It’s 1969 in America and Ray is confused about sex in general and his sexuality in particular. Being rescued from nearly drowning by a male lifeguard left the teenager more confused. Did he fall in love with Tony, the lifeguard, or was it forbidden lust for the handsome Latino college student summering as a lifeguard at the pool?
Hormonal changes further complicate Ray’s exploration of sexual attraction as he navigates becoming a high school track star and earns an athletic scholarship to college, coincidentally the school from which Tony graduated and where he’s an assistant soccer coach. Ray’s continued fixation on Tony is invigorated by the former lifeguard’s willingness to mentor the track star. Yet, Tony gives no indication he shares Ray’s sexual inclinations, further frustrating the young college student.
After a series of separations due to graduate school and career advancement, 1985 finds them both living in Washington, D. C. They revive their friendship and Ray wonders if he can finally resolve his teenaged dilemma. Was it love at first sight on the pool deck after Tony gave him the breath of life, or was it merely hormone driven lust; if it was love, it’s been unrequited, can that change?
In the Spring our team won a county-wide meet. The celebrations in the locker room extended to the showers where there was lots of ass slapping and mock feints at ball tugging. Before long, most of the usually limp dicks flopped less and were noticeably longer and fatter than when the athletes hung up their towels. Mine was getting out of control so I grabbed my towel and headed for the bathroom. In my haste to get inside a stall, I didn’t notice Jared standing at a urinal with his towel slung over a shoulder. Sitting on the toilet, I looked through the crack between the door and its support and saw him, legs spread and his dark, beefy buns facing me as he pissed. My dick rose the last two inches needed for full erection as I gripped it and, keeping my eyes on Jared’s ass, I violently jerked off. I must have moaned too loud because the Hungarian turned around and looked in my direction. Fuck! He’s got a hard-on and was taking care of business. He must not have heard me come in. What the fuck, he’s walking over to check out the stall. Frozen in place, I watched as Jared still holding his hard shaft, walked to my stall and placed his face at the crack.
“Yes, Ray, make it shoot. See if we can shoot together.” His grunts as he worked his meat motivated me to resume stroking mine. It became a contest to see who would blow first. I won by a split second. Two quick blasts from my cock heralded his orgasm. Fuck if some of his cum didn’t fly through the crack and land on my feet. “We should do this again sometime,” Jared said once his ability to speak rationally returned.
“Yes, but not in the bathroom.” We both laughed at the situation while cleaning up before returning to the showers. We got together twice for mutual hand jobs in the rest of the school year, both times in the basement family room of his home on the rare nights his folks were gone for a few hours. Jared became agitated on a third occasion when I suggested more intimate activities such as sucking each other’s dick, claiming that was “too queer” for him. I left his house frustrated until my right hand got me off in bed.
At the end of my third year, just as I turned eighteen, I won the state championship in two sprints. Suddenly I became a school hero and found myself the center of attention in the boisterous locker room after the competition. Several hands moved over my naked body as my team members ritually soaped me up in the shower area. I was startled when the soccer players, their game finished, joined in the frolic. “Look, the skinny Anglo has a big sausage,” the soccer team captain observed as his soapy hand groped my crotch.
“Si, it’s getting bigger too. Maybe the big-shot champion will put on a show for us?” Another soccer player suggested.
Much as I wanted to, I pushed the captain’s hand away and moved to a free showerhead rinse off all the soap. “Sorry to deprive you guys of a show, but…” Everyone laughed, mostly I thought because they were relieved the sexual tension had dissipated.
I was amused spotting Jared, clutching a towel to his crotch, as he hurried to the bathroom and debated following him to see if maybe he’d changed his mind about ramping up the sex we’d enjoyed. Before I could, however, Roberto, the soccer captain, and Jorge, the second soccer player who’d commented on my prick, came over and spoke quietly to me. “Ray, you’re a nice looking guy. We have a club I think you’d be interested in,” Roberto whispered. “It meets in my garage where I’m supposedly fixing up an old car. You and your big dick would really enjoy joining us. How about us getting together in three hours? Francisco and Raul are also members of the club and will be there too.”
“I bet Francisco would love to suck on your tasty Anglo dick, he sure likes my spicy chorizo,” Jorge added grabbing his crotch for emphasis.
The opportunity of sex with four Latinos was impossible to pass up so of course I agreed. Roberto gave me the address and instructions to approach from an alleyway and use the back door into the garage. My parents accepted my pretense about meeting a couple of the guys for a small celebration with pizza and sodas, so I was off at eight o’clock.
Second thoughts about the matter caused me to be the last to arrive at the garage. When I entered it was clear everyone awaited my arrival. The four Latinos, fully clothed, were seated on a large sofa and two upholstered arm chairs. Roberto stood to greet me and directed me to sit between him and Jorge on the sofa. “Hellos” and “Holas” were exchanged along with handshakes as I moved to take my seat.
“Francisco and Raul will start the show,” Roberto announced. Not knowing the names of all the soccer players I hadn’t placed names with nude bodies earlier when Roberto told me who else was a member of the club. With their introduction I realized they were two of the Mexicans I most admired for their toned and hairy physiques as well as their noticeably large endowments even when soft. When the pair performed a sensual striptease I was all eyes and hard dick. Roberto and Jorge, having witnessed the others perform before, moved closer to me on the couch and let their hands roam over my chest and groin.
“Nice and firm,” Jorge observed. Since one of his hands was on my torso and the other in my lap, I wasn’t exactly sure if he was complimenting my abs or my cock−maybe both? By the time the striptease was complete, my shirt was unbuttoned and the fly of my jeans unfastened. Jorge’s wandering fingers were wrapped around my shaft, still in my underwear. Roberto’s fingers were tweaking my nipples, sending shock waves from my tits to my balls.