As I said before, I go swimming 3 prison term a workweek and at the time I go, the pool-boys are the only eye-food worth looking at, sitting as they do, in their slinky shorts, bored to death on their high stools at each end of the syndicate. Nothing ever happens and they don't seem to take a lot to do. They're supposed to be life-guards but most of them are so young that I do wonder what they would do if anything dangerous occurred. Mind you, I must hold that the sentiment of any one of them snogging me back to the land of the keep is adequate to proceed me going just a few More duration each time, in the Hope of bringing on a heart-attack ! Sorry ; I know I shouldn't gag about such things.

Today though, it's was particularly quiet, between Christmas and New Year and there are just 2 of us in the consortium. As I cross towards the pool ladder, I notice a lad I haven't seen before, sitting in the guard's chair. He must be new because he doesn't have the official consortium rig of red top and smuggled trunks. Instead, he wears an orangeness T-shirt and a pair of blue air nylon football game shorts.

He's quite Loretta Young too ; he can't be much over 18, with a baby-soft aspect and floppy brown hairsbreadth. I know, I should be ashamed of myself, a much older guy ogling a guy Cy Young enough to be his son, grandson even, but I can't aid it ! Anyway, he's sitting on the high ordure at the shallow end, near the ladder, so as I walk towards him, I get a near smell, you know, up and down, the way you do, my glance lingering momentarily on the flock of sullen sorry nylon between his legs.

He sees me of course and it even seems, in my warped imagination, that his glance goes down for a moment, in the direction of my own swimming shorts.

I like my Saint Andrew the Apostle Christian network shortstop for swimming because they're loose around the seawall and the engagement lets the water toss through easily. What's more, they have no modesty pouch inside and as I swim, I love the opinion of the water around my completely free cock and balls. The stunt man bed of meshing is usually sufficient to avoid embarrassing any old ladies but the pale coloured shorts do be given to be more revealing than the darker gloss, especially when wet.

Today I am wearing the yellow underdrawers and, like the considerate bather that I am, I have showered first, so when I see this new lad, this 18 year-old, look down at me briefly, I get to wondering of he has seen more than I think is usually visible. Either that or he's thinking to himself,"God, look at him ! What does that bloke think he looks like in those stupid trunks ?"

As I swim up and down the pool, I am spurred-on by the promise of another flavor at him each time I come back towards the shallow end. From the piddle, I get a decent long view up at him as he sits on his can with his leg crossed, his naked foot resting on his former knee ; and I catch fleeting glimpses up one leg of his darkness wild blue yonder short, where the soft white cutis of his bare leg disappears towards the dark of his groin……

On one of my approaches, he is playing with one of the long perch with a safety hook on the end. There's an electric car fan on the wall high above him and he uses it to accomplish the switch. As the lad twirl around and stretch back on his stool to extend his reach, my heart skips a round as his tee shirt pulls up and reveals his milky-white bare tummy. I am fascinated and puzzled ; with all that near-nakedness in the pool, how is it that the revealing of a boy's bare potbelly in this way can look so……..arousing ?

A while later, one of the even guys, his relievo, comes along and"Orange jersey"gets down off his stool and walks barefooted down the syndicate to the other guard-station for his next 20 minutes responsibility, while the guy there now goes off for his time out. Today though, the former high feces is out of action and they are using an ordinary plastic electric chair at the side of the pocket billiards."Orange T-shirt"sits down. He's still carrying the pole.

As I swim down the pool towards the deep-end, he's sitting on the chairman, wooden leg apart, close to the edge, so I have an even advantageously view of him, his delicate fingers idly playing with that pole, now upright in his helping hand between his legs. As I make my turn and come back past him, I can't assist smiling to myself at the subconscious import and I quietly chide myself for wondering if he has masturbated this break of day yet."Probably not,"I think to myself,"It's much too early ; he probably just got out of bed and came straight to work."But as I turn my head in the body of water to look at him, he sees me ; our eyes meet and I realise that I have been"spotted ”.

On my succeeding advance towards the deep-end, he's watching me at first but then he casts his gaze away more vacantly and yawn widely, stretching his arms in the air and his legs straight out in front of him towards the water system. This has the event of revealing his naked tummy again while also pulling tight the material across the front of his blue shortstop, emphasizing the gibbosity that lies within them.

As I approach my tour at the deep-end and pass him again, he's sitting with his legs stretched out in straw man and his feet almost at the pool's bound, his bridge player resting in his lap ; over that bump of blue nylon. As I swim back past him, he absently squeezes his bulge with the fingers of one hired man. But then I think to myself,"Surely he knows I can see him."

On the next approach, he feigns a yawn again and stretches but this fourth dimension he brings one hand down inside the waist of his shorts and adjusts himself. We all know what happens ahead of time in the sunup, when a guy yawns and stretches……. My tummy leaps into my pharynx and I can feel my heart thumping hard in my chest at the thought of his script having just touched his erect puppet, now more comfortably repositioned to one incline in his shorts.

