was absolutely perfect. The stuff of Olympic champions. I thought, ‘Hey, maybe he’s just like me. Maybe he was in the Olympics, too, but on the diving side and now he’s retired to Montreal, found a new career in ... porn?’ I laughed aloud. It didn’t matter. Nobody noticed and my Greek hunk hadn’t resurfaced yet.
A few more seconds passed and I started fantasizing that he was swimming over to me, underwater, and would go straight for my hardening dick, pushing against the stretchy fabric of my Speedos. My cock grew even more and I slipped my right hand into my swimsuit, squeezing my growing pole, helping it along. I scanned the whole pool, looking for him to surface, actually becoming more and more worried that something might have happened to him. Had he hit his head at the bottom of the pool and been rendered unconscious? Was he still swimming toward me, holding his breath like the athletic champion that he was? Had he died of a heart attack from falling in lust at first sight?
I took my hand out of my Speedos and off my hard cock, really starting to worry. I frantically looked around as I started walking toward the deep-end of the pool. One elderly woman with a flowery swim cap – do those things really still exist? Well, I guess so – was doing breast-stroke side laps and a nonchalant city employee was sitting on the side of the pool, reading a gossip magazine. I started to think I might have just dreamt Deimos up. That he was all in my head ... but how could that be since he also seemed to have made his way to my COCK HEAD???
I dove under and scanned the bottom of the pool. He was nowhere in sight. I went back down a couple of times to make sure. No sign of my Greek god. I came back up again. Tried to make eye contact with the old lady and with the lazy employee, but they were completely oblivious to me or anything else that might be going on.
I quickly swam to the side ladder and got out of the pool, grabbing my towel and heading to the locker room, determined to find Deimos to confirm that I was not going out of my mind.
He just looked like he had vanished ... or had never existed.
I dried off, got dressed and went home. That night, I jacked-off fantasizing about Deimos, replaying his walk up the ladder, his naughty little game on the diving board he turned into a stripper’s stage and his amazing dive into the crystal-clear water.
I thought the powerful orgasm I had given myself would help me sleep like a baby, but I ended up having a crazy-hard time falling asleep, my mind working overtime trying to make sense of the mysterious Greek god’s disappearance into thin air.
Tuesday evening, 7:15
The following night, I went back to the pool and decided to get there early in hopes of spotting Deimos again. There was no way I could have made it up. There had to be a logical explanation.
As I hit the locker room to slip on my steel-blue Speedos, I scanned the place like a mad man, desperately searching for any sign of Deimos. He didn’t seem to be there. I went to the showers and rinsed myself off before going to the pool. There, I only saw two silver-haired guys who argued non-stop about politics as if I wasn’t even there. I was fine with that as I really didn’t want to get involved – not to mention the fact that, with my rotten level of French, I definitely wouldn’t have been able to keep up.
When I got to the pool, there were so many people – families with young screaming children, older people swimming laps, a half-dozen pregnant ladies doing some kind of aquatic aerobics – that I thought to myself, ‘Maybe he’s here and I can’t even see him.’ I walked around the pool twice, looking for him everywhere, feeling really ridiculous because what were the chances that he would be back the next night – some 22 hours later –, right?
‘Are you here to swim or to look for a figment of your imagination?’ I scolded myself.
I decided to follow in Deimos’s footsteps and went up the ladder to the diving board thinking, ‘From up there, you’ll be able to see everybody.’ And just as I got ready to dive, jumping up on the spring board, I thought I caught a glimpse of my Greek god coming out of the locker room. As I came back down, I lost my footing and slipped off the board, free-falling toward the water and hitting the surface like a sack of potatoes.
The pain in my foot – brought on by my ankle hitting the side of the board – and the pain in my back from slamming against the water were nothing compared to the pain I was feeling in the area of my EGO!
As I came back to the surface of the water, I felt somebody grab me under my knees and under my back as if I’d been some kind of damsel in distress being saved from drowning, like a Disney princess being rescued by her Speedo-clad Prince Charming.
When the strong arms put me down on the floor on the side of the pool, I realized I’d been saved by ... my Greek god.
“Ça va?” he asked with a peculiar accent, his right hand now holding the back of my head and his left hand resting on my chest as though he was making sure my heart was still beating in there.
“I’m fine. Je suis okay.”
He smiled down at me and I felt my cock start growing in my Speedos.
“Thanks for helping me, I said, hoping to keep his attention on my upper body so he wouldn’t notice what was going on down there. I felt really stupid.”
“Nah,” he replied with less of an accent in English than in French from what I could make out. It happens to the best of us. And from what I’ve seen, you’re a pretty good swimmer ... a really good athlete.
