Swimming coach admires a young blond lad in the showers, at first just platonically. He was dead cute after all.
Now in my early forties I’ve only ever been interested in women. Married happily, I have kept my shape. I’m slim, not much body hair, and I shave my nether regions. I’m white, male, straight, pretty ordinary, a swimming coach.
I rarely fantasize, though I must admit that I have always liked the look of slim young women in, say, that first year or so after puberty: shapely, smooth and with the cutest of little breasts, preferably pointy, especially when they decide to wear no bra – hardly any need yet – on the beach below those white t-shirts. I remember one in Italy once who wore nothing on top: her deeply bronzed skin had nipples but barely anything else, and the vision of that deliciousness remains to this day.
Anyway, I’m not here to talk of girls, for something startling occurred recently.
Swim session. Showers. Me in shorts over speedos, and T. Just one kind from the under-15s class in the shower. I walked in as his shower was nearly at an end and I couldn’t help admiring him. He was cute, blond, slim, slightly tanned but with a band of white and oh-so-soft skin where his trunks had been. He looked cold, shivering slightly, with a small but rather perfect penis and bottom. As he turned in the shower I got views from many angles, and each perspective was just beautiful.
There was nothing sexual in my looking, no stirring in my loins, just admiration of the form, the pure artistry of his slender body, and his cute green/blue eyes as he watched me.
We watched each other, silent.
His penis was soft. The more I looked at him, the more I looked at it.
No words were spoken. I dropped to my knees, curled my index finger to beckon him. I smiled. He smiled, and took the four tentative steps he needed to be right in front of me.
It looked genuinely beautiful up close.
No words were spoken.
As gently as I conceivably could, I took hold and encouraged his soft penis into my mouth. A tiny gasp I could hear as he felt my welcoming tongue. ‘But I only like girls!’ flashed through my mind as I felt his little softness grow into a medium-sized (4½”?) hardness. I encouraged him by holding his buttocks gently and rocking his pelvis toward me.
Goodness, how lovely. How arousing. I felt my own speedos strain, but I did not want him to see, nor to elicit my own pleasure or release. All I wanted was to enjoy the moment.
It lasted maybe 90 seconds. I felt a swelling; I heard a moan; I paused; he paused. He came. My joy and excitement were total.
Wow, what a feeling, what a taste. What have I been missing?
Gradually we pulled apart. We smiled. He smiled. He towelled his cock clean.
I turned, and I saw the other swim-team members watching, open-mouthed.
Oh my … will they come in and shower, having just been witness to all that?
No longer do I only like girls.
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