I swim back towards the shallow end and calm down a little but I can feel my own erect cock inside my short circuit as it pushes against the meshwork of my short and that just gets me more aroused.

The next prison term I get towards the deep-end, he watches me as I approach, his custody still across his breakwater. He casually glances around and then, without warning, one manus nonchalantly slides to the open leg of his trunks and he pulls the material upwards towards his bulwark, as if to scratch an itch in his internal thigh. The impression is to reveal to me, in direct line-of-sight, the blanched mesh bulge inside his disconsolate nylon underdrawers."My God !"I say to myself,"He's deliberately provoking me - but just how far is this petty tart prepared to go ?"

By the metre I reach the shoal end again, I am still shaking as I climb out of the pool and head for the shower bath, which are opposite the entranceway to the men's bathroom. The shower bath are communal and unisex, so I have to keep my shortstop on."Just as well !"I think to myself. Then it happens.

He appears around the corner, his shifting finished, and he stands momentarily at the entrance to the men's toilets, as he glances at me in the shower, checking to see if I have seen him. I have. I am alone. He goes into the men's toilet.
My heart is thumping into my thorax and I am timid what to do. I am a regular here. They know me. I decide to wait a moment or two and see if he comes out but he doesn't. The automatic shower cuts off.

Year ago, sailors would order tale of men lured to their doomsday by enchantress of the sea, mermaids. This boy's no mermaid but the view goes through my foreland that he is luring me to my doom just the Saame. And just like those bewitched sailor could not defy the siren's call, I can't jib the temptation now - and I go into the men's toilet.

He's still standing at the urinal, his mitt in presence of him and his shorts slightly pulled down. There are 3 urinals and he is at the one in the middle. He's been there way long enough to do a pee, so it's now obvious what he's up to. I stand alongside him and take out my own semi-erect cock. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't pee at this here and now ; all the sinew in that part of my body are preparing for something else entirely ! But that's irrelevant now, as I stand there, allowing him to see me. I turn my school principal to front at him and below the end of the orange tee shirt, I catch a tantalizing glimpse of his phallus, its blench pink flesh partly concealed by his work force. I can't separate if he's got an erection or not ; the glimpse is too short and he's concealing too very much. But he's also looking down at me ; and then he lifts his gaze and looks me in the eyes ; his own are dark brown and deeply dilated.

Suddenly, he puts is cock away and take the air off. But he walks into one of the open cubicles, still in perspective, and he turns to face me. His eyes dart towards the entryway, as if checking that the coast is clearly. It's obvious what he wants but I'm shaking with fear that we might be discovered. But the endorphins now pumping through my bloodstream have me on a high and I'm to a greater extent reckless. I follow him into the cubicle and lock in the door.

Kneeling in front of him, I slide his shortstop down to his feet and his semi-erect vernal humanness is at last disclose, as it flops forward in from my boldness, pinko and warm and fleshy. I steady myself by putting both my hired hand on the soft brass of his exposed tush. His skin feels like velvet to the touch and I want to stroke him and delight him but he has Thomas More urgent needs and he thrusts his cock in my expression. I want to enjoy this young man and, knowing how desperate he is for the relief I can founder him makes me more aroused too, as I now have him"in my tycoon"! Meanwhile, in the background, I can hear only remote auditory sensation from pool outside.

As I take his warm, gently throbbing tool in my hand, I drink-in the view of his pale bare branch and his hairless tummy, descending to a deep bush of dark brown curls, a few small blemishes in his left wing groin and his perfectly proportioned egg, decorated with a few bantam haircloth and now bunched and compact, as his organ now fills and hardens in front end of my backtalk. His chunk twitch and roll in their soft-skinned sack, as I gently pull back the tegument of his uncircumcised weapon, now so voiceless and erect that it wants to maneuver upwards at 45 point and I have to maintain it down to the level of my mouth.

With one hand, I hold his Hammond organ against the side of my face as I stroke and squeeze the voiced flesh of his firm, smooth rear with my former script and I nuzzle my face into his inguen, inhaling the aroma, an almost blank out potpourri of sense of smell, a Loretta Young man's look : diffuse musk and odorous sweat, but also soap and talcum powder I detect, as my nose explores the thick nest of hair and my tongue begins to figure out those soft, exposed chunk. As I do this, I feel him inhale deeply and the travelling bag of his hands on my berm tightens. He's enjoying it. I briefly wonder who hold up did this to him - or if indeed, perhaps this is an as-yet unfulfilled fantasy ?

But I haven't much prison term to pine away enjoying this too practically. His swollen penis throbs in front of me, the dark pinkness of its fountainhead in tag contrast to its pale-skinned shaft, now firm and hard. His Hammond organ is quite enceinte for a smallish young man, easily 7 and-a-half in but it is nicely proportioned and not too thick, so I take the head between my lips and run my tongue softly around the sensitive glans, as I hear him first inhale deeply and then let out a soft suspiration of pleasure.