I thought I felt his hand move on my chest and one of his fingers graze my right nipple which was already erect from the serious case of goosebumps I had. An electric bolt shot right to my cock making it pop up. I quickly looked down, making my abs contract and thanking my lucky stars that it hadn’t just slipped out of my Speedos.
I smiled at him.
“You look pretty amazing yourself when you go off that diving board.”
It took everything in me to not ask, ‘Where the hell did you go after that dive last night? Is there a secret underwater passage I don’t know about in the deep end of the pool?’
I sat up, thinking we needed to change positions because all these people using the pool would probably think we were a little too close for comfort. At least their comfort because, as far as I was concerned, I was very comfortable.
“I’m Deimos, he said, sticking out his right hand.”
He was still in the pool and I realized he’d been hanging on by his elbows as his feet couldn’t reach the bottom at this end.
“So you come and train here regularly? he asked.”
“Almost every day.”
I looked up and this mini version of Deimos, in a mini ocean-blue Speedo with an orange Nemo right there, was standing next to me.
“Did you save him? Is the man alright?”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself, Lucas? Jason, this is my son, Lucas. Lucas, this is my friend Jason.”
My head started spinning and my cock started deflating! My Greek god/Prince Charming/superhero lifesaver was a dad ... to an eight-year-old Mini Him?
“Hello,” said the little man, offering his hand for me to shake. “Can we go swimming now?”
Deimos looked at me and smiled, shrugging.
“Sorry. I’m glad you’re okay.”
Then, he turned to his son and said:
“What are you waiting for? I’m already in the pool. Come on in!”
“Daddy! Shallow end!”
Deimos sighed and swam away looking at me saying:
“See you around...”
I just sat there, totally stunned, before hearing him warn his son:
“No running, Lucas.”
Then, I saw the little man jump into the water, joining his father.
I got up slowly, worried my ankle might hurt a little. It was okay. Again, my ego was hurt more than anything else. And now that my hot, Greek dream lover apparently was a straight dad to an eight-year-old future heartbreaker – and who knows how many other gorgeous children he’d spawned with who knows how many beautiful, exotic international goddesses, for that matter –, my heart was even more bruised than any part of my body could have been.
That night, I jerked off to a porn video of a Japanese swim team orgy, desperately trying to get my mind off Deimos pushing baby carriages and changing diapers. Just as I was about to cum, my Greek god snuck back into my fantasy, rubbing his hard cock through the fabric of his dark purple Speedos, and my cock exploded, shooting hot cum up to my face and into my hair!
“Damn you!” I whispered, sighing.
Wednesday evening, 9:30
The next evening, I decided I’d avoid the after dinner crowd of bopping pregnant gals and over-excited children so, after work, I went out for a drink and some dinner before heading home. Around 8:30, I started doing some core exercises, working on my abs and quads, deltoids and glutes. As I was working out, I kept cursing myself out because I knew – for once – I wasn’t exercising for the right reasons. I was only doing my reps in hopes of impressing Deimos if he happened to show up at the pool later on that night.
“You’re sooooo vain!” I said aloud, my cat Chinook turning to me and looking over to see if I was addressing him.
At 9:20, I grabbed my swim bag and trekked on over to the pool, determined to concentrate on my swimming and keeping my brain away from my Greek god. Anyway, what was the point? He was just one of those bi-curious macho guys who just wanted to get everybody into them with cute winks and seductive smiles only to string you along and then say, ‘Oh but I’m not gay, dude!’ I knew the type.
It took me ten minutes to get to the sports complex. I was like a missile on a mission. A horse with those eye thingies, focused on the prize. Getting into the pool and swimming my laps. That was it. Nothing else.
I hit the locker room to slip into my black Speedos, not even taking time to adjust my cock and balls, not even caring what my package looked like. I wasn’t there to make an impression, I was there to swim. Period.
Quickly, I rinsed off under the shower as recommended before you hit the pool and I headed straight for the water, not even looking around, as though I’d been completely alone. I flicked my towel onto one of the benches around the pool, dove in and swam almost a full length of the pool underwater as if I was trying to forget and cleanse myself of the dirty thoughts I’d had the last two days. When I came up for air, I didn’t even open my eyes and went straight back down again, swimming the rest of the way.
I frantically started swimming laps, not even counting them, just beating the surface of the water with my arms and feet, torpedoing from one end of the pool to the other as though my life depended on it.
When I was completely spent, I got out of the pool, grabbed my towel and dried off, first fluffing up my hair and then going down my body till I was bent over to rub the water off my calves. Suddenly, I felt something pressing against my butt and I bounced up. Before I could turn around, I felt a warm hand between my shoulder blades and another hand reaching from behind to cover my eyes.