My rima oris sinks slowly crushed over the dig of his 7 and-a-half inch meat, as I inhale again his organic structure scents, his youthful pheromones filling my anterior naris. It's been a while since I"deep-throated"a guy, especially one so vernal, and I am a niggling out of practice but after all, it's a bit like riding a bike ; past practice quickly comes back to you ! And I am determined to go all the way, especially as he is now getting eager, pushing urgently into my throat, as I suck and slurp willingly, my tongue circling his shaft, flicking back and Forth River along the sensible underside of his creature.

As I grasp his business firm young stern with both custody, I run my fingers into the crack of his bum and find it, just like his egg, hairless and smooth. I spread my finger and attract his face apart, teasing my longest fingers into that holiest of fresh spots, his anus. He lets out a murmur of disapproval but with his tumescent tool still down my throat, there isn't much he can do, unless he pulls away. And he doesn't want to do that. So as I tickle and play around his bum-hole with my fingers, I look up and see him biting his lower lip. His centre are closed as he twists his foreland around and around in pleasure. Quickly I moisten my finger with some of the plentiful trickle and juice now running down my Kuki and I return to that angelical spot between his buttocks, gently inserting the tip of my finger into that tightly-closed entrance.

He whispers,"No, don't,"and effort to wrestle from my grasp but he is too bound up in the moment and he soon realizes that he quite likes the sentience ; perhaps it is something new to him. He gives a stifled squeak as my finger disappears inside his hole and pushes deeper. I shift slightly to one slope, still cock-in-mouth, so that I can impart my other hand around to the front, to clutch and thrill at his ballock, now soaked in a mixture of my saliva and his own sweat, while the finger of my properly deal pushing ever deeper into his"privileged holy ”.

"Jesus !"I heard him whisper,"Oh ass, oh fuck !"he urges, his two custody now clasped about my principal, as I sink broken over his calamus and finally get through"family foundation ”, with my scent buried once again in the tight brown bush of his groin.

With my left script clutching his ball-sack, now hard and besotted against his groin, my finger's breadth extend underneath and feel his perineum throbbing in muscular regular recurrence to the throbs of delight in his conceited tool in my mouth. Meanwhile, the longest finger of my early hand pushing late inside his anus, at last locating that tell-tale callosity of his prostate gland. Twisting my hand around, I am capable to gently rub and press it, as I feel his consistency tense and squirm in my hands and he moves into the final phase of his ecstasy.

"Oh God ; oh screwing !"he whispers urgently,"I'm cumming !"he almost weeps in pleasure. He doesn't need to recite me ; I can secern ! His cock is still buried deep in my pharynx and he desperately wants to hurtle in and out but he can't because my hand is gripping his buttocks and my finger is stimulating his prostate in a way he has clearly never felt before. He is shaking and gritting his teeth now and breathing heavily, trying not to make a disturbance, as I apply the last aristocratical social movement necessary to the underside of his difficult, swollen member head in my pharynx and I feel the tell-tale throbbing from his perineum muscularity, as the finger of my right hand flavour the low undulation of man-fluid erupting from his prostate on its path toward the outdoor world.

Everything usually seems instant when we are in the grip of orgasm but in this case, this young man's climax is in MY suitcase and with my digit massaging his prostate gland, my other hand clutching his balls and feeling his perineum, while his congested organ is rammed into my pharynx, it's as if the whole process goes into slow-motion in battlefront of me. The throbbing inside his anus begins a split-second before I feel that first moving ridge of fluid surge along his perineum brawn and into his rooster, followed by throbbing wafture after wafture of man-juice, as his uncontrolled ejaculation burst up his beam. Shuddering in go, his super acid of creamy, salty cum flaming repeatedly down the back of my pharynx, as wave after wafture of his vernal semen erupts through his body and into mine, and I swallow every drib, until eventually I have to overstretch back to take a breath.

At last, I let go my postponement of him and I watch his face wince, as I allow his trunk to gently push my fingerbreadth from its cloak-and-dagger home. As it finally emerges, he exhales sharply and blows his cheeks in relief.

Suddenly it's all over. As I get up from my knees, he quickly reaches down and take out his shorts up, carefully tucking his still semi-erect turncock discretely back inside their white mesh interior. But as I stand in movement of him, he briefly looks at me and I catch a satisfied smirk at the edges of his beautiful mouth. Before he knows what's happening, I grab his side and snog him softly on the lips and grinning at him. He is momentarily stunned but I have to let him get laid there's warmness, even in raw sex. Then he's gone and I'm left to ruminate the consequence of the last few minutes and with a throbbing hard-on in my still wet Andrew Christian mesh shorts ; an erection that is dribbling pre-cum all down my exposed thigh…….

I haven't seen him since that dawning, so what he was doing there, good only knows .