‘Really?’ I thought. ‘What are we, 10? Or 8, maybe? Had he learned this from his 8-year-old son?’
I decided to play it cool ... and straight.
“Hey, man, what’s up?”
“Can’t you feel it?” he asked with a playful, almost childlike tone.
I could actually feel his hard cock pressing against my butt and my own dick inflating like one of those blowup thingamajigs you rent out for a kid’s party. His left hand pressing against my backbone felt like it was radiating heat and his right hand had slipped off my eyes, resting around my throat as if he was going to snap my neck if I made a false move. His warm breath on the back of my neck was giving me goosebumps all over and I felt an irresistible urge to pinch my nipples but I resisted it. Although I felt I was slowly melting into his arms, I was suddenly overtaken by the thought of other people that might be here and might be put off by this erotic display on the side of a public pool.
I pulled away and quickly wrapped my towel around my waist to hide my bulging Speedos. I swiftly glanced around and didn’t notice anybody else in or around the pool. Okay. At least he wasn’t completely nuts. He’d made sure we were alone before he engaged in homoerotic craziness in public.
“I gotta go.”
“Yeah. I ... I’m meeting up with a girl from work. We, er ... We’re gonna have a drink, you know? And, uh ... see what happens.”
Ugh... ‘You are the worst liar in the world, ‘ I thought to myself, hoping it didn’t show on my face.
“Oh, I thought...”
I didn’t even want to hear the disappointment in his voice.
“Yeah, well ... you know ... shit happens.”
What did that even mean in this context? I was just spewing nonsense and felt like a bumbling idiot. I took a look at my wrist as if I was checking the time on my watch, even though I didn’t even have one.
“I’m sorry. I’m gonna be late if I don’t get going.”
“Sure. I understand.”
I looked down at his Speedos. He was wearing a little yellow number with vertical red lines on each side of his huge bulge. His cock seemed so hard it was pushing the Lycra fabric away from his crotch and I could see inside the top of his swimsuit, getting an eyeful of his forest of dark pubes. I just wanted to cup his balls and pull him into a kiss but I resisted. When I looked down at the front of my towel, I realized it wasn’t doing what I had hoped. My cock was so hard it was tenting under the towel!
“So, uh ... see you around!” I blurted out, turning away and heading to the locker room.
“Yeah. I, uh ... I hope. It was really nice seeing you again.”
“Totally,” I shouted out, walking away, trying to sound as aloof as I could.
“You gonna be here again tomorrow? I heard him ask.”
But I pretended I hadn’t heard him. I walked straight to the locker room, pulled my Speedos off my throbbing hard-on, had the hardest time stuffing it into my boxer briefs, got dressed and rushed home to masturbate.
That night, I had the worse time trying to fall asleep, going back and forth in my mind, wondering if I’d done the right thing, playing hard to get or if I’d just been completely ridiculous, running away like a virginal Catholic school prude.
Thursday evening, 8:45
After a weird day at work during which my brain kept wandering off, questioning my actions of the night before, I wondered if I should go to the pool early and face the mob of families and swimmers of all ages – avoiding some potential private time with Deimos – or go later and face the possibility that I might have to deal with him on a more tangible level.
I opted for something in between. I showed up in the locker room at 8:45, just as the last of the dads with their kids were packing up their stuff to leave. I stripped naked, put my stuff in a locker and headed to the showers with my forest green Speedos with yellow pin stripes and towel in my hands. I washed off the weirdness of my day and my mind started drifting off as I lathered up my cock and balls.
“You need help with that?”
I was startled, but somehow, I wasn’t surprised that Deimos had cornered me in the showers. I couldn’t help but spontaneously mutter: ‘Ugh’ and think: ‘Really? That’s your line?’ Yes, I was annoyed but also really aroused, which made me very angry at myself.
“I know, right? Sorry. That was really cheesy.”
Well, at least, he acknowledged that. The water was cascading down my back and the jet from the shower head was powerful enough that it was giving me a soothing massage. Today, he was wearing black Speedos again, but the skin-hugging short boxer kind with white stripes on the sides. He was sexy as all hell but I couldn’t help but notice that I preferred his tanned, olive skin in eggplant purple or vibrant yellow. I cupped my cock and balls in my hands as if I wanted to send the message: ‘Your eyes don’t get to see this, dude. Off limits.’
“Your son with you tonight?” I asked, with a snippy tone before turning my back to him and rinsing off my front so I could slip on my Speedos.
I know. It was childish.
“Nah. He’s with his mom.”
‘Straight boy!’ I mouthed without making a sound, my back still turned to him.
“My ex. We have an open relationship.”
“Had. We’ve only been living apart for three months so I haven’t really gotten used to it yet.”